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You guys.
Seriously.
Seriously, you guys.
I am so excited. Next week, I get to go to my first book expo.
“What’s a book expo?” you ask? (If you didn’t ask, you should, because that would make a delightful segue into the answer I’ve already prepared.)
Great question! And I’m not exactly sure of the answer!
But here’s what I know. Book Expo America is an annual event where tens of thousands of authors, publishers, bloggers, booksellers, librarians, agents, and other people who care about books all gather to discuss what’s hot and what’s coming next. Apparently it’s a pretty big deal.
If you follow my blog, you know that my first book, Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate, is out later this year, and my publisher, Jericho Books, is flying me to New York City (read “New York City!” like in those old Pace commercials) to spend a day attending the expo and signing copies of my book!
Wait… I’m signing copies? But it’s not out until November!
Ah, but here’s what I’ve learned, young Jedi. You know how, the first day a book comes out, there are already reviews of it online and in the paper, and quotes on the jacket from authors and other famous people saying how great it is? That’s because publishers put out ARCs, which, according to the interwebs, stands for Advance Reading Copy or Advance Reader Copy or Advance Review Copy or Advance RwhatheheckdoestheRstandfor Copy or something like that. Anyway, these ARCs are pre-release copies of the book, often what are called “bound galleys,” which haven’t been through the final proofreading stage yet. They may still have some typos and the text may differ slightly from the final book, but they’re close enough to finalized for reviewers, and they’re typically given away, not to be resold.
And that, dear friends, is what I will be signing.
On Wednesday, June 6, at 2:00, to be precise.
Also, did I mention there will be cupcakes and beer?
Yes. Cupcakes. And beer. That classic American combination of foods that no one has ever combined before to my knowledge.
The great irony is that I don’t drink beer (though there is a cool illustration about beer in the book). I do, however, eat cupcakes, so my apologies if there are none because I’VE EATEN THEM ALL.
So the plan, at least, is that tons and tons of people will come to the Jericho Books table to see me sign books with other cool authors, consume cupcakes and beer, and find out about this awesome new book about how we can end this “Gays vs. Christians” mindset and realistically get to a cease-fire in the culture war. Because let’s face it, we’re all sick of the fighting, but the folks on each side don’t quite know how to dialogue with the other side. And this is the work I’ve been doing for the last ten years, with a lot of success, actually.
So as you can see, I’m super excited about this book, and about this book expo. This will be the first time I’ve ever seen a bound copy of a book that I wrote, and it’s a book that I really believe could change a ton of hearts and minds.
Also, cupcakes, you guys! Cupcakes!
It’s no secret that the media thrives on controversy. When someone says something outrageous, it gets a lot of attention. When someone says something thoughtful and reasonable, we tend to gloss over it.
So when polarizing debates happen in our culture, it’s often the guys with the megaphones who get all the press. We let them define the debate, and then the rest of us find ourselves quietly saying, “But they don’t speak for me.”
I am a Christian. I’m an evangelical. I grew up Southern Baptist, and I am a lifelong North Carolinian.
But when two different North Carolina pastors made headlines this month for saying horrible things about gay people (one of them suggesting physically abusing effeminate boys and one of them suggesting putting gay people in camps with electrified fences), I find myself wanting to scream, “They don’t speak for me!”
They don’t speak for all Christians. Or all evangelicals. Or all Baptists. Or all North Carolinians.
And while I’m not Side B (the term for people who oppose same-sex marriage), I know that they don’t speak for all Side B people either. I have plenty of Side B friends who were horrified at those words.
Also, I’m gay. And guess what? Those gay folks who go on TV or the internet to use these videos as excuses to bash Christianity and make all Christians sound like bigots? They don’t speak for me either.
I’m gay, but I don’t agree with or approve of everything that every other gay person says or does.
I’m a Christian, but I don’t agree with or approve of everything that every other Christian says or does. (Frankly, I’m not convinced that some of them understand what it means to be a Christian at all, though that’s not for me to judge.)
And if you agree with me, and these people don’t speak for you, then join me in speaking up. Write blog posts. Post on Facebook. Talk about this with your family. Call your local media.
Not only that, but donate to the organizations who are speaking up for you. If you don’t know of any, find them. Or create them. If we don’t put our money, our actions, and our words behind what we believe, then we have no right to complain when the extremists claim to speak for us.
Here’s what I believe.
I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. I believe he died for our sins. And I believe he showed grace and love like none we’ve ever experienced.
I believe that he loved every person he encountered in his life, including—maybe most especially—the outcasts and the sinners. I believe he opposed violence and prejudice, that he spent time with the people that “people like him” weren’t supposed to spend time with, and that he returned people’s insults and hatred with love and compassion.
I also believe he changed the world.
And I want to follow in his footsteps.
You don’t sound like a bigot to me! That’s a perfectly reasonable question, and it sounds to me like you’re approaching it in a perfectly reasonable manner. Thanks for asking!
In Mark 10, the Pharisees try to trap Jesus by asking him about a controversial topic of their day: divorce. They’re hoping to get him mired in a debate that will turn at least some of the crowd against him, no matter which way he answers. As on other occasions (such as when they ask him about paying taxes), Jesus skilfully sidesteps their trap without sidestepping the question itself.
Jesus agrees with them that Moses permitted divorce, but then he points out that divorce was never God’s design for marriage. He quotes from Genesis, which says that “the two will become one flesh,” adding that if God has joined two to become one, then no person should separate that bond.
Seems pretty straightforward. But this passage has proved challenging for modern Christians when addressing both divorce and same-sex couples.
Let’s look at divorce first. What Jesus says about divorce here seems to be very clear: Not only does he say that it’s not God’s design, but later, he tells the disciples that if a man divorces his wife to marry another woman, he’s committing adultery, and likewise if she divorces him. That’s a strong statement!
But wait… should there be exceptions? Was Jesus intending only to address the practice of divorcing someone because you got tired of them, or did he mean his words to apply to every situation without exception?
Well, the Bible itself gives us some exceptions. In the parallel passage in Matthew 19, Jesus adds sexual unfaithfulness as an exception, and some interpret Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 7 as granting an exception when a non-Christian spouse wants a divorce.
But what about a situation like physical or emotional abuse? Should a battered wife be required to stay married to the husband who abuses her? The Bible doesn’t mention this, but many Christians would grant an exception in cases like this. Not all would, however; some would argue that while she has no obligation to remain with him and be beaten, it would be wrong for her to divorce him and remarry. They base that interpretation on this passage, but is that what Jesus intended? Christians have differing opinions.
Others have differed on what Jesus meant about adultery. He said that someone who divorces and remarries is committing adultery, which would seem to suggest that if you got a divorce many years ago and have long since remarried, your current marriage is only an adulterous relationship and you are still (in God’s eyes) married to your former spouse! In the past, some churches, based on that belief, required people to reunite with their former spouse in order to be accepted as members of the church. Today, most churches would argue that that’s an inappropriately legalistic approach to Jesus’ words, and that Jesus’ point was that marriage was meant to last, and that you shouldn’t toss one spouse aside in favor of someone else just because you “fell out of love” with them or found someone hotter.
In many ways, the disagreements on same-sex couples mirror the ones we see about divorce. Those on Side B (opposing same-sex sexual behavior) sometimes point out that in the passage, Jesus appeals to the order of creation with God creating “male and female,” and quotes the Genesis passage about a man leaving his parents to unite with his wife. From a Side B perspective, that strongly suggests that Jesus, too, believed that marriage should be between a man and a woman.
Side A Christians argue that that’s an overly legalistic interpretation of Jesus’ words. Jesus wasn’t responding to a question about gay marriage or homosexuality at all, they point out; he was talking about divorce. And yes, because the vast majority of men are attracted to women (and vice versa), it is true that men and women usually unite in this way. But, Side A proponents say, just as with divorce, there are exceptions to the rule that must be considered. Some people are only attracted to the same sex, and for them to marry a member of the opposite sex would only result in deep unhappiness for both partners. Surely Jesus’ point about the permanence of marriage could apply to them too, even if the person they fall in love with is of the same sex?
As further evidence for their point, some Side A Christians point to what Jesus says in Matthew 19 after explaining his views on marriage:
Not everyone can accept this word, but only those to whom it has been given. For there are eunuchs who were born that way, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others—and there are those who choose to live like eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. The one who can accept this should accept it.
“Not everyone can accept this word” certainly seems like Jesus was acknowledging exceptions. But what sort of exceptions? Some scholars have argued that the word “eunuch” in Jesus’ day actually referred to any male who wasn’t attracted to women, not only those who had been castrated. Is it possible Jesus was referring to gay people? Many scholars are skeptical, and personally, I’m not convinced.
Regardless, what sort of exception was Jesus offering? Side B Christians may point out that eunuchs typically were unmarried—so perhaps Jesus was suggesting that gay people should remain celibate. Or perhaps he wasn’t talking about gay people at all; he was just pointing out that not everyone is called to marriage.
So as with divorce, this passage has been argued about by different groups and understood in different ways. My personal view is that we have to stretch a bit to make this passage say much (pro or con) about same-sex couples; it wasn’t Jesus’ point, and if we still have questions about the main issue he was addressing (divorce), we’re in danger of misinterpreting him if we try to stretch the passage to cover an issue he wasn’t addressing. But I understand and respect my Christian friends on both sides who disagree with me, and I hope we will continue to seek God’s will on passages like this together, through prayer, community, and trusting the Holy Spirit for guidance.
Some quotes from me and others in this, part of a series from a conservative Christian publication. Lots of food for thought!
Thanks for the question!
First, I should point out that the organization I run (The Gay Christian Network) is an organization of Christians on both sides of the issue. Some (“Side A”) believe God blesses monogamous same-sex relationships, and others (“Side B”) believes the Bible strongly condemns such relationships. What both sides agree on is that gay people don’t choose their attractions, and that the church needs to do a better job of being loving to LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender) people.
My organization works with people on both sides of the issue. But if you’re interested in my personal views, here’s a blog post I wrote a month ago about how I understand the Bible on this issue. Warning: there’s a lot there to digest!
I’d add one more thing in answer to your question, though. Most Christians already have pretty strong feelings about this subject, and in my experience, Bible arguments (whether they’re great arguments or terrible ones, and I’ve heard both) don’t usually change people’s minds on this subject. As a Christian, I believe my view should come from Scripture, but I also know that Bible debates aren’t likely to change other people’s minds. So I encourage you to work within your church to build relationships with those who disagree with you, and at the appropriate time, share your story about your friend and why this matters to you. Even from a Side B perspective, there are a lot of things your church members could do to show the love of Christ, and they may not have thought of many of them yet!
Two days ago, I posted a little piece on Amendment One, the North Carolina amendment reinforcing the existing ban on same-sex marriage. It was a little something I posted mostly to encourage my gay and gay-supportive friends to try to understand those who don’t agree with them, instead of just labeling them all “bigots” and moving on.
Then that post went viral, and I got more comments than all the other posts on this blog put together. Wow!
Yesterday, I decided to change the subject with a more lighthearted post about being vulnerable. That had some fun comments, but it’s the gay marriage post people are still flocking to in droves.
So today, I’d like to revisit the gay marriage question from a different perspective.
Last time, I encouraged my friends in favor of gay marriage to try to understand those who disagree with them. I’m going to revisit that topic in more depth in a future post. Today, I’d like to encourage my friends opposed to gay marriage to try to understand the other side as well.
The following video has been making its way around the internet in recent days, and for good reason. It’s incredibly powerful. If you support gay marriage, I’m sure you’ll agree with the video’s message, but this post isn’t really for you. It’s for my readers who oppose gay marriage.
I know that many of my readers are wonderful Christian folks who have a moral opposition to same-sex marriage. You believe that the Bible is clear on the subject, and as Christians, you want to treat gay people with love but not condone or encourage their sin. I completely understand, and I’m not asking you to change your mind on that.
As Christians, though, I believe that when we want to show love to others, it’s important for us to try to understand the people we want to show love to. If your view on this is different from mine, then it helps me to treat you with love if I can understand why you believe what you do and why it’s important to you. It doesn’t mean I’ll change my mind; it just means that I can put myself in your shoes and use that information to help me treat you with respect.
So if you oppose civil marriage for same-sex couples but genuinely want to understand the perspective of a gay person who supports it, I invite you to take ten minutes out of your day to listen to a young man named Shane Bitney Crone explain why this is so important to him. (Seriously, it’s ten minutes; I would hope that all of us as Christians could take ten minutes out of our days to understand our fellow human beings.)
Some who haven’t gotten to know me or haven’t carefully read what I’m saying here will misunderstand, thinking that I posted this to try to change people’s minds on gay marriage. That’s not it at all. Others will be angry with me because they think I should be taking this opportunity to argue for same-sex marriage. But I’m hoping that the majority of you will understand my real point—this is the most divisive social issue of our time, and if we as Christians are going to live out Christ’s love for those on both sides of the issue, it’s vital that we take the time to get to know them and see where they’re coming from.
Shane’s video doesn’t change anything about what the Bible says or how you interpret it; it doesn’t answer any theological or moral questions about gay sex. What it does do is help us understand where someone like him is coming from, and what’s important to him. And that is something that all of us, on both sides, should do more often for one another. It’s about toning down the rhetoric, which as Rachel Held Evans beautifully pointed out this week, is probably the single most important thing the church must do to avoid losing an entire generation.
Wow, you guys. Yesterday’s post about Amendment One really struck a chord with some of you and a nerve with others; I’m completely overwhelmed by how many of you have been sharing it on Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr. (Probably other social networks I don’t even know about, too!)
So since a lot of new folks just started reading the blog yesterday, I thought it might be time to write something a bit more personal. Vulnerability is good for the soul, I think, and in a highly charged political climate like this one, sometimes it’s a good idea to just drop our defenses and be totally honest.
First, if you haven’t already done so, check out this interview with me on Rachel Held Evans’ blog. It will give you the important background you need to know about me and the purpose of my blog, and it will answer all those burning questions you have.
Seriously, it will.
I mean it. Go read it, then come back. You’ll be glad you did.
I’ll wait.
Okay, all on the same page now? Good.
So today, in the name of vulnerability, I’ve decided to just open up to the world about things I often think about but don’t normally talk about. So without further ado, here are 30 honest confessions.
1. I don’t really know how to be a blogger. I’m afraid of running out of things to say. I look up to the prolific bloggers out there and wonder how they do it.
2. Because I deal with controversial issues, I frequently get heavy criticism from people on both sides. I tell everyone that I’m used to it and that I don’t let it get to me. That’s a lie. The truth is, I take every criticism to heart, and I don’t know how not to.
3. I want everyone to like me. When I find out that someone is unhappy with me or a decision I’ve made, I want to do everything in my power to hear them out and work it out. If they won’t talk about it, it literally keeps me up at night.
4. I tell the same jokes and stories a lot. I can get away with it because I travel a lot.
5. When driving, I secretly chide people for speeding. Then when I see a police car, I check my speed and slow down. I’m a hypocrite.
6. I often skip breakfast.
7. I hate being the “gay Christian” guy. It’s exhausting. I’d rather just be known for my faith and the things that make me unique as a person.
8. I have no hair due to a genetic auto-immune disorder called alopecia areata. I say I’m not self-conscious about it at all, and that’s true, but I miss having eyebrows.
9. My real signature doesn’t look like my name at all. I’ve spent actual time (a lot of actual time) wondering whether I should sign with my real signature or a more legible version when I start signing copies of my book.
10. Speaking of which, I’ve written my first book, and I’m embarrassed by how exciting that is for me. I try not to bring it up in conversation too much, because I think people will think I’m self-absorbed if I do. But to me, it’s the coolest thing I’ve ever done and I think about it alllll the time. Seriously. If you talk to me anytime between now and November, I’m probably thinking about this book. I feel kind of pathetic for that, but I can’t help it.
11. I talk too much.
12. One of my favorite Christian bands, Sixpence None the Richer, once had a song with the line, “By the way, when I kneel to pray, it never seems You’re there. And I’ll admit that I do not try, when it’s easier to sit down and cry. I’m so full of doubt; wanna let it out, let it out over You.” I totally get that.
13. I don’t like conflict. When people start fighting online, it upsets me a great deal.
14. I really, really enjoy hearing and discussing points of view that are different from mine. If someone disagrees with me and is willing to have a thoughtful, gracious discussion about our differences, I’m on cloud nine. If they’re unkind, though, I find it stressful, and it bothers me more than it should when people can’t tell the difference between the two.
15. I can’t cook. In my apartment, a home-cooked meal comes out of the microwave.
16. I want to be a good role model, but I don’t want to represent all gay Christians, or all gay people, or all Christians. I think about all my flaws, and I’m always afraid that people will see those flaws and use them to discount entire groups of people because of my own personal sinfulness.
17. I get really embarrassed when white Americans try to talk about race and get all awkward because they are too afraid of saying the wrong thing.
18. I feel awkward sometimes when I talk about race. I try really hard not to let it show, because I don’t want to be one of those people.
19. Back in the 90s, when N*Sync was popular, my younger sister listened to them, and I looked down my nose at them. This week, I downloaded one of their old songs on iTunes and listened to it repeatedly. I’m too embarrassed to tell you which song it was.
20. I’m terrible at returning email. I put it off until it gets buried, and then feel awful about it.
21. I’m really insecure. I work very hard not to let it show.
22. I’ve never actually seen Titanic all the way through.
23. As a kid, I was so determined to preach against homosexuality that I said a lot of things without realizing how hurtful they must have been to any gay people who heard me. Now, when people say hurtful things like that to me, I secretly feel like I deserve it.
24. I’m a perfectionist. I think I drive my coworkers crazy.
25. I’m paranoid about running red lights, so sometimes I stop too early on a yellow and then feel bad for the person behind me.
26. As a Christian, I believe that my sins are 100% paid for by Jesus and that once I ask forgiveness for them, I don’t need to wallow in guilt anymore. Somehow, that doesn’t stop a few particularly bad mistakes I’ve made from popping back into my head over and over again, making me feel guilty each time.
27. I don’t like that I sometimes lose my temper.
28. I am really, really interested in people, but I meet so many of them in my line of work that I sometimes forget whether I’ve met someone or not. I live in fear of not remembering people.
29. Sometimes I get tired of being around Christians, even though I am a Christian and my faith is the most important thing in my life.
30. I sing in the car, and pretend not to be embarrassed when someone I know sees me doing it.
And just for good measure…
31. I just read back over this list and can’t decide if it makes me sound neurotic or not. I hope not. I really don’t want people to think I’m neurotic. Please don’t think I’m neurotic. Oh no, this isn’t helping. I should shut up now. Okay, shutting up. (Not neurotic!)
Those are a few of my confessions. What are yours?
This is probably the most political thing I will ever post on this blog, but in spite of the fact that it was inspired by a recent political debate, this isn’t actually a political post. It’s actually about people, and how we respond to these sorts of polarizing political debates.
As you may know, I live in North Carolina, which until last night was the only state in this region of the country not to have adopted a constitutional amendment permanently banning same-sex marriage. North Carolina law already states that “marriage” in the eyes of our state is only between a man and a woman, so the general sentiment seemed to be that there was no need to go further and amend our state constitution on this polarizing issue.
But times change, and after the election two years ago brought about a change in which party had local power, an amendment was put on the North Carolina ballot to permanently enshrine the state’s opposition to same-sex marriage in the constitution. The proposed amendment was known as Amendment One, and if you’ve been watching the news, you already know that it passed last night.
There’s been a ton of moral outrage about this on all sides, much of it from outside of the state. This latest political fight came to symbolize so much about the culture war for folks on both sides, that it almost seemed irrelevant that this was about North Carolina.
So as a lifelong North Carolinian who is also one of the most outspoken gay Christians on the internet, I have something to say about this.
First of all, it shouldn’t be any surprise that I opposed the amendment. I think same-sex couples should have the same legal rights as other couples, and even if I didn’t, many experts have argued that the wording of this amendment is dangerously vague, not only banning same-sex marriage and civil unions, but also affecting heterosexual couples, children’s health insurance, domestic violence victims, and other important issues—all to ban something that was already banned to begin with.
Maybe you agree with me; maybe you disagree. But that’s not the point I want to make.
After last night’s vote, I heard a disturbingly large number of my friends, national commentators, and others suggesting that this vote just proves that North Carolinians (or at least a giant percentage of us) are bigoted, homophobic, backwards people who are so filled with hate that we oppose equality for certain groups just because we can.
And see, that’s just not the case. Yes, I voted against the amendment, as did many of my friends and hundreds of thousands of other NC residents. But I also know people who voted for it, and I know that they are not simply bigoted, homophobic, backwards people. It’s way more complicated than that.
Is there a lot of prejudice in North Carolina against LGBT people? Absolutely there is. But it’s not, as some have imagined, just a matter of “bigoted homophobes.” By and large, the prejudice that exists is a matter of a lack of understanding. Many of the folks I’ve talked to honestly believe that people choose to be gay and could choose not to be. They think that giving legal recognition to same-sex partnerships would increase the number of people choosing to be gay, and would therefore encourage more people to turn away from God’s plan for their lives. When they talk about homosexuality as a “perversion,” they’re not trying to be bigoted or mean; they’re being quite literal about it.
Those folks aren’t the only ones who supported the amendment, but in my experience, they make up the lion’s share of those who were most vocally in support. My Christian friends who understand what my life has been like as a gay Christian may not support same-sex marriage, but they tend to be way more thoughtful and careful about these questions, and they are the ones who felt most torn about this amendment and all the legal and moral issues it raised.
That’s why I posted to Facebook: “Yes, my state’s vote tonight saddens me. But it is not, as some have imagined, about intentional bigotry. It is about a lack of understanding, pure and simple—of who we are, what we want, and why it matters. Education is needed, and that is what I will keep dedicating myself to, every single day of my life.”
Some of my friends pushed back on this, saying that it is about bigotry and that I shouldn’t be so quick to give people excuses. I understand where they’re coming from, but I think we have to be very careful before we write people off as bigoted caricatures of themselves.
As I’ve said before on this blog, everyone is the protagonist of their own story. Almost always, we do the things we do because we think they’re going to bring about something good. The people on both sides who voted on this amendment honestly believed they were doing the right thing. Whichever side you’re on, if you caricature those who disagree with you as merely bigoted, stupid, homophobic, sinful, or evil, you’ve greatly underestimated them as people.
Okay, so maybe you’re angry and/or hurt about the vote (or some other related issue). I am too. Maybe you’re thinking, “Look, why should I care what they’re thinking? Bigotry is bigotry. I don’t have to understand them; I just have to oppose them.”
I get it. When you’re angry, it’s virtually impossible to try to see things from the other person’s perspective. It’s way, way easier to just see them as the villains. (And of course, they see you the same way.) But if you genuinely care about changing things, that’s the most dangerous thing you can do.
Here’s the thing: People are fallible, and people are sinful, but most of us aren’t just purely evil. The people who oppose you on this or any issue are complex people who, in most cases, just haven’t fully understood where you’re coming from or why it’s important. If you dismiss them as evil/bigoted/homophobic/stupid/whatever, what you’ve just done is to destroy your own ability to change their minds. The only effective way to change people’s minds is to first do the work to understand where they’re coming from and then work to educate them about the things they don’t yet understand.
“Yes,” you may be saying, “but they have to be willing to change. They have to have open minds in the first place. And these folks clearly don’t.”
And see, that’s where you’re right—and where you’re wrong.
Yes, people have to have open minds… sort of. It’s true that if someone refuses to be educated about an issue, then there’s nothing you can do. Remember the parable of the sower, throwing seed on different kinds of ground? There’s no way he can sow the seed to force the bad soil to accept it, and there’s no way you can argue well enough to convince every person to change their mind on the issues you care most about.
However.
Most of us don’t begin with open minds on issues we think we already understand. Most of the time, our minds have to be opened by circumstances, experiences, stories, and people who are patient with us. And if you honestly believe that over half of North Carolinians are so prejudiced that they would refuse to open their minds to patient people who take the time to understand them and then lovingly educate them about the lives of LGBT people, well then I’m afraid you may be the prejudiced one.
Taking the time to see things from the other side’s perspective is important because it’s the way of Jesus. But it’s also important for the very practical reason that it’s the only real way to change minds. You can’t change people’s minds—or their voting habits, or the way they treat people—if you don’t have any clue why they disagree with you to begin with, or if you think that it’s just because they’re inherently bigoted/hateful/wicked people.
So yes, it feels gratifying to look at the people on the other side and dismiss them as stupid, hateful bigots. It makes you feel better about yourself, and it gives you an outlet for your anger. (And likewise to those who look at LGBT and LGBT-supportive folks as godless, hedonistic lovers of sin.) But as soon as you let that attitude settle in, you’ve lost your chance to make a difference. You’ve guaranteed your own inability to make change. It’s the equivalent of the high school student who gets frustrated, shouts, “I hate this stupid homework! It’s impossible!” and flops down on his bed.
Gratifying, yes. But you’re not going to make any progress that way.
My challenge to you, however you felt about this amendment and however you feel about LGBT/Christian issues in general, is to force yourself to see your opponents as human beings who honestly believe they’re doing the right thing. Figure out what it is that’s really motivating them, and if the answer you come up with is simply “bigotry” or “love of the flesh” or “stupidity” or “rebellion against God,” keep digging, because you haven’t gone deep enough yet. Then once you really understand them—really, really understand them—find the ways you can reach out and begin to educate them, patiently and lovingly. That is how you make change in people’s lives.
Calling them names and dismissing them is way easier, of course. But since when has the work of Christ ever been easy?
[Special Note: This post has been getting a lot of attention around the internet. If this is your first time reading my blog, I strongly recommend reading this interview I did on Rachel Held Evans’ blog to learn more about why I believe what I do, and checking out my book and the other posts on my first-time visitors’ page. That will answer a lot of your questions! Also, don’t forget to subscribe at the top of the page to see what comes next! Thanks! —Justin]
Speaking to Christian groups is one of my favorite things in the world. It’s so much fun!
I just posted three different videos of presentations I gave in the last few weeks at Christian colleges, so for those of you who might be thinking about having a speaker at your school/church/group, this is what you can expect. :)
I posted a description on each one, but for those of you who don’t like to scroll, here’s the quick explanation and index:
My friend Ron and I are Christians who disagree with each other about how the church should approach the question of homosexuality, but we respect each other’s faith and have been friends for years. We recently spoke together at Pepperdine for two nights. Afterwards, I spoke alone in Abilene, home of several Christian colleges.
Feel free to watch and share!
In my last post, I posted a video of Ron and me speaking about the ways we agree. On our second night of presentations at Pepperdine, we talked about how we disagree on the Bible’s view of sexuality. But instead of arguing for our own positions, we decided to try a twist: Ron argued for my position and I argued for his.
(Night 2 of the two nights of presentations at Pepperdine.)
My friend Ron and I are two Christians with different views about what the church’s approach to homosexuality should be. Here’s a fun presentation we gave a few weeks ago at Pepperdine University (a school affiliated with the Church of Christ) about the ways we agree.
(This was night 1 of two nights of presentations by Ron and me.)
Ever wonder how James Patterson comes up with the catchy titles for his novels?
Well, guess what! …I have no idea. I’ve never met the guy. (Actually, considering how all of his books these days seem to be written with co-authors, I’m not even sure he’s a real person.)
But if you want to know where the title of my book came from, I’m happy to tell you. So sit back while I weave you a tale of intrigue and suspense. (One that doesn’t have James Patterson’s name on it.)
I do a lot of public speaking, and I like giving my talks titles that are funny, silly, provocative, or otherwise entertaining. Among the talks I’ve given are “From Mrs. Fletcher to Chumbawamba: A History of Fallenness,” “GLBT Christian Ministry: The Next Generation,” “The Alien Ambassador,” “The Real Reason You’re Single,” “Battle for the Neighborhood: Mr. Rogers vs. Chuck Norris,” “Leggo My Ego,” and “Does Talking to the Church Feel Like Banging Your Head Against a Wall?”
I usually get pretty good attendance at my talks.
Months before I began writing the book, I gave a talk at a local college called “Gays vs. Christians: Is there room for dialogue?” It was about how everyone loses if we buy into the false notion that gays and Christians are at war with one another. The talk went over well, and when I began to outline a book around this theme, the title Gays vs. Christians (with a different subtitle) made sense.
For me, Gays vs. Christians captured the frustrating polarization I see in society all the time. It’s hard to find your place in the world as a gay Christian (or a Christian with gay friends, or a gay person with a Christian family, etc.) if the world keeps pushing this “Gays vs. Christians” worldview. So when I finished the first draft, I submitted it to an agent (now my agent) with the terrible, awkward title Gays vs. Christians: Surviving the Battle That Is Ripping Apart Our Churches, Our Families, and Ourselves.
I know, I know. Even then, I knew that it needed a better subtitle, but titling books is a lot harder than it looks!
My agent said (and I’m paraphrasing here): “Love the book. Hate the title.”
Okay, he was a little more tactful than that, but he and several close friends all made exactly the same point: Anyone who knows me would instantly know that I meant the title Gays vs. Christians to be ironic, an example of how our culture gets the issue all wrong—but someone who doesn’t know me wouldn’t know that, and they might easily think that I actually believe in a “Gays vs. Christians” war.
Of course my agent and friends were absolutely right. We needed a better title: something simple, catchy, and clear. And we needed it before we started pitching the book to publishers.
I went back to the drawing board and started brainstorming titles. I brainstormed constantly, dreaming up titles in the shower, at work, in the car, and while watching TV. I walked around bookstores and looked at other books’ titles to spark inspiration. I asked my friends to help me brainstorm, and we bounced mostly terrible ideas back and forth, writing them all down no matter how bad they were. Together, we came up with a long list of title ideas (well over 250 by the end of this process). Some of them were good, and some were, um, less good, but nothing quite felt right:
A Church Divided Against Itself
The Gays vs. Christians Myth
Love Without Mercy
Conflicted Christians
Among the cheesier titles I came up with was Saving Grace: Rescuing the Gospel from a Gays vs. Christians Mindset. See, “Saving Grace” is a play on words, because we’re trying to save (rescue) grace in the church, right? Eh? Eh? Yeah, no one else thought it was clever either, and it’s been done a bunch of times before. But I sent the results of our brainstorming to my agent, and while none of the titles were great, he really liked the subtitle of that one. He tweaked it to “the Gays vs. Christians Debate,” which gave it an added punch, and then we set out to find the title that could go with the subtitle.
That was easier said than done, however. I brainstormed and brainstormed around the idea of “rescuing,” but all I could come up with were terrible titles like Spiritual CPR, which sounds clever for a moment (or not), then sounds contrived, and ultimately doesn’t fit the book at all.
I tried another tack: What about a title that highlighted the tension between the LGBT and Christian worlds? I made a list of words associated with LGBTs, and another list of words associated with Christianity. Then I tried pairing them up. That approach yielded something interesting and catchy: The Stained-Glass Closet. Hmmm. Not bad.
I wasn’t sold on it yet, but my agent and I agreed it was the best we had so far. We retitled the book The Stained-Glass Closet and pitched it as such to the publishers, ultimately resulting in a contract with the coolest publishers ever, Jericho Books.
The folks at Jericho loved the book, and they flew me to their Nashville headquarters, where we sat in a room with a big long table with a monitor at the end of it, showing another big long table in New York, with people from Jericho’s parent company, Hachette. It was just like something out of the movies! At this super-important, super-intimidating meeting, all of these people sat around and discussed my book. It was surreal. And you wanna guess what they said?
“Love the book. Hate the title.”
Well, not exactly, but that’s pretty much what it boiled down to. And so we went back to the drawing board once more, searching for a new and better title for this book that everyone seemed to love but which no title seemed to fit.
For months, I couldn’t take a shower or a walk or a nap without simultaneously brainstorming titles. I tried getting away from it for a while in hopes that something brilliant would strike me, but that didn’t work either. I came up with lots of titles that made me laugh, but I knew that none of them were really appropriate for the book.
Among my favorites:
Don’t Stone the Choir Director!
I Can’t Hear Jesus Over Your Bullhorn
Is It Love Or Is It Memorex?
The Late Great Gay Debate
Left Behind… by the Church
And of course:
Born Again This Way
(I know, right?!)
But none of these were serious candidates. The right title needed to be something that better captured the struggle so many people on both sides are facing, feeling pulled in multiple directions by the debate. It also needed to be shorter and simpler.
My publisher wisely suggested looking for a one- or two-word title, something short and sweet that would stand out on the shelf. We pitched a few ideas out, but nothing sounded right.
Then someone on the internet posted a comment on something I had written. Their screen name was “Pulled Apart,” reflecting their own struggles with the issue. The name struck a chord, and someone suggested that as a title.
Pulled Apart? I didn’t hate it, but it made me think of pulled pork. Still, I was pretty sure that was just me… until I asked a few other people what they thought of the title, and two of them independently said it made them think of pulled pork too! (Maybe that’s just a Southern thing.)
Still, I loved the concept of it, and it captured well what we wanted the title to say. We discussed various synonyms, ultimately narrowing the choices down to either Pulled Apart or the simple and punchy Torn. I sent out an email survey to various people whose opinion I respect, and Torn was the winner by a landslide. Everyone liked it, and after adding a couple of dashes to the subtitle for clarity, we had a title!
In retrospect, I really like the title. It fits. This is a debate that is tearing apart our churches and families, and the simple word “torn” reflects how so many people feel about this question: torn between what they feel and what they think, between their faith and their friends, between what they perceive to be true and what they perceive to be loving. If we’re not careful, this debate will tear us apart, and it’s important that we not let that happen.
So there you have it. That’s why when you walk into a bookstore in November, the book greeting you with my name on it will be called Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate. I really like that title, and I hope you do too, but if you don’t, just remember: It’s the inside that counts.
After all, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet—but it might not sell as well.
One of the issues I frequently encounter in conversations about controversial issues is what I call the “false compromise.” (There is a related logical fallacy called “false compromise,” but here I’m using the term in a way that is slightly different.)
Stick with me on this; I’m about to get all philosophical on you.
False compromises can exist whenever one side makes an exclusive claim about what is true or good and the other side makes a non-exclusive claim, but then offers to “compromise” with a similarly non-exclusive claim.
For example, let’s say that Alice and Bob are having an argument.
“I believe that Jesus is the only way to God,” says Alice. “Without Jesus, our sins would separate all of us from God. No other path to God can get you there without Jesus.”
Bob disagrees. “There are lots of religions in the world,” he says, “and they offer a number of different, equally valid paths to God. Jesus is one path to God, but not the only one.”
The two of them argue back and forth. Alice continues to argue that Jesus is the way, and Bob argues that Jesus is one way of many.
Finally, Bob attempts a compromise. “Well, how about we meet in the middle. Maybe Jesus is the only path for you, but he’s not the only path for me.”
In Bob’s mind, that’s a reasonable compromise. In Alice’s mind, it isn’t.
Why? Because it isn’t really a compromise at all. It’s actually just another version of the position Bob already held.
See, Bob already believed that there were multiple valid paths to God. By suggesting separate paths for himself and Alice, he’s continuing to believe that. So this “compromise” doesn’t require him to change his mind about anything; it’s just another way of saying something he already believed. By contrast, this “compromise” flies in the face of what Alice stands for, which is that there is only one valid path to God, a path that applies to everyone on the planet, including Bob.
That “compromise” isn’t really a compromise. It’s a false compromise that makes Bob feel good about himself while making Alice look like the extremist jerk when she rejects his proposed compromise. But it was never really a fair suggestion to begin with.
Another example: In the homosexuality debate, there are two basic positions. One (“Side A”) argues that we should celebrate loving, committed relationships regardless of gender. The other (“Side B”) argues that sex is designed to be between a man and a woman. In other words, Side A says that gay sex is acceptable (within the right context), and Side B says that it’s never acceptable, because it’s inherently sinful.
I used to be on Side B, and now I’m on Side A. But I often hear my fellow Side-Aers try to suggest a “compromise” position to the other side: “Well, how about we just agree that gay sex would be wrong for the people on Side B, but it’s not wrong for those of us on Side A.”
See, that’s not really a compromise. That’s really a Side A position.
As a Side A Christian, it’s easy for me to say, “I also respect the consciences of those who believe God calls them to celibacy.” I can do that without abandoning my Side A beliefs. It’s much harder for someone who is Side B to do the same for me, because they believe that gay sex is sinful for everyone; that’s part of what Side B means. So asking both sides to agree that the other’s approach is “right for them” isn’t really fair; it’s really biased in favor of Side A.
I hear about these sorts of false compromises all the time, and the group on the exclusive end of one issue may be on the non-exclusive end of another.
For instance, if I believe that ex-gay therapy is inherently harmful, then no, I don’t think it’s a “fair compromise” to say that it should be offered “only to those who want it.” Similar false compromises show up on questions about whether we should teach things as fact in schools (like evolution or the Holocaust). The same person who is irritated by Bob’s false compromise on multiple paths to God might not see any problem with a false compromise on teaching multiple theories of creation in school, and vice versa.
So in any given issue, whether you’re on the side of exclusivity or the side of non-exclusivity, keep in mind that not all compromises are really compromises. (And if you disagree with me on this, let’s meet in the middle and just agree that I’m right.)
As you can tell from those three video updates I posted last week for my mom, I’ve been traveling a lot lately, with very little time to blog. I’m finishing up a college speaking tour, and I’ve got three cities left before it’s all done: Lubbock, TX; Abilene, TX; and San Diego, CA.
Today, though, I have a question for all of you: Do you support or oppose homosexuality?
Think about that question for a moment.
Here, I’ll play some Jeopardy music for you.
Ba-da, dun dun, ba-da, dunnn, ba-da, ba-da, dee, ba-dadadada, ba-da, dun dun, ba-da, dunnn, ba, da-da-da, da, da, da, BUM BUM.
Okay, got your answer? Well, it was a trick question. I hope you didn’t wager too much.
I hear people all the time talking about their views on “homosexuality,” as if homosexuality were a thing. Spoiler alert: It’s not. But that doesn’t stop people from saying it: “I don’t approve of homosexuality.” “Homosexuality is a sin.” “We shouldn’t normalize homosexuality.”
But wait… what is homosexuality?
To make this clearer, suppose I asked you, “Do you support or oppose heterosexuality?”
But wait, before you answer, let’s make it even more specific.
Do you support or oppose heterosexuality before marriage?
Do you support or oppose teenage heterosexuality?
Well, it makes a great deal of difference what I mean by “heterosexuality,” doesn’t it? If I asked for your feelings about unmarried teens having heterosexual sex, that’s a question you could answer. But that’s not what I asked. I asked if you support or oppose heterosexuality, a term so vague that it could refer to any number of things. If you say you oppose “teenage heterosexuality,” I could easily interpret your words to mean that you oppose teenagers who go on dates before marriage or even the very idea of teenagers being straight at all.
But surely you wouldn’t have meant to condemn Billy for noticing that Julie is attractive; the problem is that terms like heterosexuality and homosexuality are just far too vague to have any real meaning in a conversation like this.
There are basically four different things someone might mean when they say “homosexuality,” and they are often confused.
1. Orientation. A person’s orientation tells you only who they are emotionally and physically attracted to. I call myself gay because that is my orientation: I’m attracted to guys, not girls. People don’t choose their orientation. Some people use the word temptations to describe their orientation.
2. Lust. A lot of people confuse orientation with lust, but they’re not the same thing at all. Lust is more than just being attracted to someone; it has to do with how you respond to those attractions in your mind. Lust is a sin regardless of whether you’re lusting for women, men, or even your neighbor’s snazzy new car. The same Greek word translated lust in the Bible also means covet. (More on this in another post.)
3. Sex. This is really what most people are talking about when they say that “homosexuality is a sin.” They mean that they disapprove of gay sex, but to someone like me, it sounds like you just disapprove of my unchosen orientation.
4. Relationship. When gay people talk about wanting to get married, it’s not sex they’re after, but rather, a relationship. Just as straight people (hopefully) don’t get married for the sex, gay people don’t either; we want love, commitment, understanding, and someone to come home to at night and talk about our day. For Christians who disapprove of gay sex, a challenging question can be how to respond to gay relationships. If there’s no sex in the relationship but there is romance, is it still acceptable? And would you assume two gay people are having sex if you see them holding hands? (Would you assume a straight couple is having sex if you see them holding hands?)
I said that there are four main things someone might mean when they talk about homosexuality, but there’s actually a fifth one. For many folks (and I confess this was true of me as well for years), the word homosexuality conjures up images of debauchery, promiscuity, and the worst stereotypes of the gay community. But of course, that’s not what it is to be gay at all, just as images of Mardi Gras don’t convey what it is to be straight.
So next time you hear someone tell you what their view of homosexuality is, challenge them to be more specific. What are they really talking about?