Gentleness & Respect

I thought this clip of Bruxy was a perfect one to post in the days prior to our synchroblog scheduled a week from today.

My friend David

David Colpitts is one of the contributors on the "Bridging the Gap" DVD. David was connected with New Direction long before I was. He participated in support group and later led support groups. He was also a New Direction staff member for a couple of years. David is now hard at work on ph.d. studies.

Although we haven't always perfectly seen eye-to-eye nor have we agreed on everything, David is someone who I respect on many levels. I respect his honesty. I respect his commitment. I respect his intelligence. I respect his courage.

Together, we had a number of opportunities to speak at conferences or deliver workshops. I think we complemented each other well and I have good memories of those times.

Over the years of our friendship, I have learned a great deal from David. He helped me rethink some things. For that I am grateful.

Thank you David for your kind, wise and thoughtful contributions to "Bridging the Gap".

Bridge-Building & Vulnerability by Brian Pengelly

I rarely get nervous about public speaking. Since I was young I have been a natural at being on stage in front of people. Even talking about something as personal as my own sexuality is usually fine with me since I have been doing it for years now. But the opportunity of speaking at the Canadian Youth Workers Convention was a truly nerve wracking experience.

Part of my nerves came from the fact that I only had eighteen minutes in which to talk. Fitting the complexities of my story into an hour is daunting at times, eighteen minutes seemed impossible. I worried that I would have just enough time to offend everyone there, and not enough time to have people grapple with the nuances of my position. It’s one thing to tell people that you are a “gay, conservative evangelical, youth pastor married to a bi-sexual woman” it’s an entirely different thing for people to grasp what that actually means to me.

My friends were all very encouraging to me. “Be yourself!” they said. But that was the real scary part. What if I was myself, and people didn’t like me? Being yourself is a pretty vulnerable thing. It gives people a power over you - a power to hurt you. When you don’t care about others then you can handle rejection much better. But I did care about the people at this convention. They were people like me: youth workers who put up with bad pay and ridiculous demands because they love teens and love Jesus. And I knew that in that audience over two dozen denominations were being represented, from the very liberal to the very conservative. I knew that there would be youth pastors there who struggle with their same sex attractions, and pastors who were openly and comfortably gay.

Whatever I said I wanted more than anything for each of those pastors to go home feeling safe and respected. So I made myself very vulnerable as I spoke. In listening to the recording of it I can hear the tremble in my voice as I shared my own journey and many of the places where I was deeply hurt growing up when I shared about my sexuality.

Then I called for all the people there, wherever they are on the theological perspective, to agree to a few things. First, that no youth should have to fear for their safety the way I did because they are working through these questions (whichever way they eventually go). Secondly, that as we disagree with each other theologically we remember that the worst thing we could say about each other is that we are enemies. Yet Christ called us to love our enemies. So it is imperative that we treat each other with dignity, respect and love. And finally, to remember humility - because Christian history is full of examples of Christians boldly proclaiming what they believed to be the truth with the generations after them discovering that they were wrong.

When I finished speaking I was overwhelmed by the positive response from the audience. I received a standing ovation, which is certainly not something I have received often, and unheard of in my experiences attending this conference. Afterwards many people came to talk to me, and the thing that they said over and over was that it was my vulnerability that had really challenged them to rethink things.

I received an email later on that week from someone in the audience, a youth pastor like myself with a theologically conservative position, but who cared deeply for several gay friends, one of whom was another pastor at the conference. He wrote:

“I have to admit I was scared to death when you were giving your talk. I was scared for my friend that she was going to get hurt again, that she would leave defeated and angry. She get's enough crap from our people and it would just be so frustrating to see her get kicked again. Then when you were speaking I was scared for you. I've been around the youth work block a few times, I know what the guys especially are like, and I though, oh geez, don't show too much, don't let them get too much. Turns out I was blindingly wrong on both counts. Your piercing vulnerability broke down those walls and prejudices and rhetoric. How can you look at a living, breathing vulnerable person and still spit in their face. I know people still do, but it's way harder! So thank you. You have been a bridge, you are a bridge, and while everyone coming up and telling you how great and brave you are is overwhelming and nice in the moment, at some point you will have to wade back in to the struggle of regular life as we all do, and I hope that you know that you gave me hope in a totally different way.”

On reflection, I see that bridge building is an inherently vulnerable thing. You are putting yourself in the middle, and that means you often get caught in the cross fire. It is much easier to pick your side, hunker down in your theological trench and not care about those on the other side. But when we risk being vulnerable, to actually take the time to know and care about others, though we risk rejection, it is in that vulnerability that God’s grace shows up and does miraculous things.

The miracle in this situation is that the friend, who had publicly stated earlier her displeasure with me being there as a speaker, came and apologized to me. “I walked by your booth all through this conference and kept my distance, and then here you were and you honoured me with your talk. I am sorry.” It took vulnerability for her to come and hear me speak. It took humility for her to come and apologize. But that evening I stayed up late into the evening talking with her and her wife, sharing stories, laughing and getting to know each other. Our theologies are still different, but the distrust between us is replaced with friendship and a desire to know and understand each other better.

Choosing to care, and to make yourself vulnerable is a scary thing at times, but when we do it, we walk in the footsteps of a Saviour who was not content to leave us as enemies, but instead chose to make himself vulnerable, even to death on a cross. The conference weekend was an example of what the Spirit does when we are willing to step out. Some days I get tired of constantly putting myself out there, and the backlash that happens when I do. But weekends like that remind me why I do it, and give me the courage to go on.

Synergy and Diversity

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.