"In God I Trust and No Other." So Then, "Who Is This God We Trust?" Part 1/2

To say "we trust in God" is a nice sentiment but then again what kind of G/god is meant by this declaration? For example, Presidential nominee Ted Cruz says he trusts in God but I would not trust in his God. His is a God of violence. Businessman and presidential nominee Donald Trump also says he trusts God but then again this G/god seems to be graven out of Trump's own image.

Lutherans trust God, so do Mennonites and Anabaptists. Christian Reformed and Baptists trust God. But each of these (doctrinal) pictures of God contain something that expresses that religious group's societal values which may or may not be biblical.

The KKK trusts G/god but would you trust this G/god? I wouldn't. Neither did the blacks whom they oppressed and murdered.

The atheist has no G/god to trust but perhaps s/he is being led on a faith path to discover the real G/god and not a mimetic image of an intolerable G/god the conservative church speaks so often of? A God of wrath and judgment both in this life and its hellish outcome should you not be part of the "chosen elect." Certainly this is no God of mine.

So the, let's ask the question again. It's not whether "we trust God" but what kind of God we are trusting in. I'm always glad to hear the faithful expressing trust in God. But there must always be room in the faithful's lectionary to examine what kind of G/god they have graven. Especially during political seasons where politians love mom, babies, apple pie, and G/god.

More simply said, that God must picture Jesus. Anything less is not a biblical G/god but a G/god that is a mimetic image of ourselves. Or of a bible we have distorted and abused.

R.E. Slater

February 2, 2016

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Donald Trump and a Tale of Two Gospels

http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/donald-trump-gospel-liberty

by Rachel Held Evans

January 28, 2016

As Rev. Saturnia said, the words of Jesus tend to

“comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.”

As it becomes clear Donald Trump’s candidacy for president will be more than a sideshow this year, the probable Republican nominee is making his pitch to Christian voters. 

You would think it would be a hard sell given the fact that the real estate mogul and reality star has boasted about his extramarital affairs, profited off casinos and strip clubs, said he doesn’t need to ask God for forgiveness, called for targeting innocent civilians in war, mocked a reporter with a disability, threatened the religious liberty of minority groups in the U.S., and gained wide support among white nationalists for consistently lying about and demeaning blacks, Mexican immigrants, Muslims, and Syrian refugees. 

But polls show that despite all of this, Trump remains favored among evangelical voters. After speaking at Liberty University last week, Trump scored an important endorsement from Jerry Falwell Jr., a prominent leader of the Religious Right who, to the applause of thousands, compared Trump to Jesus and Martin Luther King, Jr. 

Despite what the polls say, I personally don’t know a single evangelical Christian who considers Trump a model Christian. His scant church attendance and clumsiness at citing Scripture have not gone unnoticed here in the Bible Belt. Russell Moore of the Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention has been an outspoken voice against evangelical alignment with Trump, and I’ve found his righteous incredulity over Trump’s religious pandering refreshing. 

Yet Falwell’s support is hardly isolated, and I suspect if Trump is the nominee, he will continue to find even more of it from the Religious Right (which I designate as a subset of a broader and more diverse evangelicalism). Despite about a million think-pieces on the topic, the reasons are not that mysterious. Racism and xenophobia remain powerful forces in our country, as does celebrity worship, and white Christians aren't as immune from these influences as they like to think.

Indeed, a quick study of history shows the origins of Liberty University and the Religious Right lie not in their opposition to abortion (that came later), but rather in their opposition to racial integration. Trump’s message mirrors several postures that have characterized the Religious Right from the beginning: 1) a glorified nostalgia for the past (“make America great again!” “America was once a Christian nation!”) that minimizes the historical suffering of women and minority groups in this country, 2) an overwrought persecution complex that confuses sharing civil rights with others with being persecuted by them, and 3) a persistent fear of the perceived “other”—Muslims, LGBT people, immigrants, refugees, etc.—that results in culture wars meant to “take back” the public square. Trump’s promise that “everyone will say Merry Christmas” when he’s president appeals to those who think being wished “happy holidays” by a store clerk is a form of religious oppression (and who apparently remain unconcerned about how Trump's mandate will be enforced upon those of other faiths). Both the Trump campaign and the Religious Right movement begin with the assumption that things were better in this country when the culture was dominated by white Christian men and that things will get better if white Christian men are freed from the burden of “political correctness” and restored to dominance once again. 

But perhaps the most tantalizing of Trump’s pitches to the Religious Right, and the one with broadest appeal, is his promise to protect their power.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” he told a crowd in Sioux Center, Iowa, “I get elected president, we’re going to be saying ‘merry Christmas’ again…And by the way, Christianity will have power…because if I’m there, you’re going to have somebody representing you very, very well.”

This is the gospel of Donald Trump, his “good news” to Christian voters: Stick with me and you’ll be a winner. Stick with me and I’ll give you power, protection, prestige. 

It’s also the very thing Satan promised Jesus when he tempted him in the desert.

“I will give you power and authority over all the kingdoms of the world,” Satan said, “it has been given to me and I can give it to anyone I want to.” 

While Jesus resisted the allure of power and privilege, it has long been a snare to his followers, and the Religious Right sold its soul long ago. Its support of Trump proves once again it will do anything to protect its power, even if it means baptizing as anointed a candidate whose rhetoric and actions contradict any sane understanding of what Christianity is about. 

Trump’s sloppy citations of Scripture are accepted by many at Liberty University because, as an arm of the Religious Right, the school’s primary function is political, not religious. The Bible is harvested for a few conservative sound bites, Jesus reduced to an object of veneration whose death saves but whose life and teachings remain inconsequential. When power is the end game, faithfulness bows to political expediency.

Another Gospel…

After his pep rally at Liberty, Trump was flying high, claiming with his usual hyperbolic flourish that Christians just LOVE him.

…And then he made the critical mistake of actually walking into a church.

Last Sunday, Trump took a break from the campaign trail to surprise the congregation of First Presbyterian Church in Muscatine, Iowa with a visit to their regular morning service. 

[See “Donald Trump Accidentally Sat Through A Sermon About Welcoming Immigrants”]

Now understand, as a liturgical Mainline Protestant congregation, First Presbyterian Church follows the Revised Common Lectionary, which means the Scriptural passages for the service and sermon are determined years in advance. Had Trump wandered into my church—St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Cleveland, Tennessee—that morning, he would have encountered the very same texts. Thousands of congregations around the world—from Lutherans to Anglicans, to Presbyterians, to members of the United Church of Christ and other denominations—stick with this calendar as a way of pulling the days’ focus around a common theme. Nothing about the service would have changed just because Trump walked through the door...(well except maybe the tension in the room!)

The first Scripture reading that morning came from 1 Corinthians 12, and at First Presbyterian Church Muscatine, was read from the The Message, an idiomatic translation by Eugene Peterson:

“But I also want you to think about how this keeps your significance from getting

blown up into self-importance. For no matter how significant you are, it is only

because of what you are a part of. An enormous eye or a gigantic hand wouldn’t

be a body, but a monster. What we have is one body with many parts, each its

proper size and in its proper place. No part is important on its own. Can you

imagine Eye telling Hand, “Get lost; I don’t need you”? Or, Head telling  Foot,

“You’re fired; your job has been phased out”?… - 1 Cor. 12

Then came the sermon, which was based on one of the most important passages of the New Testament, the one where Jesus teaches at the synagogue in Nazareth and explains exactly what his ministry is all about: 

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring

good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim

the year of the Lord’s favor.” - Luke 4

This passage from Luke 4 is a declaration of the nature and aim of the gospel—the good news—and as the next verse reveals, it nearly got Jesus thrown off a cliff. As it turns out, the kind of people Donald Trump and the Religious Right deem acceptable collateral damage in their quest for power—the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized, the hated minorities—are the very people Jesus prioritized. His life and ministry started with them and his kingdom will ultimately be realized through them. The gospel isn't about protecting power and privilege, but rather about surrendering them until God's vision of justice is fulfilled. 

As Rev. Dr. Pam Saturnia put it, “Jesus has come to proclaim freedom and healing to those who are the most unloved, who are the most discriminated against, the most forgotten in our community and in our world. Jesus has come to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor on the teenagers who are homeless, on the Syrian refugees, on the Mexican migrants, and the people who find themselves prisoners of addiction and their families, on the poorest of the poor in Haiti — Jesus has come for them.” 

After the service, Trump seemed a little defensive, wondering aloud to the press if the Corinthians passage was directed at him, (“I have more humility than people think,” he said), and arguing, “I want to take care of all people but with Syrians, we just can’t do it here.”

But contrary to Trump’s prevailing worldview, this event had not in fact been orchestrated around him. The man had simply stepped into a big ole’ pile of actual gospel and immediately realized it contradicted everything he stands for. 

In contrast to Liberty University's convocation service, this church was a place where Scripture was quoted at length and in context, where the words of Jesus were honored and heeded, and where the vanities of a racist billionaire were challenged rather than coddled for the sake of financial and political gain. Kudos to Rev. Saturnia for sticking with the prophetic word God had given for that day and not cowering or compromising because it might offend one of the most powerful men in the world. 

Donald Trump had an encounter with the gospel of Jesus Christ and rather than propping him up, it made him uncomfortable…as tends to happen with anyone who is actually paying attention, myself included. 

When I left evangelicalism for a Mainline church, I was teased by some evangelicals who informed me I’d picked the losing team. They reminded me that Mainline churches like my Episcopal church in Tennessee and First Presbyterian Church in Mascatine, Iowa, are losing members at faster rates than evangelical churches are losing them. I’d jumped the evangelical ship, the said, for nothing but a capsizing lifeboat.

They aren’t entirely wrong. We Mainliners don’t fill many mega-church buildings these days, and our pastors don’t typically write bestselling “biblical diet” books or get quoted on CNN. But what these critics fail to understand is I don’t go to church to be with a bunch of “winners." I go to church to be with the people of God, people transformed by the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

Sure, the “good news” of safety, popularity, and political power is more appealing to the masses, but it’s not the good news Jesus preached. Not by a long shot. No one ever said the fruit of the Spirit is money, success, or political power. Rather, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control - qualities that can be found in all types of communities be they conservative or liberal, evangelical or Mainline Protestant, big or small. Getting lots of people to go to church (or to attend a convocation/ political rally) isn’t the same as making disciples of Jesus Christ, and Christian leaders would do well to remember the difference. 

As Rev. Saturnia said, the words of Jesus tend to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” 

Last Sunday, those words were enough to make one of the most powerful men in the country squirm. How’s that for being politically incorrect?

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Photo: screenshot from TedCruz.org 

God Is Not on Cruz Control

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/storiedtheology/2016/02/02/god-is-not-on-cruz-control/

by J. R. Daniel Kirk

February 2, 2016

Comments

"The cross is the end to God’s supposed affirmation of our power structures through the

installation of God’s chosen within them. The cross is the beginning of a power that can

only and always look like weakness. It can only look like defeat. It is almost possible to say

that if we want to be sure we know where God is not, then we should look to the one

wearing the victor’s crown, [the Roman crown of victory, not the Jesus crown of shame,

of ministry to the despised, to the powerless, the oppressed.]" - JRDK / [RES]

Blogsphere confessional: despite my thick skin when it comes to what some might consider infringing on the holiness of God, I turned off my T.V. last night. I was terrified by the blasphemy that was reaching my daughter’s ears.

Perhaps the only thing more incongruous to the identity of God than a pro athlete giving all the credit to God for a victory is a politician affixing God’s divine providence to a political victory. “To God be the glory,” proclaimed Cruz. A sentiment that I can get behind–for all the great things that God has done.

But the blasphemous coincidence of God’s glorious action and Cruz’s garnering a plurality of the vote in Iowa must never be our song of praise.

Getting the Story Wrong

At the risk of overgeneralizing, here is my basic assessment of American politicians who attempt to infuse their campaigns with divinity:

"The glory that they see coming to them from God’s hand, and the glory they see as

God’s shiny reflection in an exceptional America, are completely antithetical to the

identity  of God as made known in the story of Jesus Christ." - JRKK

The greatest trap in which Christians become ensnared is the trap of thinking that the God whose power gives us all life is the same god whose power is reflected in earthly measures of greatness.

We have a primal instinct to look for God by looking “up.” We look up to the pastors and assume that they are closer to God. In earlier generations we constructed great chains of being through which we looked up to the kings and angels who stood between us and God. We look up to the country in power (if it’s our own!) and assume that here, if anywhere, rests the hand of the Almighty.

We hear the powerful sermon and assume that the gifted rhetoric is the gift of preaching. We learn of a doctoral degree and assume that academic attainment reflects the gift of knowledge.

We assume, in other words, that the power structures of our world are instituted to tell the divine story and reflect the divine glory.

And when we give ourselves to these assumptions (as we all have at times), we deny the gospel story and the God who is made known through it.

The story of Jesus makes known to us the identity of the Christian God. If you’re not Christian, that’s fine, your G/god can have some other identity. But for those of us who proclaim that the Lord over all is none other than the Crucified, it is blasphemous to align God with the worldly glory of political victory.

In 1 Corinthians Paul is dealing with a similar problem: people being drawn to the wise and powerful. And so he retells the story of the cross: Christ crucified is weakness to the Jew and foolishness to the Greek. The glory of God, in other words, is hidden in suffering and death.

Whereas every fiber of our being yearns to see God by looking “up,” the cross of Christ teaches us that the only way to see God is by looking “down.” Down to the pierced and trampled. Down to the loser.

The wisdom of God is not the wisdom of the rulers of this age. If the rulers of this age understood the wisdom of God, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.

In the dark and shameful history of the church we have sinned at times by so associating the Jews with Jesus’ death that they have been labeled “Christ killers.” Perhaps it would be better for us to affix this label to every ruler, every king, every president, every senator. These are the embodiments of the rule of the rulers of this age. These are the ones who “crucified the Lord of glory.”

Indeed, Cruz himself rested his victory on the most powerful force we have: not the hand of God, but the clamor of the people. The crowds. (NB: at this point one returns to the Gospel stories to see how well things turn out if we follow the whims of the crowds. Spoiler: I think we end up chanting at the seat of Pontius Pilate.)

So yes, to God be the glory–and that is a glory that comes when the Ted Cruzes and Hillary Clintons and Donald Trumps and Barak Obamas and Bernie Sanderses have their work exposed as the glory of the darkness that the shining light overcomes, the glorying in death that gets shown up for shame when resurrection life triumphs.

Not God’s Messiah

The point in Cruz’s speech where I threw up in my mouth a little bit was when he cited Psalm 30:5 (with a King James lisp for good measure): “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”

That was his promise. For those who have been sore oppressed by eight long years of Obama’s presidency. The millions who are now covered by insurance “suffering” due to the current administration have hope! God will rescue! God will deliver!

Ted Cruz is the messiah?

This script has been played out before. Or, rather, the hope that such a script would play out has quickened the hearts of many–including Jesus’ earliest followers.

They, too, knew themselves to be the beleaguered victims of years of malfeasance.

They, too, knew themselves to have had their freedoms and rights curtailed by years of distant, federalized rule that made no allowances for what was rightfully theirs.

They, too, knew themselves to be the rightful recipients of God’s promised deliverance–the morning of joy after the long night of weeping.

But the disciples’ yearnings were thwarted. Not the true, deepest longings for redemption. But the longings for a new political day. A new political deliverer. A new power to match and displace the powers of the earth by taking their place here on earth.

Rather than a glorious victor, they were given a crucified Christ.

Rather than a revolt they were given the way of the cross.

Rather than seats of honor at Jesus’ right hand and left they were left looking at cruciform thrones on either side of Jesus as he slowly bled out.

It’s not that they, or we, or the people of Iowa, are wrong to name our grievances. It’s that the expectation of a divine deliverance that looks like the exertions of the political power of the world will not be matched in the Jesus story.

The cross is the end to God’s supposed affirmation of our power structures through the installation of God’s chosen within them. The cross is the beginning of a power that can only and always look like weakness. It can only look like defeat. It is almost possible to say that if we want to be sure we know where God is not then we should look to the one wearing the victor’s crown.

Not Without Hope

Cruz is not God’s man to save us from this hour. Neither is Ben Carson, despite the YouTube video singing his praises as such. Neither was Barak Obama. Neither is Bernie Sanders.

What, then, are we to make of our presidents within this biblical narrative of upside down power?

First, any resemblance that their policies or persons bear to the coming reign of God will be a happy accident for which we should be grateful. But it can never be one and the same. Any resemblance is God’s gracious manifestation of life out of a culture of death.

Second, most of what gains praise and accolades and votes likely requires forgiveness. Yes, it is great that we are a secure people with relatively little upsetting our peace and tranquility. And this is bought at the high price of drone strikes that kill “collateral” as indiscriminately as they kill the targeted suspects. The “peace president” is a source of terror so that we might sleep soundly.

Third, figuring out in this context how to faithfully integrate our faith with our politics is a big mess. It’s well and good to think that the Bible tells us that we should welcome the stranger. But why should that be public policy? It’s well and good to believe that we are called to turn the other cheek, but will that protect the people of this nation?

Fourth, I think I am starting to accept that the reasons I might have for being in favor of a public policy are not necessarily the reasons our nation should do something. We might need to start owning up to the difference between the reasons of religious conviction and the reasons of our faith. And then we can start to get clear on how our religious convictions can or can’t, should or shouldn’t, influence the political direction of our country.

But however we attempt this messy, awkward dance of being a country of faith-filled people and a nation led by politics, we who name Jesus as Lord have a responsibility to get our story straight.

And that begins by recognizing that ours is the story of the cross. It is the story of upside down power. It is the story of the mustard seed and of the whispered secret.

If the glory we claim in the name of Jesus is recognizable as glory to the clamoring crowds, that’s our most sure sign that the story we’re living has little to do with the Story we proclaim. That will always be the story of the crucified Christ, of the shamed crowds, and the wagging heads of mocking power.

Rachel Held Evans - Ask a (Celibate) Gay Chrisitan... Response

Ask a (Celibate) Gay Christian….Response
http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/ask-a-celibate-gay-christian-response-2

by Rachel Held Evans

October 9, 2014

Since our ongoing discussion around Matthew Vines’ book, God and the Gay Christian, has highlighted an affirming view of same-sex relationships, I wanted to make space here for another perspective. Thankfully, my new friend Julie Rodgers was quick to graciously agree to join us for another installment of our “Ask a….” series: “Ask a (Celibate) Gay Christian…” 

Julie writes about the angst of growing up gay in the church and the hope she finds in Christ's story of restoration. She blogs about all things sexuality, celibacy, community, and (mostly) flourishing on her personal blog and with friends on the Spiritual Friendship blog. Julie earned a Masters in English for the sheer pleasure of stories (nerd alert), served urban youth the past four years through a ministry in West Dallas, and recently joined the chaplain's office at Wheaton College as the Ministry Associate for Spiritual Care. She's known to laugh loud and hard at all the wrong times. Julie loves Jesus. She says she “loves that He entered into the human experience and alleviated suffering in those around Him, and that He absorbed the pain of the world with His life, death, and resurrection.” 

You asked Julie some fantastic questions.  Here are Julie's responses: 

***

Thank you, Rachel, for creating the space for me to share on your blog. Thank you also to those of you who asked thoughtful questions with a gracious spirit. Not only are your charitable spirits encouraging to me personally, but I also imagine that kind of posture calms the anxiety of silent observers who wonder if they can be honest about their sexual orientation and religious convictions, and also treated with tenderness and respect. We offer a gift to them when we’re gracious toward others in this conversation, assuring them they’ll be valued as human beings made in the image of God no matter what. 

From bperickson: Should a gay Christian committed to celibacy still come out publicly as gay? Why? What do you feel you have gained from doing so yourself?

One benefit is that the church needs more celibate gay Christian role models. They need to see gay Christians leading vibrant lives filled with intimacy, passion, and adventure. I know when I first envisioned a life of celibacy, I got an image of the future version of myself as a lonely old woman knitting in a cold cabin with famished cats everywhere. Part of the reason the future looked so bleak was because I couldn’t look to many others who were living into compelling stories as celibate men and women, and the future story the church imagined for me hinged on marriage. We need more celibate gay Christians to help the church imagine a robust life for single men and women, with an expectation that God will surprise us with His faithfulness.  

I can’t speak to what everyone should do since one’s sexuality is so personal and each situation so unique, but I would at least encourage people to open up to their inner circle. I felt strangled by shame during every stage of coming to terms with my sexuality (when I first acknowledged my orientation and then again after extensive involvement with Exodus International). “Coming out” simply meant I invited others into a corner of my heart that whispered lies that no one would love me if they really knew me. When they embraced me in that place I felt like I could finally breathe. I went from feeling isolated and unknown to believing intimate relationships were a real possibility for me. 

There are still countless misconceptions about gay people in the church. Many still don’t realize this group of people they perceive as “those people out there” are actually in here, in the church, seeking to love the Lord with all our hearts, minds, souls, and strength. When I was a teenager, I felt like I had to either lie about my sexuality or leave the church altogether. Encountering other gay Christians gave me hope that I could work out my questions about sexuality inside the church—in the context of a loving Christian community—instead of lying or leaving. Also, I’m not sure we can know or feel God’s love if we don’t experience His love through His people. When I shared more of myself with other Christians and was embraced in that place, I thought: “If they know all about me and still love me, maybe God still loves me, too.”

From Guest: Like most churches in America, my church is generally made up of families. How can a church be sensitive to the needs of a person who has embraced celibacy?

The short answer: Consider inviting a celibate person to live with you (short term or long), have single people over for dinner on a regular basis (while your house is still messy and your dishes still dirty), and establish normal rhythms together like running errands or ordering takeout or watching Breaking Bad again. 

The longer answer: It seems like most of us tend to roll with people in similar life stages, and all of us would benefit from breaking out of those categories to build relationships that cross common barriers: age, race, sex, or marital status, among others. As a celibate woman observing families from the outside, it often seems like folks are solely focused on their own nuclear families. The relationships they do have outside of that are those they encounter in their natural circles: other soccer families or church families or PTA friends. While we all miss out when we lack diversity in our relationships, single people—particularly older single people—feel the blow badly. Let’s be real: celibacy isn’t considered a super sexy lifestyle. Few people choose it because the misconceptions cause people to feel they’ll be destined for a life devoid of love. This means there comes a time when only a small number of people share their life situation, so they actually WILL end up alone if we don’t intentionally step outside of our homogeneous circles.  

When we settle into our separate pockets of society, our relational lives start to look like scheduling an event a week or two out, where we meet up and tell others about the life we’ve lived over the weeks that have passed. What we long for, though, is everyday intimacy where we can put on our fat clothes and think out loud with one another without editing ourselves. In order for that to happen, we need to spend time together in the common routines of life. Both families and single people would benefit from this.

One example: I’m new here to Wheaton and I’ve developed a friendship with a young family that welcomed me when I first arrived, providing a room for me in their home while I searched for a permanent place to land. Just this past week, the mom was sick and the dad stayed home from work in hopes of keeping the kids alive for another day. As I was getting off work, they shot me a text asking if I could do something—anything!—to help them make it through the day, and it was no problem for me to show up at their house with frozen pizzas, ice cream, and wine. Then I helped the kids with their nightly routine and we all decompressed together: everyday intimacy. 

From Christina: How do you feel that your decision to be celibate affects your relationship with gay friends who have not made the same decision?

Each relationship is unique so it varies from person to person, but my friends and I tend to see a whole human being when we look at each other rather than just a “GAY” or a “SIDE A GAY” or a “SIDE B GAY”. I also tend to be drawn to those who seek to be gracious and humble, so whenever differences arise we’re able to acknowledge the tension of our different beliefs without feeling personally threatened by one another. Most gay Christians have been deeply scarred by the culture war, and most of us barely held onto our faith (many barely remained alive), so we’re pretty understanding of one another’s need for a lot of space and grace as we grow in our understanding of what it means to honor the Lord with the whole of our lives (including our sexuality). 

From Danner: I believe a person's sexuality is an integral aspect of who he or she is as a human being. Unlike my preference for black coffee vs. lattes, my sexual identity (and sexual relationship with my wife) is a very significant aspect of who I am as a person… Do you disagree with the assertion that sexuality is integral to the identity, and what are your thoughts on why God created you as a gay woman while forbidding you to ever live that out in a relationship with another woman?

I don’t know how integral one’s sexuality is to his or her identity (perhaps it varies from person to person, depending on the weight each person gives it). I believe my sexuality matters in the same way I believe it matters that I’m a woman or that I’m an introvert: they affect how I exist in the world and how I relate to other people. What’s most important to me with regard to my identity though—what I choose to give the most weight—is my faith. The deepest part of who I am is a follower of Christ who’s been rescued by Him, and the Bible informs my understanding of why I’m here and what I’m to be about. I might see through a slightly different lens because of my orientation, but it seems the Lord uses all the different parts of me—including my sexuality—to write a unique story of restoration that creates a little more beauty in the world. 

I don’t have a strong opinion about why some people are gay: research implies both biology and the developmental process likely influence a person’s orientation, and the extent to which one is more influential than the other probably differs from person to person, as sexuality is so layered and complex. I’m more comfortable saying, “God allowed me to have a gay orientation.” 

Regardless, I do not believe He wants me to be alone. We’re wired for intimacy, and while we can live without sex, we cannot live without intimacy. The more we celebrate sustained, non-sexual, sacrificial relationships in our society, the less people will feel like the only way to experience love and intimacy is in the context of a marriage or a sexual relationship. It would also be helpful if Christians would resist the urge to hit the “panic” button whenever gay people experience deep affection for those of the same sex. As a young person, I was so concerned about the “risk” of relationships turning sexual that I erred on the side of suppression and isolation (which leads to destructive explosions). It was so life-giving to exhale and move away from a fear-based approach, choosing instead to be more concerned about the risks of isolation. That has enabled me to actually remain chaste for years because my needs for intimacy are met through rich relationships with both men and women, which didn’t happen when I was disconnected out of fear. We were made for relationships, and we can work out what it means to be healthy, whole, Christ-honoring men and women in the context of relationship.  

From Rachel P.:  have you ever been in love? How did it go? And supposing that your views on celibacy will not change, is being with someone romantically (perhaps someone else committed to celibacy) a viable option for your future?

While I’ve certainly felt the butterflies for a few women, I’m not sure I can say I’ve experienced the sustained and mutual affection that’s necessary for love to really take root. It seems like true love is discovered over time with another person, and since my relationships with women are directed toward friendship, perhaps my experience of love is shaped and informed by that end. There’s much more to explore there, but if I ever do experience a sustained and mutual intensity of attraction that feels overwhelming, I hope I’ll find a way to express it through intimate friendship. 

Sharing life with other people is important to me. I would love to end up in a communal living situation with solid folks who are married, single, gay, straight, and devoted to living into the New Testament’s vision of community and hospitality. I’m also entirely committed to having an extra room for down-and-out little hooligans to crash when they need a safe space to land (read: potential foster care or at least a place for hurting teens to belong). 

From Joshua: Do you ever feel like your personal struggles and decisions are being used as a tool by those on one side or the other in the debates concerning same sex relationships, and if so, what would you want those people using your decisions to advance their causes to know or consider?

Yes, and I’m very uncomfortable with that, particularly when it’s used to shame those who, for one reason or another, are in a different place. I see this as less of a Gay Debate Problem and more of a Human Problem though: we play the comparison game in almost every area of life and it inflates egos, breeds feelings of inferiority, or causes jealousy (among other terrible ways of internalizing the comparison culture). 

If it’s not in the context of the comparison game though, I do think it can be encouraging for people to connect with others who share their experience. I know it’s been life-giving for me to connect with celibate gay Christians because I felt so alone for so long. Even beyond the sexuality conversation, it’s encouraging for me to observe those who lead faithful lives—to learn from their examples, both positive and negative. I think we need role models, but a role model is very different than a story that’s used to shame or coerce someone else. 

Ultimately, I hope Christians will simply point people to Christ as our example. It’s been my experience that the more I’m captured by the beauty of the Gospel, the less I’m concerned about what will or won’t happen in every area of my life, including my sexuality and future relationships. I didn’t choose this path because of someone else’s story and I certainly didn’t choose it because others shamed me into it: I chose it because I fell in love with Jesus and this has been my response to His rescue. While these conversations are important, they’re simply not as important as people encountering the beauty of Christ’s sacrifice and experiencing His love in the deepest parts of their hearts. 

***

A big thanks to Julie for taking time out of a busy life to talk with us. Be sure to check out our series on God and the Gay Christian (See Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4) as well as the other entries in our "Ask a..." series.

See also "Why I Invite Guests With Whom I Disagree" and "The Danger of a Single Story"

Rachel Held Evans - God and the Gay Christian, Part 4

‘God and the Gay Christian’ Discussion, Part 4 - (Romans 1)
http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/god-and-gay-christian-romans-1

by Rachel Held Evans
October 9, 2014

Over the next few weeks, on Wednesdays, we will be discussing Matthew Vines’ book, God and the Gay Christian: The Biblical Case in Support of Same-Sex Relationships.  (See Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.)

I chose this particular book because I think it provides the most accessible and personal introduction to the biblical and historical arguments in support of same-sex relationships, and because Matthew is a theologically conservative Christian who affirms the authority of Scripture and who is also gay. His research is sound and his story compelling, and he’s a friend—someone I like and respect and enjoy learning from. 

(Scheduling note: Our next installment in this series will be on October 22. I’ll be on the road speaking next week and unable to moderate and participate in the conversation.) 

Today we reach a critical chapter in Matthew’s book, for it deals with one of the two New Testament texts commonly cited to oppose same-sex relationships. 

Romans 1

Perhaps the most significant passage in the debate regarding the Bible and same-sex relationships is Romans 1: 26-27, which opponents to same sex relationships often point to as a “clear” statement on the matter. 

The passage is part of the apostle Paul’s message at the opening of Romans about how “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Romans 1 focuses on how Gentiles have fallen short, and Romans 2 focuses on how Jews like himself have fallen short. (This sets up Paul’s argument that redemption for both is offered through Jesus Christ.)

According to Paul, the sins of the Gentiles are rooted in their worship of idols, which led them to indulge in vices like envy, slander, gossip, murder, arrogance, and “shameful lusts.” Here he notes: “Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones” and the men “abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another.”  

“Pau’s depiction of same-sex behavior in this passage in indisputably negative,” acknowledges Matthew. “But he also explicitly describes the behavior he condemns as lustful. He makes no mention of love, fidelity, monogamy, or commitment. So should we understand Paul’s words to apply to all same-sex relationships, or only to lustful, fleeting ones?” 

To get to the bottom if this question, we have to discern why Paul wrote what he did—the principle behind his statements. 

[Here, almost as an aside, Matthew makes a very important point: “Focusing on the reason behind biblical statements is not a new principle. Christians of all stripes ask not only what but why when we study Scripture.” He cites slavery as an example. The New Testament authors often tell slaves to submit to their masters (Titus 2:9-10, 1 Timothy 6:1-2, Colossians 3:22-25, Ephesians 6:5-9, 1 Peter 2:18-24), a point not lost on those Christians who advocated for the preservation of slavery during the Civil war. To make a case for abolition, Christians had to look beyond what appears on the surface to be an endorsement of slavery to examine why the New Testament authors wrote what they did. While Matthew doesn’t spend much time on this particular issue, this is what ultimately changed my mind about LGBT people and the Bible. The moment I realized I couldn’t win a “proof text” war with a slave-owner was the moment I realized that in discussions like these, we can’t rely on a few Bible verses pulled from their context—not when lives are at stake. But more on that at a later date…] 

So what did Paul mean when he wrote Romans 1? 

As has already been shown, same-sex relations in the first century were not thought to be the expression of an exclusive sexual orientation but were widely understood to be the product of excessive sexual desire wherein the one engaging in same-sex behavior did so out of an excess of lust that could not be satisfied. The most common forms of same-sex behavior in the Greco-Roman world, Matthew notes, were pederasty and sex between masters and their slaves, and the majority of men who indulged in those practices also engaged in heterosexual behavior with their wives. So we’re not talking about committed, monogamous, sacrificial relationships here. Not by a long shot. 

Citing the writings of Philo, Plato, and Dio Chyrysostom, Matthew notes that same-sex relations were not considered objectionable to these writers because partners shared the same anatomy, but “because they stemmed from hedonistic self-indulgence.” 

Matthew provides multiple examples of this reality (both in this chapter and others). Particularly relevant in this case is Dio Chyrysostom’s argument that some men had such insatiable sexual appetites they abandoned the “easy conquest” of women for more challenging sex with males, and John Chrysostom’s commentary on Romans 1 in which the father of the Church states: “[Paul] does not say that they were enamored of one another but that they were consumed by lust for one another! You see that the whole of desire comes from an excess which cannot be contained itself within proper limits.” 

The concept of same-sex orientation and the notion of committed same-sex relationships was simply not part of Pauls’—or these other writers’— worldview. “In Paul’s day, same-sex relations were a potent symbol of sexual excess,” writes Matthew, and so “they offered an effective illustration of Paul’s argument: We lose control when we are left to our own devices.” 

“But while that principle remains true today,” he says, “the specific example Paul drew from his culture does not carry the same resonance for us. This is not because Paul was wrong—he wasn’t addressing what we think of today as homosexuality. The context in which Paul discussed same-sex relations differs so much from our own that it cannot reasonably be called the same issue. Homosexuality condemned as excess does not translate to homosexuality condemned as an orientation—or as a loving expression of that orientation.” 

I don’t know about you, but I don't know any gay, lesbian, and bisexual Christians today who pursue same-sex relationships because they have grown tired of heterosexuality and want to try something new. The gay, lesbian, and bisexual Christians I know tell me they have experienced same-sex attractions for many years, often since childhood, and simply want to be in a committed, sacrificial relationship with someone to whom they are attracted. And Matthew's analysis of this passage, which is shared by many other biblical scholars, gives me reason to believe Romans 1 isn't speaking about them.

Unnatural – like long hair 

So what about the words “natural” and “unnatural”? Wouldn’t they suggest that Paul, like so many who crudely argue the case today, condemned same-sex behavior because the “parts don't fit?” 

Matthew again returns to what no good biblical scholar would dispute: that many of the gender roles alluded to in Scripture are rooted in patriarchy. In the ancient world, if a man took the active role in a sexual encounter, his behavior wad generally deemed “natural.” If he took the passive role, he was derided for engaging in “unnatural” sex for supposedly playing the role of a woman. The opposite was true for women: sexual passivity was deemed “natural,” while dominance was “unnatural.” 

Once again, Matthew cites multiple ancient authors, including Philo, Plato, and Josephus, to show how the terms “natural” and “unnatural” were used in ancient writings. “They were not synonyms for ‘straight’ and ‘gay,’” he concludes.  “They were boundary markers between what did and did not conform to customary gender roles within a patriarchal context…In societies that viewed women as inferior, sexual relationships between equal-status partners could not be accepted. Same-sex unions in particular disrupted a social order that required strict hierarchy between the sexes. We see this hierarchy reflected in Romans 1 by the use of the phrase ‘their women’ in verse 26, which points to the subordinate role of women in ancient times.” 

This doesn’t mean Paul himself was sexist, Matthew argues, particularly given his high praise of women throughout his epistles. But it could mean he simply invoked the terms “natural” and “unnatural” as a shorthand reference to what the ancient world would have understood as a violation of accepted cultural norms regarding gender roles, motivated by excessive, unctrolled lust. 

Here is where Matthew makes one of his best points of the book, one that I particularly resonated with given my own experience with head coverings during my year of biblical womanhood. 

The apostle Paul makes the very same appeal to “natural” and “unnatural,” in the context of gender roles, when he argues that women should wear head coverings: “Judge for yourself,” he writes, “Is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head uncovered? Does not the very nature of things teach you that if a man has long hair, it is a disgrace to him, but that if a woman has long hair it is her glory?” (I Corinthians 11:13-15)

“Nature” and “disgrace”—these are the very same words Paul uses when discussing same sex behavior in Romans 1:26-27! And yet most Christians today do not read 1 Corinthians 11 as a universal dictum regarding God’s design for hairstyles and head coverings. 

Citing Jim Brownson’s scholarship on the topic, Matthew notes that these norms regarding hair length, head coverings, and hierarchal gender roles were rooted in the honor-shame cultures of the Mediterranean, where violating them could do serious harm to the spreading of the Gospel. 

Concludes Matthew: “For Paul, same-sex desire did not characterize a small minority of people who were subject to special classification—and condemnation—on that basis. Rather, it represented an innate potential for excess within all of fall humanity.” 

He cites fifth century Christian bishop Julian of Eclanum who interpreted Romans 1 as a contrast of those who make “right use” of sexual desire with those who “indulge in the excess of it.” For Julian, the moral of Romans 1 is that “he who observes moderation in natural [desire] uses a good thing well; but he who does not observe moderation abuses a good thing.” 

This is a takeaway that applies to all readers of the text—gay or straight.

***

Also, if you want to learn more about the Bible and sexuality, check out the Reformation Project conference in Washington D.C., November 6-8. Speakers include David Gushee, Allyson Robinson, Gene Robinson, Justin Lee, Jane Clementi, Danny Cortez, Frank Schaefer, James Brownson, Kathy Baldock, Alexia Salvatierra, and Amy Butler.

***

Questions for Discussion: 

1. What do you think of this interpretation of Romans 1? If it is not a condemnation of people who are gay, lesbian, or bisexual, what might be the message? What can we learn from it? 

2. This study has shown the degree to which patriarchal assumptions affected so much of what was considered "shameful" and "unnatural" in the ancient world. How do we continue to relate to Scripture as inspired and authoritative, even when it reflects these (and other) cultural norms that no longer apply today? 

Rachel Held Evans - God and the Gay Christian, Part 3

'God and the Gay Christian' Discussion, Week 3
http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/god-gay-christian-old-testament

by Rachel Held Evans
October 2, 2014

Over the next few weeks, on Wednesdays, we will be discussing Matthew Vines’ book, God and the Gay Christian: The Biblical Case in Support of Same-Sex Relationships. (See Part 1& Part 2.)

I chose this particular book because I think it provides the most accessible and personal introduction to the biblical and historical arguments in support of same-sex relationships, and because Matthew is a theologically conservative Christian who affirms the authority of Scripture and who is also gay. His research is sound and his story compelling, and he’s a friend—someone I like and respect and enjoy learning from. 

Today we finally begin our discussion of those biblical texts often used to condemn same-sex relationships. These six passages (a remarkably small percentage of Scripture as a whole) are sometimes referred to as “clobber passages.” Drawing from the work of biblical scholars, most notably James Brownson, Matthew looks at the context, language, and historical background of these passages to conclude that the Bible does not directly address the issue of same-sex orientation or the expression of that orientation. “While is six references to same-sex behavior are negative,” writes Matthew, “the concept of same-sex behavior in the Bible is sexual excess, not sexual orientation” and so these passages do not apply to gay, lesbian, or bisexual Christians in committed same-sex relationships.  Our focus for this discussion is on the Old Testament texts. Next week we will move on to the New Testament texts. 

The Real Sin of Sodom 

Given the vast and obvious disparity between the gang rape scene of Genesis 19 and those gay, lesbian, and bisexual people seeking to enter into committed, sacrificial relationships with one another, it still surprises me that the story of Sodom and Gomorrah is used to condemn same-sex orientation and relationships. And yet it remains a favorite among those who protest against “Sodomites” outside courthouses and even churches these days. 

If you are unfamiliar with the story, check out Genesis 18 and Genesis 19 (and prepare for a potential faith crisis—there’s a very weird bit about a pillar of salt which, as a child, left me frightened to look out the back window of our car lest I share the fate of Lot’s wife). Matthew wisely includes Genesis 18 in his analysis because the story of Abraham and Sarah welcoming the mysterious strangers into their home is meant to stand in contrast to the actions of the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, who rather than welcoming the mysterious strangers, threatened to gang rape them. The author of Hebrews makes the connection, writing “Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing, some people have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2). 

“The sin of Sodom,” writes Matthew, “had far more to do with a lack of hospitality and a bent toward violence than with any sexual designs the men had on Lot’s visitors.”  

Throughout Hebrew Scripture, and particularly in the prophets, the evils of Sodom are referenced as a way of reminding the people of Israel to avoid falling into the same ways. (If you’re reading Enns’ The Bible Tells Me So right now, you’re probably making some fun connections here.) The prophet Ezekiel offers the most detailed description of the city’s sins, declaring, “Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me…” (Ezekiel 16:49-50, emphasis mine). 

When was the last time you heard the “Sodomite” slur hurled at someone for overeating, indulgence, arrogance, and disregard for the poor? Hits a bit too close to home for most Christians, I guess. 

Sexuality goes unmentioned, both in the Ezekiel passage and in every other Old Testament reference to Sodom following Genesis 19. “If Sodom’s sin had indeed been homosexuality,” writes Matthew, “it is highly unlikely that every written discussion of the city for centuries following its destruction would fail to mention that fact.”  This is true for other ancient Jewish literature as well, he argues, where Sodom’s sins are identified as arrogance, indulgence, and lack of hospitality. 

So what about the men of Sodom’s threats to gang rape Lot’s guests? 

As Matthew points out, this has nothing to do with sexual orientation or an expression of sexual desire. In the ancient world, for a man to be raped was considered the ultimate degradation, a sign of total defeat. Warriors who wanted to shame their conquered foes often raped them in order to humiliate them.“Aggression and dominance were the motives in these situations,” writes Matthew, “not sexual attraction.” 

Here Matthew compares this passage to Judges 19, where we find the gruesome and troubling story of the raped and dismembered concubine, who served as a substitute for the men of Gibeah who wanted to rape an old man’s houseguests. In both stories, hosts wishing to protect the male guests offer women—essentially considered property at the time—to the mob instead, which goes to show that this was not about sexual preference, but about violence and domination. It also goes to show how badly women suffered in this patriarchal culture. Notes Matthew: “Neither Lot nor the old man of Gibeah said, ‘Don’t do anything to these men, because that would be a same-sex act.’ Instead, they both expressed concern that the visitors had come under the protection of their homes. The men were their guests and the ‘sacred duty’ of hospitality…was paramount.” 

[Pause here to consider the wisdom of appealing to any of these stories for our sexual ethics…Sorry. Couldn’t help it. Carry on. ]

But what about New Testament references to Sodom in Matthew 10:15, Luke 10:10-12, 2 Peter 2:7, and Jude 7? 

Only the latter two passages make reference to Sodom’s sexual sins. Jude 7 says the people of Sodom and Gomorrah “indulged in gross immorality and went after stranger flesh.” But rather than referring to same-sex relationships, the phrase “strange flesh” seems to refer to the attempts to rape angels instead of humans. Jude 6 supports this connection by comparing Sodom’s transgressions with the unusual sins described in Genesis 6 where angels mate with human women. 

It was the Jewish philosopher Philo who first explicitly linked Sodom’s sins to same-sex behavior, and his idea caught on. But Philo was operating from ancient assumptions regarding same-sex behavior, Matthew argues, and therefore condemning the actions of the men of Sodom as the excessive pleasure-seeking of men who could also be satisfied with women. “He was not taking a position on the issue we are facing today,” writes Matthew, “gay people and their committed relationships.” 

The Abominations of Leviticus 

Even though it was decided in the Council of Jerusalem that Gentile Christians are not bound to Scripture’s Levitical law, discussions continue to this day regarding how those texts apply to followers of Jesus. Often cited in the discussion regarding same-sex relationships are Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13, which describe same-sex behavior between males as an “abomination” punishable by death.  

© 2013 Breville USA, Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio

It’s easy to forget just how many of these laws are disregarded by Christians without much thought. Leviticus 3 and 11, for example, forbid eating animal fat or blood, shellfish, and animals that walk on all fours and have paws—all of which are denounced as “abominations,” along with having sexual relations during a woman’s period, and charging interest on loans. 

As Matthew points out, in the vast majority of cases, the word “abomination” (typically the Hebrew, toevah, which is used in Leviticus 18 and 20) refers to what the Israelites associated with the idolatrous practices of the Gentiles, leading Old Testament scholar Phyllis Bird to conclude that “it is not an ethical term, but a term for boundary making,” with “a basic sense of taboo.” Many other biblical scholars share this view, which helps make sense out of why eating shellfish and charing interest on loans might have been considered taboo to the ancient Israelites, but not Christians today. “So while ‘abomination’ is a negative word,” Matthew says, “it doesn’t necessarily correspond to Christian views of sin.” 

Furthermore, you can’t get very far in reading Leviticus or Deuteronomy before you notice laws regarding rape, marriage, menstruation, and women-as-property make it very hard to argue that while Old Testament laws related to diet no longer apply, Old Testament laws regarding sexuality do.  In addition, there are no condemnations of either polygamy or concubinage, which are in fact assumed within the text. 

Another argument that falls short is the argument that the severe punishment for male same sex behavior—the death penalty—suggests it was and is a more serious sin. We can’t forget that disobedient children were also to be stoned, along with a people who used the Lord’s name in vain and those who violated the Sabbath. Daughters of priests who fell into prostitution were to be burned alive, and in Exekiel 18:13, the death penalty is applied to anyone who charges interest on a loan.

Gender Complementarity 

But the most important point Matthew makes in these two chapter isn’t about Old Testament law and its many abominations. His most important point concerns gender complementarity: 

“Non-affirming Christians who want to make the most persuasive arguments ground their case in the idea that Leviticus banned male same-sex relations because same-sex unions violate gender complementarity…So as we read these ancient texts, we need to keep this question in mind: Do these writings suggest that same-sex unions are wrong because of the anatomical ‘sameness’ of the partners involved? Or is the primary concern a different issue?"

Here Matthew points again to the work of Philo, whose views on sexuality reflect how it was understood in his time. According to Philo, the great crime of male same-sex behavior—pederasty, specifically—was that males would “suffer the affliction of being treated like a women” which Philo referred to as “the greatest of evils, unmanliness and effeminacy.” This posture is reflected widely in many of the writings from the world from which Scripture emerged. 

In the ancient world, deeply misogynistic attitudes were the norm. Same-sex behavior between males was rejected because women were considered inferior to men and it was considered degrading for a man to be “treated” like a woman.  In addition, it was believed that men who engaged in same-sex behavior did so out of an abundance of out-of-control passions, not because of fixed sexual orientation. 

This understanding sheds light on why Leviticus contains no parallel prohibition of female same-sex relations. “If the issue were anatomical complementarity,” Matthew argues, “female same-sex relations should be condemned on an equal basis. And yet, the text is silent on this matter…The entire question of how bodies fit together doesn’t seem to be on the radar. The concern we see is centered around the proper ordering of gender roles in a patriarchal society.” 

In light of this reality regarding patriarchy, Matthew advocates what some might call a “redemptive movement hermeneutic” regarding gender, suggesting that while Scripture reflects a patriarchal culture, it still grants women more honor and value than many of Israel’s counterparts and ultimately points to gender mutuality through the redemptive work of Christ.  In other words, we can accept Scripture as authoritative and true without accepting the patriarchal assumptions of the culture from which the Bible emerged. 

Frankly, I’ve never found arguments against same-sex relationships from these Old Testament texts particularly persuasive, and I suspect that if these were the only passages in question, there might be more unity of thought within the Christian community. What seems to trip most people up are references to same-sex behavior in the New Testament, to which we will turn our conversation next week.

***

Also, if you want to learn more about the Bible and sexuality, check out the Reformation Project conference in Washington D.C., November 6-8. Speakers include David Gushee, Allyson Robinson, Gene Robinson, Justin Lee, Jane Clementi, Danny Cortez, Frank Schaefer, James Brownson, Kathy Baldock, Alexia Salvatierra, and Amy Butler.

***

Questions for Discussion 

1.    How have these texts—the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and the laws of Leviticus—affected your understanding of the Bible and same-sex relationships? Do they factor in to your understanding or are the New Testament texts your focus? What do you think of Matthew’s argument? 

2. Throughout God and the Gay Christian we see how patriarchy and ancient understandings of gender roles affected how same-sex behavior is referenced in Scripture. How does this affect your overall view of Scripture and how it should be interpreted regarding gender and sexuality?