My family and I moved last week. We had decided to downsize. We wanted to free up income to be more generous in the lives of others. We wanted to simplify our lives. We wanted to be more intentional in community, in our neighbourhood. Seemed like a pretty good idea ….. but then our house didn’t sell. For four months. And the market went into the toilet. And we took possession of the townhouse we’d purchased. And instead of freeing up income, it felt like we were bleeding money paying for two houses. It was really, really stressful. And there were moments where I felt like I couldn’t stand the uncertainty of it all for one more minute.
Now we are in the midst of the normal chaos that accompanies moving – trying to get settled. And you’d think that I’d feel really relieved that our house finally sold and that we’ve finally moved …. But to be honest, I still sort of feel like I’m holding my breath, still feel a little stressed and ragged around the edges. And I’m still basically just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Step-by-step. Grateful to at least be moving forward.
Change is hard. Emerging out of a season of stress and challenge is tough.
So why am I sharing all of this on this particular blog? This blog isn’t about me afterall.
But it is about honesty. It is about transparency and vulnerability and engaging in transition and growth. These things are critical if we have any hope of bridging the gap to befriend those who differ from us.
Bridging the gap requires us to stay present in the uncertainty. It requires us to be willing to be uncomfortable. It demands that we open ourselves up to change - perhaps not theological change - but attitudinal change, relational change, engagement change.
Lately, I’ve been speaking about paradigmatic change - about the shift from an old paradigm through a period of early transition to late transition into a new paradigm.
Whether we like it or not, our context is changing. The old paradigm of Christian attitudes toward homosexuality was basically black and white: "gay people are an abomination and they are going to hell". As culture began to change and gay people began to share their stories, some began to make an early transition towards a new paradigm. And some began to suggest that gay people weren’t carte blanche an abomination – there was a differentiation between orientation and behaviour. Some said gay people weren’t an abomination – but they were disordered and could be easily cured. People in Christian circles talked about choice – with the assumption that same-gender attracted people could just choose to re-order their sexuality. Transition continued, more narratives emerged – including the stories of those who unsuccessfully tried to change their orientation – and some people began to say that orientation is not chosen and not easily changed. More stories emerged of gay Christians who believed that God invited them to express their sexuality in monogamous partnerships.
In the midst of all of this transition, there has been a lot of stress. And for some, a lot of uncertainty. In general, people do not deal with stress and uncertainty very well – so there has been a lot of fear and anger too.
And whether we like it or not, we find ourselves in the midst of a new paradigm. And we live in the reality of many diverse responses.
• Some people still believe gay people are an abomination and are going to hell. Thankfully most Christians cringe at this response.
• Some people continue to believe that homosexuality is like a disease and can be easily cured – though current research does not support this.
• Some people understand that same-gender attraction is a reality that some people will live with throughout their life. They believe Scripture does not endorse same-gender sexual intimacy. They recognize that while some people experience sufficient fluidity in their sexuality to be able to authentically enter heterosexual marriage, this is not the dominant experience. For the majority of same-gender attracted people they believe that celibacy is the only God-honouring option. They may question whether anyone who holds a more gay affirming perspective is really a Christian. And they may likely have a real problem acknowledging gay Christians who are in relationship with a same-gender partner.
• Some people see the reality of same-gender attraction in people’s lives, consider God’s concern that “it is not good for man to be alone”, and seek to support sga people in experiencing healthy intimacy through non-sexual covenantal friendships or intentional communal living.
• Some people encourage gay people to be chaste until marriage (where same-sex marriage is legal) and to find and commit to a life-long partner. Some are respectful and accepting of those who hold more conservative views – some less so.
In a time of transition, it has been suggested that there is a need for a synergy among diverse responses. In the culture wars of the last generation we have seen plenty of evidence of a lack of synergy in diversity. But increasingly the next generation is impatient with this lack of synergy. Not all young people are stereotypically liberal in their theology of sexual ethics – but many are unwilling to perpetuate a sense of enmity between diverse responses.
I recently interviewed Tony Campolo for this “Bridging the Gap” project. Tony said this, “There is a multiplicity of answers to the question, and in the world that we’re moving to, we’re going to have to face that reality. I spoke at a youth convention of a very significant denomination in the US. The convention of 5000 youth were meeting simultaneously to the adults going through evaluating the rules and regulations of the church. And they came out with a very strong statement towards gays and lesbians, saying they would never accept gay marriage. Word drifted over to this youth convention, which was right next door. And they put their own statement together saying that, “We are not going to make a strong statement on this. We are going to be open to a variety of answers, and we don’t like that you have come down so strong with one answer. And the last thing we want to say is it’s not that long of a time before all of you will be dead.” Young people are not thinking the same way as the older people are on this. And they are not necessarily liberal. They are very conservative in many circles, it’s just that young people have reached a point where they see something transcending above this issue, and it’s the love for Christ that transcends that issue.”
The question as we continue to move forward, perhaps simply able to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, is: How do we bridge the gap between those we disagree with? (Because let’s face it, the multiplicity of responses isn’t going to magically go away.)
A few (incomplete) thoughts:
• Let’s be honest – this can be hard. It can be stressful. It can make us anxious. Breathe in and breathe out. Put one foot in front of the other. Stay present in the uncertainty.
• All of the tension that can accompany this transition is worth it for the sake of our gay brothers and sisters. Honouring them is more important than our own comfort (regardless of where you land on the theological spectrum).
• In times of transition we need to be reminded to represent Jesus well. Some of the harsh, fearful, critical, demeaning comments that are directed at people with whom there is a disagreement do NOT reflect the character of Christ.
• We need to take the time to really hear people – and to hear people, we need to be in relationship with people. Without relationship it is far too easy to be reactively judgmental or stuck in the theoretical.
• Being in respectful, gracious relationship with people with whom we disagree honours Christ who continually called his followers to love their enemies.
• Being in relationship with people with whom we disagree affords the opportunity for us to grow and mature in the fruits of the Spirit.
• In the midst of such paradigmatic change we have the opportunity to be like Jesus, who chose to humble himself, empty himself, divest himself of the dominant, power position …. We, too, can choose to be the servant of another – including those with whom we may disagree.
And when all of this change brings moments where we feel like we just can’t stand the uncertainty of it all for one more minute, we have the opportunity to go to the foot of the cross, gaze into the face of Jesus, rest at his feet, listen for his voice, and be filled with his love, patience, strength, courage and grace to keep moving forward – one step at a time.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Grace & Coming Out
This past Saturday was “National Coming Out Day.” Several blogs that I follow had poignant first-person accounts of the sense of relief and congruity that an individual can feel once they disclose to the people they care about the most the reality of their same-gender attraction.
For those of us who are straight, and don’t spend a whole lot of time processing, wrestling, hiding, or managing our heterosexuality, I think there will always be a gap in our understanding of what it is like to be persistently same-gender attracted – particularly within the Christian community. We might like to try to step into a gay person’s shoes – but at the end of the day – I think we can’t really fully grasp the multi-layered complexities of the process of discovery and coming out.
A few of years ago I attended a conference that gathered same-gender attracted Christians of varying perspectives. I intentionally chose to fly under the radar – to attend as a “normal Jane” (which in this situation meant that most people simply assumed I was gay). For two and a half days, I chose to set aside some of my most significant identifiers – wife, mother, New Direction leader. I found it exhausting. I had to be constantly vigilant. It took a lot of energy to watch what came out of my mouth particularly when meeting new people (which I did a lot of) – because those identifiers were so ingrained as part of my “get to know me” script. As I reflected on that conference experience, I think one of the things God wanted me to experience, albeit in a very limited fashion, was the burden of hiding significant parts of your identity. Being a wife or a mom or a ministry leader doesn’t define me, but they do describe very important parts of me. And keeping those identifiers under wraps was really hard – I felt diminished in some way – even though I was the one who had chosen to do so. God birthed a deeper empathy in me that weekend – for which I’m very grateful.
So I have a different take on “National Coming Out Day” than I used to. I’m not threatened by it anymore. I still hope that young kids don’t label themselves too prematurely. And I still pray that those who come out as gay will make wise decisions about faith, community and relationships. But I’m better prepared to understand that coming out, in and of itself, is really just about being honest, being authentic, no longer hiding.
“National Coming Out Day” coincided with a major holiday – Thanksgiving – here in Canada. That meant that when I came to the office this morning I had the opportunity to field some calls from some parents whose kids had disclosed their sexual identity to them over the weekend. Some were shell-shocked. Some had a thousand questions. Some were grieving. I’m delighted to say that none were angry or horribly freaking out (we’ve had those in the past too).
The thing about coming out is that the gay person has had years to prepare for that moment – the loved ones, even if they had some inkling in the past – may be caught off guard.
When we gather parents together for a supportive place of sharing and prayer, this is what I say:
• This is a safe place to process all the complex emotions that may come with your child’s disclosure.
• We won’t make any assumptions about you except for one: that you are here because you love your child.
• Our focus is on coming to a place of acceptance where you are free to love unconditionally and where you are best positioned to be useful to God in his pursuit of your child.
• This is NOT about:
o fixing your child
o fixing you
o theological debate
o blame or guilt
o everyone having to think alike or agree
Coming out requires grace on all sides. And grace is what we seem to have such a hard time grasping.
If you’re a pastor or a ministry leader, ask yourself, “How many people have felt safe coming out to me?” It’s a pretty good test for whether or not you embody grace.
Frankly, I wish there were other coming out days that straight people could expeirence. Because I wish there was more honesty. I wish there was more authenticity. And I wish there was more grace for the reality of the messiness that pervades all of our lives.
To the kids who came out this weekend: grace to you.
To the parents who are now processing: grace to you.
To a church still easily threatened: grace to you.
To an impatient gay community: grace to you.
For those of us who are straight, and don’t spend a whole lot of time processing, wrestling, hiding, or managing our heterosexuality, I think there will always be a gap in our understanding of what it is like to be persistently same-gender attracted – particularly within the Christian community. We might like to try to step into a gay person’s shoes – but at the end of the day – I think we can’t really fully grasp the multi-layered complexities of the process of discovery and coming out.
A few of years ago I attended a conference that gathered same-gender attracted Christians of varying perspectives. I intentionally chose to fly under the radar – to attend as a “normal Jane” (which in this situation meant that most people simply assumed I was gay). For two and a half days, I chose to set aside some of my most significant identifiers – wife, mother, New Direction leader. I found it exhausting. I had to be constantly vigilant. It took a lot of energy to watch what came out of my mouth particularly when meeting new people (which I did a lot of) – because those identifiers were so ingrained as part of my “get to know me” script. As I reflected on that conference experience, I think one of the things God wanted me to experience, albeit in a very limited fashion, was the burden of hiding significant parts of your identity. Being a wife or a mom or a ministry leader doesn’t define me, but they do describe very important parts of me. And keeping those identifiers under wraps was really hard – I felt diminished in some way – even though I was the one who had chosen to do so. God birthed a deeper empathy in me that weekend – for which I’m very grateful.
So I have a different take on “National Coming Out Day” than I used to. I’m not threatened by it anymore. I still hope that young kids don’t label themselves too prematurely. And I still pray that those who come out as gay will make wise decisions about faith, community and relationships. But I’m better prepared to understand that coming out, in and of itself, is really just about being honest, being authentic, no longer hiding.
“National Coming Out Day” coincided with a major holiday – Thanksgiving – here in Canada. That meant that when I came to the office this morning I had the opportunity to field some calls from some parents whose kids had disclosed their sexual identity to them over the weekend. Some were shell-shocked. Some had a thousand questions. Some were grieving. I’m delighted to say that none were angry or horribly freaking out (we’ve had those in the past too).
The thing about coming out is that the gay person has had years to prepare for that moment – the loved ones, even if they had some inkling in the past – may be caught off guard.
When we gather parents together for a supportive place of sharing and prayer, this is what I say:
• This is a safe place to process all the complex emotions that may come with your child’s disclosure.
• We won’t make any assumptions about you except for one: that you are here because you love your child.
• Our focus is on coming to a place of acceptance where you are free to love unconditionally and where you are best positioned to be useful to God in his pursuit of your child.
• This is NOT about:
o fixing your child
o fixing you
o theological debate
o blame or guilt
o everyone having to think alike or agree
Coming out requires grace on all sides. And grace is what we seem to have such a hard time grasping.
If you’re a pastor or a ministry leader, ask yourself, “How many people have felt safe coming out to me?” It’s a pretty good test for whether or not you embody grace.
Frankly, I wish there were other coming out days that straight people could expeirence. Because I wish there was more honesty. I wish there was more authenticity. And I wish there was more grace for the reality of the messiness that pervades all of our lives.
To the kids who came out this weekend: grace to you.
To the parents who are now processing: grace to you.
To a church still easily threatened: grace to you.
To an impatient gay community: grace to you.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Reflections and Canadian Thanksgiving
Do you know what you were doing 10 years ago today? Ten years ago I was caring for my one year old son and was a few weeks away from delivering my daughter. I was exhausted and isolated and not particularly aware of world events. But I do remember hearing about Matthew Shepherd. I do remember grieving for the horrific pain this young man endured and aching for his family. Thank you to BTB for respectfully reminding us of the grievous injustices that glbtq people have endured through the remembrance of Matthew Shepherd’s story.
Ten years ago as I wept for Matthew and his family I had no idea that I would be called to a particular focus and engagement with gay and lesbian people.
Ten years ago I had no idea of the ways my heart and mind would be challenged and stretched as I took on the assignment of seeking to identify with and advocate for gay people. I didn’t know what it would be like to seek to listen to every sermon, read every book and article, filter every conversation in the Christian sub-culture in which I live, through the eyes of my brothers and sisters who experience same-gender attraction.
What an assignment it has been. All my comfort zones trashed. All my pat answers shredded. All my competencies tested.
And it is a good thing. A hard thing. But a good thing.
As I prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family – my son now eleven years old, my daughter excited to celebrate her tenth birthday soon, and my ‘baby’ already making birthday lists for when she turns 8 – I am again humbled and grateful to be called to seek to build bridges. There is much brokenness, injustice and pain in our world, as the story of Matthew Shepherd reminds us. And yet …..
“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”
Romans 8: 18 – 25
Blessed Thanksgiving friends …… may we all grow in learning to wait patiently.
Ten years ago as I wept for Matthew and his family I had no idea that I would be called to a particular focus and engagement with gay and lesbian people.
Ten years ago I had no idea of the ways my heart and mind would be challenged and stretched as I took on the assignment of seeking to identify with and advocate for gay people. I didn’t know what it would be like to seek to listen to every sermon, read every book and article, filter every conversation in the Christian sub-culture in which I live, through the eyes of my brothers and sisters who experience same-gender attraction.
What an assignment it has been. All my comfort zones trashed. All my pat answers shredded. All my competencies tested.
And it is a good thing. A hard thing. But a good thing.
As I prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family – my son now eleven years old, my daughter excited to celebrate her tenth birthday soon, and my ‘baby’ already making birthday lists for when she turns 8 – I am again humbled and grateful to be called to seek to build bridges. There is much brokenness, injustice and pain in our world, as the story of Matthew Shepherd reminds us. And yet …..
“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”
Romans 8: 18 – 25
Blessed Thanksgiving friends …… may we all grow in learning to wait patiently.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
The Importance of Stories - Part 2 by Brian Pengelly
I know .... we did post them on the same day .... but go read part 1 first ok?
I think the single most dangerous story that we can tell is “God is on my side”. It’s a really easy story to fall back on because it’s like pulling trump in Euchre: it beats everything. If God is on my side, then I don’t have to listen to others, or question myself. If God is on my side, then everything is justifiable.
Ten years ago, I was sure that God was on my side. I was well into Bible college and I thought I had all the answers. I had a narrative that was obviously true, and I didn’t even have to think about it any more. The story I told fit my experience, and fit what I read in scripture. It was SO simple.
The problem with the “God is on my side” story is that it has a nature corollary: “God is NOT on your side.” And when the story is followed to a logical conclusion it ends up with the question “If God is on my side, then why are other people on the other side?” The natural answer became “Because they are bad!” I think at first my internal story went something like this “This who would disagree with me on what the Bible teaches about homosexuality are obviously either unregenerate or just twisting what they know Scripture to say deep down because they just want to be in relationship so bad.”
All of these assumptions shattered when I met a Pastor I will call “Ben”. He was a professor at a conservative Bible College, who I got to know through a mutual friend. He firmly believed that Scripture taught that homosexual unions were blessed by God. He was also as straight as the day was long. By teaching his views he faced the real possibility of losing his job. But his conscience compelled him to speak up because of the hateful homophobia he saw perpetuated around him. He also believed deeply that this understanding was truth, and that he must speak the truth. Ben and I do not see eye to eye on a lot of things when it comes to interpretation of Scripture, but I admire his faith and integrity deeply.
For a time I switched to a kinder but no less arrogant story: “You are deceived!” I could tell myself that he was a good person, but that the devil, or society, or something else had simply blinded him to the obvious truth. I would pray that God would lift the blinders from his eyes so he would see. But a gay friend of mine, once asked me a question when we were discussing this one day. “How do you know that you aren’t the one that is deceived?” I laughed it off at first, but the longer I pondered it the more it sunk in, there was no way that I could prove that I wasn’t. And if I couldn’t prove that I wasn’t deceived then how could I be so sure that he was?
This realization left me in a place of paralyzing epistemological angst. I felt as if surrendering the “God is on my side” story would leave me unable to know anything at all. If I couldn’t be sure, then why believe anything, or do anything? I think one of the reasons why some Christians clamp onto the issue of homosexuality like a pit bull and refuse to let go is because for them it has become the symbol for certainty and belief. It can feel like, “If I let go of “God is on my side” then I will know nothing at all!” Homosexuality seems to have become like the bottom block that their faith is teetering on in a game of Jenga, and if they try to move it everything else will fall down.
For me the answer to this dilemma came through a deeper understanding of the basic Christian doctrine of the Fall. I had to believe there was Truth, and that God’s word was true. But I came to see that I always access that truth through my own falleness. I could have absolute faith in God, but I should not have absolute faith in myself because I am not perfect, and God is still working in me.
That allowed me to construct a new story that shapes my life today. I call it “I am following God as best I know how!” I don’t have to pretend that I am infallible and I have all knowledge, but I am doing the best with what resources I have at my disposal. The best thing about this story is that it is one that I can apply to others as well. When others disagree with me on this topic or any other I do not have to assume they are evil or deceived, I can instead believe good about them.
I believe that starting from this place of believing good about others is a key component to bridging the gap. It assumes that there is something worth building towards, and it requires personal humility. It allows dialog and opens questions. If the other person is good, then why are they acting the way they are? What do we have in common that we can build from? This does not minimize the areas that we do disagree, but does keep me honest and respectful in our disagreement.
I should point out to be fair that this story of “I am following God the best I know how” is just as important in dealing with individuals who are more “conservative” than me as well as those who are more “liberal”. I recently had an encounter with an individual who after reading my testimony wanted to meet with me to pray to cast out the demons oppressing my life as evidenced by the fact that I openly and honestly admit to continuing to have a homosexual orientation. My immediate first reaction was to label the guy a “wingnut” and refuse to meet with him. I joked about him to my friends, and even made a snide comment about it on another blog, and felt justified in doing so.
But then I got a surprise: I received an email from the gentleman several days later profoundly apologizing to me, admitting he had acted rashly and arrogantly, and in a way that was disrespectful and potentially harmful to me. And then he asked to meet with me again, in a coffee shop nearby. My first inclination was to say no, but I felt the promptings of the Spirit, and finally decided to agree to meet with him. We had coffee together and talked for half and hour. He prayed for me. It was his contention that he could sense the oppression of many spirits on me. It is my contention that I sensed no such thing, and that several of the things he interpreted as spiritual signs were better explained by awkwardness and gas. I disagree with his theology on almost every point. But as we met I prayed that God would help me to understand him, and him to understand me. I think that our meeting was productive. Our time has made him begin to reconsider some things given what he experienced in getting to know me. I won’t claim to have changed my views on much, but I can say that I was honestly open to what he said. Our dialog continues, but it does so because both of us are willing to start with the story describing the other as “Following God the best we know how”.
The journey to the point of first recognizing, and then changing the stories that had kept me from building bridges was a long one, and I don’t claim to have everything figured out yet. But then one of the best things about my new story is that I don’t have to have it all figured out yet. But by owning my own falleness instead of just making pronouncements about others, and by extending grace to others even as I ask for it myself, I can be part of creating an environment where the Holy Spirit can most effectively work. And I hope I am helping to set a foundation that is most conducive to the building of bridges. I can’t guarantee or assume that others will want to build a bridge towards me, but by changing the stories I tell myself, I know I have torn down a significant obstacle that used to get in the way.
I think the single most dangerous story that we can tell is “God is on my side”. It’s a really easy story to fall back on because it’s like pulling trump in Euchre: it beats everything. If God is on my side, then I don’t have to listen to others, or question myself. If God is on my side, then everything is justifiable.
Ten years ago, I was sure that God was on my side. I was well into Bible college and I thought I had all the answers. I had a narrative that was obviously true, and I didn’t even have to think about it any more. The story I told fit my experience, and fit what I read in scripture. It was SO simple.
The problem with the “God is on my side” story is that it has a nature corollary: “God is NOT on your side.” And when the story is followed to a logical conclusion it ends up with the question “If God is on my side, then why are other people on the other side?” The natural answer became “Because they are bad!” I think at first my internal story went something like this “This who would disagree with me on what the Bible teaches about homosexuality are obviously either unregenerate or just twisting what they know Scripture to say deep down because they just want to be in relationship so bad.”
All of these assumptions shattered when I met a Pastor I will call “Ben”. He was a professor at a conservative Bible College, who I got to know through a mutual friend. He firmly believed that Scripture taught that homosexual unions were blessed by God. He was also as straight as the day was long. By teaching his views he faced the real possibility of losing his job. But his conscience compelled him to speak up because of the hateful homophobia he saw perpetuated around him. He also believed deeply that this understanding was truth, and that he must speak the truth. Ben and I do not see eye to eye on a lot of things when it comes to interpretation of Scripture, but I admire his faith and integrity deeply.
For a time I switched to a kinder but no less arrogant story: “You are deceived!” I could tell myself that he was a good person, but that the devil, or society, or something else had simply blinded him to the obvious truth. I would pray that God would lift the blinders from his eyes so he would see. But a gay friend of mine, once asked me a question when we were discussing this one day. “How do you know that you aren’t the one that is deceived?” I laughed it off at first, but the longer I pondered it the more it sunk in, there was no way that I could prove that I wasn’t. And if I couldn’t prove that I wasn’t deceived then how could I be so sure that he was?
This realization left me in a place of paralyzing epistemological angst. I felt as if surrendering the “God is on my side” story would leave me unable to know anything at all. If I couldn’t be sure, then why believe anything, or do anything? I think one of the reasons why some Christians clamp onto the issue of homosexuality like a pit bull and refuse to let go is because for them it has become the symbol for certainty and belief. It can feel like, “If I let go of “God is on my side” then I will know nothing at all!” Homosexuality seems to have become like the bottom block that their faith is teetering on in a game of Jenga, and if they try to move it everything else will fall down.
For me the answer to this dilemma came through a deeper understanding of the basic Christian doctrine of the Fall. I had to believe there was Truth, and that God’s word was true. But I came to see that I always access that truth through my own falleness. I could have absolute faith in God, but I should not have absolute faith in myself because I am not perfect, and God is still working in me.
That allowed me to construct a new story that shapes my life today. I call it “I am following God as best I know how!” I don’t have to pretend that I am infallible and I have all knowledge, but I am doing the best with what resources I have at my disposal. The best thing about this story is that it is one that I can apply to others as well. When others disagree with me on this topic or any other I do not have to assume they are evil or deceived, I can instead believe good about them.
I believe that starting from this place of believing good about others is a key component to bridging the gap. It assumes that there is something worth building towards, and it requires personal humility. It allows dialog and opens questions. If the other person is good, then why are they acting the way they are? What do we have in common that we can build from? This does not minimize the areas that we do disagree, but does keep me honest and respectful in our disagreement.
I should point out to be fair that this story of “I am following God the best I know how” is just as important in dealing with individuals who are more “conservative” than me as well as those who are more “liberal”. I recently had an encounter with an individual who after reading my testimony wanted to meet with me to pray to cast out the demons oppressing my life as evidenced by the fact that I openly and honestly admit to continuing to have a homosexual orientation. My immediate first reaction was to label the guy a “wingnut” and refuse to meet with him. I joked about him to my friends, and even made a snide comment about it on another blog, and felt justified in doing so.
But then I got a surprise: I received an email from the gentleman several days later profoundly apologizing to me, admitting he had acted rashly and arrogantly, and in a way that was disrespectful and potentially harmful to me. And then he asked to meet with me again, in a coffee shop nearby. My first inclination was to say no, but I felt the promptings of the Spirit, and finally decided to agree to meet with him. We had coffee together and talked for half and hour. He prayed for me. It was his contention that he could sense the oppression of many spirits on me. It is my contention that I sensed no such thing, and that several of the things he interpreted as spiritual signs were better explained by awkwardness and gas. I disagree with his theology on almost every point. But as we met I prayed that God would help me to understand him, and him to understand me. I think that our meeting was productive. Our time has made him begin to reconsider some things given what he experienced in getting to know me. I won’t claim to have changed my views on much, but I can say that I was honestly open to what he said. Our dialog continues, but it does so because both of us are willing to start with the story describing the other as “Following God the best we know how”.
The journey to the point of first recognizing, and then changing the stories that had kept me from building bridges was a long one, and I don’t claim to have everything figured out yet. But then one of the best things about my new story is that I don’t have to have it all figured out yet. But by owning my own falleness instead of just making pronouncements about others, and by extending grace to others even as I ask for it myself, I can be part of creating an environment where the Holy Spirit can most effectively work. And I hope I am helping to set a foundation that is most conducive to the building of bridges. I can’t guarantee or assume that others will want to build a bridge towards me, but by changing the stories I tell myself, I know I have torn down a significant obstacle that used to get in the way.
The Importance of Stories - Part 1 by Brian Pengelly
When I was studying counselling in Seminary I spent many of my classes learning about Cognitive Therapy. This taught me to look for the story or belief that motivated a given behaviour. I learned that often by helping a person change how they interpreted an event, or the story they told about things, great changes in behaviour resulted.
What has been even more fascinating to me is the growing realization that this does not just happen with individuals. Groups of people, whether families, nations, denominations, or corporation, have these stories too. Each cultural grouping has not only its own stories of identity but also tells stories that explain those who are outside their culture and why they are different.
I have found that when interacting with a group of people who are different from me it is very important for me to learn the stories that they tell about themselves. It is also important for me to examine the stories that I tell to explain why they are different from me in light of their stories.
My first glimmering of this idea came when I was still in high school and I went down to Mexico for a summer on a mission trip to build a church. One of the first things that annoyed me about that culture was that nothing ever happened on time! If our team was asked to show up at a church service, we would get there, and almost no one was there. Like many white anglos before me I quickly made up a story to explain this strange behaviour: “Mexicans are lazy and irresponsible.”
But as the summer went on I saw more and more evidence that my story didn’t make sense. I saw many of those in the community getting up at early hours to work jobs, in some cases two jobs, and then come to our worksite and volunteer to work doing hard physical labour long after our team of American teens had packed it in for the day. As a result I was forced to change my story. I felt ashamed that I had jumped to such a judgemental and negative to explain something that I didn’t understand.
What struck me most is that in cultural conflict it seems that both sides are pro something. If I had to sum up my internal conflict that summer, recognizing that this is a huge oversimplification, I would say it was between those who were “pro efficiency” and those who were “pro relationship”. I don’t think anyone would have said they wanted to be known as “anti efficiency” or “anti relationship”.
As I have been living in this strange space trying to bridge the gap between the Christian culture and the gay culture, I have been extremely alarmed by the willingness to jump to tell stories about the other side in contrast to how rarely people are willing to do the work to hear the story of the other side.
If you start with a story like “Gay people are sexually immoral and don’t care about God” or “Christians are narrow minded hateful bigots” then there is almost no way to build a bridge. Christians have often framed their position in debates about homosexuality as being “Pro-Family.” But I have yet to meet anyone who disagrees with them who would describe themselves as “Anti-family”.
I think that a vital step in bridge building is taking the time to listen to the other’s stories, to understand how they think about themselves, and to examine the stories that we have been telling about ourselves and others.
In my next post I will examine some of the stories that I have told about both the Christian community and the gay community over the years, and how listening has changed those stories.
What has been even more fascinating to me is the growing realization that this does not just happen with individuals. Groups of people, whether families, nations, denominations, or corporation, have these stories too. Each cultural grouping has not only its own stories of identity but also tells stories that explain those who are outside their culture and why they are different.
I have found that when interacting with a group of people who are different from me it is very important for me to learn the stories that they tell about themselves. It is also important for me to examine the stories that I tell to explain why they are different from me in light of their stories.
My first glimmering of this idea came when I was still in high school and I went down to Mexico for a summer on a mission trip to build a church. One of the first things that annoyed me about that culture was that nothing ever happened on time! If our team was asked to show up at a church service, we would get there, and almost no one was there. Like many white anglos before me I quickly made up a story to explain this strange behaviour: “Mexicans are lazy and irresponsible.”
But as the summer went on I saw more and more evidence that my story didn’t make sense. I saw many of those in the community getting up at early hours to work jobs, in some cases two jobs, and then come to our worksite and volunteer to work doing hard physical labour long after our team of American teens had packed it in for the day. As a result I was forced to change my story. I felt ashamed that I had jumped to such a judgemental and negative to explain something that I didn’t understand.
What struck me most is that in cultural conflict it seems that both sides are pro something. If I had to sum up my internal conflict that summer, recognizing that this is a huge oversimplification, I would say it was between those who were “pro efficiency” and those who were “pro relationship”. I don’t think anyone would have said they wanted to be known as “anti efficiency” or “anti relationship”.
As I have been living in this strange space trying to bridge the gap between the Christian culture and the gay culture, I have been extremely alarmed by the willingness to jump to tell stories about the other side in contrast to how rarely people are willing to do the work to hear the story of the other side.
If you start with a story like “Gay people are sexually immoral and don’t care about God” or “Christians are narrow minded hateful bigots” then there is almost no way to build a bridge. Christians have often framed their position in debates about homosexuality as being “Pro-Family.” But I have yet to meet anyone who disagrees with them who would describe themselves as “Anti-family”.
I think that a vital step in bridge building is taking the time to listen to the other’s stories, to understand how they think about themselves, and to examine the stories that we have been telling about ourselves and others.
In my next post I will examine some of the stories that I have told about both the Christian community and the gay community over the years, and how listening has changed those stories.
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