Responding to ex-gays
Several days ago The Friendly Atheist posted A Gay Christian Woman Struggles With Her Identity. The person in question launched a new blog, Becoming Israel, while her questioning Christian friend at FlowerDust mused, Why is being gay a sin?
I usually avoid wading into argumentative waters, but hate to see anyone wander down this treacherous path of self-denial, believing they're doing the best thing for themselves and loved ones, while also honouring a higher power. This is also part of my story, I miraculously lived to tell it, and tell it I must.
Coincidentally I have been working on the the novel Pilgrim's Cross, which mines the same mother lode of narrative from a fictional direction. So the universe has been riding me this week. No wonder I'm anxious.
Here are my comments in various places, for the record.
First, I addressed the question by Hemant Mehta (The Friendly Atheist), "How can you convince gay Christians that it's okay to be gay?"
As a gay former Christian who participated in the ex-gay movement for years, I don’t know if there is an answer to your question. Gay people in conservative churches not only have to deal with their religious beliefs but also deep-seated homophobia, both internalized and within their churches. They may have had unpleasant experiences in gay relationships or communities, which reinforce the feeling that they must obey God (and reject their homosexuality) in order to lead fulfilling lives. For years I lived under the illusion that gay men were sexual predators, and that if I gave in to my sexual inclinations I would lead an isolated, miserable existence. I avoided gay people, so I had no positive role models. I recall two people (my doctor and one friend) trying to persuade me that I was making a mistake, but I was too invested in my straight church lifestyle to pay attention. The ex-gay movement reinforced my prejudice.
People who get involved in the ex-gay movement initially experience euphoria about meeting others who share their experience. They experience hope from the teaching that they can overcome their sexual orientation.
But it is a false hope. I never met anyone who had eradicated same-sex attraction from his or her life. It will be a life-long struggle, and people who continue to repress their sexuality will be subject to chronic depression.
Depression finally broke through to me. I became unable to work and wanted to kill myself, not because I hated myself, but because I was in too much misery to contiue. But I preferred to live and be happy. My doctor suggested I needed to accept that I was gay in order to recover. I followed his advice, but it required costly changes. I had to go through the isolation I had feared, but eventually emerged with good friends and a happier life. I also became an atheist, though I must say my faith helped me through the first few lonely years.
So in the end I had to hit bottom, the same way addicts have to do in order to get turned around. You either start doing what is right for yourself, or you die.
The only other thing that might have helped was to know some gay people who led enjoyable, meaningful lives. But conservative Christians, at least many of the ones I knew, generally avoid people who think and act differently.
Incidentally, I am in the process of writing a novel about the ex-gay Christian experience. It is not meant to vilify anyone; it is simply a story.
Someone else referred to "peripheral damage" that may happen to spouse and children when ex-gays convince themselves and others that they are cured. I had to respond to that....
S, your comment is right on. And in my case there was collateral damage, too. I had been married for five years and had two small children when I had my breakdown. I had never hidden “my struggle” from people close to me, nevertheless the end was still devastating for everyone involved. I gather that even after we separated and I left the church, the pastors continued to pressure my wife to get back together with me. Our marriage had been a mistake, they had encouraged that mistake, and couldn’t admit they were wrong.
As long as it lasted, I bought deeply into the idea of “a cross to bear.” It provided a point for identification with Jesus, in other words it was good to suffer. I felt closest to Jesus when I was in tears. Not all Christians glorify misery the way I did, but it is common. This is one of the dangerous aspects about religion: if I believe that suffering is good, I tend to dismiss examples of people whose lives are more functional.
A Christian reader seemed to take pity on me, said Christians don't mean to make life miserable for anybody, admitted to his or her own struggle with homosexuality, and explained, "The Lord will help you if you let him." He added that he thinks I just haven't met the right church.
At first I didn't think that warranted a response, but...There ought not to be any struggle associated with being homosexual. The shame and conflict I formerly experienced did not come from nature or any higher power, but were imposed by human ignorance (my own as well as other people’s). I do not need a church to teach me that my role in society and the love I express as a gay man are just as valuable as anyone else’s. I experience belonging with my family, friends and the natural world.
Back at Becoming Israel, the woman in question asked, Why ask why, and concluded that she had to be content with the answer that being gay is a sin because God says so. But she seemed to be approaching the question honestly, so I explained why her reasoning is dangerous:
You are brave to address such a personal and controversial question publicly. I want to respond because I had to consider the same questions myself.
There’s a danger in following the argument “Just because,” because it denies the questions about why you should choose otherwise. To be honest you must also ask: “Why should I reject the belief that homosexuality is a sin?”
You mentioned other rules and beliefs (look before crossing the road, don’t commit adultery) that contribute to your safety and well-being. The belief that homosexuality is wrong is dangerous. Gay people who try to lead straight lifestyles run high risk of chronic depression and suicide.
I speak from personal experience. I had felt same-sex attraction since my early teens, became a Christian at 19, got married at 26 and became involved in the ex-gay movement, Exodus. As most people do, I initially felt euphoria and hope: euphoria about meeting Christians who shared my experience, and hope because the movement taught it is possible to change one’s sexual orientation.
It was a false hope. In five years of regular attendance at support groups and conferences I never met anyone whose feelings had changed the way they wanted.
(Personally, I believe a person’s sexual attraction may shift over the course of a lifetime, but it is not a matter of will or obedience, it is simply a matter of acceptance, willingness to let those feelings be whatever they are. But that is beside the point.)
Once the euphoria and hope wear off, you must face the reality of denying these feelings all your life. This is unnatural, and not a happy way of living. After a while, all my friends in the ex-gay movement demonstrated varying degrees of depression. I did not see people living victorious, meaningful lives. They were continually frustrated and absorbed in their problem. In the end, I could not believe God wanted people to live that way. Meanwhile, church teachings treated these sincere, good-hearted people on the same level as rapists and pedophiles, which contributed to their isolation and unhappiness.
I became depressed and suicidal before realizing I had to accept myself as gay. At age 31 this necessitated a divorce and break from my church, which was devastating to me, my wife and our children. From there I had a long and difficult road to figure out who I really was, but I am a happier person now.
You mentioned, “I felt like I was missing something.” If you were considering a gay relationship, you might miss the approval of your peers. There are lots of reasons for you to feel uncomfortable about it, but we often have qualms about doing the right thing. On the other hand, that particular relationship or person might not have been a good fit, but that doesn’t mean your orientation is wrong.
Your story will be different from mine, but please consider honestly the alternative question I suggest. Above all, whatever you do, I wish you happiness.