The Way Forward in the Church — Post #3

The Way Forward in the Church

Thanks so much Tim and Chris for engaging in Respectful Conversation. I look forward to your third posts as we consider what needs ongoing attention in our churches engaging LGBT members. Clearly there is much that we agree on and some disagreement, which is not surprising for a matter as controversial as sexual minorities in the church.

In this third contribution to our conversation, I want to identify what I consider to be the heart of the conflict and a way forward for the church. These matters are the heart of my ongoing effort to envision a pastoral way forward. I may not address all of your questions and comments explicitly but I hope that what I offer here implicitly speaks to your concerns.

I begin with what I consider to be central concerns in the conflict between “exclusion” and “inclusion” of members who are LGBTQ in the church. Then I will identify some resources that model The Way Forward and will help the church live into deeper understanding about sexuality, which is not only central to Christian identity but also ton what it means to be human. I believe these are essential for the future church that will no longer be dependent on heteronormative interpretations and determined by heteronormative power over sexual minorities. My hope is for a church living beyond “engaging with LGBT members” into full mutuality that welcomes, embraces, and honors all people on the same basis as valued and essential members of the body of Christ. The Apostle Paul’s beautiful body language of being one body with many members is dependent on difference honoring difference not dominating or dismembering difference (1 Corinthians 12:12ff.)

The heart of the Matter

In my experience the conflict over “homosexuality” circulates through three “issues” that dominate the divide and define the controversy:
1. Biblical tradition – scripture prohibits “homosexuality” as sin;
2. Church tradition — the church upholds the Bible’s prohibition of “homosexuality;”
3. Marriage tradition – the Bible and the Church uphold only a male-female marriage union.

The dominant tradition argument is that the Bible condemns “homosexuality” as sin in a few texts with no positive references, so the matter is settled in scripture. It is also unparalleled with other conflicted matters in the church, where great change has grown out of great controversy (e.g., slavery, divorce and remarriage, women in leadership) where numerous texts overwhelmingly portray one stance while a few texts hint of a different possibility.

The church has also faced changes over “homosexuality” in recent years, yet the divide remains. Changes have come over decisions and discipline, sexual identity and diversity, church policy and pastoral responsibility concerning LGBTQ members. But the traditional contention has not changed – “homosexuality” is not part of God’s created order and is, prohibited by the Bible and the Church. I use “homosexuality” here meaning the constellation of all that is projected onto sexual minorities.

Tim, this is why I say that select texts will not help us find a way forward. I am not saying disregard these texts but I am saying that traditional interpretations of these texts are not the only interpretations and not the only or even the best texts to help us find The Way forward. After 40 years I do not expect the substantial disagreement over those texts to be reconciled.  

The heart of my theology and pastoral experience and the heart of the congregations I have served, do not share this traditional approach to scripture or view of “homosexuality.” Our proclamation is that all members of the body of Christ have a full and equal place in the church with full and equal responsibility to live with integrity, fidelity, and faithfulness to God in Christ with each other in all relationships including marriage. This means honoring how God has created each of us in God’s own image. God’s ways are bigger and more mysterious than can be defined or confined by a finite understanding of being solely female or solely male as the sole embodied relationship of sacramental covenant love of marriage.

I find it incomprehensible to consider “homosexuality” to not be rooted in the biological creation of a human being. We are born into a vastly complex mystery of sexuality that we are living into and contending with all our lives. Some of us discover our sexual identity to be in a vast mystery we identify as LGBTQI. While that may be a minority sexual identity it is no less valued or valuable in God’s eyes or our eyes or the church’s eyes. There is no lesser or restricted status before God in Christ or in the Church.

Given a creation-based biological-sexual determination that all humans are born with, I find it equally incomprehensible for a sexual majority to must impose control that prevents a sister or brother who is a sexual minority from fully living their identity and calling, including the covenant love of sacramental marriage. God created us in God’s image as wholly-holy spiritual-sexual beings and created us to be in relationship. Yes, that has many manifestations, of which marriage is a primary human relationship. That truth and reality, not who is having sex with whom, is the heart of the matter.  

All that is to grapple with matters of sexuality. But sexuality is not the only “issue” at issue.  

Another dimension of what is at “issue” is who has the power to prohibit LGBTQ members, marriage, and ministry and how this power is wielded.   

Forgive me for reminding us, but from the beginning of this current conflict almost a half century ago, “homosexuality” was controversial precisely because our experiences, interpretations, world views, identities, personalities, and authority structures in the church were hugely different and highly conflicted on this very matter.

Yet it was not “homosexuality” alone that birthed differences and manifested conflict. I have yet to hear a coherent explanation of why “homosexuality” is our greatest church defining and dividing “issue” for the past half century.

I believe our reasons for it being church defining and dividing are rooted in “issues” deeper than “homosexuality.” What I have long known and often said as a pastor, is that for most matters we fight over in the church, “the issue is not the issue.” What is identified as the “issue” is often a manifestation of and triggered by much deeper matters we deny or don’t want to face.

I see two deeper “issues” that drive this conflict and divide us. First, the church has a tragic history with sexuality – being embodied sexual humans created in God’s image. Our fears and fantasies about being sexual bodies are projected onto “homosexuality” rather than faced forthrightly. Projection always blinds us and keeps us from healthy honest sexual self-examen (both in terms of serious study and in terms of the Jesuit spiritual exercise; also both in terms of our personal embodiment and our communal embodiment). Our persistent denial or refusal to face these profound sexual matters in ourselves and in human relationship in the church tends to be projected onto “others” who are not “us.” Our projection is manifested as control over the “other” to keep them away so we aren’t reminded of something we need to face in ourselves. If we are afraid of our own sexuality, we are even more afraid of same-sex sexuality. In other words, we have both an obsession with sexuality and aversion to sexuality that subverts the centrality of sexuality in human life and relationship. Furthermore, our obsession and aversion manifested as denial and projection are a significant contributing factor to sexual abuse and sexual infidelity in the church, particularly where there are power differentials. These matters desperately need the church’s fullest attention. Our obsessive focus on “homosexuality” has not and will not help us find The Way Forward.   

This segues into the second deeper issue we face in the church over sexuality, which is power. At one level, a central “issue” in this controversy is over authority – authority of scripture, authority of church leaders, authority of the church, and our own personal authority. All of those embody multiple levels of meaning worthy of unpacking. That too is more than this conversation can bear. More to the point here, underneath these struggles with authority is the deeper “issue” of power. Who decides and how are decisions enacted and enforced? Equally important is who doesn’t have power and who is the recipient of what is enacted and enforced?

The power for “exclusion” and the power for “inclusion” are opposing forces, to be sure. But they are not parallel approaches or access to power; they do not have parallel strategic or substantive purposes. 

From the beginning a decade ago, our Inclusive Mennonite Pastors effort has been invitational and formational rather than dominating and disciplinary. We don’t demand that everyone agree and act with us. We don’t threaten to take our congregations and leave the denomination if those who exclude LGBTQ members remain in the denomination. We don’t have and wouldn’t use power to discipline and dismember congregations or pastors who are “exclusive.”  We believe we can be and must be the Church together even with these differences.

Chris, in your first post, you spoke of your own denomination, The Episcopal Church, wielding power in ways, I understand to be troubling for you. As I followed TEC’s process when Gene Robinson was elected as a bishop, two questions arose for me: What makes it permissible to be an ordained priest, as a married gay man and impermissible to be a bishop?  Is not the deeper “issue” how power is used to make that happen or prevent it from happening?

I understand your discomfort with this TEC action and your tension over it. You described this as having, “set off a conflict that has resulted in many…leaving TEC, and has brought the global Anglican Communion to the brink of schism.” There are multiple levels of “issues” running through that TEC controversy and certainly power is wielded in multiple ways. Do not these matters and methods call for deep reflection to understand them?

Chris, as a committed compassionate pastor, you wisely “listened to angry, frustrated, and confused straight people….running the gamut” of views over this conflict in TEC. You also share why you left TEC and your concern and commitment to “historic and global Christianity” in order to align yourself with Christians in the Global South and other Christian streams. Again I understand this and support you in it because I trust your faithful discernment and pastoral commitment to Christ and the church.

In my involvement with the Mennonite Church and Mennonite World Conference, I too have listened to “angry, frustrated, and confused straight people.” I have also listened deeply to voices of LGBTQ sisters and brothers and families across this country and in the Global South. A Mennonite gay man in Latin America contacted me to share his story and struggle when he heard that I was being disciplined by the Mennonite Church. He longed for a pastoral connection he could not find in his country. Many LGBTQ family members who contact me are from traditional Midwest rural Mennonite communities where they also find little care from their pastor or congregations. While there are differences in how various racial and religious groups across the country and around the world feel about “homosexuality,” there are vulnerable sexual minorities in every culture, country, race, and religion crying to be heard and held as fully human rather than hated and harmed. 

In another tangential yet connected comment: Fear drives our political culture today and fear drives much of our ecclesial culture today. In this country our church and political culture are deeply intertwined. But that too is far more than I can address here.  

The Heart of The Way Forward in Three Bodies

Three “bodies” merit renewed attention: the body of scripture, the human body, and the body of Christ. I believe that it is essential to attend to all three “bodies” in fresh ways and offer the following resources as deserving particular attention for this purpose.

Sandra M. Schneiders’ life and vocation integrates New Testament scholarship and Christian spirituality. Her book, The Revelatory Text: Interpreting the New Testament as Sacred Scripture (Liturgical Press, 1999) demonstrates that scripture does far more than contain divine revelation, it participates in divine revelation. Thus sacred scripture interpreted and integrated in the life of the church is transformational. Sacramental imagination informs our communal encounter with and interpretation of the biblical text that is the Living Word of God. Schneiders applies her hermeneutical model to Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well (John 4) that is embodied transformation integrating the body of scripture, the human body, and the body of Christ.

Luke Timothy Johnson acknowledges Schneider’s revelatory approach and builds on it with his new book, The Revelatory Body: Theology as Inductive Art (Eerdmans, 2015). He reveals his purpose in the “Introduction: Toward an Inductive Theology:”

Two simple convictions animate this exercise in theology. The first is that the human body is the preeminent arena for God’s revelation in the world, the medium through which God’s Holy Spirit is most clearly expressed. God’s self-disclosure in the world is thus continuous and constant. The second conviction is that the task of theology is the discernment of God’s self-disclosure in the world through the medium of the body. Therefore, theology is necessarily an inductive art rather than a deductive science. An even simpler premise underlies these convictions: authentic faith is more than a matter of right belief; it is the response of human beings in trust and obedience to the one whom Scripture designates as the Living God….of whom Scripture speaks both creates the world at every moment and challenges the ways in which human freedom tends toward distortion of creation – and indeed the Creator. Among the idols that authentic faith must resist are the idols of human thought concerning God.

I find The Revelatory Text and The Revelatory Body to be particularly relevant for the Church to find The Way Forward. I am confident this approach transforms biblical interpretation, transforms God’s people, and transforms the Church. That three-fold embodied transformation may even transform God’s world.  

Christian ethicist Margaret A. Farley’s Just Love: A Framework for Christian Sexual Ethics (Continuum, 2006), recognizes “There is nothing new about questioning the meaning of human sexuality or the criteria for its incorporation into a moral view of human life…..Yet the questioning that goes on today is decidedly different from most of what has preceded it in the history of Western culture” (1). She explores historical and cultural views of sexuality before focusing on “Sexuality and It’s Meaning” including “How the Body Matters” through “Theories of the Body” and “Transcendental Embodiment.” Getting to the heart of her work, Farley is then prepared to address “Just Love and Just Sex” to pose a “Framework for Sexual Ethics.” Farley climaxes her work with “Patterns of Relationship” as a “Context for Just Love” applied to “Marriage and Family, Same-Sex Relationships, [and] Divorce and Remarriage.”

Farley speaks of being “embodied persons” and “inspirited bodies” and unpacks two arenas of embodiment through which most concerns about the human body swirl: “the relation between soul (or mind or spirit) and body” and “social constructionism; that is whether and how the meaning of the body is culturally and socially formed, influenced, constructed” (111).

Farley concludes:

In the end, I have attempted to contextualize and illuminate our understanding of sexuality and its possibilities for human fulfillment. Looking to the past and present, to cultures far and near, I have tried to sort the multiple meanings and goals of sexuality, sex, gender, and embodiment. Above all, I have asked and tried to respond to the question of when sexuality and its expressions are appropriate in human relationships. I have promised a sexual ethic grounded in and specified by concerns for justice. Justice, I have tried to show, is not a cold notion apart from love; it is what guides, protects, nourishes, and forms love, and what makes love just and true. It concerns our loves and our actions; it concerns the sort of persons we want to be. I repeat what I have said before: it is not an easy task to introduce considerations of justice into every sexual relation and the evaluation of every sexual activity. But if sexuality is to be creative and not destructive, then there is no substitute discerning ever more carefully whether our expressions of it are just (311).

The Way Forward? Christian Voices on Homosexuality and the Church (Timothy Bradshaw, editor; Second Edition: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2003) is an Anglican Church effort to address this conflict in the 1990s. This volume shares thirteen diverse Anglican voices acknowledging that “homosexuality is an ecclesial-political as well as theological matter” (vii) in an effort to consider how “we conduct ourselves so as to live out the creative intention of God for the common good of humanity” (xiv) with a “desire to seek common ground on which proper theological discussion might take place in an appropriate spirit of Christian courtesy” (xiii).

I am impressed with the rigor and diversity of the theological conversation made available in this book and can imagine with gratitude the dialogue that took place in this symposium.  

For more than a decade I have envisioned a Mennonite Church face-to-face respectful conversation and have urged Mennonite Church leaders to host it. I envision a series of seminars addressing every biblical, theological, ecclesial, pastoral, psychological, relational, spiritual, and sexual dimension we can imagine from this controversy. From that ongoing wholistic integrated effort we might see each other and the matter with new eyes of love and trust. Needless to say it has never happened. What has happened is that the Mennonite Church has become mired in a predictable impasse that we falsely blame on “homosexuality” with “exclusive” churches leaving when they can no longer discipline or dismember “inclusive” churches. Beloved sisters and brothers in Christ that is not being faithful to God and is not The Way Forward in Christ. It isn’t the only answer and it may be too late, but I still fervently believe that it would be a refreshing and revealing conversation that might let God surprise us into a new unity in diversity as a Mennonite Church.  

With deep gratitude to you Chris and Tim, I conclude this third post, knowing our respectful conversation is a work-in-progress deserving more than I have offered.  

I let a cherished spiritual guide have the last word emanating from the First Word:  

God’s love is an endless sea of mercy and unconditional acceptance.
The deeper you go, the more you fall into the Mystery.
As you fall into the Mystery of an ever-loving God,
you are able to accept the mystery of yourself.
And as you accept the mystery of yourself,
you fall into the Mystery of God.
People who love God love themselves and everybody else.
People who love themselves and everybody else love God.
You see, love is one. Love is whole.
Love is an endless sea that you fall into. 
And once you fall into it, you can’t fall out.
It’s not something you do.
It’s something that is done to you, and all you can do is let go.

Richard Rohr, OFM, Center for Action and Contemplation Morning Meditation, 2/20/16

 

God Doesn’t Care (about rules, God cares about human beings)

Caravaggio Ecce Homo – cc via Wikimedia- edited

I confessed to my pastor, when I was in my early 20’s and had just moved to San Francisco, that I had recently had anonymous sex with another man.  As a committed, evangelical Christian I felt intense guilt and shame. My pastor, Jack Bernard, did not minimize the sinfulness of what I had done. But he did tell me, “Tim, you need to know that God is not a moralist.”

“Moralist,” was not a familiar word to me and it took me awhile to puzzle out his meaning. As I thought about it, I realized it meant something like this: God wasn’t upset that I broke some rules. If God was upset, it was because God loved me and I was hurting myself. Just as Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27), so too, the rules were made to guide me into life, health, and goodness. The rules were meant to keep me from hurting myself and others.

try to receive all the love God has to give and that love will make us good

I still struggle to live into the truth that God is all love and not a moralist. If God is ever angry, it is because in the words of Karl Barth, “God’s anger is the heat of his love.” God is fully for us. God is love. Trying to be good out of a fear that God will eternally torture us if we are bad will make us small, self-obsessed souls. Rather, a better project is to try to receive all the love God has to give and that love will make us good.

If God is a moralist then the stakes are high for each one of us. We need to “get it right” to merit God’s love. In the debate over LGBT sexuality, this can take the form of thinking that we must fight “for justice” or “defend the authority of Scripture.”

But if we believe that God is fundamentally for us, we can relax and actually be good by loving others. This certainly includes LGBT Christians (and our perspective on how to do that), but it also includes loving those Christians who “get it wrong” by “devaluing Scripture,” or “ignoring justice.” Loving other Christians will mean many things, but first of all it means not abandoning them by separating from them.

My own opinion is that having curiosity about what God is doing in the life of a gay Christian may mean encouraging someone towards either a “liberal” or a “conservative” perspective. For instance, I can imagine Christians coming alongside “Kent” and observing that “Like many oppressed minorities you’ve fetishized and idolized the goods of the majority culture. As much as you obsess over getting married, your driven relationship with “Sam” seems destructive for you both. You may want to give yourself to celibacy, and to welcoming the healing love of God.” Or, for “Emily” it might mean reflecting, “Growing up in a fundamentalist home, it seems like you’ve internalized a self-loathing toward your body in general and your gay sexuality in particular. As ‘Amy’ loves you bodily, it seems like a source of grace and healing for you. We’d like to support you in marrying her.”

In this model, “Scripture” or “justice” do not become rigid dictates which reduce the Christian life to an exercise in painting by numbers. Rather, the life of faith requires faith that the Holy Spirit is available and will show us (yes through Scripture, and the demands of justice, and tradition, and the gifts of pastoral discernment, and other things as well) what faithfulness looks like in a given situation. 

Seeing God as “not a moralist,” is a crucial context for this conversation. Chris and Weldon, I feel like both of you have entered this conversation in a non-anxious way that helps us toward truth rather than further alienation. Thank you for the generous spirit (Spirit?) you’ve both exhibited in this; it has been an honor to participate in this dialogue with you. I’ll try to respond to some of the issues the two of you raised.

Responses to Weldon

Weldon, you ask an incisive series of questions that get to the heart of how difficult it is to maintain unity in the face of disagreement. I reproduce them here:

How do you as a pastor hold together the views of those who feel strongly about “exclusion” and “inclusion” of LGBT members? Do you see these as parallel opposing views? In other words how do you encourage members to agree to disagree and still be church together? . . . Are there limits to how far and on what concerns our disagreements can be embraced and still maintain the unity of the body? . . . It really matters who is being harmed and what violence is being down to whom and with what manner of privilege and power are marshalled to harm another member of the body. Chris and Tim, has that been acknowledged or addressed in your churches? If so how do you navigate and negotiate those differences? . . . As a pastor what is your response and responsibility when an LGBT member comes to you to explore marriage or ministry? What is the church’s role and response when that happens?

First off I need to confess that the church I’m part of has been a “Third Way” church in that we’ve allowed for both views but have asked LGBT people to bear the burden of being Third Way by remaining celibate. I’d like us to continue as a Third Way church, but would like for a change in policy so that non-affirming Christians bear the burden of the disagreement since they are the people of privilege in this situation (we hope to begin such a conversation in the Fall). Practically this would mean allowing LGBT Christians to marry and serve in leadership.

I recently interviewed Ken Wilson, a pastor of a Third Way church in which this is being practiced. I asked him questions similar to the one’s you’ve addressed to me. He answered, in part:

It’s been my experience, that people from conservative backgrounds really have to get it. They have to buy into Romans 14 [A passage in which Paul exhorts Christians to ‘welcome one another in the face of ‘disputable matters.’]. They have to let go of their privilege in order to follow this path. And some can do it and some can’t. But that’s true of many things in Christianity. How many conservative Christians are obeying the Gospel commands of radical discipleship in the realms of materialism, and greed, and other areas of life? So the fact that it’s not easy for people to do, doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.

I agree. I also think it is crucial for a congregation to see that having important differences of opinion, and yet continuing to live in love and unity is an important witness of what it means to be a people of peace, a people who call Jesus Lord. It is no great accomplishment (although given our sin it is still an accomplishment!) to get a group of similar people to live in unity. But if we can live in love and peace across differences, then we have something worth sharing with others.

Weldon, you also make the following observation:

Finally, I find it surprising that none of us directly addressed the traditional creation question, where God’s creation of male and female somehow means “homosexuality” is not of creation and is “disordered.” My sense is that arguments over “birth” versus “choice” claims for “LGBT” orientation have diminished as awareness, experience, and scientific evidence grows that indicates considerable biological factors and nuanced diversity in sexual orientation. However, I have spent my pastoral years in congregations where that wasn’t disputed. So I am wondering if or how that is still a matter of contention across our churches?

I addressed this in my last post, so I’ll just briefly comment on this here. I contend that God’s ideal pattern (as revealed in the Genesis account) is that of male and female joining together in marriage. Based on this, the Christian tradition has labeled same-sex coupling as a “disorder,” a non-conformity with God’s will, and therefore a sin. But just because something deviates from the ideal, it isn’t necessarily a sin.

In a “God is not a moralist” context, we believe that God isn’t making up artificial stumbling blocks to holiness. We’ll usually be able to see how sin harms human beings, or subverts community (think of archetypal sins like murder, adultery, stealing). In the ancient world, with its emphasis on the production of progeny for the sake of social, cultural, and economic goods, most homosexual relations happened on the “down-low” (or at least outside of marriage). People did harm to their own integrity and community. By engaging in homosexual acts, people wronged themselves and others.

 I think gay relationships can build up people and communities

But as the behavioral sciences reveal a homosexual orientation to be a non-pathological variant on human sexuality, there is reason to see homosexuality as a “disability” rather than a “disorder.” (I realize that many of my gay friends will resist this label. But, if you don’t think of disabled individuals as “inferior,” I don’t see what the problem is.) If it is a disability, then we might say, “love as you can.” To borrow an idea from ethicist David Gushee: “Participate in the beautiful, historic Christian sexual ethic of covenantal monogamy. It is a difficult road but a sanctifying one.” Practiced this way, I think gay relationships can build up people and communities rather than damage them.

As we see the Spirit in gay couples animating hospitality, service to the local church, and generally blessing others, I think there is good reason to re-assess our view of a same-sex acts as necessarily sinful.

Responses to Chris

I was fascinated that you love the image of the Christian life as improvisation and that you see that as a rationale for the non-affirming perspective. I love that image as well, but see it as a potent argument for the affirming side. As I noted earlier, I think literalist approaches to Scripture make Christianity into a “paint by numbers” exercise rather than an adventure in faith. It is as if most Christians think that in Scripture we have the script for Act IV!

While I agree that the new creation has its roots in Eden, a tree can look a lot different than its roots. One of the few things we know about the new creation is that “At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage” (Matthew 22:30). In the New Testament we already see a considerable de-emphasis on the traditional family. Jesus and Paul both seem to be single. Paul recommends that single people remain single unless they are “not practicing self-control” (1 Corinthians 7:9). Marriage, in this view, doesn’t seem freighted with all the theological weight we tend to ascribe to it, but is a rather plain solution to God’s compassionate observation, “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Gen 2:18).  

Since that is the most plainly stated Biblical purpose of marriage (rather than the speculative, and sometimes beautiful theories about how its real purpose is to mirror the unity-in-diversity of the Trinity) I see an opening for gay marriage.

The Christian life as improvisation also provides warrant for taking Gentile inclusion as a possible analogy for LGBT inclusion. If we were to ask evangelical Christians the question, “Who do you think is the most ‘far off’ from God group of people you know? The people most plagued by idolatry and sexual immorality?” I think many would answer “the gay community.” That is, of course, exactly how the Jews thought of Gentiles. And our full inclusion is more of a miracle than most of us Gentiles will ever admit.

Gentile inclusion meant that parts of the law were set aside. While I know that Jews would have seen gay sex as sexual immorality (something the Gentiles were asked to put aside), as I’ve noted above, there are good reasons to revisit gay sex as sin if it is in the context of a marriage.

Chris, I also agree that some of our disagreements are over the way we envision church. Anabaptist churches in general are small, and I in particular am attracted to ideas like the one in Joseph Hellerman’s book When the Church was a Family. Basically, it is the idea that the most common word for Christians in the New Testament was “brother” (and presumably “sister”), and that we are meant to act as family to each other.

In regard to your question about how a Third Way would work out if the pastor opposed gay marriage, in my context we’d work it out as if we were a family (which isn’t always great!). It might be something like: Malcolm would talk with Pastor Sally about his desire to marry his boyfriend and Sally would explain why she doesn’t bless gay marriages but also (having had this conversation twice already) that she knows a nearby pastor who will do it, and that in spite of not doing the wedding she still loves Malcolm to pieces (which he already knows, because she visited him faithfully when he was in the hospital).

Of course there is always the possibility that Malcolm will stomp off in a rage declaring that Sally doesn’t really love him. Or Sally might capitulate and seethe with resentment while she conducts the ceremony.  But hey, that’s how we Anabaptists do business. Or hopefully, family.

But I don’t know how it would work in a different setting. Putting up the hood on the Book of Common Prayer to mess with its engine sounds daunting. And the fact that you all think of marriage as a sacrament between a man and woman . . . do sacraments even have a latch for the hood?

For Further Thought

I am troubled by my inability to completely articulate a way of interpreting Scripture that avoids the dangers of literalism, while retaining something to which we must submit. Reading Scripture (I’m in 1 Samuel in my read-through-the-Bible plan) I find it to be a different book than the one described by most evangelicals. So I resonate with critiques like Peter Enn’s For the Bible Tells me So and Christian Smith’s The Bible Made Impossible. But both of those books falter in terms of a positive proposal for how we should interpret Scripture. I don’t feel completely adrift in this regard, but it troubles me. I want to keep thinking and talking with others about how to understand the Bible as an authoritative narrative.

Due to this conversation, I’ve started (only started) Ephraim Radner’s book A Brutal Unity. I understand that he suggests a self-sacrifice of conscience for the sake of unity. Early on he writes, “To be ‘one Church’ is to be joined to the unity of the Son to the Father, who, in the Spirit, gives himself away (Heb 9:14), not in some general flourish of self-denial, but to and for the sake of his enemies, the ‘godless,’ for their life.” Grounding this move in the example of Christ seems promising.

Whether Radner’s proposal has merit or not, we desperately need a way beyond the endless splintering of Protestantism. We need to model a way of unity in difference if the world is ever going to believe that the Messiah has come. I hope that all sides can devote more passion and energy toward finding a way of unity for the church.

On that note, I hope this dialogue has made its own tiny contribution toward that. Weldon and Chris, I’ve been surprised at the charity and generosity you’ve both had toward me and I experience it as a grace. Thank you to both of you and to readers who have made their way through these articles. May little sparks like this become a forest fire of forgiveness, reconciliation, and solidarity.

 

Looking back, moving forward

I so much appreciated both Tim’s and Weldon’s second posts. They modeled the kind of respectful conversation that I suspect is the hope for this respectful conversation.

Our final posts are supposed to identify issues that the three of us need to give more thought to as a basis for ongoing conversation. Before I do that, however, I’d like, briefly, to answer a couple of the questions that Tim and Weldon posed to me in their second posts. 

First, Tim asked about the early Christians’ decision to put aside the Sabbath for Gentile converts, suggesting that, since the Sabbath, which is so central to the creation narrative, was set aside in the New Covenant, the male-female sexual union might also be set aside. My response is that Jesus, The Acts of the Apostles, Paul, and the author of the Letter to the Hebrews each speak about the Sabbath, namely how the coming of Jesus changes how God’s people understand and experience the Sabbath. Jesus violated the Sabbath prohibitions of gleaning and healing, demonstrating that in God’s kingdom pursuing shalom is always acceptable. In Acts 15, the apostles set aside Sabbath regulations, which had become ethno-cultural identity markers, for Gentile converts. In Romans 14, Paul specifically mentions those who “esteem one day better than another” as worthy of welcome and honor, all the while insisting that the one for whom “all days are alike” are worthy of equal welcome (Romans 14:5-6). The Letter to the Hebrews recasts the Sabbath in eschatological terms, writing that, “a Sabbath rest remains for the people of God” (Hebrew 4:9). Again, while the Sabbath and food laws were set aside for Gentile converts (and Jewish believers who felt so led), sexual morality was, if anything, made more challenging for both Jew and Gentile in the New Covenant. Thus I see no ground in setting aside the historic Christian understanding of marriage and sexuality, as it is rooted in the creation narrative, was strengthened by Jesus himself, and then affirmed by Paul.

Second, to Tim’s question about my relationship to Christians in Global South, I should be clear that I’ve been quite open about my strong opposition to the “anti-gay” laws that have been in the news recently in many countries in Africa. I’ve also spent time with some of these brothers and sisters, seeking to understand their perspective, all the while sharing my concerns. It’s interesting that Tim raised the issue of polygamy. Among our brothers and sisters in Africa, there seems to be a consensus that, when a man in multiple marriages comes to faith in Christ, it would be a greater wrong to insist that he simply choose one wife, thus exposing the others to deep shame and vulnerability, than to remain in an arrangement that is less than God’s intention but does honor and protects his wives. So, the man is allowed to maintain the marriages, yet, he is prohibited from serving in church leadership. I wonder if, ironically, this pastoral solution might be roughly applicable to a man or woman in a same-sex marriage who may come to faith in Christ, especially a couple who are raising children. 

Weldon asked about scholars who have influenced me, to whom I turn when wrestling through a challenging exegetical issue. I referenced both NT Wright and Richard Hays in my last post. They are two scholars that I often turn to on interpretive issues. Also, I appreciated Mennonite biblical scholar Willard Swartley’s book on this topic. After doing the exegesis of the texts directly related to same-sex intimacy, he demonstrates that the church’s “evolution” on pacifism, slavery, and woman in leadership are consistent with the New Testament, especially taking into consideration the “redemptive arc” of God’s kingdom, while that same arc simply wouldn’t work for same-sex relationships.

Weldon also asked about how our church teaches about issues of sexuality. Again, being a hierarchical church, our national denomination is clear that we uphold the historic Christian understanding of marriage as a lifelong covenant between a man and a woman. So, I’m not permitted to perform same-sex marriages. Importantly, if a couple comes to me for marriage preparation, and one (or both) partner has been divorced, my bishop must grant permission, taking into account the circumstances of the prior marriage(s). Permission is not always forthcoming. 

In my preaching I roughly follow the Revised Common Lectionary, so, when assigned texts deal with issues of marriage and sexuality, I’ll preach on it. For example, last October the assigned gospel reading was Mark 10:2-12. It’s true that there are a lot more texts on compassion, mercy, forgiveness, grace, and justice, so my people generally hear more about these topics than on topics specifically relating to sexuality. I’ll often mention LGBT people as groups who tend to be marginalized and beaten down, thus especially close to God’s heart.

Also, in our new members’ class, we walk through the Book of Common Prayer, which, of course, includes the liturgy for Holy Matrimony that I mentioned last week. As I teach about marriage, I also try to articulate my “welcoming but not affirming” posture toward LGBT people. When someone joins our church, they know that our intention is to uphold the historic Christian teaching and practice on marriage, all the while welcoming any who might come. Finally, our youth minister occasionally teaches on issues related to sexuality, and he’s been clear with both the youth and their parents that our congregation is a safe place to wrestle through issues of sexual identity.

I realize that the above responses are no doubt inadequate, yet I hope that they offer some insight into my thinking and pastoral practice.

In thinking about issues to which each of us need to give more thought in this continuing conversation, I believe that the primary issue is, as Weldon expressed in his second post, our hermeneutical paradigms. How do we read, interpret, and then apply scripture to our given pastoral contexts? From this crucial question flows several others. For example, what is the role of the historic and global church, versus the local congregation, in discerning the Spirit’s leading in and through scripture? Another question that comes to mind is the criteria for breaking fellowship. How do we balance Jesus’ prayer for unity and Paul’s consistent admonitions to “be of one mind” (see, for example, Romans 15:5, 2 Corinthians 13:11, and Philippians 2:2) with both Paul’s and John’s pastoral practice of expelling brothers and sisters who transgress doctrinal and / or ethical boundaries?

I still believe that the burden of proof is on those who argue for an affirming position, so I think that my affirming brothers and sisters need to do work on a theology of marriage that would include same-sex couples. Since gender complementarity has been so central to understanding the nature of marriage, is same-sex marriage, technically, even possible? If anything, I believe that the Obergefell decision has made this kind of reflection more difficult, as now gender is no longer a factor in legal marriage.

For Tim’s “Third Way” position, it seems that there are many practical issues to work out. As I mentioned in my second post, I don’t think that a non-affirming pastor could be effective at a Third Way congregation, nor a non-affirming youth pastor. I also wonder how many non-affirming parents would feel comfortable if their children began to struggle with sexual identity issues at a Third Way church.

For me, well, to Weldon’s question, I need to stay open to the Spirit’s leading, always open to read, pray, and listen, to whatever, to paraphrase Weldon, God might put in before me. I also need to make sure that my congregation, and, to extent that I have influence, my denomination, never becomes a safe-haven for homophobia.

I hope that the above is a helpful “last word”, which, ideally, is not the last word at all, but rather the last word in a specific conversation, which is a part of a much larger and ongoing conversation to which we are called, continually, to participate.

Tim, I value your voice and example, and I’m grateful that we’ve been able to spend time together in the past. I hope that there might be more time together in the future. Weldon, I resonated with your comment about “relational distance” between us. Thank you for trusting me with your story, and I hope that you’ve found my contributions helpful. I’d love to meet you someday to further our conversation, and, more importantly, deepen our bond in Christ. 

It’s been an honor and a privilege to participate in this conversation. I only hope that it has been helpful to the two of you, and to anyone who may have read the posts. It may become increasingly difficult to be a congregation that welcomes LGBT people yet maintains the historic Christian teaching on marriage, but as I wrestle with scripture and tradition in our unique local context, it is the only place my (hopefully Spirit-formed) conscience will allow me to be. So, today, here I humbly stand.

“Agreeing and Disagreeing in Love and Learning” by Weldon Nisly

The first challenge of this Respectful Conversation for me is that it is taking place online rather than in person. Nevertheless, it is a worthy conversation as we navigate this conflicted concern not only for ourselves but also for this eCircle and even for the church. It seems to me that our focus on “Christian faithfulness and human sexuality” is half of our purpose; the other half is modeling “Respectful Conversation” as faithful Christians who may differ significantly on substantive matters.  I hope my contribution honors both halves of this conversation.

A second challenge is responding to two conversation partners fully and fairly rather than to only one. Nevertheless, being three voices rather than two enlarges the conversation and expands the experience we bring to our particular part of this Respectful Conversation. Hopefully our three-way conversation adds a fruitful dimension to the larger dialogue.

My first response is to thank you, Chris and Tim, for your passionate personal and pastoral posts. I am grateful for you, for the clarity of your conviction, and for your contribution to this conversation. I am eager to share a second and third round of this conversation with you. Tim, I haven’t had the pleasure of reading your book, Oriented to Faith, which likely would have helped me know you better. I do recall our phone conversation about these matters a few years ago. Chris, this month’s exchange is my first connection with you. Not knowing each other poses a distance that has a relational downside for such an important conversation. But it may also foster a kind of generosity of spirit toward each other as an upside to our conversation.

There is so much worthy of conversation in what both of you have written that I am sure I will miss some important matters that merit response and questions. Rather than trying to speak to everything worth considering in your sharing, my intention is to identify a few arenas of agreement and note some ways we may disagree. Along with asking questions of each of you, I am sure I will offer further observations from my experience that I trust contributes to our continuing conversation.   

Agreements

Tim and Chris, a first arena of agreement that we share is claiming and proclaiming the church’s mandate to live the gospel. At the outset, Chris, you rightly acknowledge that ours is a daunting yet important task worth exploring “as we seek to embody the gospel faithfully in our particular cultural context.” Tim, you begin by rightly proclaiming “Churches should model the difficult practice of loving each other in spite of differences.”

I wholeheartedly concur that the Church is to faithfully embody the gospel, that we do so in a particular context, and that the test and testimony for doing so is loving each other. As Christians and as the Church we embody Christ’s love before a watching world. I sense that we agree that the central message Jesus commanded disciples is “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35).  I suspect we all agree that that is easier said than done and that we often fail to live Jesus’ love in our lives, in the church, and in the world.

A question I have long held in my heart is what would be transformed in how churches engage LGBT members if we truly loved as Christ loves us? What if every conversation about “Christian faith and human sexuality” was grounded in and measured by the love of Christ? Thanks to both of you for keeping the gospel of Jesus Christ front and center in your lives and ministry and in this conversation. I add my “Amen!” to your witness and proclamation.

I see a second arena of agreement being in the pain we bear and sorrow we share over how the church inflicts pain on sisters and brothers who are LGBT. Tim, you very graciously unpacked your vision for the church navigating this conflicted territory and noted the “many casualties” this conflict has cost the church: “We’ve ruptured families, churches, and denominations. We’ve hurt sexual minorities and alienated sincere Christians….We’ve eviscerated the Gospel witness that because of Jesus we can be reconciled not only to God, but with one another.” Chris, you lamented that “LGBT individuals have experienced horrible persecution from Christians….[and] have experienced profound rejection, and even violence, at the hands of religious leaders.” You both express a clear word that stands as a strong critique of the pain inflicted on our LGBT sisters and brothers by the church. I am grateful for and share the way you contrast such violent rejection of LGBT members with “Jesus’ radical welcome” and loving relationship with oppressed and marginalized people throughout the gospels.  

I also know that the pain I bear as an older white male heterosexual pastor encountering oppressive violence toward LGBT members, or even toward me as a welcoming and affirming pastor, is miniscule compared to the pain born by sisters and brothers who are victimized by such violence. In a comment not directed at either of you but from long painful experience in the church, I find it incomprehensible and unconscionable that “homosexuality” is deemed to be sin justifying the egregious sin of violence against sisters and brothers we categorically consider “other.” That flies in the face of all that is Jesus and the Gospels. What really is sin in this conflict? 

Let me add here that I intentionally use sin rather than sins. To speak of sins misleadingly references individual acts of moral transgression, particularly of dominant systems, rules, or boundaries. Sin is embodied before it is enacted. Sin is that which violates God, humanity, and creation, as a state of being in which behavior is enacting the violence (sin) already embodied.

Tim, I connects this view with what you rightly note about the Bible being wrongly used as a “moral encyclopedia.” You follow that up by reminding us that the Bible is “more a storybook than a morality textbook.” I concur that the Bible is the living Word of God not a moral code or rule book. In interpreting and living God’s Word we find much good moral instruction but not a moral weapon.

A third arena of agreement is our desire that our churches cease making “homosexuality” be the church defining and dividing matter that has broken human bodies and the body of Christ (my words not yours). Tim, you name so well that “the church should adopt a ‘third-way’ stance not just because the reasons this argument gets so heated are misguided. This is a chance for the church to witness to a beautiful and important aspect of the gospel: that because of Christ people who disagree over important things can still live together in peace.”

I heartily concur that we have an extraordinary opportunity to embody Christ’s peace rather than the breaking the body of Christ.

Chris, your call for being “welcoming and non-affirming” offers a way forward that you have embraced for your church. I read into your sharing a desire to find a way beyond this church-dividing matter when you claim “a place of affirming the historic Christian teaching on marriage and sexuality while seeking to embrace LGBT people outside of the church and create space for creative, non-sexual, expressions of love and intimacy for those LGBT brothers and sisters within the church.”

I will probe that further in a moment but for now identify your stance as a way forward in the church that refrains from the “horrible persecution” with “disastrous consequences” you name. I concur with your recognition that “if we refuse to create space for LGBT Christians to flourish relationally, only telling them what they can’t do, we unwittingly wind up doing more harm than good.”

Could we agree that “human flourishing” is one of God’s intentions for all humans and that it has something (everything) to do with being in loving mutual relationship?

Disagreements

The common ground we find to agree on has potential to go a long way toward transforming our differences and transcending this great divide in the church. Nevertheless, by intent in this conversation and by virtue of being members of the body of Christ, we are compelled to honestly confess and explore our differences.

Chris and Tim, what I offer here doesn’t begin to do justice to the multiplicity and magnitude of these matters or to your good sharing. But I hope that I can respectfully reveal the heart of my concerns and ongoing exploration. I commend both of you for your clarity and commitment to scripture, even while our approaches, interpretations, and conclusions may differ.

Chris, you express that you “remain convinced that the biblical prohibitions of sexual intimacy between two people of the same gender do apply to our modern construct of same-sex relationships.” You identify three scholars, including James Brownson, from this wider Respectful Conversation, whose biblical interpretations are unconvincing. I wonder what you find unconvincing in alternative biblical interpretations. I also wonder what other scholars, beyond these three, that you have investigated that you find either unconvincing or convincing as you search the scriptures? Have you or would you be open to looking beyond the traditional approaches and interpretations of scripture? Who do you turn to for help with biblical interpretation and why?

Over the long haul my searching and survey of sexuality and scripture has consistently led me in the same direction. In that light I offer three observations:

First, I am no longer able to keep up with the burgeoning wealth of biblical scholars, theologians, and ethicists interpreting these texts either through their writing or in personal conversation. I am grateful for and have greatly enjoyed countless scholarly encounters over the years covering every dimension of this concern that I have identified as pertinent to faithful “human sexuality.”   

Second, overwhelmingly, Mennonite and other scholars that are most formative for me are part of this growing wealth of scholars who find a more inclusive interpretation of scripture and a more nuanced nature of sexuality.

Third, in my first post I shared my conviction that we will not find The Way forward in the Church based on a few select texts held to settle the matter and over which we are and will remain deeply divided. I say this for two reasons. One, is that in over forty years of experience in this conflict in the Mennonite Church, arguments over these select scriptures have not contributed to further revelation, resolution, or reconciliation. Second, I believe the real conflict we face, mostly without acknowledging or addressing it, is deeper than differing interpretations of these select texts; it is in substantially differing (even mutually exclusive) approaches to scripture and interpretive paradigms. These are fundamental hermeneutical questions the church must face and address before we can find our way on the sexuality matters. Differing paradigms of Biblical interpretation may be the primary confession and clarification we have to name and embody before we can cease dividing over “homosexuality” in our churches. Then we may even be able to agree to disagree in love and unity in Christ who has already made us one.   

Tim, I hear you implying something along this line when you rightly conclude, “The debate over same-sex relationships and the Bible is not one about Scripture’s authority, but of Scripture’s interpretation.”

Questions

Many questions may be posed by our conversation and merit asking and deserve further consideration, I want to ask some questions that loom largest for me. I still ask such questions of myself and reflect on my evolving responses over the years.

Let me preface my first question with another agreement I think the three of us share, which is that the church must hold together and honor differing views among members. Significant differences in theology and practice (and politics!) are inevitable in the church. Why is “homosexuality” a church defining and dividing matter when other highly conflicted issues don’t necessarily define or divide us? In the Mennonite Church women in leadership and divorce and remarriage have been contended over the past four decades as has “homosexuality.” Ironically, my ministry has precisely coincided with and engaged these three concerns and changes in the church. Yet we have found a way to navigate the contentious waters of women in leadership and divorce and remarriage in ways that honor the authority of scripture, the faithfulness of the church, and the integrity of pastoral leadership. We have done so with clarity and honesty, recognizing differences without resorting to discipline to keep members in line or out of the church. What are the differences in the differences we have on these matters? What are the limits of difference and on what “issues” that the church can tolerate and still be the church together?

Chris and Tim, I ask these questions not because you have shared something explicit that elicits them but because I see them as implicit on your sharing. Or, to be honest, these are questions that loom large for me over the years of ministry.

Let me ask you more explicit questions. How do you as a pastor hold together the views of those who feel strongly about “exclusion” and “inclusion” of LGBT members? Do you see these as parallel opposing views? In other words how do you encourage members to agree to disagree and still be church together?

My great struggle with these questions is twofold. On the one hand I believe the church must be able to “agree to disagree” on many if not most matters over which there is disagreement. In the Mennonite Church we worked out a method for “agreeing and disagreeing in love.” It has not found a clear consistent place in the church but I believe we have been able to embody it on many important matters without being fully aware of it. Are there limits to how far and on what concerns our disagreements can be embraced and still maintain the unity of the body? On the other hand, my deeper struggle is that our differences often are not parallel disagreements. And they certainly are not parallel harms or hurt. I do not see how the hurt a member may feel who holds the traditional view if LGBT members are included is equivalent to the harm done to an LGBT member who is excluded as a member or from marriage or ministry in the church. It really matters who is being harmed and what violence is being down to whom and with what manner of privilege and power are marshalled to harm another member of the body. 

Chris and Tim, has that been acknowledged or addressed in your churches? If so how do you navigate and negotiate those differences?    

Another cluster of questions comes from an insight that I receive from both of you, Chris and Tim. The insight I receive from you is the care and integrity with which you have given pastoral leadership and created space in your congregations to live with these nuanced differences.

Chris, you have found a kind of middle ground (for lack of a better term) of welcoming LGBT members yet be non-affirming of LGBT relationships. You certainly are consistent in the stance you have defined for your church. But I am wondering if or how your congregation came to that stance and how public it is and what you communicate about it with any new person exploring becoming a member of your church? Does that mean that no persons in a same-sex relationship can be members of your congregation? What would you do if a same-sex couple came to worship? Or asked to explore becoming a member? What would happen if an LGBT member came to you and shared a sense of call to ministry? All these are questions I have faced over the years as a pastor. 

Tim, I am especially intrigued by your stance that seems very close to my own. I am grateful for your opening words: “Rather than treat LGBT Christians as a sexuality to be affirmed or disciplined, churches should walk with LGBT people with curiosity. Churches should ask the same question of an LGBT member it asks of all its members: how is God at work in this person’s life and how can we cooperate with that?….Practically this means allowing for differences of belief and action on both sides……” Yet I could ask the same questions of you that I asked Chris? As a pastor what is your response and responsibility when an LGBT member comes to you to explore marriage or ministry? What is the church’s role and response when that happens?

I don’t ask these questions of either of you judgmentally. I have faced them in this and on other matters. The most frequent way I faced that kind of question was when someone was drawn to Seattle Mennonite Church but had real reservations about pacifism and our peace theology. My approach was always one of welcome, come and worship with us, be in relationship with us as a community of faith and live into your question. Yes, who we are and what we proclaim is deeply grounded in the nonviolent love of Jesus Christ, that is what you will hear and what we strive to live together. I am confident the Spirit will give you clarity in due time – clarity that grows into and shares our commitment to the nonviolent love of Jesus Christ or clarity that you are called to another spiritual home. If it is the later, and you truly do not share this way of Jesus, as your pastor, I will prayerfully help you find the spiritual home where you are called to be. I have helped more than one person find another spiritual home.

Finally, I find it surprising that none of us directly addressed the traditional creation question, where God’s creation of male and female somehow means “homosexuality” is not of creation and is “disordered.” My sense is that arguments over “birth” versus “choice” claims for “LGBT” orientation have diminished as awareness, experience, and scientific evidence grows that indicates considerable biological factors and nuanced diversity in sexual orientation. However, I have spent my pastoral years in congregations where that wasn’t disputed. So I am wondering if or how that is still a matter of contention across our churches? 

There still many questions and matters worthy of conversation but I am already beyond the word limit and my time so I let further conversation for our third post later this month. Again thanks Tim and Chris. I am honored to share this conversation with you.  

The Will to Hear

Flicker cc by Amanda Slater – edited

As I’ve experienced conflict in the community in which I live, I’ve reflected on Stanley Hauerwas’s comment that we need to tell one another the truth—but perhaps even more—we must want to hear truth. I appreciate both of you for speaking truth and I hope I have the will to hear it. We were asked to begin with the ways we agree with one another, so I’ll start with that.

Points of Agreement

Thank you Weldon for retelling your journey at Seattle Mennonite toward becoming welcoming and affirming. My church is currently making its way through the book of Acts, and your telling of God’s work seems like its own set of Holy Spirit inspired “acts.”

This last week we looked at the Jerusalem council’s decision (Acts 15) to set aside the law concerning circumcision for the Gentiles. I think it is telling that when James cites Scripture to back up the decision he says, “‘the words of the prophets agree with this,’ not ‘this agrees with the words of the prophets’” (Gaventa, 218). Seeing God at work, by help of the Sprit, is a key to truthful discernment. Scripture plays a key role in checking what we perceive the Spirit to be doing, but this is not as simple as we are sometimes led to believe.

In Acts 15 James cites a Scriptural passage that is not a simple proof text. It is a remix of Scripture meant to help the community locate itself in the story of God and affirm the work that God is doing. As I noted in my last post, there was good Scriptural support for the idea that Gentiles should be circumcised. The Covenant of Circumcision was an “everlasting” one (Gen 17:1-7) and other passages see Israel blessing the Gentiles as it teaches them the law (Isa 2:3, Mic 4:2)—which would have been understood as requiring circumcision. But James, by using Amos and throwing in snippets of Jeremiah and Isaiah and some words of his own, claims that the prophets foresee the rebuilding of Israel so that “all other peoples may seek the Lord” (Acts 15:17). Interestingly, he uses the Septuagint, rather than the Hebrew version of Amos 9:11-12, because the Hebrew (which suggests that God was rebuilding Israel so that they could grab Gentile territory) would have subverted his point.

Given that this is the way the Bible narrates the faithful use of the Bible, the story you tell of God’s mercy and love being preeminent, and the subsequent personal and congregational discernment of what that looks like in relation to LGBT Christians, is compelling.

I also want to appreciate some of the many truth nuggets you intersperse throughout your essay.

 

  •  “Grace, arising from God’s limitless love, is the central theme of the Bible… Mercy is just grace in action.” (Richard Rohr, Daily Meditation – 1/30/16)
  • “The truth of faith is made good in the living of it or not at all . . .” (McClendon)
  • “I made a covenant with God that I will seek to be present with people in pain without adding to their pain, especially from a place of privilege and power.”
  • “True Christians are absurdly happy, wholly committed, and almost always in trouble.”

 

For those of us who try to tweet truth, this essay is a goldmine. There is so much of what you say that I agree with, especially (since something like this was my opening line) that “church members [should] truly engage with sisters and brothers who are LGBTQ” [italics in the original].

Chris, you also echo this sentiment when you say that you “encourage . . .  parishioners to listen to the stories of LGBT people, especially those who have been raised in the church.” There is much more in your essay to which I say a hearty “Amen!” So many conservative Christians minimize or ignore the pain caused to LGBT people by the church. Thank you for your acknowledgement that “Persecution, while considerably lessened . . . still exists . . . it is also brutally, often murderously present in certain societies.”  

As an Anabaptist, I applaud your determination to teach that there is a Christian vision of marriage that is far more robust that than offered by our society.

I’m also concerned about how LGBT affirmation will affect people’s view of Scripture. What needs to change is the way we understand the nature of Scripture.  The whole LGBT question is an opportunity to move beyond a simplistic, modernist view of Scripture in which the Bible is a divine morality hotline. But I know that some people, as they move towards the affirming side, will be tempted to dismiss Scripture out of hand rather than seize the chance to examine how to best interpret Scripture.

In spite of your assertion that “the implications for how the church engages with the LGBT community are profound” and the subsequent reasons you offer for why this topic is important, I wonder if you believe that this question has become more central than it deserves to be. When you write that “When we look the other way in the cases of heterosexual adultery, divorce, and pornography use while condemning same-sex relationships, we come off as the worst kind of hypocrites,” I couldn’t agree more. What do you make of my main point? This is an important topic, but ultimately a non-essential that has become essential in the minds of many Christians.

Points of Concern and Disagreement

I’ll begin with the points of concern I have about Weldon’s essay.

As you note, “Biblical people search the scriptures to ground and guide all we do.” In light of this, it is important that you explain why you bracket the seven texts that seem to speak most directly to same-sex relationships. Why is the “way of Jesus” not found in those texts? I realize that for those of us who have been in this conversation for decades, it may feel like those verses have been adequately addressed time and time again. But if we are to hear our brothers and sisters concern that “we take Scripture seriously,” then you need to provide a rationale (perhaps just a paragraph or so) as to why you think they can be set aside.

My second concern is that the call for justice not obliterate the calling of the church to be (in Scot McKnight’s phrase) a fellowship of differents. Given my own difficult history of growing up in the conservative church, I’m sympathetic with the drive to provide a “safe,” affirming place for LGBT Christians. But I don’t think “safe” means “comfortable.” Safe means something like, “A place where we are all allowed to speak the truth as we see it, and we can all try to hear it, because we know ourselves to be—above all—beloved by God. Safe means a place where truth is spoken and welcomed.”

It is hard to say all that needs to be said at once. I care deeply about justice and passionately wish that the church did better in its advocacy for all kinds of people: immigrants, racial minorities, prisoners, the sick, the poor, and LGBT people. The fact that the church doesn’t do more for the marginalized is symptomatic of a disastrous unfaithfulness that is repugnant to God, guts our witness to the world, and desecrates our own humanity.

But there is also a danger in being “right” about justice issues. Just as conservative Christians can feel self-righteous about their stance on “sexual holiness,” so too, liberal Christians can feel self-righteous about getting the LGBT question “right.” And this religious game—of claiming to know right from wrong and thus feeling superior to others—is its own disastrous dead end. Such self-righteousness is odious to God, divides the church, and distorts our souls.

I say this after experiencing years of conflict in my church. We’ve worked hard at reconciliation and we’ve come to a place of appreciating each other across differences. Although I may disagree with others on many topics, I’ve come to believe that I need their perspective. I’ve come to see the profound wisdom of philosopher David Hume’s observation that “Truth springs from an argument among friends.”

This may feel like a frustrating critique. It sounds like you have hung in with the Mennonite church in spite of what must have been a strong temptation (at times) to leave it behind. Perhaps I’m just asking you to elaborate on your vision for persevering with non-affirming Christians.

Chris, I’d like to engage your argument that, in taking a welcoming but not affirming stance, you are standing in solidarity with the Global South. This argument is sometimes made with the implications that a) while LGBT people have been historically marginalized, the Bible is more clear about God’s preference for the poor and thus siding with the majority world is more Biblical, b) the poor are close to the heart of God and therefore have special insight into this matter, and c) the Global South’s strong opposition to LGBT affirmation reveals that this issue is one of bourgeois affluenza and can therefore be dismissed.

I feel like I could write a book just on this topic, but here are three short responses:

a)     There are confounding cultural factors on both sides, that make this a fraught issue. My Old Testament professor Ellen Davis tells the story of teaching a seminary class in South Sudan. The topic of homosexuality came up and her students expressed their inability to understand permissive Western attitudes toward same-sex relationships. She then asked them, “How many of you think polygamous marriage is acceptable?” About half the hands went up. She responded, “Westerners find that incomprehensible.”

Having lived in Uganda as a kid (and having visited as an adult), I became sympathetic towards some of the arguments for having more than one wife. The cultural context is so different, that in certain situations, it seems like the most humane thing to do. I believe that if those in the Global South understood the way we construct same-sex relationships, and the intense loneliness of people in our fragmented society, that they would be more sympathetic toward same-sex relationships.

b)     LGBT people within traditional cultures are sometimes the most marginalized. When I was working on the AIDS ward at San Francisco General as a nurse, I once had a patient who didn’t speak. He was Latino with a wife who was HIV+ and he had kids. The doctors couldn’t figure why he couldn’t speak, so they called for a neuropsychology consult. The consulting doctors reported that there was nothing physiologically wrong with the man: he was so profoundly depressed that he simply couldn’t talk.

While I don’t know for sure, I suspect he was on the “down low”—having sex with guys—and that he gave the HIV virus to his wife. In a macho culture, he felt himself to be the lowest of the low. If our concern is for the poor, how can it include people like him? It would be easy to say that “he made evil choices.” But, if he already thought himself to be scum (given his culture’s opinion of homosexuals) I can understand his compulsion to seek acceptance and love through sex with guys.

c)     The Global South seems posed to repeat some of the destructive church divisions that have taken place in the West. Although in places like Uganda public opinion is solidly against LGBT affirmation, there is a growing group of LGBT advocates and an increasingly visible population of sexual minorities. Eventually the church, in places like Uganda, will have to face the same questions we’ve faced.  

And so the important question is, “can we find a way to live together in peace on this, or is division inevitable?” If we can find a “third way” then I think we will have done the hard work that might serve our brothers and sisters from the Global South. And if not, then I suspect that like us, they will experience the same damnable rupture of unity and love.   

Chris, the second point that I’ll respond to is your contention that “Changing our understanding of marriage and sexuality, however, touches on core understandings of creation, the fall, redemption, and even the doctrine of God.” To adequately respond would probably require a couple of books. I’ll make a couple, inadequate comments.

While I know you don’t believe the Acts account of Gentile inclusion is analogous to the question of LGBT inclusion, there are some compelling points of similarity. If anything, ever, in the history of theological teaching, was grounded in creation it was Sabbath. Sabbath-keeping is embedded in the ten commandments and Israel’s law. Yet passages like Romans 14 and Galatians 4 seem to put Sabbath-keeping aside in order to include the Gentiles. If such a foundational understanding of creation was put aside to include us, shouldn’t we hesitate a little at insisting that LGBT people need to follow a heterosexual norm because it is grounded in creation?

Just because something doesn’t follow God’s design, it doesn’t automatically mean it is a sin. If someone is born colorblind, we don’t say, “Well, since you can’t do it as God designed, you probably shouldn’t try to see at all.” So too with a same-sex orientation, I think it is possible to say, “Well, it is not God’s ideal, but love sexually as you can, and enter into the beautiful Christian story of faithful covenant keeping.” With this perspective I think we can still affirm “core understandings of creation, the fall, redemption, and even the doctrine of God” without condemning LGBT Christians who chose to commit to someone of the same sex, with a steadfast and costly love.  

Conclusion

Weldon, I appreciated how you bathed your entire narrative in God’s mercy and grace. I’m reminded of gay Christian W.H. Auden’s assertion that “I know nothing, except what everyone knows—if there when Grace dances, I should dance.” It seems to me that you accepted the invitation.   

Chris, I know a little of how difficult this topic has been in the Anglican communion. Given the exhaustion that tends to accompany that experience, I’m pleasantly surprised that you are willing to participate in this conversation. Thank you for the vulnerability in sharing your story, and your willingness in hope that further dialogue might yield goodness. That too seems to me grace-full.

I respect you both already, and this exchange has only served to deepen my appreciation for you. As we enter into lent, may we offer up our little attempts at searching for truth in the hope that God will make them live.

Ash Wednesday, 2016

 

Living in the already / not yet of God’s kingdom

First, let me say that it is an honor to participate in this conversation. I very much appreciated both Tim’s and Weldon’s posts, and, in what follows, I hope not only to embrace them as my brothers in Christ, but also to engage their posts with understanding and respect.

I found myself agreeing with Tim and Weldon on many things. I resonated deeply with Tim’s observation that LGBT Christians are not “sexualities to be affirmed or disciplined”, but rather “people” with whom to walk, as well as Weldon’s exhortation to “engage with” rather than “talking and deciding about” our LGBT brothers and sisters. 

I’m also in agreement with my brothers that the church, both individual Christians and corporate church bodies, has caused deep pain to LGBT people, both inside and outside of the church, which has caused, to use Weldon’s words, “the Church great harm and loss of the gifts of members and the wholeness of the body of Christ.” Tim’s witness of growing up “loathing” himself because well-meaning Christians hadn’t listened, studied, and prayed enough to distinguish between orientation and behavior is Exhibit A in why this discussion is so important.

I also appreciated Tim’s observations on the importance of recognizing the culturally conditioned nature of our emotions, whether disgust or joy, and that, biblically, “our feelings can deceive us.” Weldon similarly affirms the importance of experience in apply the truth of scripture to a given context, noting that “’experience’ alone does not constitute the Church’s faithful profession or practice,” but that “’experience’ is essential to being church.”

I found Tim’s explanation and analysis of “FIRE” incredibly helpful in understanding why an issue like LGBT inclusion becomes so, well, “hot”, and also why the costly realities of Christian discipleship seem so counter-cultural today. In contemporary America, it is likely that, when Christians “play with FIRE”, so to speak, we get “in trouble”, as Weldon rightly observes is so often the consequence of following Jesus faithfully.  

 It is in the context of our common commitment to Jesus and His church, then, that we disagree about several things.

Primarily, we disagree about how scripture applies to this current discussion. I believe that Tim’s observation, “The debate over same-sex relationships and the Bible is not one about Scripture’s authority, but of Scripture’s interpretation” is, in the context of our discussion, true. However, not all all interpretations of scripture are equally valid. I agree with Tim that scripture is, primarily, “storied”, rather than legal. However, the “mystery novel” analogy only works up to a point. For example, a first-time reader of scripture might be shocked by Jesus’ teaching about the Sabbath and the Spirit’s work incorporating Gentiles into God’s people “apart from the Law.” However, as modern readers, we know how the canonical story ends, and, as a result, also catch a glimpse of how the cosmic story ends. 

NT Wright has a great image of Christian ethics as “improvising” a lost fourth act of a Shakespeare play, knowing Acts I-III, and also Act V, the final act. So, our living within the story with integrity requires knowing the beginning, initial development, and climactic moment, in addition to the ultimate end. In this light, the question becomes, “Does affirming a sexual relationship between two individuals of the same gender ‘work’ within the narrative?” Wright also makes the “ethics as improvisation” analogy to jazz music. In order to improvise well, we must know the piece, and respect the boundaries of the piece, especially the key and timing, if our improvisation is going to resonate. 

As I said in my first post, the creation narrative, Jesus’ affirmation of the creation narrative, Paul’s echoes of the creation narrative in Romans 1, and, finally, the hope of the ultimate renewal of creation (or, to use another NT Wright-ism, “putting the world to rights”), convinces me that God’s intention for sexual intimacy is within a covenantal relationship between a man and a woman. Weldon rightly points out that marriage in scripture is problematic due to, as he writes, “polygamy, patriarchy, and property”. However, this is a far cry from the radical equality envisioned in Genesis 1-2, and, post-Resurrection, Ascension, and Pentecost, a far cry from Paul commanding husbands to love their wives, “as Christ loved the church” (Ephesians 5:25). In other words, God’s creative intention is clear in Genesis 1-2, but the Fall puts everything out of whack, and then Jesus’ life, death, resurrection, and ascension begins to put things back together. The redemptive arc on marriage is clear—a 1st century Roman or Jewish husband called to love his wife as Christ loved the church simply cannot revert to the “polygamy, patriarchy, and property” paradigm, but is rather thrust forward to the new creation, which finds it roots in Eden.

Moving toward the new creation, however, puts us in what biblical theologians often call the “already / not yet” phase of God’s kingdom coming “on earth as in heaven”. In other words, the damaging effects of the Fall are still very much with us. In the Fall, humankind as a whole, but also each individual human, was broken, but each one of is broken uniquely. Richard Mouw, the former President of Fuller Seminary, once used the image of a server at a restaurant walking with a platter of empty glasses. If the server trips, all the glasses will break, but each glass will be broken uniquely. So it is with our sexuality—each of us, because of original sin, our own sinful choices, or so often the sins of others, are broken. And, because (as Weldon rightly observes) our sexuality is not simply peripheral to our identities as human beings, experiencing salvation will no doubt include the redemption of our sexuality. However, in the “already / not yet” of Act IV, how this looks will be different for each of us. Some will, inevitably, experience a good measure of God’s intention for sexual intimacy, while others—gay and straight alike—will be, to use Paul’s words (adopted by Richard Hays in a now-classic essay on this subject), “awaiting the redemption of our bodies”. This is, no doubt, a “difficult curriculum” (in Tim’s poignant words), which the church, collectively, must acknowledge and support pastorally. Tears, grief, and stumbling are simply part of the road toward the new creation. To pretend otherwise is to be disconnected from the reality of the biblical story. 

There were a couple of key questions that, in my mind, Tim and Weldon may have avoided or not addressed adequately. First, I find Tim’s paradigm of a “Third Way” church intriguing. However, it seems to me that, at the very least, the pastor of such a church would need be able to support same-sex relationships, as pastors are involved in marriage preparation, marriage counseling, and other pastoral initiatives to strengthen and support marriages. If the pastor felt uncomfortable with a gay couple getting married, it would be nearly impossible for him or her to minister effectively. 

Using the Romans 14-15 analogy, it was necessary for Paul to affirm individual choices around whether or not they observed certain Jewish customs regarding Sabbath observance and dietary restrictions. Paul’s main concern was that all Christians understood that “righteousness” comes through Jesus to Jew and Gentile alike. So, while honoring Jewish heritage, or even the devotional possibility of Jewish identity markers, can be helpful, it must never obscure the radical nature of the gospel. Can this be directly applied to “disputes” over the place of sexual relationships between two people of the same gender?

In some ways, Anglicans are attempting a Third Way approach to the issue of women’s ordination. Some Anglicans are opposed, others are supportive. Among those opposed, some believe that female clergy undermine the authority of scripture, while others, having looked at the biblical arguments, have concluded that a pro-women’s ordination interpretation is possible, but simply not embraced it. On the other hand, some who support women’s ordination believe it is an issue of justice, and that to oppose women’s ordination is to oppose God’s redemptive activity. Others, however, having looked at the biblical arguments, concede that those opposed to women’s ordination have valid biblical arguments, but find the arguments in favor of women’s ordination to be quite compelling. What we’ve found is that a Third Way approach is very difficult. The pastoral challenges are immense, and I often wonder if the Third Way is sustainable on this issue. However, because I do believe that valid arguments both for and against women’s ordination exist, and that, within the New Testament, there is tension between permission and prohibition of women in leadership, I feel compelled to try. The difference, however, between women’s ordination and permitting same-sex relationships, is that the biblical argument in favor of the latter is, I believe, exceedingly thin and largely unembraced.

 Tim also observes that “the criteria for Christian division ought to be very high,” then goes on to look at whether or not “heresy” should apply to this discussion. I totally agree that anyone who affirms Nicene orthodoxy ought not be labelled a heretic, and, to the extent that an affirming Christian can honestly affirm the creed in its plain sense, he or she is not, technically, a heretic. However, Paul chided the Corinthians for allowing a man to have a sexual relationship with his step-mother (1 Corinthians 5:1-5), going so far as demanding that he be expelled from the community. In this case, it wasn’t a doctrinal issue, but a specific sexual relationship that, according to Paul, was not only destroying the integrity of the community, but also its witness to the world. So, while it may not be proper for a non-affirming Christian to declare affirming Christians as heretics, it is instructive that, for Paul, the proper ordering of sexual relationships within the church was important enough to expel a brother from fellowship. 

Finally, Weldon asserts that, “The Way of Jesus is not found in seven texts that presumably speak to and settle the ‘homosexuality’ division in the Church.” I think that I agree with him, but I’d love to hear his thoughts on how, exactly, the texts in question speak to Christian discipleship, and, also, how Jesus’ radical call of self-denial, along with his call to rest, might be lived out by individuals and communities struggling with how best to engage with LGBT individuals. I’d also be interested in hearing more about the powerful passage he references from Acts 10 in which Peter saw the sheet: “What God has made clean, you must not call profane” (Acts 10:15). God was making Gentiles clean, yes, and the leaders in Jerusalem were led by the Spirit to relieve them from the demands of the Law. However, they were still to abstain from sexual immorality. Is it possible to announce that God accepts LGBT people, and that heterosexual Christians might relieve them of the need to become heterosexuals, all the while asking them, just as we ask heterosexuals, to abstain from sexual relationships outside of marriage defined as a lifelong covenant between a man and a woman?

Having stated the disagreements above, I must say that I have a great deal of respect for both Tim and Weldon, and, in their stories, I see each of them longing to be faithful to Jesus. Tim not only advocates for a Third Way, he embodies a Third Way. Tim’s story allows him to understand how both conservative Christians and LGBT people feel (his comments on “disgust” and “joy” were unusually insightful because of this, I believe), and his nurture in the Anabaptist peacemaking tradition has equipped him to interpret one world to the other with a deep desire for reconciliation. 

Weldon, also operating within the Anabaptist tradition, understands that following Jesus often leads to trouble with religious leaders. The pacifist convictions of Mennonites seem to shape his commitment to “be present with people in pain without adding to their pain,” which does seem to capture Jesus’ words that he is “gentle, and humble of heart” (Matthew 11:29). The church is desperate for more gentle, humble pastors.  

Finally, in writing, reading, and reflecting, I was surprised by the importance of ecclesiology to this discussion. For me, I noticed two features of Anglicanism recurring in my mind: first, our legacy as an established church in England, and, second, the importance of the Book of Common Prayer. Unlike the Anabaptist tradition from which both Tim and Weldon write, the Church of England has been, and continues to be, rooted in an understanding of Christendom in which church and state are very much intertwined. So, legal marriage and Christian marriage have been thought to be virtually identical. When the definition of legal marriage changes, there are consequences for the understanding of Christian marriage as well. While Anabaptists trace their history to, as Weldon notes, “a heretical violation of Church rules and tradition,” The Church of England participated in making “the rules”. In the US, Anglicans, while certainly not officially established, have played an outsized influence in the development of the status quo (over 25% of American Presidents have been Episcopalians). Rightly or wrongly, then, my tradition has been enmeshed in the societal status quo, which causes a different kind of discussion on marriage. It has taken us much longer to arrive at the position of making a stark differentiation between “civil marriage” and, as mentioned in my first post, the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony. This has certainly impacted how we’ve reasoned theologically, and practiced pastorally, on the cluster of issues surrounding engaging LGBT individuals.

Concerning the Book of Common Prayer, liturgy and worship has always been the means by which Anglican theology has been expressed. The Book of Common Prayer (BCP), first in 1549, then 1552, 1557, and, finally, after the Restoration of the English Monarchy, in 1662, has articulated the theology of Anglican churches. Thus, changing liturgy often reflects changes in theology. For example, in the 1979 revision of the American BCP, the “he” throughout the ordination liturgy for presbyters and bishops was italicized, communicating that “she” was now an option. The theology of ordination changed, and, ultimately, that change was reflected liturgically. The marriage service is no different. In the 1662 BCP, the woman promised to “obey and serve” her husband, while the husband promised to “love and honor” his wife. In the 1979 BCP, husband and wife make identical promises to “love, comfort, honor and keep” one another. The theology of marriage had—consistent with the redemptive arc of scripture—developed into a more egalitarian relationship, and, like ordination, that change was reflected liturgically. 

That is why the formal approval of changing the marriage liturgy to be, essentially, “gender-neutral”, has caused such an upset. Our theology, as Anglicans, is carried through our liturgy, and removing the assumption that, for a marriage to take place, a male and a female are required, constitutes a radical departure from our understanding, again, of what it means to be made “male and female” in the image of God. 

Also, in the above mentioned ordination liturgy, the Presiding Bishop exhorts the new bishop that he or she be “a wholesome example for the entire flock of Christ.” In affirming a partnered gay man as a bishop, the church, in effect, saying that his life was just such an example. That is why the ordination of Gene Robinson was a crisis point for Anglicans. Again, our theology is carried in and through our liturgy.

In conclusion, and in that vein, I’ll observe that today is Ash Wednesday. I’ll be leading my congregation into the season of Lent, which, according to the BCP, is a season of “self-examination and repentance,” of “fasting, prayer, and self-denial.” In the Litany of Penitence, we entreat the Lord, saying, “Accept our repentance, Lord, for the wrongs we have done:
for our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty,” and “For all false judgments, for uncharitable thoughts toward our neighbors, and for our prejudice and contempt toward those who differ from us.” 

As I pray, I include my own blindness and indifference to LGBT people, the uncharitable thoughts, prejudice, and even contempt for LGBT people and their allies that I, and my brothers and sisters in Christ, have shown. My deepest hope is that, as we stumble toward the new creation, all the while awaiting the redemption of our bodies, we might, together, hear the voice of Jesus, which says both, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24), and, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30). 

What God sets before us: being a welcoming and affirming Church

Pastoral Preface

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy (Hymn text: Frederick W. Faber, 1854)
Verse 1:
    There’s a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea.
    There’s a kindness in God’s justice, which is more than liberty.

Grace, arising from God’s limitless love, is the central theme of the Bible…
Mercy is just grace in action.
Richard Rohr, Daily Meditation (1/30/16)

It is humbling and an honor to engage in Respectful Conversation with you. Our leading question for this season of the eCircle conversation invites us to share recommendations for how churches engage with LGBTQ members. I begin with some prefatory offerings that lead into my contribution to this conversation.

First, my encouragement is for Church members to truly engage with sisters and brothers who are LGBTQ. At least in the Mennonite Church, the struggle has often been “heterosexuals” talking and deciding about “homosexuals” rather than engaging sisters and brothers who are LGBTQ.  Great pain has been suffered by being othered rather than engaged. To engage the other begins with deep listening, particularly for those with privilege and power. Failure to listen to and engage those we label “homosexual” has also caused the Church great harm and loss of the gifts of members and the wholeness of the body of Christ.

Second, my offering is not so much “recommending” as giving witness. A form of spiritual memoir known as “biography as theology” recognizes that we “do theology” through lives lived in a worshiping community of faithful discernment and prophetic witness. In Biography as Theology: How Life Stories Can Remake Today’s Theology, theologian James Wm. McClendon, Jr., reveals “The truth of faith is made good in the living of it or not at all…. Theology is done not only from a perspective but to and for a community.” This is far more foundational and formative than relying on one’s own “experience” as the determiner of all things or the ultimate reality. One’s “experience” alone does not constitute the Church’s faithful profession or practice. Nevertheless, “experience” is essential for being Church.

Third, while I understand the question set before us, I don’t consider my pastoral approach to be a “position” called “welcoming and affirming.” It is a calling I have lived and grown into over four decades of ministry. I have found that being faithful to our calling is to live a trajectory of continuity and change, forged in its share of confrontation and conflict. Along The Way, God surprises and changes us in ways that lead us a step beyond where we are or want to go. Yet God’s surprises are consistent with the trajectory of our lives and life together. The Way of continuity and change leads us into the wonder of paradox (the impossible that God makes possible) and the beauty of mystery (endlessly knowable yet never fully knowable God). In the Church, all are welcome in paradox and mystery!

Fourth, I am aware that the three “positions” proclaimed by Chris, Tim, and me, do not embrace all “positions” in the Church. Some beloved sisters and brothers in the Church wouldn’t readily engage this Respectful Conversation much less engage with LGBTQ members.

With that in heart and mind, I offer my journey of faith and leadership in the Church to you worthy companions in Respectful Conversation. I trust this reveals The Way for churches to engage and embrace LGBTQ members.

Come and See Jesus

Verse 2:
There is welcome for the sinner, and more graces for the good.
There is mercy with the Savior, there is healing in his blood.

John…watched Jesus walk by [and] exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” Two disciples heard…and followed Jesus…[who asked them], “What are you looking for?” They [asked him], “Teacher, where are you staying?” Jesus said to them, “Come and see!” (John 1: 35-39, NRSV)

“Jesus’ resurrection is not a one-time anomaly, but the regular and universal structure of reality revealed in one person,” Richard Rohr, Daily Med. 1/18/16

Seeing Jesus as the Risen Christ in Emmaus is a gospel paradigm. Two disheartened disciples, haunted with despair over Jesus’ crucifixion, walk away from Jerusalem and encounter a stranger on the road. The stranger reveals the gospel to them but they fail to see Jesus. Yet they offer hospitality to the stranger, who offers hospitality to them in blessed and broken bread. “Then their eyes were opened” to see the Risen Christ (Luke 24:31). Jesus opens the eyes of our heart to see the other in himself and himself in the other, especially the ostracized other

I have been blessed to see Jesus in many surprising people and places:
* In a Muslim doctor in Iraq on March 29, 2003, who saved our lives and refused payment when I and other Christian Peacemaker Team members were injured even though our nation was invading theirs with “shock and awe” bombing. [The Gospel of Rutba: War, Peace, and the Good Samaritan Story in Iraq by Greg Barrett (Orbis Books, 2012) and my story, “Neighbors in Iraq” in The Mennonite (May 2010, pages 20-22. https://themennonite.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/05-01-2010-Cookies-for-Nicholas.pdf)]
* In a homeless friend, who waited to eat at our community meals until all our homeless friends had food, saying, “I am fed by seeing others eat.”
* In young church members who attend Christian colleges and choose a path of service, peace, and ministry rather than attend more prestigious schools in order to get the best jobs and make the most money.
* In sisters and brothers who are LGBTQ being passionate and compassionate disciples of Jesus, committed to a Church that ostracizes them, serving faithfully in congregational leadership roles within a denomination that rejects them for their sexual identity.

Pastoral Call and Commitment in Congregational Context

Verse 3:
But we make God’s love too narrow by false limits of our own,
and we magnify its strictness with a zeal God will not own.

“Tradition is the living faith of the dead. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.” Richard Rohr, OFM (and Jaroslav Pelikan). 

When I was called to be pastor of Seattle Mennonite Church over two decades ago, I shared with the congregation my pastoral commitment to refrain from making “homosexuality” be the defining, consuming, or dividing issue of the Church. I also shared my sense that this congregation would not exist without being in some way inclusive of LGBTQ members. We will listen to what God sets before us and trust God to lead us faithfully as a church. Along the way we will search the scriptures and explore how to be faithful spiritual-sexual beings by being spiritually discerning and communally compassionate. We will remain committed to our beloved Mennonite Church, knowing that the majority of Mennonites will continue to reject The Way we are being led.  

Along The Way I faced one of my deepest pastoral discernments. Two women in a committed relationship in the congregation, came to me as their pastor expressing their desire to be married. I told them that what they are seeking is both possible and impossible. It is possible just like all other couples entering a covenant of marriage. It is impossible in light of an official, albeit highly controversial and conflicted, opposition to “gay marriage” in the Mennonite Church and prohibition against pastors officiating same-sex marriages. I assured them that we would walk this impossible journey together knowing that “nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37).

This became the most intense and extensive discernment of my pastoral life. My discerning community included many congregational, conference, and denominational leaders as well as my spiritual director and other spiritual companions. With each one, I welcomed their honest response, reminding them that I was not asking for their agreement or approval. I held full responsibility and accountability for my pastoral action.     

I continued pre-marriage preparation with the two women by prayerfully listening to each other and to the Spirit, knowing there were complicated and conflicted implications far beyond their marriage at stake. It was both similar to and different from any “heterosexual” couple’s preparation for marriage. The wedding of the two women was celebrated in a friend’s backyard and was not a Church sanctioned wedding. Nor did we have a congregational process to decide if they could be married. Congregational discernment and blessing for marriage may have merit — if it applies to all marriages in the Church.

As expected, I entered into a disciplinary process with Mennonite Conference leaders responsible for ministerial credentials and pastoral practice. My ministerial credentials were “suspended” for a time before being restored with the plea to “not do it again.” I reiterated my commitment to mutual accountability within the Mennonite Church and reaffirmed that if I could promise to “not do it again” I wouldn’t have performed this pastoral act. I also reminded leaders that if we couldn’t in good faith and conscience diverge from Church rules and tradition we wouldn’t exist. Our Anabaptist Mennonite stream of the Reformation was a heretical violation of Church rules and tradition yet was birthed in the sacrificial struggle for personal, pastoral, and communal faithfulness.

My commitment is to Christ and the Body of Christ in the context of the congregation and the Mennonite Church. It is a commitment I am not willing to violate even when it is deemed to violate a Church tradition.  

My pastoral act unexpectedly inspired Mennonite publisher-writer-pastor Michael King to edit a DreamSeeker Magazine issue (Winter 2006) with differing voices on “homosexuality.” He enlarged the conversation to include 32 Mennonite voices into a book: Stumbling Toward a Genuine Conversation on Homosexuality (Cascadia Publishing, 2007; http://www.cascadiapublishinghouse.com/stg/stgcont.htm). My “Stumbling” story is: “To Guide Our Feet: Pastoral Action in Impossible Times.” http://www.cascadiapublishinghouse.com/dsm/winter06/nislwe.htm.  

Pastoral Presence in the Mennonite Church

Verse 4:
For the love of God is broader than the measures of the mind,
and the heart of the Eternal is most wonderfully kind.

God “punishes” us by loving us more! Only a personal experience of [God’s] unconditional, unearned, and infinite love and forgiveness can move you from the normal worldview of scarcity to the divine world of infinite abundance. Richard Rohr, Daily Meditation (1/30/16)

Early in ministry one of my closest pastoral friends “came out” to me as gay. Over the years we spent long hours in conversation about being married, being a pastor, and being gay in the Mennonite Church when it wasn’t safe to “come out” in the Church. Through our friendship and with others in the Church, I learned much about sexuality, including “homosexuality.” I listened to and walked with many people in pain – pain often inflicted by sisters and brothers in the Church. I made a covenant with God that I will seek to be present with people in pain without adding to their pain, especially from a place of privilege and power.

In the 1970s sexuality emerged in the consciousness and conversation of Mennonites in North America. This emergence erupted as a conflict over “homosexuality” as it became evident that some members of the church are “gay.” Consultations were held on human sexuality but the conversation was mostly about “homosexuality” being against God’s created order and sin.

In the 1980s a Mennonite task force prepared an excellent resource for the Church on Human Sexuality in the Christian Life (Faith and Life Press, 1985;  https://mennoharmony.files.wordpress.com/2011/01/human-sexuality-in-the-christian-life-1985.pdf). It addressed “homosexuality” within the context of sexuality and the Church with intent to foster more healthy and honest exploration of sexuality and compassionate conversation in the Church.

In 2007, some Mennonite pastors met on a prayer retreat to discern a pastoral way forward in the Church. We listened to what God set before us — which became an “Open Letter to Mennonite Church USA” proclaiming:
Our vocation as ministers is to proclaim and embody the Good News of Jesus Christ, which is the Gospel of radical hospitality and extravagant love (Luke 15, John 4). We are all sinners in need of God’s grace. We believe that we cannot deny that grace to anyone seeking to be part of the Body of Christ. We are each called to faithfulness to Christ, accountability in the Church, and integrity in human relationships. We believe that all people are invited to faithful fellowship in this Body, blessing for our deepest relationships of love and care, a spiritual home for ourselves and our children, and the opportunity to fully express the gifts for ministry that God has given us. (http://openlettertomcusa.blogspot.com/2009/04/open-letter-to-mennonite-church-usa.html). This letter claimed pastoral space in the Mennonite Church that inspired many and continues to grow beyond our imagination or doing.

Congregational Discernment for “Welcoming and Affirming”

Verse 5:
If our love were but more simple we should rest upon God’s word,
and our lives would be illumined by the presence of the Lord.

“We are not human beings trying to become spiritual; we are already spiritual beings trying to become human.” Richard Rohr (and Teilhard de Chardin) 

The call to be a “Welcoming and Affirming” Church came from congregational members. We entered a season of discernment and listening to our own hearts and to our communal heart. Members were invited to write what was on their heart and what they hear God setting before us. Our heart-stories were compiled into a booklet for all members to read prayerfully and listen deeply. Our long intense, sometimes conflicted and painful discernment led us to being a “Welcoming and Affirming” Church, with a “Welcome Statement” including: (http://www.seattlemennonite.org/about/welcome-statement/):
As disciples of Jesus….In our journey together as a community of believers, we have named several areas of giftedness and calling…charisms are gifts that God has given us for the ministries that God has set before us:
      Welcome and Hospitality: We desire that all who enter here may be received as Christ. We celebrate and affirm the image of God in persons of every age, gender, race, ability, ethnicity, and sexual
      orientation….We publicly affirm that LGBT persons are welcome to participate in the full life and ministry of our church, including membership, baptism, marriage, leadership, and pastoral ministry.

God of Mercy Church of Mercy 

Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not loose heart….We commend ourselves to the consciences of everyone in the sight of God….For we do not proclaim ourselves, we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake… 2 Cor. 4:1-5. 

Mercy is the heart of God. It must also be the heart of [God’s] children. Pope Francis

I leave you with seven calls for mercy that have grounded my life and guided my ministry and will help churches embody mercy to engage with LGBTQ members and become places of healing and hope. 

Scripture – The Way of Jesus is not found in seven texts that presumably speak to and settle the “homosexuality” division in the Church. Biblical people search the scriptures to ground and guide us in all that we are and do. Jesus didn’t answer every question or make it easy for disciples but gave us all we need for a living faith and faithful living. The work is ours to do in our time and place. Peter’s vision was transformed to see that God’s impartiality and Christ’s peace welcomes all into God’s reign. “What God has called clean you must not call profane.” No story in the Acts of the Apostles is told and retold in such detail (10 & 11) emphasizing its import for Peter’s community and ours.  

Sexuality and spirituality — The Church’s obsession with “homosexuality” has subverted faithful exploration of the fullness and beauty of what it means to be wholly/holy spiritual-sexual beings created in God’s image. Sexuality is not the antithesis of but deeply interwoven with spirituality. Sexual identity is complex and diverse with nuanced identities across a spectrum. We are created by God and are children of God – which takes us into the deep intersection and integration of our spiritual-sexual being.

Marriage is more complex and problematic in the Bible and the Church than we acknowledge. Polygamy, patriarchy, and property have a troubling marriage history. Passionate mutual love is a more recent phenomenon of marriage. 

Divorce and remarriage also has a conflicted history in the Church. The Mennonite Church has found a way to hold members who are divorced with compassion while upholding our confessional commitment to life-long marriage. I have accompanied many couples who have made a marriage covenant with God and each other. About half of these marriage partners had been previously married. Yet we have found a faithful way to uphold life-long marriage while caring for divorced members and blessing remarriages in the Church. This path of exceptional healing and healing exception, is manifested in remarriages that are healthy and happy. They also become faithful members and leaders in the Church.

Pastoral Way Forward – The conflict over “homosexuality” has been led by Church leaders (institution) and LGBTQ activists and allies (marginalized). A pastoral way forward faithfully leads the local Church, while being committed to the larger Church.

Models and Mentors for Ministry – When I was in seminary a Mennonite anthropologist theologian from an evangelical seminary presented a “bounded set” and “centered set” model. A “bounded set” entity emphasizes boundaries and rules (violations bring discipline or dismissal). A “centered set” entity emphasizes direction (centering) and discernment (context) in a dynamic way. I and most members grew up in a “bounded set” Church they couldn’t live with and have found new life and faith in a “centered set” Church. Mentors have been formative spiritual guides for me who help me be grounded in obedience not rebellion.  

Resistance and the Gospel – Years ago, a guest preacher challenged me in his sermon, “Are they throwing rocks at your house yet? If they aren’t throwing rocks at your house you aren’t proclaiming the gospel!” Resistance to The Way and Word of Jesus is not just reaction of Jesus’ first hearers but of hearers today. Nevertheless, living the gospel embodies faithful resistance to injustice and sin.

Personal Afterword

I close with a biblical word and a word of wisdom I strive to live by:
      True Christians are absurdly happy, wholly committed,
            and almost always in trouble.

When I retired from pastoral ministry, my beloved Church gave me a beautiful quilted wall hanging with a Word from the prophet Micah:
    What does God require of you but to do justice,
          and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.
(6:8)

AMEN!

 

Welcoming But Not Affirming

I’ve been asked, as a pastor, to share how churches ought to engage with LGBT individuals, and why. It’s a daunting but important question as we seek to embody the gospel faithfully in our particular cultural context. Among the options currently out there—welcoming but not affirming, welcoming and affirming, and simply “accepting,” viewing the issue as something of a “disputed matter”—my own position is likely a variation on the theme of welcoming but not affirming. What does that mean? The proverbial (and, frankly, often literal) devil is, as is so often the case, in the details. 

 How have I arrived at this position, and how do I define it? As I read the gospels, I’m struck that Jesus seemed to delight in pursuing, loving, and restoring the outcast, the marginalized, and the excluded. Historically, LGBT individuals have experienced horrible persecution from Christians, even, and perhaps especially, from Christian leaders. This persecution, while considerably lessened recently in many sectors of contemporary American society, still exists, though often much more subtly, in enclaves of conservative American Christianity. It is also brutally, often murderously, present in certain societies throughout the world—many of which, disturbingly, are largely “Christian.” So, LGBT individuals who experience profound rejection, and even violence, at the hands of religious leaders are the kinds of people Jesus was keenly interested in pursuing. Whether the woman at the well with her five husbands plus the one who wasn’t, the woman caught in adultery whose accusers slowly slipped aside, or Zacchaeus, who dishonestly accumulated vast amounts of wealth (that’s a sin, right?), Jesus’ radical welcome saw past their behavior, looked at their hearts, and loved them. So this practice of not only welcoming but actively pursuing those broken-hearted, beat-up, and vulnerable divine-image bearers for whom Christ was pleased to die seems thoroughly biblical, and the implications for how the church engages with the LGBT community are profound. 

 However, despite the efforts of scholars like Robin Scroggs, Lewis Countryman, and, more recently, James Brownson, I remain convinced that the biblical prohibitions of sexual intimacy between two people of the same gender do, in fact, apply to our modern construct of same-sex relationships. Romans 1, which indicts same-sex sexual relationships between both men and women, seems to echo the creation narrative of Genesis 1-2. In 1 Corinthians 6:9, Paul seems to draw on the prohibition of men “lying with men as with a woman” in Leviticus 18:22 in saying that “sodomites” (that’s how it’s rendered in the NRSV, but it is a hard word to translate: RSV has “sexual perverts,” ESV has “men who practice homosexuality,” and NIV has “men who have sex with men”) shall not inherit the kingdom of God. I also find the use of Acts 15 to support the affirming position a stretch, as, while the apostles were careful not to place unnecessary burdens on the new Gentile converts, thus accepting them fully as Gentiles, they insisted that the Gentile Christians abstain from sexual immorality. So, while the entirety of the Jewish Law was not required for Gentile converts, the sexual morality of the Jewish Law was, and that included prohibitions of sexual intimacy between two men, or two women.

 Theologically, as the church has reflected on marriage over the millennia, the radical difference—yet profound compatibility and procreative potential—of a man and a woman has been an essential component of our understanding of marriage, as has the image of the church as Christ’s bride, with the consummation of redemption likened to a wedding feast. Altering our understanding of marriage in such a way that removes gender as a factor would strike at the heart of how we think about what it means that God created us “male and female” in his image, and the mystery that “a man shall leave his mother, and a woman leave her home, and the two shall become one flesh.” Again, I simply can’t embrace a theology of marriage, which I think that we all agree must be the context for sexual intimacy, that eliminates gender difference and also removes the potential for childbearing.

 So, how to balance the radical welcome of Jesus with the biblical prohibition against sexual intimacy outside of heterosexual marriage? In the case of the Samaritan woman, the woman caught in adultery, and Zacchaeus, Jesus never affirmed their behavior (namely serial marriage, adultery, and financial malfeasance), but he did affirm them. That was Jesus’ priority—seeking and saving the lost. It strikes me that, at its best, this is what it might mean to be “welcoming but not affirming”—always mindful that the outcast, especially those rejected by our religious authorities (who look and dress and talk like me), are the ones that Jesus sought, first seeing broken hearts and bodies rather than sinful behavior. Yet, it also means that when Jesus shows up in our lives, we can’t stay the same; moving toward the new creation with Jesus requires reordering our lives. The Samaritan woman became an evangelist, the woman caught in adultery went her on her way to “sin no more”, and Zacchaeus made restitution before giving away half of his wealth. In Matthew’s gospel, we read two “calls” of Jesus to his disciples. One was a call to self-denial (Matthew 16:24), while the other was a call to rest (Matthew 11:28-29) Discipleship as a live of both freedom and self-denial is a paradox at heart of Christian life. Living in this tension has implications for each of us—gay and straight—as we seek to give and receive love in Jesus’ new community called the church, full of broken, yet redeemed, people longing for the new creation.

 Along with these biblical and theological reflections, it might be helpful to tell a bit of my own story, as a Christian, a friend, and now as a pastor, in wrestling through this crucial question. First, my ecclesial context has forced me to grapple with the consequences of profound disagreement on this question. I was ordained in The Episcopal Church (TEC) in 2002. The next year, Gene Robinson, a partnered gay man, was elected and consecrated as the bishop of New Hampshire. This set off a conflict that has resulted in many Americans leaving TEC, and has brought the global Anglican Communion to the brink of schism. In the course of my ministry, I’ve spent quite a bit of time praying, studying, and listening—listening to the voices of LGBT individuals both in my congregations and in the broader church, and listening to angry, frustrated, and confused straight people, some affirming and others running the gamut between compassionately non-affirming and outright homophobic, as they try to reconcile faithful Christian living with the reality of LGBT people in our midst. I’ve also listened to the voices of Anglicans around the globe, many of whom, for an array of cultural and theological reasons, stridently oppose any move toward LGBT acceptance, whether in the church or society. 

 Personally, I chose to leave TEC in 2007, but I’m quick to say that I didn’t leave TEC because of “homosexuality,” but rather because TEC had grown apart from historic and global Christianity, and, by aligning myself with the Anglicans in the Global South, I was aligning myself not only with historic Christianity, but also with our ecumenical partners in Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, and the burgeoning evangelical and charismatic groups around the world.

 Regardless of my own reasons for leaving TEC, I find myself in an ecclesial context that is, rightly or not, often perceived through the lens of the conflict over how to engage LGBT individuals. Because of that context, I most often find myself advocating for the “welcoming” rather than the “not-affirming,” which is (again, rightly, I believe) taken as a given among my coreligionists. I encourage my parishioners to listen to the stories of LGBT people, especially those who have been raised in the church. I also urge them to consider carefully the evangelistic and pastoral consequences of engaging in defensive, reactionary, and often ignorant rhetoric on the “culture war” issues of same-sex marriage and LGBT rights (although, post-Obergefell, these discussions have changed; now we need to be careful that our understandable advocacy for religious freedom isn’t simply cover for hostility toward the LGBT community). I’ve also spent time listening to the concerns of my brothers and sisters in the Global South, agreeing with them on the importance of upholding the traditional Christian understanding of marriage, yet also sharing my concerns about legislation that might result in the imprisonment, or even death, of openly gay or lesbian people.

 Relationally and pastorally, I’ve evolved (a dangerous word, I know) in my understanding of what LGBT individuals experience. Growing up in a relatively fundamentalist church in a small town in eastern Arizona, I often heard about the “gay agenda” and that homosexuality was a choice. As an athlete, “gay” was the ultimate insult one could give a teammate or opponent. It was while I was in college at the University of Arizona I began to meet gay people, and had quite a shock when a friend from an evangelical campus ministry came out one fall, struggling to make sense of her sexual orientation and her evangelical faith. At that time, I adopted an understanding of homosexual orientation similar to that of Elizabeth Moberly, which basically assumes that those with a homosexual orientation were likely sexually abused, or had an absent parent. As such, LGBT people were not to be objects of scorn, but rather of compassion, trusting that, with the right counseling and healing prayer, change was possible.

 However, in seminary at Gordon-Conwell, a close friend of mine came out near the end of my time there. He shared with me that he had spent countless hours in therapy and prayer sessions, seeking freedom and healing from same-sex attraction, but, as I’ve heard from many others since then, his sexual orientation hadn’t budged. Since graduation, two other classmates have come out, both of whom are now married to same-sex partners. 

 So, I hit something of a crisis point. If a homosexual orientation wasn’t chosen, and generally couldn’t be “healed” through prayer and therapy (although the stories of those claiming such healing shouldn’t be dismissed out of hand), what, as a pastor and brother in Christ, might I offer? A call to repentance or an invitation to reparative therapy suddenly seemed—rather than compassionate—potentially, if not likely, cruel.

 As I’ve grappled with a way forward in engaging with LGBT people, I’ve been helped and challenged by the work of Wesley Hill, Eve Tushnet, and our conversation partner Tim Otto. Their lives and writing have, generally, assumed that sexual orientation is fairly fixed, and challenged the church to rethink how we conceive of loving, intimate relationships. If the church is asking gay and lesbian people to refrain from sexual intimacy, are we ready to create space for other expressions of love and intimacy? 

 I’m left in a place, then, of affirming the historic Christian teaching on marriage and sexuality while seeking to embrace LGBT people outside of the church and create space for creative, non-sexual, expressions of love and intimacy for those LGBT brothers and sisters within the church. This is not a comfortable position, to be sure, but one rooted in biblical, theological, and pastoral reflection that I believe is necessary “for such a time as this.”

 Now, what’s at stake? Why do I believe that it is important to be both welcoming and non-affirming?

 On one hand, not listening to LGBT people, both within and outside of the church, has had, and will continue to have, disastrous consequences for the witness and ministry of the church. Simplistic assumptions regarding the causes of same-sex attraction (i.e. “it’s a choice” or “you have father issues”), and opposition to civil rights for LGBT people will continue to alienate us unnecessarily from a community—along with their friends, families, and other allies—that is likely already (often for good reasons, unfortunately) suspicious of us. Also, if we communicate, whether implicitly or explicitly, to our congregations that same-sex attraction is somehow uniquely depraved, then LGBT people in our congregations, and children who may be wrestling with sexual identity issues, will conclude that the church is not a safe space within which to share the deepest pains and struggles in their lives. This requires a rethinking of how we teach our children and a structuring of our common life as Christian communities. We must be up for the challenge. In fact, if we refuse to create space for LGBT Christians to flourish relationally, only telling them what they can’t do, we unwittingly wind up doing more harm than good.

 Honestly, some days I’m tempted by the affirming position. After all, divorce and remarriage, with a couple of exceptions, is clearly condemned in the New Testament, but most of us permit divorced and remarried individuals to share in the life and ministry of our churches, even though, to a greater or lesser extent, their relationship with the church may be complicated at some level because of their divorce and subsequent remarriage. Is this a double standard? It might be, and this has forced many of us to do some serious reflection on the nature of Christian marriage as opposed to “marriage” as recognized by the state. When we look the other way in cases of heterosexual adultery, divorce, and pornography use while condemning same-sex relationships, we come off as the worst kind of hypocrites. 

 I had a profound experience along these lines in 2003, just after Gene Robinson was approved as bishop of New Hampshire. I was in San Francisco (of all places), and, scrolling through Yahoo News one afternoon, I saw that Britney Spears had been “married” the previous weekend in Las Vegas, but was now seeking an annulment. The question immediately struck me, “Is it OK for me to get worked up about legal recognition for same-sex couples while I just roll my eyes when celebrities get ‘married’ and divorced so cavalierly?” The answer, I believe, is, “No, it’s not OK.” If marriage is a sacred union of a man and woman, somehow reflecting both the image and likeness of God as well as Christ’s love for his church, the way we currently practice “marriage” in America is a far cry from the sacrament of Holy Matrimony. 

 In this way, the Obergefell decision is a gift, exploding the illusion that somehow maintaining the legal definition of marriage as a relationship between a man and a woman keeps our society somehow in accord with God’s intentions for creation. In a world of contraception, abortion, and no-fault divorce, pre-Obergefell American civil marriage is nothing like the sacrament of Holy Matrimony. The Obergefell decision, then, is a gift to non-affirming Christians like myself, because we are now forced to think through the radical nature of uniquely Christian marriage, and call married couples, and those preparing for marriage, into the profound mystery of what it means to live in this sacred union. I no longer work hand in hand with the civil magistrate who signs marriage licenses, but instead work subversively, calling engaged and married couples into a relationship that transcends the sentimental, contractual construct currently en vogue and instead takes us into the very heart of Christian discipleship, of creation and redemption.

 I’m also resistant to the affirming position because of the potential consequences for our understanding of scripture. Again, despite their best efforts, biblical scholars who have sought to interpret the Bible in such a way that supports affirming loving, consensual, and monogamous gay or lesbian relationships have usually done two things. First, they have sought to make the biblical passages that directly address same-sex sexual intimacy irrelevant for our discussion, and then sought analogies for LGBT inclusion, whether within scripture or in church history. I want to be careful here, because, truly, passages from Genesis 19, Leviticus 18 and 22, Romans 1, 1 Corinthians 6, and 1 Timothy 1, have been used as “texts of terror” (often known among the LGBT community as “clobber passages”) in the lives of many LGBT people. We must reject using these passages, isolated from their context (a context which is, ultimately, the whole Bible, at the heart of which is the gospel), to put guilt and shame on anyone. However, we also can’t avoid these passages, which, while possibly referring to cultic, non-consensual, or exploitative sex, simply can’t, with integrity, be reduced so narrowly, and separated from the creation narrative(s) of Genesis 1-2. We enter dangerous territory when we say things like, “Well, if Paul had only known . . .” 

 It’s also true that today, Christians nearly universally reject slavery, and a lot of us (including my Anglican brothers and sisters in Kenya and Uganda) support women in leadership positions. Yes, there are passages in the New Testament that seem to accept slavery and require male leadership. However, passages like Galatians 3:28 and Philemon 15-16 plant a time bomb within the institution of slavery, and examples of Phoebe, Junia, Priscilla, and others suggest that women actually did hold positions of leadership in the New Testament. There is no indication of acceptance of same-sex sexual relationships in the New Testament, only prohibition rooted in creation and the fall. 

 Finally, I’m worried about the ecumenical consequences of the affirming position. Again, my own story illustrates the perils of embracing sexual relationships outside of marriage, as TEC has found itself increasingly marginalized in the incredibly vast world of global Christianity since 2003. The fact that this issue has generated such controversy might be an indication that it is more serious that many of us in the West believe it to be, why it can’t simply be assigned to “adiaphora.” Advocacy for LGBT rights, including legal recognition for same-sex relationships, can be done while holding to the traditional Christian sex ethic, and, strategically, might be the best way to help our brothers and sisters, both here and abroad, understand the complexities of sexual identity. Changing our understanding of marriage and sexuality, however, touches on core understandings of creation, the fall, redemption, and even the doctrine of God.

 Well, I’m over my 3000-word limit, so I’ll stop here. I’m looking forward to reading Tim’s and Weldon’s posts. I can only hope that I’ve done justice to what it might look like for a church to be welcoming but not affirming as we engage LGBT individuals.

A Third Way is Possible

How do you recommend that churches engage with LGBT individuals and why? 

Les Chuchoteuses – cc 2.0 by Serge Melki – editedRather than treat LGBT Christians as a sexuality to be affirmed or disciplined, churches should walk with LGBT people with curiosity. Churches should ask the same question of an LGBT member it asks of all its members: how is God at work in this person’s life and how can we cooperate with that?

Churches should model the difficult practice of loving each other in spite of differences—differences like affirming vs. non-affirming. This is preferable to demanding doctrinal correctness (on either side) concerning a small aspect of sexual ethics­: something that affects around 3% of the population, a topic on which there are six explicit verses in the Bible.

Practically this means allowing for differences of belief and action on both sides. LGBT people—acting with a clear conscience—should be able to marry the same sex, transition genders, and be leaders in a congregation. On the other hand, an affirming theology should not be officially adopted by the church. Non-affirming members should be free to hold dissenting opinions. Just as many churches tolerate a range of opinions concerning pacifism and just war (and whether it is permissible to serve in the military), churches should allow members to hold and practice different beliefs on this topic.

I advocate this not because I think the topic is unimportant. I’m gay and I care deeply about it. But this debate should not divide the church. My conservative Bible professor used to quote the helpful adage, “In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things charity.” This is a non-essential matter that feels essential because of the supercharged emotions that accompany it. It is a clash of conservative and liberal presuppositions that are more products of culture than of Christ’s teachings. I’ll unpack that below.

Finally, the church should adopt a “third-way” stance not just because the reasons this argument gets so heated are misguided (though they often are). This is a chance for the church to witness to a beautiful and important aspect of the gospel: that because of Christ people who disagree over important things can still live together in peace.     

A Non-Essential that feels Essential

Some of us like to think of ourselves as objective computers that collect data, analyze it, and formulate unbiased conclusions. But human beings don’t work like that. As neuroscientist António Damásio has demonstrated in his work with patients—patients who due to brain damage have limited emotions—humans use emotions to make decisions about everything. His patients agonize over which restaurant to choose or which day to schedule an appointment. Emotions play a large role in little decisions, and also in decisions about things like the morality of same-sex relationships.

In his book Unclean, psychology professor Richard Beck observes that homosexuality has been seen by the Christian tradition as disgusting. Disgust is one of seven human emotions for which people have universal facial expressions across cultures. While core emotions such as surprise, anger, joy, and sadness can be observed in babies, disgust comes later because it is taught by culture. Beck relates the story of his son who, in the New York subway, grabbed some gum off the floor and chewed it (16).

At times, we might talk ourselves through disgust. We might feel disgust at the notion of eating chicken feet and yet do it in order to receive hospitality, or decide to touch a disheveled stranger’s lips with our own in order to administer life-saving breaths. But when some Christians experience the feeling of disgust in regard to same-sex relationships, they take it as a God-given moral compass meant to help them tell right from wrong.  

I’m not accusing conservatives of manufacturing disgust. Growing up in this culture, even though I’m gay, I sometimes feel disgust at things like the sight of men kissing. But I believe I was taught this feeling. Some cultures, after all, regard men holding hands or even kissing as normal. The fact that I feel somewhat differently about women engaging in public displays of affection makes me think that this sense isn’t directly from God.

Being gay I often—in place of disgust—feel joy at the sight of two men kissing. Joy is another core human emotion. The longest stretch of joy I ever felt came from being infatuated with another guy. I loved being loved. I loved loving. It is tempting to take this feeling as a sign of approval from God. Jesuit priest and philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote that “Joy is the infallible sign of the presence of God.”

This is the problem. One person’s disgust collides with another’s joy. Disgust, designed to protect us from ingesting harmful food from which we get sick or die, is a potent and powerful emotion. Joy, on the other hand, taps into our brain’s reward centers and sends the command: you’ve done something right! Do it again!

One side thinks, “Given the obvious sinfulness (read: the disgust I feel) of same-sex relationships, those people have forsaken what it means to be Christian.” The other side thinks, “Those people are so opposed to human flourishing (read: the joy I feel) they’re clearly the self-righteous religious leaders Jesus would have condemned.”

So let’s begin by taking a deep breath. The Christian doctrine of sin teaches that our feelings can deceive us. Disgust might help us detect sin or it might be a sign of a Pharisee heart. On the other hand, our culture tends toward an idolatry of romantic love so our joy may be in the service of worshipping a false god.

At the very least, let’s humbly admit that our feelings may influence how we think about this. Given the powerful emotions associated with this topic, we tend to feel that being right about this question (either affirming or non-affirming) is central to faith. In fact, there is good reason to believe this is an important matter but ultimately peripheral to an orthodox Christianity. There is good reason for a “respectful conversation.”

Beyond the emotions that make this conversation so tense, conservatives claim that this is an essential matter because it is about “the authority of Scripture” and liberals that is it about “justice.” Both of these claims are mistaken.

Scripture

The debate over same-sex relationships and the Bible is not one about Scripture’s authority, but of Scripture’s interpretation. This may seem preposterous to some conservative Christians. After all, there are six verses about same-sex relations and they all speak against it. Anyone, conservatives assert, who denies that Scripture speaks against homosexuality is engaged in rationalizations for a cherished yet sinful behavior.

At its most simplistic, this view sees the Bible as a kind of moral encyclopedia—pick an ethical question, look up the entries about it, obey the answer. But a few quick tests reveal the inadequacy of this view. Is it okay to wear clothes that blend fabrics? Have multiple wives? Eat road kill? Look up the verses. The answers are: no, maybe, no. Perhaps more disturbing, look for the verse that says definitively that slave-holding is a sin. It is not there.

The Bible is more a storybook than it is a morality textbook. It is a story in which the father of our faith, Abraham, sets aside previous promises of God about becoming a great nation through Isaac and attempts to sacrifice Isaac to demonstrate his faith. It is a story in which Jesus sets aside Sabbath laws related to harvesting and claims that “The Sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27). It is a story in which the early church sets aside Biblical prophecy that the Gentiles would learn the law from Israel (Isa 2:3, Mic 4:2) and deem the law an unnecessary burden (Acts 15:10-11).

The Bible is less like a law book than it is a mystery novel in which all is revealed and interpreted through Christ. A reader of Scripture, seeking to submit herself to the authority of Scripture, might ask questions like the following with integrity: Since the primary expression of same-sex relationships in the first century was older men with 13 to 17 year-old boys, could it be that Scripture is condemning that practice rather than modern day relationships of equals? Since Christ said “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’” (Matt 9:13), what does it mean to learn mercy in relation to LGBT Christians? Have we been sacrificing LGBT people for our own sense of righteousness? Might we Gentiles, for whom the law was put aside, now need to “put aside” the law for the sake of yet another group thought to be “far off” from God (Eph 2:13)?

I could list many more honest questions. The point is, the question is not whether to accept the Bible’s authoritative teaching on homosexuality. The question is, how do we understand the different Biblical strands in relation to this topic? It isn’t, as Misty Iron’s pointed out, “are you for or against the Bible?” It is a question of how we interpret certain Biblical texts (those that command love for the marginalized) against other Biblical texts (those which seem to condemn same-sex relations).

Obviously, a sophisticated case, one which takes into account the narrative arc of Scripture, can be made against same-sex relationships. See, for example, Richard Hays’s masterful The Moral Vision of the New Testament. But a case can also be made for same-sex relationships which takes the authority of Scripture seriously. For a recent example, see James Brownson’s excellent Bible, Gender, Sexuality.

Justice

Just as conservatives think that this is an essential issue because it has to do with respect for the Bible, so too liberals think that this is essential because it is an issue of justice. A typical rejoinder to a third –way stance might be, “and would you also advocate a position that officially allows racial prejudice in your church?” 

No. But that is unfair. It is one thing to discriminate against a person because of an immutable biological trait. It is quite another to discriminate against a behavior because of a sincerely held belief about Scripture’s teaching.

As simple as the above statement is, I can imagine a storm of protest from some of my LGBT affirming friends. In the next three paragraphs I’ll try to explain why this is so contentious. If you find the above unproblematic, you might want to skip ahead.

In modern western culture there are dearly held principles which are usually assumed rather than debated. These principles include the importance of freedom, individualism, rights, and equality (FIRE, my former pastor John Alexander used to call them). Think for just a moment about how important these principles are to us: 

  • Freedom is one of the few things for which people are willing to die.
  • Anthropologists say that the trait that most differentiates western culture from others is individualism. For instance, a non-western person with a strong tribal identity might report thinking first about any occurrence, “how does this affect my tribe?” rather than, “how does this affect me?”
  • Rights form the foundation of our democracies.
  • Equality is one of the most hard won values we have whether it be the civil war, women’s rights, or #blacklivesmatter.

 Given these values, self-expression and authenticity as seen as great goods. Freud’s legacy concerning the centrality of the libido has formed us and made us think that sexual-expression is crucial to healthy human flourishing. All of this combines to make us think that each individual, has the equal right to freely express her sexuality as she sees fit. Any restriction of this is fundamentally unjust. As sociologist Robert Bellah writes, “Anything that would violate our right to think for ourselves, judge for ourselves, make our own decisions, live our lives as we see fit, is not only morally wrong, it is sacrilegious” (Habits, 140).

While I believe the FIRE values have done great good, and have their roots in the Judeo-Christian story, they should not be ultimate. At the center of the Christian story is a person who gave himself for others in obedient, self-sacrificing love. It is consistent with the Christian story to ask people to take up costly behavioral disciplines such as monogamy in marriage, or celibacy for singles and the same-sex attracted.

I wish conservatives would have more empathy for the power of this argument. I recently had lunch with an intelligent, conservative man who had a thorough knowledge of the traditionalist arguments.  I knew there would be no possibility of him doubting his condemnation of same-sex relationships.

Because our sexuality is deeply interconnected with our personhood, it was hard to not take this personally. My feeling was, “you just don’t get it.” I wish I had attempted something like the following:

I grew up in the conservative church, and because it didn’t distinguish between orientation and behavior, I grew up loathing myself. It is difficult to communicate the cost of this. It contributed to significant sadness and self-destructive behaviors aimed at medicating my self-hate. The same church that caused such pain is telling me that I’m not allowed to enter into a bodily, healing, reciprocal relationship of covenanted, faithful love. That is hard to take. It doesn’t feel like Christ’s love. It doesn’t feel like mercy.

I can imagine him responding, “Well, the traditional church needs to do much better at distinguishing between orientation and behavior, but that doesn’t mean we can condone the behavior.” And I have to concede that such logic is rational.

Here is a little disclaimer. For some LGBT people, going to a third-way church, a church in which some people might condemn same-sex relations, gender-transition, etc., may trigger PTSD symptoms. For such people, I recommend a “welcoming and affirming” church. But for most of us, church shouldn’t be an exercise in relating to “people like me.” Rather, it ought to be a place where we engage the difficult practice of relating to people who, in all kinds of ways, are unlike ourselves. To say that most LGBT people can’t hack a church in which people disagree with us is ultimately patronizing, and its own kind of prejudice.

Essentials

Even if this debate were about “the authority of Scripture,” or “justice,” (which I dispute) it still would not justify dividing from one another.  Just before Christ goes to the cross Jesus prays for his disciples, in what one enthusiastic preacher called “Christ’s most important instructions, in the last huddle, before the big play.” He prays that his followers might “become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (John 17:23). He prays that they “may be one, as we are one” (17:22).

Given this, the criteria for Christian division ought to be very high. The clearest case for division is when someone persists in heresy. What constitutes heresy? Theologian Steve Harmon defines it this way, “A heretic is someone whose account of the Christian story is so dangerously inadequate that’s really an altogether different story than the biblical story of the Triune God” (Ecumenism, 21) Justin S. Holcomb, Episcopal Priest and author of Know the Heretics, writes “The apostles were not afraid to denounce heresy. If a teaching or practice threatened the gospel’s integrity, they strongly condemned it. . .” [emphasis mine] (CT, 42). Writing in the evangelical magazine Christianity Today he commends the creeds as a guide to identifying heresy and writes, “If a believer genuinely accepts the Nicene Creed, they should not be dubbed a heretic” (CT, 45).

Clearly, by these definitions, one can hold either an affirming or non-affirming view, without being a heretic. Still, it is a long way from “not being a heretic” to “someone we actively welcome in our church despite views on sexuality with which we disagree.”

Ken Wilson in A Letter to My Congregation, a book that beautifully blends a pastoral heart with incisive theology, lays out the case for a third-way approach which urges the welcome of such differences. Wilson examines Romans 14 and 15 in which Paul gives counsel to the Christians in Rome about a “disputable matter.” The matter appears to be an argument about food sacrificed to idols and the observance of special days such as the Sabbath (Rom 14:2-6).

For modern believers, these issues appear to be of little consequence. We’re tempted to think, “Yeah, the whole vegetarian vs. vegan vs. carnivore controversy. That again.” Or, “Saturday versus Sunday worship. Get a life!” But for those early Christians, meat sacrificed to idols posed the specter of idolatry. Idolatry not only violated the first of the ten commandments, but was the most denounced sin of Israel in the Old Testament. The Sabbath command was also one of the ten commandments—the foundation of Judeo-Christian ethical teaching. For early Christians, these were crucial, critical, central issues.

Paul concludes his treatment of the controversy with the exhortation to both sides to “Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God” (15:7). This may be the conclusion not only of this passage, but of all of Romans. Gentiles and Jews, the “weak” and the “strong,” (people some commentators compare to liberals and the conservatives) were in conflict with each other. Paul urges them to live a unity borne of the confession that “Jesus is Lord.” This heals the fundamental Jew-Gentile divide in the ancient world, and can heal the polarized liberal versus conservative divide in the modern world.  

Good News

As our world suffers conflict, I doubt our best witness is to “get it right” and seperate from those who are “wrong.” Our most prophetic witness will be as we bridge divisions of race, class, gender, and the liberal versus conservative chasm. If we can live with each other in love and peace across those dividing lines, then we will have something to offer the world that others will know as “good news.”

We’ve had so many causalities in this conflict. We’ve ruptured families, churches, and denominations. We’ve hurt sexual minorities and alienated sincere Christians. We’ve neglected crucial topics like mission, service, and worship for the sake of the fight. We’ve maligned each other and thought the worst of each other. We’ve brawled so that it has spilled over into the press. We’ve eviscerated the Gospel witness that because of Jesus we can be reconciled not only with God, but with one another. 

Because of these things, most of this essay appeals for less anxiety about this matter. This topic, as important as it is, should not be a cause for separating from one another. Obviously, it will take some creative thinking to imagine how people on different sides of this question can welcome one another in the context of a local church. Please see Wilson’s A Letter to My Congregation on this as well the third-way website for more help with practicalities.

Faith, as I suggest in my book Oriented to Faith: Transforming the Conflict Over Same-Sex Relationships, is not being certain of every ethical issue. Faith is the “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (emphasis mine, Heb 11:1). In the midst of all the causalities and conflict, God is at work for the good. Knowing that, we can participate in God’s good work by welcoming people who believe differently than us—knowing that as we do so—we imitate Christ who so generously welcomes us. 

Topic #8: Churches and the LGBT Community (February 2016)

Conversation Partners:

Leading Question: Different Christian churches have taken various positions relative to their engagements with LGBT individuals, a number of which are variations of the following general categories:

  • Welcoming but not affirming
  • Welcoming and affirming
  • Accepting, without taking a position relative to “welcoming” and/or “affirming” because the theological issues are “disputed matters” and we agree to allow disagreement

How do you recommend that churches engage with LGBT individuals and why?”