These people do not speak for me.
It’s no secret that the media thrives on controversy. When someone says something outrageous, it gets a lot of attention. When someone says something thoughtful and reasonable, we tend to gloss over it.
So when polarizing debates happen in our culture, it’s often the guys with the megaphones who get all the press. We let them define the debate, and then the rest of us find ourselves quietly saying, “But they don’t speak for me.”
I am a Christian. I’m an evangelical. I grew up Southern Baptist, and I am a lifelong North Carolinian.
But when two different North Carolina pastors made headlines this month for saying horrible things about gay people (one of them suggesting physically abusing effeminate boys and one of them suggesting putting gay people in camps with electrified fences), I find myself wanting to scream, “They don’t speak for me!”
They don’t speak for all Christians. Or all evangelicals. Or all Baptists. Or all North Carolinians.
And while I’m not Side B (the term for people who oppose same-sex marriage), I know that they don’t speak for all Side B people either. I have plenty of Side B friends who were horrified at those words.
Also, I’m gay. And guess what? Those gay folks who go on TV or the internet to use these videos as excuses to bash Christianity and make all Christians sound like bigots? They don’t speak for me either.
I’m gay, but I don’t agree with or approve of everything that every other gay person says or does.
I’m a Christian, but I don’t agree with or approve of everything that every other Christian says or does. (Frankly, I’m not convinced that some of them understand what it means to be a Christian at all, though that’s not for me to judge.)
And if you agree with me, and these people don’t speak for you, then join me in speaking up. Write blog posts. Post on Facebook. Talk about this with your family. Call your local media.
Not only that, but donate to the organizations who are speaking up for you. If you don’t know of any, find them. Or create them. If we don’t put our money, our actions, and our words behind what we believe, then we have no right to complain when the extremists claim to speak for us.
Here’s what I believe.
I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. I believe he died for our sins. And I believe he showed grace and love like none we’ve ever experienced.
I believe that he loved every person he encountered in his life, including—maybe most especially—the outcasts and the sinners. I believe he opposed violence and prejudice, that he spent time with the people that “people like him” weren’t supposed to spend time with, and that he returned people’s insults and hatred with love and compassion.
I also believe he changed the world.
And I want to follow in his footsteps.
A different perspective.
Two days ago, I posted a little piece on Amendment One, the North Carolina amendment reinforcing the existing ban on same-sex marriage. It was a little something I posted mostly to encourage my gay and gay-supportive friends to try to understand those who don’t agree with them, instead of just labeling them all “bigots” and moving on.
Then that post went viral, and I got more comments than all the other posts on this blog put together. Wow!
Yesterday, I decided to change the subject with a more lighthearted post about being vulnerable. That had some fun comments, but it’s the gay marriage post people are still flocking to in droves.
So today, I’d like to revisit the gay marriage question from a different perspective.
Last time, I encouraged my friends in favor of gay marriage to try to understand those who disagree with them. I’m going to revisit that topic in more depth in a future post. Today, I’d like to encourage my friends opposed to gay marriage to try to understand the other side as well.
The following video has been making its way around the internet in recent days, and for good reason. It’s incredibly powerful. If you support gay marriage, I’m sure you’ll agree with the video’s message, but this post isn’t really for you. It’s for my readers who oppose gay marriage.
I know that many of my readers are wonderful Christian folks who have a moral opposition to same-sex marriage. You believe that the Bible is clear on the subject, and as Christians, you want to treat gay people with love but not condone or encourage their sin. I completely understand, and I’m not asking you to change your mind on that.
As Christians, though, I believe that when we want to show love to others, it’s important for us to try to understand the people we want to show love to. If your view on this is different from mine, then it helps me to treat you with love if I can understand why you believe what you do and why it’s important to you. It doesn’t mean I’ll change my mind; it just means that I can put myself in your shoes and use that information to help me treat you with respect.
So if you oppose civil marriage for same-sex couples but genuinely want to understand the perspective of a gay person who supports it, I invite you to take ten minutes out of your day to listen to a young man named Shane Bitney Crone explain why this is so important to him. (Seriously, it’s ten minutes; I would hope that all of us as Christians could take ten minutes out of our days to understand our fellow human beings.)
Some who haven’t gotten to know me or haven’t carefully read what I’m saying here will misunderstand, thinking that I posted this to try to change people’s minds on gay marriage. That’s not it at all. Others will be angry with me because they think I should be taking this opportunity to argue for same-sex marriage. But I’m hoping that the majority of you will understand my real point—this is the most divisive social issue of our time, and if we as Christians are going to live out Christ’s love for those on both sides of the issue, it’s vital that we take the time to get to know them and see where they’re coming from.
Shane’s video doesn’t change anything about what the Bible says or how you interpret it; it doesn’t answer any theological or moral questions about gay sex. What it does do is help us understand where someone like him is coming from, and what’s important to him. And that is something that all of us, on both sides, should do more often for one another. It’s about toning down the rhetoric, which as Rachel Held Evans beautifully pointed out this week, is probably the single most important thing the church must do to avoid losing an entire generation.
A challenge to both sides of the Amendment One debate.
This is probably the most political thing I will ever post on this blog, but in spite of the fact that it was inspired by a recent political debate, this isn’t actually a political post. It’s actually about people, and how we respond to these sorts of polarizing political debates.
As you may know, I live in North Carolina, which until last night was the only state in this region of the country not to have adopted a constitutional amendment permanently banning same-sex marriage. North Carolina law already states that “marriage” in the eyes of our state is only between a man and a woman, so the general sentiment seemed to be that there was no need to go further and amend our state constitution on this polarizing issue.
But times change, and after the election two years ago brought about a change in which party had local power, an amendment was put on the North Carolina ballot to permanently enshrine the state’s opposition to same-sex marriage in the constitution. The proposed amendment was known as Amendment One, and if you’ve been watching the news, you already know that it passed last night.
There’s been a ton of moral outrage about this on all sides, much of it from outside of the state. This latest political fight came to symbolize so much about the culture war for folks on both sides, that it almost seemed irrelevant that this was about North Carolina.
So as a lifelong North Carolinian who is also one of the most outspoken gay Christians on the internet, I have something to say about this.
First of all, it shouldn’t be any surprise that I opposed the amendment. I think same-sex couples should have the same legal rights as other couples, and even if I didn’t, many experts have argued that the wording of this amendment is dangerously vague, not only banning same-sex marriage and civil unions, but also affecting heterosexual couples, children’s health insurance, domestic violence victims, and other important issues—all to ban something that was already banned to begin with.
Maybe you agree with me; maybe you disagree. But that’s not the point I want to make.
After last night’s vote, I heard a disturbingly large number of my friends, national commentators, and others suggesting that this vote just proves that North Carolinians (or at least a giant percentage of us) are bigoted, homophobic, backwards people who are so filled with hate that we oppose equality for certain groups just because we can.
And see, that’s just not the case. Yes, I voted against the amendment, as did many of my friends and hundreds of thousands of other NC residents. But I also know people who voted for it, and I know that they are not simply bigoted, homophobic, backwards people. It’s way more complicated than that.
Is there a lot of prejudice in North Carolina against LGBT people? Absolutely there is. But it’s not, as some have imagined, just a matter of “bigoted homophobes.” By and large, the prejudice that exists is a matter of a lack of understanding. Many of the folks I’ve talked to honestly believe that people choose to be gay and could choose not to be. They think that giving legal recognition to same-sex partnerships would increase the number of people choosing to be gay, and would therefore encourage more people to turn away from God’s plan for their lives. When they talk about homosexuality as a “perversion,” they’re not trying to be bigoted or mean; they’re being quite literal about it.
Those folks aren’t the only ones who supported the amendment, but in my experience, they make up the lion’s share of those who were most vocally in support. My Christian friends who understand what my life has been like as a gay Christian may not support same-sex marriage, but they tend to be way more thoughtful and careful about these questions, and they are the ones who felt most torn about this amendment and all the legal and moral issues it raised.
That’s why I posted to Facebook: “Yes, my state’s vote tonight saddens me. But it is not, as some have imagined, about intentional bigotry. It is about a lack of understanding, pure and simple—of who we are, what we want, and why it matters. Education is needed, and that is what I will keep dedicating myself to, every single day of my life.”
Some of my friends pushed back on this, saying that it is about bigotry and that I shouldn’t be so quick to give people excuses. I understand where they’re coming from, but I think we have to be very careful before we write people off as bigoted caricatures of themselves.
As I’ve said before on this blog, everyone is the protagonist of their own story. Almost always, we do the things we do because we think they’re going to bring about something good. The people on both sides who voted on this amendment honestly believed they were doing the right thing. Whichever side you’re on, if you caricature those who disagree with you as merely bigoted, stupid, homophobic, sinful, or evil, you’ve greatly underestimated them as people.
Okay, so maybe you’re angry and/or hurt about the vote (or some other related issue). I am too. Maybe you’re thinking, “Look, why should I care what they’re thinking? Bigotry is bigotry. I don’t have to understand them; I just have to oppose them.”
I get it. When you’re angry, it’s virtually impossible to try to see things from the other person’s perspective. It’s way, way easier to just see them as the villains. (And of course, they see you the same way.) But if you genuinely care about changing things, that’s the most dangerous thing you can do.
Here’s the thing: People are fallible, and people are sinful, but most of us aren’t just purely evil. The people who oppose you on this or any issue are complex people who, in most cases, just haven’t fully understood where you’re coming from or why it’s important. If you dismiss them as evil/bigoted/homophobic/stupid/whatever, what you’ve just done is to destroy your own ability to change their minds. The only effective way to change people’s minds is to first do the work to understand where they’re coming from and then work to educate them about the things they don’t yet understand.
“Yes,” you may be saying, “but they have to be willing to change. They have to have open minds in the first place. And these folks clearly don’t.”
And see, that’s where you’re right—and where you’re wrong.
Yes, people have to have open minds… sort of. It’s true that if someone refuses to be educated about an issue, then there’s nothing you can do. Remember the parable of the sower, throwing seed on different kinds of ground? There’s no way he can sow the seed to force the bad soil to accept it, and there’s no way you can argue well enough to convince every person to change their mind on the issues you care most about.
However.
Most of us don’t begin with open minds on issues we think we already understand. Most of the time, our minds have to be opened by circumstances, experiences, stories, and people who are patient with us. And if you honestly believe that over half of North Carolinians are so prejudiced that they would refuse to open their minds to patient people who take the time to understand them and then lovingly educate them about the lives of LGBT people, well then I’m afraid you may be the prejudiced one.
Taking the time to see things from the other side’s perspective is important because it’s the way of Jesus. But it’s also important for the very practical reason that it’s the only real way to change minds. You can’t change people’s minds—or their voting habits, or the way they treat people—if you don’t have any clue why they disagree with you to begin with, or if you think that it’s just because they’re inherently bigoted/hateful/wicked people.
So yes, it feels gratifying to look at the people on the other side and dismiss them as stupid, hateful bigots. It makes you feel better about yourself, and it gives you an outlet for your anger. (And likewise to those who look at LGBT and LGBT-supportive folks as godless, hedonistic lovers of sin.) But as soon as you let that attitude settle in, you’ve lost your chance to make a difference. You’ve guaranteed your own inability to make change. It’s the equivalent of the high school student who gets frustrated, shouts, “I hate this stupid homework! It’s impossible!” and flops down on his bed.
Gratifying, yes. But you’re not going to make any progress that way.
My challenge to you, however you felt about this amendment and however you feel about LGBT/Christian issues in general, is to force yourself to see your opponents as human beings who honestly believe they’re doing the right thing. Figure out what it is that’s really motivating them, and if the answer you come up with is simply “bigotry” or “love of the flesh” or “stupidity” or “rebellion against God,” keep digging, because you haven’t gone deep enough yet. Then once you really understand them—really, really understand them—find the ways you can reach out and begin to educate them, patiently and lovingly. That is how you make change in people’s lives.
Calling them names and dismissing them is way easier, of course. But since when has the work of Christ ever been easy?
[Special Note: This post has been getting a lot of attention around the internet. If this is your first time reading my blog, I strongly recommend reading this interview I did on Rachel Held Evans’ blog to learn more about why I believe what I do, and checking out my book and the other posts on my first-time visitors’ page. That will answer a lot of your questions! Also, don’t forget to subscribe at the top of the page to see what comes next! Thanks! —Justin]
Here’s what happens when I speak at Christian colleges.
Speaking to Christian groups is one of my favorite things in the world. It’s so much fun!
I just posted three different videos of presentations I gave in the last few weeks at Christian colleges, so for those of you who might be thinking about having a speaker at your school/church/group, this is what you can expect. :)
I posted a description on each one, but for those of you who don’t like to scroll, here’s the quick explanation and index:
My friend Ron and I are Christians who disagree with each other about how the church should approach the question of homosexuality, but we respect each other’s faith and have been friends for years. We recently spoke together at Pepperdine for two nights. Afterwards, I spoke alone in Abilene, home of several Christian colleges.
- Pepperdine night 1 - Ron and I share our stories and talk about how weagree. This is a really important starting place for Christians on this issue.
- Pepperdine night 2 - Ron and I discuss the Bible and how wedisagree. This is the most serious of the presentations.
- Abilene presentation - This one is just me (without Ron). It’s loosely based on the information from the “Pepperdine night 1” presentation, but with a few new jokes and tidbits thrown in.
Feel free to watch and share!
In my last post, I posted a video of Ron and me speaking about the ways we agree. On our second night of presentations at Pepperdine, we talked about how we disagree on the Bible’s view of sexuality. But instead of arguing for our own positions, we decided to try a twist: Ron argued for my position and I argued for his.
(Night 2 of the two nights of presentations at Pepperdine.)
My friend Ron and I are two Christians with different views about what the church’s approach to homosexuality should be. Here’s a fun presentation we gave a few weeks ago at Pepperdine University (a school affiliated with the Church of Christ) about the ways we agree.
(This was night 1 of two nights of presentations by Ron and me.)
Hey, that’s not really a compromise!
One of the issues I frequently encounter in conversations about controversial issues is what I call the “false compromise.” (There is a related logical fallacy called “false compromise,” but here I’m using the term in a way that is slightly different.)
Stick with me on this; I’m about to get all philosophical on you.
False compromises can exist whenever one side makes an exclusive claim about what is true or good and the other side makes a non-exclusive claim, but then offers to “compromise” with a similarly non-exclusive claim.
For example, let’s say that Alice and Bob are having an argument.
“I believe that Jesus is the only way to God,” says Alice. “Without Jesus, our sins would separate all of us from God. No other path to God can get you there without Jesus.”
Bob disagrees. “There are lots of religions in the world,” he says, “and they offer a number of different, equally valid paths to God. Jesus is one path to God, but not the only one.”
The two of them argue back and forth. Alice continues to argue that Jesus is the way, and Bob argues that Jesus is one way of many.
Finally, Bob attempts a compromise. “Well, how about we meet in the middle. Maybe Jesus is the only path for you, but he’s not the only path for me.”
In Bob’s mind, that’s a reasonable compromise. In Alice’s mind, it isn’t.
Why? Because it isn’t really a compromise at all. It’s actually just another version of the position Bob already held.
See, Bob already believed that there were multiple valid paths to God. By suggesting separate paths for himself and Alice, he’s continuing to believe that. So this “compromise” doesn’t require him to change his mind about anything; it’s just another way of saying something he already believed. By contrast, this “compromise” flies in the face of what Alice stands for, which is that there is only one valid path to God, a path that applies to everyone on the planet, including Bob.
That “compromise” isn’t really a compromise. It’s a false compromise that makes Bob feel good about himself while making Alice look like the extremist jerk when she rejects his proposed compromise. But it was never really a fair suggestion to begin with.
Another example: In the homosexuality debate, there are two basic positions. One (“Side A”) argues that we should celebrate loving, committed relationships regardless of gender. The other (“Side B”) argues that sex is designed to be between a man and a woman. In other words, Side A says that gay sex is acceptable (within the right context), and Side B says that it’s never acceptable, because it’s inherently sinful.
I used to be on Side B, and now I’m on Side A. But I often hear my fellow Side-Aers try to suggest a “compromise” position to the other side: “Well, how about we just agree that gay sex would be wrong for the people on Side B, but it’s not wrong for those of us on Side A.”
See, that’s not really a compromise. That’s really a Side A position.
As a Side A Christian, it’s easy for me to say, “I also respect the consciences of those who believe God calls them to celibacy.” I can do that without abandoning my Side A beliefs. It’s much harder for someone who is Side B to do the same for me, because they believe that gay sex is sinful for everyone; that’s part of what Side B means. So asking both sides to agree that the other’s approach is “right for them” isn’t really fair; it’s really biased in favor of Side A.
I hear about these sorts of false compromises all the time, and the group on the exclusive end of one issue may be on the non-exclusive end of another.
For instance, if I believe that ex-gay therapy is inherently harmful, then no, I don’t think it’s a “fair compromise” to say that it should be offered “only to those who want it.” Similar false compromises show up on questions about whether we should teach things as fact in schools (like evolution or the Holocaust). The same person who is irritated by Bob’s false compromise on multiple paths to God might not see any problem with a false compromise on teaching multiple theories of creation in school, and vice versa.
So in any given issue, whether you’re on the side of exclusivity or the side of non-exclusivity, keep in mind that not all compromises are really compromises. (And if you disagree with me on this, let’s meet in the middle and just agree that I’m right.)
On Tuesday…
…I’m going to be a guest speaker at an InterVarsity Christian Fellowship group on Grove City College campus.
I’m kinda freaking out. In a good way.
Grove City College is a conservative Christian institution. Their LGBT student group, Rainbow Bridge, has been denied official recognition and is not allowed to even put up fliers advertising off-campus get-togethers. The Princeton Review currently ranks Grove City as the #2 most “LGBT-unfriendly” college in the country out of their list of top schools. (Only Wheaton, another Christian college, is ranked more unfriendly to LGBT students.)
Likewise, InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, a popular and widespread Christian campus organization, doesn’t have such a great reputation with LGBT students. As I understand it, the organization’s official position is that gay sex is sinful but that merely being gay (attracted to the same sex) is not. However, I’ve spoken to a number of students who tell me that in many chapters, that’s not the message they’re hearing. Many students tell me that merely identifying as gay was enough to get them ostracized in IV and other similar groups. Then, of course, there’s been controversy in the past when IV leaders were asked to step down if they identified as gay and/or expressed doubt about the organization’s position on homosexuality.
So it’s kind of amazing to me that I’ve been invited to speak to an IVCF group on Grove City College campus, as a representative of The Gay Christian Network.
Not only that; I’ve been asked to speak specifically about why I’ve come to different conclusions on this issue as a Christian.
This is pretty darn amazing to me, and it represents something important. The students in these institutions want to understand those who disagree with them. I’m not being invited in order to change minds about what the Bible says; rather, I’m being invited to build some bridges and increase understanding between two groups of people who have become increasingly suspicious of one another.
Do you know how rare it is for a group to invite a speaker to talk about an issue they don’t agree with him on, just to broaden their understanding of another group of people? Folks, that almost never happens. Major, major kudos to the IVCF students at GCC for boldly reaching out in love.
And that puts the burden on me to show that level of respect right back. This isn’t my chance to be subversive and make shocking statements to shake things up. No, this is my opportunity to respectfully help this group of students better understand those who disagree with them, and offer them ways they can build bridges even in the midst of their disagreement.
Those of you who are Christians, I’d appreciate your prayers. If this goes well, it could really open some doors.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go do my happy dance.
“But I believe sexual immorality is wrong!” “Um… me too.”
As the executive director of The Gay Christian Network, I get to talk to a lot of LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender) Christians every day. I get to hear about their faith, their joys, and also their biggest frustrations.
Today, I’d like to talk about one of the most common frustrations I hear from them over and over again.
When someone comes out to their friends or family as gay (or bi or trans) and Christian, it can be a very difficult step for them. Often, their (well-meaning) friends or family members respond in ways that are unintentionally hurtful. We examined some of those ways in our film Through My Eyes.
Non-Christians tell us we’re foolish to belong to a religion that doesn’t want us. Christians quote Bible verses from Leviticus or 1 Corinthians, imagining that we’ve never read them. (Hint: we have, and many of us spent years agonizing over how to interpret them in light of our experience.) People on all sides make a lot of assumptions about us and what we believe.
But for many people I talk to, the most frustrating response of all is when they try to explain themselves, only to have a Christian friend or relative say something like this:
“I love you, and I know this is hard for you. But I believe that what God says matters more than what feels good. All of us sometimes have to put our own desires aside to serve God. I might have a desire to cheat on my wife or look at porn, but part of being a Christian is turning from sin, and that’s what I do and what you have to do, too.”
It’s good Christian theology, right? So what’s wrong with that?
These Christians no doubt believe that they are compassionately holding a loved one accountable. What they often don’t realize is just how condescending this sounds from the other side.
See, those of us who are committed Christians already know that turning from sin is important. We are already seeking to follow God with our lives. The issue isn’t that we believe sin is okay or that we think our own feelings matter more than God; the issue is that we don’t agree on what the right or wrong thing to do in the given situation is. We don’t agree on whether the behavior in question is sinful, or what God is calling us to do in the present circumstances.
The committed Christian who is in a gay relationship isn’t in that relationship because he thinks “God’s Word doesn’t matter” or that it’s “okay to sin.” Not at all! He’s in that relationship because he believes God has called him to it and that the Bible passages used to condemn gay relationships have been misinterpreted.
Now maybe you believe he’s wrong. Fair enough. Maybe he is. But if he’s wrong, he’s sincerely wrong. He’s doing what he honestly believes is right.
In another blog post, I imagined a situation where one Christian preaches at another for praying with her head uncovered, uncharitably assuming that she must not believe the Bible if she was ignoring what Paul said on the subject. I got some strong reactions from that one. It’s immediately obvious to us all that the woman in question isn’t ignoring the Bible; she just interprets those passages differently. It’s frustrating to us and to her, then, when someone assumes she’s just deliberately ignoring it. But what we may not realize as quickly is that that same condescending attitude is behind the paragraph I quoted above.
Gay Christians, just like straight Christians, believe in avoiding sin. We believe in putting God’s will first, not our own. We also condemn sexual immorality, and we seek to live our lives in the way that is most pleasing to God. If we disagree about whether a particular relationship or response is sinful, it’s not because we’ve stopped believing in avoiding sin and therefore need to be reminded.
Certainly, let’s talk about the reasons we disagree and how we came to our respective conclusions. But first, let’s give each other the benefit of the doubt and assume that we’ve both done a lot of thinking about this and are honestly trying to live rightly. That can go a long way to building healthy relationships in the midst of disagreement.
Heads, I win; tails, you lose: 5 spiritual flip-flops Christians must avoid.
Remember the other day, when I wrote about Trendianity, Christianity’s copycat cousin? One way you can distinguish the two is when a disagreement arises.
Genuine, gospel-focused Christianity should lead us to be gracious in disagreement (Romans 14). In some situations, that means agreeing to disagree, while in others, we may be called to take a firm stand on something. When we do take a firm stand, I believe we’re called to do so in a way that is humble and gracious, demonstrating our love for the other person and our understanding of their position, even while carefully explaining where our own views differ and why.
Trendianity doesn’t bother with all of that. Trendianity has no room for humility or the possibility that I’m fallible and might have made a mistake. Trendianity insists only that I know I’m right and that I’m willing to resort to unfair, oversimplified arguments to win the debate at all costs.
One of Trendianity’s favorite tricks is like an old comedy routine about flipping a coin: “Heads, I win; tails, you lose.” In other words, whichever side of an argument I’m on, Trendianity has an overly simplistic argument I can use to “win” by pretending to be more spiritual than the other person.
Here are five scenarios where Trendianity stacks the deck with unfair spiritual trump cards. I’ll bet you’ve heard some of these before.
Scenario #1:
Someone gets a flat tire on the way to an event.
Trendianity Asks: Was it an event I approve of?
- Yes - “Well there you go; that’s proof you were doing the right thing, because the devil’s trying to stop you.”
- No - “Well there you go; that’s proof you were doing the wrong thing, and God’s trying to get your attention.”
Scenario #2:
Someone quotes a Bible passage to make a theological point.
Trendianity Asks: Do I agree with their point?
- Yes - “It’s right there, in black and white. If you disagree, you’re not just disagreeing with us; you’re disagreeing with God. God said it; I believe it; that settles it.”
- No - “That doesn’t mean anything. Even the devil can quote Scripture.”
Scenario #3:
In a disagreement about the right thing to do or believe, one person feels a strong internal conviction about the right way to go.
Trendianity Asks: Is that person me, or someone disagreeing with me?
- It’s me - “I’ve prayed about this, and the Holy Spirit has shown me the right answer. You can’t argue with what the Spirit says.”
- It’s someone else - “The Bible says that the heart is deceitful and untrustworthy. You can’t rely on your feelings in a situation like this; that’s just your heart leading you astray.”
Scenario #4:
Someone is questioning a church tradition or longstanding belief.
Trendianity Asks: Do I agree with the tradition?
- Yes - “How can you go against 2,000 years of the wisdom of the church? Do you think you’re better than all the great Christian thinkers who came before you?”
- No - “Traditions are just man-made. What really matters is what the Bible and/or Holy Spirit says about this, and if that contradicts the tradition then so be it.”
Scenario #5:
A controversial issue is being discussed, and someone brings up a Bible passage. On the surface, the passage would seem to make one point, but many Christians argue for an alternate understanding.
Trendianity Asks: Do I agree with the surface reading, or with the alternate reading?
- Alternate reading - “You have to understand this passage in context. It’s actually talking about [insert historical explanation here]. It doesn’t apply in the same way to Christians today.”
- Surface reading - “The Bible is written so we can understand it. Why would God allow this passage be here if it didn’t mean what it seems to mean on the surface? God wouldn’t want to confuse us.”
A few final words:
Some of these arguments do have a legitimate place in Christian theology. For instance, some passages do need to be read in proper historical context to be understood, and the heart can be deceitful and untrustworthy. The issue here isn’t with those ideas themselves; it’s with their use as simplistic trump cards to “prove” that I’m right and you’re wrong. In reality, the questions of whether historical context changes the meaning of a passage or whether someone’s inner feelings are deceitful are often challenging questions that deserve more than bumper-sticker slogans. These kinds of discussions require careful examination of all the facts and the humble acknowledgement that I might be wrong even when I’m sure I’m right.
Why is it important for us to avoid flippantly using these kinds of arguments? Because this is precisely what discredits Christianity in the eyes of non-Christians. If Christians use these kinds of arguments, it only lends legitimacy to the idea that Christianity is built on self-serving logic, when in fact this approach isn’t Christian at all.
Can you think of more of these unfair flip-flops? Share yours in the comments.


