So January has basically been a write-off for blogging …. It has been an unexpected month of navigating unpredictable pain levels with a stubborn cluster of kidney stones that apparently cannot be zapped and simply need to be endured until “this too shall pass”. I’ve heard enough rock and stone jokes to last me till retirement and God and I have had more than several conversations about what the possible purpose of such a disruption of pain could be….
In the midst of varying pain levels it has been a month of deadlines, new opportunities, and feeling behind the 8-ball on cultural commentary.
The Bridging the Gap project is at the intense stage of completing final edits and graphics to release the pilot version. In fact, we’ve already run two segments with one pilot group and will be getting packages out to the other ten groups hopefully Monday. It is amazing to me how you can work on a project for more than a year ….. and then in 2 hours see this experience be dramatically impacted by the make up of the group who are engaging with it. I’m grateful for the opportunity to observe one pilot group in action …. though at times it’s been tough to keep my commitment to myself to not interject with my own commentary when the discussion sometimes veers into what I perceive to be unhelpful territory. I think I have permanent bite marks on my tongue :)
In the midst of kidney stone madness, I also had a number of commitments for speaking engagements. (Many thanks to all who were praying for me to have the physical ability to get through them.) I was working with some new teaching material that is focused on navigating turbulent times of transition and change within the Christian church and the implications for how we work through our disagreements about gay issues. I’ll share more of that in another blog post. In the midst of it, I have found myself staring uncertainty and anxiety straight in the face. This is the reality of seeking to build bridges in a contentious climate.
What has been so interesting is to simultaneously encounter Ted Haggard’s re-emergence on the media scene and the polarization such a sensationalized story can generate. As I read through some of the commentary on the HBO documentary (which I haven’t actually seen – no HBO for me), Ted’s appearances on Oprah and Larry King, and new revelations from another young man who was involved with Haggard, I am reminded of the turmoil the divide between evangelicals and the gay community creates.
There are those who continue to espouse a simplistic, and in some cases overtly legalistic, stance. Then there are those who are clearly wrestling with how to embody the love of Christ in such a complex case. Ted, it seems, continues to wrestle deeply himself. It seems to me that he is very committed to trying to articulate a message about Jesus Christ, while at the same time struggling to express authentically the realities he has spent the last two years trying to face and own. These realities are profoundly painful and difficult: He lied. His hypocrisy has had devastating consequences in compromising his desire to share the gospel of Christ. He has betrayed and wounded the people he loves the most. These are the tragic realities he has to wake up and face every day.
But he also needs to figure out for himself, without the drugs and the compulsive and addictive behaviours, what the meaning and reality of his attractions are. There are those who insistently badger him with what label he ought now to adopt. Gay. Straight. Bi-sexual. But with this insistence comes a lack of understanding of the tension a follow of Jesus faces. This tension arises from one’s desire for fidelity to Christ.
It would seem that Haggard associates a number of other descriptions to the word gay other than the common cultural understanding that the term gay simply describes someone who experiences same-gender attraction. It seems that he is sensitive to the common evangelical assumption that to say you are gay assumes that you are sexually active with members of your own gender. Clearly, in fidelity to Christ AND to his wife, he does not want to say that. But it seems to leave him in a no-man’s land of struggling for authenticity – and being unsure of how to express that - with the knowledge that evangelicals are watching him carefully. Personally, I believe it is unfortunate that stereotypes about gay people continue to afflict the common evangelical understanding – leaving those who are persistently attracted to their own gender with very few options to express that honestly without a whole lot of extra baggage.
Assumptions. Fear. Anxiety. Outrage. Can we even imagine a day when these are no longer the primary responses of the evangelical community to the real life of a person addressing persistent same-gender attraction and deep and personal questions of faith and fidelity to Christ?
It is such redemptive imagination that motivates the Bridging the Gap project. We believe there needs to be a generous and spacious place for someone like Ted Haggard to own up to his mistakes in the past, to wrestle through the implications of his faith for his future, and to express authentically his reality without fear of layers of assumption and judgment being piled on top.
I, for one, want to see Ted Haggard have every encouragement and support to live out his clear convictions, to walk in renewed fidelity to Christ and to his marriage vows, to know God’s grace in his weakness, to love well, and walk humbly with his God. And I pray that he will find the safety and language needed to do so with authenticity and transparency with his close family and friends.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, December 19, 2008
Introducing the BTG Trailer!
The BTG project is a 4 part DVD-documentary style resource for small groups within the Christian community. The purpose is to spark catalytic conversations about bridging the gap between the gay community and Christian community.
We are in the final round of edits for the film portion and the discussion guide. And we are in the process of confirming our pilot groups.
If you have been following this blog and would like to be considered to run a pilot group these are requirements:
(trailer updated to new version)
We’d appreciate you helping us spread the word as we approach our March 2009 launch! Pass this trailer along to friends. And …. do let us know what you think!!
We are in the final round of edits for the film portion and the discussion guide. And we are in the process of confirming our pilot groups.
If you have been following this blog and would like to be considered to run a pilot group these are requirements:
- gather a small group of a minimum of 5 people together to go through the 4 part experience
- be willing and able to complete this experience by mid-February 2009
- complete a thorough evaluation of the project including any helpful feedback to improve the experience
And now ….. drumroll please ….. introducing the BTG trailer:
(trailer updated to new version)
We’d appreciate you helping us spread the word as we approach our March 2009 launch! Pass this trailer along to friends. And …. do let us know what you think!!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Freedom and Responsibility
Over my years with New Direction I’ve had the opportunity to interact with many different people who experience same-gender attraction. They have landed on many different places on the spectrum of belief, of practice, of expectations. It has been a growing experience for me. I have had to wrestle with what I believe, what I practice and what I expect. I’ve learned that I cannot simply rest on my laurels without vigorous reflection, thought and critique. I’ve been challenged by my same-gender attracted and gay friends as I’ve witnessed their journeys, the ways they have had to wrestle to try to understand their sexuality, their identity, their values and beliefs. Those I respect the most, even if we land in different places, are the ones who weren’t content to be spoon-fed answers – but rather took risks to own for themselves what they believe.
In my interview with Brian Mclaren for this “Bridging the Gap” DVD curriculum, he said, “My experience as a Christian has not been that following Jesus has suddenly made everything obvious. My experience has been that following Jesus has continually called me to repentance. Repentance meaning re-thinking. At any stage in this process, you can cut the cords and say, “I can’t think about this, this is too complex.” The fear of dealing with ambiguity can make us run away, especially when our ambiguity is interpreted by our fellow Christians as compromise. This is one of the ugly things we do to each other. We make our acceptance of each other really conditional on nobody thinking, because if you think, you might change your opinion. And if you change your opinion, you might…. and you belong to a “no-think” club. How can God be pleased with that?”
God created us with a free will – the capacity to choose, the capacity to decide, the capacity to discern. The ‘gift’ of this free will emanated from his love.
I see this in parenting my own children. My kids are young enough to still be forming in their own thinking, faith journeys, ethics and values. As a parent, I have the opportunity to teach them …. But I try to not only teach them what I believe – but teach them the tools for engagement with many diverse experiences and paradigms. If I don’t, if I only provide a rigid system of what I think, what happens when they begin to struggle with something I believe? What happens when something legitimately gets questioned – and they have no system to think for themselves - to own what they believe? I’ve seen too many individuals brought up in good Christian homes, sometimes having been educated in good Christian schools, having attended good Christian churches walk away from faith because the system they were taught didn’t actually prepare them to discern for themselves, to embrace faith for themselves, to process a changing culture. Too many weren’t prepared to face the complex realities of competing ideas, values and beliefs.
This lack of preparedness contributes to individuals being stuck in an immature place – a place that is vulnerable to the controlling presence of fear. Afraid to think. Afraid to differ. Afraid to challenge. Afraid to disappoint.
Such fear limits us in so many ways. I believe such fear limits our experience of the love of the Father. We can feel the Father’s love – but it is tainted by our fear that His love is conditional on us ‘staying the course’. Not that ‘staying the course’ is a bad thing …. But believing in a conditional love from a Father who loves unconditionally, who saves us by grace and by the goodness of His own character, limits us. When the apostle John speaks of perfect love driving out fear …. I think it hits the heart of some of this deep-seated unbelief that God couldn’t really love us that much or love us that freely.
It also limits our ability to love others. Another quote from Jean Vanier: “When religion closes people up in their own particular group, it puts belonging to the group, and its success and growth, above love and vulnerability towards others; it no longer nourishes and opens the heart. When this happens, religion becomes an ideology, that is to say, a series of ideas that we impose on ourselves, as well as on others; it closes us up behind walls. When religion helps us to open our hearts in love and compassion to those who are not of our faith so as to help them to find the source of freedom within their own hearts and to grow in compassion and love of others, then this religion is a source of life”
When it comes to beliefs about sexual identity, it seems that Christians have a particular challenge to move beyond ideology. And…. (and I say this with some trepidation and the intention of a gentle spirit) this is particularly poignant for those for whom same-gender attraction is a personal reality. This is, of course, understandable (and I am limited in my understanding not having the ability to stand in their shoes). It is personal. It is intimate. It is of most significant importance.
In recent weeks, I have encountered same-gender attracted Christians who hold a conservative perspective – who seem to want the rest of the culture to change to reflect their perspectives. Now on one hand, because they believe what they believe to be true – of course they would want others to believe in a similar fashion. But there is also a sense of, “This makes things hard for me. It is threatening to me. I don’t want to be in the minority. I don’t want to be maligned. I don’t want to be pressured.” Again, these things are very understandable….. and yet, maturity in Christ brings us to the place where we, like Jesus, experience rejection, pressure, testing, mocking, ridicule – and it does not threaten us, it does not diminish us, it does not sway us from our firm convictions that we are loved by the Father and that we are choosing to live in a manner that we believe is consistent with His best intentions for us. We have the freedom to own what we believe and then seek to live consistently with that. But with that freedom comes the responsibility to really own that, to not blame anyone else when living that out is hard, and to not somehow expect that everyone should agree with us so that we don’t have to live in a counter-cultural manner.
On the flip side, I encounter gay Christians who seem to expect that anyone who doesn’t share their more gay-affirming perspectives is really just ignorant, not as enlightened as they are, not as fully mature in their understanding of faith, stuck in fear and ideology …. And ironically, they often seem to be just as stuck in their ideology.
The challenge in this divided context is to both embrace the freedom God gives us to discern, believe, and practice a life that we believe is consistent with His will for us AND to step up to the responsibility that freedom demands. This responsibility means that we will honour another’s freedom. This responsibility means that we will move toward a great maturity in not being threatened by another’s liberty.
This is not a simplistic “live and let live” …. This is cross-carrying, self-sacrificing love. And it is hard. It demands a vibrant faith.
A final Vanier thought: “It is not easy to strike a balance between closedness, having a clear identity that fosters growth in certain values and spirituality, and openness to those who do not live with the same values. Being too open can dilute the quality of life and stunt growth to maturity and wisdom; being too closed can stifle. It requires the wisdom, maturity, and inner freedom of community members to help the community find harmony that not only preserves and deepens life and a real sense of belonging but also gives and receives life.”
One more note: I have also been delighted to meet same-gender attracted and gay Christians who embody the kind of generous maturity of which Vanier speaks – and I’ll share some of my experiences in friendship with them in a future post.
In my interview with Brian Mclaren for this “Bridging the Gap” DVD curriculum, he said, “My experience as a Christian has not been that following Jesus has suddenly made everything obvious. My experience has been that following Jesus has continually called me to repentance. Repentance meaning re-thinking. At any stage in this process, you can cut the cords and say, “I can’t think about this, this is too complex.” The fear of dealing with ambiguity can make us run away, especially when our ambiguity is interpreted by our fellow Christians as compromise. This is one of the ugly things we do to each other. We make our acceptance of each other really conditional on nobody thinking, because if you think, you might change your opinion. And if you change your opinion, you might…. and you belong to a “no-think” club. How can God be pleased with that?”
God created us with a free will – the capacity to choose, the capacity to decide, the capacity to discern. The ‘gift’ of this free will emanated from his love.
I see this in parenting my own children. My kids are young enough to still be forming in their own thinking, faith journeys, ethics and values. As a parent, I have the opportunity to teach them …. But I try to not only teach them what I believe – but teach them the tools for engagement with many diverse experiences and paradigms. If I don’t, if I only provide a rigid system of what I think, what happens when they begin to struggle with something I believe? What happens when something legitimately gets questioned – and they have no system to think for themselves - to own what they believe? I’ve seen too many individuals brought up in good Christian homes, sometimes having been educated in good Christian schools, having attended good Christian churches walk away from faith because the system they were taught didn’t actually prepare them to discern for themselves, to embrace faith for themselves, to process a changing culture. Too many weren’t prepared to face the complex realities of competing ideas, values and beliefs.
This lack of preparedness contributes to individuals being stuck in an immature place – a place that is vulnerable to the controlling presence of fear. Afraid to think. Afraid to differ. Afraid to challenge. Afraid to disappoint.
Such fear limits us in so many ways. I believe such fear limits our experience of the love of the Father. We can feel the Father’s love – but it is tainted by our fear that His love is conditional on us ‘staying the course’. Not that ‘staying the course’ is a bad thing …. But believing in a conditional love from a Father who loves unconditionally, who saves us by grace and by the goodness of His own character, limits us. When the apostle John speaks of perfect love driving out fear …. I think it hits the heart of some of this deep-seated unbelief that God couldn’t really love us that much or love us that freely.
It also limits our ability to love others. Another quote from Jean Vanier: “When religion closes people up in their own particular group, it puts belonging to the group, and its success and growth, above love and vulnerability towards others; it no longer nourishes and opens the heart. When this happens, religion becomes an ideology, that is to say, a series of ideas that we impose on ourselves, as well as on others; it closes us up behind walls. When religion helps us to open our hearts in love and compassion to those who are not of our faith so as to help them to find the source of freedom within their own hearts and to grow in compassion and love of others, then this religion is a source of life”
When it comes to beliefs about sexual identity, it seems that Christians have a particular challenge to move beyond ideology. And…. (and I say this with some trepidation and the intention of a gentle spirit) this is particularly poignant for those for whom same-gender attraction is a personal reality. This is, of course, understandable (and I am limited in my understanding not having the ability to stand in their shoes). It is personal. It is intimate. It is of most significant importance.
In recent weeks, I have encountered same-gender attracted Christians who hold a conservative perspective – who seem to want the rest of the culture to change to reflect their perspectives. Now on one hand, because they believe what they believe to be true – of course they would want others to believe in a similar fashion. But there is also a sense of, “This makes things hard for me. It is threatening to me. I don’t want to be in the minority. I don’t want to be maligned. I don’t want to be pressured.” Again, these things are very understandable….. and yet, maturity in Christ brings us to the place where we, like Jesus, experience rejection, pressure, testing, mocking, ridicule – and it does not threaten us, it does not diminish us, it does not sway us from our firm convictions that we are loved by the Father and that we are choosing to live in a manner that we believe is consistent with His best intentions for us. We have the freedom to own what we believe and then seek to live consistently with that. But with that freedom comes the responsibility to really own that, to not blame anyone else when living that out is hard, and to not somehow expect that everyone should agree with us so that we don’t have to live in a counter-cultural manner.
On the flip side, I encounter gay Christians who seem to expect that anyone who doesn’t share their more gay-affirming perspectives is really just ignorant, not as enlightened as they are, not as fully mature in their understanding of faith, stuck in fear and ideology …. And ironically, they often seem to be just as stuck in their ideology.
The challenge in this divided context is to both embrace the freedom God gives us to discern, believe, and practice a life that we believe is consistent with His will for us AND to step up to the responsibility that freedom demands. This responsibility means that we will honour another’s freedom. This responsibility means that we will move toward a great maturity in not being threatened by another’s liberty.
This is not a simplistic “live and let live” …. This is cross-carrying, self-sacrificing love. And it is hard. It demands a vibrant faith.
A final Vanier thought: “It is not easy to strike a balance between closedness, having a clear identity that fosters growth in certain values and spirituality, and openness to those who do not live with the same values. Being too open can dilute the quality of life and stunt growth to maturity and wisdom; being too closed can stifle. It requires the wisdom, maturity, and inner freedom of community members to help the community find harmony that not only preserves and deepens life and a real sense of belonging but also gives and receives life.”
One more note: I have also been delighted to meet same-gender attracted and gay Christians who embody the kind of generous maturity of which Vanier speaks – and I’ll share some of my experiences in friendship with them in a future post.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Fragrance or Stench?
I’ve been pondering this post for several days. I’m not a fast reaction writer … I like to let things percolate in my gut as well as my mind and heart. The thoughts and emotions that have been swirling around for the last number of days I have sought to offer up as a jumbled prayer that the Holy Spirit will make clear before the Father.
I have found myself grieving for the pain of my gay friends – and the many gay people who I don’t know personally – who have been so intimately affected by the various marriage propositions south of the border. I would hardly consider myself to be politically astute. And New Direction has taken a very intentional position to not be involved in political matters. So, I feel I may be skirting a bit of a fine line with this post.
But I have been thinking a lot about how caught up so many Christians seem to be in the empire …. And I’ve been considering the subversive way in which Jesus lived his life and taught his followers. He didn’t try to overtake the Roman government. He didn’t try to make his teachings the law of the land. His power was revealed in weakness and suffering and sacrifice. He chose to empty himself.
I’ve followed with a sad heart the perceptions and reactions of many gay people to the manner in which the various campaigns were executed by those who stood against gay marriage. The witness of those who name the name of Christ, where perception is reality, has been devastating….. twisting stories, power plays, harsh, ungracious …. seemingly oblivious to the fellow human beings their campaign would impact.
And now the protests through California and other States …. and the anti-religious sentiments being expressed….. understandably expressed.
And my heart breaks.
I don’t share the celebration of some within Christian circles. Though I believe that God’s best intention for marriage and sexual intimacy is the covenant between husband and wife, I also deeply believe that there are significant injustices being perpetrated against gay and lesbian people.
I look at the millions of dollars that have been spent on these recent campaigns and my heart returns to the documentary “JustUs” that my friends Meghan and Alex produced in Rwanda about the Millennium Development Goals ….. and my spirit is perplexed. And I find myself asking, “What is happening? How can this be consistent with the true religion of which the Apostle James speaks?”
I think of 14,000 couples in California alone ….. and the Christians who boldly and arrogantly assert that they will go after their marriage licenses …. and for the life of me I cannot see how that is consistent with the person and ministry of Jesus.
And so I have been lamenting these last few days. For those who celebrate somehow averting God’s judgment with the passing of these propositions …. I must ask, “What of the judgment that accompanies dehumanizing our fellow human beings? Of being a mill-stone around the neck of those who may have been seeking God?”
“What of the judgment of our pride and arrogance? Of the stench of our twisted sense of entitlement? Of our addiction to power and dominance?”
“What of the judgment of our capitulation to our fear? Of the fear that has driven out perfect love?”
Jean Vanier, in his book ‘Becoming Human’, writes, “The discovery of our common humanity, beneath our differences, seems for many to be dangerous. It not only means that we have to lose some of our power, privilege, and self-image, but also that we have to look at the shadow side in ourselves, the brokenness, and even the evil in our own hearts and culture; it implies moving into a certain insecurity.”
May Christ have mercy on us.
I have found myself grieving for the pain of my gay friends – and the many gay people who I don’t know personally – who have been so intimately affected by the various marriage propositions south of the border. I would hardly consider myself to be politically astute. And New Direction has taken a very intentional position to not be involved in political matters. So, I feel I may be skirting a bit of a fine line with this post.
But I have been thinking a lot about how caught up so many Christians seem to be in the empire …. And I’ve been considering the subversive way in which Jesus lived his life and taught his followers. He didn’t try to overtake the Roman government. He didn’t try to make his teachings the law of the land. His power was revealed in weakness and suffering and sacrifice. He chose to empty himself.
I’ve followed with a sad heart the perceptions and reactions of many gay people to the manner in which the various campaigns were executed by those who stood against gay marriage. The witness of those who name the name of Christ, where perception is reality, has been devastating….. twisting stories, power plays, harsh, ungracious …. seemingly oblivious to the fellow human beings their campaign would impact.
And now the protests through California and other States …. and the anti-religious sentiments being expressed….. understandably expressed.
And my heart breaks.
I don’t share the celebration of some within Christian circles. Though I believe that God’s best intention for marriage and sexual intimacy is the covenant between husband and wife, I also deeply believe that there are significant injustices being perpetrated against gay and lesbian people.
I look at the millions of dollars that have been spent on these recent campaigns and my heart returns to the documentary “JustUs” that my friends Meghan and Alex produced in Rwanda about the Millennium Development Goals ….. and my spirit is perplexed. And I find myself asking, “What is happening? How can this be consistent with the true religion of which the Apostle James speaks?”
I think of 14,000 couples in California alone ….. and the Christians who boldly and arrogantly assert that they will go after their marriage licenses …. and for the life of me I cannot see how that is consistent with the person and ministry of Jesus.
And so I have been lamenting these last few days. For those who celebrate somehow averting God’s judgment with the passing of these propositions …. I must ask, “What of the judgment that accompanies dehumanizing our fellow human beings? Of being a mill-stone around the neck of those who may have been seeking God?”
“What of the judgment of our pride and arrogance? Of the stench of our twisted sense of entitlement? Of our addiction to power and dominance?”
“What of the judgment of our capitulation to our fear? Of the fear that has driven out perfect love?”
Jean Vanier, in his book ‘Becoming Human’, writes, “The discovery of our common humanity, beneath our differences, seems for many to be dangerous. It not only means that we have to lose some of our power, privilege, and self-image, but also that we have to look at the shadow side in ourselves, the brokenness, and even the evil in our own hearts and culture; it implies moving into a certain insecurity.”
May Christ have mercy on us.
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