Monthly Archives: January 2014

It’s not easy to tell a story

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A reflection by Lindsey

“Tell stories — yours and other people’s.”

My friend Justin usually starts with this piece of advice when he’s talking about how LGBT Christians might try engaging with others who may be less-than-charitable when it comes to LGBT issues.

My experience in telling my story is that it’s tricky. My life experience doesn’t fit into any neatly defined categories. As I’ve reflected deeply on Christian sexual ethics, I keep seeing that it’s an arena full of nuance. Godly living cannot be communicated in under 140 characters. The “answers” do not boil down to neat sound bytes. And the more I try to share what I have been learning, the more I feel like people are telling me I just need to go away. To many people, my story is dangerous.

It is hard for me not to internalize the message that I should just sit down and be quiet. Because I am intensely introverted, I’m naturally inclined to hide when I sense a threat and wait for the whole mess to blow over.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that it’s worth telling my story because I’ve learned nearly everything I’ve learned about sexual ethics by sharing stories with other people. Some of the best stories come from people who find themselves in remarkably different situations from mine.

The good stories, the ones that really shape my understanding of sexual ethics, came from my very closest friends. These stories were stories that everyone else wanted to ignore or shame. And they were stories from people who had done the “right” thing! It seems that no degree of “right conduct” saved anyone from having stories that other Christians wanted to simply ignore.

Too often, it seems like the Church wants LGBT people to tell one kind of story. It used to be that the story was somehow about how God enabled you to overcome your sexual attractions and enter into a heterosexual marriage. However, so many very brave people have told the Church that sexual orientation doesn’t change. As such, the story from the Church appears to be changing.

Yet, similarly, the LGBT community wants LGBT people to tell specific kinds of stories. Be proud. Fall in love. Safely enjoy sexual relationships. Do what you need to do so your body conforms to a particular gender. However, as more LGBT people tell their stories, the more I think people realize that LGBT people are not typecast into certain story lines.

We started this blog because other people wanted to hear our story. The goal of this blog is to share our stories of ourselves as individuals and of ourselves as a couple. People have encouraged us to tell our story because it’s unique, because they haven’t seen other stories like it, and because they think it’s interesting. Yet for all of the encouragement that we’ve had to share our story, it seems like an equal number of people have tried to tell us that we should remain silent: that telling our story will only cause pain for others who will attempt to live as we are and eventually realize this pathway is not their own, or for others already pursuing pathways different from ours.

I’d like to close with an observation that telling one’s personal story requires the teller to be vulnerable. When people respond to a personal story of any kind by encouraging the teller to just go away, it’s a pretty harsh rejection. Personal stories, by definition, are incredibly rooted in the context of a single person’s life. It’s not up to the teller to help the listener figure out which part of the story is most applicable to the listener’s life. That can only happen through mutually respectful dialogue, where both parties are vulnerable and both parties share their stories.

But that doesn’t make telling your story any easier.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

1 week after the Gay Christian Network 2014 Conference

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While we won’t be making a habit of releasing new posts on Sundays, we decided to make an exception today because it is exactly 1 week after the closing session of the Gay Christian Network 2014 Conference held in Chicago.

We both have a deep love and appreciation for the work of the Gay Christian Network (GCN). Our story as a couple began through our interactions on GCN. For the last two years, we have been blessed to attend the GCN conference together. We value the GCN community because we have found it to be a place where all people, in every situation, from any Christian tradition, can ask meaningful questions about enabling LGBT Christians to live as faithful disciples of Christ. GCN is a community that values the questions and honors the fact that different people arrive at remarkably diverse conclusions.

Sarah started the conference a bit earlier than Lindsey by participating in the women’s retreat. The retreat was a fantastic time of fellowship, song, and prayer, which featured three inspiring testimonies. The testimonies touched on topics ranging from losing a church family to painful lack of family acceptance to healing from the effects of ex-gay ministry to finding one’s partner. Every story that was shared blessed and challenged Sarah in its own way. Rev. Audrey Connor (Disciples of Christ) delivered the keynote and focused on the importance of truly listening to what is being said by the Spirit and by other people. Listening is about being present and honoring the image of God. This shared time of fellowship with over 100 women enabled lesbian, bisexual, transgender, straight, and other woman-identified people to connect with one another before the conference. Sarah was particularly encouraged by the number of mothers of LGBT children who joined in the retreat.

As the main conference began, we started to shift gears in order to meet newcomers to the conference and provide an extra dose hospitality for more liturgical Christians. Conference can be overwhelming as (1) a lot of the attendees have already connected with other people and (2) the structure of the main sessions closely mirrors Evangelical services where a praise team opens with music before a speaker. On Thursday night, Rev. Dr. Christine Wiley (Covenant Baptist United Church of Christ in Washington, DC) had both of us laughing to the point of tears as she shared that she has spent years “trying to make Christians out of church folk,” and “It’s hard work!”

Sometimes, the biggest blessings at conference come where you least expect them. On Friday morning, we (and everyone else in the room) had tears streaming down our faces as Linda and Rob Robertson shared their story of losing their gay son. When their son Ryan first came out, the Roberstons walked the path advocated by many conservative Christian organizations and encouraged Ryan to ask God to change his sexual orientation. Ryan stayed with that course for five years until he literally couldn’t take it anymore. The Robertsons walked us through their experience as parents watching their oldest son develop a severe drug addiction as he tried to deal with his pain of feeling rejected by God and his family. The Robertsons’ grief was palpable because their son Ryan’s 25th birthday was the following Tuesday, a birthday Ryan would be celebrating in heaven. We both cried and cried and cried through the whole story because it was so easy for us to connect with what the Robertsons were saying.

By Friday afternoon, we found ourselves completely over-extended. We make a point of hosting morning and evening prayer times in our hotel room that are recognizable to people from diverse liturgical traditions. Pulling together these prayer times is a lot of fun, but can be a bit draining. Additionally, we presented a workshop entitled “Celibacy Involves Family” that drew nearly 40 attendees during the first workshop session. We had a blast preparing our workshop together, and we’ll likely share some of the content we presented at that workshop in future posts. Yet, all this running around left us feeling a bit depleted. Lindsey felt especially zapped: conferences can be an introvert’s worse nightmare.

We wanted so desperately to serve the community that we had forgotten how important it was to receive care, love, and support from others. On Friday night, we clued in to our mutual exhaustion. We decided that the best thing to do would be to go down to the lobby, find someone interested in eating dinner at the hotel, and have real human conversation about what was going on in everyone’s lives. We met up with Rebecca and James Farlow, two friends we had met at a previous conference who have graciously served by leading the times of musical worship two years running. They gave us the opportunity to share vulnerably about everything we had been experiencing lately: our car accident on the way to conference, Lindsey’s recent job loss, Sarah’s chronic health problems, and our general frustrations with the universe. The Farlows graciously shared with us what was going on in their life together. It was a sacred time of mutuality, respect, and prayer that refreshed us. We decided it would be best to continue refreshing (and unfortunately, had to miss the concert by Bobby Jo Valentine and Derek Webb). Later, another couple spent some time with us as we celebrated the different ways God has blessed all four of us in the year between GCN conferences.

On Saturday, we prepared for the event everyone was talking about: Rachel Held Evans’ keynote! Her kind, gentle, yet thought-provoking speaking style reminded us a great deal of the challenging content she regularly posts on her blog. We found it particularly meaningful that she contrasted the experience of an ally having a shared enemy with the experience of a sister having a shared identity.

Immediately after the keynote, we embarked on quite the mission: trekking over to a friend’s house to use an oven so we could bake bread. You see, we are a part of a closed communion tradition (and do not partake of communion outside of our Christian tradition) and simultaneously value that GCN offers communion during the Sunday morning service. We recognize that for many people in the GCN community who have endured painful rejection by members of their Christian traditions, the GCN conference is the only time they feel welcome to partake of communion. But we also believe that in having an open table at GCN Conference where people can make a choice to commune, it is equally important to honor the choice to abstain regardless of a person’s reasons. Toward that end, we decided that we would offer to bake a loaf that would remain unconsecrated and be available for all people at the GCN conference as Bread of Fellowship (rather than elements of communion). So across Chicago we went with our ingredients, measuring cups, and mixing bowl to our friend’s kitchen. We enjoyed talking with our friend’s partner as we waited for the various stages of bread making (never, ever try to bake bread in a hurry) and then returned to the conference in time for another round of workshops and more fellowship. Later, on Sunday morning, we would pray for every person registered for the conference by name as we cut the Bread of Fellowship into distributable pieces.

If there is one area in which the GCN conference really excels, it is providing opportunities for fellowship. The conference schedule includes significant time to gather with others, and attendees tend to milk every minute for more time together. Saturday night is reserved for an open mike time where people can share their experience of God at the conference. This sacred time always contains so many awe-inspiring stories of God’s faithfulness, and we consider it a distinct privilege to participate. Moreover, no one seems to want Saturday night to end, so impromptu gatherings tend to spring up all over the hotel lobby. We came prepared with several games, and the ever-extroverted Sarah spent hours playing 10 Days in the USA and Catch Phrase with folks. Spending time with close friends playing board games until all hours of the night makes GCN Conference feel less like a conference and more like a family reunion. It’s also a great way to bond more closely with old friends and extend one’s family of choice to include some really awesome new people.

The last general session of conference featured incredible singing from a choir comprised of conference attendees, a talk delivered by Justin Lee that tried to sum up the events of the weekend and encouraged people to continue letting God transform their lives, and a final circle. It’s a tradition that at the last minute of conference, Justin and Trey (GCN’s Conference Director) announce the conference city for next year. We hope to see you in Portland, Oregon 8-11 January 2015.

Overall, the GCN conference provided a rich time for us to be ourselves in community with other people we have come to adore. As a celibate couple, we are able to receive encouragement in our specific vocation from the diverse people gathered. So many people have found space at GCN conference to be themselves, and we hope that you will consider joining us in Portland. We’d love to meet you!

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Defining celibacy

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In this post, we are going to make a first attempt at defining celibacy. It’s a bit tricky because many people assume that celibacy is merely abstention from sexual relations. After all, that’s what shows up when you type the word into Dictionary.com! However, we think most people would raise a mighty shout of protest if we tried to define marriage as engaging in sexual relations. Many people would call out from the rooftops that there’s more to marriage than sex. Heck, even Dictionary.com goes with “(broadly) any of the diverse forms of interpersonal union established in various parts of the world to form a familial bond that is recognized legally, religiously, or socially, granting the participating partners mutual conjugal rights and responsibilities and including, for example, opposite-sex marriage, same-sex marriage, plural marriage, and arranged marriage.”

Phew! That’s a mouthful!

Suffice it to say, we think one of the reasons why marriage gets such an extensive definition is that so many married people work as lexicographers. There is power when married people are permitted to define what marriage is. However, there is a substantive gap when married people try to define celibacy. In this post, we’re going to try to define celibacy from our unique perspective as a celibate couple. We hope you all will give us the benefit of the doubt that we’ve actually thought deeply about what celibacy means. In no way are we going to be able to say everything about celibacy or develop a comprehensive definition in this post. We just hope to start a conversation.

For us, celibacy involves a radical hospitality, vulnerability, a shared spiritual life, and commitment. We don’t mean for this list to be all-inclusive, but it seems like a reasonable starting point.

Radical hospitality seems to be a hallmark of celibate communities (e.g. monasteries). Every celibate community we have visited has guest housing. (Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why we could visit them….. they’re committed to hospitality.) For us, in our home, the practice of radical hospitality means always being willing to host a guest. Whether the guest stays overnight in our apartment, joins us for a meal, or travels with us for a ride home, the guest is a welcome person. When we meet new people, we prayerfully consider how we might be some conduit of blessing for them. So far, God’s been pretty awesome to show up in our limited efforts.

We’ve talked previously about how vulnerability is a key feature in our partnership. Vulnerability so often gets associated with marriage. People who are in the know about healthy relationships would say that being completely honest, open, and vulnerable is essential for a healthy marriage, but no one ever really talks about how vulnerability could also be essential for a healthy celibate life. In the Russian monastic tradition, monastics regularly engage in a practice known as the confession of thoughts. During this time, monastics share their innermost thoughts with one another with the goal of knowing themselves and each other deeply in Christ. One of our favorite prayers in the Eastern rite says, “Let us commend ourselves and each other and our whole lives unto Christ our God.” For us in our relationship, vulnerably sharing our thoughts and our fears is a critical piece of negotiating the really tough issues we face together.

For us, it is unmistakable that celibate communities share a spiritual life. We have observed that many people conceive of celibate people as hermits. Hermits keep to themselves and avoid connections with anyone and anything in this world. However, the hermit is likely the least common way a celibate life is lived. Much more common is an arrangement in which celibate people are living together in religious communities. After all, celibacy became a much more viable option when people were afforded a choice to join a monastery rather than enter into an arranged marriage. Because the topic of a shared spiritual life is so vast, expect to see more posts from us about how we share our spiritual life as a couple.

Lastly (for today at least), celibacy requires commitment. This means both commitment to a way of life and commitment to other people. We find this to be broadly true whether a person is committed to celibate life within the context of a monastic community, as a couple, or as a single person. We believe that human beings have meaningful relationships with other human beings. In monasteries, these commitments get clearly communicated through various tonsure services in which a person is made a fully vowed member of that monastic community. Outside of monastic communities, people have a LOT more flexibility. One of our favorite phrases to say to one another is, “I’m opting in. I’m supporting you 100%”

We live in a culture in which commitment, broadly speaking, is frowned upon. Even the promises of marriage get treated as disposable. The phrase “just friends” is a great way to cheapen the commitment shared by two people who may not be married to one another. Our culture assumes that people are geographically mobile, ready to move wherever the winds of employment may take them.

By way of quick review, we would define celibacy by focusing on four major themes: radical hospitality, vulnerability, a shared spiritual life, and commitment. We expect that virtually every post we put on this blog will have something to say about one or more of these themes. We look forward to continuing to discuss how we live out celibate lives in the context of our partnership.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Finding a language for our shared life

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A reflection by Sarah

“Will you be looking for a new roommate?” he asked me.

At first, I wasn’t sure I had heard the question correctly. Bemused, I requested, “Could you repeat that?”

“Will you be looking for a new roommate?” my friend David queried again. “I mean, if Lindsey can’t find a new job in (our city) and has to move away, you’ll need someone to live with, right?”

You might be reading this exchange and wondering whether or not this person has ever known that Lindsey and I are a couple. Am I “out” to this person? Does he even know me well enough to know that Lindsey and I come as a pair? Have I ever had a conversation with him about our relationship? Surprisingly, the answer to all three questions is “yes.”

Less than a week before this exchange, Lindsey had lost a job. Two days after Christmas, less than a week after our holiday road trip, and right in the middle of a six-week gap in my income, the rug had been pulled from under us and we were scrambling to find additional sources of funds. The first few days after the news came were devastating. No hiring manager looks at resumes and cover letters between Christmas Day and New Years Day, maybe a bit longer, and we knew it. We depend equally on both our pay checks to make ends meet, and we had no idea if we would be seeing another dime until my next check in February. We were scared, and there were many tears and hugs. But there were also many moments of grace and blessing. Lindsey still doesn’t have a new job yet, but from the very beginning of this situation our friends have been supportive beyond description. Everyone has wanted nothing but to be as kind and helpful as possible. We couldn’t imagine that anyone we know would see the job loss as a “just Lindsey” problem rather than a “Lindsey and Sarah” problem. That’s why I was a bit taken aback when David asked his question.

I’ve grown accustomed to the reality that most people don’t know how to describe my relationship with Lindsey. To be completely honest, we also struggle with finding the right words, and that was one of our motivations for starting this blog. It’s not unusual for us to encounter misunderstandings, even among our closest friends. But in the moment when David asked his question, I felt hurt, frustrated, and a bit angry. I had known David for years. Why didn’t he get it? Why didn’t he understand that Lindsey and I are a team, a family, not just two long-term roommates with no level of commitment beyond the annual lease on our apartment? Why would he think that Lindsey could decide to move at any time without my moving too? I took a few minutes to reflect, then tried to step back and understand David’s perspective. I wanted to probe more deeply and get a sense of the disconnect we were experiencing.

“David,” I asked, “If your wife lost her job, would you be preparing for her to move to a new city and seeking a new roommate for yourself?”

“Of course not,” he asserted. “Because we’re married. I see where this conversation is going. Your relationship isn’t the same as a sacramental marriage. You’ve told me before that you don’t see it as a sacramental marriage.”

I nodded. “That’s true. But Lindsey is the single most important person in my life next to Christ and the saints. Commitment to each other is an essential part of our relationship.”

We spent the next hour or so talking about marriage, partnership, and friendship. Words I frequently use when describing my partnership (love, family, togetherness, traditions, home) came up. Words and phrases I prefer not to use and find awkward and unfitting (platonic relationship, covenanted friendship, just friends, sexless relationship) also arose in the discussion.

This encounter reminded me that the English language has so many limitations when it comes to describing concepts of love, closeness, and commitment, and none of the existing western social norms for relationships provide verbiage that adequately describes the life Lindsey and I share. We are friends, yes–the best and closest of friends. But we aren’t “just friends.” Our commitment to each other isn’t the same as our commitments to other people who play important roles in our lives. We also don’t consider ourselves married or on the road toward sacramental marriage (for reasons upon which me may expound in a future post), but we have chosen to do life together, and parts of the way that manifests are similar to the practical aspects of marriage. Sometimes I think it’s best that we don’t have a concrete definition for our relationship. The mysteriousness associated with defying definition can be freeing and empowering. At other times, I long for a way to express more fully in words how we feel about each other and what that means for our shared life.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Why celibacy?

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“Why celibacy?” is a natural first question people ask when they find out a bit more about our relationship. So we thought we’d spend some time talking about why we’ve chosen this route.

Many people encourage LGBT Christians to live a celibate life based on the idea that gay sex is something that absolutely, positively, and without a doubt must be avoided at all costs. Within these circles, there is a lot of talk about what constitutes sex and very little talk about what constitutes celibacy. To these people, celibacy is understood as the absence of sex. We’ll spend some more time talking about what we think celibacy is in a future post; but, for now, we will say that we resonate very much with Eve Tushnet, who says that you cannot have a vocation of “No”.

As for us, we both have felt called to celibacy for some years. Sarah started to explore the possibilities of celibacy around the age of 19 as Sarah witnessed the profound ways nuns loved and served the world. The way nuns lived in the world offered a different pathway to holiness than the paths associated with marriage. Lindsey came to the idea of celibacy a bit later, around the age of 25. For Lindsey, exploring celibacy began as a way to integrate faith and sexuality. Yet, a lot of talk on these topics seemed detached from the practical experience of daily life, so Lindsey sought out many different kinds of people living celibate lives. Watching people live out celibacy challenged Lindsey to cultivate a life in which prayer facilitated hospitality, hospitality created connection, and connection empowered people to come together and share life. While both of us explored the possibility that we might have a religious vocation (i.e. living in a monastic community), we both felt that God was not asking either one of us to commit our lives to a specific religious community.

We are not coming to celibacy from the place that we are afraid and have never experienced the other side of sexually active relationships. And we are not coming to celibacy from a place that regards LGBT sexual activity as the unforgivable sin. We’re unique in that both of us have past experience with sexually active relationships. Sarah does not bemoan past relationships that have included sexual activity because these relationships taught Sarah a lot. From Sarah’s vantage point, it is partly due to the fact that Sarah has experienced such relationships that Sarah came to discover the vocation of celibacy. Sarah hopes to write more on this in the future. Lindsey’s experience of sexually active relationships came more from the challenges associated with drawing “the line” about which forms of intimacy are appropriate. In Lindsey’s view, so much of the material on sexual ethics comes from heteronormative situations where Lindsey has a natural struggle appropriating the existing material on sexual ethics to the particulars of LGBT relationships. We both appreciate learning that extending grace to oneself and others in all areas of life is an essential part of growing in Christ. Grace is a critical touchstone of the Christian faith; and, we’ve found that extending grace is tightly linked to offering hospitality to others.

Together, we have created a space where we can explore celibacy as a couple. As individuals, we have had chances to visit many different celibate communities. Every community we have visited over the years is different. We enjoy trading stories (of all kinds!) with each other. We naturally talk about what we have learned from different celibate communities and frequently discuss how to cultivate our shared vocation to celibacy.

To sum up, the answer to the question “Why celibacy?” boils down to the statement that we feel God is asking us to live our lives in this way. We are grateful for the ways that God continues to teach us about celibacy and look forward to continuing to explore our vocation together.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.