I don’t understand Christian culture these days. I don’t understand how something so good was manipulated to this point. At its start, Christianity was so radically countercultural that the Roman government thought it best to wipe them out rather than endure the social change. The original point, the whole point, is that God looked at us, His stubborn, unlovable children, and loved us so much that He gave His Son, an inseparable part of Himself, over to death, that we may never be separated from Him again. Christians were supposed to love the poor, the widow, the orphan, the outcast, alcoholics, tax collectors, prostitutes, and sinners. And for the most part, lots of Christians do a decent job with most of these groups. There are Christian homeless shelters and Christian alcoholic support groups, Christian charities and Christian orphanages. But how come we let culture dictate which of these outcasts is worthy of our love? When did we start manipulating the doctrine to fit our actions instead of shaping our actions to the Word of God? How do we decide that the poor and the orphan deserve our love, but the LGBT person does not?
The stories that I hear don’t make any sense to me. These wonderful, upstanding Christian parents raise and love their children, hoping beyond hope that they turn out healthy and happy, well-rounded and able to support themselves. Fast forward ten, fifteen, seventeen, twenty years, and there is a boy shaking in the corner as the shadow of his father looms over him, the walls vibrating from his shouts because he did not raise a gay son. I do not understand how you look in the face of a young person who you loved so dearly just moments ago and tell them that they are no longer welcome in your home because of something that they can’t control. I don't know how you can ship your own child off to some camp or program where every day it is drilled into their skull that there is something wrong with them, that they are broken and dirty. Even if you think that they’ve chosen to live in sin, that this is something they can work through or pray away, why is this any different than if they had a problem with lying? Why is this particular sin something that you cannot help them through, that you cannot listen to them and empathize with their troubles? Why do we fail to love in the exact situation where love is so desperately needed?
I do not understand how we can raise kids that place so little value on relationships. We have all heard the stories and statistics. We know that LGBT kids struggle so much more with mental health issues and bullying and that many have even tried to kill themselves. Why, then, can school officials stand idly by when a trans kid shows them a note slipped in their locker which tells them, among other things, that they do not deserve to be alive? Why do other kids think its okay to use gay as a synonym for stupid or tease someone relentlessly because they wear tight pants? Kids don’t come up with these things by themselves. They get these ideas from their parents, from the news, from loud and aggressive people who shout that God hates gay people. They make these threats and turn their peers into emotional wrecks because of how we talk about LGBT people.
I don’t like to make Christianity look bad, and I hate to criticize something founded on so much good. I believe that Christians just want to be a force for good in society. But whenever I hear about someone who is vocally against LGBT people, someone who protests a funeral or encourages hate, there is so often a connection with Christianity. We let ourselves be blinded by a combination of legalism and culture, saying things like “it’s just not God’s way” or “it’s unnatural”. Why do we have to turn God into an enemy of those who are hurting? Why do we stick them on a fast-track to hell in our minds? Regardless of whatever you interpret the Bible to say, throwing a verse at someone is not loving them. Refusing to listen, talking over them, and encouraging them to hate themselves is not loving them.
More often than not, an LGBT person does not need you to tell them that they should feel dirty, that they should feel like a sinner. They know, believe me. They have spent hours, weeks, months, or even years feeling torn to shreds inside. Crying into their pillow, pleading to God to just make it simpler, to just make them normal. They don’t need you to remind them that you do not consider them normal. At the end of the day, whether they’re twelve, twenty, forty-three or eighty-seven, inside they are just a person, someone who is deeply loved by their Father and who deserves your time, attention, and empathy. They deserve a listening ear, not a verse thrown in their face. They deserve love, and who are we to decide that they don’t?
