Why a new blog?
I was tempted to title this post “Why a duck?” but I was afraid most people wouldn’t get the Marx Brothers reference. (If you would have, you get a hundred bonus points. Bonus points can be redeemed for prizes at your local Chuck E. Cheese. Or not.)
Some of the reasons for this new blog will become clearer over the coming weeks, and I’m not going to spoil everything in the first post. (Actually, I’m not allowed to spoil everything yet. I’ll explain as soon as I can.) But for now, I can tell you that there are two primary reasons I’m starting this blog.
Reason #1: Justin is not GCN
It’s been ten years since I founded The Gay Christian Network (GCN), a nonprofit organization serving LGBT Christians and those who love them. Today, our online community has nearly 20,000 members, but ten years ago, there were just a dozen or so of us, all seeking support after having felt abandoned by our churches and Christian friends. Back then, GCN was just an internet hobby of mine. Now it’s my full-time job.
I love my work with GCN now as much as I ever did. I hope to continue doing that work for a long time to come. But I’ve come to realize that it’s important for me to have a public identity separate from GCN’s.
When we talk about issues relating to LGBT Christians, there are a lot of complexities involved: ex-gay ministries, theological disagreements, sexual ethics, and the like. I think we need to be able to explore these topics, but I often can’t explore them in my role as GCN’s executive director without risking upsetting someone or making it appear as if the organization is taking a stand when it’s really just my personal opinion.
On this blog, then, we can feel free to explore topics that might not belong on GCN’s website, and I will be more open to expressing my personal opinion on things that I might not express in the same way in my GCN role. Everything I say on this blog is my personal opinion. Unless I indicate otherwise, nothing I say here is a reflection of the organization; it reflects only me.
Not to worry; I won’t be using this space to say things that I think would be likely to cause any problems for the organization. It’s just that it’s helpful to have a separate space where I can make it clear that I’m expressing my own opinion and not speaking for anyone else.
Reason #2: Big projects ahead
The other major reason for this blog is that I’m getting ready to embark on a couple of very interesting projects, and I thought it would be cool to have a space where I could share those journeys with you.
For instance, in a week and a half, I’ll be speaking at the first in a series of 40 events at 20 different universities, designed to help improve the nature of the conversation between gays and Christians. My plan is to post photos and stories from those events here, as well as to tell you about the interesting conversations I have on the road and the evidence I see of changed lives.
Then there’s this other secret, super cool project… but if you want those details, you’ll have to subscribe and wait for the announcement.
So welcome to the new blog. What do you think of the idea? Share your thoughts in the comments.
It seems to be a fact that you suffer as much from the Church as for it….
Are evangelicals unreachable?
“Evangelical” has become a bad word in American society today, and a lot of people don’t even know what it means!
The term refers to Christians who emphasize a personal relationship with Jesus, who believe that eternal salvation comes only through his death and resurrection, and who hold a very “high view” of the Bible as a guide for Christian faith and practice.
The word “evangelical” comes from the Greek for “good news,” and evangelicals strongly believe that the Christian message is good news: God loves us! God’s own Son died for us! Whoever you are, whatever you’ve done, God will forgive you for your sins and give you eternal life if you ask! This is the “good news” evangelicals are named for, and it’s what motivates evangelicals to want to “evangelize,” or share the good news with others.
Among Protestants, “evangelical” denominations (such as Southern Baptists and Assemblies of God) are often contrasted with “mainline” denominations (such as United Methodists and Episcopalians). It’s an awkward classification, because it’s not really that simple. There are plenty of people and churches in mainline denominations who might fit the description of evangelicals, and since most of the growth in American Protestantism is in evangelical churches, it’s no longer true that mainline churches are the mainstream.
But anyway. Enough of the terminology lesson. Back to my point.
Evangelicals make up a huge portion of American Christianity today, and they are among the most passionate people you could ever meet when it comes to the good news of God’s grace for everyone. So why does everyone think that evangelicals are unreachable with a message of grace to LGBT people?
I hear it all the time. For many LGBT folks, progressive mainline Christians are the “good Christians,” and evangelicals are the “bad Christians”—hateful fundamentalist extremists who care about political power more than they do about people.
Oh yes, if you’re a straight evangelical, this is what people say about you. Our reputation is not a good one.
That’s right, I said “our.” Although I prefer to identify myself just as a Christian and stay out of the various boxes people want to put me in, the truth is that I’m an evangelical, too. And my biggest passion in life is talking to evangelicals about LGBT issues.
When they find out I’m an evangelical, people do not know what to make of me. Some of them make all kinds of (wrong) assumptions about my politics and theology. Others look at me like Dorothy looked at Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz.
A “good” evangelical? That can’t be real!
And when I tell people that my passion is to reach evangelicals with an LGBT-affirming message, they cluck their tongues and smile condescendingly as if I were a four-year-old who said he wanted to grow up to be Superman.
“Yeah. Good luck with that.”
But evangelicals are not unreachable with a message of grace and affirmation. Grace is built into the DNA of evangelicalism! The problem is that many evangelicals don’t understand what it’s like to be gay or trans, and they have a lot of misconceptions about the issue that we need to address. There are also vital Bible questions to discuss, but often it’s the misconceptions that get in the way of even having a helpful Bible conversation to begin with.
Evangelicalism is not a bad word. Evangelicals are not the enemy. In fact, I’d argue that an evangelical reading of the Bible amounts to the best “good news” LGBT people could ever want—if only we evangelicals would start being more consistent in practicing the grace we preach.
What do you think? Do you agree?
Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act.
Proverbs 3:27 (NIV)
In other words, being a Christian isn’t just about avoiding sin, it’s about avoiding complacency. We’re called not just to steer clear of the bad, but to intentionally seek out the opportunities to do good.
If you have ways to help others (and we all do), take advantage of them to do good for someone else today.
Hey, I’m on Rachel Held Evans’ blog!
For those of you who don’t know Rachel Held Evans, she’s a Christian author and blogger who has built a reputation for gently and patiently challenging preconceptions—both her own and others’. I got to interview her for a GCN Radio episode that hasn’t hit the podcast feed, but will soon.
Rachel’s been doing a really cool thing on her blog recently: a series of posts inviting her readers to “Ask an atheist,” “Ask an evolutionary creationist,” “Ask a Mormon,” “Ask a Calvinist,” and so forth. It’s an opportunity for her readers to ask sincere questions of those whose beliefs and experiences are different from their own.
I love the atmosphere Rachel encourages with these posts. She’s not claiming that everyone’s view is equally right; she makes it clear that she and many of her readers may often disagree with the views expressed by her guests. The point is to engage in respectful conversation—not only with those we agree with, but with those we strongly disagree with as well. And that, I feel certain, is exactly what Jesus would do.
As you might have guessed by now, Rachel asked me to make an appearance for a new “Ask a gay Christian” segment. Right now, her readers are cooking up a bunch of interesting questions for me; I can’t wait to see what they have to say!
Update: And here’s the follow-up post, where I answer Rachel’s readers’ questions!
A brief reflection on context.
Is that the most boring post title ever, or what? It sounds like a treatise on some obscure subject that you might find in a dusty old book on an untouched shelf in the back of a university library.
One of Stephen Covey’s famous 7 Habits is to “seek first to understand, then to be understood.” I’m a big believer in that. If you and I disagree about something, I’m going to have a much better chance of getting you to understand my position if I am first able to listen to you and understand your position, and only then explain myself in a way that uses your language and your culture.
Missionaries understand this. You wouldn’t go on a mission trip to a country that speaks a different language without first learning something about the language and culture, would you? If you weren’t able to learn the language well yourself, you’d be sure to have some kind of interpreter, I’d hope!
The same principles apply even in the same country. My LGBT friends and my evangelical Christian friends speak very different languages at times, and they don’t even realize it. “LGBT,” for instance, is a term that is much more widely used among my gay friends than among my straight Christian friends. Many of my Christian friends would simply say “gay” or even “homosexual.” In so doing, they’d likely be completely unaware that the term “homosexual” (as a noun) is widely considered offensive in the gay community. So what happens? The well-meaning Christian tries to reach out in love, says the wrong thing, and ends up getting his hand bitten off—all because of a cultural boo-boo.
As an individual, I operate in a lot of different cultures and contexts. I am well-known for speaking out on issues of Christianity and homosexuality, but I talk about those issues very differently when addressing a predominantly conservative Christian crowd than I do when addressing a predominantly LGBT crowd. It’s the same message, and I don’t change what I believe to fit the audience, but I do change the way I explain things, so that it will make more sense to the people I’m trying to reach.
(Okay, Justin, but what’s the point? You’re starting to get as long-winded as that book on the library’s back shelf. Why are we talking about this?)
Well, the implications of that reality really hit home for me over the last few days, when people who don’t know me started discovering this blog.
It’s a brand new blog, and I started it initially to speak to people who already know me. Many of the people I interact with are people who spend a lot of time talking about LGBT issues, so when I wrote a post recently asking “Are evangelicals unreachable?”, I was addressing the frustrations of some of my LGBT friends who don’t understand my evangelical roots and focus.
But of course, that title (and the related post) read very differently to an evangelical Christian who doesn’t know me, and with very little else on this blog to explain who I am or what I believe, it could leave a very different impression. (Yes, I am an evangelical! No, I don’t think you have to be pro-gay marriage in order to be a “good evangelical”!)
So to my many new Christian friends just discovering this blog for the first time, I hope you will stay and ask many questions over the weeks to come. From time to time, I may have to explain terms to one group of friends that the other group of friends uses without thinking (“What is the difference between ‘transgender’ and ‘transsexual’?” “What does ‘born again’ actually mean? Is that just another term for Christian fundamentalists?”), but I think if we’re all willing to step outside of our usual context from time to time, it can create some awesome opportunities for dialogue.
“I love you so much that I need to hit you with this Bible. Really, really hard.”
By far the most frustrating thing about having conversations on controversial issues is when people don’t know when to stop fighting.
It’s like going to play paintball with your friends, and then after the game is over, finding that someone won’t stop shooting.
“Whew! Well that was fun. Okay, let’s get this gear off and go get some coffee. There’s this great place over on— Ow!! Haha, okay, you got me one last time. Now let’s—Ow!! Hey! That hurts! Cut it out, man. OW! Dude! The game is over! OW!!! What the heck?! OW! STOP! OW!”
That person will not be invited to any future games.
There’s a time and a place in the world for debate. There are times to stand up and shout through a megaphone. But then there are times to put the debate aside, sit quietly together, and have a real conversation. It’s frustrating to try to have a conversation with someone who only seems interested in the former.
It irritates me the most when Christians do this, because it gives all of us a bad name. It’s especially damaging, because so many Christians cloak their attacks in loving language, when their approach is anything but loving.
“Sister, have you read First Corinthians 11:5?”
“Well, I—”
“Because I just saw you bow your head in prayer. Were you just bowing your head in prayer?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“So let me ask you this, sister, and I’m only asking because I love you and care about your immortal soul. What name do you pray in? Because I want to tell you about Jesus and save you from your reprobate ways and the fires of eternal damnation.”
“Um, I know Jesus. I’m a Christian. I was just—”
“Well then, sister, I must tell you that the Jesus you think you know is not the real, eternal King I know. Because the real Jesus commands that his disciples abide by his Word. Why do you think Jesus wouldn’t want you to abide by his Word? Where in the Bible do you see that it’s okay to not abide by his Word?”
“I never said that. I think—”
“The Bible clearly says in First Corinthians 11:15 that women must not pray with their heads uncovered, and your head is not covered, sister. So I’m asking you, why do you think you get a special pass to disregard the Scriptures and the rest of us still have to follow them? Or do you just think that the Bible doesn’t matter anymore?”
“Well, I’m not sure I agree with you on what that pass—”
“Sister, it’s not about agreeing with me or not agreeing with me. It’s about whether or not you agree with the Lord. And if you decide to continue turning your back on the Word of God, He will turn His back on you, and you will burn for all eternity. I’m just telling you this in all love, not an ounce of hate in my heart, sister, because God commanded me to share the truth, even if you don’t want to hear it. You need to get right with God, sister, before it’s too late.”
“Um… I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
If you’ve never been on the receiving end of a conversation like this, you’ll probably read this as a comic exaggeration to make a point. If you have, though, then you know that this doesn’t even scratch the surface of how real and painfully frustrating these conversations can be.
See, it’s complicated. As Christians, we are called to hold one another accountable. That means that if my pastor or best friend or child is doing something immoral or preaching something heretical, I do need to address it. As uncomfortable as it is, I need to be able to talk to the pastor about something he’s preached that I believe is in conflict with the Scriptures, or urge my best friend to stop cheating on his wife. All of us need people in our lives who can hold us accountable, and we need to be that person for other people.
But.
That doesn’t give me the right to try to hold the whole world, or even the whole church, accountable to what I believe. I have to earn the right to speak into people’s lives by being their friend first, and even then, it needs to be a conversation, not a lecture.
When we Christians fall into the trap of lecturing strangers on the internet or casual acquaintances about their sins, we may think we’re standing for the truth, but we’re actually acting out of pride—pride that says not only that I believe in the Bible, but that I believe in my own ability to perfectly understand and interpret the Bible and to always have the right answer for every situation. I’m failing to acknowledge that I might have made a mistake at any point along the way. I’m failing to show humility. I’m also failing to heed Jesus’ warning about judging the speck in my brother’s eye before I remove the plank from my own. (Of course, we all like to think that our neighbor’s speck is really a plank, and that our own planks are really specks, so we think we’re justified.)
Incidentally, Christians aren’t the only ones who do this. I have some nonreligious gay friends who are just as adept at beating people over the head with a pride flag as my Christian friends are at beating people over the head with their hardcover Bibles. We ALL do it. And we all notice it more when the other side does it.
Admit it, right now, you’re thinking more about times you’ve seen people on the other side do this than you are about times you’ve done it yourself. Are you reading this, thinking you’ve never made this mistake? We all have, and we all need to watch ourselves. Speck, plank.
Even when it is the right time to hold someone accountable or try to change someone’s mind, we need to know when it’s time to listen. I’m going to write another post on this soon, but in general, I think that listening to other people’s stories is a much more powerful way to get them to care what we think than lecturing them ever will be. People resist lectures. They tend to push back when lectured. But give them a chance to tell us their stories, and not only will they be more interested in hearing our perspective afterwards, but we’ll better understand their situation and be able to advise them.
I’m a guy who spends my life talking about some very controversial issues in the church. I have spent many years studying these issues, and I have strong opinions about them. I feel confident that I’m right. But I also know that I’m human and fallible, and I might have gotten some things wrong. That’s why I’m always eager to talk to people who disagree with me. I like being challenged, and I like being forced to defend or rethink my position. I don’t even mind a debate now and then, as long as it’s the right time and place. I learn new things all the time from people who challenge me.
But even though I like being challenged, I still hate it when people—on the internet or in person—come out swinging, with their talking points or Bible passages ready to use as weapons, asking me leading questions before they even know the first thing about me, what I actually believe, or how I came to those conclusions. Sure, they might even ask something like, “How did you come to this conclusion?” but it’s usually pretty obvious when they’re only asking me so that they can tell me why I’m wrong, not because they really have an interest in understanding me.
Here on this blog, I am happy to talk to people who disagree with me. Let’s engage. Let’s have a conversation. But first, let’s put down the paintball guns and grab a cup of virtual coffee. You tell me your stories, and I’ll tell you mine. There will be plenty of time later for us to talk about why we disagree.
So… cream and sugar?
Dear God, am I allowed to lie and say “insurance adjuster”?
I always get to have interesting conversations when people ask what I do for a living.
“I’m the executive director of The Gay Christian Network,” I say.
Hilarity ensues.
Well, maybe not hilarity, but something ensues, that’s for sure.
The responses I get are very varied.
Some people want to debate theology with me. “You know homosexuality is a sin, right?” they say.
Some people wonder aloud why gay people would ever “want to belong to a religion as oppressive as Christianity.”
Others instantly applaud me: “Oh good! The church needs more people like you!”
And then there are those—quite a lot of them—who just awkwardly try to change the subject as fast as they can: “Oh. Boy, the peanuts on this flight sure are salty!”
Just like that, all of these people have made certain assumptions about me, who I am, and what I believe. Sometimes, when I’m not in the mood to have that conversation, I’ll just tell people I work for “a nonprofit organization” and hope they don’t ask too many questions. Usually, they do anyway.
When I first started this blog, it didn’t occur to me to say much about myself, because the only people who knew about the blog were people who already knew me. Now that I’m getting traffic from elsewhere, I’m wondering what assumptions you might have made from seeing that I’m, yes, the executive director of The Gay Christian Network.
In some cases, I don’t have to wonder. I’ve already gotten quite a few messages from people that sounded remarkably like the conversation from my last post.
So in case you’re wondering, here are a few facts about me:
I’m a committed Christian. I believe in the Bible. I like to have my thinking challenged. My favorite color is blue. I have a genetic condition that caused me to lose my hair when I was 4. I’m not self-conscious about it at all, so make all the bald jokes you want. I love Boston cream pie. I hate shredded coconut. I don’t drink coffee, so when I “get coffee” with friends, I usually order hot chocolate. I like movies with twists in them, but only if the twists feel faithful to the characters. I also like board games; my favorite is Clue. (Incidentally, it’s also one of my favorite movies.) I know way more than I have any right to know about Walt Disney World. I feel guilty when I get terrible pop songs stuck in my head. I don’t sing in the shower, but I do sing in the car. And dance. The preceding notwithstanding, I am actually a safe driver.
Of course, none of that is the reason you’re here. You didn’t really come here to learn about my favorite movies or what songs are playing on my iPod. You’re probably here because I like to write about theology, dealing with issues like Christianity’s reputation in our culture and what it means to love someone even when you believe they’re 100% wrong. If that’s why you’re here, then let me tell you what you can expect from me on those subjects.
I DO plan to do a lot of writing about Christian theology and ways that we Christians can do a better job of showing love to our culture, even in the midst of disagreement on a variety of issues. That’s my primary focus. If that interests you, I hope you’ll stick around, no matter what you think about any other specific issue.
I DON’T want to use this space to simply debate about homosexuality. There are already a million places on the internet where you can find those debates if you want them, and I’ve never yet seen someone’s mind changed by any of them.
I DO, however, understand that people have a lot of questions about that subject, including people who want to know what I believe and people who already know that they disagree with me. I will absolutely do my best to answer any sincere, respectful questions you send my way, including the ones that challenge me. All I ask is that we keep the tone of the conversation respectful even when we disagree. If people are rude or disrespectful, I reserve the right to delete their comments. My blog, my rules.
I DO also want to share with you my adventures and misadventures as I travel around the country working to build more loving, constructive dialogue among Christians on the topic of homosexuality. I’ll tell you about my successes and failures, the interesting people I meet and situations I find myself in, and what I continue to learn about how the Christian community can lovingly agree to disagree on such a complex, polarizing issue.
I MIGHT also have some other interesting stories to share on a separate but related topic. Stay tuned!
So whether you’re gay or straight, whether you believe in same-sex marriage or strongly oppose it, if you think we Christians need to fix our unloving reputations and learn how to treat people more like Jesus would, then stick around and let’s explore those subjects together, okay?
After all, if you can disagree lovingly on the internet, you can probably do just about anything.
Tell me about you!
Yesterday I wrote a little bit about me, but now I’d like to know a little about those of you who are reading this blog!
So tell me about you: What brought you here? Why are you interested in this blog? What are you hoping I’ll discuss? But tell me, too, about the little things like your hobbies and interests and things that have nothing to do with the subject of this blog.
Let’s get to know each other.
What. A. Night.
Yesterday was the first day of Transforming the Conversation, a new program I helped design to try to build bridges of understanding between gays and Christians (and, of course, those of us in the middle), specifically in more conservative areas where it’s most needed.
The program involves going to 20 universities, mostly in the Bible Belt, in one year. At each university, I’m leading a public discussion for the whole campus, designed to bring people from both sides together to share their stories and talk about ways to have productive dialogue in the future. I’m also having separate conversations with the LGBT community and their friends, to give them some of our resources and show them ways they can initiate more loving conversations in their families and churches.
If you know me, you know my passion is building bridges and helping people understand each other, especially on this issue. My goal isn’t to change everyone’s mind about what the Bible says; it’s to change the way we respond to that disagreement. Would I love for everyone to agree with me? Of course! Who wouldn’t? But we Christians have always disagreed on issues. What matters is whether we can continue to love one another.
So yeah… last night was our very first night, at Auburn Montgomery in Montgomery, Alabama. That’s right: my first attempt to use this program to build dialogue between gays and Christians was taking place in Alabama. Am I nuts?
I was more than a bit nervous, as you might imagine.
As if that weren’t enough, yesterday morning Rachel Held Evans posted my responses to questions from her readers on her blog. The response has been great but overwhelming. For the last 24 hours, my inbox has been filling up with notifications of comments both on Rachel’s blog and on this one, but I haven’t been able to read them all yet because I’ve been busy here in Alabama leading these conversations.
I apologize to all of you that I haven’t had time yet to respond to your comments, but I will as soon as I can!
So I know you’re wondering: How did our first night go?
Things started okay, but they almost went horribly wrong. As I shared about the two opposing viewpoints in the church about homosexuality and the need for those two sides to talk to each other if they want to make change, a young woman in the front row raised her hand.
She couldn’t get behind the idea of dialogue, because in her mind, there was no room for it. If being gay is sinful, she argued, then one side was condemning people to hell. But if the other side was wrong, there were “really no consequences.”
I agreed that the issues were serious, and that we couldn’t just say, “Let’s all just get along.” But I disagreed that there were “no consequences” if her side was wrong. If Christians are wrongly (though sincerely) condemning people’s relationships, and if that false condemnation is breaking up families, pushing people away from God, and destroying the reputation of the church, those are some pretty darn serious consequences!
If either side is wrong, it matters. Let’s not kid ourselves.
After those comments, it was tough to bring everyone back to the planned agenda. People began wanting to bring up Bible disagreements and other issues, and both sides grew frustrated and tense. For a moment, I was worried. So I changed strategies. Instead of continuing with the plan, I put the conversation on hold and asked people to share their own stories and talk about the misconceptions their side might have about the other side. The tension dissipated, and the nature of the conversation changed.
After the event, though, that same young woman and a number of her friends from a campus Christian group approached me to ask about my views on the Bible. My goal had been to moderate a conversation, not to share my own views, but since they asked, I did my best to condense many years of prayer, Bible study, and questions into a brief synopsis of the turmoil I had gone through on the subject and the Bible passages and other things that had ultimately changed my mind.
I wasn’t surprised that this young woman disagreed with my view. What did surprise me was what she said next.
“You, sir,” she said, her eyes burning and her voice hard, “do NOT have a relationship with Jesus. You do NOT have the Holy Spirit. I know what someone with the Holy Spirit looks like, and it’s not you. You will have the blood of many people on your hands, people you led straight to hell. And I cannot stand by and watch you do it.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’ve seen a lot of people get upset about this issue, and I’ve been accused many times of leading people astray (something I hope and pray every day that I never do), but this woman had more anger directed at me than I think I’ve ever seen. I actually wondered if she wanted to physically harm me.
Other people told me they got a lot out of the event, so I think it was a success, but I have to admit that that experience is tough to shake.
I think and pray deeply about the views I hold, but of course I have no way to be sure that I’m right about anything I believe. We’re all human, and we’re all fallible. The one thing I do know is that I am sincere and passionate about wanting to serve God with my life.
So how do you prove that to someone who looks at you with hate in their eyes?
