Our Experiences of the Ex-Gay Movement

Not long ago, a reader emailed us to ask if we would be willing to share in greater detail about our experiences of the ex-gay movement and how it was harmful to us. We’ve referenced this vaguely in other posts because it’s an important part of both our stories, but it has taken us a few weeks to determine our readiness to discuss this topic more specifically. Even some people who know us very well have, up to this point, been unaware of our experiences in the ex-gay world. We’re a bit surprised that only one reader has asked about our histories with this issue because we’ve received a fair number of accusations that because we are celibate, we must be covertly ex-gay. This is absolutely untrue, and we would venture a guess that we’ve experienced just as much pain as a result of these “ministries” as have LGBT people who are sexually active. In the future, we will probably elect to write more on the topic of the ex-gay world. Today, we take our first step towards more open conversation on this matter. The purpose of this post is to initiate discussion on our blog about the detrimental effects of ex-gay ministries upon LGBT Christians.

We’ve decided to structure this post around three general subtopics, but before we get there, we’ll provide you with some background on our individual past involvement with ex-gay ministries. Lindsey joined an ex-gay ministry during college after becoming more aware of Lindsey’s sexuality. Lindsey sought support from ex-gay ministry because Lindsey wasn’t interested in being a cause of scandal for Lindsey’s Christian fellowship on campus. Despite living in a big city at the time, Lindsey couldn’t find many local resources that fit Lindsey’s situation so Lindsey participated in an online forum. The online forum provided a space for young adults to talk about their struggles with same-sex attraction, positing different mechanisms behind the struggles and the victories. In this community, the “opposite” of homosexuality was holiness and members worked very hard at overcoming any areas of sexual sin.

Sarah’s experience did not originate with the intention of participating in an ex-gay ministry. Instead, Sarah was seeking affordable eating disorder treatment resources. Sarah had run out of health insurance coverage and did not have the ability to pay for most professional services due to being a full-time student with limited income. Sarah stumbled accidentally upon a free Christian treatment provider, and was unaware that this provider viewed homosexuality, eating disorders, addictions, and all sorts of maladaptive means of coping with life as the results of demonic possession. When Sarah began receiving services from this provider, Sarah had no idea that “treatment” would focus on attempts to pray away all parts of Sarah’s life that a Christian counselor had deemed contrary to God’s will.

Years after our experiences in the ex-gay movement, we’ve been able to identify three major categories of harm that both of us experienced as a result of being involved with these “ministries.” The rest of this post will provide explanations and examples of those.

Emphasis on certain life experiences and problems as “causes” of homosexuality

According to ex-gay organizations, almost any life experience that deviates slightly from what leaders consider “normal” is a likely candidate for the cause of a person’s sexual orientation. For example, a person’s gender identity is especially suspect as LGB people do not have appropriate understandings of their “true” genders in Christ. Within this framework, a woman who has preferred short hair and jeans to long hair and dresses since childhood likely ended up a lesbian because she was never taught to live into her true feminine identity. The same goes for a man who likes the color pink and prefers dancing over football. Guys are encouraged to see themselves as men of God, embracing a strong masculine identity. When members of Lindsey’s ex-gay ministry got together, the guys would be encouraged to play sports while the girls would be encouraged to explore makeovers. Leaders of this ministry lived in the southern United States where various southern gender ideals were promoted aggressively. This organization’s framework postulated that same-sex desire grew from a perceived deficiency of gender where the same-sex attracted person sought out what he or she was missing from another person of the same sex. Lindsey’s rather ambiguous gender presentation was actively challenged. It was exceptionally hurtful for Lindsey to hear that Lindsey’s stable gender presentation was an active attempt to proclaim LGBT status rather than Lindsey’s natural self-expression.

In ex-gay ministries, a person who has experienced any sort of physical boundary violation at any point in life is said to be deficient in his or her understanding of God’s plan for marriage and sexuality. If a person was ever the victim of sexual violence, leaders of the ministry will insist that the incident was what led that person to “sexual deviance.” There is no consideration of the fact that a large percentage of heterosexual people also have histories of sexual abuse, assault, and rape. People who can’t remember ever having experienced a violation of physical boundaries are urged to try harder at remembering—there must be something that happened in one’s past because according to many ex-gay Christian counselors, “Every gay man or lesbian I’ve ever known has been sexually abused or raped.” For a person who has never had such an experience, repetition of these messages can lead to false memories. For a person who has had such an experience, it becomes impossible to discuss trauma, especially sexual trauma, in any meaningful way because the counselor will always tie it to one’s sexual orientation. Sarah experienced a significant amount of this conflation. Sarah sees Sarah’s own history of trauma as directly related to Sarah’s eating disorder. However, Sarah is confident that this trauma is in no way related to sexual orientation. No matter how much Sarah attempted to discuss trauma within the context of the eating disorder, it was unsuccessful because the counselor’s reply was always something like, “Your experience made you susceptible to demons. The Holy Spirit told me that the demon causing your bulimia will not leave unless you’re willing to let Jesus heal your evil sexual desires.” What usually followed was a spiritually abusive style of free-formed prayer that left Sarah cowering while the counselor commanded the “demons” to leave in Jesus’ name. Sarah’s participation in this unscientific form of treatment not only set Sarah back in terms of recovery, but also left Sarah feeling more stigmatized than ever regarding the trauma.

Manipulation, mind control, and questioning the motives of all actions

For both of us, ex-gay ministries were highly manipulative. Ex-gay ministries assume they know one’s story from the instant one first makes contact. While reportedly trying to help individuals cultivate healthy same-sex friendships, ex-gay ministries frequently insert theories of homosexuality that make friendships difficult. Cultivating appropriate emotional intimacy becomes hard as ministries tout claims of “emotional dependency” as what causes a “normal” same-sex friendship to turn in a necessarily sexual direction. According to this mindset, the only way to determine if one is moving towards “emotional dependency” is to examine one’s motives rigorously and ruthlessly. Lindsey had difficulty having conversations with both men and women as the ministry constantly argued that close opposite-sex friendships should be investigated for marriage potential and that close same-sex friendships needed to be interrogated lest sexual desire arise. Feeling constant pressure to question motives in all these friendships, Lindsey found it easier to remain isolated rather than attempt to build friendships even though isolation significantly fueled Lindsey’s depression. When Lindsey would try to push back on the accepted narrative, Lindsey would be sharply chastised. Eventually, Lindsey’s questioning the ministry’s interpretation of 1 Cor 6:9-11 lead to a rupture in the relationship.

At the time Sarah was receiving therapeutic services from the Christian treatment provider, Sarah frequently heard the message that all problems Sarah experienced in life were somehow related to sexuality. Whether the issue was a struggle to remain behavior-free, a difficult experience in grocery shopping, frustration about relationships with family, or a sense of being overwhelmed by academic work, the counselor found some reason to suggest that the problem would cease to exist (or at least, would not be as serious) if Sarah would only choose to “become straight.” The counselor created visions of an ideal life that Sarah could lead as a “sexually healed” person, complete with a husband, children, a fulfilling career, emotional peace, and financial security. Sarah never actually believed any of this, but because of how ill Sarah had become with the eating disorder before, Sarah felt desperate to find an affordable resource–any resource–that would provide some semblance of tools for wellness. That’s why Sarah continued receiving services from this organization, and despite the best of attempts at getting something useful out of therapy while ignoring harmful messages, Sarah began to feel manipulated and sense that this ministry was trying to gain control over Sarah. Regularly, the counselor would meet Sarah in the most vulnerable of moments with assumptive statements about Sarah’s sexual history, claiming the Holy Spirit had revealed to her that Sarah had engaged in immoral sexual activity just the night before. In reality, Sarah was single and sexually abstinent the entire time. However, that didn’t stop Sarah from beginning to scrutinize and obsess over all of Sarah’s actions. At one point, Sarah had a flashback to a therapy session while admiring the aesthetics of a lovely painting featuring full-figured Roman goddesses in the local art museum.

Spiritual and social consequences for questioning and leaving the organization

Ex-gay ministries do what they do because they portray themselves as committed to God’s work. People who leave these ministries to explore a different sense of their LGBT identities are equated with people who have left Christ, who have not fought the good fight, and who will not inherit the kingdom of God. Leavers are people who have been deceived by Satan and are unable to accept their true identities in Christ. Lindsey left the ex-gay ministry after violating a provision in the code of conduct that members were not to have any unmoderated contact with one another. It should have been a red flag that no amount of adherence to group expectations would have been enough to create an environment of trust. After Lindsey left one ex-gay ministry, Lindsey looked for other options in order to be permitted to continue volunteering at church. But without actively participating in an ex-gay ministry of some kind, Lindsey was unable to do anything in the church because church leaders felt uncomfortable with Lindsey’s involvement in the congregation.

It took a few months for Sarah to see that no possible benefit could be gleaned from continuing to receive counseling services from an organization with such strong ex-gay views. Sarah did not have any other treatment plan in place at the time, but was certain that leaving this resource was the only viable decision. When Sarah first informed the counselor of this, the manipulation intensified in attempt to get Sarah to remain affiliated and continue receiving services. The counselor told Sarah that leaving would bring profound spiritual danger and begged Sarah to pray with her for salvation and deliverance. When Sarah refused, the counselor reminded Sarah of an agreement for receiving a full six months of services that Sarah had signed only three months prior. Eventually when the counselor saw that Sarah would not budge on the decision, she resorted to playing upon Sarah’s worst fear: that leaving would mean giving up hope of ever recovering. “There’s not a treatment facility anywhere in the world that will be able to help you if you’re unwilling to surrender,” she asserted. Sarah did leave and never looked back, but it took a few years to get past the associations Sarah had formed amongst harmful behaviors, sexual orientation, and accusations of being untrue to Christ. Fortunately, Sarah began a relationship with a compassionate spiritual director within Sarah’s own Christian tradition less than a week after this incident. He was able to help Sarah deconstruct the poor theological and psychological claims made within the ex-gay world and encourage Sarah to spend time listening to God.

Our experiences of ex-gay ministry are radically different, yet eerily similar. Lindsey sought ex-gay ministry voluntarily, and Sarah stumbled unknowingly across a ministry with ex-gay ideals. We think it’s important to note that many Christian organizations that do not outwardly claim to be ex-gay have an implicit predisposition to try and force LGBT people towards cisgender, heterosexual norms. The tactics used are highly manipulative and become spiritually abusive far too easily. Under no circumstances do we approve of ministries seeking to help LGBT Christians become straight.

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.

Protected by celibacy?

As we’ve been blogging, from time to time people have approached us with questions like, “Why do you care about LGBT people in the Church? You’re celibate. You don’t have anything to worry about.” People assume that because we’re celibate, we’ve checked the proverbial box that ensures that we’re safe in all Christian environments. Not to put too fine a point on our response, but that assumption couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Some people think that if we’re celibate, we’re not identifiable as members of the LGBT community. In truth, Lindsey’s never been able to pass as a cisgender, heterosexual person in terms of physical appearance. With a rather ambiguous build, short hair, and a penchant for khakis and button-down shirts, Lindsey fits many people’s stereotypes of what an LGBT person looks like. It doesn’t matter that Lindsey’s appearance has been mostly static since middle school. When Sarah is not with Lindsey, people generally assume Sarah–who has an unmistakably feminine appearance–is straight. However, we as a couple lose any privileges associated with passing as straight the instant Lindsey appears on the scene. To many people, that we show up as a pair and that and Lindsey is so visibly a member of the LGBT community are enough for them to make assumptions about our sexual ethics. Celibacy doesn’t even enter the picture.

Equally, our celibacy does not protect Sarah from facing backlash once people see us together. We’ve noticed in situation after situation how easily people’s comfort levels with Sarah change once they meet Lindsey and realize we’re together. One example of this came about when Lindsey was in the process of moving to Sarah’s city. During visits prior to the move, Lindsey attended services at Sarah’s parish with Sarah. Sarah had recently made that parish home, and was still relatively new there. While many people initially treated Sarah just like any other person, that began to change once they met Lindsey—and this was well before anyone had come to know us as a couple. Simply seeing us attend church together was enough to cause some to distance themselves from Sarah and hesitate to socialize with Lindsey at all.

Another issue is that a great many people have no understanding of what celibacy is and/or think “being gay” automatically means having sex. To these folks, the idea of celibacy as a way of life an LGBT person might adopt is foreign. The question they ask is not, “What is an appropriate sexual ethic for an LGBT person?” Instead, it’s, “Why isn’t this person willing to stop being gay?” When we are in the presence of people holding this perspective, our celibacy means nothing in conversation. If we try at all to discuss celibacy in response to someone’s assertion of, “The Church says you can’t be gay,” that gets us nowhere more often than not. Sometimes, the person will counter with, “Well, if you aren’t having sex, then you aren’t really gay,” followed by, “You could still get married to someone of the opposite sex if you wanted.” But generally, we don’t even get that much of a conversation going. The more typical response we hear is, “Huh?” with no further attempt at engaging us in discussion ever again. In these situations, our celibacy does nothing to protect us because the person isn’t comfortable talking about sexual ethics in the first place.

Additionally, people frequently associate celibacy with singleness. To these people, we cannot be celibate because we are in a relationship with one another. We find this assumption to be entirely problematic because it misrepresents celibacy. Celibacy as a way of life is deeply rooted in community. Monastic communities provide insight into how people have lived Christ-centered celibate lives for hundreds of years. Conversely, living alone in an apartment far from one’s family of origin is arguably one of the newest ways of life. Yet, an identifiably solitary life is the dominant image most people have of modern celibacy. Because many people associate celibacy with singleness, they cannot grasp the idea that we’re a celibate couple, let alone consider what that might mean for our lives as LGBT Christians. These people can only see us members of the LGBT community and make assumptions about our activity from there. We’re no strangers to the accusation that we have rejected a celibate way of life because we’re in a relationship.

We totally understand that celibacy is a queer calling. Many people just don’t get it. While at first glance it may seem that celibate LGBT people are protected by their celibacy, we (and other individuals in similar situations) often encounter a double helping of misconceptions about both celibacy and LGBT topics. We’re consistently read in social situations as “not heterosexual,” a reading which in and of itself invites a considerable amount of accusations.

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 there a script?

A reflection by Sarah

The first job title I acquired after moving to my college town at age 18 was “telegiving associate.” I worked for my university’s annual giving program, soliciting funds from alumni and other current and past donors. I spent five evenings a week calling these people, attempting to have real conversations as much as I was allowed. There were perks for getting large donations and consequences for finishing a shift with little success, but the most serious reproaches came when the supervisor overheard one of my coworkers or me deviating from the script. About once per shift I would hear some variation of, “I don’t care if he told you that he just lost his job. You have to ask him for a $500 donation. If he says no, ask for $300 and work your way down to $100. Follow the script. It’s there for a reason.” According to my supervisor, I had too much empathy to excel at this job. Once, I was asked to leave my shift because he saw me tearing up during a call with an alumna who had lost both arms and legs in a horrific accident. I resigned as soon as I found a position at a local independent bookstore.

I don’t have much patience for scripted conversations. I never have, and that sentiment only increases as I get older. Scripts don’t do justice to the complexities of real people with real experiences, emotions, and stories. The telegiving position was an extreme example because in that case, there was a literal script to follow as a requirement of the job, but subtler scripted conversations exist in other places too—sometimes where we wouldn’t expect them, and sometimes in contexts where the stated intention is, ironically, to create space for authenticity. Here’s one such example from a conversation I had with a therapist seven years ago while eating lunch in her office:

Therapist: “Why are you tearing your peanut butter and jelly sandwich in half?”

Me: “Because I don’t have a knife to cut it.”

Therapist: “But why do you have to eat it in halves?”

Me: “I don’t have to. It’s the way I’ve always eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Therapist: “Let’s talk about how that’s related to your eating disorder.”

Me: “It isn’t. It’s normal.”

Therapist: “But are you a normal eater?”

Me: “Well, no…”

Therapist: “So can you see why we need to talk about how this is related to your eating disorder?”

Me: “I’ve already told you—it isn’t related.”

Therapist: “How do you know that?”

Me: “Because it’s not the same as x, y, and z behaviors that are actually disordered. And normal eaters eat sandwiches in halves.”

Therapist: “Do you think someone in your position knows what it means to eat normally?”

Me: (Huge sigh) “This isn’t helping. This isn’t the conversation I need to be having. What I need to talk about has nothing to do with tearing a sandwich in half.”

Therapist: “Let’s do an experiment and see what happens when you eat it without tearing it in half.”

It’s clear that despite my suggesting the conversation’s direction ought to be changed, the therapist wasn’t able to move past her initial question or the right answer she already had in mind—that eating a sandwich in halves was based on some sort of illogical food rule, that it couldn’t possibly be normal. My experience didn’t make sense to her because it didn’t fit her expectations. As I’ve seen with some regularity, the sincerest, most authentic means of approaching a problem doesn’t always fit within the accepted script for conversation about a given topic. Often, the script short-circuits any attempt at real dialogue. I’m simultaneously amused and frustrated by how frequently such scripts–no matter the conversation topic–claim to “challenge black-and-white thinking” while unwittingly promoting the same old black-and-white tropes dressed up in a new wardrobe. I’ve grown accustomed to asking, “Is there a script?” when I’m concerned that I might be interacting with one. No one ever comes forth and says, “Yes, there is a script.” Most often if there is a script, the response to that question will be ambiguous. And that’s when I take my leave. I think in many cases, even those creating the script aren’t entirely aware of its existence.

All this has been on my mind because recently, I had to leave another recovery resource because of the thinly veiled script I had begun to observe there. It’s not the first time this has happened as I’ve sought resources aligned with my goals for becoming well, but every time it does occur I end up feeling very much like Donnie Darko…

…and in my most uncharitable and immature moments, I find myself falling to the temptation of Donnie’s “take the lifeline exercise card and shove it up your ass” response (revealed in the next scene, in case you aren’t familiar with the movie). Disclaimer: I wouldn’t recommend taking that approach, as it isn’t consistent with cultivating any sort of Christian vocation. In case you’re wondering about the scripted recovery conversation I recently abandoned, I made every effort to do so with grace and dignity…though I’m still fantasizing about calling up the powers that be to deliver the “I’ve got two words for you” message. Sounds like I’m in need of a good confession.

It may seem that my ramblings today have little to do with celibacy, vocation, LGBT issues, or Christianity…but the truth is, I see the same dynamic constantly playing out in conversations about all these topics. There’s a script that LGBT people, allies, and even non-allies are supposed to follow. It used to be that straight, anti-gay Christians wrote the script, which included several rounds of, “Being gay is a sin and a choice,” followed closely by the passive response, “I’ll ask God to change my sexual orientation or gender identity.” In some denominations, that’s the way the script works even today. In others, it is changing…but it’s still a script.

With gay and straight Christians in denominations accepting a modern, liberal sexual ethic, I’ve had many a conversation that looks frighteningly similar to the one with my former therapist. Take this one for example:

Liberal Christian: “Why are you celibate?”

Me: “Because I believe God has called me to celibacy.”

Liberal Christian: “But why do you have to be celibate?”

Me: “I don’t feel forced. I chose celibacy because I felt called.”

Liberal Christian: “There has to be some level at which you’re feeling forced. Let me talk with you, pray with you, and help you to understand that God will still love you if you have sex with a woman.”

Me: “I already know that God loves me, and even though celibacy isn’t easy, I see it as a joyous vocation.”

Liberal Christian: “But don’t you think it’s unnatural to deny your sexuality?”

Me: “Not having sex isn’t the same as denying one’s sexuality.”

Liberal Christian: “I don’t know how you do it. It must make you feel miserable not to let yourself have sex.”

Me: “I define my vocation in the positive, not the negative. And I’m far from miserable.”

Liberal Christian: “Have you ever experimented to see if you might be happier as a sexually active person?”

Celibacy is forced. Celibacy means lack of self-acceptance. Celibacy is misery. Celibacy is a problem to be solved. Never mind my authentic responses. Those are the right answers because the script says so.

And don’t think for a moment that denominations supporting a traditional sexual ethic while seeing a difference between orientation and action are any more adept at preventing scripted conversations. I could just as easily plug a different set of tropes and responses into the text above and replicate about 75% of conversations on sexuality I’ve had with people in my current and former Christian traditions:

Conservative Christian: “Why do you say you’re gay if you don’t have sex?”

Me: “Because I’m attracted to women. Being gay/lesbian isn’t just about sex.”

Conservative Christian: “But why do you have to talk about it the way you do? I’m okay with your blogging about sexual orientation, but you really should include a clear statement of ‘gay sex is a sin’ at least once in every post.”

Me: “I’m not interested in talking about what is or is not sinful. There are other places where you can have that conversation. I’m interested in exploring how to develop a meaningful way of life.”

Conservative Christian: “And you shouldn’t say you’re in a relationship. People might think you’re having gay sex while saying otherwise, condoning gay sex, or not accepting the Church’s teachings on sex and marriage.”

Me: “If people make assumptions about what I do or don’t think without asking me, that’s their own problem.”

Conservative Christian: “Have you thought of just trying to be single, or maybe joining a monastery?”

Different issues, different words, different ideologies, different agendas, but the message is all the same: “Follow the script. Don’t question it. Don’t deviate. The constructed narrative isn’t the problem—you are.” Rubbish. While I don’t see myself as some unique butterfly exempt from norms that other people must follow, I’ll not waste my time force-fitting myself into someone else’s scripted reality…because the truth is, no two people are exactly the same. That goes for people with eating disorders, LGBT Christians, and any other demographic you might be inclined to name. Dissimilarity matters. Complexity matters. The right answers aren’t always the real answers. And no matter how comfortable it may feel to do so, you can’t place every problem, issue, feeling, and person into a black-and-white category, denying all other aspects of lived experience.

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.

White Knuckling Can Only Get You So Far

A reflection by Lindsey

One of the lines sometimes used by Christians embracing a traditional sexual ethic when counseling people with same-sex attractions is that there is a difference between being attracted to someone and acting on those attractions. This counsel makes a distinction between temptation and sin, observing that absolutely everyone experiences temptation of some kind. Christ Himself experienced temptation. What separates us from Christ is that we frequently respond to temptation poorly. Christ is sinless because He never faltered on the divide between temptation and sin. According to this line of thinking, holiness is within our reach, provided we seek God’s help in making the right decisions when we feel tempted.

I’ve spent at least a decade trying to make sense of this particular message and have concluded that it fails miserably at answering the question, “Well then, how should we live?” When rubber meets the road, people find themselves devoting considerable time to learning how to resist temptations to do things that they know are unhealthy for them. I think this type of “just don’t do it” message is what can cause people to compare homosexuality to alcoholism: “An alcoholic must do everything in his or her power to avoid taking that first drink.” In this mindset, a gay person must do everything in his or her power to avoid sexual sin: holiness for a same-sex orientated person is defined by avoiding lust, pornography, masturbation, and anything else that might fuel the desires for same-sex sexual activity.

I’d like to call bullshit.

The “just don’t have sex or do anything lustful” directive characterizes homosexuality as a propensity towards a particular kind of action: being gay simply means experiencing temptation for particular kinds of sexual activity. People of all orientations who do experience significant sexual temptations can find themselves trying to “fake it until they make it” resorting to white knuckling as the main approach. Often in the lives of gay people seeking spiritual counsel, that approach is not only encouraged, but is couched as the only possible means for living celibacy. I’ve watched so many people paralyzed by white knuckling that I can spot it a mile away. White knuckling offers false hope and denies people a life-giving way of being. It doesn’t matter what a person is trying to resist; white knuckling can only get him or her so far.

This kind of thinking dominated the approach to the ex-gay ministry I was a part of several years ago. I approached the ministry blissfully unaware of a great deal of things that might be considered potential sexual temptations. I noticed that there was something about me where it made sense that I might be a member of the LGBT community, but at that point had no experience with any kind of sexual activity. Truth be told, I came to ex-gay ministry because I was terrified of falling out of grace and finding myself on the “wrong” side of the Church. It’s remarkable that 13 years later, I still have to swallow that fear from time to time. Fearing everyone in the Church and everything vaguely “gay” did a lot to tear at me emotionally, spiritually, and even physically. In the ex-gay world, I was learning that it was only appropriate to fear my sexuality. In other words, I was being inundated with the message that white knuckling was the only Christian response to the experience of same-sex attraction.

To be sure, there might be seasons when white knuckling is the most appropriate strategy to try and stop undesirable behaviors of one kind or another. Not to draw any comparison between homosexuality and addiction (Sarah has written on problems with that comparison), but I have a great deal of compassion when a person is starting the process of ceasing addictive behaviors. Sometimes sitting on one’s hands is the only way to keep oneself safe in an immediate season of crisis. But what can get a person through one minute is not adequate to get one through the rest of one’s life. Thinking that it will can cause a lot of damage. Specifically concerning sexuality, such an approach can hold a person back from ever integrating fully this part of his or her humanity.

White knuckling is exhausting. Living in constant fear can be an incredible energy drain. People devote so much energy to resisting things they should not do that it becomes easy to lose track of what they should do. Furthermore, behaviors themselves become the problem. When someone is white knuckling, he or she only sees particular actions as problematic. In the case of sexuality, people can lose sight of the fact that this part of our being is a gift from God that enables us to connect with others. When in the thick of ex-gay ministry, I found it impossible to connect with other people because I had learned to fear just about every possible interaction.

I had to move away from the idea that my sexuality was something to be feared. I’ve encouraged hundreds of people to reconsider their beliefs that fear is the most appropriate emotional response to their sexualities. Moving beyond white knuckling requires changing one’s perspective. We need to be able to affirm what is good about how we interact with others, perceive beauty, and experience attractions of all kinds. Getting past white knuckling enables many people to move beyond fear and honestly assess how certain behaviors may work in their lives. As I’ve watched people move beyond white knuckling, I’ve seen time and time again how perfect love casts out all fear and creates space for people to be transformed by God’s grace.

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.

World Vision, Gay Marriage, and the Queer Calling of Serving the Poor

World Vision, a leading international development charity known for its child sponsorship program, created a fire in the blogosphere by announcing (and then retracting) a decision that gay Christians in legal same-sex marriages would be eligible for employment at the charity. In the 72 hours of the news cycle thus far, we’ve seen a lot of opinions expressed: some writers praised World Vision’s initial move as a radical acceptance of gay marriage. Others decried the decision as caving to worldly pressures. Still, others began calling upon progressive Christians to support the charity financially as conservative Christians dropped their child sponsorship commitments. Yet another group encouraged conservative Christians to sponsor children with more theologically orthodox charities. Then, when the decision was reversed, people on both sides of the debate became disgruntled.

The two of us here at A Queer Calling see another perspective on the events of the past three days, and we haven’t seen this discussed much yet: we believe that each Christian tradition has an obligation to define marriage and guide members of that specific tradition to Christ-honoring ways of life. All Christian traditions and organizations should recognize that people are people, create in God’s image and likeness. And lastly, service to the poor is its own kind of queer calling.

Christianity Today interviewed Richard Stearns, the director of World Vision, after the initial decision to allow hiring of staff members in legal same-sex marriages and reported:

Stearns said World Vision has never asked about sexual orientation when interviewing job candidates. Instead, the organization screens employees for their Christian faith, asking if they can affirm the Apostles’ Creed or World Vision’s Trinitarian statement of faith. Yet World Vision has long had a Christian conduct policy for employees that “holds a very high bar for all manner of conduct,” said Stearns. Regarding sexuality activity, World Vision has required abstinence for all single employees, and fidelity for all married employees.

Let’s be clear about something: World Vision is not a church, and it hires Christians from a wide range of traditions. We don’t know for sure the variety of denominations represented by World Vision’s staff members, but theoretically, there could be members of the United Church of Christ working alongside members of the Roman Catholic Church. When you insert multiple Christian traditions into the mix, it’s not terribly hard to see that there are many points of theological disagreement. These different traditions have come to varying conclusions about the acceptability of same-sex marriage, but also have markedly different views on virtually everything that could be used to define a Christian tradition: sacramental theology, worship practice, Christology, views on authority, church organization, salvation, you name it. World Vision has kept a practice of bridging these differences by asking job seekers to affirm the Apostles’ Creed or World Vision’s Trinitarian Statement of Faith and to agree to a Christian conduct policy.

In reversing their decision, Richard Stearns published an open letter in which he wrote the following:

We are writing to you our trusted partners and Christian leaders who have come to us in the spirit of Matthew 18 to express your concern in love and conviction. You share our desire to come together in the Body of Christ around our mission to serve the poorest of the poor. We have listened to you and want to say thank you and to humbly ask for your forgiveness.

In our board’s effort to unite around the church’s shared mission to serve the poor in the name of Christ, we failed to be consistent with World Vision U.S.’s commitment to the traditional understanding of Biblical marriage and our own Statement of Faith, which says, “We believe the Bible to be the inspired, the only infallible, authoritative Word of God.” And we also failed to seek enough counsel from our own Christian partners. As a result, we made a change to our conduct policy that was not consistent with our Statement of Faith and our commitment to the sanctity of marriage.

Such is the work of today’s American “orthodoxy.” Divisions in faith and practice can be myriad. Many American Christians shop around for various churches, visiting congregations attached to different Christian traditions and looking for the magical mix that spurs them to consider one particular local church “home.” For many Christians, especially those in evangelical traditions, diversity of belief and practice amongst different denominations and local congregations is viewed as acceptable when it comes to a wide range of issues. Yet, the instant questions of homosexuality and same-sex marriage enter the fray, the loosely organized conservative Evangelical Church appears to fight the good fight in the name of defending the faith, the authority of the Scriptures, the rightness of one particular biblical interpretation, and the cause of Christian unity. It’s no wonder that gay Christians feel frustrated, angry, and hurt when our lives (or people’s assumptions about our lives) become the deal-breaking factor many straight Christians consider when deciding to support (or cease supporting) charitable organizations.

Since World Vision made its initial decision (and even more since the reversal), people have been asking us our opinion on this whole messy situation. Some have assumed incorrectly  that because we are a celibate couple, we were glad to see World Vision’s retraction and apology. Not so. We tend to advocate for the freedom of Christian traditions to define marriage in accordance with their own theologies and guide people within those traditions to Christ-honoring lives. This doesn’t mean we agree with all possible Christian theologies of marriage and sexuality, but it does mean that we respect the autonomy of each church/denomination to make its own decisions on these matters. There are many Christians who, within the contexts of their own traditions, have reached different conclusions on sexual ethics than we have. We don’t see it as our job to impose our own theology of marriage and sexuality upon other people, and we don’t see such as the job of nondenominational Christian charities either. Again, World Vision employs people from many denominations, presumably some that affirm same-sex marriage, and is not a church. 

Now that World Vision has reversed its decision, we wonder how the organization might react to a job candidate who is not in a same-sex marriage, but a civil union or domestic partnership. Call us pessimists here, but we’re not too confident that the terminology used would make any difference. One could make an argument that these other types of arrangements are neither scriptural nor unscriptural–that they are legal relationships having nothing to do with how religious terms are defined. One could make a similar argument about “legal marriage” in contrast to “religious marriage.” But somehow we doubt that most of the donors who pulled their sponsorships of children would be any more amiable toward the idea of LGBT people in civil unions, domestic partnerships, or even as singles working for an organization like World Vision.

In the worldview of many Christians, it is totally acceptable to make a number of assumptions about a person’s sexual ethic, way of life, faithfulness, and so on if that person is LGBT. That a gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender (or any combination thereof) couple has acquired some form of legally recognized relationship says nothing about that couple’s sexual ethic or religious understanding of marriage. Since so many of the basic rights tied to caring for another person are granted only with a government-recognized marriage, it’s entirely possible that a couple in our own situation might find state-sanctioned marriage the only means of protecting each other legally. But regardless of a couple’s (or a single person’s) situation or convictions, it’s difficult for us to see how hiring a person for work that involves service to the poor necessarily implies endorsement of that person’s sexual ethic or theology of marriage. We’ve read a couple of arguments that World Vision’s retraction was a move to protect marriage/a Christian sexual ethic and not an attempt to keep LGBT people in general out of employment in Christian charitable organizations…but to us, that seems to be wishful thinking. How many of the donors that pulled support from World Vision still would have done so if the original announcement had been about acceptance of LGBT people rather than willingness to hire married LGBT people? We’ll never know the answer to this, but we remain highly skeptical of the claim that this controversy has only to do with gay marriage.

In our estimation, service to the poor is its own kind of a queer calling. With so many social messages that happiness, fulfillment, and a life well-lived come from acquiring many assets, opting out of the materialistic rat race is surely countercultural. Individuals who take on this work forgo many benefits assumed with employment in other positions, and usually people interested in faith-based international development jobs are willing to move every few years to advance different projects around the world. Often, workers–irrespective of sexual orientation, gender identity, and marital status–make radical commitments to serving others at the expense of their own comfort and wellbeing. There is a reason Christians of all sexual orientations and gender identities are committed to establishing a preferential option for the poor: the Gospel compels us to care for the least of these. World Vision has consistently displayed a commitment to enter communities that would most benefit from their services, including those significantly affected by AIDS. World Vision sees these people as people and fights for the chance to serve them. It seems a bit ironic that an organization so committed to seeing Christ in the global poor has offered such a mixed message on the inclusion of LGBT Christians in its work.

As we have read the developing story, we’ve been stricken by how easy it can be to overlook the lives of real people in favor of combatting an ideology one might perceive as threatening–and in most situations, that goes equally for liberals and conservatives. We’ve read a number of posts in the blogosphere that suggest the decision for faith-based charities to hire people in same-sex marriages would endanger a broader Christian theology of marriage. We’ve read others that claim World Vision’s reversal is unchristian because it shows compassion for the poor (at least in terms of wooing donors back) at the expense of the LGBT community. While we aren’t going to pick an argument with those who hold these positions, we will say that we find it troubling how often Christians fail to see people as creations beloved by God rather than “enemies” or “allies.” We are grieved for the thousands of children who lost sponsors as a result of reactions to World Vision’s original announcement, the unknown number of LGBT Christians denied the opportunity to serve Christ by serving the poor via World Vision or similar charities, and a worldwide Church that is in such desperate need of peace and healing.

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