I am gay. It is an essential part of who I am. It defines me. I didn't pick it up one day and decide it looked like a fun thing to try on for awhile. I also can't just decide to put it down. My queerness is essential to who I am.
And yet, and yet, and yet...
I hear nearly every day the mantra of "love the sinner, but hate the sin." How can that be? How can you love me but hate who I am? Not what I do. Not choices I make. But who I am?
I hate analogizing sexual orientation to race because it's incredibly essentializing and misses a lot of points, but I do think it has some value here: you cannot claim that being black is a sin, but still truly love black people. It doesn't work like that.
I saw on a Facebook comment the other day, in response to a post with a link to Matthew Vines explaining his interpretation of the major Bible verses used to condemn homosexuality, that the commenter could not even finish reading Matthew Vines' words because it made them sick to their stomach.
I wanted to comment and ask if they really had a problem with his Biblical interpretation skills or just with the conclusion he was coming to. More specifically, was it contemplating the particulars of gay sexuality that was making this person physically ill? Did it really have anything to do with esoteric discussions of Biblical interpretations?
I've talked to my Dad a few times, not a lot because it's painful all around, but a few times, about our differences on this issue. And one thing he's said several times is that he just doesn't and can't understand it, and he lists off that he doesn't get it theologically, mentally, emotionally, or biologically. I always want to go, really? I expected the theological objection. I disagree with it and think it's invalid, but I was expecting it. But it made me wonder, how much of people's ostensibly religious-based objections to gayness have anything to do with actual, earnestly held theological beliefs and how much has to do with ignorance, fear, and yeah, a gut-level disgust with something that they personally don't and can't understand?
Pretty much all straight people don't and can't understand why homosexuality would be appealing. Doesn't matter if they're true allies or not. They don't and can't "get it."
Well, of course not! There's a very simple reason behind that: they are straight! They were born that way. As in, they don't (and can't) understand sexual attraction to the same sex because they simply are not attracted to the same sex.
Guess what? I feel the exact same way about the opposite sex. It doesn't make sense to me. Now, of course, for myself and a whole heap of other gay people out there, there's this little thing called compulsive heterosexuality that forced us, from the earliest of ages, to think straight relationships were our only option. So, yeah, I spent most of my life contemplating what it would be like to be in a romantic relationship with the opposite sex. It never felt good or right in any way. But I thought about it. A lot. Because that's what good Christian girls are supposed to do, supposed to think about. Not only that, but because of internalized homophobia, I actually tried to convince myself it was what I wanted. I spent years doing that.
Imagine, just for a second, being a straight person doing the same thing your entire life: contemplating and trying to force yourself to be excited for the prospect of one day engaging in a relationship with someone of the same gender as you. Feels uncomfortable, if nothing else, right?
Straight people probably don't think about their sexual orientation as being integral to their identity. In fact, I know that they don't. They don't have to spend years trying to figure it out. It's just assumed. They don't have to explain it to anyone else. Again, it's just assumed.
Anyways, back to my point: I'm gay. And it's part of who I am.
So when you say that being gay, or acting on same sex attraction, or however else you want to word it is a sin, you aren't just attacking my actions or my choices. You are attacking who I am, at my very core.
Last time I posted on here, I called for a conversation with my parents. We have had a conversation, and we're still trying to figure out how to dialogue about any and all of this. None of us are good at it. It's all very painful and awkward and it feels like we never get anywhere. There was this one moment during that conversation where I got frustrated and I was crying and as I walked over to grab a Kleenex, I just half-shouted "when will you just accept that your daughter is fucking gay!" My dad said "that's not helpful," and, yeah, on a big level, it wasn't. We were trying to have a dialogue on a subject that is emotional and awkward and hard to talk about all around. And it's never helpful when someone gets angry or curses or yells in those situations.
But, at the same time, there is just so much truth to it.
My parents and I can talk theology in circles until our heads explode. But I honestly don't think that theology is at the root of the disconnect. I think a disagreement about whether or not gayness is innate is at the true heart of it. And I don't know how to get past that. I truly don't. I can cite experts who make clear that being attracted to the same gender isn't a choice. I can cite incredibly in-depth research regarding how the church has not always condemned gay weddings, and has at times (back in the Middle Ages) even performed them.
But if a person can't get past the mental block surrounding the physical and biological mechanics of gay sex...then I honestly don't know where to go from there. It's like trying to explain why seafood would be appealing to someone like me who gets nauseous at the sight and smell of it. It just doesn't compute.
But here's the major difference: I don't think that eating seafood is wrong simply because I don't like it and don't understand why or how anyone could.
My parents believe that monogamous heterosexual Christian marriages are at the centre of God's plan for humanity. They've built their lives around that belief. They counsel couples and teach classes on how to better fit within that model. So I think this whole thing is harder for them than most, because their straight Christian marriage is so central to who they are, too.
But if I were to keep telling them that their marriage, their love is a sin, that they are hurting themselves and each other by continuing it, they would be hurt. And offended. Because it defines them.
Well this, my gayness, who I love, it defines me, too. And I can't change it. Believe me, I tried. I tried for the longest time. I hated myself for this. I hated being around others like me. Other gay people made me so incredibly uncomfortable. Because I knew. But I couldn't let myself go there.
But now I'm here. It's been well over two years now. I've embraced and celebrated who I am. I've found someone to love and build a life with. I can even get married now. In every single state in the entire country (!!!!!!!).
So I guess what it comes down to for me is this: don't try to to claim that you love me, that you want what's best for me, or that you in any way respect me, if you are going to then turn around and say that who I am is a sin. I can't change anyone's minds about the theology, and I definitely can't make anyone understand attraction to the same gender. But when you say that being gay (or acting on same sex attraction or whatever slightly nicer-sounding thing you want to say) is a sin, you are saying that I am a sin.
I am not a sin.
Furthermore, when the Church and every single Christian who has ever uttered the phrase "love the sinner, hate the sin" perpetuates this belief, they are telling me, every member of the LGBT community, and every other ignorant and/or bigoted person out there that we, the queer community, are not human. We are sins. So it's okay to not serve us at your restaurants, to not let us into your hardware stores. It's okay, because we are sins. It's okay to deny us marriage licenses, while granting it to every twice divorced person and every atheist marrying a Christian and every other person who walks through that door. Because that twice divorced person may have sinned, but they are not a sin. That Christian may have sinned by marrying an atheist, but they, themselves, are just a human who made a bad choice. A gay person, however, is, inherently, a sin. Until they stop being a sin, they cannot have civil rights. They can be discriminated against.
How long does it take to get from denying basic civil rights like marriage licenses and equal employment opportunities to enacting actual, physical violence?
Harvey Milk.
Matthew Sheppard.
Sakia Gunn.
Brandon Teena.
Lawrence "Larry" King.
CeCe McDonald.
And what kind of effect does calling LGBT people "sins" have on LGBT young people?
Tyler Clementi.
Leelah Alcorn.
Adam Kizer.
Jadin Bell.
If you think calling LGBT people, who they are, at their very core, a "sin" has absolutely nothing to do with LGBT suicide rates and violence against LGBT people, I challenge you to think a little harder about it. Think about it this way (and, again, I don't like to compare, but it's useful here): if there was a very strong narrative in this country that being black was a "sin," don't you think that the KKK, the Aryan Nation, and other hate groups would feel that much more comfortable carrying out their heinous acts of violence? And don't you think those people who called being black a "sin" would have blood on their hands too? Even if they never once enacted physical violence against a black person? Wouldn't it also be harder to make the argument that that violence is wrong? (I could go on and on about how distrurbingly close to the truth each of these statements are, but that's for another post entirely...)
When you call gayness a sin, you are saying that I, because of who I am, am less than you. I am not human. I am "sin."
There's nothing Christian about that. Believe what you want for your own lives. But don't call me a "sin." And stop deluding yourself into believing that you can label me "sin" and still claim to love and respect me. It's not possible.
I am not a sin.
Showing posts with label gay rights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gay rights. Show all posts
Friday, July 3, 2015
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Apathy and Ellen Page
Like so much of the queer world, I freaked the fuck out when Ellen Page came out this past Friday. And not because I was in any way surprised that Ellen Page is gay. I wasn't. Like so many other people, gay or straight (or anywhere else on any spectrum), I was about 99.999% sure that Ellen Page is gay. And yet, as much as there may be a decent sized list of people who the queer community (especially the online queer feminist community to which I belong) "knows" is queer, every single time one of them actually takes their own affirmative steps to come out of their closets, to declare their own truths, we all cheer and freak out so loud and for so long that we start to forget there was ever a time when that person actually wasn't out.
For days after I saw the internet explode with Ellen Page's announcement, I carried on my life with a huge, probably incredibly goofy-looking grin on my face. And at first I couldn't figure out why this one person's coming out was making me so incredibly happy. I mean, I cheered and celebrated when Raven-Symone and Michelle Rodriguez came out last year. I was happy. But neither Raven's gay marriage celebrating tweet nor M-Rod's bisexual rumour confirming interview made me this ecstatic for days on end. At first I thought it was just because of how much I love Ellen Page's movies or how much I crush on her, but, let's be honest, Michelle Rodriguez definitely falls more into the latter category for me than Ellen Page does.
And then I thought maybe it's because Raven and Michelle Rodriguez both have histories of awkwardly, defensively, and at times destructively denying rumours of their respective queerness. And Ellen Page just avoided the subject (or even tongue-in-cheek poked fun at in that 2008 SNL skit). Or it could be because Ellen Page is still a huge, and likely still rising star, while M-Rod has a long-term and at times messy career of always playing the same bad-ass type of character and Raven's claim to fame rises mostly out her career as a kid on the "Cosby Show" and a teen in Disney's "That's So Raven."
But I think the real reason behind my joyous reaction to Ellen Page coming out is simply because of the way that she came out. As the icon of gay Ellens would put it, she owned her own truth. Ellen Page got on that stage and didn't just say, "hey world, I'm gay, now explode!" (even though that's pretty much all that got reported/tweeted in the immediate aftermath). Instead, she stood up there and slowly built up to her announcement through an exposition of Hollywood culture and societal pressure, both on gender presentation and sexuality. And, yeah, Ellen Page said those three words "I am gay," and those may forever be the most memorable words from her speech (and after those seemingly simple words, you could see her entire body sigh). But I truly hope that those words are not the only ones remembered from her speech on Friday. Because that wasn't the pinnacle of her speech, not by a long shot. Instead, she went on to explain her own coming out (and why she hadn't until this point), acknowledged her own privilege in being able to come out in such an accepting setting, and ended by saying "thank you" to everyone who enables young people to find the strength to claim their own truth.
Now, while most of the response to Ellen Page coming out was positive and supportive, and I honestly didn't see much hateful or negative backlash, I did see way too many dismissive comments, as Riese over at Autostraddle so beautifully dissects:
Ellen Page said she’d been scared to reveal her truth, and in response way too many people responded with, ”In other news, the sky is blue.” The fact that so many felt comfortable being that rude to someone who’d just publicly shared a private struggle speaks volumes about how important they consider the issues of gay women to be. We should be wary of these people. People like them are why so many believe this country is post-racial or post-feminist when this country is racist as fuck and hates women. This country loves to pass a few laws and then declare everything officially fixed forever. This country has a short memory.When people respond to a high profile celebrity coming out with some variation of "so what?" or "well duh! who cares?" they perpetuate the notion that the fight is over. That gay youth don't still face rejection, homelessness, drug addictions, depression, and suicide at exponentially higher rates than non-queer youth. And the vast majority of these issues stem from familial or communal rejection of them once they come out or are outed.
It can be soul-crushing for a queer person who is struggling with the possibility of coming out of the closet to less than supportive family and friends to see those types of responses to the beautifully eloquent coming out of someone like Ellen Page. When you are sitting in the darkness of your own closet, having just felt a little bit of warmth and light shine on you because of the encouragement of Ellen Page, and then you see so many self-proclaimed "allies" shun the idea that there is any bravery at all (or even any point for that matter) in someone like Ellen Page ever publicly declaring her label, her truth, you want to slam yourself so tightly back into that closet, nearly forgetting to take note of the incredible support that Ellen Page and her true supporters and community have to offer.
I know what it's like to live for years in a closet. I've been there. I spent so much of my life refusing to even let myself face my own truth, the reality of my own attractions and desires. I wouldn't even acknowledge it in my head because I knew (or thought I knew) that as long as I never faced it myself, I would never have to face even the slightest possibility of sharing that truth with anyone around me. And I had the vast majority of these frightened and denial-ridden conversations with myself while attending American University, a place so imbued with support and pride for LGBT issues that Westboro Baptist Church (ahem...cult, not church) came to protest us. And while I felt (and still feel) so much pride at how incredible my school was at embracing and encouraging queers, I still engaged in this circular, internalized-homophobic thought process. I didn't come out to myself until a good year after I left American. And, yes, there are many other personal reasons behind the timing of my own journey, but what I know is this: having an immediately supportive community doesn't make it somehow magically easy to come out of the closet. Sure, on some surface level, would it have been easier for me to face my own truth, to come out as queer, while still at AU? Of course, without a doubt. But I also know that if I had come out publicly while at AU, chances are I never would've moved home, never would've put in the work, the sweat and tears, to rebuild my relationship with my family. Instead, I waited until my family and I were on solid ground for the first time in years before I felt I could even face my own truth for myself. And then I came out to my family. And then to the rest of my world. Now, from a distance, this might seem like I waited until my family and I were on solid ground only to rip the metaphorical rug out from under us by coming out. I've had people, family members even, say this very thing to me. But what I know is that I put far too much blood, sweat, and tears into rebuilding my relationship with my parents to allow even a portion of that relationship to be built on the lie that I was perpetuating, by omission if nothing else, that I was straight. I needed to rebuild that relationship, and then I had to reveal my whole truth, before we could ever be on truly solid ground. That's my journey. That's my story.
So when people try to make the argument that coming out in front of an overwhelmingly supportive community like the Human Rights Campaign isn't brave at all, they are flat out wrong. Because coming out, declaring the truth of your queerness, involves so much more than just needing an immediate pat on the back by those in close proximity to you. Coming out is a process of finally facing yourself, acknowledging your own truth, and then figuring out where that leaves you in the many different worlds that you navigate.
Some people think that, because they aren't actively spewing hate at a gay person, they don't pull the trigger when a black person makes them nervous (or do but justify it by claiming stand-your-ground), and they don't intentionally try to treat the women in their workplace as less important/intelligent/etc. than their male colleagues, they are not in any way perpetuating the institutions of homophobia, racism, and sexism, respectively. But for anyone who really takes the time to dig into any of these issues, they have to at some point come to the realization that these oppressive institutions are still very much alive and well. And once you reach that conclusion, but look around and don't see public lynchings, anti-sodomy laws, or lack of women's suffrage, at some point you also have to realize that it's not just the faceless, nameless "other" that perpetuates these institutions. It's us. It's you and me. Every day we let our own apathy lull us into contentment, every time we let ourselves believe that we don't play a role in perpetuating these oppressive institutions, we are, by that very act of apathy, perpetuating them.
For the past couple months I've been wrestling with the idea of how to fight against the pull of my own apathy, to truly fight for the things for which my heart breaks. There's this poem, "Etiquette Leash," by the amazing queer spoken word artist and activist, Andrea Gibson, that has opened my eyes and challenged me so much that I find myself repeating it to myself over and over again each day. As I was editing this post, I kept trying to figure out which section of the poem I wanted to include, but I don't think it carries nearly the same weight in snippets. So here's the whole thing:
It's so very easy for me to rest in my own privileged apathy, to not do that hard work of opening the eyes of those around me. To know and feel the pain and the heartache caused by so many different problems in the world, but to justify my own silence, my own lack of action by claiming that I'm not actively perpetuating any of these institutions (at least not purposefully). But this shuffling of blame and responsibility is precisely what allows these institutions to remain so active.
Every time a celebrity comes our or there's a story of a young gay kid committing suicide, and so many self-proclaimed "allies" respond with "so what?" to the former and "I would never bully a gay kid" to the latter, the institution of homophobia rolls on. Every time we see stories of black boys like Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis being killed and either refuse to acknowledge the role racism plays in their deaths or separate ourselves from it by saying that we don't shoot every black kid we see walking down the street in a hoodie, we are turning our eyes from the overwhelming racism that is ravaging this supposedly great nation.
How do we not see that I, a cisgender, upper class, well-educated white woman, will never have to justify wearing a hoodie, listening to headphones and walking home alone at night to the man with a gun. That man with a gun isn't going to assume that I'm casing every house I walk by trying to figure out which one I should break into. But if I were a young black man walking home alone with my hood up and my headphones in, that's what people assume. That's what George Zimmerman assumed.
I drive around in my economy car blaring my music, mostly alternative but sometimes hip hop, and even at gas stations, sometimes I'll let it blare while I run inside to grab a snack. I have never once had to worry that if I don't turn my music down when someone asks, that person may pull a gun on me because my music in combination with my skin tone made him "justifiably" afraid. But that's exactly what happened when Michael Dunn saw Jordan Davis blaring his music at a gas station. I'll never have to face that.
My parents have never once had to instruct me on how to act when I'm around a police officer. They've never had to tell me to be constantly aware of how fast my hands move to my pocket for ID in connection with how quickly the cop's hand can move to unbuckle his gun holster. I've never had those conversations. I never will. Because I am white.
My criminal procedure professor from last semester told us that her African-American husband, an Ivy-educated, powerful attorney, would never feel comfortable saying "no" to a cop who asks to search his car. Not because of the law. This man knows the law and knows he has every right to deny a consent-search. But because his skin colour immediately makes most cops suspicious. It doesn't matter that this man drives a really nice car, is well-educated, articulate and upper class. His skin is black, so he does not feel safe exercising his full Constitutional rights.
That is the world that we live in. That is a society that we perpetuate.
For years, I've wanted to be a prosecutor. I still do. I clerk at a local State's Attorney's Office and I'm earning my Criminal Litigation certificate along with my J.D. But increasingly I find myself wondering how I'm going to operate within the modern criminal justice system when I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the modern criminal justice system operates as a new slave system, a modern Jim Crow. Is it my own apathy towards these heart-wrenching truths that keeps me on this path? Or am I simply allowing myself to prioritize the feminist struggle over the anti-racist struggle? Is that prioritization in itself a form of apathy?
These are my digressions, my internal struggles. And I will likely wrestle with these issues for years to come. Finding intersectional answers to the intertwining problems of this worlds is never easy. But what I do know is that I refuse to remain silent about these issues. I won't stand by and let people claim that Ellen Page's courage doesn't matter. I won't stand still when I hear those around me, subtly or otherwise, perpetuating racism and sexism. I have to speak up. I have to give voice to the screams inside my chest.
Right before Ellen Page uttered those simple words "I'm here today because I am gay," those words that shattered the internet for a little while, she said that she drew on the "strength and support" of the people at the conference. Likewise, people like me and other queer youth, whether out or still in the closet, draw on the strength of high profile and courageous people like Ellen Page. And like Ellen Page, "maybe I can make a difference. To help others have an easier and more hopeful time. Regardless, for me, I feel a personal obligation and a social responsibility." This blog is a part of that speaking up and fighting back. But I know that I have to do more. I'm constantly learning and trying to figure out how to keep fighting, to figure out the balance. What I've realized over the last couple years though, what has become increasingly clear to me, is that I cannot afford, this world cannot afford, for me or anyone else to remain politely silent, waiting our turn to speak or holding our tongues to allow those around us to remain apathetic and comfortable. We must speak up. We must fight back. We must do the work to make each other see, to not rest, to not be afraid.
To end, I will quote Andrea Gibson once more:
I don't believe we're hateful
I think mostly we're just asleep
But the math adds up the same
You can't call up the dead and say,
"Sorry, we were looking the other way."
There are names and faces behind our apathy
eulogies beneath our choices
There are voices deep as roots
thundering unquestionable truth
through the white noise that pacifies our ears.
Don't tell me we don't hear
Don't tell me we don't hear
When the moon is slain
when the constellations disperse like shrapnel
don't you think it's time
something changed?
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
The Queer Choice
"We want sexuality to be biological because then it's more about instincts and nature pulling people together. Choice isn't very romantic. Love is about surrender -- the absence of choice -- the irresistable pull of another body. We don't have faith in the rest of it because we doubt the permanence of anything we are capable of changing with our minds."
I just read these word by Riese, the founder of one of my favourite websites, AutoStraddle. I've always loved her writing about pretty much any topic. But when I read those words, they hit me so hard I couldn't breath for a couple seconds. It was written by her in a journal many years ago when she was still struggling with coming to terms with a label, any label, be it bisexual or lesbian or queer or anything else.
When I read those words, I flashed back to those months that I spent silently struggling with the fact that I had finally allowed myself to admit my sexual attraction to women. I vividly recalled when I "came out" to my brother; I told him "I'm bisexual." Because even though I had allowed myself to admit my same-sex attraction and had even (for the most part) reconciled my faith with that pull that I felt, I was still struggling with labels.
Oh, labels...
It's so easy to just slap one on the moment you feel you've "figure it out." When I first admitted my same-sex attraction I (somewhat reluctantly) labelled myself "bisexual."
Then I came to realize that being able to find men attractive doesn't mean that I could ever actually have a romantic relationship with a man.
Everyone, male or female, gay or straight, intersex, trans*, bisexual or simply queer, is capable of (and likely does) see beauty and attraction in every gender variety and presentation.
That doesn't mean that everyone is pansexual. It simply means we all have eyes and hearts and minds. We all have the simple ability to see beauty.
Once I realized this, I knew that the label I had ostensibly embraced didn't fit. And then because I was still struggling with how to reconcile my faith with my sexuality, and then trying to figure out how to come out to my family, I kind of gave up the question of labels for a while.
And yet...
When I came out to my family and then to the world on this very blog, I still felt uncomfortable embracing a certain label. I called myself "gay," because I felt weird, queer even, embracing the term "lesbian." I couldn't (and still can't to my sufficient liking) articulate why that label made me uncomfortable. I know that it has something to do with the stereotypes that surround that term. But I couldn't fully explain why it made me so uncomfortable when the term "gay" did not.
As I've more fully embraced the queer community and my place in it, I've come to see that the problem wasn't the label of "lesbian." The problem was the fact that it was a label. I saw "gay" as a broad category, not a constricting label. "Lesbian" was (and is) something very specific. And I'm not saying that I don't/can't fit the category of "lesbian," whatever that might entail. I do and I can fit. I am exclusively drawn to romantic/sexual relationships with women. It's as simple as that.
And yet...
There's nothing simple about attraction. And here's where I come back to Riese's words. When my parents and I were first talking about my sexuality, we kept coming back to the age-old (not really age old, but I digress) argument about whether or not my orientation, my same-sex attraction is a so-called "choice." We argued about whether it is something biological or produced through circumstances or, very simply, a distinct human choice with not much else playing into it.
And it makes the whole thing easy, simple, cut-and-dry if I simply claim that my orientation, my "label," is biologically-ingrained. It makes the argument simple.
But it'll never resolve anything. Peope can (and likely -- though I hope not -- will) alway argue about "choice" until the end of time.
But what does "choice" matter? If someone chooses (assuming there are no consent, coercion, or violence issues at play) to be in a romantic or sexual relationship with someone of the same gender, can anyone really argue that they have zero attraction to that person, that they are not in some way drawn to each other? Very few (if any) people choose, when deciding whether to pursue any form of romantic or sexual relationship (whether long-term or fleeting), to engage in that relationship with someone whom they feel no attraction to. That attraction may be physical, intellectual, emotional, or under any other category that draws them to each other. Because, for whatever reason, good or bad, we all engage in relationships with people whom we are drawn to. That "pull," as I'll call it, is the basis for most meaningful human interaction (by "meaningful" I simply mean those interactions that aren't purely task-oriented, i.e. any customer service interactions likely aren't very "meaningful," so there's likely no "pull").
I felt that "pull" to become close friends with several people who are still my best friends to this day long before I was ever willing to acknowledge my "pull" to them and others was more than just platonic.
I choose to embrace who I am; I choose to embrace this pull. But I think I've also come to a place where I'm not entirely comfortable with slapping a confining label on who I am. I think the only "label" that I could embrace is "queer." Because "queer," as it's been embraced and redefined by the LGBT community, is anything but confining. It's empowering and freeing and unfettered.
This isn't some very round-about way of saying that I'm really bisexual. That's not it at all. What I am saying is that I don't really care about the boxes that the typical label of "lesbian" would put me in to the extent that it forces me to accept the idea that who I am is immutable, biological, or based on anything other than my surrender to the pull.
I'm not sure I'm explaining this well. In fact, I know that I'm not.
But what I want to say, the gist of what I realized when I read Riese's words, is that accepting who I am, embracing the truth regarding the people whom I am attracted to and desire to spend my life with, was, to one degree or another, a choice. But it wasn't a choice about who I am going to be with. It was a choice to have faith. To surrender to that "pull," that desire, that beauty and joy and life that I feel both in embracing who I am and in acknowleding to whom I am attracted.
I believe that we, as humans, are meant to spend our lives in community with one another. I believe that we are meant to find people to spend our lives with. I believe most of us are supposed to find a person who complements who we are, who challenges us and pushes us forward, and excites us and draws us in and makes us whole.
And how could I ever be whole if I choose to spend my life with someone who will never do all those things? Who will never complete me or challenge me or draw me in? How could I plan on spending my life with someone for whom I know I will never burn with passion?
I'm still not sure how to articulate why it is that I'll never feel that pull towards a man. Maybe that's part of why Riese's words hit me so hard: because it forced me to recognize that it is a choice to have faith, to surrender to that pull, even though I can't articulate why. I may never be able to articulate why a man would never be able to make me whole in the same way that a woman can. But I know it. And I've accepted it. And I choose to surrender to it.
I just read these word by Riese, the founder of one of my favourite websites, AutoStraddle. I've always loved her writing about pretty much any topic. But when I read those words, they hit me so hard I couldn't breath for a couple seconds. It was written by her in a journal many years ago when she was still struggling with coming to terms with a label, any label, be it bisexual or lesbian or queer or anything else.
When I read those words, I flashed back to those months that I spent silently struggling with the fact that I had finally allowed myself to admit my sexual attraction to women. I vividly recalled when I "came out" to my brother; I told him "I'm bisexual." Because even though I had allowed myself to admit my same-sex attraction and had even (for the most part) reconciled my faith with that pull that I felt, I was still struggling with labels.
Oh, labels...
It's so easy to just slap one on the moment you feel you've "figure it out." When I first admitted my same-sex attraction I (somewhat reluctantly) labelled myself "bisexual."
Then I came to realize that being able to find men attractive doesn't mean that I could ever actually have a romantic relationship with a man.
Everyone, male or female, gay or straight, intersex, trans*, bisexual or simply queer, is capable of (and likely does) see beauty and attraction in every gender variety and presentation.
That doesn't mean that everyone is pansexual. It simply means we all have eyes and hearts and minds. We all have the simple ability to see beauty.
Once I realized this, I knew that the label I had ostensibly embraced didn't fit. And then because I was still struggling with how to reconcile my faith with my sexuality, and then trying to figure out how to come out to my family, I kind of gave up the question of labels for a while.
And yet...
When I came out to my family and then to the world on this very blog, I still felt uncomfortable embracing a certain label. I called myself "gay," because I felt weird, queer even, embracing the term "lesbian." I couldn't (and still can't to my sufficient liking) articulate why that label made me uncomfortable. I know that it has something to do with the stereotypes that surround that term. But I couldn't fully explain why it made me so uncomfortable when the term "gay" did not.
As I've more fully embraced the queer community and my place in it, I've come to see that the problem wasn't the label of "lesbian." The problem was the fact that it was a label. I saw "gay" as a broad category, not a constricting label. "Lesbian" was (and is) something very specific. And I'm not saying that I don't/can't fit the category of "lesbian," whatever that might entail. I do and I can fit. I am exclusively drawn to romantic/sexual relationships with women. It's as simple as that.
And yet...
There's nothing simple about attraction. And here's where I come back to Riese's words. When my parents and I were first talking about my sexuality, we kept coming back to the age-old (not really age old, but I digress) argument about whether or not my orientation, my same-sex attraction is a so-called "choice." We argued about whether it is something biological or produced through circumstances or, very simply, a distinct human choice with not much else playing into it.
And it makes the whole thing easy, simple, cut-and-dry if I simply claim that my orientation, my "label," is biologically-ingrained. It makes the argument simple.
But it'll never resolve anything. Peope can (and likely -- though I hope not -- will) alway argue about "choice" until the end of time.
But what does "choice" matter? If someone chooses (assuming there are no consent, coercion, or violence issues at play) to be in a romantic or sexual relationship with someone of the same gender, can anyone really argue that they have zero attraction to that person, that they are not in some way drawn to each other? Very few (if any) people choose, when deciding whether to pursue any form of romantic or sexual relationship (whether long-term or fleeting), to engage in that relationship with someone whom they feel no attraction to. That attraction may be physical, intellectual, emotional, or under any other category that draws them to each other. Because, for whatever reason, good or bad, we all engage in relationships with people whom we are drawn to. That "pull," as I'll call it, is the basis for most meaningful human interaction (by "meaningful" I simply mean those interactions that aren't purely task-oriented, i.e. any customer service interactions likely aren't very "meaningful," so there's likely no "pull").
I felt that "pull" to become close friends with several people who are still my best friends to this day long before I was ever willing to acknowledge my "pull" to them and others was more than just platonic.
I choose to embrace who I am; I choose to embrace this pull. But I think I've also come to a place where I'm not entirely comfortable with slapping a confining label on who I am. I think the only "label" that I could embrace is "queer." Because "queer," as it's been embraced and redefined by the LGBT community, is anything but confining. It's empowering and freeing and unfettered.
This isn't some very round-about way of saying that I'm really bisexual. That's not it at all. What I am saying is that I don't really care about the boxes that the typical label of "lesbian" would put me in to the extent that it forces me to accept the idea that who I am is immutable, biological, or based on anything other than my surrender to the pull.
I'm not sure I'm explaining this well. In fact, I know that I'm not.
But what I want to say, the gist of what I realized when I read Riese's words, is that accepting who I am, embracing the truth regarding the people whom I am attracted to and desire to spend my life with, was, to one degree or another, a choice. But it wasn't a choice about who I am going to be with. It was a choice to have faith. To surrender to that "pull," that desire, that beauty and joy and life that I feel both in embracing who I am and in acknowleding to whom I am attracted.
I believe that we, as humans, are meant to spend our lives in community with one another. I believe that we are meant to find people to spend our lives with. I believe most of us are supposed to find a person who complements who we are, who challenges us and pushes us forward, and excites us and draws us in and makes us whole.
And how could I ever be whole if I choose to spend my life with someone who will never do all those things? Who will never complete me or challenge me or draw me in? How could I plan on spending my life with someone for whom I know I will never burn with passion?
I'm still not sure how to articulate why it is that I'll never feel that pull towards a man. Maybe that's part of why Riese's words hit me so hard: because it forced me to recognize that it is a choice to have faith, to surrender to that pull, even though I can't articulate why. I may never be able to articulate why a man would never be able to make me whole in the same way that a woman can. But I know it. And I've accepted it. And I choose to surrender to it.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Changing Marriage
I've written before about the major "clobber" passages in the Bible which are consistently used in modern times to say that homosexuality is a sin. And I still believe that that is an important conversation to have, an important debate to delve into. But something is missing from that debate.
Nowhere in that conversation is there a discussion of sexual politics and the cultural use of sexual relations at the time in which the different passages were written. Because here's the thing: the concepts and ideas of sex and marriage which are so prevalent today were nowhere to be seen in Biblical times. Marriage during the pre-Christian eras, during the Greco-Roman empire in which Christ lived and the whole New Testament was written was not about love or commitment, or a life-long bond between partners.
In the Greco-Roman world, sex was political. It was about power and control. It was a display of the dichotomy between dominance and submission. Under Roman law, a Roman citizen had sexual rights to every person who was not their equal. This meant that a Roman citizen, by nature an adult male with political rights and power, could legally have sex, forcefully or otherwise, with any person who was not a Roman citizen. So he had sexual rights to every woman (no matter her ethnic or social class), every slave (male or female), every child (yes, child!), and every other person who did not hold the political station of a Roman citizen.
There was no such thing as consent.
So when Paul, in his epistles of Corinthians and Timothy, was talking about sex, he was wrestling with how to assimilate the newly converted Gentiles with their practices of sexual dominance, power, and politics into the Jewish-turned-Christian way of life. But he didn't address those issues which we, today, would see as the biggest moral or ethical problem with Greco-Roman sexual practices: the absence of the concept of consent!
Paul addressed alot of different things, many of them quite vaguely. And there can be arguments and debates about what he really meant or how it should apply to our lives. But we cannot ignore the fact that the society in which he lived, the mindset which he had about sex and marriage has very little in common with our modern conceptions of sex and marriage.
How can we have a conversation about sexual ethics or the correct "definition" or marriage based nearly entirely upon such outdated notions as those prescribed in the Bible?
I'm not saying that we should ignore everything in the Bible related to sex, love, and marriage. Absolutely not. But we have got to read it with a grain of salt, understanding the world in which it was originally written, and even the world in which the Bible was canonized and interpreted throughout the centuries.
In fact, it wasn't until the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries that homosexuality became a broadly condemned practice across Christendom. And this was an age of broad social intolerance which saw a dramatic rise in the condemnation of Jews, "heretics," and many other social minorities. Before that time, there are examples throughout the early church, the Renaissance, and the Middle Age from the literate classes (oftentimes nobility and especially monks) including explicit gay poetry with little to any condemnation of the practice . Much of it was widely accepted as some of the most beautiful and high class literature of its time.
It was during these periods following the fall of the Roman empire that the concepts of sex and marriage transformed from an expression of political dominance and power into an expression of human love and pleasure. It wasn't perfect, just as our sexual ethics today aren't perfect across the board. But the ideas of love and marriage during these times were changing rapidly towards a more modern understanding wherein sex and marriage were viewed as expressions of love and consent.
In light of our modern view of marriage and erotic expression as an outpouring of intimate love, we must view much of the Bible differently. And not just in relation to the aforementioned "clobber" passages that can be used to address homosexuality. Today, we can see the loving, intimate relationships of Jonathon and David, as well as Naomi and Ruth as intimate same-sex relations (regardless of whether or not they were sexually intimate). Because today we view marriages as much more than a means of exerting political power and ensuring reproductive legitimacy. Instead, we view marriage as an expression of commitment, love, intimacy. In fact, the vow which Naomi gives to Ruth ("But Ruth said, 'Do not urge me to leave you or turn back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may the Lord do to me, and worse, if anything but death parts you and me.'") is often used as a proclamation of commitment at many heterosexual Christian weddings.
No one can question that both couples were, on some level, intimate. I'm not trying to make an argument absolutely that either of them were sexually involved. Because that's not the point. Just as the point of marriages today is not exclusively about sexual intimacy. Today, in the Western world, most people get married because of love, commitment, and respect. And even among those who don't marry for those reason, most all of them would at least acknowledge these principles as the components of an ideal marriage. Can anyone argue that Naomi and Ruth weren't loving, committed, or respectful of each other? The same with Jonathon and David?
Some may argue that this is a spurious argument, and it may well be. But whether or not you see these two relationships as intimate on an equivalent level with modern marriages, discussing them still brings up this crucial point: we don't have any Biblical examples, gay or straight, of a marriage (that is explicitly labelled as such) that is equivalent to a modern ideal for marriage. We can see glimpses of such a concept though the two same-sex relationships described above, as well as in the erotic poetry of Song of Songs. But there is no directly equivalent example of a Biblical marriage which mirrors a modern marriage. Because the culture in which the different books of the Bible were written had no such concept of marriage. There was no consent. Love was by no means required, or even encouraged, throughout most Biblical examples.
I think the one major thing that we can take away from Paul's teachings on marriage is the concept that, ideally, marriages should be based upon love and respect, not upon an exertion of political power, dominance, and control. Paul was pushing his readers in the direction of a modern-day concept of marriage. But he wasn't there yet. The whole society had to change. And when it started to, these Pauline passages weren't used to impose a ban and homosexuality, or even on gay marriage. They were used to encourage the movement towards marriage as an expression of love, commitment, and respect.
I guess my point through all of this is simply to say, once again, that we have got to recognize the prisms through which we view Biblical concepts. Moreover, we have to figure out and acknowledge the culture and norms of the time when the Bible was written, the era in which it was canonized, as well as the ways in which it has been interpreted throughout the centuries.
Sources:
John Boswell. Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality: Gay People in Western Europe from the Beginning of the Christian Era to the Fourteenth Century. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980.
Nowhere in that conversation is there a discussion of sexual politics and the cultural use of sexual relations at the time in which the different passages were written. Because here's the thing: the concepts and ideas of sex and marriage which are so prevalent today were nowhere to be seen in Biblical times. Marriage during the pre-Christian eras, during the Greco-Roman empire in which Christ lived and the whole New Testament was written was not about love or commitment, or a life-long bond between partners.
In the Greco-Roman world, sex was political. It was about power and control. It was a display of the dichotomy between dominance and submission. Under Roman law, a Roman citizen had sexual rights to every person who was not their equal. This meant that a Roman citizen, by nature an adult male with political rights and power, could legally have sex, forcefully or otherwise, with any person who was not a Roman citizen. So he had sexual rights to every woman (no matter her ethnic or social class), every slave (male or female), every child (yes, child!), and every other person who did not hold the political station of a Roman citizen.
There was no such thing as consent.
So when Paul, in his epistles of Corinthians and Timothy, was talking about sex, he was wrestling with how to assimilate the newly converted Gentiles with their practices of sexual dominance, power, and politics into the Jewish-turned-Christian way of life. But he didn't address those issues which we, today, would see as the biggest moral or ethical problem with Greco-Roman sexual practices: the absence of the concept of consent!
Paul addressed alot of different things, many of them quite vaguely. And there can be arguments and debates about what he really meant or how it should apply to our lives. But we cannot ignore the fact that the society in which he lived, the mindset which he had about sex and marriage has very little in common with our modern conceptions of sex and marriage.
How can we have a conversation about sexual ethics or the correct "definition" or marriage based nearly entirely upon such outdated notions as those prescribed in the Bible?
I'm not saying that we should ignore everything in the Bible related to sex, love, and marriage. Absolutely not. But we have got to read it with a grain of salt, understanding the world in which it was originally written, and even the world in which the Bible was canonized and interpreted throughout the centuries.
In fact, it wasn't until the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries that homosexuality became a broadly condemned practice across Christendom. And this was an age of broad social intolerance which saw a dramatic rise in the condemnation of Jews, "heretics," and many other social minorities. Before that time, there are examples throughout the early church, the Renaissance, and the Middle Age from the literate classes (oftentimes nobility and especially monks) including explicit gay poetry with little to any condemnation of the practice . Much of it was widely accepted as some of the most beautiful and high class literature of its time.
It was during these periods following the fall of the Roman empire that the concepts of sex and marriage transformed from an expression of political dominance and power into an expression of human love and pleasure. It wasn't perfect, just as our sexual ethics today aren't perfect across the board. But the ideas of love and marriage during these times were changing rapidly towards a more modern understanding wherein sex and marriage were viewed as expressions of love and consent.
In light of our modern view of marriage and erotic expression as an outpouring of intimate love, we must view much of the Bible differently. And not just in relation to the aforementioned "clobber" passages that can be used to address homosexuality. Today, we can see the loving, intimate relationships of Jonathon and David, as well as Naomi and Ruth as intimate same-sex relations (regardless of whether or not they were sexually intimate). Because today we view marriages as much more than a means of exerting political power and ensuring reproductive legitimacy. Instead, we view marriage as an expression of commitment, love, intimacy. In fact, the vow which Naomi gives to Ruth ("But Ruth said, 'Do not urge me to leave you or turn back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may the Lord do to me, and worse, if anything but death parts you and me.'") is often used as a proclamation of commitment at many heterosexual Christian weddings.
No one can question that both couples were, on some level, intimate. I'm not trying to make an argument absolutely that either of them were sexually involved. Because that's not the point. Just as the point of marriages today is not exclusively about sexual intimacy. Today, in the Western world, most people get married because of love, commitment, and respect. And even among those who don't marry for those reason, most all of them would at least acknowledge these principles as the components of an ideal marriage. Can anyone argue that Naomi and Ruth weren't loving, committed, or respectful of each other? The same with Jonathon and David?
Some may argue that this is a spurious argument, and it may well be. But whether or not you see these two relationships as intimate on an equivalent level with modern marriages, discussing them still brings up this crucial point: we don't have any Biblical examples, gay or straight, of a marriage (that is explicitly labelled as such) that is equivalent to a modern ideal for marriage. We can see glimpses of such a concept though the two same-sex relationships described above, as well as in the erotic poetry of Song of Songs. But there is no directly equivalent example of a Biblical marriage which mirrors a modern marriage. Because the culture in which the different books of the Bible were written had no such concept of marriage. There was no consent. Love was by no means required, or even encouraged, throughout most Biblical examples.
I think the one major thing that we can take away from Paul's teachings on marriage is the concept that, ideally, marriages should be based upon love and respect, not upon an exertion of political power, dominance, and control. Paul was pushing his readers in the direction of a modern-day concept of marriage. But he wasn't there yet. The whole society had to change. And when it started to, these Pauline passages weren't used to impose a ban and homosexuality, or even on gay marriage. They were used to encourage the movement towards marriage as an expression of love, commitment, and respect.
I guess my point through all of this is simply to say, once again, that we have got to recognize the prisms through which we view Biblical concepts. Moreover, we have to figure out and acknowledge the culture and norms of the time when the Bible was written, the era in which it was canonized, as well as the ways in which it has been interpreted throughout the centuries.
Sources:
John Boswell. Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality: Gay People in Western Europe from the Beginning of the Christian Era to the Fourteenth Century. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
My Apology for Homosexuality
Note: I know this post is way longer than I would normally write, but please bear with me. This is a hugely important issue and I am getting there.
I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again, but one of my greatest heroes in life is the 20th century suffragist, Alice Paul. She was willing to be jailed, go on a hunger strike, and be force fed, all in the name of taking the first of many steps on the road to female equality: the ballot. And I often think that I would be willing to go those same length to fight for my convictions.
But here's the thing: it's not the United States government that I worry about disagreeing with my beliefs. I don't worry that, by standing up for myself and my convictions, the government will choose to find an excuse to lock me in a cell and throw away the key.
But there is another institution that I worry about rejecting me and people that I know will not accept the things that I have to say. That institution is the Christian church and those people are many of my closest family and friends. But I can't let that stop me. I just can't anymore.
Throughout my years in high school and college, I remember pastors and youth leaders calling for "revolution." But they were never very clear about what that revolution was supposed to mean or do. Yeah, they made vague references to influencing the world towards "Christian" ways or somehow re-shaping our culture, but there was no specific call to action. I think part of that was because they simply had no clue what a revolution truly is.See, the Christian church has gone through revolutions before, although it is more commonly called a "reformation." Yes, I am talking about the "Great Reformation," sparked by that quintessential moment when Martin Luther nailed his 95-Theses to the door of the Catholic church in Wittenburg, Germany. And while, for years, I've known about this unilateral act by Martin Luther, I don't think I ever really considered what that must have meant for him. Specifically, I never contemplated how very much courage it must have taken not only Martin Luther, but every single one of his followers to actually be willing to turn away from the Catholic church, risking (according to the Catholic church) their very souls.
Going against the established church back in the 15th century was, or course, far more courageous than any push against the established church today because, for Martin Luther and his contemporaries, there was only one church. Today, the organized church is not one whole unit; it is splintered into dozens or even hundreds of different denominations, some with only minute disagreements among themselves, others with near catastrophic differences. So I'm not claiming to even come close to comprehending the amount of courage that it took for Martin Luther to nail that document to that church door. I just don't know. But I do know something about fearing rejection by the established church, even with a definition of such a thing as the "established" church being murky at best.
But nonetheless, I do believe that the church today, however it may be defined, does desperately need revolution. And although it is a different scale, it does still take courage to stand up and call for it. And it is a lack of courage that has kept me from speaking out and calling for change for a long time now. But it has kept me from even coming to my own personal conclusions, despite my own convictions, for even longer.
One of the things that Martin Luther fought for was the ability of everyday man to have access to the very pages of Scripture that the Catholic church was abusing. Since that day, people, through reading the Bible themselves, have had the power to figure out for themselves what to believe about specific passages and the ways that those passages should impact their lives.
Over the last several decades, though, something else has changed: the church has decided that, on a vast many topics, only one interpretation is considered valid. Now, people are supposed to just accept the English interpretations of some, at times, very obscure texts written hundreds of years ago in ancient Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. These interpretations can range from only slightly subjective to extremely biased. And yet we, as Christians, are simply supposed to blindly subject our belief systems and actions to the choices that these translators have made. And for a lot of issues, that wouldn't bother me. But there is one issue, in particular, that I can't just blindly accept anymore. In fact, I haven't been able to blindly accept it for a long time.
The issue I'm talking about is one that is, in so many Christian circles, seen as the "worst of the worst." It's used to hate and bash and blame and yell and diminish and hurt. Oh, so much hurt.
Some of you may already have figured it out, but just to be explicitly clear: the issue that I'm talking about is homosexuality. And, to be clear, when I say in the title that I'm making an "apology" for homosexuality, I'm not saying that I'm somehow trying to make amends. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm using the term "apology" in the context of a theologically based argument.
So I've studied the issue, looked at the original Greek or Hebrew words, examined context and culture, all to try and make the most informed decision I can about what an accurate interpretation of these passages should be. Now, I don't claim to have any training in original language interpretation. So all I can do is read as much as I can and then go with my convictions (and that, by the way, is all that I can ask of anyone else).
There is, and probably always will be, more to say on this topic, so I'm not going to even attempt to make a comprehensive apology for homosexuality not being against the Word of God. Also, for anyone reading this who doesn't believe that the Bible is God's Word or should be used as applicable to our lives: you are not the people that I'm writing this to. Because, for you, it just doesn't matter. But for me and for my family and many of my friends and my church, this issue is crucial. And, far more importantly, it is crucial to anyone who is not a heterosexual, no matter what label they carry, who has been hurt or rejected or shamed by the church. So, because I started by talking about Martin Luther, I too am going to break down what I have to say into a number of different points. Although I don't have 95. I don't think I'd ever finish...
I know that not everyone who reads this will "accept it." But I ask you to at least try and understand. Try to look past yourself, your own lack of understanding about same-sex attraction, your own traditions. I may not be able to change anyone's minds. But this is no longer just me spewing a political belief. It is an apology, a call to action, a call for reformation. I believe that revolution is coming, particularly on this issue. It will change the church forever, and so I ask you, do you have the courage, like Martin Luther and his followers, to answer that call? I know it's scary, and you may have to risk everything, but you are called to scrutinize teachings in light of the Bible. And, once you have sought and found the truth, you are called to action. And you are called to reformation.
One final word, and with this I actually am making an apology in the traditional sense of the word. To anyone and everyone who has been hurt by the church's traditional views on sexual orientation: please know that I am so sorry and heartbroken that we, the church, have hurt and attacked and shamed you. That is not who Jesus is. That is not who I am. I am sorry for every last tear, every fear, every feeling of shame and rejection. You are not alone. You are loved,. You are loved for exactly who you are. And who you are and who you love, God has declared it "very good."
Sources:
http://www.soulforce.org/
http://matthewvines.tumblr.com/
www.wouldjesusdiscriminate.org/
"For The Bible Tells Me So"
http://www.religioustolerance.org/hom_bibl.htm
http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/
I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again, but one of my greatest heroes in life is the 20th century suffragist, Alice Paul. She was willing to be jailed, go on a hunger strike, and be force fed, all in the name of taking the first of many steps on the road to female equality: the ballot. And I often think that I would be willing to go those same length to fight for my convictions.
But here's the thing: it's not the United States government that I worry about disagreeing with my beliefs. I don't worry that, by standing up for myself and my convictions, the government will choose to find an excuse to lock me in a cell and throw away the key.
But there is another institution that I worry about rejecting me and people that I know will not accept the things that I have to say. That institution is the Christian church and those people are many of my closest family and friends. But I can't let that stop me. I just can't anymore.
Throughout my years in high school and college, I remember pastors and youth leaders calling for "revolution." But they were never very clear about what that revolution was supposed to mean or do. Yeah, they made vague references to influencing the world towards "Christian" ways or somehow re-shaping our culture, but there was no specific call to action. I think part of that was because they simply had no clue what a revolution truly is.See, the Christian church has gone through revolutions before, although it is more commonly called a "reformation." Yes, I am talking about the "Great Reformation," sparked by that quintessential moment when Martin Luther nailed his 95-Theses to the door of the Catholic church in Wittenburg, Germany. And while, for years, I've known about this unilateral act by Martin Luther, I don't think I ever really considered what that must have meant for him. Specifically, I never contemplated how very much courage it must have taken not only Martin Luther, but every single one of his followers to actually be willing to turn away from the Catholic church, risking (according to the Catholic church) their very souls.
Going against the established church back in the 15th century was, or course, far more courageous than any push against the established church today because, for Martin Luther and his contemporaries, there was only one church. Today, the organized church is not one whole unit; it is splintered into dozens or even hundreds of different denominations, some with only minute disagreements among themselves, others with near catastrophic differences. So I'm not claiming to even come close to comprehending the amount of courage that it took for Martin Luther to nail that document to that church door. I just don't know. But I do know something about fearing rejection by the established church, even with a definition of such a thing as the "established" church being murky at best.
But nonetheless, I do believe that the church today, however it may be defined, does desperately need revolution. And although it is a different scale, it does still take courage to stand up and call for it. And it is a lack of courage that has kept me from speaking out and calling for change for a long time now. But it has kept me from even coming to my own personal conclusions, despite my own convictions, for even longer.
One of the things that Martin Luther fought for was the ability of everyday man to have access to the very pages of Scripture that the Catholic church was abusing. Since that day, people, through reading the Bible themselves, have had the power to figure out for themselves what to believe about specific passages and the ways that those passages should impact their lives.
Over the last several decades, though, something else has changed: the church has decided that, on a vast many topics, only one interpretation is considered valid. Now, people are supposed to just accept the English interpretations of some, at times, very obscure texts written hundreds of years ago in ancient Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. These interpretations can range from only slightly subjective to extremely biased. And yet we, as Christians, are simply supposed to blindly subject our belief systems and actions to the choices that these translators have made. And for a lot of issues, that wouldn't bother me. But there is one issue, in particular, that I can't just blindly accept anymore. In fact, I haven't been able to blindly accept it for a long time.
The issue I'm talking about is one that is, in so many Christian circles, seen as the "worst of the worst." It's used to hate and bash and blame and yell and diminish and hurt. Oh, so much hurt.
Some of you may already have figured it out, but just to be explicitly clear: the issue that I'm talking about is homosexuality. And, to be clear, when I say in the title that I'm making an "apology" for homosexuality, I'm not saying that I'm somehow trying to make amends. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm using the term "apology" in the context of a theologically based argument.
So I've studied the issue, looked at the original Greek or Hebrew words, examined context and culture, all to try and make the most informed decision I can about what an accurate interpretation of these passages should be. Now, I don't claim to have any training in original language interpretation. So all I can do is read as much as I can and then go with my convictions (and that, by the way, is all that I can ask of anyone else).
There is, and probably always will be, more to say on this topic, so I'm not going to even attempt to make a comprehensive apology for homosexuality not being against the Word of God. Also, for anyone reading this who doesn't believe that the Bible is God's Word or should be used as applicable to our lives: you are not the people that I'm writing this to. Because, for you, it just doesn't matter. But for me and for my family and many of my friends and my church, this issue is crucial. And, far more importantly, it is crucial to anyone who is not a heterosexual, no matter what label they carry, who has been hurt or rejected or shamed by the church. So, because I started by talking about Martin Luther, I too am going to break down what I have to say into a number of different points. Although I don't have 95. I don't think I'd ever finish...
- First and arguably most importantly, we need to be constantly aware about the context in which we are speaking, specifically about the impact that what we have to say has on people's lives. No one lives in a vacuum, so simply making a proclamation such as "homosexuality is wrong" or any variation similar to that touches people's lives. It is a statement about someone's very identity. Even if you hold the belief that people can "choose" whether or not to be gay, you still need to be aware that the majority, if not all non-heterosexual people feel that their sexual orientation is a part of who they are as a person. So making the aforementioned proclamation attacks a person's very identity. It can lead others to a lack of understanding, fear, and hatred. These things, in turn, can and do lead to violence. We need to be aware of this context before going any further.
- We need to be open to learning new truths from the Bible, even if that means changing long-, strongly-, and traditionally-held beliefs. The apostle Paul had to be struck blind by God to turn from traditional Judaism and the apostle Peter saw a sheet lowered from Heaven in a dream in order to change his beliefs about Biblical teachings. Martin Luther sparked the Protestant Reformation. Churches across this country for years believed and taught that slavery was Scripture-sanctioned, interracial marriage was wrong, and women should hold no leadership roles. Yes, we believe that the Bible and God are both infallible, but that says nothing of you or me. We, as humans, are far from infallible. We are prone to errors, mistranslations, and misinterpretations. And it's prideful to think otherwise.
- Now, I think another important thing to be aware of when digging into this issue on a Biblical level is realizing that every book, chapter, and verse of the Bible fits together to tell a single story, all revolving around God's radical love for mankind manifested most fully and most poignantly in the personhood of Jesus Christ. So, when examining a specific and, at times, seemingly obscure passage that seems to address homosexuality, it is primarily important to put that passage into context. It's important to ask how this passage furthers God's message of love and salvation. So, when looking at specific passages for an answer to questions about sexuality or sex, it's crucial to remember that the Bible is not a book written about sex or orientation or identity. It's a book about God and by God about who He is and His love for us.
- Furthermore, there was no definitive word in the Biblical languages that is equivalent to a modern understanding of monogamous, committed homosexual relationships. There just wasn't. I'll get into what the words sometimes translated as "homosexual" are talking about in a bit, but for now it's important to be aware of this simple fact.
- Now, moving on to those specific passages used by people to try to condemn homosexuality. First, and most notably, there is the infamous story of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 18:16-19:14). This story is the origin of the degrading term "sodomy" and its derivatives. We likely all know the tale: two angels who came in the form of men, go to Sodom to retrieve Abraham's nephew, Lot, in advance of the city's predicted destruction. Now this is an important point: the city was already doomed even before the angels entered the city. Now, the saga that occurs once those angels enter the city have nothing to do with homosexual relations as we know them today. It is a story of a complete lack of hospitality and, yes, of savagery. But that savagery is in relation to an attempted gang rape. Yes, the intended perpetrators were men and, yes, their intended victims were men. But rape has NOTHING to do with sex, and EVERYTHING to do with exerting power and control. We don't have any clue what the sexual orientation of those offenders was! But you don't have to take my word for it. The prophet Ezekiel makes clear that the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah that doomed them to destruction was that they were rich and prosperous but did not care for the poor and needy among them (Ezekiel 16:48-49 - "This is the sin of Sodom; she and her suburbs had pride, excess food, and prosperous ease, but did not help or encourage the poor and needy. They were arrogant and this was abominable in God's eyes."). Likewise, in Matthew 10 and Luke 10, Jesus refers to the sin of Sodom as the sin of inhospitality. So the point that God is making in this story is heard clearly in Micah: "do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8).
- The second most oft quoted passage used to condemn homosexuality is Leviticus 18:22; 20:13. These are the verses that declare that, if a man lies with another man, it is an abomination and they should be executed. But let's put these verses into context: just around these verses are "condemnations" of a man sleeping with a women while she is on her period. It declares that this is an abomination and that both the man and the woman should be executed! Leviticus also seemingly condemns tattoos (oops!!), wearing clothing of mixed fabrics (no cotton/poly blends for you!), eating pork or even playing with its skin (so, sorry Ravens, no Superbowl title for you. It's an abomination!) My point being, the Levitical code needs to be taken with a grain of salt and understood in context. It's a book written by Moses primarily to the Levitical priesthood about how the priests should conduct their lives. Some of it is addressed to the Hebrew nation as a whole, but the entire point of it was to call Israel to a higher, nay an impossibly high standard so that Israel would be a nation set-apart, completely distinct from every surrounding culture. Furthermore, the word "abomination" that is used throughout this Holiness code has a very different meaning from the way it is commonly understood. The Hebrew word was "TO'EBAH" and it is in reference to behaviours that people in a particular place and time find tasteless and offensive. Ergo, which acts are "TO'EBAH" will change depending upon your circumstances. When Paul declared that it is ok for Christians to eat pork, he was talking about the requirements listed in this Levitical holiness code, and he said that it does not pertain to Christians! Likewise, the Levitacal holiness code said not to work on the Sabbath, yet Jesus openly declared that to be not applicable. So why, according to this Levitical code, was it "TO'EBAH" for a man to sleep with another man? It's the same reason why Genesis 38:9-10 condemns a man "spilling his seed on the ground" (this has been used to condemn masturbation or even "pulling out" as an act of birth control). It was because they believed that man's seed contained the entire essence of life (and woman was just the incubator for that seed) and the Israelites were trying to expand their nation in order to fulfill God's command and promise that they reproduce and fill the earth. So, in today's context, there are and probably should be a certain standard of sexual conduct expected for Christ followers, but it doesn't find its root in the Levitical code. Furthermore, we now understand the biological process of reproduction exponentially better than the Israelites ever did, and most Christians agree that we are no longer under the strict command to "fill the earth" (i.e. reproduce endlessly without birth control).
- Next, I want to talk about two passages together: the creation story in Genesis 1-2 and the passage in Romans 1 used to condemn both gay and lesbian relations. So in the Genesis story, you see God displaying awesome power in his creation of the entire world, from the sky above to the earth below, to the plants and the animals, and finally, to man and woman. Throughout the entire creation process, God keeps stopping and declaring an end to every day of work with "It is good." When he creates man, he declares him "very good." But then something happens: God declares something "not good." He says, "it is not good for man to be alone." And so he creates a woman, Eve, to be his suitable companion. And again he declares it "very good." Now here is where most critics of homosexuality from a Biblical perspective come in with snarky signs that say "God created Adam and EVE" not "Adam and STEVE." And it's true. For Adam, his suitable companion was Eve. But does that inherently mean that EVERY man's suitable companion is a woman? And vice versa? Well, first, from a practical perspective, if God had made two men, there could have been no children, no "reproduce and fill the earth." And equally if He had created two women. So, for Adam, with his duty to reproduce, the only suitable companion for him was a woman. But let's go back to that first premise: "It is not good for man to be alone." Now, the traditional interpretation and application of Christian doctrine on homosexuality is that, for a homosexual, he/she must necessarily remain alone, for although their suitable partner would be someone of the same gender, and, if that is morally wrong, he/she, as a Christian must refrain from acting on it. Forever. So, I have to ask: how can it be "good" for a gay person to forever remain alone? Doesn't that fly in the face of that first declaration of "not good" in reference to man's isolation? Now, Paul's teaches in Romans 1:26-27 that a man exchanging "natural" relations with a woman for "unnatural" relations with a man (and likewise, women exchanging "natural" relations with men for "unnatural" relations with each other). The passage is clear that it is talking about someone abandoning his/her former state (i.e. heterosexuality) for one that is unnatural for him/her. The verses preceding this passage are talking about people who previously knew God but abandoned Him to pursue worldy idols. So, in this light, for a straight man, any straight man, of course it is inherently "unnatural" for him to have sex with another man. But what about for a gay man? Wouldn't it be just as "unnatural" for him to stop sleeping with his male partner and start sleeping with a woman? For the passage is clear that the people in question were, in fact, already having relations with people of the opposite gender. So it is arguably safe to say that these people were, according to today's terminology, straight. Furthermore, let's look at the context surrounding this passage: Paul had just returned from Rome where he witnessed the odd sexual practices of priests and priestesses in the pagan temples. These practices ranged from drunken orgies to sleeping with young temple prostitutes (more on this in a minute) to castrating themselves. So he we exhorting the recipients of his letter to not be overtaken by a sexual obsession and sink into sexual depravity. So God gave them over to the natural consequences of their obsessions. To me, this says nothing of a lesbian woman and her life-long partner/wife (depending on the laws in their state) engaging in a healthy level of commitment, love and devotion in pursuit of honouring God comparable to a "traditional," Godly, heterosexual union. Furthermore, the one other time that Paul uses this term "nature" is in 1 Corinthians 11 wherein Paul describes it as "unnatural" for a woman to pray with her head uncovered and for a man to have long hair. The contexts and words used in these two passages are remarkably similar, but the way in which they are traditionally understood is markedly different. So the terms "natural" and "unnatural," it would seem, refer to customs of the time. It does not refer to biology or sexual orientation, but to customs and idolatry and unbridled passions.
- Finally, and on this I want to be perfectly clear and very blunt: the word "homosexual" never appeared in the Bible until the late 1940s at the earliest. It is now used to translate the Greek word "arsenokoitai." This word first appears in 1 Corinthians 6:9 and again in 1 Timothy 1:10 and its translation is murky, at best. Also appearing in these verses is another troublesome Greek word, "malokois," often translated as either "effeminate call boys" or as "male prostitutes." The primary interpretation of the second word, "malokois" refers to young boys who were shaved clean and traded at the temple for money. Others say that the literal interpretation of "malokois" is "soft" and refers to people who are lazy or cowardly. Whichever may be more accurate is unclear, as this is a vague term often used in lists of general vices. And, although the word "arsenokoitai" is hardly ever found in any of Paul's contemporary Greek literature, we can be pretty sure, from the context in which it is written, that the term refers to those people whom today's society would label "dirty old men" or, to put it more bluntly, the pedophiles who pay for sex with the "malokois." Every other use of the term following Paul's (which is the first known use of the word) refers to some form of sexual and economic exploitation. So this word, as best we can tell, has nothing whatsoever to do with a loving, faithful same-sex relationship. Therefore, it would seem that Paul's condemnation of "arsenokoitai" and "malokois" is a condemnation of exploitative, sexual relationships, especially pedophilia.
- And my final and most crucial point comes from Matthew 19:4-5, 11-12. These long-forgotten passages specifically affirm homosexuals who are "born that way" (yes, apparently, Jesus knew of Gaga even before Gaga existed). In the first portion of the passage, it is Jesus' explanation of the reasons behind marriage. He says "Have you not read that the One who made them at the beginning made them male and female... For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife and the two shall become one flesh? Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one separate." Jesus then allows for three exceptions to this rule, "Not everyone can accept this word, but only those to whom it has been given. For some eunuchs because they were born that way; others were made that way by men; and others have renounced marriage because of the kingdom of heaven. The one who can accept this should accept it." So, what on earth is this talk of "eunuchs?" Well, eunuchs were highly ranked but socially "deviant" men who were supposed to protect and serve the female royalty without feeling sexual or romantic attraction for them. So, in layman's terms, the last one seems pretty simply: those who choose celibacy to serve God (Paul would probably fall into this category); those who are castrated (or otherwise made impotent at the hands of man); and those who innately do not feel sexual attraction to women. Now, this last category could, in theory, apply to that EXTREMELY small group of people who are born without "parts," for lack of a better term. But, because this is so incredibly rare (and it's unlikely that society even recognized this group of people during Jesus' time), it is far more likely that, here, Jesus is referring to men who are not attracted to women because they are, in fact, attracted to men. As I already emphasized, there was no language in Jesus' time to describe homosexual orientation as we know it today, so it seems to me that Jesus expressed his affirmation of homosexual orientation in the only language that he knew how: through a seemingly obscure reference to "eunuchs" who are "born that way." Furthermore, when this reference to "born eunuchs" is used in other writings around that time, it is associated with men who are sexually attracted to each other. And Jesus stated that those with that orientation "should accept it." This, to me reads that homosexuals should embrace their orientation as natural and live their lives accordingly. Furthermore, when Phillip comes across an Ethiopian eunuch on his travels, although we do not know for sure if he was a born eunuch, it seems like a fair assumption, especially in light of his reading material (Isaiah 53's passage regarding suffering and rejection) that he was, in fact, gay, Philip does not condemn or tell him that he cannot be baptized. Instead, he says if you believe with all your heart, you may." (See Acts 8:26-40).
I know that not everyone who reads this will "accept it." But I ask you to at least try and understand. Try to look past yourself, your own lack of understanding about same-sex attraction, your own traditions. I may not be able to change anyone's minds. But this is no longer just me spewing a political belief. It is an apology, a call to action, a call for reformation. I believe that revolution is coming, particularly on this issue. It will change the church forever, and so I ask you, do you have the courage, like Martin Luther and his followers, to answer that call? I know it's scary, and you may have to risk everything, but you are called to scrutinize teachings in light of the Bible. And, once you have sought and found the truth, you are called to action. And you are called to reformation.
One final word, and with this I actually am making an apology in the traditional sense of the word. To anyone and everyone who has been hurt by the church's traditional views on sexual orientation: please know that I am so sorry and heartbroken that we, the church, have hurt and attacked and shamed you. That is not who Jesus is. That is not who I am. I am sorry for every last tear, every fear, every feeling of shame and rejection. You are not alone. You are loved,. You are loved for exactly who you are. And who you are and who you love, God has declared it "very good."
Sources:
http://www.soulforce.org/
http://matthewvines.tumblr.com/
www.wouldjesusdiscriminate.org/
"For The Bible Tells Me So"
http://www.religioustolerance.org/hom_bibl.htm
http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/
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