[This
is the 3rd in a 3-part series called, "A Place to Belong." The 1st and 2nd posts can be found here and here.]
More than places that feel like home, I think we
especially long for people who feel
like home to us—people who are safe, with whom we have a sense of mutual
belonging. There’s a line from “Beauty and the Beast” (the stage version) that
I’ve always found especially poignant. As Belle cradles the dying Beast in her
arms, she sings to him, “I found home…you’re
my home…stay with me.” Belle’s home is not her poor, provincial town. It’s not the
Beast’s enchanted castle. It’s him.
Wesley Hill describes
this longing beautifully:
“I need people who know what time my plane lands, who will worry about me when I don’t show up when I say I will. I need people I can call and tell about that funny thing that happened in the hallway after class. I need to know that, come hell or high water, a few people will stay with me, loving me in spite of my faults and caring for me when I’m down. More, I need people for whom I can care.”
The question I’ve been
dealing with for the last couple weeks is whether or not churches that embrace
the traditional sexual ethic can actually be places of mutual belonging for
LGBT believers. Can Christians who are
gay* ever actually find home in such
communities, or must we look for it elsewhere in communities that affirm and
celebrate same-sex relationships?
It’s true: communities
that hold to the traditional (and I believe biblical) sexual ethic have often
been places of shame and alienation for gay Christians rather than places of
grace and belonging. It should come as little surprise that many gay Christians
abandon these communities—and the sexual ethic that these communities seem to
embrace at their expense—as they search for home. However, as I have said the past two weeks,
this is not the whole story. There are many church communities holding firm to
the traditional sexual ethic that are bearing very good fruit for the LGBT believers
finding home in their midst. These
stories should not be ignored.
Last week, I shared how my Christian friends
communicate unequivocally that I belong in their brotherhood—without
compromising their biblical convictions on sex and marriage. This week, I want
to address a question that Fred Harrell raised in the letter to his congregation:
“If Jesus were the pastor of City Church, what would he say to the [LGBT members of our community] who are asking if they can belong? […] What is a Christ-like response?”
As I’ve said, I disagree
with Fred that affirming same-sex relationships is the Christ-like response.
However, his question still deserves an answer. How can a church—for our purposes, a church that embraces the
traditional sexual ethic—communicate to its LGBT members that they do indeed belong
in the Body of Christ?
Belonging in the Body
“The church needs to be a nest for those inside & outside the framework of the nuclear family…an integrated community of single people, married people, families, widows, the elderly, college students, those of racial and sexual minorities, and all those I’m too naive to name.” – Jeb Ralston
Today,
I want to focus on one congregation in particular—Memorial Presbyterian Church—and just a few of the [many] reasons
why my theologically-conservative, traditional, PCA church has been such a good
place for me to call home.
1. Singles in positions of leadership:
As a congregation in the
city, it makes sense that Memorial is more than 25% unmarried. Many singles,
like me, have found Memorial’s community to be the kind of “nest” that Jeb
described above. However, beyond being a place where it’s not odd to be
unmarried, singles also hold positions of influence in every level of our church
leadership—from community group leaders to church officers to the pastoral
staff…and everywhere in between.
This
is important.
Two weeks ago, I asked
the question, “When churches continue to
idolize marriage as an ultimate human experience …is it any wonder that
lifelong singleness starts sounding like a lifetime sentence?” I firmly
believe that one of the best ways a church can avoid idolizing marriage is to
make sure that the positions and voices of influence within their community
include wise, godly men and women who are not married. Leadership affects the
ethos of a church, and when wise singles have voices of influence, they can
help their churches become communities where one’s full inclusion and status do
not depend on one’s marital status.
While
we rightly celebrate the joy and beauty of marriage, we must also communicate
that marriage is not a necessary ingredient of spiritual maturity—nor is it a
necessary ingredient of joy and beauty. Certainly, ministry to married couples and families is a
big part of what God is doing at Memorial. However, as a church Family,
unmarried people have an active role even in these ministries! Married couples
and singles are not pit against each other in a competition for resources and
attention, but rather, we serve one another in community.
2. Sexual minorities in positions of leadership: **
In addition to having
many singles in leadership, Memorial is also a place where wise, godly
believers who are sexual minorities hold positions of influence and leadership.
It’s hard to fully describe how much this communicates to me regarding the
heart of my church family and my place in her community. I’m no more broken
than anyone else. Believers who are gay
are able to use their gifts and serve our church community like anyone else—and
they are held to the same biblical standards.
Personally, I’ve had the
opportunities to teach children’s Sunday School, lead an adult Bible study, as
well as lead portions of our “More About Memorial” membership class. I don’t
take these opportunities for granted, especially when I hear from so many other
men and women who are denied these opportunities simply because, like me, they are primarily attracted
to their same gender (or simply because they’re honest about it).
3. Having the conversation:
Memorial doesn’t shy
away from conversations about sexuality. Refraining from the divisive rhetoric
of the culture war, our leaders address the issue of homosexuality with
humility and pastoral care. The real
people and real lives involved—both inside and outside our walls—are not lost
in political debate…and neither is Truth.
This past spring, the
adult Sunday school class spent 9 weeks covering such topics as “God, Gays
& Grace,” “Supporting SSA/Gay Believers,” and “Transgender Issues.” These
classes were led by a local ministry with expertise in issues related to
sexuality, and many of the speakers were themselves sexual minorities. I was
encouraged to see the congregation unite around this opportunity to better
understand those whose experience of sexuality (including the broken aspects of their sexuality) might look different
from their own—as well as how to respond biblically and compassionately.
Likewise, I’ve never
felt unwelcome to talk about my own experience as a gay person or my own sexual brokenness. On the contrary, in all my interactions with church
leadership and fellow members, it’s been clear that my perspective is seen as
valuable rather than as a nuisance. In fact, I was encouraged to share this
part of my story when I led the portion of our membership class about being a
community of grace and repentance—a community without the need for masks.
Churches don’t need to
be vocally offensive or insensitive toward sexual minorities for LGBT believers
to feel like they don’t belong or are unwelcome. Silence can often be deafening.
Thankfully, my church
has been anything but silent.
4. Not forcing the conversation:
As open as Memorial is
to conversations about sexuality, no one is ever pressured to be a poster
child. As free as I feel to share about my experience as a Christian who is gay,
I don’t feel like this experience is the only thing I bring to the table, and
neither are my ministry opportunities limited to issues of sexual brokenness.
I have freedom to speak,
and I have freedom to remain silent. I don’t walk around with a label on my
forehead. My church family does not
define me by my sexuality.
At my church, I’m not
Stephen Moss: Gay Christian.
At my church, I’m Stephen
Moss: Child of God…Brother in Christ.
That’s
incredibly refreshing.
5. Environment where it’s okay not to be okay:
I still remember the first Sunday I walked
through the doors of Memorial’s old historic sanctuary and sat down amidst this
eclectic (and slightly eccentric***) group of people. I immediately knew this
was a place where I didn’t have to pretend I had it all together. This wasn’t a
place where I needed to fit a certain mold, because…well…there was no apparent
mold to fit. Very quickly, Memorial
began to feel like home.
At Memorial, I’m free to
take off my mask and let my own quirks and eccentricities show. I don’t have to
hide my vulnerability and brokenness, because at Memorial, the fact that we’re
all broken isn’t just a theological proposition that we recite…it’s on display. Now, if our brokenness
is where we are left, we have no hope. We don’t revel in our brokenness, but our brokenness drives us to the Cross.
The gospel—the good news that, when we
were rebels and helpless to save ourselves, Jesus came to pay our penalty and restore
us to glory—is the only foundation upon which such a community can stand.
This gospel is preached
clearly from Memorial’s pulpit every Sunday, as well as in our liturgy and the
sacraments. Our pastors feed us a steady diet of radical grace rooted solidly in
the truth of God’s eternal and unchanging Word. As a community, we are called
to repent of our failure to meet God’s holy standard, our failure to love as He
loves. As we learn each other’s stories, we see the rich diversity of means God
uses to accomplish his purposes of bringing about His Kingdom on earth and
transforming his Church more and more—not into the likeness of good religious folks—but into the likeness of His Son.
All in the Family
“The answer to loneliness is not marriage, but rather the new-creational community that God is calling into being in Christ, the church marked by mutual love, as it is led by the Spirit of Christ.” -- J. Louis Martyn, quoted here by Wesley Hill.
In Mark 10, Peter says to Jesus, “See,
we have left everything and followed you.” Jesus responds, “Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has
left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for
my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this
time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with
persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life.”
Taking up my cross to follow Jesus as a man who is primarily attracted to other men means
giving up my desire for a same-sex romantic relationship—but it doesn’t mean giving up my
desire for intimacy. More and more Christians (like Julie Rodgers and Fred Harrell) seem
to imply that the ultimate answer to our loneliness is marriage, but could it
be that the answer to our loneliness—regardless of our marital status or sexual
orientation—actually is this
new-creational community? When we are united to Christ, we are united to his
Body here on earth. The Church becomes our Family—our broken, awkward, messy,
and beautiful Family.
I believe God has said “no” to my desire for a same-sex romantic relationship. I don’t know
what God has yet to say about my desire for a wife and children, but I do know
this: regardless of whether or not I ever have a family of my own, I will
not be alone. I will always have a Family. In the Church, I have many
brothers and sisters. I have many mothers and fathers.
Regardless of whether or not I ever have biological children, in the Church, I will have children. That vow we take every time an infant is baptized actually means something.
Regardless of whether or not I ever have biological children, in the Church, I will have children. That vow we take every time an infant is baptized actually means something.
My church does not need
to affirm same-sex romantic relationships in order to love and care for me well. My
church needs to be my Family. My church needs to be the Church.
Perhaps you still believe this vision of a church that’s just as
committed to the joy and flourishing of its LGBT members as it is to the
traditional sexual ethic is an impossible, pie-in-the-sky dream. I understand.
I know there’s been a lot of epic failure…and many burned bridges. Let’s keep talking.
But I hope I’ve demonstrated that epic failure is not the whole picture.
My Christian friends and my church have set a beautiful example of what it
looks like to unashamedly embrace LGBT believers while embracing the
traditional, biblical sexual ethic. I pray that these stories will indeed become
the norm in the Church. I pray that more and more of those who sit on the
fringes of our communities will find their belonging in the Body of Christ—and
I pray that Christ will be glorified.
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* For the sake of clarity, when I say “gay,” I simply mean “attracted to the same gender.” I use it as a descriptive adjective, with no other implications regarding behavior or identity. When we have these conversations, I think it’s helpful for us to use language that our neighbors can understand and to which they can relate. However, I understand that some remain uncomfortable using “gay” even as a descriptor, and if this is you, I humbly ask for your patience as we continue this conversation. Similarly, when I refer to "LGBT" or "sexual minorities," I am referring to those whose experience of sexuality is something different than "heterosexual."
** If there are no sexual minorities in church leadership, I at least think it’s important to ask some diagnostic questions: Is our church a place where wise and godly men or women who are open about their experience of same-sex attraction would be encouraged to serve and teach? If there was a gay person who fit the biblical requirements for church leadership, would he or she ever be selected for a position? Do we seek the wisdom and input of sexual minorities—whether in our church or in other churches—when we teach about sex and marriage? Can we even imagine these scenarios? If the answers to these questions are negative, LGBT believers are very unlikely to feel like they belong in that church community. (The same can all be said for singles in leadership as well).
*** In a recent profile compiled by our church, I was encouraged to see the following listed as one of our strengths: “People describe our church as “quirky.” We have embraced and delight in our eccentricity and are happy to be a place where people feel the freedom to be who they are as created in God’s image.” Amen.