Prayers Most Appreciated

Hello Readers,

We interrupt our normal business of blogging to request your prayers.

Yesterday after we arrived at home, we discovered someone had burglarized our apartment. While both of our cats are safe and we lost nothing of any appreciable value, we would sincerely appreciate your prayers as we feel most unsettled. The thief went to rather extravagant lengths such as likely climbing tall fences and carrying a ladder up a steep hill. We’re amazed that the thief left with so little after going to such great lengths to access our apartment.

On a more encouraging note, we’re seeing a lot of positive momentum on Lindsey’s job search.

Thanks for all of your prayers. We would love to hear from you, whether you leave a comment here or contact us privately.

Blessings,

Lindsey and Sarah

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.

Intimacy and Children’s Physical Boundaries

A reflection by Sarah

About three weeks ago, I came across an article on children and bodily autonomy via my friend Jessica’s Facebook page. The article, “Respecting Every BODY,” discusses the importance of respecting children’s boundaries with physical affection and offers a couple of examples from the author’s own life. In one of these, Libby Anne tells readers about a time when her father-in-law failed to honor her daughter Sally’s boundaries:

“Over Christmas we were at Sean’s parents’ house. Sally’s grandpa was holding her on his lap when she asked to get down, and he said no. He said he wasn’t done holding her, and besides, didn’t she love him and like sitting on his lap? Sally struggled and Sean’s dad held her closer. At first I said nothing, because I was in a state of shock. I couldn’t believe this was really actually happening. Shaking myself out of my shock, I asked Sean’s dad to put Sally down, but he didn’t. He acted like it was some sort of joke. It wasn’t until I stood and moved forward to intervene that he set Sally down. She immediately ran from the room, crying.”

Upon reading this, I knew immediately that I had to write something of my own on the topic of children and physical boundaries, but I also knew that I needed to wait a bit before attempting to do so. I needed that time because my first reaction to the story about Sally and her grandfather was intense anger. This story left me shaking for several minutes because I could identify so strongly with Sally’s frustration and apparent sense of powerlessness.

About halfway through my first reading of the quoted paragraph, I noticed myself flashing back to several experiences from my childhood when different adults refused to honor the limits with which I was comfortable for my own body. One of the more prominent images that came to mind was of a family member who took disturbing delight in popping my toes. From the time I was a preschooler all the way through my adolescence, this family member would take every opportunity possible while I was relaxing on the floor, my bed, or a sofa to grab my feet and begin toe-popping and laughing while I kicked and screamed for him to stop. When I was very young, he would tease me about my disdain for this activity with a silly rhyme he’d ad-libbed, then laugh at me when I responded with even further disgust because my irritated facial expression was “cute.” At times when I accidentally kicked him in the face while trying to get my feet away, he would become angry with me and say sternly, “Stop that! I was just playing around with you!” As the subject has arisen again during my adulthood (usually within the context of this person’s reminiscing about my childhood), I still haven’t been able to convince him that popping my toes was not playful teasing, but instead a legitimate affront to my physical boundaries. Even now as I write this, I feel my blood pressure rising a bit.

The purpose of this post is not to submit my family member with a proclivity for toe-popping to a round of public shaming. God knows that in my own interactions with children as an adult, I have also made mistakes regarding respect for boundaries. When tutoring, it’s not always easy to remember that certain kids don’t welcome hugs as celebrations of skill mastery. After painstakingly preparing a meal for a child I’m babysitting, it can be tempting to insist that she eat all her meat, vegetables, and fruits before leaving the table even when she says she’s full. Regrettably, I’ve made many such errors in judgment in the past when it comes to children. I’ve since seen that my decisions in these situations were motivated by concern for my own needs and wants while I lacked awareness of another person’s needs and wants.

Herein lies the reason I felt so deeply compelled to spill some thoughts on this topic: our blog is about the experience of living a celibate vocation, and respect for bodies is just as important for celibates as it is for people who are sexually active. Children begin developing senses of appropriate boundaries early in life based on the models they see from adults. Children aren’t lesser beings. They are people, and their boundaries matter. I know very few adults who would disagree with this theoretically, but many of us need to do better about putting it into practice with the children in our lives. If we don’t respect children’s boundaries, we are sending the message that there is no such thing as choice in physical intimacy. This message can be incredibly damaging for tiny humans who will eventually grow up and be faced with all kinds of pressures regarding sex, whether they choose celibacy or another way of life.

One of the sharpest hurdles along my journey to a celibate partnership was an incorrect belief that all intimate, more-than-friendship relationships must necessarily include (or have the potential for future inclusion of) sexual activity. I spent several years thinking this, and as a result I ended up turning against my conscience and compromising my own physical boundaries on many occasions. Reflecting on this now, I see that my struggles with saying “No” came in part from my lack of understanding that my body was not made simply for the amusement of another human being.

As a teenager raised in a Christian home, I believed that because we weren’t married I had the right to say “No” if my boyfriend asked me to have sex. However, I can honestly say I had no idea that it was also my prerogative to state something like, “I don’t want you to hold my hand.” I thought these signs of physical affection were obligatory if we were more than friends and were potentially headed toward marriage. When I came into young adulthood and accepted my sexual orientation, any remote idea that I had rights concerning physical boundaries flew out the window. The question of how such things were supposed to work in the context of a lesbian relationship completely blew my mind. I was relatively innocent regarding sex and had experienced mixed messages about physical affection limits before my college years. I had remembered hearing, “No sex or touching of private parts until you’re married” and that rubbing my high school boyfriend’s shoulders was enough to upset my parents, but I don’t recall ever getting the message that I could make my own determinations about other things that felt wrong in my body simply because of my feelings on the matter. It has only been within the past few years that I’ve come to see how wrong I was about this.

Somewhere along the way to my early twenties, I came into the notion that sex was something I owed to another woman if we had decided to pursue a more-than-friends relationship. Not only did I think I would be obliged to her in this way, but I also believed that obligation would extend to whatever sexual actions she wanted to perform. Despite this, something just didn’t seem okay with giving another person unfettered control over my body. About three weeks into one of my first serious relationships and following two weeks of my girlfriend’s complaining that I was “leading her on,” I asked her, “What does having sex with another person mean to you?” I was anticipating responses like “intimacy,” “closeness,” and “connection.” Her response took me completely by surprise: “It means getting the pleasure I want, and maybe the other person will experience some pleasure too,” she replied cooly. She began to explain that sex was a means to an end, and that’s exactly how–less than a week later–she approached our first time together. When I requested that we stop a few minutes into the experience, she paid no attention and continued with what she had been doing. And I’ll always remember her response a couple of days later when I finally had the courage to confront her: “What’s the matter? I was just playing around with you.

Speaking of boundaries, I think I’ve reached mine with this post. Writing even this much on such a sensitive topic has been a bit exhausting. I don’t mean to imply that one can trace all my sexual mistakes back to popped toes. I’m quite confident that it doesn’t work that way, and I’m responsible for my own actions as an adult. I’ve experienced a number of physical boundary violations in my life up to this point, and discussions of those might be material for future blog posts. But I cannot stress enough how vital it is to remind children that they can reject unwanted touch even if the toucher has innocent intentions. It’s our responsibility as adults to model respectful behavior toward all people’s bodies. If this doesn’t happen, we run the risk of teaching the wrong lesson: that expressions of sexuality, whether sexually active or celibate, are ultimately all about satisfying other people.

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.

What I Learned from Being Robbed at Knife Point

A reflection by Lindsey

The last several months have been incredibly eventful for Sarah and me. If you’ve been following our Twitter feed, you may know that I’ve been actively looking for a job. The search has definitely had its ups and its downs. Probably the lowest moment was when I was robbed by three teenagers at knife point while walking home from a temporary job.

I’ve done temporary jobs before. Typically, those opportunities come when an organization needs an extra set of hands. Sometimes you luck out and they’re in the process of trying to fill a vacancy. Other times, organizations have a short-term project where they need support performing routine tasks. The tasks associated with temporary jobs are generally extremely repetitive in nature. But they can be a foot in the door to work at some great places as well as earn a bit of cash to help during through lean times. Temporary work is a short-term solution while looking for the next opportunity. As I’ve worked in temporary jobs, I’ve been unable to avoid feeling like a mere cog in the wheel. I don’t like the idea that any person could do what I’m doing, but even more I loathe the idea of not being able to contribute financially.

However, it doesn’t take much to have a day’s earnings at a temporary job completely erased. I was heading home after a full day at one job in a rough part of the city. Since I knew this about the location, I wasn’t carrying much. I had my ID, my subway fare card, my credit card, and a small bit of a cash. I had been working at that location for a couple of weeks. I knew there was a spot between the job site and the subway stop that could be bad news, but I was trying to keep everything in perspective while walking with purpose to and fro.

Then, my good fortune ran out.

I was nearing the end of the project. Walking from work to the subway, I noticed three teenagers hanging out at the spot I predicted could be trouble. I was too close to modify the route I was taking. I just tried to pass on through, hoping my walking with purpose would get me by. When one of the teenagers grabbed my coat and asked for my wallet, I knew I wasn’t going to be so lucky. Give me your wallet. I don’t remember another time when I’ve thanked each of my lucky stars individually and by name for not carrying a wallet. However, with each Give me your wallet, the situation escalated. At first, the teenager issued the command more forcefully, then showed a fist, and then drew a knife. With each new escalation, I felt my options shrinking and my heart skipping a few beats as I tried to strategize anew for getting out of the situation intact. When I saw the knife, I realized that I continued resistance was only going to lead to my getting beaten up so I decided to part with the few items in my pocket. After they had my wallet, they switched gears to Give me your phone. I freaked out internally at the thought of losing my phone, because my phone is such a lifeline. Somehow, I managed to summon enough strength to resist long enough so they lost interest in continuing to pursue my phone. I made haste to the subway station so I could call the police and start the process of filing a police report. The adrenaline was pumping, and I wanted to be sure that I’d attend to my safety first.

After the initial adrenaline rush, I realized that the monetary value of what I had lost that day was more than my monetary gains for the 8 hours I had spent working. A huge part of me was absolutely devastated by realizing I had lost more than I had gained from 8 hours of truly mindless activity. I mentioned the day’s events on Facebook and Twitter, hoping for nothing else but a chance to share my rotten day. I could have never predicted what happened next as, one by one, friends started to contact me.

It was incredible. Brené Brown has a TED talk about how our vulnerability creates space for others to share their vulnerability with us. Vulnerability also opens avenues for real support. Friends told me stories about various traumatic events. Some friends helped us out financially. Other friends made a point to call me periodically over the next few weeks to see how I was holding together. People’s interest in my job search surged forward, a surge that has lasted to this day. In the days that followed the robbery, I was continually amazed at how each of my friends reached out to me in different ways that were all profoundly meaningful. It meant a great deal to be able to allow others to support and care for me during that time, as I frequently find myself on the giving side of support.

Getting robbed at knife point showed me just how awesome friends can be when life deals one a rather rubbish hand. Job hunting can make a person weary. The world can seem especially heartless. Add a robbery into the mix, and one can be tempted to throw in the towel. Yet, when things seem darkest, friends are quick to hold the light.

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.

12 Ways People with a Modern, Liberal Sexual Ethic Can Be More Supportive of Celibate LGBT Christians

Yesterday, we published 12 Ways People with a Traditional Sexual Ethic Can Be More Supportive of Celibate LGBT Christians, and we received a lot of great feedback. Today’s post is its complement, written specifically for straight people with a modern, liberal sexual ethic who would like to be more supportive of celibate LGBT Christians. Some points might  also be helpful for LGBT Christians holding a progressive sexual ethic, and we plan to do a post in a couple of weeks focusing on the same topic with that audience in mind. If we’ve left anything out, please feel free to add more helpful tips in the comments. We hope you enjoy!

1. Respect our choice to live celibacy. Choosing celibacy can be just as difficult as choosing a sexually active way of life. For a person with progressive views on sexual ethics, respecting our decisions on this matter should be no different than respecting others’ decisions to be in (or be open to) sexually active relationships. It’s easy to assume that celibacy is not a free choice, especially since many celibate LGBT people are members of Christian denominations that teach a traditional sexual ethic. We believe that in general, people do have choices to accept or reject their Christian traditions’ teachings on marriage and sexuality. People in most developed societies have the freedom to join whatever faith tradition they wish, and nothing is keeping a person who sees a liberal sexual ethic as a primary theological concern from finding a denomination or church that teaches a liberal sexual ethic or accepts that members will have differences of opinion on sexual ethics. For most LGBT people who are legally of age, remaining in a denomination that teaches a traditional sexual ethic (and living by that sexual ethic) is a free choice. Please acknowledge this, even if you don’t agree with our choices.

2. Make friends with the question mark. Ask us why we chose celibacy. Do not assume that all celibate LGBT Christians have chosen celibacy for the same reasons. Some might have chosen celibacy because they feel that is how God is calling them, personally, to live. Others might have chosen celibacy because that way of life feels most natural to them, and things just sort of fell into place as they sometimes do with people who feel called to marriage. Still, others might respond with, “I’m celibate because I believe gay sex is a sin,” or “I’m celibate because I believe God calls all lesbian, gay, transgender (and some bisexual) Christians to celibacy.” But you’ll never know why a person chose celibacy unless you ask. There are a million and one possible reasons for decisions people make in life, and this decision is no different.

3. Affirm that God calls some people to live celibate lives. The fact that God calls some people to celibacy is entirely scriptural. There are a number of biblical references to celibacy and its goodness, including St. Paul’s discussion of marriage and celibacy as ways of life in 1 Corinthians 7. We notice that sometimes, people who take a modern, liberal approach to sexual ethics aren’t very quick to affirm celibacy as a God-given vocation for anyone. We’ve been told on occasion by liberal Christians that celibacy is “unnatural” and “oppressive” in all circumstances, despite the reality that it has been an integral part of the Christian tradition since the early Church. Throwing misconceptions about celibacy in our faces will only alienate us. Even if you don’t agree with our approach to sexual ethics, and even if you don’t believe us when we say that we feel called to celibacy, acknowledging that God calls at least some people to celibacy can go a long way toward supporting celibate LGBT Christians.

4. Consider that LGBT people have a variety of different ideas about what it means to be accepted fully in the Church. Legal gay marriage is a hot-button issue in American society today. Sacramental or denominationally-recognized gay marriage is a hot-button issue within Christian traditions. We get this, and we also see how much pain contention over the issue has caused in several churches. We don’t want to minimize that.  Yet, we find it important to point out that some Christians with a progressive sexual ethic assume LGBT people will feel welcome only in Christian traditions that bless same-sex marriages. For most celibate LGBT Christians (single and coupled), sacramental marriage for same-sex couples is not a priority. Many of us would even advocate against our specific denominations’ recognizing gay marriages. Some of us accept that there are other denominations that will perform gay marriages and are completely within their rights to do so. People with a modern, liberal sexual ethic should not assume that all celibate LGBT people would suddenly be liberated and not need to live celibacy anymore if all Christian denominations were to begin blessing same-sex marriages. Speaking for the two of us, even if our Christian tradition were to change its teachings on marriage and sexuality tomorrow, we would still be committed to celibacy. As for acceptance within one’s church, celibate LGBT Christians might be more concerned with other issues: will my denomination prevent me from receiving the Eucharist? Will I be asked to leave my faith community? Will a religious leader try to force me to change my sexual orientation? Consider these issues and do not focus solely on marriage.

5. Promote non-discrimination in employment and housing. Even looking at legal issues, supporting LGBT people goes far beyond the issue of marriage. Celibate LGBT Christians hold many different opinions on legal (as opposed to sacramental) gay marriage, and there are a number of other legal issues affecting LGBT people regardless of sexual activity status. The two that come to mind most prominently for us are employment and housing issues. In many states, it is completely legal for employers to fire people (or not hire in the first place) even on suspicion that they are part of the LGBT community. This issue is very important to the two of us, as Lindsey has experienced more than one wrongful termination. It’s also legal in many places to turn a worthy applicant away from a potential housing arrangement on suspicion that the person is LGBT. Neither of us has personally experienced housing discrimination, but we know people who have. Celibate or not, LGBT people need allies advocating for these laws and policies to change. But because so many allies focus all their energies on the issue of marriage equality, advocacy on these other issues ends up getting shortchanged.

6. Listen, listen, listen. Get to know us as people. Learn about who we are and what is important to us. We’re people, not symbols of the progressive side of a culture war. If we tell you that you’ve done something we perceive as hurtful or discriminatory, be willing to communicate with us about that. Don’t assume that you’re above reproach because you have a long history as an ally. We appreciate that many of you have risked your own reputations to support the LGBT community and we are very grateful for that, but even folks with the best of intentions can make serious mistakes. Being able to admit your mistakes as an ally is one thing that will lead more celibate LGBT people to see you as a safe person. Too often, Christian allies dismiss the concerns of LGBT celibates because of theological disagreement. This is a serious mistake. If you’re going to support LGBT Christians, be willing to support all of us—not just those whose theologies match yours.

7. Allow us to define ourselves and our relationships in our preferred ways. If a celibate LGB Christian wants to use the term “same-sex attracted” instead of “gay,” “lesbian,” or “bisexual,” respect that. Don’t insist that in order to come to a place of self-acceptance, the person must use the term you prefer. Don’t insist that a transgender person use the pronouns with which you are most comfortable. And as evidenced by the existence of our blog, celibate LGBT couples do exist. Not all of us define those relationships in the same ways. Some may use terms like “platonic partnership” or “covenant friendship.” Others (like the two of us) might not know exactly what to call ourselves, but have a sense that words like “family” and “team” come closest to ideal. Celibate couples might change their term preferences over time as we come to a greater understanding of what our relationships mean. We need the space to explore this in our own ways. Please allow us the courtesy of defining (or intentionally not defining) our own relationships. Insisting that you know better than we do what to call us crosses many lines of appropriateness.

8. Don’t assume we’re judging sexually active LGBT people. It’s true that most celibate LGBT people hold to traditional, conservative beliefs on marriage and sexuality. However, this does not mean that celibates necessarily sit in places of judgment, looking down on the lives of sexually active LGBT couples and shaking our fingers in loud (or quiet) condemnation. Yes, there are celibate LGBT people who do judge sexually active LGBT people, but many of us feel that we have no business contemplating what may or may not be happening in another person’s sex life. Regardless of the reasons for our celibacy, many of us are concerned with keeping our eyes on our own paper, so to speak. That’s true for disagreements on several other theological issues too, not just same-sex sexual activity. Speaking for the two of us specifically, we can’t see any benefit that would come from spending any amount of time imagining what other people are or aren’t doing in bed. Working out one’s own salvation is a full time job. If you are interested in supporting celibate LGBT people, start real conversations with us on any number of issues and skip the lecture about how our way of life is supposedly a judgment of someone else’s way of life.

9. Avoid speaking ill of our Christian traditions. If you take a modern, liberal approach to sexual ethics, you might not be too fond of Christian traditions that disagree with you on this point. It may be tempting to say unkind things about the Roman Catholic Church, Eastern Orthodox Church, Seventh Day Adventist Church, Presbyterian Church in America, Southern Baptist Church, and so on. We want to discourage you from doing this. Many celibate LGBT Christians come from these traditions and others that teach a more conservative sexual ethic. If you’re really interested in supporting us, bashing our churches for being “backward,” “sexist,” and “homophobic” is not the way to do it. Celibate LGBT Christians who are part of these traditions likely understand and agree with their respective teachings on marriage and sexuality. Often, this acceptance has come after much careful thought and prayer. Please honor the care we have taken in forming our consciences and avoid reducing our beliefs to, “Don’t have sex because a homophobic church says so.” It’s also possible that you might have a misunderstanding about what our Christian traditions teach on marriage and human sexuality. Asking us about this instead of relying solely on your own biases is a much better way to start a supportive conversation.

10. Understand that celibate LGBT people will have different experiences of celibacy. There are celibate LGBT people who feel happy, fulfilled, and blessed in their vocations. There are also celibate LGBT people who see celibacy as misery and a most horrible cross to bear. Both realities exist. The presence of one does not negate the presence of the other. It is not helpful for any of us if you make blanket statements about celibacy as an oppressive manner of living. Celibacy is hard because all vocations are hard. Insisting that celibacy brings nothing but suffering invalidates the experiences of people who find joy in celibacy. It also robs people who are struggling with celibacy of any hope that they might find happiness in this way of life. Things haven’t always been peaches and cream for the two of us, and sometimes that’s still true. But if during past difficult times we had only encountered other Christians who degraded celibacy, we may have given up and might never have come to experience the joy we now find in our vocation.

11. Pray for us. Just like all other Christians, we need prayer. We have worries, fears, anxieties, and struggles. We endure trials in life, and we also experience times when we want to join with all our friends in prayers of praise and thanksgiving. All vocations bring challenges, and we need your prayers just as much as your sexually active LGBT friends need them. Instead of praying that God shows us how wrong we are to pursue celibacy, pray that we will be strengthened in our vocations. If you have a close relationship with us, it’s likely that we’re already praying for the same thing for you.

12. Love us just like you love all other LGBT people. As a person with a modern, liberal sexual ethic, you probably know more than most how often LGBT people experience affronts to our dignity and worth. Both celibate and sexually active LGBT people suffer because of hatred and intolerance of all kinds. One of the best things you can do to support celibate LGBT Christians is to remind us of how much God loves us, and to show us that love in your own words and actions. This means loving us just as we are rather than in spite of our celibacy. This means desiring what is best for us, even if that doesn’t square with what you want for us. This also means standing up for us just as you would stand up for any other person experiencing an injustice, and helping to make sure we don’t experience a double dose of discrimination because of how few people in today’s world respect the celibate way of 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.

12 Ways People with a Traditional Sexual Ethic Can Be More Supportive of Celibate LGBT Christians

Since we wrote on 10 Things We Wish Our Church Family Knew and 9 Things We Wish Straight Allies Knew, we’ve been reflecting on the best advice to offer straight Christians who are interested in being more supportive of, specifically, celibate LGBT Christians. Here, we’ve listed 12 items that we see as most important for people who believe in a traditional sexual ethic to understand. Please comment at the bottom of this post if you can think of other bits of helpful advice. Tomorrow, we will be releasing a similar post aimed at straight Christians who hold to a modern, liberal sexual ethic. Update: you can read that post here.

1. Treat us as you would treat any other member of your church. We are people, and we are sinners just like every other person in your congregation. Expect that we will have many of the same interests and concerns as other members of your church. Know that we want to be just as involved in the life of the parish as everyone else. Treating us as though we are somehow different can be hurtful, whether your assumption is benign as, “Those people must be here to make a statement,” or as egregious as, “Those people are sexual deviants who are here to corrupt my children.”

2. Look beyond the culture wars. Even if you believe there is a “gay agenda,” we can assure you that the only agenda most LGBT people are concerned with is being able to live our daily lives in peace. Be mindful of the language you use when expressing disapproval of LGBT-related events, movements, and legislation. The LGBT members of your church likely have varied opinions on culture war issues like gay marriage, and it is incorrect to assume that an LGBT person who attends your church is actively trying to change your denomination’s theology of marriage and sexuality. It’s likely that if the person has chosen celibacy, he/she accepts your denomination’s stance on these issues. But whether this is true or not for a particular celibate LGBT Christian, it’s still painful for all of us to be forced hear how “Gay people are destroying the social and moral fabric of America” at coffee hour. Also, don’t try to assign us a special duty to show sexually active LGBT Christians “the error of their ways.” We aren’t perfect, and we don’t sit a place of judgment. Any sexually active LGBT Christian who is interested in our celibacy is free to approach us to talk about this matter.

3. Show us that you’re a safe person. This can begin with something as simple as flashing us a smile or saying a friendly hello after the service has ended. Tell us that we’re welcome at church, and introduce us to other members of the congregation who we may not know so well. Open up to us about aspects of your own life as you feel comfortable. Indicate that you see us as people. It might take a while for us to reach back once you’ve reached out, but please do not take this as an insult. Many of us could do better at being communicative, but this is a challenge because we’ve experienced so much hurt in church environments in the past.

4. Get to know us. Invite us over for homemade pizza night. Have a board game day and ask us to bring Ticket to Ride. Ask about our hobbies and interests. Sarah enjoys sewing and could likely help your child with a project for scouts. Engineer Lindsey might be interested in bonding with your family over a model rocketry project. You might discover that we and your own family are crazy about The Chronicles of Narnia and an evening spent watching a movie together is just the thing all of us need after a stressful week of work and school. Find out what’s going on in our lives and ask us how we’re doing. Check in on us if you haven’t seen us at church in a couple of weeks. All these things let us know that you care about us.

5. Engage us in topics of conversation that don’t involve sexual morality. This may be hard to believe given the prominence of LGBT issues in the news, but most LGBT people probably don’t spend any more time thinking about sex than you do. As such, we might be interested in discussing sexual morality, but we might not. Celibate LGBT Christians do not need to be told again and again what the Bible says and what the Church teaches about same-sex sexual activity. We already know, and often we see denominational teachings on marriage and sexuality as vital elements in understanding our own vocations. We can engage in fruitful conversations with you about a wide range of spiritual and theological topics that do not involve sexuality: prayer, the ecumenical councils, our understandings of Christ, scripture readings, favorite saints, new spiritual disciplines we are trying, etc. Not every conversation you have with us needs to be about our views on chastity.

6. When we indicate that we’re comfortable talking about questions of sexual ethics, engage with us. As we said above, not every discussion needs to focus on sexuality, but that doesn’t mean the topic is off limits altogether. We might not always feel comfortable talking about it. Don’t push us, but don’t be afraid to ask questions. The worst we could say is, “We’re not comfortable talking about that right now.” We’re more likely to be willing if you’ve shown us that you’re a safe person. When we’re ready to discuss sexuality issues, we’ll be glad to have those conversations with you. Always be respectful of our boundaries and consider the purpose of the questions you’re asking. Is your query motivated by curiosity? If so, tell us that and leave us the option of not answering if we become uncomfortable mid-discussion. Does the question come from a desire to understand the lives of celibate LGBT Christians more fully? Those are our favorite types of questions to answer, and we’ll do so if it’s safe. Are you asking out of a desire to gauge our theological orthodoxy so you can report your findings to a religious leader in hopes that he’ll “rein us in” or force us to leave the church? This is not a good reason for asking us questions, and if this is the case, it’s likely we’ll be able to see through why you’ve suddenly become interested in us.

7. Respect the language we use when describing ourselves. Words like “gay” and “transgender” may not mean what you think they mean. When most gay people use the word “gay” as a descriptor, it is in reference to sexual orientation, not level of sexual activity. It’s inappropriate to tell a celibate gay Christian, “If you aren’t having sex, you aren’t gay.” It’s equally condescending to tell a celibate bisexual Christian, “If you meet someone of the opposite sex and decide to marry him/her, you’ll not be bisexual anymore.” Likewise, it is not correct to assume that a person identifying as “transgender” is necessarily interested in surgically altering his/her body, and the message, “You’re really a girl even though you feel like a boy,” can be profoundly alienating to a transgender person. Assigning the term “same-sex attracted” to a person just because you’re uncomfortable with your own presumptions about his/her preferred language is harmful and disrespectful of that person’s experience. At the same time, if a person would rather you use the term “same-sex attracted,” then use it. It’s always a good idea to ask a person about his/her preferred language, and it should never be assumed that someone’s choice of terms means a denial of his/her identity in Christ.

8. Acknowledge that you can learn from us and we can learn from you. As celibate LGBT Christians, we are just as much part of the Body of Christ as are all other Christians. Sometimes we do things well, other times we make mistakes. Sometimes we do what God asks of us, other times we fall short. Regardless, we are not your project, and you are not ours. We do not come to church for the experience of heterosexual, cisgender people teaching us “the right way” to follow Christ. Nor do we come to church with the attitude that because of our celibacy, we can teach you and everyone else “the right way” to follow Christ. We’re fallible, and we believe that Jesus is the best teacher for all of us. And along our shared journey towards Him, there are ways in which everyone can learn from everyone else.

9. Don’t assume that remaining celibate is our primary spiritual struggle. Not every heterosexual, cisgender Christian lives in a constant battle to maintain chastity. The same can be said for LGBT Christians. People, no matter their sexual orientations and gender identities, have varying levels of sexual desire. It doesn’t make sense to suggest that because someone is part of the LGBT community, living celibacy is any harder than it is for a heterosexual, cisgender person. Do not assume that a celibate LGBT Christian sees his/her sexual orientation or gender identity as “a cross to bear.” Many of us are just as comfortable with our choice to pursue celibacy as we are with all other aspects of life. And we deal with the same sins as you do: pride, anger, greed, etc. Often, the potential for engaging in these sins is much greater than the potential for engaging in sexual sin.

10. If we are struggling with celibacy, show compassion. Sometimes, we do struggle with celibacy because no vocation is easy. The demands of serving Christ in the world as celibate singles or celibate couples are great, and no Christian tradition provides us with all the guidance we need for living celibacy outside a monastery. Some celibate LGBT people do see their sexualities and gender identities as crosses. This doesn’t mean that those of us who take joy in celibacy are morally or spiritually stronger than those of us who don’t. Telling a person who is struggling with celibacy to, “Just bear your cross, do what God asks, and stay on the straight and narrow path,” isn’t helpful. Even we who feel greatly blessed within our celibate vocations sometimes need the space to cry out, “I just can’t do this anymore!” We imagine that on occasion, people who live the vocations of marriage and monasticism feel similarly. When we’re experiencing difficult seasons of life, say, “That sounds challenging. I’m sorry you’re hurting. How can I support you during this time?” We might not know how to respond in the moment, but we will be glad that you’ve asked.

11. Pray for us. We need prayer just like all other members of the Body of Christ. Prayer strengthens us in our vocations and gives us comfort when things are really hard. Our prayer needs will be similar to other Christians’ prayer needs, but might also be different. Celibacy as a way of life poses a unique set of challenges. However, if we request your prayers, please do not assume that necessarily means, “Sarah and Lindsey want me to pray that they can keep themselves from having sex. They’re struggling with sexual temptations.” There are LGBT Christians who do ask for prayer as they work towards living chastely, but it’s important to remember that celibacy is not just about sexual abstinence. When we are struggling in our celibate vocation, that could mean we’re experiencing difficulty in living radical hospitality, that we aren’t able to be as vulnerable as we would like, that our emotional intimacy needs aren’t being met, or that we’ve fallen away from certain spiritual disciplines.

12. Love us, and all LGBT people. As LGBT Christians, we hear a lot of, “Love the sinner, hate the sin,” and, “I love you enough to tell you that being gay is wrong.” But it’s rare that we see love from conservative, heterosexual, cisgender Christians. If you really love us so much, be willing to show us that by treating us as human beings with dignity and worth. And that includes all LGBT people, not just celibate LGBT Christians. God calls us to love people even if we don’t agree with their approaches to sexual morality and other matters. You can show us how much you love us by taking a stand when your coworker makes an inappropriate joke about sexual orientation, advocating for an end to discriminatory employment practices, and speaking out against LGBT-related human rights abuses in countries like Uganda. We’ll believe that you love us when you demonstrate it on a regular basis.

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.