Category Archives: LGBT Christian

Silencing: The Beginning of Persecution

Posted on by

This post is our first contribution to the What Persecution Is series that we are exploring with Jake Dockter at The Great White Whale. This series explores faith, gender, sexuality, race, culture, and identity. We’ll be posting one post a week for this series over the next several weeks. We’d love for you to join the conversation. Please let us know if you’re posting any related content on your own blog, so we can talk with you.

In the initial post of this series, Jake asks the following questions:

“Compared to the discrimination that our LGBTQ family has felt over generations, being denied rights, being denied love, being denied salvation, being denied access to God or the body of Christ, and worst of all being denied their own identity… does having a real estate reality show cancelled really add up to discrimination?  Is being asked to not pray [meaning, lead prayer at a banquet sponsored by the President] symmetrical to the death threats, hate crimes, actual murders, denials, and mockings that gay and transgender and questioning people experience every day?”

Reading Jake’s list of the ways LGBTQ people have been discriminated against might be jarring for some. Many a good Christian will say, “But I’ve never thought about killing an LGBTQ person. I would never kill or physically harm an LGBTQ person. I’m not persecuting them at all.” However, we believe the beginnings of persecution are much more subtle than wishing active harm on another human. We’ve observed that LGBTQ people who want to share their stories frequently get met with shouting, finger-pointing, name calling, and Bible thumping. For example, once when Sarah was talking with a friend, Sarah’s friend shared about how her priest gave a homily about treating LGBT people with respect and dignity. Almost immediately after describing the homily, she launched into a rant about how that message was uncalled for and the priest was a flaming liberal. When Sarah tried to suggest that the priest’s homily sounded like a nice reminder of the importance of treating every person like a human being, Sarah’s friend cut Sarah off mid-sentence. She expressed unwillingness to listen because from her vantage point, if Sarah thought it was possible to be a lesbian and a Christian, Sarah was not worth listening to and was certainly a heretic.

Silencing. “I’m right, and you’re wrong.” Stiffening necks. Pursed lips. “I have God on my side, so I don’t have to give you the time of day.” Flashes of anger in the eyes. Hands curling into fists, even if involuntarily. Immediate shifts in posture.

We’ve seen these all before. The patterns repeat themselves the instant we mention that we are LGBT. Conversation takes on the character of defensive combat. Topics discussed not even five minutes before are forgotten as adrenaline floods the body and emotion overtakes reason and civility. The more we try to explain ourselves, the more likely we are to hear “Shut. Up. I’m not interested in hearing your story,” with a sneer that indicates our perspective is little more than a fairy tale, or “You have nothing to contribute to this conversation. You’re just deceived and trying to deceive others.”

We are bemused by many stories where Christians in America claim they have been persecuted for their religious beliefs. Often, someone has rescinded an invitation to speak in a teaching capacity where a person has the potential for reaching a large audience. In crying persecution, this person is effectively saying, “Everyone should listen to me.” But while advocating for his or her own desire to be heard, that person seems to have little to no appreciation that every day, he or she is silencing others. When a person claiming to follow Christ presents “biblical” teaching by comparing LGBT people to those who engage in bestiality, it’s almost instinctive for LGBT audience members to try and curl up in a ball, take up as little space as possible, and remove themselves from the situation as discreetly and expediently as they can. This kind of comparison when used by Christian “teachers” dehumanizes, vilifies, and demonizes LBGT people. Furthermore, it obfuscates any true Christian teaching by packaging orthodoxy with hatred.

There is a marked difference between being silenced and losing an opportunity to speak your views to a national audience. Freedom of speech in America means that you will not lose your liberty over something you say. It does not mean that you are entitled to escape the social consequences of what you’ve said. Children who brag the playground that they can throw the football the farthest should not be surprised when their classmates take them up on the challenge. Articulating one’s view about contentious social topics like LGBT issues and having those views challenged by others who disagree does not amount to persecution.

It’s telling that consistently and repeatedly, we get the message from others that we have no business telling our story. On our blog, we’ve processed negative messages from people telling us to shut up by stressing it’s not easy to tell a story, asking whose story counts, wondering why people act as the language police to force us to use particular scripts, musing on whether the church extends conditional welcome, and sharing about how we sometimes feel betrayed. We’ve discussed that when people say things like, “Our kids should not encounter a gay couple on the television in our living room,” we feel less than welcome to visit their houses. At least seven of our 128 posts on this blog to date deal with our responses when others tell us that we shouldn’t be speaking at all. That’s 5.5% and is an exceptionally conservative estimate.

Now please understand, we are not trying to say that we are experiencing persecution on a personal level or are being treated worse than other folks who are also engaged in this discussion. We are experiencing attempts at silencing. But we wonder, what tactics of silencing must one employ before he or she crosses the boundary into persecution of the other?

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.

Fostering Civil Conversations about LGBT People and the Church

Posted on by

We are grateful to our collaborators for this post: David Romano, Erik, Bill, Alison, and one other friend who wishes to remain anonymous.

Here at A Queer Calling, we work very hard to foster civil conversation about LGBT Christians. One of the first things we did when we started our blog was to author our comment policy. We know that comment boxes on the internet can make people seriously question the future of humanity, especially when contentious topics are being discussed. Since we value vulnerability and hospitality, we wanted a comment policy that helps people get over their understandable fear of the combox.

We recently tweeted:

It is completely, absolutely, totally, and entirely true that we welcome all people to leave us comments. We have especially enjoyed thoughtful challenge from people who disagree with us, even going so far to say that respectful disagreement is one of the ways we feel affirmed. However, we’ve noticed some differences in how various ideological camps have decided to engage with us as bloggers. We wonder who is on the other side of the search engine when we see that people have found is with search terms like: “Are Sarah and Lindsey of A Queer Calling really celibate?” “A Queer Calling are they really gay or straight people trying to fool Side A people,” “Are Lindsey and Sarah of A Queer Calling really orthodox?” “A Queer Calling self hating gays,” and “Lindsey and Sarah gay does their priest know.” What strikes us about these questions is that they are clearly asking something about the two of us but the searcher seemingly values asking the hive mind of an internet search engine more than contacting us directly.

We’ve received some correspondence from more conservative readers that indicates fear of getting shouted down by more liberal readers for whom the ship on LGBT Christian issues has already sailed full-steam ahead to complete affirmation of same-sex marriage. We wonder if people feel more comfortable having these discussions when everyone present basically agrees theologically and politically. If everyone gathered has come to modern liberal conclusions about sexual ethics, then it’s easier to decry those who hold traditional conservative conclusions as “out of touch” (if you’re among a reasonably polite group) or heartless hypocrites with no awareness of how the LGBT community suffers from soul-crushing oppression. We’ve noticed a breakdown of civility on both sides when people assume at the outset of the conversation that anyone who disagrees with them is ignorant or malicious.

A couple of weeks ago, we had a chance to see what happens when people move a conversation that started somewhere else into purposes that suit the sensibilities of their own camps. We had published a post where we discussed the question, “How would you suggest that Christian traditions respond to LGBT people who have given their all to celibacy only to see it fail them?” Another blogger, Daniel Mattson, quoted from our post and added significant spin that misrepresented the intention of our original post entirely. Another writer, Austin Ruse of Crisis Magazine, picked up on that blogger’s themes. Some other celibate, LGBT, Christians who are our friends recognized the quote as being from our blog, which is how we found out that we had been misrepresented. When we found these articles, we published our initial response. We and our friends were amazed at how quickly the conversation our post had tried to start became less than civil. We all noticed how both writers seemed to be making demands that celibate, LGBT, Christians should “stop whining” and “man up.” The more we’ve thought about this incident, we have realized that it’s not an isolated event. The blogosphere is extremely contentious when it comes to LGBT people and the Church, where similar patterns continue to repeat themselves. Several of our friends wanted to provide their own responses to those who feel qualified to give such orders to others just outside of their ideological camp. Therefore, we decided to give some space here at A Queer Calling in an attempt to add more voices to the conversation about how to foster civil discourse about LGBT people and the Church.

On the internet, it is really easy to bully. The internet affords bullies a range of tools. A person can successfully move a conversation into his or her own ideological camp and attempt to isolate it by not providing a link to the original source. It becomes easy for readers to take authors out of context when this happens. In thinking about one of the aforementioned articles, Erik reflects: “I might address the academic failures of the article – Ruse doesn’t properly cite the quotes he uses, thus denying his reader to explore the original context of the quote in full & demonstrating poor editorial practice.”

Additionally, an author can package condescending messages in a multitude of forms. Bill comments, “Instead, in pundit like tones, they have introduced a new unhelpful conversation, with new loaded terminology like ‘new homophiles’ — a quick and easy way to lump, categorize, and demonize without encountering anyone in the spirit of truth.”

One celibate, LGBT Christian we talked with who wishes to remain anonymous shared:

“I felt my nerves get on edge a bit and my heart crumbles when I read statements made by Mattson and Ruse that lacked empathy; I felt shame after seeing the Han Solo eye roll photo insert and the crying baby. Why did it affect me that way? I am not the person whom it is directed at but I can relate. I felt bad for those it was aimed at. Writing like that instills condescension towards ‘the other.’  How can it not be meant to injure? Although the written word is only ink on paper it can be a wielded sword in the blogosphere world.  And it reminds me of bullies on the playground.”

When people are bullied, they often have to convince themselves that they have a story worth sharing. Alison asks, “My question for Mattson is: Are you saying that I should stop opening up to other Christians about my struggles? Are you saying they should stop opening up to me? We should just assume that others have a greater cross without talking with each other about those crosses?”

Many people can exaggerate and misrepresent what a particular Christian tradition teaches about LGBT people. It is no secret that many Christians traditions have confusing and possibly less than charitable teachings about LGBT people. There are many official documents from several traditions that people can quote in order to shout down the voices of LGBT people and their allies. However, it is also possible to go beyond the meaning a particular teaching. David Romano, a Roman Catholic, highlights the way that authors can contort the official teachings of his Christian tradition in order to weaponize them:

“I accept that homosexuality is ‘disordered,’ meaning outside of God’s natural law, and that I am to remain single and chaste. I have no objections to these positions at all. What I object to, however, is a blogger or writer who refers to me as ‘evil,’ The Catholic Church does not believe I am evil; the Catholic Church specifically states in the Catechism that those with same-sex attractions are to be treated with dignity and respect. Referring to my orientation as ‘evil’ and suggesting that “manning up” means sitting in a corner and not discussing my personal struggles is hardly respectful.”

Entrenched ideological divides can make it difficult, even impossible, for people to share legitimate concerns about the status quo. When it comes to questions about LGBT people and the Church, we are often talking about the status of things in the present moment. Many times, people sharing about how they have been hurt by the church find unexpected points of connection with others, with concerns both near and far to LGBT Christians.

Like other members of the Church, many celibate, LGBT Christians want to be there when people are experiencing pain. Alison notes:

“When I have said ‘I felt like there was no place for me in the Church,’ the response has often been, ‘Me too!’ from every orientation. The response has been an embrace of one another. Mattson is correct in saying ‘Who HASN’T felt lost in the Church at some point in their lives?’ What I don’t understand is why he thinks we (all the Christians who talk about these struggles, not just gays) are ‘whining’ when we mention this incredibly formative, incredibly common experience. Does Mattson think gay Christians are the only ones talking about this experience? I recently heard nearly those exact same words from the mother of a child with a sensory disorder. The child has a hard time with the Divine Liturgy, and she felt like there was no place in the Church for her family. She felt like others were judging her for leaving early with her son or not attending at all, like she’d be given an attendance mandate, and no support in fulfilling it. If anyone called that conversation ‘whining’ or told her that she should just assume that everyone has a greater cross to bear, I’d be livid with that person. She was sharing a piece of her heart with me. If she hadn’t told me how the church could be more supportive of disabled children and their parents, how would I know what she would find encouraging and supportive?”

Bill reflects, “It is unfortunate that people such as Mr. Ruse or Mr. Mattson end up distorting and reducing to stock characters the very people who would likely agree with them the most if they were just comparing doctrinal and moral notes apart from spin.”

Our respondent who wishes to remain anonymous noted, “Unfortunately fighting will continue to be a problem as long as there are bullies and audiences.”

Lack of civil conversation with one another implies we can forget that the Church is, by nature, a communal organism. Erik states:

“There is a deeper problem in Mr. Ruse’s entire line of thinking that I feel compelled to address: his understanding of the nature of the Church community. It concerns me, deeply, and for matters entirely unrelated to the particular topic of homosexuality, that Mr. Ruse seems to argue that folks ought not discuss or share the nature of the cross they carry. It is unclear whether he thinks only Gay Catholics should, or everyone with a cross should – he cites the example of an unmarried woman in his parish who doesn’t complain about her singleness, so it may be that Mr. Ruse would simply prefer if everyone stopped complaining.”

As the Body of Christ, we are called to be mindful of everyone in our midst. After all, we are to mourn with those who mourn. Paul exhorts us to not be proud, but to be willing to associate ourselves with people in low positions. Part of finding ourselves in Christ is uniting our sufferings to His and to one another. Alison shares:

“My vlog has attracted several porn addicted straight men contacting me for support in facing their struggles. They contact me privately and ask me to pray for them. I go a few steps further, and connect them with resources for porn addiction and communities which focus on supporting those with this specific struggle. I can’t imagine their struggle, I’m glad they have a community to share their struggle with. I’m glad that they share their struggle with me, and I feel honored to pray for them. When they talk about how I can be more supportive of them in their struggle against sin, I listen.”

Erik reminds us:

“Community falls apart as people become more apathetic and disinterested in fixing parish churches. They do not participate in community functions, they do not send their children to religious education programs, and they do not know the people they’re sitting next to in the Church…. But if you value the community of the Church, if you care about our unity in Christ, if you care that Christ shared in your sins so that you may be free of them, then perhaps you might consider letting Gay Catholics have their seat at the table, and listening to their sufferings. I’d be willing to bet they want to listen to your sufferings, as well, and maybe, just maybe, lift you up in prayer. Maybe, when all is said and done, Gay Catholics just want the Church to be a real community.”

We’ve noticed that the internet can be a powerful tool for building community, even in areas filled with the most tension, but only when discourse remains civil. Civil conversation remains courteous while simultaneously allowing space for everyone and their concerns. In the Church, it’s important that we have space to listen to people who are in pain and are hurting. In so doing, we can help bear one another’s burdens while continuing our collective journey towards Christ.

We would like to close today’s post by reiterating Alison’s questions: “Why should we stop sharing each other’s burdens? Why should we stopping encouraging one-another? Why should we stop being a part of each other’s lives? Did I miss something?”

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 does it mean to be “affirmed”?

Posted on by

Pro-gay and anti-gay, Side A and Side B, liberal and orthodox. We’ve heard these terms thrown around regularly in discussions about LGBT issues within both Christian and secular contexts. Some people refer to these dichotomies as though the terminology is interchangeable, which causes great confusion (i.e. many people who would identify with the term “orthodox” would not consider themselves “anti-gay”). Within the past couple of years, we’ve noticed that another set of dichotomous terms has emerged within the conversation: affirming and non-affirming. This language seems to be taking off both within the LGBT Christian blogosphere and in published works on this topic, and as far as we can tell it is used almost exclusively by people who believe in a progressive sexual ethic. When we have asked our friends who prefer the terms “affirming” and “non-affirming” as opposed to others for describing one’s viewpoint on sexual ethics, the most common response we’ve received is, “Those descriptions are less stigmatizing than others and are more conducive to dialogue about LGBT Christian issues.”

To be honest, we have trouble seeing that perspective. It seems to us that interchanging “anti-gay,” “Side B,” and “orthodox” as though they’re attempting to communicate the exact same concept is problematic enough, and replacing these terms with the word “non-affirming” only exacerbates the problem. The same issue exists when replacing “pro-gay,” “Side A,” and “liberal” with “affirming.” As we see it, no one is actually asking the question, “What does it mean to be affirmed?” Rather, the assumption is that in order to be “affirming,” a person must hold theological beliefs that sexually active same-sex relationships are morally equivalent to sexually active opposite sex relationships, and that same-sex marriages should be performed within all Christian traditions.

Last week on Facebook, one of our straight friends observed that, “No matter how much you love and care about an LGBT, ‘Side A’ person, if you don’t support modern sexual ethics, you might as well be in league with the Westboro Baptist Church.” It’s a bit of hyperbole, but something in that statement resonated with us because of the challenges we’ve faced in advocating for our own needs for affirmation. We’ve observed that the process of defining the terms “affirming” and “non-affirming” privileges the perspectives of LGBT people with progressive sexual ethics and ignores the experiences of those who hold to a traditional sexual ethic. While we’re interested in hearing all stories that other LGBT Christians are willing to share with us, including those from people whose beliefs are different from ours, we feel it’s time to share a different take on what it means to be affirmed. Today, we’re going to tell you more about what makes the two of us, and many other LGBT celibates, feel affirmed within our faith communities.

We feel affirmed when other Christians ask questions and avoid making assumptions about what words mean, what we believe, and what our doing life together means to us. It’s comforting when we know that the other folks in our parish are able to talk to us openly and honestly just like they are with everyone else. We appreciate it when our fellow parishioners are willing to ask us, “Why do you prefer to use the language of LGBT?” instead of insisting, “If you’re not having sex, you’re not really LGBT. You should say instead that you ‘struggle with same-sex attraction (SSA).'” When folks ask us about our sexual ethic instead of presuming that it must be progressive because we’re LGBT, we feel welcomed in church exactly as we are. And we feel especially affirmed when members of our parish show interest in talking with us about how we see our way of life as opposed to glancing at us with suspicion every Sunday. We appreciate people who have gone the extra mile to invite us into their homes for dinner in order to have these conversations because it shows they really care about getting to know us.

We feel affirmed when other Christians are willing to engage in thoughtful conversation with us about areas of disagreement. Whether we’re interacting with someone whose sexual ethic is more liberal than ours or someone who disagrees with our approach to living celibacy together instead of apart, it’s important to us that we can participate in civil and edifying discussions about LGBT Christian issues. If a person only wants to preach at us without listening to our perspective, or alternatively is too afraid to express disagreement with us on any issue, we feel unwelcome. For us, an important part of affirmation is knowing that other Christians would consider involving us in tough conversations just as readily as they would ask us to participate in discussion of less contentious matters.

We feel affirmed when other Christians are friendly and hospitable to us and also allow us the opportunity to extend them friendship and hospitality. Being the Church is about being community–one that is not only united in belief, but is also united in commitment to loving each person. When members of our parish are able to connect with us somewhere within the 99% of life that has nothing to do with sexual ethics, we feel like we are truly part of one big family. We appreciate it when others can see us as Lindsey and Sarah with all our virtues, vices, interests, and personality traits instead of viewing us as “the LGBT couple” or “the celibate LGBT couple.” We love getting to know everyone in our parish, and being able to practice hospitality toward our fellow parishioners is an important part of what makes us feel affirmed.

We feel affirmed when our priest and other Christians welcome us to full participation within the life of the parish. We are very blessed to have a priest who invites us to use our gifts for the good of the whole community. We’re grateful that in our parish, we are able to participate in all ways that are available to unordained members of our Christian tradition. Shortly after we joined our current parish, we were invited to fill a slot in the rotation for families serving coffee hour. Sarah assists with teaching Sunday school. On the Feast of Pentecost this year when our worship service included readings of Acts 2:2-4 in multiple languages, Lindsey contributed by reading in Spanish and Sarah participated by signing the passage in American Sign Language. We feel not only welcome but also encouraged to participate in service projects, educational activities, and all other aspects of parish life just like everyone else.

We feel affirmed when other Christians acknowledge our humanity and dignity. When we know that the people at our church view us as people and not a project, we can relax and be ourselves. So many Christians claim license to tell LGBT people what we should or shouldn’t be doing. People who respect that we are human beings with dignity, created in God’s image and likeness are usually not interested in speculating on or policing decisions we make in our personal lives. We feel welcomed at church when other members of our faith community do not take it upon themselves to give us ethics lessons every Sunday and are instead willing to let our spiritual fathers counsel us as needed.

As we were listing and explaining each of the above points, we couldn’t help but notice that what makes us feel affirmed in church is the same basic set of items that would likely come across as “affirming” or at least “welcoming” for LGBT and heterosexual, cisgender people alike. Do not most Christians seek faith communities where members are willing to ask questions, listen, engage in conversation, be friendly and hospitable, welcome others to full participation, and recognize the divine image in each person?

For one of our Saturday Symposium questions, we asked our readers what they think it means to be affirmed. Some (both on the post itself and on Twitter) responded that true affirmation necessitates blessing marriages for same-sex couples. But others broadened the focus to helping people feel welcome and loved in general. One commenter, Jonas Weaver, stated that in his opinion support of same-sex relationships is part of the issue, but, “Affirmation is treating them with full weight and dignity and allowing them the freedom of conscience. Oddly, true affirmation sounds a heck of a lot like friendship.” Another commenter, LJ, mentioned, “It would be helpful to have a term to describe people who don’t believe that same sex ‘consummated’ relationships are ok, but basically aren’t jerks to LGBT folks.” It gladdens us to know that there are people with a liberal sexual ethic who do not reduce the issue of affirmation to a statement of, “I’m okay with it if you and your same-sex partner have sex and get married.”

More often than not, we feel caught between a rock and a hard place where the concept of “affirmation” is concerned. Most LGBT people we know would insist that for an individual or church to be considered “affirming,” he/she/it must support the blessing of same-sex marriages and hold that same-sex sexual activity is no different morally from opposite sex sexual activity. However, this approach to defining “affirming” removes freedom of conscience from the picture altogether. If a person or church must reach a particular moral conclusion on this issue in order to be “affirming” in the truest sense, isn’t this basically saying that those people and churches who offer an authentic hand of friendship to everyone while maintaining a traditional sexual ethic are actually hateful and homophobic? Is this manner of thinking about “affirming” and “non-affirming” suggesting that those with a traditional sexual ethic don’t know how to love? Perhaps refuse to love? Do one’s intellectual capacities for sorting this issue deserve respect only if one reaches a liberal conclusion?

Most of the time, we feel disenfranchised because progress within the marriage equality movement seems to throw couples like us, and arguably LGBT celibate singles as well, under the bus. It’s easy to assume that all LGBT people, even the conservative ones, are eagerly awaiting a future in which every Christian tradition will perform same-sex marriages and everyone will be “free to marry.” But what many people, including several friends of ours, consider “affirming” would actually cause us to feel oppressed within our Christian tradition. One concern that continues to grow for us is that as people with a progressive sexual ethic claim the word “affirming” for themselves, conservative straight Christians may become less and less willing to engage with LGBT Christians at all. It would be a profound loss if straight people with a traditional sexual ethic felt they could no longer extend a hand of friendship to any LGBT person for fear that doing so would inadvertently communicate theological agreement. We’re already seeing this happening. The word “affirm” has two dictionary definitions: 1) State as a fact. Assert strongly and publicly; and 2) Offer someone emotional support or encouragement. As we see it, the world would be a much better place if all of us could focus on the second definition.

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.

Affirming Kids in a Gendered World

Posted on by

A reflection by Lindsey 

The story of Ryland Whittington has been traveling around the world at viral speed. Ryland’s family created a YouTube video to tell a bit more about Ryland’s story. The video highlights two events in Ryland’s life where the family really had to come together: 1) Ryland was diagnosed as deaf, received a cochlear implant, and learned to talk a bit later than most children, and 2) Ryland took to saying “I’m a boy!” almost immediately. The family sought advice from various folks in preparation for permitting Ryland to live as a boy. The video ends with Ryland making a public remark at the 6th Annual Harvey Milk Diversity Breakfast saying, “I’m a transgender kid. I am six. I’m a cool kid. I am the happiest I have ever been in my whole life. Thank you to my parents.”

From where I sit in the world, it’s not incredibly surprising to see Ryland’s story making waves. Facebook has unveiled myriad gender options. Laverne Cox appeared on the cover of Time magazine. Students at Christian and public schools have been suspended until they wore clothes and accessories associated with more traditional cisgender presentations. I’ve heard plenty of people lamenting the degree of “gender confusion” present in the world while others gleefully shout, “Down with the gender binary!” However, I’m more of the opinion that adults frequently forget that children are people who have intrinsic senses of the mystery of gender.

I’ve been absolutely blessed beyond measure by getting to know many kids from birth. My current Christian tradition has greatly facilitated these introductions by welcoming people of all ages to the same service in order to affirm the oneness of the Body of Christ. As I’ve known more and more infants and toddlers, I catch myself thinking frequently, “Wow, what a marvelous little person!” These kids strike me as being full of a personalities uniquely their own. Some parents have told me that they think of their children first and foremost as “children of God who had been entrusted to [their] care.” That idea has really stuck with me. Oftentimes, I think the world gets caught up as viewing children as emerging adults rather than people.

If we posit that children at all life stages are people, then it makes sense that our call when getting to know children is getting to know them first and foremost as people. I’m at that age where lots of my friends are having children, and I find myself particularly in awe of parents who wait a few days after their child is born before settling on the child’s name. I regard naming a child as a sacred duty. If I’ve remembered my own naming story right, my parents had picked out two names for me before I was born and decided to go with Lindsey, a choice much farther down their list, when they met me. (And of course, if I’m remembering my own naming story wrong, I know my mom will correct me on the details.) I’m proud of my name, and I’m grateful for the time my parents took to discern my name. Many parents have shared with me their angst in naming children. I can appreciate that; a name is a big deal. Names are reflective of so many things. Taking time to discern the personality in a child, even before giving a name, can go a long way in helping affirm a child in a gendered world.

Kids have natural ways of expressing themselves. Freedom to explore different hobbies and personal sense of style can go a long way in helping kids become comfortable in their own skin. Will the world come screeching to a halt if a 4-year-old wants a buzz cut, a 10-year-old wants to learn how to solder electronics, a 7-year-old wants long flowing locks, a 6-year-old wears a suit and tie, a 3-year-old brings a doll everywhere, a 12-year-old begs to take babysitting classes, or an 8-year-old wears a dress? We communicate something about the intrinsic value of any of these things when we assert “No, sorry son, but that’s a girl thing.” or “Well, you know you have to because all boys should.”

I’m personally grateful for all of the ways that my family has allowed me to be Lindsey. I rarely experienced any sort of consequences for how my sense of self developed. I could experience great comfort in my own skin, knowing that my family totally supported me shrugging my shoulders and saying “So?” when others confronted me in an effort to use gender to police my activities. However, I am all too aware of how different people have been pigeonholed by the gender police. It seems that the wake of various feminist movements, women have greater latitude in gender expression than men do. It’s not terribly uncommon for gender non-conforming women to carry on without consequence up to a certain point. Nonetheless, the more a person brushes against various social expectations of gender, the more that person risks all forms of violence. Transwomen of color are frequent targets of violence as evidenced by the recent case in Atlanta were two transwomen were assaulted and stripped of their clothing on a public bus.

I think it’s a gross oversimplification to describe gender as a set of social interactions. Gender, in my best estimation, goes deeper. If pressed, I’d say something like the mystery of gender allows our souls to dance. When we love children, we want to see them come alive as their souls dance. Our bodies are the vessels that present our souls to the world. All of our embodied capabilities exist to showcase the dance of the soul. And in this world, all of us encounter difficulty as we try to present our soul to the world while seeing the beauty in another’s soul. My own opinion is that aggressively policing gender is one way to squash the soul of another.

I wonder what life would look like if we tried to peer more deeply into a person’s soul in order to see the image and likeness of God imprinted therein. What would happen if we accepted all children as, first and foremost, children of God? How would we journey alongside children if we wanted to see their souls dance?

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.

Discerning Our Vocation as a Community of Two

Posted on by

Recently, we have encountered some criticism about our way of life in other places of the internet. It has been suggested that our using words like “partner” and “family” indicates we are trying to mimic marriage as opposed to embracing an intentionally celibate vocation. According to these critics, because we frequently use the word “partner” to describe our relationship, we must have lustful desires towards one another and cannot not possibly be living chastely. (If you don’t have any idea what we’re talking about, our post entitled Clearing the Air on “When Celibacy Fails” can direct you a bit more specifically to one of the relevant blogs.)

We do understand how people might be confused about our use of the word “partner” in our relationship. We do describe ourselves as a celibate, LGBT, Christian couple. If you look to the way “partner” is used in the broader culture, you would rarely see the couple who is using that term living into a celibate vocation. We spend a lot of time talking about important conversations we’d like to have on the blog. For several months, we’ve been discussing that we could say more about how our understanding of our vocation has been significantly shaped by monasticism. It seems to us that this latest conversation about the word “partner” provides an excellent launching point for such a conversation.

From the beginning, we have been up front about our acknowledgement that we do not have all the answers. Sarah has shared about some of the difficulty we’ve had in finding a language to describe our shared life. Lindsey frequently says that when it comes to the exact nature of our vocation, we’re building the plane while flying it. Our Christian tradition does not have a well-developed understanding of lay celibacy, so we have tried to learn as much as we can about our vocation from both married couples and monastics. We regard ourselves as works in progress, and we hope that our readers can extend us charity as we sort through some of this muddle.

In Lindsey’s post on Actively Cultivating a Celibate Vocation, Lindsey highlighted the importance of getting to know people who are living celibacy. Even before we met one another, both of us devoted significant energies to meeting various vowed religious. We have read many accounts of monastics, traveled to various monasteries, and journeyed alongside others who have been discerning specific religious vocations that carry the expectation of celibacy.

One of the most important things we’ve noticed about monasteries is that no two monasteries are the same. Each monastery has its unique sense of community that affects how the members see themselves as a monastic family extending hospitality to others. Some monasteries have the capability of hosting a huge number of pilgrims at a time, and other monasteries will welcome a small handful of overnight guests. The guest quarters in the smallest monasteries we’ve visited amount to little more than a spare room in the house. At the risk of overgeneralizing a bit, visiting large monasteries can make one feel like one has entered another world while visiting small monasteries can leave one feeling remarkably impressed by the mundaneness of the everyday. Some of the larger monasteries seem to serve every liturgical service available in well-equipped chapels, while many of the smaller monasteries pray a basic set of morning and evening prayer on either side of the work day. We’ve even had the privilege of visiting monastics who live in urban areas and work full-time during the day in a way that aligns their professional gifts with the mission of the Church.

We hope it comes as no surprise to our readers that we have made a concerted effort to learn from these various small monastic communities about how we might pattern our lives as a community of two. Specifically, we have been drawn to the concept of a skete. Sketes are small monastic communities where two or three celibates live together. Because it’s rarely practical for a community of two or three to be completely self-sustaining, skete monastics frequently interact with more sizable monastic communities or with the world at large in order to support themselves. Skete monastics often choose very particular forms of ministry to do together and may describe themselves as partners in ministry. Like other monasteries, sketes exist because of a bishop’s blessing. Many large monasteries have a skete at their origins. It’s not terribly uncommon to see a small monastic community living as a skete entreating God to give the increase to their humble beginnings.

While we do not see ourselves as establishing an actual skete, we do try to pattern our lives significantly after what we have seen from skete monastics. We see ourselves as working hard to establish a sense of what lay celibacy in the world might look like, particularly when lived together as a pair. Specifically, we have a commitment to being an open book with our spiritual fathers about our life and ministry together. We earnestly desire to live into the fullness of our Christian tradition’s teachings, and we participate regularly in our local parish. Additionally, we regularly pray and discuss our shared ministry as a team of two (some might say “partnership”).

We have been living together for just over a year; it takes time to discern what work we should be giving ourselves to. We want God to guide our steps as we consider a multitude of ministry possibilities. We try to maintain a balanced rhythm in our life together. We have established dinner as a sacred time to share with one another. For example, it works best for us when Lindsey cooks and Sarah handles the after-dinner clean-up. We also try and balance the time we have together with time we spend in larger communities of one kind or another. We view our relationship as being principally oriented outward to serve the world, and we thank God for the ways we’ve found to use our ministry gifts that are unlocked by the presence of the other to love various people we have met.

There are certain monastics that stand out to us as we think about who has taught us about our vocation. Lindsey once stayed with a nun working in a local parish. This nun served as a critical backbone to her community, observing a daily cycle of morning and evening prayer. When she wasn’t in her chapel or attending to local services, she met regularly with students to offer spiritual direction. She carried forward the work she had begun with another nun, even after her partner in ministry was moved by the bishop to another city.

Sarah has never experienced more extravagant hospitality than was showcased by a hospice nurse who attended to Sarah’s grandmother. Sarah’s grandmother had reached the last few weeks of her life. This hospice nun absolutely lit up the room while providing palliative care to Sarah’s grandmother and getting to know everyone in Sarah’s family. Eleven-year-old Sarah had taken to making a fashion statement of wearing mismatched socks. The hospice nurse told the other nursing staff about Sarah’s self-expression and encouraged them to make a special cake in Sarah’s honor: the cake had two different colors of frosting, one on each side, much like Sarah’s socks. The nun made herself emotionally available to everyone in Sarah’s family during this difficult time. Nearly 18 years later, Sarah remembers this nun teaching that whenever a person or family experiences a time of significant distress, there needs to be someone else capable of giving his or her complete self in order to care for those ailing. Although it’s wonderful when people can give a little bit in those situations, the world needs people who can give everything by turning themselves fully outward to care for those who need it.

To be sure, we’re still working on embodying the virtues we see in monastics. A shared rule of prayer is one core attribute of monasticism we want God to open up to us more fully. Because our daily schedules are so variable, we struggle to discern a common prayer rule that we can keep together. Both of us keep individual rules of prayer, we have a disciplined practice of always blessing our food together, and we occasionally share times of spontaneous prayer. Nevertheless, we do hope that God will guide us towards a shared rule of prayer that we can keep together on a daily basis. Additionally, we regard vulnerability and hospitality as defining attributes of a celibate vocation. We frequently perceive ourselves as doing reasonably well in both of these areas, but we know that God still wants us to grow towards increasing vulnerability and hospitality. Lastly, although we believe strongly that God is calling us to a shared form of ministry, we know God is still telling us more about the work we are to do together. We don’t have everything figured out already–not by a long shot.

In conclusion, we are grateful for all of the ways God helps us to discern our vocation as a community of two, revealing to us more over time how he would have us serve the world as team of two and partners in ministry. We have learned so much from monastics, especially those who live in sketes. We are lay celibates living in the world, and as such we do not pretend for an instant that we embody monastic life fully. But we rejoice because each of our failures has given us room to grow towards Christ in ways we had never imagined.

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.