Questions from Christians #2: “Why do gay people want to redefine marriage? What’s their real goal?”
Part 2 in my series of questions Christians ask about gay people.
(The image is of Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon, the first same-sex couple to legally marry in San Francisco. At the time of their civil marriage, they had been together for more than 50 years.)
First, let’s get four things out of the way, because I know people will bring them up.
- There’s a difference between civil marriage and church marriage. C.S. Lewis famously said that Christians shouldn’t try to make the government’s definition of marriage match the Christian definition of marriage, because not everyone is a Christian.
- Marriage, as a civil institution, has been defined many different ways. Adam and Eve had no wedding ceremony. King Solomon had hundreds of wives. Until 1967, many states outlawed interracial marriage. To this day, different parts of the world define marriage differently. (This doesn’t mean that all those definitions are equally valid in a Christian sense, of course. I think some of them are pretty terrible.)
- Not all gay people are in favor of marriage for same-sex couples. Some gay Christians, for instance, believe gay people are called to celibacy. Other gay people view marriage as an outdated or heterosexist institution. Some think the government should get out of the marriage business altogether.
- Many of my readers have a moral objection to gay relationships. But they still ask me to explain why civil marriage is so important to gay couples. That’s what this post is about.
For the sake of today’s post, let’s consider a gay couple who do want to get married. (Let’s call them, oh, Adam and Steve. Why not.) Furthermore, just for the sake of argument, let’s assume that Adam and Steve aren’t Christians, and that their primary interest is in having a legally recognized civil marriage, not a church marriage.
Our question today is: Why? Why do they want to get married? Why isn’t it enough for them to just have their relationship as it is?
Well, the easiest way I can answer that question is by showing you a quick video about a real-life gay couple, whose names are actually David and Jason. Take a look:
Seriously, give it a watch before you read the rest. It’s short, and I promise, it’s worth it if you really want to understand.
Did you watch it? Powerful, right? I can’t make it through the last half without tearing up. You don’t have to agree with these guys in order to understand their pain.
Let me tell you another true story.
Years ago, a friend of mine (I’ll call him John) met the love of his life (I’ll call him Ricky). The two of them dated, fell in love, and decided to get married. Because legal marriage wasn’t an option for them and because neither of their families supported their decision, they made a promise between the two of them, moved in together, and began their life together, lovingly and selflessly supporting one another.
Put aside whatever images you may have of the stereotypical toned, young, sex-obsessed gay guys who spend all their time clubbing and partying. No, these guys were just real people—one legally blind, the other an overweight diabetic—who lived quiet lives and were there for each other in ways no one else could be. This was love, not lust.
Sadly, Ricky (the diabetic) had some severe heart problems, and John came home one day to find Ricky unconscious. He called 911, and the ambulance came to rush Ricky to the hospital. But at the hospital, as Ricky lay dying, John wasn’t allowed into the room to see him, because their marriage wasn’t legally recognized, and he wasn’t considered “family.” Ricky had given John legal power of attorney for making his medical decisions, but John didn’t have the paperwork handy, and when Ricky’s biological family arrived, they kept John out of the room even though he had been Ricky’s only real family for quite some time.
John wasn’t able to be in the room when the love of his life passed away. He was only allowed in later, after Ricky’s death, once the biological family had left. Ricky’s body was covered in a sheet, with his feet left uncovered.
“I didn’t know what to do,” John told me later through sobs. “I wasn’t able to be there when he died. And I hated seeing him like that, with his feet uncovered. He had bad circulation and had always complained about his feet being cold, and I was the only one he ever let touch his feet. So I sat there by his body and rubbed his feet for a while and talked to him, as if he were still there. Then I took the sheet and covered up his feet. I didn’t know what else to do.”
The family didn’t allow John to attend the service at the gravesite, and they laid claim to Ricky’s belongings. In the end, it didn’t matter that Ricky had chosen to spend his years with John; in the eyes of the law, he was just “a friend.”
Why do some gay people want civil marriage rights so badly? Because of stories like these. It’s not just a symbol or a political maneuver or an “agenda.” It’s about keeping their families together, in life and in death, just as it is for straight couples.
So when the Supreme Court decision is made this month, whatever it may be, think about Ricky and John, and David and Jason, and all the other same-sex couples out there, and you may understand a little more about why this decision matters so much to them.
You might also have a hint of why, when American Christians are so vocally opposed to granting them those civil protections on the basis of our religious beliefs, it makes many gay people even less interested in hearing anything Christians have to say.
C.S. Lewis on civil marriage vs. church marriage.
As we wait for a Supreme Court ruling about marriage, I’m thinking about one of my favorite quotes from Christian author C.S. Lewis.
Lewis was very opposed to divorce, and in his book Mere Christianity, he argued that Christians shouldn’t consider divorce an option. But then he said this:
Before leaving the question of divorce, I should like to distinguish two things which are very often confused. The Christian conception of marriage is one: the other is the quite different question - how far Christians, if they are voters or Members of Parliament, ought to try to force their views of marriage on the rest of the community by embodying them in the divorce laws. A great many people seem to think that if you are a Christian yourself you should try to make divorce difficult for everyone. I do not think that. At least I know I should be very angry if the Mohammedans tried to prevent the rest of us from drinking wine. My own view is that the Churches should frankly recognise that the majority of the British people are not Christians and, therefore, cannot be expected to live Christian lives. There ought to be two distinct kinds of marriage: one governed by the State with rules enforced on all citizens, the other governed by the Church with rules enforced by her on her own members. The distinction ought to be quite sharp, so that a man knows which couples are married in a Christian sense and which are not.
Wise words.
The next entry in my series on questions Christians ask about gay people is on this very subject. Watch for it!
Questions from Christians #1: “Doesn’t the Bible say it’s a sin to be gay?”
This is by far the most common question I get about faith and sexuality. It’s a huge, complicated question, but people always want a short, simple answer.
You want short? Okay, here goes.
Question:
Doesn’t the Bible say it’s a sin to be gay?
Short Answer:
No.
That’s the most concise answer I can give. Pretty simple. But in case you’d like a little more, here’s a slightly less short answer.
Slightly Less Short Answer:
No, the Bible doesn’t say it’s a sin to be gay. Being gay just means someone is attracted to the same gender.* The Bible never mentions this. It mentions sex, not attractions.
The real debate is about whether the Bible says it’s a sin to have gay sex. Some Christians get confused and think this is the same thing as debating whether it’s a sin to be gay, but those are very different questions. One is up for debate. The other isn’t.
Still want more? Here’s an even less short answer.
Even Less Short Answer:
Okay. [deep breath]
Being “straight” doesn’t necessarily mean you’re having sex, right? You could be straight (attracted to the opposite gender) and still waiting for marriage, for instance. You might not be dating anyone. You might never date or have sex with anyone. You might even commit yourself to lifelong celibacy. None of that changes the fact that you’re straight, if you’re attracted to the opposite gender.
The same is true for gay people. I’m gay, but that doesn’t mean I’m having sex, or that I ever have had sex, or that I ever will have sex. It’s very important to understand this, because while I can choose whether to have sex, I cannot choose what my orientation is. I’m still gay either way.
The difference between “being gay” and “having gay sex” is a SUPER IMPORTANT DISTINCTION, and when Christians fail to make this distinction, they’ve already failed in their quest to communicate with gay people. It’s a subject I’ve addressed many times before. And it matters.
I know that part is old news to many of you, but for some people…
So what about the Bible?
Well, the Bible never mentions orientation. At all.
The Bible does, however, mention sinful examples of gay sex:
Old Testament
- In Genesis (the Sodom story) and Judges (the Gibeah story), we are told about angry mobs who threaten to gang rape unwelcome male strangers.
- In Leviticus, male-male sex is forbidden as part of a list of rules given to the Israelites.
New Testament
- In Romans, Paul describes a group of people who engage in idolatry and are given over by God to “shameful” same-gender sexual practices.
- In 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy, Paul uses the Greek word arsenokoitai (“homosexual offenders”) in a list of sinners.
This has led to two different interpretations.
Some Christians believe that the Bible condemns gay sex and that gay Christians are therefore called to lifelong celibacy. This is sometimes called a Side B view.
Other Christians believe that these passages only deal with specific cultural issues like rape and idolatry, and that they don’t condemn loving gay relationships in today’s society. It’s similar to how most Christians today don’t believe women have to wear head coverings (1 Cor. 11:5-6) or remain silent in church (1 Cor. 14:34), believing those passages to be tied to a very different culture from ours. This is sometimes called a Side A view.
Christians on Side A and Side B disagree on gay sex and relationships, but they should be able to agree that the Bible never condemns simply being gay.
So there you go, three different short answers to that question. If you’d like a longer, more in-depth analysis of my own personal view, here are some places you can find it. And keep watching, as I continue to address more common Christian questions in my new series!
* For the sake of simplicity, in this post I’ve used the word “gender” to refer to one’s maleness/femaleness and “sex” to refer to sexual activity. No angry letters please, gender studies majors; I know it can be more complex than that.
Okay, I’m slightly obsessed with Clue.
Sometimes on blogs like this, we spend so much time talking about ideas that we forget to focus on each other’s humanity. But we’re all just people with our own weird quirks.
One of my weird quirks is that I’m really into Clue—the mystery board game. You know, Mrs. Peacock with the candlestick and all that. I’ve loved it since I was a kid. I even started collecting different versions of the game. (Also, I probably know the movie dialogue from start to finish.)
Want to see what I’ve collected so far? Click here and take a peek.
None of this has anything to do with my faith, my sexuality, or anything else I write about here. It’s just part of what makes me… me.
What about you? Do you have weird quirks or hobbies? And what do you think of my Clue collection? Let me know in the comments.
My, but this was a fun interview. On this week’s podcast (and yes, my GCN Radio podcast has officially moved to Wednesdays!), I interviewed Lillian Daniel, pastor, HuffPost blogger, and author of When “Spiritual But Not Religious” Is Not Enough.
We joked around, and she made me laugh multiple times, but I also got to ask her about some tough subjects, like, “How do you respond to the claim that religion is responsible for war and hate?” and “What about when you pray for someone’s health and they die anyway?”
You can hear her responses by clicking the listen/download links above, or by visiting the GCN Radio page.
(Now I just have to figure out how to edit this Tumblr theme so it doesn’t make people look like their faces are missing…)
Invisible.
One of my all-time favorite TV shows was the workplace comedy Better Off Ted—which is probably the worst name I’ve ever seen for such a funny show. (Until I actually saw the show, I mistakenly imagined it was about dead people, like Dead Like Me or Pushing Daisies. It’s not.)
Better Off Ted was a pitch-perfect satire of big corporate culture, epitomized by Portia de Rossi’s character Veronica, Ted’s boss. Veronica is the queen of business-speak, representing the company’s Powers That Be and putting the company line above all else.
In one episode, Ted learns to his horror that his company has installed new motion sensors on doors, elevators, lights, and even drinking fountains to save energy, but with one big problem: the new system fails to sense people with dark skin. Ted confronts Veronica on the issue:
TED
The system doesn’t see black people?VERONICA
I know, weird, huh?TED
That’s more than weird, Veronica. That’s basically—well, racist.VERONICA
The company’s position is that it’s actually the opposite of racist because it’s not targeting black people; it’s just ignoring them. They insist the worst people can call it is ‘indifferent.’TED
Well, they know it has to be fixed. Right? Please? At least say they know that?VERONICA
Of course they do, and they’re working on it. In the meantime, they’d like to remind everyone to celebrate the fact that it does see Hispanics, Asians, Pacific Islanders, and Jews.
Bwahahahaha!!! I laughed so hard at this scene the first time I saw it.
Actually, I’m still laughing. Hahaha! Haha! Ha! Ha! Oooh, but there’s a sting in there, too, isn’t there?
As I went back to show it to a friend, something occurred to me: This is how a lot of churches sound when they talk about gay people.
I’ve been in a lot of churches that think they’re doing a great job with “the gay issue” because they don’t hate gay people. They say things like this: “Oh, of course gays would be welcome here! We rarely mention homosexuality in our sermons, and we don’t single it out above any other sin.”
And, true, these churches aren’t Westboro. They don’t say “God hates fags” or focus on homosexuality. But not hating someone isn’t the same thing as truly welcoming them.
Imagine if I invited you to a party at my house, but when you got there, you discovered that everyone else was part of the same club, and we spent the entire evening discussing club jokes and activities that you weren’t part of, making no attempt to include you in the discussion. You might not feel hated, but you certainly wouldn’t feel welcomed.
As a gay person in many congregations, you quickly begin to feel invisible at best. There are plenty of church programs, classes, and sermon illustrations for heterosexual couples, but nothing that addresses your unique concerns and needs. You’re invited to attend and contribute money, but you’d never be allowed in leadership. And, truth be told, while no one would publicly admit it, many members of the congregation are clearly rather uncomfortable around LGBTs. They’ll smile at you during the morning greeting, but they won’t invite you to join them for lunch afterward.
These churches have their hearts in the right place. They want to be loving, and they honestly believe that because they don’t preach hellfire and brimstone, any gay person should feel completely at home in their church.
But—and I’ve heard this too many times from too many people—for many gay folks, these churches come across sounding a little too much like Veronica: We’re the opposite of prejudiced! We’re not targeting gay people; we’re just ignoring them.
Here’s an article on celibate gay Christians.
Rarely, outside of my work with GCN, do I hear anyone talk about what we call “Side B” celibate gay Christians—those who are attracted to the same sex but believe it would be wrong for them to act on those desires.
Today, Yahoo has an article up on that very subject.
It’s short, but I think it fairly represents the struggles such individuals endure, caught between the “Side A” gay world (embracing gay relationships) and the so-called “ex-gay” world.
Are you an aspiring author? Are you interested in the publishing world? Or are you just looking for something to read this summer?
If any of these are true of you, you won’t want to miss my podcast this week, as I interview Wendy Grisham, head of progressive Christian publisher Jericho Books.
This week, we discuss:
- Wendy’s advice for aspiring authors about how to get a publisher’s attention (and how not to);
- My confession about why I feel intimidated by people who say they love to read;
- Suggestions for moving, funny, and insightful books to add to your summer reading list;
- And more!
Give it a listen with the links above, or subscribe/download on the GCN Radio homepage.
I’m working on a series.
Hey, you guys, I had an idea for a blog post series, and you can help me.
I’ve decided to write a series of posts to address some of the most common questions I get asked by straight Christians about being gay and Christian.
You know, questions like:
- “Isn’t calling yourself a gay Christian like calling yourself an adulterous Christian?”
- “Why do you have gay pride parades? We don’t have straight pride parades.”
- “Shouldn’t your identity be only in Christ, and not in your sexuality?”
I bet many of you can think of more questions you’ve either heard from others or wondered about yourself. Suggest your favorites in the comments below (or use Tumblr’s built-in response feature) and I’ll add my favorites to the list.
My goal is to answer each question in a separate post and link them all from a single place to make the answers easy to find.
What common questions do YOU think I should answer?
Why I’m glad I lost my innocence.
I just saw The Great Gatsby this week. And—what do you know!—I rather enjoyed it.
As a kid, I had to read the novel in English class, and I hated it. I think this is for at least 3 reasons:
1. It had an ugly cover. (Yes, I know it’s considered a work of art. I thought it was ugly and creepy.)
2. Every book is worse when you’re forced to speed-read it in between mountains of homework and then be tested on it. Tests make even Dr. Seuss stressful. Heck, I’d probably even hate my own book if I had to be tested on it.
3. I, um, might have skimmed some parts. Or not actually finished it.
There’s another reason. As a kid, I was horrified by stories about people doing bad things, and Gatsby is full of them: cheating on spouses, lying, covering up crimes, and way too much partying. When I read stories like this, I couldn’t get past my disgust at people’s sin to dig deep enough for any serious analysis.
But then I grew up. And today, I can appreciate stories like this for what they are—tragic, sometimes frustrating, other times illuminating portraits of human beings in all our complexity.
In real life, people make bad decisions. They lie. They cheat. They sin. They are human. And the stories I preferred as a child, where the “good guys” always make the right decisions and evil is something out there somewhere instead of in us, just don’t reflect reality.
Yes, as I’ve grown, there’s been a sense of innocence lost. I’ve realized that the people I always looked up to aren’t perfect. My family’s not perfect. I’m not perfect.
I mean, it’s not that I ever thought I was literally perfect. But as a kid, the knowledge of my own sinfulness seemed more like something I knew in theory, as a matter of theology, but not something I frequently experienced. I knew I’d sinned, but my sins were (it seemed) of the small variety—failing to do a homework assignment and not wanting to tell my parents, for instance. In theory, I knew we were all sinners, all equally fallen, but I still had secret lines I’d draw between the small sins I’d committed (and had asked forgiveness for) and the big sins only other people committed.
Because, see, I was a good Christian. I was better than them.
My biggest sin, undoubtedly, was pride—quite possibly the biggest sin there is, theologically speaking, but one that doesn’t seem so bad. Pride is a sin good Christians can commit and still think of themselves as good Christians. But there were certain lines I’d never cross, certain sins I’d never commit. Because if you crossed those lines, you might be forgiven, but you’d never be like me or the “good Christians” I looked up to.
Well, I’m 35. And I’ve crossed at least three of the major lines I said I’d never cross. (No, I’m not going to tell you which ones.) I’m more fully aware today than ever that I am a sinful person. Forgiven, but sinful. But forgiven.
I’ve lost my innocence—not just about myself, but about how the world works. I know now that the people I always looked up to aren’t as perfect as I’d imagined, that even good people can make really bad decisions.
Today, I can watch a film like Gatsby and instead of seeing bad people, I see just people—people driven by human emotions and desires, making bad decisions as we all do and reaping the consequences of their choices. I realize that this is the world we live in, and that the people who make such bad choices are essentially just like me. We’re emotional, broken, messy human beings with messy lives in a messy world. The evil isn’t out there, some wicked queen or fire-breathing dragon; it’s in us. It comes from us. All of us. ALL of us.
And in some small way, I mourn my loss of innocence, but in a bigger way, I’m glad for it. It makes the world more complicated, but it gives me empathy for other people when they do bad things.
I can see them as human beings, and love them even though I see all of their sin.
Which, I think, is how God sees us all.
