Too often, Evangelical discussions of non-heterosexual orientations look like this:
God calls everyone to a specific design for human sexuality. “A man is to leave his father and mother, cling to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” Marriage is the exclusive union in which sexual expression can take place, and marriage can exist only between one man and one woman. This may seem like a heavy calling for those attracted to the same sex. However, it is a difficult calling for all Christians. It is a rigorous command to follow after a singular standard for our sexual and relational lives. Those who face same sex attraction are no more sinners than anyone else, and are called to the same path of honoring God with their bodies as their heterosexual peers.
Although I intend to criticize a foundational misunderstanding presented in these kinds of statements, I am thankful for the intention behind them. Evangelicals have historically chastised homosexuality and non-heterosexual persons with unique vigor. This has created a Christian culture which identifies divergence in sexual orientation as inherently more sinful than other sexual vices or any vices. Attempting to correlate the callings and struggles of all Christians, regardless of sexual orientation, seems like an attempt to rectify these missteps. Such intentions are commendable. However, good intentions do not negate the potential for harm in equating the journeys of gay Christians with their straight peers. Such action may unintentionally dismiss the unique struggles and needs faced by LGBT Christians and limit their communities in providing the support that celibate LGBT Christians require.
But why all the fuss? Aren’t all Christians who abstain from sex facing the same basic issues? Don’t they need roughly the same support? I would argue that they do not.
Consider two women, Joan and Mary. Both are Christian women in their third year of college. Mary is straight. Joan is gay.
Both decide to follow a traditionalist Christian understanding of marriage and sexual expression. Subsequently, both women abstain from sex throughout the next two years until graduation.
Although both of these women’s lives appear interchangeable, the specific reality of their experiences are not.
During their first semester, Joan and Mary both meet and develop feelings for another student. While Mary pursues this interest, Joan must morally decline. Several months later, Mary begins dating. Joan, meanwhile, must remain single. Simultaneously, she must dismiss any hope to alter her singleness. Senior year begins and Mary has been steadily dating for several months. She enjoys the emotional intimacy which comes with it. Joan continues to remain single. At graduation, Mary is engaged and begins planning her wedding. Joan still remains single. One year after graduation, both women are happy with their lives, dissimilar as they are. Mary and her husband are beginning a family. Joan is single, and will remain single for the rest of her life.
In the example above, both Joan and Mary live different lives despite similarly remaining abstinent. Their similarities in one realm of human relationships do not remove the vast disparity in what their lives morally can and cannot contain. Representing a large portion of the Christian community, Mary is morally capable of searching for, finding, pursuing, and eventually engaging in romantic interests. Meanwhile, Joan represents another portion of the Christian population; a portion of the Christians population which limits itself from searching for, pursuing, or engaging in romantic interactions. Even hoping for such occurrences falls outside moral boundaries as a wish for sin.
The demand of celibacy among LGBT+ Christians extends far outside the bedroom. It removes the opportunities of finding one of the most intimate relationships which two persons can share. It removes the ability to enjoy the steps along the way to that union. It removes even the right to hope for any other way of life. This is a significant difference compared to the calling of abstinence which allows and even commends these hopes, pursuits, and steps (so long as they are done in a manner which honor’s God).
Traditionalist theology calls straight Christians to wait for the proper time before opening a door.
It calls LGBT+ Christians to nail the door shut and abandon every desire that it might open.
The beauty of marriage and intimate human relationships does not decide the moral issue of homosexual expression. The weight of a calling to celibacy does not decide the moral issue of homosexual expression either. However, recognizing the blessing of marriage, and the difficulty of needing to refuse that blessing, ought to influence how Christians perceive traditionalist theology and the weight it places on LGBT+ Christians. If Christians are to call LGBT+ Christians to lifelong celibacy, they must simultaneously accept the differing needs and struggles of those persons. Failing to do so, many evangelical communities are guilty of tying up heavy, cumbersome loads and failing to lend a hand to move them. Perhaps more accurately, they fail to lend the proper hand and argue that there is no difference.
