Tag Archives: friendship

Showing Love in the Midst of Difference

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A few weeks ago, we published two posts on ways people could be more supportive of celibate LGBT Christians. Our target audience for these posts was straight Christians with both traditional and progressive views on sexual ethics. Not long after publishing these, we heard from several non-celibate LGBT Christian readers who wanted to know if there are any ways they could be more supportive of celibate singles and couples within the LGBT community. In response to these inquiries, we wanted to share some positive examples of how non-celibate LGBT Christian friends have shown us encouragement, kindness, and compassion.

As we reflected together before drafting this post, we concluded quickly that we have lots of awesome friends. We decided to keep our comments as generalized categories instead of stating names because we hope that many of our friends will see themselves in multiple categories. We’re so very grateful to all of the people who have shown us love, even across various theological differences.

With Lindsey being between jobs right now, we’re deeply appreciative of how our friends have stepped up to the plate to offer help when we’ve needed it. Our friends have been there with love, prayers, and significant financial support. We have been amazed at how this generosity has crossed all borders that divide Christians. Several friends even approached us with gifts before learning about our exact needs. To say we were blown away is an understatement. We remain profoundly grateful and look forward to the day of being able to pay their generosity forward. These folks can testify to the fact that you don’t have to be living the same kind of life as another person, or even understand his or her way of life, in order to extend to Christian charity.

We’ve also been humbled by friends who have shown us an earnest belief that every person matters, has value, and is worth getting to know. These folks will ask us questions about our way of life, knowing that our answers do not come from a place trying to convince them that they must adopt our way of life for themselves. They are legitimately curious when asking us about what we did the previous weekend, which books we’re reading, how God is challenging us to grow spiritually, and other such questions. Many of these friends neither understand nor agree with our approach to sexuality-related issues. Nevertheless, they exemplify that having the same theology and the same way of life is not a prerequisite for meaningful friendships. Their relationships with us showcase that it is in fact possible to experience authentic intimacy and care for another person without focusing on who’s “right” and who’s “wrong.”

We have also been so grateful for friends who have thrown themselves selflessly into supporting us through some really hard stuff. As our regular readers can attest, the last several months have been trying and stressful for us. It’s been great to have friends we can turn to whenever we need a listening ear regardless of what’s going on. If we’re experiencing a major problem in our lives or in our relationship, these friends are our “go-tos” when we need a sounding board. It’s also fantastically mutual in that they will call us whenever similar shit is hitting the fan for them. We’re able to take the time to listen, pray, be present for, and find solutions together when necessary. This arrangement works almost flawlessly because we know that these friends view us in identically the same way as they view all of their other close friends rather than conceiving of us as “that weird celibate couple.”

Another trend we’ve noticed in our close non-celibate LGBT friends is that they are fiercely protective of us. Mother bears have nothing on some of these folks. It’s comforting to know that we have friends we can turn to when we want to feel outraged about something that has happened. We have friends who don’t need to have all of the details before offering to readjust some heads, eyes, ears, or other body parts. When Sarah’s tires got slashed several months ago, it brought a smile to our faces that we had friends offering (in jest) to fly into our metro area to seek some vigilante justice. Though we’d never want someone to incite violence on our behalf, we are glad to have friends who will defend us if we’ve been wronged, support our choices as we deal with the aftermath of being wronged, and move into our emotional space with us when we just need to be majorly irked for a few minutes (or hours or days, as the case may be). Even though they certainly would not choose celibacy for themselves, we know they’d go down swinging to defend us as a celibate couple.

We’re amazed at how many specific individuals came to mind as we wrote this post. We lost count at 28. All of these people are LGBT Christians. Some are partnered, some are dating, and some are hoping to find that special someone. They come from virtually every Christian tradition under the sun. Some are out in very public ways, and others are not. Some have decided to transition their genders socially, medically, legally, or any combination therein. They are scattered across multiple countries. Some are incredibly active in church, some rarely attend religious services of any kind, and others are everywhere in between. We are incredibly blessed to share our life with so many people who can see beyond right and wrong as they look into the heart of Christ.

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.

Cultivating Emotional Intimacy

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When someone you know is going through a hard time, it’s natural to ask that person whether he or she has adequate support. As our regular readers know, the last several months have thrown many challenges our way. We are continuing to stand firm because we’re able to support one another. Many people have asked us what our intimacy looks like, and today we’d like to address a question we’ve received: “How do you cultivate emotional intimacy in a celibate relationship?” In most ways, our response is no different from what we would expect to hear from a healthy, non-celibate couple.

Upon coming into relationship with one another, we fell almost immediately into a natural pattern of cultivating deep emotional intimacy, and we’ve seen that continuing as our relationship has grown. There’s something about our personalities that has allowed each of us to “get” the other, even though we’ve both experienced being profoundly misunderstood by many people in our lives. Sometimes, two people can just click.

Our friendship blossomed because we were willing to be vulnerable with each other. As we’ve shared before, we believe that vulnerability opens the door to intimacy. When we were just beginning getting to know each other, we shared random facts about ourselves and our lives. Lindsey learned that Sarah used to wear mismatched socks to express Sarah’s individuality in elementary school. Sarah learned that as a kid, Lindsey worked to save money so Lindsey could attend Space Camp three times. These micro-stories gave us opportunities to share an incredible number of life experiences and the various emotions associated with these experiences. We each saw bits and pieces of the other’s personality, and came to appreciate some similarities while acknowledging some real differences in our pasts. Our selections were truly random, spanning from the deeply significant to the absolutely trivial. In addition to helping us get to know one another as people, sharing these stories laid a foundation for our coming to trust one another.

Early on in our friendship, we made a commitment to being completely honest with one another. Honesty is one of the highest values for both of us, and we’ve both experienced past relationships in which we or our significant others have had difficulty with being forthright. Because of this, we’ve challenged each other to be radically open about our thoughts, feelings, and mistakes when there’s a problem. Within the first month of our friendship, we had already started to see this pattern emerging between us. Though at first Lindsey considered the topic embarrassing, Lindsey shared openly with Sarah about Lindsey’s writing anxiety and the kind of support needed in order to manage it. Since we’re both writing doctoral dissertations, that type of information has been vital to ensure that we’re accomplishing our goals without sacrificing our emotional needs. Since the time Lindsey first opened up to Sarah about writing anxiety, Sarah has been able to check in with Lindsey about it and provide comfort and encouragement when Lindsey needs it most. Equally humiliating was the first time Sarah told Lindsey about Sarah’s eating disorder history. Because many people assume that these conditions are merely attention-seeking devices for wealthy, white, teenage girls and not legitimate medical conditions that could affect someone Sarah’s age, it has been a struggle for Sarah to be authentic about the need for support. But when Sarah did open up to Lindsey about this for the first time, Lindsey was unimaginably supportive and impressed by Sarah’s commitment to living a recovery-focused lifestyle even during the hard times. Examples like these have built upon our foundation for trust in one another.

Over the first few months that we knew each other, we learned a great deal of information, including the most painful and hidden parts of one another’s lives. A crucial piece of our emotional intimacy has been accepting each other’s emotional pasts for what they are and being able to appreciate that, by virtue of our humanity, we both carry deeply-rooted wounds. Whether it’s related to an issue that occurred during one of our childhoods, ways we’ve experienced hurt within the Church, Sarah’s trauma and the resulting PTSD, negative messages Lindsey received in ex-gay ministry, or something else entirely, we know that there will be space for conversation and respect for that experience’s symbolic meaning when we’re ready to talk about it together. Cultivating empathy for each other’s brokenness–that which we share in common and that which varies individually–has helped both of us to feel safe in being completely genuine with one another, regardless of how ugly that might look sometimes.

While emotional lives are built over the entire lifespan, all people experience their emotions moment by moment. We tend to regard in-the-moment emotional experiences as slightly unpredictable because emotions can vary, especially when people are under a good deal of stress. We have made a practice of affirming one another’s right to feel in the moment, even if the other doesn’t understand exactly why that particular mix of emotion is present at a given time. Our commitment to opting in 100% as we do life together has helped us develop a strong emotional intuition. When Lindsey experiences a panic attack, Sarah can usually tell whether Lindsey would benefit most from reassurance and empathy, some clear direction to start problem-solving processes, or a mixture of approaches. This emotional intelligence goes both ways in our relationship. One day recently, Lindsey just held Sarah as Sarah started crying hysterically after a conflict with Sarah’s nutritionist. Given that Sarah had been in a car accident the day before and Sarah rarely gets upset to the point of tears, Lindsey knew something was up. Nevertheless, Lindsey sat in that space with Sarah until Sarah was ready to share the specifics of what had happened. We’re profoundly grateful God has opened up to us a space of grace to be able to discern what emotional response would best draw us into a deeper relationship with one another, even though we’re still learning.

While some aspects of emotional intimacy have come naturally, other aspects of emotional intimacy are more difficult. We’ve struggled with and will continue to determine the best pathway through the difficulties associated with being open about our spiritual lives and places where our spiritualities differ. On some levels, our spiritualities are incredibly compatible: we both value intellectual honesty, placing life in the Church in its historic contexts, cultivating a prayer life, and being shaped within our specific Christian tradition. On other levels, we’re continually surprised at just how hard it’s been to honor our natural spiritual inclinations when developing our own sense of tradition. Lindsey’s faith journey has been profoundly influenced by mainstays of the Evangelical tradition, as Lindsey’s faith began to blossom in college while Lindsey was participating in Intervarsity and playing on the worship team of a nondenominational congregation. Sarah’s personal spirituality and formation has been tied to more liturgical traditions, as Sarah has naturally grown in faith through partaking of the sacraments and engaging in robust intellectual reflection. Even though our spiritualities may look very similar at first glance, we’ve learned that we value incredibly different facets of the spiritual experiences we share. We have welcomed the opportunity to learn more about each other even though we’re still learning the best way to have these conversations. That said, we should also note that we have high expectations and hopes that we will find our way.

The emotional intimacy that we’ve been able to cultivate within our partnership has also manifested in spillovers into other relationships. We find it easier to be compassionate when others are going through hard times. We can affirm other people’s emotions and create space for whatever feeling happens to be in the room. We’ve learned that matching appropriate responses with how a specific individual experiences emotion can be hard, so we try to respond first with empathy. Cultivating emotional intimacy in all one’s relationships is a lifelong process, and we’re glad to take in whatever wisdom the journey may bring.

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.

Is celibacy the same as singleness?

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Continually, we interact with people who posit that the idea of gay Christians being called to celibacy is absolute madness. Arguably, the most common objection centers upon the cruelty of consigning LGBT Christians to lives of singleness that are characterized by loneliness and an absence of any intimate connections. Yet this objection conflates celibacy and singleness and makes negative assumptions about both.

We think this conflation comes as people define celibacy as “not marriage.” If you’re not married, then you’re single. Therefore, since celibate people do not enter into sacramental marriages, all celibate people are single. Our culture values using the presence or absence of marriage as a way to define a person’s state in life. Many people regard “getting married” as an essential coming of age ritual that marks a person’s ascendence into adulthood. Because of this, people often see singleness as a temporary state, and since most celibates are single by societal standards it gets assumed that celibates are isolated people who are missing out on an important part of adult life. Taking some time to look in the thesaurus, single has synonyms of “individual, lone, separate, simple, isolated, separated, and solitary.” There is a reasonable amount of positive associations too (original, distinguished, undivided, and unique), but in our experience, people dominantly focus on how living a celibate life features an almost definitional struggle against loneliness.

In the modern world, we’ve lost a sense of vocational diversity. Within many Christian traditions, celibacy has all but disappeared. For those traditions that still preserve a sense of celibacy as a vocation, celibacy is often tied to the priesthood or joining a monastery. Marital imagery dominates discussions of the monastic discernment process. When a person begins visiting a monastery regularly, people will speak as though the individual is dating the monastery. Becoming formal novice at a monastery is regarded as the engagement period before one takes vows to be “married” to the Church. This focus on marriage as a formal commitment overshadows the communal reality of joining a monastery. Monastics do not enter a random cloud of every person called a monastic; monastics join the life of a particular community, entering into a web of diverse relationships with particular people. As arguably the oldest expression of Christian celibate vocation, monastics live their lives richly connected to one another in community. Many monastics we know see themselves as richly connected to the world through their intercessions.

Focusing so much on marriage vs. singleness as a dichotomy seems to place relationships in a hierarchy. At the top is one’s marital relationship. Friends and acquaintances occupy second and third place. For people who view relationships this way, to forgo marriage requires a massive sacrifice as one is expected to give up not only a hypothetical spouse, but also partnership, companionship, intimacy, and even love itself. Furthermore, unmarried people are encouraged to explore virtually all opposite-sex relationships with any emotional depth to discern the “marriage potential.” With such a cultural emphasis on marriage, it’s not terribly surprising that relationships between sexually abstinent people are devalued and dismissed as to their ability to offer partnership, companionship, intimacy, and love.

We’d like to state again that we regard celibacy as a mature vocational pathway that people enter rather than a default state of life that unmarried people live because they “can’t” marry for whatever reason. Our experience suggests that celibacy is most sustainably lived in an intimate community where members share life with one another. There’s a reason why monasteries have been an enduring expression of how one can live out a celibate life. Our own celibate vocations opened up to each of us fully after we started exploring the possibility of sharing life together. We’d also contend that celibate people living their lives as single in the world develop a knack for finding a meaningful community of like-minded people along professional, personal, and affective lines.

Lindsey has been actively cultivating a celibate vocation for years. While Lindsey’s discernment began in the context of a celibate relationship, the bulk of Lindsey’s learning came as Lindsey lived as a single person in the world. Lindsey sought out meaningful relationships in diverse places. Over time, Lindsey developed a sense that some friendships are “singular friendships,” that is to say that these friendships exist in a category of 1. Lindsey was amazed constantly by the depth within these friendships and the uniqueness of each friendship, even one to another. By the time the two of us met, Lindsey had four singular friendships, all of which continue to this day.

As a final thought, we think it valuable to note that historically celibate vocations have had tremendous diversity. Celibate people are not easily categorized by black-and-white thinking. For every person who has lived a celibate life in a monastery, an untold number of people have lived celibate lives in the world. Some celibates live alone as hermits while others live in large communities. There are also plenty of celibate people who live in small groups. Christian traditions have affirmed value in a celibate vocation by blessing people as priests, consecrated religious, consecrated virgins, monks, and friars. We hope our blog can be a community among people living celibate lives in the world right now so that others can better see the rich diversity of this vocation.

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

What I Learned from Being Robbed at Knife Point

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A reflection by Lindsey

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

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

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

Then, my good fortune ran out.

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

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

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

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

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