When I heard the supreme court was set to rule on same-sex marriage, my stomach flipped. It's not because I was in suspense--I already had a feeling it would pass successfully, even if by a margin. It's not because the idea appalls me; afterall, I have several gay friends who have expressed their frustration over not being able to receive certain tangible or intangible benefits--ones I take for granted. The reason my stomach weirded out was because I knew that regardless of the outcome, some of the least Christlike Christians I know were going to come out full force and try to inflict damage. Even worse, I knew many of them would be successful in their attempts.
Let's get something out of the way right now... I'm a Christian, but I'm also human. That gives me this amazing potential to be a judgemental hypocrite. I excel at it sometimes, actually--to the point that a few hours later I have one of those dread "What was I THINKING?!" convos with myself. My view of myself as well as of other people is skewed at best, and changes with mood, hormones, stress level, and circumstance. So in addressing what I'm about to address, please know that this by no means makes me better than the Christians I'm criticising, because at points in my history (and most assuredly my future), I've been one of them without knowing it.
Scripture clearly expresses God's intentions for sexuality. There's no need to rehash that. But it also expresses His intentions for many other areas of life. So why do we tend to focus on one particular area and the let the rest go? Why is is that prohibition was such a big issue in the past but is hardly an issue any longer? If Christians are truly protesting gay rights because of scripture, why are they not also protesting outside of bars? Package stores? Tattoo parlours? Divorce courts? Strip joints? All of them propagate something which goes against some basic aspect of scripture.
Some of you may not know it, but I'm remarried. I've forgiven my ex, so I won't go into any of the horrid details of what lead to our divorce. Suffice it to say that when I went to a local therapist, a Christian woman who is renowned in the community for putting even the most hopeless of marriages back together, I was floored to hear her response to my telling her why I'd left him: "Amanda, I understand why. I just can't for the life of me figure out why it took you almost 3 years to do so." The prime reason was because I didn't believe in divorce. She was right--I'd waited longer than most mentally healthy people would have waited to end it given the things I'd learned were taking place.
A few months went by before I realized there was truly no hope, so I filed for divorce. Despite knowing I'd done the right thing, I found myself walking around with what felt like an invisible "D" on my chest. Many people who knew us as a couple treated me harshly, and it hurt like hell. Over the next year or two, though, I was surprised by how many of them contacted me, ran into me, or in some meaningful way reached out to say that they'd judged the situation wrong. They'd assumed we were just a young dumb couple who didn't realize how much work marriage really was. Once the problems came to light, they felt the need to apologize, some even going so far as to tell me I was welcome in their home anytime and that they hoped after everything that had happened to me that I would open my heart to love again one day. I can't adequately express how much those encounters meant to my healing. Hurting is one thing; feeling unfairly judged in the midst of that hurt is excruciating. Sadly, as I sought out a new church home, I deliberately avoided some congregations--having heard how they viewed divorcees in light of scripture's reference to it. The church family I found was lead by a divorced pastor, had gay couples, drug addicts, alcoholics, adulterers, unwed mothers, psychiatric patients, and every other manner of potential outcasts within its walls. They weren't perfect people, but I never witnessed self-righteous judgement, and never feared that they would reject Edwin as my new husband, he also being a divorcee.
It hit me about 6 months ago the cultural shift that has taken place around divorce. In our case, it's positive--it's why that acceptance took place. But what if the world around us had rejected the idea of our marriage based on scripture about divorce? How would we have felt? What benefits might we have been deprived of? What battles might we have had to fight socially? It humbled me to realize how easily the battle our gay friends fight could well have been our fight. That's what first made me start thinking about all of this.
There's something inherently different about this area--something Christians don't know how to pinpoint. Some have referenced Sodom & Gomorrah, but that's just one piece of scripture--and certainly not in the top 10 which come to mind when discussing the Bible. Some have referenced the uncomfortable recognition of same-sex attraction, which is also an instinctive, human reaction that scientists say all of us experience at some point--whether we realize it or not. Honestly, I'm not sure what it is that makes this area so unique and "worthy" of hatred. It leads us to question the condition of our hearts--that's for sure.
So where do I propose that we stand as believers? Firm on 1 Cor 13: 1-3 (If I speak
in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love,
I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have
the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I
have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give
all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may
boast,
but do not have love, I gain nothing.). And firm on Matt 22: 37-39 (Jesus replied:
“ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your
soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’). There's no reason for us to be angry or judgemental; but there's plenty of reason to love. Let me further illustrate with this:
Years ago, I interrupted a coworker in the middle of lunch regarding something he and I had worked on together. He got a strange look on his face and said "Don't judge!" defensively. I'm taken aback by this and can't logically connect it with the questions I'd just asked him. He then looks down at his lunch pointedly, so I do too. He was drinking a soft drink and eating a honeybun. This was a pretty typical lunch for him, so I didn't see the significance. He then feels the need to clarify: "You always seem to eat healthy, so I know how this must look. That's what I was referring to." At this point I share my heart: "I have areas of my life where I'm lacking--quite a few, actually. And all I know when it comes to criticising others is that scripture which talks about removing one's own plank before helping someone else with a speck. I believe that God rarely asks us to confront others when their lives/actions go against scripture. And until He tells me to--in a specific way, at a specific time, I leave that aspect of your life between you and Him. Afterall, He knows your heart, your struggles, and your motivations far better than I ever will. I've never said or even non-verbally implied that I judge you for what you eat. And unless He directs me to do otherwise, I never will." He smiled at that point and got tears in his eyes. Our working relationship improved a bit that day--knowing we'd give each other the freedom to be who we were and let God speak to us in His time, rather than judging each other.
Another eye-opening experience I had was through a friend's husband. She is one of the most beautiful spirits on this earth, and we developed our friendship over the course of time spent together in some remarkably open conversation. One day she admitted that her marriage was on the verge of ending. He was an alcoholic, and his problem was permeating every aspect of their lives--their relationships with other family members, their finances, his health, etc. A couple weeks later I meet him and am incredibly disturbed by the experience--not because he was anything less than good to meet, but because I'd formed a stereotype image in my mind of how he must be--the alcoholic that was hurting my friend so much emotionally. And that image was nothing like the man standing in front of me. I looked into his eyes and saw a spirit which mirrored my friend's--pure, loving, caring, compassionate, and good. In that instant, I realized how screwy my mental paradigm was of someone who struggled with alcohol or any other substance. I disagreed with what he was doing and prayed for him, but realized I had no reason to show him anything less than love and care in the midst of it. How he handled his problem and their marriage was ultimately between him, her, and God.
That's what I propose. Not that we love them at a distance, because I don't believe that's what Christ would have done. Not that we lie to them and say we don't believe the scriptures related to sexuality--particularly if we really do. Most importantly, not that we love them with condition--as in the little underlying hint of "I'll act loving toward you, but I know you're wrong." Rather, simply love them. That's all He's asked us to do. Even the prophets which declared pending doom back in the Old Testament all did so at God's prompting--not because they decided to key in on particular town and jump on their pedestal of judgement. But because He directly ASKED them--at a specific point in time and in a specific way. God hasn't asked me to do anything specific with regard to same-sex marriage or GLBT issues--except love. Ultimately, their choices are between them, the people they love, and God. Let's leave it at that and love unconditionally in the meantime. Let's picture what Christ would do if a gay couple walk into a church He was attending. Would he demand them to leave? Embarrass them? Engage them in debate? Glare or stare awkwardly at a distance? Would He even act loving with an undertone of judgement? I don't think so. I think He'd walk right up to them, embrace them, and worship next to them before inviting them to lunch. Until God asks us--directly asks us--to do different, why can't we as Christians do the same?
I know way too many who have been pushed away from Christ because of judgemental, hurtful attitudes. That's what's heavy on my heart. I pray I'm never the source of such pain for someone else, because at that point I'm much worse than anything I could criticise them for. When it comes to controversial issues such as this, I try hard to examine my heart--asking God to reveal the parts I might have trouble seeing. I encourage all Christians to do the same. You don't have to agree with the ruling, but you can show unconditional love--the same love we should all be showing other people whose lives depart from scripture in any number of ways--including our own. We don't have to agree with their choices. We don't have to protest the change in laws. We don't have to sort it all out mentally. All we need to do is love and do so unconditionally--His ultimate commandment.
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