Category Archives: Vocation

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

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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

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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.

Isn’t sex a good thing?

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With some regularity, readers ask us if choosing celibacy means denying one’s sexuality and/or denying the existence of sexuality as a gift from God. About a month ago, one reader provided us with a great deal of information on the evolutionary aspects of sex and sexuality, following that information up with this set of questions: “I ask if [celibacy] is a denial of the gift God gives us in sex. I guess my question to you is, isn’t sex good? Isn’t it one of God’s greatest gifts to us? Aren’t we supposed to be sexual creatures?” After taking a few weeks to ponder how we would approach these questions, we have decided to address them directly today.

We’ll begin by giving the short, simple answer to the titular question of this post: yes. We do believe that sex is good. We believe it is a gift from God, and our Christian tradition influences our understanding of how God intends humans to use this gift. We also see a distinction between “sexual activity” and “sexuality,” and do not believe that absence of the first means avoidance of the second. We see celibacy as a means of living into the gift of sexuality rather than a denial of it. Our celibacy does not exclude us from existing as sexual creatures. We’ve both had enough experience in the past with attempting to deny or change our sexualities that we know how damaging suppression can be.

Concerning the idea that sex is, as our reader suggests, “one of God’s greatest gifts to us,” we would agree with that. Sexual activity enables humans to engage directly with God as co-creators, bringing new life into the world. It also enables couples to deepen their relationships with God by coming to know one another more intimately. That God has provided humans this means of connection with Him and with other humans is truly incredible. As such, we believe it would be foolish to deny that the capacity for sexual activity is one of God’s greatest gifts to humanity. That said, the decision to follow a vocational pathway that does not include sexual activity can provide means of engaging in other amazing gifts from God. One example of this is that celibacy offers the opportunity for connection to the world more generally, unlocking space for cultivating the gifts of intercession and mercy. When we are trying to relate to people who are not “family” connections, we find ourselves stretching to practice compassion. Directing compassion through Christ means prayerfully imaging him to the people we meet. We don’t always succeed in this, but working on it is one of the great challenges and joys of the celibate vocation. People who are married often feel called to take a more family-oriented approach to honing the gifts of intercession and mercy. Similarly, we feel called to engaging with God’s gift of sexuality in ways that do not involve sexual activity.

Another illustration that came to mind as we were discussing these questions is the various senses with which God has gifted humans. Generally, people are able to engage with the world using some combination of sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell, emotion, and so on. Not all humans are able to use all of these gifts, and we don’t have much choice concerning which of these we are and aren’t able to use. Even people who have the ability to communicate using all of the traditionally-named “five senses” tend to gravitate toward some more than others for communicating and making sense of the world. For example, Sarah has color-grapheme synesthesia—an involuntary phenomenon that causes her to see letters, numbers, and certain words in specific colors (i.e. “7” is green, “purpose” is red). Because of this, Sarah uses colors to understand most concepts when reading, writing, doing mathematics, translating from one written language to another, etc. However, this also complicates matters for Sarah’s engagement with the same concepts presented in oral format, so Sarah tends to rely more strongly on sight than any of the other senses. But engagement with one gift does not imply denial that others are good, or that others exist. Sarah’s understanding of things would differ significantly from that of a person who, for whatever reason, relies more consistently on the gift of touch to make sense of the world, but that doesn’t mean either has to deny the other’s experience.

The last question, “Aren’t we supposed to be sexual creatures?” is an important one. We want to be clear that we do see ourselves as sexual creatures even though we have chosen a way of life that does not involve sexual activity. We accept that both of us are attracted exclusively to women. Lindsey has been a strident advocate for celibates taking the approach of integrating rather than excising their sexualities. When one integrates one’s sexuality within the vocation of celibacy, one acknowledges that attraction is a gift from God and appreciates diverse kinds of beauty. Integrating one’s sexuality enables one to live within one’s body, becoming comfortable in one’s own skin. We have learned to celebrate our full humanity. We marvel at how being in relationship with each other has challenged us as individuals to grow in appreciation of our individual bodies while making space for another person to do the same.

We’ve come to believe that yes, sex is a good thing while considering sexuality as a whole to be even more profoundly meaningful. As celibates, we see sexuality as a gift given to people by God, so we can connect with their bodies. People’s sexualities affect how they experience the world. We appreciate many diverse aspects of people’s sexualities and do not seek to deny other people their own experiences.

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.

Actively Cultivating a Celibate Vocation

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A reflection by Lindsey

We’ve made a general practice of not giving advice on this blog. We are keepers of our own story, and we are not interested in telling another person what his or her story should be. Nonetheless, I was struck a few weeks ago when Eve Tushnet said that there was a place in these discussions for people to cry, “This is the path! Follow me!” lest we become an echo chamber. We’ve also had multiple people sending us emails asking us for more guidance on actively trying to cultivate a celibate vocation. I’ve spent nearly a decade trying to sort these questions for myself, have journeyed alongside tens of other people trying to cultivate celibate vocations themselves, and think that I can highlight some practical elements of actively cultivating a celibate vocation. So, in this reflection, I’m going to make a brief trip to how-to land.

Some disclaimers: I’m going to talk about cultivating a celibate vocation in generalities rather than zooming in on the experience of cultivating a celibate partnership. I’ve shared before about my experiences with a failed celibate relationship, and I know other people who have been profoundly hurt by starting their explorations of celibacy in the context of an intimate relationship. While I have spent a lot of time myself trying to cultivate a celibate vocation, I don’t regard myself as an authority at any level.

Get to know people who live a celibate vocation
Finding active models of a celibate life worth living is hard. I spent time hanging out at monasteries and reading memoirs of people who remained single throughout their entire life. One of the most helpful books for me is My Song is Of Mercy by Fr. Matthew Kelty because Fr. Matthew is living out a celibate vocation as a gay man. Fr. Matthew’s sermons include occasional examples from the gay community that show he integrated his sexuality into his life. But getting to know monastics from different communities showed me that there is a lot of variety within the celibate vocation. It’s okay if not every celibate person inspires you with a vision for what your vocation can look like. In many ways, it’s probably better for you if there’s a subset of celibate people you love and admire. I tended to look towards people in religious communities, but many people from different walks of life have lived a celibate vocation. Find a few models that resonate with you and provide a glimpse into the kind of life you’d like to cultivate.

Spend real time with married people
One thing I’ve noticed is that many LGBT people who feel compelled to explore a celibate vocation because of their faith convictions are prone to crafting a utopian vision of marriage. Marriage can become a wished-for, yet completely unattainable, happy place where people are never lonely, social get-togethers are awesome, and God totally pours out blessing after blessing. Yet, spending time with married people I admire showed me that married people and celibate people face many of the same struggles when it comes to finding our places in this world. Additionally, I learned that married people who make the practice of opening their homes to others have this odd gift of making me feel like a part of the family in a very short time. I’ve had the privilege of reading bedtime stories to kids and I’ve experienced why families with kids might try to hightail it out of social engagements before the kids have a meltdown. When you meet real married people, marriage doesn’t look so utopian after all.

Regard the things in which you find great delight as sacred
It can be hard as a celibate person to communicate why a certain action “counts” as intimate and meaningful. Our culture, and even the culture within our churches, has primed us to view sex as the only expression of intimacy worth saving for special people. Yet, each and every one of us has things that we especially enjoy doing, and we want to save particular experiences for sharing with special people. It doesn’t matter if your special things are going to a concert, sharing a meal together, playing board games, going geocaching, geeking out over Latin word roots, or any number of other things. Your special things are still special, they make you the unique human you are, and they are worth sharing with special people in your life. Treasure the unique parts of yourself as sacred. Treat them with care. As you grow closer to particular people, allow them to see more of you. I found that treating my love of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies, my excitability when going to concerts, and my tendency to relish in a good hug with sacred appreciation enabled me to experience significantly more intimacy across a wide range of relationships.

Find a rhythm in your own life that includes prayer and positive self-care
In trying to discern my celibate vocation, I worked with the examples I found in monasteries. Life in a monastery is centered upon communal and individual prayer. When I talked with monastics, they told me they entered the monastery because they felt a vocation to prayer. Yet, a lot of life in the monastery also involved caring for the community. Monastics prepare common meals, take one another to seek medical care when needed, go shopping, and work together to support the monastery. As I got to know monastics, I realized that monastic lives are indeed very human lives. An abbess once shared with me that if I wanted to explore the possibility that I was called to monasticism, I would be served by trying to put monastic life into practice as much as possible in my daily life. I’ve experimented with incorporating different regular devotions into my day and preparing proper meals. These disciplines have shown me that I have in-built settings that need to be acknowledged if I’m going to take care of myself.

Share life meaningfully with others wherever possible
When I started actively trying to cultivate a celibate vocation, I did not have a clue how to share life meaningfully with other people. I had to overcome significant cultural programming that the only “real” meaningful relationship would blossom into a marriage. Since I had to start somewhere, I started by asking God to show me the meaningful relationships present in my life. God showed me that I did have profoundly meaningful relationships already present in my life and that I had the potential to develop meaningful relationships with people I was only just getting to know. In shifting my focus away from cultivating one marital relationship, I was able to see myself in a network of other relationships. As a direct consequence of living this way, I have numerous friends–married and celibate–for whom the word “friend’ fails communicate the depth of intimacy we experience in those relationships.

Practice serving others regularly
Getting out and doing something to help people is a great way to see past the end of your own nose. I also found that being positioned to see others’ needs helped me consider how I could be a blessing to them and how they could bless me. As I began to cultivate a celibate vocation, I drove a one-day shift with Meals on Wheels in a low-income area of my town. Visiting briefly with the clients on my route allowed me to make those tentative spaces of connection. Seeing them week after week, I practiced making friends who were in a very different state of life than I was. It wasn’t a huge obligation, but I found myself missing the regular interaction when I moved abroad for a season. I’ve learned that I’m happiest when I’m giving to others in a consistent way. As time has gone on, I’ve shifted where I’ve invested my energies. Please know that serving others is a balance. Too much serving can lead to frustration that you’re always pouring yourself out and not receiving anything in return. I’ve come to ask myself, “Do I find this act of service meaningful and life-giving or am I doing it out of a fundamental sense of obligation?” The question has helped me find meaningful and life-giving ways to serve others. For folks looking for a number, I’ve found that I do best with 1 regular weekly commitment. I can usually find at least 2 hours in my week to serve others in an intentional way.

As this post was a brief venture into how-to land, I’m sure that your mileage will vary if you were to put these ideas into practice. This list reflects how I actively cultivated a celibate vocation. I’d love to hear from other people who have chosen to cultivate a celibate vocation about what they’re doing.

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.

When vocation doesn’t come naturally

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A reflection by Lindsey

One of the hazards I encounter is that Christians talking about celibacy frequently speak of the gift of celibacy. The gift of celibacy is treated on a level much like the gift of teaching or the gift of administration. If someone says he or she has a spiritual gift of teaching, then we often assume that means he or she is good at teaching. It stands to reason then that people might assume I’m good at celibacy, it comes naturally to me, and I don’t have to work especially hard to cultivate a celibate vocation because I feel called to celibacy. In many people’s eyes, I must have the gift of celibacy coupled with an odd human constitution that allows me to experience a great deal of joy even if I’m not having sex.

We’ve reflected elsewhere on our blog about how we regard the “gift” of celibacy, but what I’d like to do today is to reflect on what happens when one’s vocation doesn’t come naturally. We regard radical hospitality as the first defining virtue of a celibate vocation. But honestly, practicing out that virtue is a tremendous struggle for me. Practicing hospitality can be exceptionally draining the vast majority of the time; and, practicing radical hospitality only ratchets up the demand.

A continual commitment to hospitality is hard for me because I’m an introvert. To make matters even more difficult, social skills are definitely not my forte. Everything I know about relating to other people has been learned through hard fought lessons. So many things that people take for granted in social situations, I’ve had to learn. I have my fair share of embarrassing moments with one crowning example being when our couples therapist asked me in front of Sarah how I might start to get to know someone I’m just meeting. I was beyond clueless, struggling to get past my first tentative reply of, “You ask them their name?” knowing full well that our therapist had slightly more advanced social skills in mind. I have to work hard to muster anything remotely like confidence in social situations, and truth be told, I’d rather curl up and hide in my room most of the time than meet new people. If my friends were to think about the first words they associate with me, hospitality would be virtually absent from the list.

Yet, I regard radical hospitality as a core virtue of my God-given vocation. As such, I’ve made an active choice to try and cultivate hospitality even when it does not come naturally to me in the slightest. I find some refuge in trying to practice a radical hospitality centered on Christ, His Incarnation, and His example, but I certainly am not pretending for an instant that I have it all sorted.

When I’m practicing radical hospitality, I try to leverage my personality as an introvert as much as possible. I’d rather focus on building rich, meaningful, and deep relationships with a few people as opposed to perfecting the gentility associated with being an ideal host, a social butterfly, and a person who can attend to the most minute aspects of social cues. If radical hospitality necessarily had to involve the latter, I might as well be trying to sail a ship from a completely landlocked country. Instead, I work with what I have: my natural tendency towards generosity, my complete appreciation for the realness of human experiences, and my almost canine sense of loyalty. I live as simply as possible to try and always have a little bit more I can give to another (even if that gift is as immaterial as a smile and a kind word to the person collecting my toll money). I’ve worked through a lot of my own issues associated with trying to be human in this fallen world, so I can appreciate the authentic spiritual journeys of others. And I’m always looking at building my list of friends rather than transitioning away from friends after a season of closeness. The more vulnerable a person has chosen to be with me, the much more likely I am going to be his or her friend in a decade’s time.

I do not have a gift for small talk, and equally, I have zero interest in seeing how small talk could ever be a gift that I should work towards cultivating. Instead I spend a lot of time asking God to show me which people I should try to get to know better. I look for opportunities to be around the same group of people over time to give myself time (and space) to figuring out how to practice hospitality as best as I know how. I’ve been incredibly surprised that God keeps putting people in my path in a meaningful way, but I know that it’s not for an instant a relational network of my own building.

There’s a certain gift in not being interested in small talk. I look for places to hang out where it’s much more likely that people are engaging in deep talk. As such, I’ve seen that virtually every human being is staring bravely into the face of some very hard battles. Being present as people share what assails or ails them, I find myself frequently moved into prayer and encouragement. Encouragement unlocks my own excitabilities in such a way that some people don’t even realize I’m an introvert because I could play an extrovert so convincingly on television. But more to the point, in trying to get to know people in their hidden-away spaces, I increasingly feel the spark of prayer rise up in my heart as I try to present their concerns to Christ.

I don’t know where I’d be without trying to cultivate a celibate vocation. It’s the demand my vocation places on me to be radically hospitable that has pulled me out of my own shell and into a rich network of relationships with others. It’s been my natural cluelessness about how other people establish friendships that has led me to ask God for help. It’s been my desire for guidance that has spurred me to seek out men and women living celibate lives to ask them how they pray for the needs of the entire world even if they live intentionally detached from the world. It’s been my own battles with social anxiety and depression that have shown me that none of us have life as figured out as we think… and that many people are open to receiving an authentic dose of encouragement from a generous heart along the way.

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.