Category Archives: Vocation

How to Live a Life of Celibacy While Missing the Point of Vocation

Posted on by

Here at A Queer Calling, one of our main purposes is to help people establish a positive vision of celibacy as a vocation. However, our efforts do not organically change what is out there on the rest of the internet. A reader recently sent us a link to How to Live a Life of Celibacy, a wikiHow article with 38 contributors as of 20 May 2014. This link is the top hit if one googles “how to live a life of celibacy,” and it contains 20 tips/steps that are absolutely loaded with assumptions about what a celibate life entails. We earnestly wonder if any of the 38 authors have any lived experience with celibacy and are curious to know if they are trying to apply lessons they have learned while abstaining temporarily from sexual activity to living a life of committed celibacy. We’re going to quote each of these 20 steps and share our responses, snark and all, to this article’s assumptions.

1. Make sure this is something that you are very serious about. It can be a great thing if you are doing it for the right reasons.

So far, so good. We agree entirely. Celibacy is a life marked by a commitment. It’s helpful to know why you are committing to a celibate vocation, and to develop a positive sense of what celibacy can mean for your life. We’d even go so far to say that if you’re committing to living celibately because your spiritual director has told you that failing to live a celibate life will send you straight to hell, it’s best to challenge the celibacy mandate.

2. Find a friend or mentor that has gone through this period in life and ask questions about his or her reason for making their choice.

Again, this counsel is extremely helpful. Lindsey has highlighted the importance of finding people living a celibate vocation in a post, Actively Cultivating a Celibate Vocation.

3. Avoid listening to others’ feelings about your decision, if they do not agree with yours. It is your choice, and yours alone. Instead, talk to friends and people who will not judge you, or this choice you have made.

Generally, sound advice. When someone makes a committed decision on any matter that other people might not understand, he or she has to choose whose counsel to embrace. This counsel is not uniquely tied to cultivating a celibate vocation. Indeed, it is often helpful to hear out close friends when discerning any vocation because they can often see into one’s blind spots. Friends can be great barometers in helping a person discern a vibrant, life-giving, and connected celibate vocation.

The rest of this article offers what is arguably some of the worst counsel that we’ve heard when it comes to cultivating celibate vocations. So, for the rest of our post…snark alert!

4. Get involved involved in different hobbies; better not to be around many people you may be sexually attracted to for a while if this can be avoided. You could become involved with some more spiritual or personal activities instead.

If someone makes you dizzy with attractions, the obvious solution is just stay extra busy. Why not? Avoidance works for all of life’s challenges, right? According to this article, It’s possible to run, run, run, run, and still do more running, fear all kinds of relationships, and embrace a white-knuckled disconnection and aloofness that can suck the life force out of even the most introverted people, yet still discover a sustainable manner of living. Really, wikiHow?

5. Try to find people who you think will understand you and your choices. Doing this alone can be very challenging. Tell them you need some moral support.

A moment of seriousness: we agree that living a celibate vocation can be hard. (Living a marital vocation is hard as well.) We do our best to foster a community space where people interested in celibacy can find support because we have benefited significantly from the friend support we have received. It can be helpful to reach out to friends and mutually discuss the discernment process often. All Christians should be in the process of regularly seeking God to discern direction for their lives.

6. Avoid temptation, especially at the start of this lifestyle. Do not put yourself in situations that might lead to sexual activity, such as close quarters with someone to whom you are sexually attracted. Don’t spend time alone and secluded together unless you absolutely know that you can control yourself in that situation. You can still be intimate and close with them, as long as you are in control. (it also helps for them to know of your statutes with this lifestyle)

Surely, every celibate person is likely to crave sexual encounters and reach out for them whenever any opportunities arise. Uh huh. *Eyeroll.* We’ve seen the counsel contained in Tip #6 mirrored in spiritual direction when the spiritual director cautions an LGBT person about the slippery slope towards illicit activities. To be sure, if a person is committing to celibacy after extensive sexual involvement, it might do that individual well to consider what habits might need to change. However, that’s a different kind of message than simply, “Control thyself.”

7. It is a fact that after a certain amount of time, that if you do not remind yourself of what you are missing sexually, you will stop feeling strong urges. However, this can be hard if you are regularly engaging in watching social entertainment like movies, TV shows, and many advertisements and commercials that continually show hormonally and/or sexually led relationships. Learn to ignore these; they are society’s standards, not yours.

So, a celibate person should hide himself or herself in a hole because we live in a sex-saturated culture. Sexuality is merely an appetite that can be starved into submission…except, it’s not. In truth, human sexuality brings us into all sorts of different relationships with others and colors how we perceive the world around us. There is beauty and connection in so many places. It is right to say that world does not typically have a positive view of vocation, especially when vocation calls us towards sacrificial love. Both celibate and marital vocations call people towards this sacrificial love, even if this love manifests in slightly different ways.

8. For the most part, continue to keep anything about sexual romance or hormone induced relationships away from your vision. Make a list of all you have wanted to do. You do not have a mate holding you back, so take that trip or write that novel.

Let’s merge the “Hide in a hole” strategy from Tip #7 with the “Keep extra busy” strategy from Tip #4. Honestly, how does labeling the romantic attachments of others as “hormone induced relationships” do anything for cultivating deep and meaningful non-sexual relationships with people? Positioning yourself as Superman focused on building your resume will only bring you so far before you absolutely, positively, completely hit burnout. And when your human frailty catches up to you, you’re likely to find no one around you because they got tired of your always looking down on them and their ways of life. “Tip” #8 is, universally, a bad idea.

9. Doing things alone will help you to grow and challenge yourself on why you wanted to be celibate in the first place. Self empowerment is a powerful thing when used humbly.

Because celibacy necessarily means relegating oneself to the life of a hermit. Somehow, not having sex and discerning a way of life as an unmarried person means doing many things, or everything, alone. It seems the contributor of Tip #9 was thinking more along the lines of “how to accept the realities of being lonely” than “how to live a life of celibacy.” And, “Self-empowerment is a powerful thing when used humbly.” What’s that supposed to mean? Empower yourself, but only do it in a humble way?

10. If religion is part of your decision to be celibate, read the Bible or other religious book for guidance and strength. Turn to your Priest or religious community in times of weakness and need.

Uhm…if a person has decided to become celibate for religious reasons, it seems likely that he or she is already reading his or her holy text for guidance and strength in addition to receiving some sort of guidance (helpful or not) from a religious leader or member of a faith community. This isn’t bad advice, but it’s basically the same as telling a student, “If passing the course is part of your decision to take it, study the textbook and meet with the professor in times of confusion.” Is it really so difficult to figure this one out?

11. Celibacy can be practiced in a relationship, if both are in agreement.

We agree with this one. No sarcasm here. However, living celibacy within the context of a partnered relationship is not as simple as Tip #11 makes it sound. Trying to develop a sense of celibate vocation as a couple takes much more than “agreement.” Sometimes, both partners can be in agreement about celibacy and the relationship can still fail. Even if the relationship is working out well for both partners, certain aspects of a celibate vocation might not come naturally. Being committed to a celibate partnership takes dedication, tenacity, and willingness to work out the difficult parts as they arise.

12. You can then both be each other’s strength, and learn something together such as an instrument which will keep the mind busy.

Seems we cut the sarcasm a bit too soon. Of course, this is what our life together as a celibate couple looks like. We spend every day finding new, random hobbies to practice together and mutually increasing our strength to avoid letting our minds and hands wander in the direction of each other’s genitals. Piano and tambourine all the way! *Massive eye roll.* We have to ask, if a celibate partnership is supposed to be so focused on “keeping the mind busy” and presumably distracting each other from having sex with each other, what is the purpose of living in such an arrangement? If it’s all about avoiding temptation, wouldn’t it be easier not to have a partner? The suggestion that celibate partnership is valuable because it can keep both people’s minds out of the gutter is absolutely ludicrous.

13. The joy of learning and focusing more into engaging in other activities of life will help you to occupy your mind. It will also tire you out and make you sleep well.

Because a celibate vocation is all about distracting oneself from anything and everything that could possibly lead to sex. And by the way, sexually active people don’t experience the joy of learning and have the worst cases of insomnia. Had no idea. Next, please…

14. Celibacy is said to be a great way to improve mental powers and concentration.

Maybe if we commit to celibacy for the rest of our lives and do it the “right” way according to this article, one day we’ll wake up with telekinetic powers like Matilda.  Or better yet, we’ll discover our hidden abilities at levitating feathers, speaking parseltongue, and blowing up our annoying relatives. We’ve been celibate for a good while now…where are our Hogwarts letters?

15. Celibacy allows a romantic relationship to grow and develop tenderness, maturity, and self-giving. True love takes a long time, and staying away from sex makes a relationship more stable, not less. A man is impressed by a woman’s sweet and gentle “No,” if he has pushed her. It increases his respect and trust in her. It makes him want to be a better man, even if he’s been a player in the past. The delightful erotic tension is the beginning of legendary love stories that make for good marriages.

Wait a minute…is this article on the topic of “how to live a life of celibacy,” or is it more about, “why it’s better to be sexually abstinent until marriage”? Seems counterproductive to be talking about the value of erotic tension and preparing for an eventual marriage if the whole point of this piece is to advise folks on living lives of celibacy.

16. Understand why you want to take this vow before you do so. There are many reasons why people take this vow. The most common is to avoid sexually transmitted diseases, and to engage in intense studies as celibacy frees an enormous amount of time from your schedule. It will save you some money too, especially on a student budget.

Yep. Every day, we hear the stories of vowed celibates proclaiming, “Now I don’t have to get those embarrassing STD tests anymore, and I’m smarter and richer to boot. Celibacy is the best thing since sliced bread!” Not so much.

17. Meditate on this decision and do not be rash about it. This is a lifelong commitment you are about to make.

<Temporary snark break> Great advice, Tip #17. By the way, this applies to a marriage commitment as well.

18. Be sure to tell everyone around you that you are taking a vow of celibacy. It is very important to tell those who are closest to you about your decision and convince them to support you every step of the way.

And we’re back. This is exactly what we want to do. Shout it from the rooftops: “We aren’t having sex! If you don’t support us, you really should!” Such an approach is sure to go a long way with making us more welcome among people in our Christian tradition who remain skeptical of our partnership.

19. Avoid temptation and concentrate on other important things. To keep up the commitment, go back to school, get a new hobby, or buy a pet. Keep yourself as busy as possible.

In case the main message of this article isn’t clear enough already, we’ll spell it out for you once again: the only way to remain celibate is to busy yourself to the point of exhaustion so you’ll not be at risk for dropping your pants every five seconds. Groan.

20. Always reassess your vows every four to six months to make sure that you want to continue to do this. If you have decided that you do not want to live this lifestyle anymore, go ahead and do what you desire.

Because vows aren’t real commitments, and most human beings are unable to live a particular vocation from more than four to six months. Why don’t we start offering the same advice to married couples? Let’s not try to encourage people to work out their salvation within their chosen vocations. Why not give up on celibacy at the first bump along the road? Heck, why not tell married people they should consider abandoning their spouses after the first significant conflicts of their married lives? It’s all about “what I want in the moment” anyway, right?

To find so many misconceptions about celibacy packed into a list of 20 tips/steps for living a celibate life strikes us as absurd, especially when said tip list is the very first hit when a person searches for “how to live a life of celibacy.” Presumably, this article was written because so many people were using this particular search term. (Sarah has some insight into this as Sarah once worked as a freelance content writer for similar sources–not wikiHow.) The likelihood that every person who takes to the internet to begin researching celibacy as a way of life for himself or herself sees this article first is disturbing and saddening.

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.

Green Leaves, Red Flames, and Glimpses of Vocation

Posted on by

A reflection by Sarah

One of the many lessons I keep repeating is that God often uses unpredictable means to get my attention. This was especially true during a season of my life when I was feeling strongly pulled towards a celibate vocation but knew I wasn’t going to be able to live it at that time. As I’ve written before, I’m glad I waited to commit fully to a celibate vocation because being ready for this way of life takes time. I wanted to be reasonably sure that God was in fact calling me to celibacy before completely embracing some form of celibate life as my vocation. At the time of this story, I thought I was crazy for even contemplating celibacy, as I was in a non-celibate relationship with a woman I’ve chosen to call Leah.

One summer while on retreat, I sat at the dinner table nearly every evening with a priest who seemed to understand my uncertainty intuitively. Frequently, I asked him questions about how he understood the role of celibacy in his vocation to the priesthood, if he experienced loneliness, and if he had any regrets about forgoing marriage. This priest could tell that I wasn’t casually exploring monastic life with no real intention of committing to a celibate vocation of some kind. Though I never shared anything with him about my sexual orientation or relationship, I believe that he could actually tell I had a sense of where God was leading me, and was trying to figure out how to get there despite doubts about meeting my need for human companionship along the way. One evening after our meal, he pulled me aside and drew something from his satchel: an icon of the Mother of God the Unburnt Bush, though I did not yet know this name for it. Then he said to me, “I’m leaving tomorrow to go back home to my parish, and I feel very strongly that the Mother of God would like you to have this icon.”

Icon of the Mother of God the Unburnt Bush

I was totally surprised, completely flattered, and taken aback. The icon was absolutely beautiful. What could have inspired this priest to leave me—adrift and pitifully clueless—with such an amazing gift? I’m not sure anything else in the world could have spoken to me in that moment as this icon did. Throughout my life, one of the ways I’ve felt God’s presence most strongly has been via my perceptions of color. The Mother of God the Unburnt Bush icon remains to this day one of the most colorful I’ve ever encountered. Even more captivating than most I’ve seen, it is packed full of action, containing a multiplicity of stories on a mere 9” by 12” wooden panel. Simultaneously blown away and honored, I asked if he could tell me more about the meaning behind different images within the icon. He responded by directing me to take the icon back to my bedroom and let the Mother of God teach me about it herself. In time, the icon would tell me the fullness of its own story. I received the gift with gratitude and carried it away.

As I sat on my bed staring down at the image, the first sight that caught my eye was the Mother of God, surrounded by green leaves and red flames. I realized that this icon was a representation of Moses and the Unburnt Bush from The Book of Exodus. I recalled that Exodus describes the bush as burning, yet unconsumed. Gears turned in my head, and it clicked that the Unburnt Bush was a prefiguring of the Mother of God in the paradox of her virgin motherhood. At that time, I found myself focused on the primary images of the icon rather than those in the background. I noticed Moses, removing his sandals, kneeling below the Mother of God as she holds her infant Son. As I contemplated the three central figures in this icon, I felt inspired and convicted that saying yes to God’s call would not always be easy. Sometimes doing what God asks is incredibly hard and involves saying, “I’m committed,” even when that means arduous tasks and frightening possibilities. I thought about how Moses stood before the Unburnt Bush in preparation for leading the Israelites out of Egypt. Perhaps I was beginning my own period of preparation for what God would have me do even if I wasn’t able to do it yet at that point. I also thought about how two celibates are central images in the icon: the Mother of God and Jesus himself. As I gazed into the eyes of the Mother of God and of Jesus in the icon, I caught the first glimmer of hope that perhaps a celibate life could be worthwhile and fulfilling even if those qualities seemed fleeting and out of reach at the time. Surprisingly, I also felt an overwhelming sense of peace even though life seemed uncertain and my questions of vocation were far from settled. In that moment, God reached into my heart and assured me that things were in process, and I was in process.

Over the past four years, that icon has been a source of strength for me almost daily. Within that span of time, I’ve experienced beginnings and endings of relationships, a move halfway across the country, a reevaluation of my own sexual ethic, and the beginning of my celibate partnership with Lindsey. The Mother of God the Unburnt Bush icon currently hangs in Lindsey’s and my living room, alongside many other images that are spiritually significant for both of us. Sometimes when I walk by this image, I catch the eyes of the Mother of God for a moment, and I get a reminder that she’s here praying for me and helping me to find strength at times when the demands of a lay celibate vocation are at their greatest.

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 Celibacy Fails

Posted on by

Since the first week we began sharing our story as a celibate couple, numerous readers have extended us the privilege of listening to their own stories. We’ve heard from celibate and non-celibate LGBTs as well as straight people. Folks questioning their sexual orientations and gender identities have also written to us. Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, and atheists have dropped us a line to express interest in the specific way we address LGBT Christian topics. One common topic request we’ve received from at least someone in each of these groups has been: how would you suggest that Christian traditions respond to LGBT people who have given their all to celibacy only to see it fail them?

This is one of the most challenging questions facing churches today as they grapple with how to welcome LGBT members as full participants in the Body of Christ while also remaining faithful to the Christian tradition. Before going any farther in this post, we’ll confess to you that we do not know the best and fullest answer to this question. Perhaps no Christian does. Perhaps only God does. We struggle with this issue, and we consider that a good thing. And we will go so far as to suggest that if you’re a Christian and aren’t finding this question difficult, you should be.

To explore this issue more deeply, it would be beneficial for Christians and Christian traditions as a whole to consider first another question: are we imposing sexual abstinence as an unfunded mandate with dire consequences for LGBT people who do not succeed? Especially as more people are coming to awareness of their sexual orientations and gender identities at younger ages, it is irresponsible and cruel for churches to repeat, “You can’t have sex!” and refuse to offer any additional support. In Matthew 23:4, Jesus admonishes his disciples and the multitude not to do as the scribes and Pharisees: “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear,and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them.” This is exactly what many of today’s priests and pastors are doing: they attempt to force celibacy on the fifteen-year-old boy who has just realized that he might be gay, telling him that failing to be celibate will make him unwelcome at services and offering no counsel besides, “Choose to develop heterosexual desires. Don’t have close relationships with other boys. Until you’re starting to think about marriage, don’t have close relationships with girls either.”

In the eyes of many young people, the only two options in this situation are 1) force yourself to be sexually abstinent with no sense of future vocation or present support, or 2) don’t force yourself into a permanent state of abstinence, but simultaneously risk being excommunicated, barred from entering the church building, and/or kicked out of your parents’ house. It shouldn’t be surprising that with no other alternatives, numerous young LGBT Christians find themselves crushed by the pressure from priests, pastors, parents, and faith communities. Collectively, we’ve heard this type of story from hundreds of people, including friends we’ve known since long before our blogging adventure began. It’s not rare, and all Christian traditions imposing unfunded celibacy mandates should be shamed by its prevalence.

If you’re reading this as a straight Christian, think about your own experience of beginning to realize your sexuality at 13, 15, 18…whenever that was for you. How has your experience of your sexuality developed over time? How have you grown in your understanding of sexuality? How would you have felt if at that age, the only guidance the leader of your faith community had for you was, “You’re going to be celibate for life. You have to be. That’s what the Bible says. End of discussion”? We’re not anticipating that every straight person would have the same responses to these questions. Likewise, no two LGBT people have the exact same responses to discussions of sexuality and celibacy.

It is not fair to assume that all LGBT Christians who are genuinely committed to Christ and the Church will respond positively to the demands of a celibate vocation. A reality that many Christians have trouble reconciling is that not all LGBT celibates experience this way of life as emotionally and physically bearable, let alone joyous. However, there are people who remain just as dedicated to living celibacy no matter what pain it brings. When we share our perception of the celibate life as a blessing and a gift, that is our story—not a normative expectation that can be applied to all LGBT celibates. The not-having-sex part of a celibate vocation is more challenging for some than it is for others, and no, we don’t have a catchall answer as to why that is. For the purposes of this post, that question might not even be relevant. Nonetheless, we know that for some of our friends who have chosen to pursue celibacy, remaining sexually abstinent is an enormous burden. At times, it becomes impossible to bear.

Just as we’ve heard stories of folks who have known and delighted in the realization that God has been calling them to celibacy since age 7, we’ve also listened to painful cries of, “I’ve failed again, and I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of this day.” We’ve also experienced our own failures at living fully into celibate vocations. In the recent past, we discussed the fragility of vocation—that all vocations are challenging and must be nurtured in order to succeed. An experience of failure does not mean that one has completely failed at a celibate vocation. Churches that expect celibacy of their LGBT members would do well to recognize that, and to acknowledge the variety of ways celibates experience celibacy—even if it means discovering that straight Christians don’t fully understand what they’re asking of their LGBT brothers and sisters.

There are experiences of celibacy that it seems few people in conservative churches are willing to consider without immediately trying to diagnose. These stories lie at the heart of our question for today: what about people who have made every possible effort to live celibacy and have become emotionally, spiritually, even physically unable to continue? Straight Christians (and even some celibate LGBT Christians) can be quick to assume that something must be wrong with a person who has lived this experience. People begin to make guesses about what went awry: did she lose her faith? Was she slacking in her prayer and fasting disciplines? Did she let herself become envious of other people in sexually active relationships? She couldn’t have been living celibacy correctly if this happened. These speculations show a lack of empathy and a general lack of Christian charity. When a person becomes unable to continue in celibacy during a certain season of life, that doesn’t mean the vocation of celibacy has failed the person, but also doesn’t necessarily mean the person “did celibacy wrong.” One could make a comparison here with situations in which marriages fall apart. Divorce is never an ideal outcome of the vocation of marriage, but because we live in a fallen world it is sometimes necessary. Still, that doesn’t mean the person whose marriage failed because of his wife’s infidelity and inability to acknowledge her own sin “did marriage wrong.”

Until churches begin to acknowledge that the issue of celibacy is not as simple as “Don’t have sex, or else…” LGBT Christians will continue to suffer needlessly, and as a result the entire Body of Christ will suffer. As a Church, we need to be more open to holding these difficult conversations and stop passing down unfunded mandates with potential consequences that leave honest, humble, faithful (though often scrupulous) people terrified to darken the doorways on Sunday morning. Would it be at all possible for conservative churches to make some accommodation for people who, after hundreds of attempts, have been unable to live celibate vocations? Would it serve the state of a person’s soul to be in one committed, sexually active relationship for a lifetime if the only realistic alternative would be falling to the temptation of a hookup once a month while earnestly trying to live celibacy? Does a traditional sexual ethic leave any space for the possibility that not everyone pursuing celibacy feels called to it, or that sometimes vocations fail even when people do everything possible to nurture them? We don’t pretend to know the answers to these questions. But back to the more general query at the beginning of this post: how would we suggest that Christian traditions respond to LGBT people who have given their all to celibacy only to see it fail them? The only answer we know to give is: respond with a heart full of compassion.

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.

4 Reasons We Abstain from the “Is Gay Sex a Sin?” Debate

Posted on by

Within the few days before officially launching A Queer Calling in January 2014, we had many impassioned conversations about our vision for this writing project. We started writing in the first place because after we led a workshop titled “Celibacy Involves Family” at the annual Gay Christian Network Conference, several attendees approached us to inquire more about celibacy, celibate partnership, and ways we see ourselves growing in love for Christ through the joys and challenges of doing life together. These folks, some who have known and supported us for years and others who quickly became new friends, were the inspiration for our blog. Our initial concept, which we have generally maintained, was to post regular reflections on topics relevant to celibates, people interested in celibacy, and the more general conversation about Christianity and the LGBT community. We both have strong personalities and enjoy vigorous discussion, so we haven’t always agreed on how to approach certain topics. But one area where the two of us have always agreed heartily is our commitment to abstain from what many know as the Side A vs. Side B debate. If you don’t know what those terms mean, read this before continuing with our post for today.

As a result of our decision not to participate in discussions of, “Is same-sex sexual activity sinful?” and “Does God bless sexually active same-sex relationships?” we’ve been met with cynicism from people across the moral spectrum on these issues. On a typical day of blogging, we hear from “Side A” folks concerned that we’re trying to lure sexually active LGBT people into celibacy through false pretenses and from “Side B” folks ready to tell us that our contribution to this discussion means nothing unless we decide to start making pronouncements about the sinfulness of gay sex. Those remarks notwithstanding, we remain committed as ever to the original purpose of A Queer Calling, and we sense now more strongly than ever before the need for a space to discuss LGBT celibacy outside the Side A vs. Side B dichotomy.

As we’ve written in other posts such as this one, this one, and this one, both of us came to celibacy because we felt the Holy Spirit pulling us toward celibate vocations. Before meeting each other, we explored monastic life and we both felt deeply convicted that God was calling us to live our vocations within the secular world. Though we belong to a Christian tradition that teaches a conservative sexual ethic and do our best to allow ourselves to be formed in the wisdom of the Church, neither of us decided to pursue celibacy because of a desire to avoid sin. More often than not, telling people this leaves them scratching their heads. We get follow-up questions like, “Does that mean you don’t think same-sex sexual activity is a sin? Isn’t that against the teachings of your church? Why in the world did you choose celibacy if that choice wasn’t motivated by fear of falling into sin?” We’ve also been told by straight Christians within our own faith tradition and other members of the celibate LGBT community that we would find more support for our relationship and our writing project if we would simply make a habit of affirming the rightness of a traditional sexual ethic (and consequently, the wrongness of a progressive sexual ethic). Some have been especially forceful in advising us to point each piece of writing we do back to the central theme of “gay sex is a sin, and celibacy is better,” pointing out that otherwise, conservative Christians might not listen to us as all. They’re probably right about these things. It’s likely we would find more of an audience if we started writing apologetics for our tradition’s teachings instead of reflections on our personal experiences of celibacy and being LGBT in the Church. So why don’t we do that? There are many reasons, but today we’ll open discussion on these four:

1. Christian traditions with teachings on sexual morality generally make those teachings clear. Additionally, other LGBT celibates have already written apologetics for their traditions’ teachings on sexual morality. There’s no gaping hole to be filled here. It’s no secret what conservative denominations teach about gay sex. One need only perform a Google search for “Christianity and LGBT people” to see this. We’ve yet to come across a person who is truly confused about what a given Christian tradition teaches on sexual morality, unless the tradition in question is experiencing a theological change in its previous position. We believe that continually reiterating what our own Christian tradition teaches on these matters (especially because we have chosen not to reveal what our tradition is) would add nothing new or edifying to the discussion of LGBT Christians and our inclusion within the Church. Even before we both converted to our current Christian tradition, we were well aware of its teachings on human sexuality. No one had to tell us. Yet to this day, we experience reminders being shoved down our throats at every turn. We find this not only unhelpful, but also presumptive and alienating. On our blog, we want to foster an atmosphere of radical hospitality. If we feel muzzled and condescended to when other people continuously remind us of their Christian traditions’ already obvious teachings on human sexuality, we have no excuse for doing the same thing to our readers.

2. Limiting discussions of LGBT celibacy to “gay sex is a sin” misses an opportunity for perfect love to cast out fear. When a person focuses solely on avoiding sin, it seems natural that he or she would experience significant worry and fear. A person who focuses on sin as the primary reason for pursuing celibacy might become so terrified of the possibility of committing sin that he or she ceases to delight in many of life’s experiences—every moment of connection with another person is seen as a liability because within in moments it could turn into an occasion of sin. He or she might also begin to focus on people-pleasing: what others perceive as scandalous can reach paramount importance within the person’s life, even if those “scandalous” things are truly innocent and there’s no clear reason why others should point fingers. None of this is purely hypothetical. What we’ve just described has happened to other LGBT people we’ve known, and is very common for some LGBT celibates. Avoidance of sin is an important part of the Christian life, and we would never deny that. We’re not saying that discussions of sin are bad. But when an extreme focus on sin prevents a person from being able to recognize God’s love and exist in healthy relationships with other human beings, it’s a serious problem. A commitment to celibacy does not have to be fear-based, and we believe it’s most sustainable when not rooted in fear. 1 John 4:18 tells us, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.” Here at A Queer Calling, we desire to create space for discussing how celibacy as a vocation can be an expression of love for God and openness to experiencing God’s love.

3. By focusing on the practical rather than apologetics and doctrines, we can meet people where they are and have conversations about real life. We can also learn from others as they meet us where we are. The way sexuality is often discussed in conservative churches has left innumerable LGBT Christians feeling as though they have no choice but to remain silent or leave the Church altogether. It’s not simply that “people don’t like to hear the truth about how sinful they are,” as has been suggested to us many times. In our experience, conservative churches in general do not make any attempt to meet LGBT parishioners where we’re at in life and provide spiritual direction from there. The sum total of guidance offered by these churches is usually, “If you’re gay, you can’t have sex. It’s a sin. Our denomination can never support same-sex sexual activity.” Some denominations still promote ex-gay ideologies. When an LGBT person chooses to remain in such a Christian tradition and pursue celibacy, he or she will likely experience social and spiritual consequences upon falling short of sexual abstinence. LGBT Christians already face far too many expectations of perfection with minimal room for forgiveness. We believe it would benefit both the LGBT community and the Church as a whole if straight Christians would make a better effort to meet LGBT people where we are and learn about the ways we experience life. This isn’t the same as saying, “We have no doctrine and anything you want to do is okay.” Rather than providing doctrinal reminders ad nauseum, we think a more helpful approach is to ask questions to understand people’s individual needs, challenges, fears, strengths, etc. Therefore, on our blog we also want to meet people where they are, and we hope our readers can do the same for us.

4. Shifting the conversation from “sin” to “vocation” creates space for discussing all vocations. We believe that every person has the capacity to love and glorify God through his or her vocation. We also believe that all of us fall short in our chosen vocations. There is much to be gained from engaging in broader conversation about this issue rather than limiting discussions of LGBT celibacy to, “Gay sex is a sin.” Both marriage and celibate vocations are ultimately about manifesting the kingdom of God. With that in common, all Christians can learn from each other’s successes and failures because we all have the same primary calling: to show others the good news of Christ. If we were to focus the conversation entirely on what is or is not sinful behavior for LGBT people, we would be promoting naval-gazing in the extreme. We would be placing a stumbling block for people who are trying to develop a sustainable manner of celibate living. On our blog, we have chosen to discuss celibacy as a vocation because we see it as intricately connected to other Christian vocations in God’s plan of salvation for humanity. It is our intent and purpose to make room for all interested folks to share/inquire openly about celibacy’s joys, sorrows, blessings, and challenges. We do not see how our entering the “Is gay sex a sin?’ debate would contribute anything to that goal.

Having said all this, we would like to close today’s post by clarifying that we do see the Side A and Side B discussion as important. In the past, the two of us benefited from engaging with arguments on both sides. We do not want to suggest that other LGBT celibates who write about sexual sin would be better served by avoiding this topic altogether. But as for our own writing project, we believe that God has called us to hold a different kind of conversation. The Internet (and the Church) has plenty of room for both.

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.

Stumbling towards Celibacy

Posted on by

A reflection by Lindsey

We’ve been talking a good bit here about how celibacy is a mature adult vocation. One needs to enter into celibacy rather than waiting for it to appear like magic. I’d go so far as to say that it helps when there’s a decided choice — a distinct, discrete moment of decision — to become a celibate. However, this past weekend I realized that particular frame is a bit too easy. It’s too neat, it’s too packaged, and it’s honestly a bit sterile. I’ve found my own celibate vocation by stumbling in the darkness, taking on a metric ton of risks along the way, and hoping that someday soon the broader Christian church would wise up in how it supports lay people discern celibate ways of life.

My journey towards celibacy is strange. I began it in the context of a romantic relationship. Neither one of us had a strong framework for what it meant to be celibate. We spent our time trying to draw good boundaries that were simultaneously appropriate for a dating relationship and effective at helping us avoid encountering undue sexual temptation. As I have reflected upon elsewhere, the practice of drawing boundaries to separate “right” from “wrong” wound up pulling the two of us apart. After that particular relationship ended, I started being more intentional about exploring a celibate vocation.

I’ve always had a bit of monastic envy. I remember being a little kid vaguely enthralled by the nuns who worked at the local Catholic school. Who were these teachers? And how did they managed to be so noticed in the community that people from other schools knew their names? Why did they seem so exotic? After my relationship had ended, I remember feeling the whole gamut of emotions as my spiritual directors encouraged me to start visiting monasteries. Every interaction I’ve had with monastics since has been truly inspiring. There’s something about the simple “monk food” that provides sustenance in a monastery that transcends the basic nutritional offerings of the plate. However, no matter how many communities I visited, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t likely to spend my life living in a monastery.

At one point approximately four years ago, I found myself thinking about vocation alone in my apartment. I was absolutely confident that I wanted to live a celibate way of life, equally convinced that I had no clue what exactly living a celibate life entailed, and reasonably sure my local church family wasn’t going to be a good place to help me learn about growing into a celibate vocation. I did the only thing I knew: I told God about my intentions and sought help from the Holy Spirit.

I received some helpful counsel from one abbess when I inquired about exploring a celibate vocation. She told me something to the effect of, “Whatever you see the nuns doing, do your best to live it out in your immediate context. Put into practice whatever bits of the monastic life as you can.” (I promise, she was much more eloquent than I’m remembering.) I did my best to adopt a pattern of prayer while also trying to connect meaningfully to the people around me. Getting to know monastics showed me that we’re not supposed to live our lives completely detached from other people.

In my stumbling towards celibacy, I refused to prohibit myself from exploring the full array of human relationships. I consider it slightly odd that I’ve been in more romantic/dating relationships after I had told God I wanted help in finding a celibate vocation. Sometimes I think I turned over some strange possibilities. I can think of at least two relationships where I knew that if they went anywhere, then those relationships would be very much directed towards marriage. On one hand, I trusted God to show me whether a marriage relationship would be aligned with my personal vocational pathway. On the other hand, I hoped that God would guide and direct me out of certain relationships I wasn’t supposed to be in at all. I definitely learned a lot about myself, grace, vocation, and other people because I allowed myself to be open to being wrong about my own vocational pathway.

Yet I find myself absolutely grateful I stumbled along towards celibacy. I rejoice that God impressed the need to share life with other people as this need compelled me to consider how I could be in meaningful relationships. I had opportunities to practice (again and again) how a celibate vocation might look and feel if it was not defined legalistically. And, I still find myself hoping and praying that in sharing my story, the Church might see a greater need to help lay celibates find their 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.