Fully Human in Every Way

For surely it is not the angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. For this reason he had to be made like them, fully human in every way… Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Hebrews 2.16-18)

PLU

Has it only been a few years since “gay” gained widespread usage as a non-pejorative adjective? It feels like it’s been with us always. But prior to the mid-1990s, it was a label—typically an unkind one. Before it shed much of its derogation, gay people regularly resorted insider slang. Gay men were often called “friends of Dorothy” (presumably alluding to The Wizard of Oz heroine and its star, Judy Garland) or “members of the choir.” Lesbians were “sisters of Sappho,” named for the Greek poet who lived on the isle of Lesbos and scribed love songs to women. Bisexuals were “switch-hitters” and, to our shame, argot for transsexual/transgendered people in our community was too charmless and abrasive to repeat. Collectively, we were “PLU”—People Like Us.

The acronym was heavily weighted with subtext. To describe someone as PLU flagged more than same-sex orientation. It indicated he/she belonged to us—was one of us—whether or not she/he was out or involved in community life. The strains and astonishments of being gay were what made People Like Us people like us. While none of our stories was exactly alike, the sentiment behind PLU declared “we’ve all been there.” (One of the truest generalizations about our community is our fondness for generalizations.) And though slang for dozens of LGBT stereotypes lard the “lavender lexicon”—yes, we even have slang for our slang—one need not fit any mold to qualify as PLU. Having survived, and continuing to survive, the gay experience was sufficient.

Now that the “gay” stigma has softened, “PLU” has fallen from usage. Yet the phenomenon of basic inclusion persists, as with all communities built on shared culture and experience. The PLU principle applies to any collective, including the Body of Christ. Which is why it’s no surprise to open Hebrews 2 and read that God found it necessary to become like us in order to belong to us.

The Jesus Puzzle

Strange as it seems, the Early Church’s biggest dilemma is pinpointing where Jesus fits into its radically unorthodox beliefs. To the Apostles—who served with Him, learned from Him, and witnessed His life first-hand—it’s a no-brainer. Jesus is The Christ, God made human to atone for our failures and free us from fear. To newcomers, this is a brand new, completely foreign construct riddled with contradictions no one can logically resolve. Jews, Greeks, Turks, or Romans, they’re part of a global culture with very rigid ideas about deities and mortals. Their texts and legends stress logical divides that separate supernatural forces governing nature from human submission to their will. So the question troubling many first-century believers is, “Was Jesus human or divine?” While they could accept Him as one or the other (and doctrines that lean either way start popping up in no time), the notion that Jesus was/is both doesn’t compute.

It doesn’t compute because early Christians see no reason why Jesus should be God and man. God’s role is unique to God. Our role is unique to us. That God would choose to be like us makes no sense to them. Of course, it makes sense to us because it requires faith and faith is what Christianity’s all about. In its dawning days, however, with the concept of faith in God’s grace and acceptance still in its infancy, the Jesus puzzle is a brain-buster for everyone but the Apostles. It’s particularly hard for converts from fear-based, legalistic religions like Judaism. The author of Hebrews comes to their rescue with a splendidly logical rationale for Jesus’s coexistent humanity and divinity. Pulling a verse here and there from his/her deposition on Christ’s humanity deprives us of its full impact. Here’s why it was essential that Jesus become people like us:

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. For this reason he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Hebrews 2.14-18)

Vast Capabilities

When we can’t say why we succumb to fears and temptations, we reach for the age-old, one-size-fits-all excuse: “We’re only human,” as if we’ve tapped every ounce of will and strength to defy fear and temptation. But it’s no excuse because Jesus gave lie to the ruse. God decided to become like us—and belong to us—to demonstrate the vast capabilities imbedded in our humanity. Jesus wasn’t only human. He was fully human in every way. His flesh ached at times and tingled at others, just like ours. His blood boiled with rage, cooled with disappointment, and flowed with ardor, just like ours. He battled the same fears we battle, subjecting Himself to hunger and thirst, exposure to poverty and disease, hatred and anger, pushing Himself to the brink of exhaustion. He didn’t stop being fully human until death broke His body in excruciating pain. Only then did He retaliate, breaking the power of death and its terror for our sake.

Jesus gave Himself to the whole of mortal experience—its joys, sorrows, worries, and wonders—to show us what being fully human in every way looks like. He set the standard for people like us, who’ve decided to follow His example. Had Jesus been God alone, His life would hold no relevance for us. Had He been nothing but a man, faith we confide in His compassion and understanding would amount to hero worship. What we see in Jesus is more than enough to persist in our quest to be fully human in every way. He became people like us so we could become people like Him.

In being fully human in every way, Jesus set the standard for people like us, who’ve decided to follow His example.

Set Them Free

The cowering prisoners will soon be set free; they will not die in their dungeon, nor will they lack bread. For I am the LORD your God, who churns up the sea so that its waves roar... I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand. (Isaiah 51.14-16)

Exponentially and Continuously

October 11 is National Coming Out Day (NCOD) in the States and many European countries. (The UK observes it on 12 October.) It’s a relatively new tradition, and we’re just getting the hang of it. One might think of it along these lines: as US Independence Day is to Election Day, LGBT Pride is to NCOD. Pride celebrates freedom to be counted as equally recognized and honorable members of society; NCOD creates an occasion for women and men who’ve not yet embraced their freedom to do so. Since it involves no polls, there are no reliable data to assess its real impact. Yet even if we could calculate how many took advantage of NCOD, the figure—whether 5 or 5 million—would concede a gulf-sized margin of error to account for not including everyone, regardless of orientation, who quits the closet alongside the newly out LGBT individual. Coming out must be measured exponentially and continuously, because none of us comes out alone—whatever our closets may be (and we’ll get to that in a minute).

Calling off the hide-and-seek routine initiates a journey. The instant we say, “This is who I am and where I’m going,” we essentially ask everyone who hears (and hears of) our declaration: “Are you coming or not?” Thankfully, some hurry to join us, saying, “It’s about time!” Others come along despite uncertainty they’re equipped for the journey. Some need more time to process the information we just dropped in their laps—information we’ve had years to absorb—and send us off with promises to catch up, which they ultimately honor. Then, sadly, others want no part of it. They issue an ultimatum: “If you quit this closet, we’re through.” That’s why we can never know exactly how many people come out. It’s Henry + 6 x the people they inform (- those who stay behind). It’s Nancy + 250 x their friends and neighbors (- others who refuse to leave her closet).

What Do We Do?

The person coming out is never one data point, but a cluster of them that continues to multiply as more supportive allies accumulate. We show them our respect and gratitude by factoring them into our thoughts and conversations about coming out. As Christians, however, we’re also compelled to consider the missing points—the people shackled to prejudice and fear, those who sever ties to us because they’ve wound their love around doctrines, dogmas, and myths, and, finally, the unfortunates who filter every difficulty they face through their what’s-in-it-for-me sieve. What do we do—what can we do—for the people who can’t, don’t, or won’t leave our closets to take this journey with us?

We set them free.

Not us. Them. We set them free. This is where coming out ceases to be about us. Surely we understand those who willfully remain behind. How can we not, having fled the very terrors that torment them? It took years for us to muster the courage to defy it. Their reticence shouldn’t shock us in the least. Can we comfortably accuse them of conscious hatred, hypocrisy, and cowardice after inflicting the same harms—and many more like them—on ourselves? How soon we forget the doubt and confusion that darkened our lives!

Because we weren’t honest with God, others, or ourselves before coming out, we often look back on the closet as no more real than we were while trapped inside it. It’s now a cliché we’ve outgrown, a cartoon chamber of horrors we sneer at. But the closet remains very real to everyone it holds. It’s a prison that warps the heart of anyone too weak to resist its pressures. We recall the crippling grip of cowardice and the pain it hides in mean talk and hateful postures. The closet’s realities must never escape us. People we dearly love still languish there. And though we’re out of the closet, we won’t truly be released from it until we’ve done all we possibly can to set them free.

Answering Under Cover

“Okay!” I hear some complain. “The horse is dead. Put your stick down and tell us how we rescue our loved ones. What has to be done to tear the closet down?” We don’t tear it down. And we most certainly don’t go back into it, thinking we can sneak them out. (I know several who’ve tried and ended up worse off than before they came out—a few going so far as to submit to voodoo mind control therapy, attempting to reshape God’s image to reflect their fears. Oh yes, the closet is an extremely sinister place!) We free those still trapped in our closets by speaking and living freely. While they may claim they no longer care about us and may even say they hate who we’ve become, never doubt they’re attentively observing and listening to us. More likely than not, they watch because they’re primed to expect we’ll one day reappear at the closet door, begging forgiveness and readmission, like prodigals who’ve squandered their dignity on high living and carnal pursuits. In other words, they wait for us to fail. They don’t want us to fail, but they’re convinced we need to and we will. And that’s okay, because their attention is all that matters. With that, we have a God-given opportunity to demonstrate what freedom and integrity look like.

When we dedicate our lives to our Maker and devote our energy to pleasing Him, what they actually see bears no resemblance to what they anticipate. As I’ve personally witnessed again and again, our departure from their closet-based assumptions will trouble them. It should, as coming out constitutes a profoundly daring leap of faith—an act of determination based on confidence that God made us and loves us as we are. And faith never goes unrewarded. So coming out changes us for the better. The trials and hardships that often follow the leap are sent to refine our character, correct our thoughts, and increase our faith. Coming out fixes our speech and amplifies our courage to calm the distress that troubles others. Listen closely to Isaiah 51.14-16. God promises what we say and the confidence we express will become keys that release those still locked in our closets:

The cowering prisoners will soon be set free; they will not die in their dungeon, nor will they lack bread. For I am the LORD your God, who churns up the sea so that its waves roar—the LORD Almighty is his name. I have put words in your mouth and covered you in the shadow of my hand—I who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth, and who say to Zion, "You are my people."

See how this works? God honors their faith by troubling their minds. The churning doubts and roaring disapproval come from Him. He honors our faith by enabling us to answer under cover—to speak words He puts in our mouths boldly and fearlessly, knowing His hand rests over us. It doesn’t matter what closet we have (or have yet to) come out of. The things we want to hide are things God wants to use. Nothing He gives us is unworthy or unsightly. Every trait and talent, everything that makes you uniquely you, is given to steer and sustain your journey. Shake off worries about what others will think or how they’ll respond to your freedom. Come out. Claim your gifts. Use them. Demonstrate freedom and integrity. You’re surrounded with people waiting for you to come out. You know people who won’t get it at first, but they’ll follow in time. And you also know people too threatened and uncertain to leave your closet. See God in their churning. Hear Him in their roars. His hand will shelter you so you can speak His word to their troubled minds. You may have to speak it over and over. But keep speaking. Keep being. Set them free.

It doesn’t matter why they’re watching, as long as we can show them the freedom and integrity that come from leaving our closets of fear and doubt.

Doxology: A Pride Reflection

Know that the LORD is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. (Psalm 100.3)

Rest

The past two weeks have brought a deluge of new work—always a good thing for freelancers like me, but in this economy, a virtual outpouring of God’s goodness. While Straight-Friendly and its family never left my thoughts and prayers, time to write and post new reflections hasn’t been there. This concerned me, particularly with the annual Pride celebrations looming closer. I somehow assumed the Holy Spirit would guide me to texts or thoughts lighted with urgency to explore. Yet every prayer for direction led me back to Psalm 100.3. Each time, I heard it as a song of praise—a doxology:

Know that the Lord is God.

It is He Who made us

And we are His.

We are His people—

The sheep of His pasture.

I rushed to explore what this praise says to all of us, gay and straight, female and male, younger and older, etc., etc., etc. We should embrace inner pride as sacred praise for our unique making. God’s acceptance releases us from shame and stigmatization. Knowing Him as our Maker and Shepherd protects us from predatory prejudice and condemnation. The words flowed like water springing from a well—up to a point. Then, like the “Amen” that ends liturgical doxologies and returns us to our seats, I repeatedly heard:

Rest.

The tone and comfort were indubitably those of our Creator and Keeper, the One Who crafts us by hand, Who places us where He wills, Who tirelessly watches over us, Who authors our circumstances, and, most important, Who knows us better than we know ourselves. “Rest.” Silly me, I took it mean, “This can wait. Go to bed. People will understand.” I knew that, of course, but it was a much-needed reminder. Then, this morning I awoke to a keener awareness of what it actually meant, what we should hear in the Psalm 100.3 doxology, and how that affects our understanding of Pride’s personal, cultural, and spiritual relevance.

Confidence

In this weekend’s cacophony of parades and parties, speeches and songs, God is speaking rest to His children everywhere—people of every race, gender, and orientation. He reminds us GLBT Pride, like any effort promoting equality and justice, will end in frustration if we listen only to what we say and think. Our vision will remain myopic and clarity won’t fully emerge until we hear our Creator and Shepherd speak rest to our spirits.

Does this suggest we cease our fight for freedom, equality, and justice for oppressed peoples everywhere? Emphatically not. God’s Word explicitly commands us to care for and defend the downtrodden, dispossessed, and abused among us. Abandoning them constitutes sin. Yet we can rest. As we go forth with passionate conviction, demanding the end of all social, legal, and religious strife, we carry in our hearts undying confidence they will end. Every step of progress brings us closer to our Creator and Shepherd’s intentions for His people, the sheep of His pasture.

Deliverance

The enormous strides made by the GLBT global community and its allies generate untold reasons to rejoice. We have every right to take pride in our progress to date. In many ways, the GLBT movement’s success stands as a case study in deliverance. It’s taken less than a half-century of unyielding effort to free multitudes, within and beyond our community, from shackles of fear, hatred, ignorance, and complacence. Thus, when gay people and their allies speak of “pride,” they—we—must acknowledge it long ago surpassed its original meaning: defiance of shame. Gay Pride now encompasses all oppressed peoples and shines a light on the promise of deliverance. More than that, it proves deliverance is a process, a steady evolution that overtakes hearts and minds, not overturns courts and institutions. Laws and restrictions change when the people who make them change.

There can be no doubt changes we’ve witnessed and those we hope to see exceed our capability to bring about. Daniel 2.21 says, “He changes times and seasons; he sets up kings and deposes them. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning.” It’s foolish to allow pride to swell into hubris. Our deliverance thus far has not come about through persuasive powers or political savvy. It is the work of a Creator Who thrives on change—Who sacrificed His Son’s life to enable change—and a Shepherd Who delivers His people by changing hearts and minds that shape our seasons.

Though the task seems too great, we rest in knowing God’s purpose will be done. Though justice we seek appears too elusive to be grasped, we rest in belief He has it well in hand. Though hateful forces display their might to turn tides of opinion away from God, we rest in certainty they are no stronger than the weakest among those they oppress. Our Maker favors none of us above another. He is our God. We are His people. No matter where we side on any issue or cause, it is He Who has made us and we are His. He will do as He sees fit. We revel in deliverance we’ve experienced thus far as our guarantee full and final deliverance will come.

God Pride

Whether actively engaging in this weekend’s festivities or rejoicing with the GLBT community from afar, it’s incumbent on every believer to discern God Pride hidden at its core. This holds true for every event that exults in human diversity or promotes freedom from social oppression and inequality. Innate pride in who we are is founded on inherent awareness each of us has divinely sanctioned equal worth. From the greatest to least, the best to worst, we all reflect our Creator. Differences that challenge us are merely singular aspects of God’s self-image. By themselves, they’re inconsequential. Only when they're seen as pieces of a whole do they acquire importance. Pride in who we are ultimately reveals inescapable—in some cases, involuntary—God Pride. It confesses our God-given desire to identify with Something greater, richer, and far more beautiful than anything we can possibly be on our own. Know the Lord is God. Know He has made you. You belong to Him. You number among His people, the sheep of His pasture. Nothing can change this, or ever will. Rest.

At its core, Gay Pride, like any diversity celebration or effort aimed at social inclusion and equality, expresses God Pride—recognition He is our Maker and we are His people.

Personal Postscript: Two Years Down This Road

It was during Pride Weekend 2008, that Straight-Friendly launched. I can’t really recall what I expected, but I know it was nothing like what I found. The past two years have been the most precious and productive of my life.

I can’t allow this milestone to pass without expressing my profound gratitude to all of you who’ve traveled this road with me. You have been constant, lifting me, enlightening me, feeding my soul with your comments and emails, and welcoming me into your hearts. You have changed my life in extraordinary ways, always helping me grow stronger and wiser in this marvelous faith we share. My debts to you are more than I can possibly repay. Yet I know with complete assurance you will be rightfully rewarded and blessed beyond measure for all you’ve done. Thank you.

With all my love,

Tim

After They Leave

From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him. “You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

                        John 6.66-68

No Fooling Around

Several years ago, a large, inclusive congregation felt moved to sponsor a church shepherded by and devoted to GLBT believers. Two uncommonly talented, visionary women—spiritual and life partners—answered the call to lead the flock. After several months of fieldwork, during which two to three dozen core members met in their home, they opened the doors of a lovely, spacious sanctuary. A modest attendance of 50 or so came to the first service. Within a week’s time, though, word of a new “gay church” led by two dynamic women spread through the community. The next Sunday’s service was packed wall-to-wall. Yet as worship continued, a totally inappropriate “cruisy” atmosphere coalesced, leaving no doubt many had come seeking more than a refuge of faith.

When time came for one of the ministers to deliver the sermon, she surprised everyone by departing from the bulletin’s text. In fact, she left Scripture altogether and based her message on Talking Heads’ “Life During Wartime”: “This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no fooling around.” She gently laid out the church’s vision and mission. “This sanctuary is not and will never be a site for socializing,” she told her audience. “It’s a base station for spiritual development and social change.” Then she shocked everyone. Instead of welcoming new members to the church, she asked those seeking anything beyond Christian growth to leave. And she waited. They trickled out slowly at first, then more quickly, leaving less than 100 behind. Today, every seat is filled with believers of every ethnicity, class, and orientation. Its reputation is well known in the GLBT community as well as the local, predominately straight community it sits in. When it comes to following Jesus and serving others, these people don’t fool around.

Spiritual Hunger

As unorthodox as the minister’s actions seem, she was well within her pastoral rights and had Scriptural precedent for thinning the herd. In John 6, Jesus does a very similar thing. He’s preaching in the synagogue at Capernaum, where a large crowd of would-be disciples has gathered in hopes he’ll repeat His miracle of multiplying a few loaves of bread to feed them all. Jesus challenges them on this: “You are looking for me, not because you saw miraculous signs but because you ate the loaves and had your fill. Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.” (v26-27) They ask how they can receive this bread, thinking it’s a special kind of wonder bread they can physically taste and digest.

Hearing that Jesus is referring to Himself as the Bread of Life sent from God, encouraging them to abandon their natural desires and satisfy their spiritual hunger, they start to grumble. They came to eat, not to swallow a lot of abstract principles. “This is hard teaching,” they complain. “Who can accept it?” (v60) Jesus doesn’t soften His stance. “Does this offend you?” He asks. (v61) “The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. Yet there are some of you who do not believe.” John tells us Jesus knew who in the crowd didn’t believe and would turn away. He essentially invites them to leave, saying in verse 65, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled him.” With that, they file out in droves. After they leave, Jesus asks His core group, the original 12, “Do you want to go too?” Speaking for the rest, Peter answers, “Where could we go? You have the words of eternal life.” They get it. This ain’t no party. This ain’t no fooling around.

Discipleship’s Appeal

Many, many people respond to discipleship’s appeal without knowing or acknowledging it demands tremendous self-discipline and scrutiny. It denies natural appetites to satisfy spiritual hunger. Unfortunately, natural desires often account for why some decide to follow Christ. They’re not looking for life-changing truth or miracles that nurture their spirits. They rally around Jesus for loaves and fishes to feed personality-driven cravings. They flock to Him for quick, easy answers to long-term, difficult problems. They mistake sanctuaries for social clubs and use involvement in ministry as a means to validate their power and popularity. They give to get. And then, when their personal agendas and God’s plan collide, they start grumbling and eventually move on. As true believers, we’ll see this happen over and over. After they leave, it’s important to reaffirm our reasons for staying with Jesus, because herd mentality can be remarkably persuasive. It often takes great courage to tell friends who say, “Let’s go,” “No thank you. I’m going to stick around.”

We stay because Jesus has the words of eternal life. Other teachers and philosophies have merit, yet He is our Bread of Life. He feeds our beings’ hunger to know God, to live in renewed relationship with Him, and to fulfill His purpose for creating us as we are. No other teacher equals Jesus, simply because none ever died to defeat death and redeem our right to everlasting life. Nowhere else do we find greater emphasis on God’s unconditional love and acceptance, or greater evidence of their reality, than we see in Christ. People will come and go. Some will flirt with faith for years, returning and leaving repeatedly. Widespread hardship and popular trends will bloat the ranks and once the truth of discipleship’s demands become apparent, the tide will recede. But if we’re following Jesus out of authentic spiritual hunger, we’ll remain behind after they leave. He is our Bread. His truth sustains us. His words speak life to our souls.

Others may leave in droves, but if we’re truly hungry for the Bread of Life, we’ll stay.

(Tomorrow: Timeless Treasure, Temporal Clay)

Revisiting Landmarks

Six days before the Passover, Jesus arrived at Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.

                        John 12.1

Going Back to Move Ahead

Bethany is the final place Jesus visits prior to His triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Situated on the southeast slope of the Mount of Olives, it sits just a mile-and-a-half outside the capitol. Travelers often pause there to freshen up, water their animals, and take a deep breath before heading into Jerusalem’s big-city hubbub. Jesus has more in mind than sprucing up, though; His decision to stop at the village comes not by coincidence. He’s altogether aware that once He passes through Jerusalem’s gates, there’s no turning back. He’s always been welcomed and appreciated in Bethany. His dear friends, Lazarus, Mary, and Martha, live there. He performed one of His greatest miracles there by restoring Lazarus to life. So Bethany holds many fond memories for Jesus, and in the manner of many facing certain arrest, conviction, and execution, He makes a point of calling on His beloved friends and supporters one last time before walking into destiny. He’s going back to move ahead. Ironically, what happens during His layover there cements His fate.

Open Arms

Obviously, the good people of Bethany haven’t the slightest inkling this is Jesus’s farewell visit. What He’ll soon experience is beyond their imagination. Unlike Nazareth—where He was run out of town after chiding His childhood neighbors and relatives for looking for His wonders rather than listening to His words—any time Jesus comes to Bethany, He’s received with open arms. (This explains why He works miracles there that Nazareth never sees.) Bethany loves Jesus for Who He is, not what He does, and they treat His arrival on this Saturday before Passover as a homecoming event. After sundown brings Sabbath’s end, they give a dinner in His honor. Martha waits table. Lazarus sidles up near Jesus, eager to spend time with the Friend Who gave Him life.

Taking some license with John, it’s easy to envision Mary seated at distance, overcome with emotion while watching the brother she’d lost dining with Jesus. An uncontrollable urge seizes her. She rushes off and returns with her prize possession, a jar of costly perfume. Boldly, as convention frowns on women interrupting male conversation, she pours the fragrance on Christ’s feet and towels them with her hair. Her gesture stuns everyone, none more than Judas, who’s appalled by her excess. “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor?” he asks. Jesus silences Judas’s protest with a rebuke indicating Mary’s lavish gratitude for a past resurrection signals another to come. “Leave her alone,” He says. “She was saving this to anoint My body after death.” Two extraordinary, inextricably linked things coincide in that moment. Judas’s outraged disapproval turns him against Jesus and Jesus predicts His corpse won’t remain lifeless long enough to require preservation. By this time next week, both men will be dead. Only one will rise.

Choosing the Route

So often when facing unfavorable inevitabilities, we withdraw under the impression what’s coming is ours to face alone. We walk in solitude, staring at trials looming ahead, hanging on to every moment before the unavoidable will wait no longer. But here Christ teaches us the importance of choosing the route we take to confront our problems. Before we plunge into ordeals, we should follow His example and take time to return—if not physically, then mentally—to people who love us for who we are and places where we knew God’s power in very real, life-affirming ways. Revisiting landmarks provides invaluable assurance and solace while hazarding our way through future unpredictability and anxiety. Past accomplishments and feats of kindness become touchstones that keep us steady when failure seems likely and cruelty engulfs us. I can’t help but think Jesus looked at Lazarus and saw Himself leaving His own tomb. Possibly even on the cross, staring down as His life’s blood pooled at its base, Lazarus came to mind. In those final moments, confidence in His resurrection held firm if for no other reason than He’d recently reunited with a friend who experienced resurrection.

But revisiting landmarks also achieves two other benefits. The acceptance and gratitude we rediscover there bring clarity to what we will find as we move on. Mary based her offering on the past, yet Christ received it as a promise for the future. And finally, returning to sites of indubitable strength provides contrast we need to separate hangers-on and bad influences from legitimate friends. John says Judas objected to Mary’s generosity “not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief.” Surrounded by genuine love for Jesus, Judas revealed his true colors. Though he stuck with the other disciples until the Passover, his actions in Bethany already belied his loyalty to Christ. In times of trial, the last things we need are so-called friends covertly opposing us. Pausing to reflect on people who prove their faithfulness and devotion again and again often awakens us to reality of those traveling with us. In the end, what began as a homecoming banquet became a going-away celebration. It’s always that way with revisiting landmarks. We go back so we can move ahead.

Lazarus was living proof of Christ’s resurrecting power. (Giotto di Bondone: Raising of Lazarus; circa 1320)

(Tomorrow: In the Name of the Lord)

Postscript: Speaking of Landmarks…

You all heard the news, I’m sure. After supposedly progressive states like California and Arizona expressly vote against Constitutional equality for all, Iowa sneaks up and reaffirms it. I’m happy to leave political opinions to the pundits, religious opinions to the preachers, and personal opinions to the people. But as an American and Midwesterner, I couldn’t possibly let the moment pass without paying tribute to the state next door and its Supreme Court’s commitment to liberty and justice for all. In the words of The Music Man’s author and composer, Meredith Willson, “You really ought to give Iowa a try!”

“Iowa Stubborn” from The Music Man (1962).

Repost: The Unnatural Lifestyle

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

                        Hebrews 11.1

Redefining Terms

Less than two years ago, the Center on Halsted, Chicago’s magnificent new home for GLBT-related services, opened. A Whole Foods grocery was up and running next door not long thereafter. Strolling along the opposite side of the street with a friend, he halted to stare at the adjacent establishments. “Do you see what I see?” he asked. Both places were busy. Both were beautiful—particularly given the block-long eyesore they replaced. Both were tremendous assets to our neighborhood. Knowing my friend, who never passes an opening for a zinger, I felt sure he spotted something I missed. “Look,” he said, motioning toward Whole Foods with a gesture worthy of Vanna White, “all natural.” OK. So? “Now look,” he said, directing the same smooth move toward the Center, “all unnatural.” When I didn’t respond, he offered to replay it. “I get it,” I said with obvious irritation. “You’re clever. Too bad you’re not funny.”

“Unnatural” is a despicable word loaded with malicious connotations. Worst of all, though, people who tag others as “unnatural” at the same time boast of being “natural.” They expect everyone to define the world—and themselves—on their terms. Such arrogance and ignorance are astounding. With very, very few exceptions “unnatural” is a misnomer because it’s no easier for humans to override their native instincts than any other creature. What seems unnatural to one is inherently natural to another. And while I seriously doubt someone would, or successfully could, consciously defy how he/she is created, there is an unnatural lifestyle every one of us should pursue. If we do, we’ll discover it redefines how we act, speak, think, and what we believe about everything else.

Living Right

Anyone with a glancing knowledge of Christianity knows that its followers—make that its true followers—hope for one thing only in this life: to live righteously before God and man. Not once, but three times, in three different epistles written to three different audiences, were early Christians given the key to living right: The righteous shall live by faith. (Romans 1.17; Galatians 3.11; Hebrews 10.38) This concept seems basic in theory, but it’s supremely difficult to practice. It ignores social logic, disputes life experience, discounts personality, and rejects common sense. It’s entirely counterintuitive to our emotional—and in some cases, physical—wellbeing and survival. In fact, when we follow Jesus, we embrace the most unnatural lifestyle known to man.

Proof the Christian walk completely defies human nature isn’t hard to find. It’s right in front of us, in black and white. Read everything Jesus said.  Never will you find Him endorsing “natural” thinking and behavior. Look no further than The Beatitudes (Matthew 5.3-10) and you’ll discover a sterling example of how thoroughly unnatural His impulses were. They rule out every “normal” characteristic and response we have. They oppose every emotion we channel to protect against every real or imaginary threat to our earthly success. They accept—they actually welcome—situations and outcomes we instinctively avoid. According to Jesus, the losers win it all—heaven, comfort, the earth, righteousness, mercy, God’s presence, and God’s name. And how do they gain these divine riches? By faith—remaining confident in their hopes and holding to what’s true with no visible evidence to support it. To the natural mind, this is crazy talk.

Radical Shifts

But Jesus knew what He was saying and He meant every word. Essentially, He pressed His listeners to forget everything they’d learned about earthly life and adopt the ways of perilously naïve creatures. He urged them to walk through the world like aliens who look at and experience what everyone else does yet draw entirely opposite meanings and rewards from it.

And that pretty much sums up how following Christ works and what it feels like. It lifts you out of the world—out of yourself—to see and understand things from a radically different angle. It hoists you above human instinct and reason. It confuses those around you and dramatically alters how you manage your life.  Consequently, it often leaves you alone with your doubts and problems. When you follow Jesus’s unnatural lifestyle, however, you see them through eyes of faith. You look at doubt and discover hope. Visible problems become invisible solutions. There's just no better way to live.

Originally posted 7/12/08.

Following Christ's path is the most unnatural lifestyle known to man.

(Tomorrow: Be Prepared)

Through the Roof

Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on.

                        Mark 2.4

Standing Room Only

Attracting multitudes has never been a problem for Jesus. From the earliest days of His ministry until now, His presence invariably has drawn standing-room-only crowds. If He’s there—or even rumored to be there—every imaginable type of person is bound to clamor after Him. It’s far from facetious to suggest there are as many reasons for this as there are people pushing and shoving to get close to Jesus. Some come sincerely. They earnestly seek His love, His healing, His wisdom, and His guidance. Some come curiously, wondering what compels others to be near Him. Selfish vanity brings some. They’re more interested in being identified with His crowd than identifying with His cause. And scorn for Christ urges some to show up. They’re there to dispute His every word and mock anyone who believes Him.

The validity of these and dozens of other reasons why Jesus is constantly surrounded are inconsequential. Being there is the thing, and when people land the closest possible spot to Him, there’s no moving them. This presents serious challenges for those who desperately need to reach Him. Inability to budge the genuine seekers, looky-loos, hangers-on, and nay-sayers—not to mention incapability to assess anyone’s real motives in the first place—often demands creative, unorthodox approaches to get to Christ. No better example of this exists than Mark 2’s account of a few men who refused to be marginalized by the crowd.

The Mother of Invention

“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Plato wrote nearly 400 years before this incident. Yet what’s most moving here is the men’s inventiveness was born of another’s need. For all we know, they were able-bodied and might have squeezed into the crowd packed so tightly around Jesus, even though Mark insists, “There was no room left, not even outside the door.” These men, however, accompanied their friend, a paralytic whom four of them carried on a mat. Their urgent desire to take him to Jesus overpowered any logical concession that his condition made it impossible to navigate the crowd. It unleashed their courage to view the situation creatively. They climbed on top of the house, dug a hole directly above Jesus, and lowered their friend through the roof. According to Mark 2.5, “When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’”

Faith for Others

Because of their faith Jesus healed their paralyzed friend. All of us have paralyzed friends and loved ones—people we deeply care for who lack the will, strength, and confidence to get to Christ on their own. We know people hobbled by poverty, prejudice, and destructive addictions. We know individuals in the GLBT community who are crippled by shame, insecurity, and religious hatred. We know Christians immobilized by legalism, guilt, and fear of punishment. It’s our responsibility to help them reach Jesus by any means necessary.

We shouldn’t expect the masses gathered around Him to step aside for our disabled friends. Social taboos—like those that stigmatized the lame, the blind, lepers, and other victims of disease in Christ’s day—will encourage many to dismiss our friends as unfit and undesirable. Indeed, our friends may even believe such things about themselves. Blocked entrances, turned backs, and stubborn intransigence should inspire more inventive solutions. We may have to rise above the crowd, break through barriers, and go through the roof. But once we succeed, Jesus honors our faith for others and makes them whole.

It's our responsibility to do whatever it takes to help friends who can't reach Jesus on their own.

(Tomorrow: Other Sheep)

Loving and Loathing

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven: A time to love, and a time to hate…

                        Ecclesiastes 3.1, 8

The Time Is Now

Before turning to the Advent season, let’s wrap up our study of Solomon’s “Seasons of Life,” starting where we left off with a real doozy—loving and loathing--that immediately asks, “Is there ever a time to hate anyone?” Just as quickly the answer comes back, unequivocally: “No!” Love’s time is now. It can’t wait, because the longer it’s withheld, the less of it there is. And if there’s one thing we need, it’s more love for one another. When Jesus declared His First and Great Commandment to love God with all of our heart, mind, and soul, He instantly attached another: “Love your neighbor as yourself,” stating it was equal to the First. Not loving people as they are—as beings made in God’s likeness, regardless how they’ve corrupted His image—is tantamount to not loving their Creator. “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen,” 1 John 4.20 says. We can try all day and night to justify animosity toward people (or groups of people) who, quite frankly, have worked overtime to earn it. Yet it’s dangerously deceptive to believe it’s legitimately possible to hold hatred for others and love for God in our hearts simultaneously. They can’t occupy the same space.

Love for Sale

Genesis 3.1 tells us, “Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals,” making it the perfect guise for the Tempter. It’s incumbent on us to stay alert to his wiles, because he’s a superlative trickster. His ploys go beyond luring us into disobedience. He also dilutes truth’s importance and power. Since love is central to all we do, he seduces us into mistaking it for a feeling instead of a fact. He cheapens it as a commodity we buy into, rather than a reality we express. The love stories filling our heads, love songs hanging mid-air, and love clichés littering our language aren’t about love at all. They’re about emotions tied to love. Love doesn’t grow. It doesn’t mean never having to say you’re sorry. It can’t be fallen in or out of. Love just is, because God is and God is love. Feelings wax and wane, but love remains constant. It’s inextricably rooted in our beings to reflect of our Maker. As Romans 5.5 tells us, “God has poured out his love into our hearts.” Therefore, love isn’t ours to give or take. It’s God’s and He placed it in us so wherever we are, His reality is manifested by love. Feeling love instead of being love mucks everything up by concealing God’s presence from others and us.

Sinners, Sin, and Side Effects

Those of us old enough to remember Anita Bryant—former Miss America, modestly talented singing star, and pitch-person for orange juice and rental cars—recall her trying to smooth over her uncharitable opposition to a Florida gay rights initiative with this: “As a born-again Christian, I love the sinner, but I hate the sin.” How cleverly convenient is that? Her lopsided argument caught fire and spread across intolerant pulpits everywhere. Had someone paused to square it against Christ’s teaching of love, though, two things would have made ashes of the wildfire straightaway. First, not once did Jesus expand His commandment to love to include separating the person from his/her behavior. Indeed, He never referred to those we must love as sinners at all, but neighbors and enemies. And second, Jesus adamantly denied our rights to condemn another or his/her sin. “If you judge,” He said, “you’ll be judged by the same standards.” Look no further than Ms. Bryant for proof. Her loving fans found her bigotry so hateful they vanished. She crashed while those she claimed to love (conditionally) soared ahead.

Getting back to Solomon, when if ever does the “time to hate” arrive? After taking the right to hate anyone or his/her sin off the table, we’re left with sin’s enormous damages—poverty, inequality, grief, fear, disease, and innumerable other evils. Whether globally or individually, hate times come when we identify side effects of iniquity. Extreme caution and delicacy in what we think, do, and say become necessary. Loving people despite their behavior while hating its consequences calls for tolerance without indulgence, acceptance without approval. We love our neighbors and enemies no matter what they think or do, but we loathe the evil of their actions. Times to hate demand demonstrations of love. It sounds ironic. But it’s not.

Hate-on-hate crime.

(Tomorrow: Conflict and Consensus)

Searching and Surrendering

A time to search and a time to give up…

                        Ecclesiastes 3.6

The Same Old Song

Thinking about this evokes more Top 40 hits than one might expect: The Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction,” U2’s “Still Haven’t Found,” Waylon Jennings’s “Lookin’ for Love,” Chicago’s “Searchin’ So Long”—the list is endless. It’s also enlightening. It tells how deeply seated our drive to find and claim what we haven’t got really is. The compulsion is so overwhelming it eclipses questioning why we’re not satisfied, haven’t found what we’re looking for, etc. If we took proper time to analyze our objectives, though, we’d get a clearer idea of why we’re always singing the same old song.

There are as many reasons for not locating what we want as songs about it. For the record, let’s toss a few around. We may search for more than we can handle or less than we need. We may be captivated by an imaginary ideal that prevents us from seeing the real thing. We may look for something actually secondary to more elusive goals like impressing neighbors or building a façade. Our search may rise from envy or insecurity that ignores the thing itself to focus on what it symbolizes. Examining these and myriad other motives exposes flaws behind the futility of our search. In such cases, it’s time to give up and seek fulfillment in more beneficial, realistic pursuits.

Unexpected Places

Not every search is superficial, though. If it’s legitimately worthy, our search stays in effect until its objective is realized. It demands commitment and endurance. What we’re after remains top of mind. Our eyes stay open and faith guides us to believe it’s already there, waiting to be found. Where “there” is, though, isn’t always where we anticipate it will be. Many searches end in unexpected places, in unusual ways. Matthew 17 describes an incident where taxmen confront Peter about Jesus’s unpaid temple dues. While there’s a bigger point to the story—honoring obligations—what happens illustrates why we never dismiss any endpoint as too unlikely. Peter has no cash. He takes the problem to Jesus, essentially looking for money to pay the tax. “Go fishing,” Jesus says. “You’ll find it in the mouth of the first fish you catch.” It probably was the craziest idea Peter ever heard. Yet he took Jesus at His word and found what he needed.

Finding Love

The most significant search most of us ever undertake is finding love that lasts a lifetime. This quest is particularly urgent for gay people, many of whom view loving partnerships as the ultimate means of validating their worth and reconstructing self-images critically marred by hatred and rejection. The “urge to merge” plays such a potent, prevalent role in our overall community, however, that wisdom is vital to know what we’re really searching for versus what our culture encourages us to seek. Our media and merchants jam our minds with so many images, myths, and mystiques—and we invent so many codes, rituals, and catchphrases—that it’s a constant struggle to hold fast to our search. Too many distractions interrupt us. Too many surfaces gleam. Too many dreams cloud our focus. So our streets and establishments teem with Mr./Ms. Right Nows while Mr./Ms. Rights seem nowhere to be found. But if we’re there, they’re there, because we are they. Yet instead of seeking someone worthy and willing to love us as we are, we insist on circling the ring, looking for someone better—butcher, buffer, bigger, etc., etc., etc. Our world is full of lonely lookers chasing illusions.

If we’re truly sincere in seeking meaningful, lasting love, we have Jesus’s promise we’ll find it. Matthew 7.7 says, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” We must believe that and take confidence we’ll find what we seek. But before we jump into our jeans and head to the hunting grounds, we should heed Jesus’s warning above His promise: “Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces.” Placating ourselves with momentary pleasure puts us off our search and belittles our bodies, our emotions, and our beings as disposable commodities. It numbers us with the fast and furious crowd, putting us in serious jeopardy of being stampeded and ripped to shreds. “There’s a time for searching and a time for surrendering,” Solomon writes. Our search for what’s real will come to naught if we won’t surrender the unreal figments and fantasies we cling to and let cling to us.

Sincerity in our search requires surrendering our illusions.

(Tomorrow: Retaining and Ridding)

On Marriage, the Church, and the Nation

My people are destroyed from lack of knowledge.

                        Hosea 4.6

To Begin

I was better than halfway into today’s originally scheduled post when an email from my parents came in. I cringed on seeing the subject:

Fw: Short video on VOTE YES on 2 and effects of Same Sex Marriage on Parental Rights: Very interesting

As many of you already know, my parents are retired Pentecostal ministers. They tow their church’s doctrinal line against homosexuality and while they’ve slowly managed to accept my being gay, they’re a long ways off from accepting homosexuality or believing it's acceptable to God. After a terrible rift over this, we recognized that how things are isn’t what any of us wants. But it’s all we’ve got to work with and we’re doing our best to stick together despite our differences. We keep our lines of communication open and candid, which often taxes one end or the other. Realizing the fragility of our connection, neither side goes out of its way to introduce volatile topics like politics or social controversy; we’ve learned all too well how quickly and dangerously they turn personal. So it surprised me to find an email from them—forwarded, no less—about same-sex marriage.

I opened it gingerly, as if it were a letter bomb. It read: “Hope you are having a good day. You probably already know about this. We received it today. Love You. Mom and Dad.” The original email came from a minister at their church. Her note said: “Short but a stark reality that you as a Christian parent Could be jailed like this Massachusetts dad for protecting his children.”

No, I didn’t already know about this and my folks’ decision to risk trouble between us by sending it my way stirred my interest. I stopped working on the blog long enough to take a look. Sensing they were hoping for a reaction, I decided to write them back immediately. Seven hours passed. As I read what I wrote one last time before sending it, I felt strangely compelled to share it here with you, my other “faith family.”

This is a policy breach—and a significant stylistic departure—for me. When I started Straight-Friendly, I purposed that I’d protect it from getting dragged into political and theological debates. There were bigger, better things to discuss: God’s acceptance, following Christ, loving our neighbors, and so on. I also pledged to keep each day’s post as short, crisp, and clear as possible. I’m breaking both rules here for one reason. I truly believe the same-sex marriage debate crystallizes the entire “gay issue” that presently divides the church and is responsible for the alienation of countless earnest believers, gay and straight. All of our disconnects feed into the discussion and how we as Christians and Americans conduct ourselves regarding this will have long-reaching impact on our lives, our faith, our culture, and the world at large.

So I’m asking your indulgence in the length and focus of this post. Very little, if any, of what I say below hasn’t already been said by many others and in better ways. But given what Straight-Friendly is all about, it seemed necessary to break with convention long enough to address the issue here.

The Massachusetts Story

The video that prompted this is directly below. It’s produced by The Family Research Council, hosted by that group’s president, Tony Perkins, and is sponsored by protectmarriage.com. It runs nearly seven minutes and I encourage everyone to look at it, particularly if you’ve somehow managed to escape exposure to the prolific “protect marriage” propaganda that’s run amok before the upcoming elections. For those of you cramped for time, however, here’s a brief overview.

Massachusetts parents David and Tonia Parker were outraged when their five-year-old son returned from Kindergarten in a public school with a “diversity book bag” that included descriptions of same-sex households. They went to the school’s administrator to protest this as contradictory to their religious values and overstepping the school’s educational responsibilities. They asked the administrator to inform them prior to producing any future programs or materials that similarly endorsed same-sex relationships and to provide them with a waiver excusing their son from these activities. The administrator refused, stating that since same-sex marriage was legal in Massachusetts, it was the school’s job to present it as “normal” and “acceptable.” Mr. Parker refused to leave the office until his demands were met. The admin called the police, had the dad arrested, and a new martyr for religious intolerance was born.

The Email

Making Mistakes to Correct Mistakes

"We didn't think it was appropriate to discuss that with our five-year-old, number one, and if we ever felt it was necessary, two, to have that discussion with our son we would choose the timing and manner in which to discuss that with him."

Ms. Parker is absolutely correct about this. And this story grieves me deeply—it's a terrible example of the state attempting to overcompensate for social inequities by creating new ones. Unfortunately, though, this is how democracy works. In trying to correct one mistake, we often make many more mistakes. And it takes time, a long time.

Two prime examples of this, I think, are slavery and women's rights. Emancipation and suffrage were not only necessary; they were essential to our integrity as nation committed to "liberty and justice for all." Yet here we are, decades later, still struggling with how to ensure equal rights for racial minorities and women without denying other groups' rights. The Constitution strikes this note at its outset: "in Order to form a more perfect Union." The greatest thing about America—what sets us apart from virtually every other nation on Earth—is our acceptance that we're a work in progress, a steady strive for perfection. That's what makes us "a city on a hill," as Reagan so beautifully applied Jesus's description of justice to us.

Marriage, Divorce, and Eunuchs

I bet I'm asked at least two or three times a week about same-sex marriage. And the majority of those who ask are initially taken aback by my reply. "Marriage" is a holy sacrament ordained by God in the Garden of Eden. In Matthew 19, Jesus unequivocally defines it as the joining of a man and woman. Case closed. But there's a lot to consider before arriving at this decision and I'll try to explain it as best I can. (Prepare yourself: this is going to take some time.)

Jesus's definition of marriage comes in a larger discussion about divorce, where He also says that divorce is unlawful except in cases of adultery. He says Moses's relaxation of this principle—permitting divorces of convenience—happened because the Jews' hearts had hardened toward God. This seems to be the case with us, too, particularly those of us in the church, who have taken a casual position on divorce and remarriage that totally contradicts Christ's teaching. When Jesus says this, the disciples suggest if all marriages are iron-clad then it would be wiser not to marry than risk living in inescapable misery. Christ's reply is most perplexing. He upholds marriage as a commandment for all heterosexual men by exempting three kinds of "eunuchs"--those who are "born that way" (Type 1), those made by man (castrated servants; Type 2), and those who practice celibacy for the Gospel's sake (Type 3). He prefaces His teaching by saying, "Not everyone can accept this word, but only those to whom it has been given."

If we take Christ's teaching in its totality—and we must, especially if we rely on it as Scriptural proof that marriage is an exclusively heterosexual institution—then we have to acknowledge, endorse, and live by its three precepts. 1) Marriage is solely intended and sanctioned between a man and a woman. 2) Divorce and remarriage are only permissible when either spouse is unfaithful; anyone who divorces his/her first spouse for any other reason (incompatibility, negligence, etc.) and remarries is an adulterer. 3) While the vast majority of men are expected to marry, there are three distinct exceptions to this rule: castratos, priests, and what apparently are homosexuals.

Of course, one might object to interpreting "born that way" as a reference to gay men, choosing a narrower, more literal reading that suggests Jesus was talking about infant boys born with "ambiguous gender" or hermaphrodites. Yet both these phenomena are so rare (2 in 10,000 for gender ambiguity and only 500 documented cases of hermaphroditism in all of human history) that it seems unlikely Christ meant physiological malformation or that the disciples even knew such anomalies existed. What we do know, however, is that Type 1 eunuchs were a common fixture in Jewish and other ancient societies.

The Prophecy of Acceptance

Mosaic law banned them from temple worship. Most historians and theologians concur that this was because Leviticus forbade same-sex relationships and therefore supports the notion that Jesus indeed was speaking of gay men as born eunuchs. Then, in Isaiah 56, we hear God call "the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose what pleases me and hold fast to my covenant" back to worship. "I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that will not be cut off."

This is Messianic prophecy and we see it fulfilled in Acts 8, when Philip leads the Ethiopian eunuch to Christ by explaining Isaiah to him. We can be certain the Ethiopian was a Type 1 eunuch because Luke specifically describes him as "an important official in charge of all the treasury of Candace," meaning he was neither a castrated slave nor a celibate priest. Furthermore, we're told that he had just come from worshipping in Jerusalem—presumably in the temple's outer courts, given his status as a eunuch and non-Jew—and I think Luke makes a point of telling us this to give us a very specific example of God's faithful promise to welcome previously excluded eunuchs who obey and please Him once the Messiah had come.

Stuck at a Crossroads

I know this is a lot of background, and I imagine you'll find much of it questionable or frustrating, but I wanted to include it because it significantly affects how we should approach same-sex marriage from a Scriptural and spiritual standpoint. Jesus's doctrine of marriage puts us at a crossroads. It's good news and bad news for both sides of the "gay debate," albeit in different ways.

On the right, Christians who oppose same-sex marriage should rejoice because not only did He conclusively confine marriage to heterosexuals, He went on to specifically disqualify homosexuals. That's good news for religious conservatives. Now here's the bad news. In doing so, He categorically confirmed homosexuality as a fact predetermined at birth. It's not a choice, an "alternative lifestyle," or any other label that implies it's something that a person decides to become or a habit that can be broken. Jesus says it's in the genes, as much a part of a person's make-up as the color of his/her skin or his/her family's medical history.

So, by basing their opposition to same-sex marriage on Jesus's teaching, conservative Christians have to reconcile that with their belief that homosexuality in and of itself is a sinful practice, rather than the congenital condition Jesus says it is. Taking the first part of His message to advance what is basically a political agenda and ignoring the back half amounts to straining at gnats and swallowing camels.

The Question Is…

The question isn't whether homosexuality is fundamentally wrong. It's whether homosexual individuals live according to Christ's law in a manner that pleases God. In other words, according to Isaiah 56 and Acts 8, gay people and straight people are equally entitled to Calvary's inheritance. We're all the same in God's eyes and we should be united in faith, working together to reach perfection through Him. This is good news for gay folks, especially those who've been ostracized from practicing their faith because of their sexual orientation. (And they number in the tens of thousands.) God wraps up His promise in Isaiah by saying, "My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations." No one is excluded and I can't imagine any true Christian would support a ministry or pastor who suggested otherwise.

But given that God specifically called out eunuchs (and foreigners) prior to saying this, it directly contradicts any teaching or dogma that insists gay people can't follow Jesus and accept their sexual orientation at the same time. It's what they do with it—how they live and the priorities they make. On this level, their issues are no different than their straight brothers and sisters—with one exception.

Lost in the Margins

Social and religious intolerance has done such a fine job of marginalizing gay people—removing them from the mainstream—that they've been forced to create their own subculture. While there's much about it that's positive, just as much is dangerous and damaging. With no other place to go, gay society grew in, and continues to thrive, in bars, nightclubs, and bathhouses—commercial venues that promote values and behaviors directly opposed to Christ's teaching.

Every day, another gay kid gets off the bus from Louisville or Des Moines or St. Louis [in Chicago] and the first place he heads is Halsted Street, because that's where he "belongs." At first, it's fun and exciting; if gay people know how to do anything, it's how to have a good time. The opportunity to be himself, to feel accepted without having to deceive or mislead others, is profoundly thrilling—particularly if he's either too terrified to come out to his family and friends at home or if they saddled him with rejection, fear, and shame when he did. Because he's emotionally vulnerable, gay culture can be very seductive. Its alternative to faith is hedonism and its resentment toward the church and believers runs deep. The assumption is that Christ and His followers want nothing to do with any self-accepting non-hetero person. And while this is absolutely a lie, the hostility leveled at gay rights and the gay community in general in Jesus's name proves otherwise. The propaganda speaks for itself.

Meanwhile, literally millions of gay folks are slipping away, drowning in a whirlpool of promiscuity, substance abuse, depression, suicide, and alienation. In America and the rest of the western world, the vast majority of these people come from families and communities with strong Christian traditions and values. Once they establish a level of personal comfort with their sexual identities, they find themselves disoriented, incapable of finding their way home—back to God and the life in Christ they knew. They're prodigals. Unfortunately, if they arise and go their Father's house, their reception is seldom anything like the one Jesus described. Instead of being embraced and surrounded by rejoicing, they're told they can't be true to themselves and please God at the same time, despite the fact that God says "Not so!" in Isaiah and Acts.  So what do they do? They turn right back around and head for the pigpen. This time, however, they're not listening as others tell them their faith and the church is useless—they're saying it themselves. The cycle continues over and over, and with each spin more precious souls are lost.

Stoking the Fires

Thus, while I agree with the video in principle—and I hate that overly zealous equal-rights policies resulted in the Parker family's suffering—I have to disagree with it in practice. The church, its leaders, and its people do themselves a great disservice by taking their opposition to same-sex marriage into the streets instead of being content to exercise their voting privileges as American citizens.

First, they actually generate wider controversy that ultimately ricochets by stoking the fires of those who advocate same-sex marriage. I've seen dozens of Public Service Announcements opposing straight-only marriage initiatives in Arizona and California, all of them in response to fear-mongering ads produced by the Christian right. In Phoenix and LA, two priests who defied their Bishops' directives to instruct their parishioners to vote for same-sex marriage bans have been pulled from their pulpits and are now incredibly powerful symbols of religious victimization. After their stories were publicized, polls in both cities surged in opposition to the initiatives.

Campaign Issues

Second, while the church is theologically correct to oppose same-sex marriage, the spirit of its campaign against it is sadly wrong. The Parker video is a perfect example of this. Undoubtedly, what the Parkers experienced was horrible, unnecessary, and most definitely illegal. As a die-hard liberal, I could never conscientiously approve of any action that lands a man in jail for protesting public policy and asserting his parental rights. (Besides, it's just stupid for the school officials to defend their nutty decision to introduce diversity training at the Kindergarten level. We know dozens of gay couples who've adopted and are raising beautiful, well-balanced children and they'll tell you the last thing their five-year-old needs is to be singled out as "special" because of them. Kids that young don't need to be subjected to that. Furthermore, every gay parent I know would side with the Parkers—this discussion should stay in the home and happen at the appropriate time. It's not the teacher or school administrator's job, even if same-sex unions are state law.)

Having said all this, though, I think it's wrong of Tony Perkins to exploit the Parkers' case as a means of spreading fear. And it amazes me how boldly he states his intentions to do so. "If you don't vote to ban same-sex marriage, this very well could happen to you! You could go to jail!" That's true, evidently. But is it realistic? Hardly. In fact, due to the Parkers’ case, I'm sure school boards everywhere are revising their diversity curricula because you'd have to live in a cave not to see the lawsuit that's coming. And from a legal standpoint, the issue of same-sex marriage is moot. Mr. Parker could have been protesting any topic that infringed on his parental and religious rights—dress codes, sex ed, bilingual instruction, etc.—and the school would still have been at fault for not accommodating him, let alone having him arrested.

A Spirit of Fear

By using Parker's story to scare unthinking people into voting his way, Perkins is completely out of line with Christian doctrine. Its rallying cry is "Be not afraid!" Jesus told us He has overcome the world—there's nothing to fear. Paul said we haven't been given a spirit of fear, but one of love, power, and a sound mind. John writes, There is no fear in love, because fear has to do with punishment, but perfect love drives out fear. Fear and love can't occupy the same space and from where I sat, I saw no love at all in this video. This saddens me because according to Jesus, it's love that shows the world we're His—not righteousness and most certainly not fear. I can't imagine who Perkins is trying to reach with this message; it seems to me he's preaching to the choir. His motives are so transparent and his distortion of the case is so obvious that I hardly believe any thinking person could be persuaded by it. If anything, the video's undertow of fear and malice most likely would drive undecided voters the opposite direction, leading them to think voting against same-sex bans is the Christian thing to do.

This applies not only to this video, but to the Christian right's overall shock-and-horror publicity strategy. No doubt about it, fear works. But it's not of God. And using fear in His name is every bit as dangerous and unscriptural as ignoring Jesus's marriage doctrine, perhaps even more so, because it's misleading. If not overtly, these religiously framed anti-rights campaigns implicitly promote prejudice and hatred; they're so primed with fear and hostility they can be easily misconstrued by weak-minded people as sanctioning violence and hate crimes. We've seen this in the abortion conflict, where excitable individuals have taken the right-to-life message as a cause to kill. The same holds with race: the KKK and other white supremacist "churches" have combined fear and faith to incite riots and lynching. While no sane person would interpret this or any other pro-ban video as a license for gay-bashing, they inadvertently prey on the fears of people who will. This is grossly irresponsible on their part as citizens but even more as Christians. If you cause one person to fall into sin, Jesus said, better you should tie a millstone around your neck and jump into the sea.

The American Thing

And, thirdly, if it's not the Christian thing to do, it's still right to vote against the same-sex marriage ban because it's the American thing to do. When we declared our independence, the first principle we adopted was this: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." In America, what's good for one is good for all. We believe in the unalienable, God-given rights of every man and woman to have equal opportunity, regardless of class, ethnic, or religious differences. This is why the Founding Fathers so adamantly insisted on separation of church and state.

This street flows both ways and as Christians we need to understand and accept our civic responsibilities in keeping with the laws of the Land. As an American, I cannot possibly support any policy that deprives my fellow citizens of the same rights and privileges I enjoy. This essentially is the principle that the California and Massachusetts courts upheld in their same-sex marriage rulings. It's illegal and un-American to tell gay couples they can't have the same rights as straight couples to common property, next-of-kin status, medical access, tax exemptions, etc., because they don't meet Christian marriage standards. On the other hand, it's completely legal and totally American for Christians to exercise their freedom of religion and limit the sacrament of marriage to heterosexuals. This is how democracy works.

Slip-Sliding Away

Is it not obvious to everyone that we're using one word—"marriage"—to mean two different things? Marriage in the courts and marriage in the church are not the same. When the courts overturned discrimination against same-sex couples, their decision had no religious connotations whatsoever. Nor should they have. They weren't approving or endorsing same-sex marriage as morally acceptable. They were rejecting discriminatory statutes as legally unacceptable. Morals fall under the province of the home and church. That's where this controversy over the legitimacy of same-sex marriage should live—and not in the political arena, where many Christians have placed it. This has stirred up needless confusion between how our laws define marriage and what Jesus said it was. This should not be. Christ Himself drew a line between civic law and religious doctrine: Render unto Caesar what is Caesars and to God what is God's. The religious right’s attempts to superimpose its doctrine on our legal system disobey this principle.

What's more, it diminishes God's authority and power by dragging His name into human affairs. This brings to mind Jesus's response to the Pharisees who accused His disciples of impiety because they ate without washing their hands. (Not surprisingly, He quotes Isaiah in the process.) "You nullify the word of God for the sake of your tradition. You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied of you: 'These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men." Is that what we need? A manmade rule to enforce a spiritual doctrine? Surely we know better than that. Surely we know where it leads.

The minute we let our religious beliefs dictate our civic responsibilities, we open ourselves to all kinds of threats. Actually voting for propositions that legalize inequality—now that's something we really need to be afraid of, because once that horse gets out of the barn there's no telling where or far he'll go. And the church should be the first to worry about this. Once we make a practice of ignoring Constitutional precedents to suit our personal values, we're well on our way to propositions against religious organizations' non-profit tax status, curriculum standards in parochial schools, government licensing of ministers, etc. If we invoke religion on one matter, we make it an issue for all. And given the rising tide of alarm and disgust over how many political and religious leaders have tried to leverage fear and faith to run rampant over the Constitution, it's most probable that the voting majority will have no compunction about voting for propositions that reel these rabble-rousers back in by limiting religious freedoms for everyone. It's a slippery slope that we'd be foolish to try and navigate. And we're all the more foolish for not seeing that these "marriage protection" initiatives are just the thing to send us sliding downhill fast.

The Red Flag

But finally (and I so apologize for going on this long, but I guess I really needed to try to explain myself as fully as possible), I'm most troubled by this video because of how it deceives gay (and gay-friendly) people into believing Christ nor His church cares about them. Of course, this isn't so, yet what else are they to think after hearing Ms. Parker call homosexuals sinners and Mr. Parker equate gay inclusion in mainstream society as "a war against the family"?  I totally sympathize with their anger and outrage—it's undeniably justified—yet there's no denying the hostility and fear underlying it.

When gay people see and hear this, a red flag goes up that says, "Keep out!" Unfortunately, they don't attribute that to the Parkers and Perkins. They view them as typical of all Christians and it becomes one more reason (or excuse) to avoid Jesus, His church, and His followers. It pushes them ever farther from knowing His love, grace, and power in their lives. It strands them in the shallows of a culture and community consumed with transient pleasure, self-gratification, and abusive habits. And for the relative few who, like Walt and I, make do by pursuing our faith in more tolerant, welcoming denominations, it just reinforces the idea that we're not likely to be able to return to the churches, service, and worship we were raised to love any time soon. In fact, I've pretty much given up believing that will happen in my lifetime. I've put all my hope into making up for the joy and fervor I've lost down here once I get to the other side.

I Wonder

What would happen, I sometimes wonder, if Pentecostals and Fundamentalists and Catholics and other sects that aggressively oppose homosexuality wholeheartedly embraced what God said in Isaiah 56, what Jesus taught in Matthew 19, and what Philip demonstrated in Acts 8? What would they do if they opened their hearts and doors to gay men and women and viewed them the same as every other believer in the room? What would the world see if these highly impassioned believers channeled their faith and courage to stand against homophobia, inequality, and social injustice? How would our society change if tens of thousands gay folks could be convinced that God and His people love them, accept them as they are, and want them to live healthy, productive lives that please their Maker? How would straight believers benefit from overcoming their fear and assuming the role of faith models for countless gay people to emulate? How many lost souls would be redeemed? How many alcoholics and drug users would be healed? How many AIDS cases would be prevented? How many suicides would be disabled? How many homes would be mended? How many more soldiers of the cross would take the field? How many more poor, sick, and spiritually distraught people around the world would find the help they need?

I wonder.

Mr. Parker is right—there is a war going on. But it's not gays versus Christians, liberals versus conservatives, or sinners versus saints. It's good versus evil. We already know who wins. I just wish we could get over our disagreements and fears of one another and learn to fight together for what's right.

I pray this helps you understand my position on this issue. How and what you believe is yours to decide and account for. More than anything, I want you to know that our differences about this or anything else are not important. What matters is that we continue to understand and care for each other despite them. I love you both very much—with all my heart.

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