Gay evangelicals
"A lot of people are freaked out because their only exposure to
evangelicalism was a bad one, and a lot ask, ‘Why would you
want to be part of a group that doesn't like you very much?'"
Mr. Lee said. "But it's not about membership in groups. It's about
what I believe. Just because some people who believe the same
things I do aren't very loving doesn't mean I stop believing what
I do."
The New York Times
December 12, 2006
Gay and Evangelical, Seeking Paths of Acceptance
By NEELA BANERJEE
RALEIGH, N.C. -- Justin Lee believes that the Virgin birth was
real, that there is a heaven and a hell, that salvation comes
through Christ alone and that he, the 29-year-old son of Southern
Baptists, is an evangelical Christian.
Just as he is certain about the tenets of his faith, Mr. Lee also
knows he is gay, that he did not choose it and cannot change it.
To many people, Mr. Lee is a walking contradiction, and most
evangelicals and gay people alike consider Christians like him
horribly deluded about their faith. "I've gotten hate mail from
both sides," said Mr. Lee, who runs gaychristian.net, a Web site
with 4,700 registered users that mostly attracts gay evangelicals.
The difficulty some evangelicals have in coping with same-sex
attraction was thrown into relief on Sunday when the pastor of a
Denver megachurch, the Rev. Paul Barnes, resigned after confessing
to having sex with men. Mr. Barnes said he had often cried himself
to sleep, begging God to end his attraction to men.
His departure followed by only a few weeks that of the Rev. Ted
Haggard, then the president of the National Association of
Evangelicals and the pastor of a Colorado Springs megachurch,
after a male prostitute said Mr. Haggard had had a relationship
with him for three years.
Though he did not publicly admit to the relationship, in a letter
to his congregation, Mr. Haggard said that he was "guilty of
sexual immorality" and that he had struggled all his life with
impulses he called "repulsive and dark."
While debates over homosexuality have upset many Christian and
Jewish congregations, gay evangelicals come from a tradition whose
leaders have led the fight against greater acceptance of
homosexuals.
Gay evangelicals seem to have few paths carved out for them: they
can leave religion behind; they can turn to theologically liberal
congregations that often differ from the tradition they grew up
in; or they can enter programs to try to change their behavior,
even their orientation, through prayer and support.
But as gay men and lesbians grapple with their sexuality and an
evangelical upbringing they cherish, some have come to accept
both. And like other Christians who are trying to broaden the
definition of evangelical to include other, though less charged,
concerns like the environment and AIDS, gay evangelicals are
trying to expand the understanding of evangelical to include them,
too.
"A lot of people are freaked out because their only exposure to
evangelicalism was a bad one, and a lot ask, ‘Why would you
want to be part of a group that doesn't like you very much?' "
Mr. Lee said. "But it's not about membership in groups. It's about
what I believe. Just because some people who believe the same
things I do aren't very loving doesn't mean I stop believing what
I do."
The most well-known gay evangelical may be the Rev. Mel White, a
former seminary professor and ghostwriter for the Rev. Jerry
Falwell. Mr. White, who came out publicly in 1993, helped found
Soulforce, a group that challenges Christian denominations and
other institutions regarding their stance on homosexuality.
But over the last 30 years, rather than push for change, gay
evangelicals have mostly created organizations where they are
accepted.
Members of Evangelicals Concerned, founded in 1975 by a therapist
from New York, Ralph Blair, worship in cities including Denver,
New York and Seattle. Web sites have emerged, like
Christianlesbians.com and Mr. Lee's gaychristian.net, whose
members include gay people struggling with coming out, those who
lead celibate lives and those in relationships.
Justin Cannon, 22, a seminarian who grew up in a conservative
Episcopal parish in Michigan, started two Web sites, including an
Internet dating site for gay Christians.
"About 90 percent of the profiles say ‘Looking for someone with
whom I can share my faith and that it would be a central part of
our relationship,' " Mr. Cannon said, "so not just a life partner
but someone with whom they can connect spiritually."
But for most evangelicals, gay men and lesbians cannot truly be
considered Christian, let alone evangelical.
"If by gay evangelical is meant someone who claims both to abide
by the authority of Scripture and to engage in a self-affirming
manner in homosexual unions, then the concept gay evangelical is a
contradiction," Robert A. J. Gagnon, associate professor of New
Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, said in an e-mail
message.
"Scripture clearly, pervasively, strongly, absolutely and
counterculturally opposes all homosexual practice," Dr. Gagnon
said. "I trust that gay evangelicals would argue otherwise, but
Christian proponents of homosexual practice have not made their
case from Scripture."
In fact, both sides look to Scripture. The debate is largely over
seven passages in the Bible about same-sex couplings. Mr. Gagnon
and other traditionalists say those passages unequivocally condemn
same-sex couplings.
Those who advocate acceptance of gay people assert that the
passages have to do with acts in the context of idolatry,
prostitution or violence. The Bible, they argue, says nothing
about homosexuality as it is largely understood today as an
enduring orientation, or about committed long-term, same-sex
relationships.
For some gay evangelicals, their faith in God helped them override
the biblical restrictions people preached to them. One lesbian who
attends Pullen Memorial Baptist Church in Raleigh said she grew up
in a devout Southern Baptist family and still has what she calls
the "faith of a child." When she figured out at 13 that she was
gay, she believed there must have been something wrong with the
Bible for condemning her.
"I always knew my own heart: that I loved the Lord, I loved Jesus,
loved the church and felt the Spirit move through me when we
sang," said the woman, who declined to be identified to protect
her partner's privacy. "I felt that if God created me, how is that
wrong?"
But most evangelicals struggle profoundly with reconciling their
faith and homosexuality, and they write to people like Mr. Lee.
There is the 65-year-old minister who is a married father and
gay. There are the teenagers considering suicide because they have
been taught that gay people are an abomination. There are those
who have tried the evangelical "ex-gay" therapies and never became
straight.
Mr. Lee said he and his family, who live in Raleigh, have been
through almost all of it. His faith was central to his life from
an early age, he said. He got the nickname Godboy in high
school. But because of his attraction to other boys, he wept at
night and begged God to change him. He was certain God would, but
when that did not happen, he said, it called everything into
question.
He knew no one who was gay who could help, and he could not turn
to his church. So for a year, Mr. Lee went to the library almost
every day with a notebook and the bright blue leather-bound Bible
his parents had given him. He set up his Web site to tell his
friends what he was learning through his readings, but e-mail
rolled in from strangers, because, he says, other gay evangelicals
came to understand they were not alone.
"I told them I don't have the answers," Mr. Lee said, "but we can
pray together and see where God takes us."
But even when they accept themselves, gay evangelicals often have
difficulty finding a community. They are too Christian for many
gay people, with the evangelical rock they listen to and their
talk of loving God. Mr. Lee plans to remain sexually abstinent
until he is in a long-term, religiously blessed relationship,
which would make him a curiosity in straight and gay circles
alike.
Gay evangelicals seldom find churches that fit. Congregations and
denominations that are open to gay people are often too liberal
theologically for evangelicals. Yet those congregations whose
preaching is familiar do not welcome gay members, those
evangelicals said.
Clyde Zuber, 49, and Martin Fowler, 55, remember sitting on the
curb outside Lakeview Baptist Church in Grand Prairie, Tex.,
almost 20 years ago, Sunday after Sunday, reading the Bible
together, after the pastor told them they were not welcome
inside. The men met at a Dallas church and have been together 23
years. In Durham, N.C., they attend an Episcopal church and hold a
Bible study for gay evangelicals every Friday night at their home.
"Our faith is the basis of our lives," said Mr. Fowler, a
soft-spoken professor of philosophy. "It means that Jesus is the
Lord of our household, that we resolve differences peacefully and
through love."
Their lives seem a testament to all that is changing and all that
holds fast among evangelicals. Their parents came to their
commitment ceremony 20 years ago, their decision ultimately an act
of loyalty to their sons, Mr. Zuber said.
But Mr. Zuber's sister and brother-in-law in Virginia remain
convinced that the couple is sinning. "They're worried we're going
to hell," Mr. Zuber said. "They say, ‘We love you, but we're
concerned.' "
evangelicalism was a bad one, and a lot ask, ‘Why would you
want to be part of a group that doesn't like you very much?'"
Mr. Lee said. "But it's not about membership in groups. It's about
what I believe. Just because some people who believe the same
things I do aren't very loving doesn't mean I stop believing what
I do."
The New York Times
December 12, 2006
Gay and Evangelical, Seeking Paths of Acceptance
By NEELA BANERJEE
RALEIGH, N.C. -- Justin Lee believes that the Virgin birth was
real, that there is a heaven and a hell, that salvation comes
through Christ alone and that he, the 29-year-old son of Southern
Baptists, is an evangelical Christian.
Just as he is certain about the tenets of his faith, Mr. Lee also
knows he is gay, that he did not choose it and cannot change it.
To many people, Mr. Lee is a walking contradiction, and most
evangelicals and gay people alike consider Christians like him
horribly deluded about their faith. "I've gotten hate mail from
both sides," said Mr. Lee, who runs gaychristian.net, a Web site
with 4,700 registered users that mostly attracts gay evangelicals.
The difficulty some evangelicals have in coping with same-sex
attraction was thrown into relief on Sunday when the pastor of a
Denver megachurch, the Rev. Paul Barnes, resigned after confessing
to having sex with men. Mr. Barnes said he had often cried himself
to sleep, begging God to end his attraction to men.
His departure followed by only a few weeks that of the Rev. Ted
Haggard, then the president of the National Association of
Evangelicals and the pastor of a Colorado Springs megachurch,
after a male prostitute said Mr. Haggard had had a relationship
with him for three years.
Though he did not publicly admit to the relationship, in a letter
to his congregation, Mr. Haggard said that he was "guilty of
sexual immorality" and that he had struggled all his life with
impulses he called "repulsive and dark."
While debates over homosexuality have upset many Christian and
Jewish congregations, gay evangelicals come from a tradition whose
leaders have led the fight against greater acceptance of
homosexuals.
Gay evangelicals seem to have few paths carved out for them: they
can leave religion behind; they can turn to theologically liberal
congregations that often differ from the tradition they grew up
in; or they can enter programs to try to change their behavior,
even their orientation, through prayer and support.
But as gay men and lesbians grapple with their sexuality and an
evangelical upbringing they cherish, some have come to accept
both. And like other Christians who are trying to broaden the
definition of evangelical to include other, though less charged,
concerns like the environment and AIDS, gay evangelicals are
trying to expand the understanding of evangelical to include them,
too.
"A lot of people are freaked out because their only exposure to
evangelicalism was a bad one, and a lot ask, ‘Why would you
want to be part of a group that doesn't like you very much?' "
Mr. Lee said. "But it's not about membership in groups. It's about
what I believe. Just because some people who believe the same
things I do aren't very loving doesn't mean I stop believing what
I do."
The most well-known gay evangelical may be the Rev. Mel White, a
former seminary professor and ghostwriter for the Rev. Jerry
Falwell. Mr. White, who came out publicly in 1993, helped found
Soulforce, a group that challenges Christian denominations and
other institutions regarding their stance on homosexuality.
But over the last 30 years, rather than push for change, gay
evangelicals have mostly created organizations where they are
accepted.
Members of Evangelicals Concerned, founded in 1975 by a therapist
from New York, Ralph Blair, worship in cities including Denver,
New York and Seattle. Web sites have emerged, like
Christianlesbians.com and Mr. Lee's gaychristian.net, whose
members include gay people struggling with coming out, those who
lead celibate lives and those in relationships.
Justin Cannon, 22, a seminarian who grew up in a conservative
Episcopal parish in Michigan, started two Web sites, including an
Internet dating site for gay Christians.
"About 90 percent of the profiles say ‘Looking for someone with
whom I can share my faith and that it would be a central part of
our relationship,' " Mr. Cannon said, "so not just a life partner
but someone with whom they can connect spiritually."
But for most evangelicals, gay men and lesbians cannot truly be
considered Christian, let alone evangelical.
"If by gay evangelical is meant someone who claims both to abide
by the authority of Scripture and to engage in a self-affirming
manner in homosexual unions, then the concept gay evangelical is a
contradiction," Robert A. J. Gagnon, associate professor of New
Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, said in an e-mail
message.
"Scripture clearly, pervasively, strongly, absolutely and
counterculturally opposes all homosexual practice," Dr. Gagnon
said. "I trust that gay evangelicals would argue otherwise, but
Christian proponents of homosexual practice have not made their
case from Scripture."
In fact, both sides look to Scripture. The debate is largely over
seven passages in the Bible about same-sex couplings. Mr. Gagnon
and other traditionalists say those passages unequivocally condemn
same-sex couplings.
Those who advocate acceptance of gay people assert that the
passages have to do with acts in the context of idolatry,
prostitution or violence. The Bible, they argue, says nothing
about homosexuality as it is largely understood today as an
enduring orientation, or about committed long-term, same-sex
relationships.
For some gay evangelicals, their faith in God helped them override
the biblical restrictions people preached to them. One lesbian who
attends Pullen Memorial Baptist Church in Raleigh said she grew up
in a devout Southern Baptist family and still has what she calls
the "faith of a child." When she figured out at 13 that she was
gay, she believed there must have been something wrong with the
Bible for condemning her.
"I always knew my own heart: that I loved the Lord, I loved Jesus,
loved the church and felt the Spirit move through me when we
sang," said the woman, who declined to be identified to protect
her partner's privacy. "I felt that if God created me, how is that
wrong?"
But most evangelicals struggle profoundly with reconciling their
faith and homosexuality, and they write to people like Mr. Lee.
There is the 65-year-old minister who is a married father and
gay. There are the teenagers considering suicide because they have
been taught that gay people are an abomination. There are those
who have tried the evangelical "ex-gay" therapies and never became
straight.
Mr. Lee said he and his family, who live in Raleigh, have been
through almost all of it. His faith was central to his life from
an early age, he said. He got the nickname Godboy in high
school. But because of his attraction to other boys, he wept at
night and begged God to change him. He was certain God would, but
when that did not happen, he said, it called everything into
question.
He knew no one who was gay who could help, and he could not turn
to his church. So for a year, Mr. Lee went to the library almost
every day with a notebook and the bright blue leather-bound Bible
his parents had given him. He set up his Web site to tell his
friends what he was learning through his readings, but e-mail
rolled in from strangers, because, he says, other gay evangelicals
came to understand they were not alone.
"I told them I don't have the answers," Mr. Lee said, "but we can
pray together and see where God takes us."
But even when they accept themselves, gay evangelicals often have
difficulty finding a community. They are too Christian for many
gay people, with the evangelical rock they listen to and their
talk of loving God. Mr. Lee plans to remain sexually abstinent
until he is in a long-term, religiously blessed relationship,
which would make him a curiosity in straight and gay circles
alike.
Gay evangelicals seldom find churches that fit. Congregations and
denominations that are open to gay people are often too liberal
theologically for evangelicals. Yet those congregations whose
preaching is familiar do not welcome gay members, those
evangelicals said.
Clyde Zuber, 49, and Martin Fowler, 55, remember sitting on the
curb outside Lakeview Baptist Church in Grand Prairie, Tex.,
almost 20 years ago, Sunday after Sunday, reading the Bible
together, after the pastor told them they were not welcome
inside. The men met at a Dallas church and have been together 23
years. In Durham, N.C., they attend an Episcopal church and hold a
Bible study for gay evangelicals every Friday night at their home.
"Our faith is the basis of our lives," said Mr. Fowler, a
soft-spoken professor of philosophy. "It means that Jesus is the
Lord of our household, that we resolve differences peacefully and
through love."
Their lives seem a testament to all that is changing and all that
holds fast among evangelicals. Their parents came to their
commitment ceremony 20 years ago, their decision ultimately an act
of loyalty to their sons, Mr. Zuber said.
But Mr. Zuber's sister and brother-in-law in Virginia remain
convinced that the couple is sinning. "They're worried we're going
to hell," Mr. Zuber said. "They say, ‘We love you, but we're
concerned.' "