Certainty & Conviction

I tend to think a lot about certainty and the ways it influences our faith – and in particular, the conversations at the intersection of faith and sexuality. I also think a lot about conviction and the role it plays in how we express our faith. In this post I want to look at how these two interact in the way we process our thoughts and feelings about how a sexual minority might pursue faithful Christian discipleship. My purpose in this post is not to try to change what people believe. I think that is the Holy Spirit’s territory. But I do think a lot about what is behind what we believe and know that there are times we all need to be stretched to examine the driving energy behind the expression of our beliefs. I grew up understanding that a sense of certainty in one’s beliefs was an expression of strong faith. It wasn’t that we weren’t encouraged to ask questions or to think deeply about what we believed – but such questions were, I assumed, viewed as the process to lead to clear and strong convictions. And it was expected that clear and strong convictions would be expressed with great certainty – otherwise how could they communicate the strength of the conviction? There seemed to be an internal tension between the value of intellectual pursuit and thoughtful questioning and the pull and tug towards clarity, resolution and certainty in beliefs. At some point, it would seem that many abandon the journey of questions somehow feeling that it’s time to simply accept by faith what influential leaders were saying was the truth. To continue to question perhaps felt rebellious or too unsettling or made the questioner too vulnerable to accusations of weak faith, selfish faith, or some other similarly shame-based attempt to quench the quest. And so we hear people saying such things as, “The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it” with a sense of certain conviction. But being the sort who perniciously needs to question, I’ve had to wonder what is behind that sort of statement. It seems to me to be a blind sort of faith that doesn’t actually honour the inquisitive intellect that God has given his Image-bearers. Now, don’t misunderstand me. I think there are times when our questions cannot be fully answered this side of heaven – and we are called to relinquish our demanding need to know the “why” and choose by an act of our will through grace by which we have faith to rest in the trust that God knows, that God loves us, and that He will make all things right in the end. But I can’t help but wonder if we give up too soon when our questions begin to invade the scary territory of challenging our assumptions and certainties. And I certainly can’t help but wonder if that is true for many in the conversations around faith and sexuality. If I had a quarter for every time I hear, “The Bible is clear” when the question of homosexuality comes up – I wouldn’t be fabulously wealthy – but I’d probably have a decent amount to reinvest in micro-finance for women in the developing world. When it comes right down to it, I have to wonder if a lot of folks who most loudly shout that the Bible is clear have somewhat low levels of Biblical literacy beyond proof-texting. When asked about the full and progressive scope of God’s story revealed through Scripture as it navigates the history of God’s people through varying cultures and contexts, there can seem to be an automatic shut-off valve. It can seem to launch a pre-recorded voice that presumes that such a question is simply setting the stage for a faith-weakening revision of the true word of God. In the many back-and-forth arguments between traditionalists and progressives, the assumptions that zing back and forth often prevent either from actually hearing the other. Defenses are on the ready. Guarding one’s heart from deception or prejudice or agendas seems to be the number one priority. If we listen to an lgbt person’s story there can quickly be the assertion of theology from the bottom up where experience has too much weight. If we listen to a story of transformation as told by someone now in a life-giving (mixed-orientation) marriage there is query as to the authenticity of the self-reported degree of change. If we listen to the testimony of partnered gay Christians and the ways they experience and grow in their faith, there will be those who question whether this is genuine faith at all. If we listen to the life journey of someone committed to celibacy, there is both respect and the question if this is a seemingly arbitrary command for all same-sex attracted people. If we explore historical and cultural context there is argument over the weight that ought to be given. If we raise hermeneutical discrepancies tribal superiorities are articulated with sharp precision. If we raise exegetical differences sides are drawn as though salvation itself depended on our particular side being correct. However, the last time I checked, salvation was only and solely the gift of God through the gracious gift of faith in Jesus Christ. Now, there are plenty of folks across the spectrum who are thoughtful, who have diligently and with openness listened to diverse voices, those who hold their convictions deeply but with a calm and measured ability to dialogue. I am not trying to paint an all-inclusive caricature here. But many of us engaged in this conversation are familiar with those who do not seem to want to really engage the complexity, the very legitimate questions that arise in the exploration of the Biblical text and the faith journey of sexual minorities – and that is on both sides. The truth is there are deeply held commitments to Scripture and even more deeply meaningful relationships with Jesus Christ to be found across the spectrum of theological perspective on the appropriateness of covenanted same-sex unions. Unless you are willing to sit in the seat of judgment and proclaim that anyone who disagrees with you really doesn’t know Jesus and really doesn’t care about the Scriptures, it would seem wise to adopt a posture that presents one’s deepest convictions with an attitude of humility, generosity, and graciousness. Does that mean I don’t think that people should state with certainty that the Bible is clear on the question of same-sex intimate relationships? I think anyone who has been willing to enter the complexity of exegetical disagreements among scholars, who has studied the variety of hermeneutical methods within the Christian community, who has considered the particularities of history and culture on textual context, has sat face-to-face with gay, same-sex attracted, and ex-gay Christians for long haul conversations over years of friendship, and has wrestled to apply their understanding and knowledge of God’s character to this deeply human question of the application of grace for this particular situation in our broken world will avoid black and white simplistic and reductionistic answers like “the Bible is clear”. I think anyone who has done this kind of homework with an open heart and spirit, who may indeed have their own deep convictions about God’s best way forward for a same-sex attracted disciple, will also have a capacity to say that they could be wrong. I used to be convinced that anyone who landed in a different place than I did was simply twisting Scripture to suit their own needs. I trivialized their journey to search out God’s will because it was too threatening for me to consider that I could be wrong. My certainty was a defense. It was not an expression of robust faith. It was a fear of my entire system of faith coming crashing down. And this fear was no light or easy matter – it was not easy to face or to admit. It was scary to consider that my certainties had become their own kind of idolatry…. And so I hid behind words of radical obedience and holiness. I acted as though I had some special key to a particularly deep and intimate understanding of God’s call to holiness that others were simply too selfish or lazy to experience. And the system I was in supported me in this unconscious but profoundly arrogant stance. We gave each other those knowing looks that relegated fellow brothers and sisters in Christ to a lesser class of commitment and discipleship. We nursed a patronizing pity and self-righteous anger towards those who were misleading others, watering down the Word of God, who were not concerned for God’s justice and truth as we saw it. And when it hit too close to home, when there was any sense of certainty crumbling at the edges, we spoke in passionate tones about truth as if to talk ourselves out of the compassion we might feel in the face of profound questions of love, loneliness, belonging, and authenticity. I am grateful that God was persistent in calling me to face the cost of my certainty. And the cost, in this case, was the diminishment of my heart. It was a price I was no longer willing to pay. It was a price that seemed completely inconsistent with the heart of Jesus. It was a price that no longer seemed to represent the good news of the gospel. I know people who deeply love Jesus and deeply care about the Scriptures who come to different conclusions on the question of covenanted same-sex relationships – both those who are gay themselves and those who are straight. Where I see the most graciousness of character, maturity of humility, and development of generosity is in those who can both hold their convictions with courage and extend the benefit of the doubt to their brothers and sisters in Christ with whom they disagree. This is a different kind of cost. And in my experience, it is a price that seems much more consistent with the heart of Christ. Having risked releasing my certainty on the Bible’s simplistic clarity on this question has not weakened my faith. It has strengthened my dependence on the Holy Spirit to continue to lead and guide me and those I have the privilege of journeying through friendship and conversation with. And I have found my heart enlarged. And for this I am profoundly grateful.

-WG

Absolutes - Part 2

Yesterday I talked about absolutes in light of a question I’d been asked that required me to give an absolute response. Today, in part 2, I want to share my thoughts on an absolute statement I encountered over the weekend when I was speaking at a church. I’m not sure that I can give an exact quote, but essentially the individual said something like this: “Some churches are already gay affirming. If that becomes the norm it will be all over. We will be done. I will NEVER agree with gay marriage.” Now because this particular sentiment was expressed in a string of comments he made which was followed by a bit of a firestorm from other participants in this open forum discussion, I wasn’t able to ask him what exactly he meant when he said, “…. It will be all over. We will be done.” But it was clear that his emotion was one of desperation. This man might be right. He might never agree with gay marriage. And this is his prerogative. But the spirit from which he uttered this declaration was troubling to me. It sounded less like a conviction and more like a fearful and angry defense. I’m not saying that this is not a conviction for him. But I’ve often said that “how” we believe what we believe is critically important – it's not just about “what” we believe. Back in my inner-healing-paradigm days, we would have called a statement like that an inner vow. Within that paradigm of ministry, the understanding is that inner vows will nearly always come back to bite you in the butt. We understood something about giving allegiance to that kind of absolute statement rather than simply resting in the trust that God will lead you in the right way. The hold that this kind of a statement had on someone’s spirit could become a binding and problematic thing – and so we spent a lot of time in prayer breaking the power of these kinds of vows. I remember reading an article after Bishop Gene Robinson was consecrated. Apparently, a Christian woman had asked Gene this question, “If Jesus spoke directly to you and told you that gay relationships were outside of his will, would you obey him?” The article reported that the Bishop quietly said that he would follow and obey Jesus. I can’t help but wonder, if I had asked this individual a similar question, what would his response have been. If I’d asked, “If Jesus came to you and told you that you were mistaken in your convictions about committed same-sex relationships, would you obey him and open your heart to partnered gay people?” When we play the emotional power card with such strong absolute statements, we erase the possibility that we could be wrong. We cease to embody a posture of humility. It doesn’t mean we don’t have strong convictions that we continue to pray into, search Scripture about, and open ourselves to the leading of the Holy Spirit. But we express these convictions in a manner that communicates our recognition of our own limitations and our inability to ever fully apprehend the mysteries of God’s love and grace. I think of the disciple Peter. He was often the first one to blurt out some absolute statement. And sometimes, these were profound statements of faith. And sometimes he got it so badly mistaken that at one point Jesus had to say to him, “Get behind me Satan.” Then later in his life, Peter, deeply humbled by his betrayal and reconciliation with Jesus, is confronted with more ideas and concepts that cut across all of his theological certainties. His vision on the roof and his visit with Cornelius were paradigm busting encounters. And when Peter had to give leadership to the dispute about Gentile believers in Acts 15, he makes this remarkable speech:

“Brothers, you know that some time ago God made a choice among you that the Gentiles might hear from my lips the message of the gospel and believe. God, who knows the heart, showed that he accepted them by giving the Holy Spirit to them, just as he did to us. He did not discriminate between us and them, for he purified their hearts by faith. Now then, why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of Gentiles a yoke that neither we nor our ancestors have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are.”

The rock on which Christ said he would build his church had come to a place of grace. And as for the church being somehow ruined by gay affirming positions, let us remember the words of our Lord, “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.” (Matt. 16:18) Grace will build the church. And no matter what kinds of absolute statements we make, Jesus Christ has said that nothing, not even hell itself, will overcome the gathering and reconciling of God’s people.

-WG

Working with Language

I’ve been pondering for some time the need to write a new article regarding language usage in the conversation at the intersection of faith and sexuality. Then I ran across an article dealing with transgender terminology that was so clear and helpful, it was the catalyst that I needed. In the last section, I’ll simply cut and paste a major section from Melinda Harris’ article to help us understand current usage of language when engaging matters of gender identity. But there are some things to say more generally about the L and G before we get to the T of LGBTQ.

Let’s start with the acronym: LGBTQ stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer. Some people have joked about the never-ending acronym because you may encounter a number of additional letters such as LGBTTTQQI. Some of the extra letters may stand for transsexual, two-spirited, questioning and intersex. (Two-spirited is an aboriginal term to describe someone who does not fit a heteronormative sexuality.)

There are some Christians who would view this acronym as a political statement with the assumption that it communicates a particular theological or political position. In my experience, the common social usage is simply an attempt to be more inclusive than simply saying ‘gay community’ and there isn’t an implicit political message in its usage.

There are two terms that I have begun to use more regularly, though not without some questioning and controversy.

Outside the heterosexual mainstream: An older gay friend advised me, as a straight person, that using a word like queer as an attempt to be inclusive could be perceived as offensive to some people. So when I came across this phrase, I wondered if it could serve a similar purpose. I ran it by a number of gay friends who came from diverse backgrounds and positions – and none of them had a problem with it. They viewed it as descriptive. And descriptive language is always preferred. I have recently encountered some folks who feel that is highlights what people are outside of and that it could therefore be perceived to be contributing to an inequitable way to view those who are not heterosexual. These are important concerns to listen to. I have found that it is a phrase that can be helpful when speaking to mainly straight or mixed audiences and particularly so within the faith community. It seems to be received as a fairly value-neutral term which can be a very helpful starting point. It doesn’t seem to be perceived as a political description – and for most straight people it wouldn’t occur to them that it could perpetuate a sense of inequity. My conclusion is that it can be a helpful term when speaking to the church. If I’m speaking to predominantly LGBTQ audiences I will use different language.

The other term I’ve been using is: sexual minorities. This could carry the same critique as above – namely that by focusing on the minority element it perpetuates a sense of inequity. However, if the emphasis is on being descriptive, it is again a fairly value neutral term which is more inclusive than simply saying gay. Because it is a term a lot of church folks won’t have heard, it can open up a conversation when they inquire what I actually mean when I say sexual minorities. I think another helpful thing it can communicate – without getting into the argument about causation – is the simple reality that a minority of people around us experience a different sense of sexuality than the majority do. This can be very helpful to set the tone of, “it is what it is – how now shall we live”. This little phrase can mean a couple of things. First, for the individual themselves, it is an invitation to accept their experience of sexuality for what it is and to focus their attention and energy on determining the manner in which they will move forward through life and relationships given this reality. Secondly, for the community, it is an invitation to accept that people in their group experience a different sense of sexuality than they do, may have different beliefs and values than they do, and may choose to live their life in a different manner than they do, but we are still called, as followers of Jesus, to be good neighbours to whoever is in our community. We therefore need to figure out a way to live together in peace and to work towards the shalom of our neighbours.

You may notice, that I use the word reality a lot. I like this word because of its neutrality. A reality just is. One might feel like it is good or bad – but you would need to come up with additional words to describe that. To use the word reality instead of a word like “issue” invites a different kind of entry way to acceptance. Sometimes, to avoid being overly redundant with the word reality, I will use words like ‘subject’, ‘topic’, ‘conversation’ – all of which carry the same sense of neutrality.

In a lot of my presentations, I spend some time talking about the word gay. General social usage of the word in today’s context is descriptive. So if someone says, “I’m gay” they are communicating something descriptive about themselves and it is simply this – that they experience same-sex attraction. When someone says that they are gay you actually don’t know much about them – you don’t know where they land on the political or theological spectrum. You do not know if they are sexually active or what their personal beliefs and boundaries around sexual behaviour might be. You do not know if they are partnered, open to having a partner or committed to celibacy. All you know is that they experience same-sex attraction and that they have accepted this as a reality in their life. The only way you can come to know the answer to some of the other questions is if you take the time to get to know them, listen to their story, and earn the right by building authentic trust to hear such intimate details of their life. The only way you can build such trust is to take a genuine interest in them as a person and express genuine care for them.

The word lesbian is not one I find myself using a lot unless I’m with a friend who prefers to describe herself that way. Some same-sex attracted women I know prefer lesbian – others do not like it at all. The best rule of thumb is to simply listen to your friends and adopt the language that they use provided it doesn’t conflict with your conscience.

Bisexual is a term that describes someone who experiences attraction to both the same and opposite genders. In my earliest days with New Direction I heard an ex-gay ministry leader answer a query about this term by saying that it was essentially someone with a sexual addiction. This kind of description is completely unhelpful. Bisexuality is distinct from the idea of sexual fluidity. Fluidity refers to a shifting in direction of attraction over time. Some individuals, may want to explore the potential of fluidity in their sexuality or try to uncover some level of bisexual functioning so that they can enter into heterosexual marriage in a manner that is in line with their beliefs and values. I spoke more about this in the previous post on "Absolutes Part 1".

One of the things that I learned early on and still continue to practice is to try to use terms like gay or lesbian or bisexual as adjectives rather than nouns. When I listen to others, including other gay people, I hear both usages. My sense has been that the adjectival use, particularly by someone who is straight, communicates a level of respect. For example, I will refer to gay people not gays. The flip side of that is sometimes it is unnecessary to indicate this descriptor. This can be a bit tricky – especially for someone who is speaks on this subject but not in purely social contexts. For example, I was speaking at our annual event and told a story about my gay friend. Because I wanted to protect the identity of the individual I did not use their name. I wanted my audience to know that the story I was about to tell involved someone who had connected with me through New Direction. Afterwards, one of my other gay friends chided me and said he felt like I’d had to make this big emphasis about my gay friend. There is some tension here that can only be navigated successfully with ongoing conversation, a willingness to listen, and extend respect while giving one another some grace.

There are some words and phrases that I continue to hear within the church community that just make me cringe – and I really wish that we could make the transition to remove them from our vocabulary.

The gay lifestyle: This is my standard line when speaking to the church, “If you meet one hundred gay people you may well encounter 100 different gay lifestyles.” In other words, there is great diversity among LGBT people in how they live their lives and steward their relationships and sexual behaviour – as there is among straight people. Using this phrase reveals that an individual really hasn’t taken the time to listen to and get to know a variety of gay people. It smacks of stereotypes and caricatures – and it is really unhelpful. The church is called into relationship with real people where they are at. We erect a barrier when we use this kind of generalizing, negative language.

Practicing homosexual: My response, “Are you practicing heterosexuals? How often do you practice?” etc. Most people use this phrase because they are trying to differentiate between those who hold to a traditional interpretation of Scripture and those who hold a more affirming perspective. Its usage, however, would be demeaning to someone who has been in a committed relationship for years. I have found that a better alternative is to simply say that an individual is partnered, open to having a partner, or single and/or celibate. This seems to me to be more respectful and accurate in its descriptions.

The use of the word homosexual in general conversation can also be a disconnect. This word choice has a clinical overtone that seems impersonal and distant. So rather than referring to someone as a homosexual, simply say that someone is gay. If that person doesn’t describe themselves as gay – or if you are unsure about that – then you can simply say same-sex attracted. Instead of saying the homosexual community, simply say LGBT community or gay community. Of course, speaking of that, it is important to remember that there is no monolithic gay community. Rather, it is an attempt to concisely refer to the group of people who do not identify as heterosexual or who experience gender identity differently. I would suggest limiting the use of gay community for those reasons.

For a season in my tenure with New Direction, we really emphasized the use of same-gender attracted. In fact you may find that in older parts of this or other websites hosted by us. We originally made this emphasis because it was descriptive. We used the word gender instead of sex in an attempt to highlight the reality that the experience of same-sex attraction ought not to be reduced to being only about sex. The thought behind it might have been good – but in some contexts the word gender just sparks off a whole other kind of conversation so that in the end, it wasn’t the best language choice. Both phrases, same-sex attracted and same-gender attracted, are relatively neutral if not somewhat cumbersome to use. If a person is uncomfortable, for whatever reason, with describing themselves as gay this may be their preference. If, however, someone has come out and regularly describes themselves as gay, they may be insulted if you refer to them as same-sex attracted. Best to use the same language that the individual uses for themselves.

I have been speaking more about personhood in connection with sexuality. This is one way to deconstruct the reductionism that has a lot of people focused on genital interaction when they think of same-sex sexuality. This post elaborates on that.

In the rest of this section, I want to turn it over to Melinda Harris who is the Social Contributor for the San Diego Gay and Lesbian News. She has compiled a list of terminology that is commonly used and/or referred to in the transgender community. This is an area of engagement which will become increasingly important for thoughtful Christians to be familiar with. Having come to know a good number of trans folks in the last few years, Melinda's straight-forward, clear descriptions are consistent with what I have found helpful in navigating some of the complexities of this subject area.

Melinda begins by saing:
Don’t worry if you haven’t heard of all of these terms before, because at one time, some of them were completely foreign to my own “trans-lexicon” as well!

Transgender Terminology
Assigned gender: The announcement by doctors ("It’s a boy/girl") based on an individual’s physical anatomy. Determines the gender roles the person is expected to live within.

Cisgender: A term describing people whose gender identity matches their assigned birth gender. The majority of the population is cisgender. The term is unfamiliar to most people, who simply think of themselves as "normal." The prefix "cis" stems from the Latin-derived prefix (also cis) meaning "to/this the near side" as in the cis-trans distinction in chemistry. (I wouldn’t have known this one, aside from hearing it used by my dad, who is a retired wildlife biologist!)

Coming out: The process of becoming aware of and accepting one's sexual orientation or gender identity. This process is often gradual, as the person makes decisions about how much to disclose, and to whom.

Cross-dressing: Choosing to wear the clothing generally associated with the opposite gender. The term "transvestite," previously in common use, is now considered offensive by many.

Cross-living: Living and dressing full-time as the gender an individual perceives himself or herself to be.

Drag queen: A term historically used to describe gay men who dressed in women's clothing for the purpose of entertainment or personal fulfillment. Drag kings are biologically female and dress as male.

Effeminate: A term used to identify a person (usually male) who expresses and/or presents culturally or stereotypically feminine characteristics. (Note: This term often carries a negative connotation.)

F2M, FTM, Female-to-Male: Used to identify a person who was female-bodied at birth and who identifies as male, lives as a man, or identifies as masculine.

Female-bodied: A person who was assigned female gender at birth, or a person who was born male-bodied and has had surgery to alter their genitals.

Gender: Refers to the characteristics of a particular sex as determined by society. These characteristics are commonly referred to as feminine and masculine. For contrast, see Sex.

Gender dysphoria: A continuous discomfort resulting from an individual's belief that they were assigned the wrong gender at birth. As a clinical psychological diagnosis, the term offends many in the transgender community, although it is often required to receive hormones and/or surgery.

Gender identity: A term referring to a person’s self-identification as male, female, or other. The terms transgender and cisgender refer to gender identity.

Genetic: Often used to refer to the assigned gender at birth; also used to refer to the discussion of an individual’s chromosomal makeup. For example, "my partner is a genetic female."

Gender queer: A term used to describe people who may not think of themselves as transgender, but who identify their gender and/or their sexual orientation to be outside the assumed norm.

Getting read (or getting clocked): Being detected as a person who is cross-dressed.

Hormonal therapy: Also called hormone replacement therapy, HRT, or hormonal sex reassignment. The administration of hormones, often for life, to affect the development of secondary sex characteristics of the opposite gender. Androgens (testosterone) are used for FTM persons, and estrogens are used for MTFs.

In the closet: Not disclosing, or being purposely discreet about, one’s sexual orientation and/or gender identity.

Intersex: A term referring to people whose physical characteristics do not match the typical patterns of male or female. The term "hermaphrodite," previously in common use, is now considered offensive.

M2F, MTF, Male-to-Female: Used to identify a person who was male-bodied at birth and who identifies as a female, lives as a woman, or identifies as feminine.

Male-bodied: A person who was assigned male gender at birth, or a person who was born female-bodied and has had surgery to alter their genitals.

Non-Operative (Non-Op): Individuals who have not attained and are not seeking gender reassignment surgery, and who may or may not take hormone therapy. Many transgender individuals achieve sufficient gender identity harmony through cross-living or other forms of gender-related behavior.

Post-operative (Post-Op): Transsexual individuals who have attained gender reassignment surgery and/or other surgeries to change secondary sex characteristics.

Pre-operative (Pre-Op): Transsexual persons who desire gender reassignment surgery for primary and/or secondary sex characteristics and are seeking it as an option. They may or may not cross-live full-time and may or may not take hormone therapy.

Presentation: The totality of one's appearance, including clothing, voice, and behavior.

Queer: A term historically used to ridicule those who failed to conform to societal gender expectations. This term has been reclaimed by the LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) community as a positive and affirming term of communal identity.

Real life test (also called life test): A period of time during which individuals seeking gender reassignment surgery must live full-time expressing and presenting the gender in which they identify. Many doctors require a real life test of two or more years before advancing to surgery.

Sex: The designation of the biological differences between female and male. For contrast, see Gender.

Sex assignment: The declaration of a person’s gender, by doctors, based on the appearance of external genitalia. Determines society's expectations of the person’s gender behavior.

Sexual orientation: A term referring to whom a person is attracted, sexually and emotionally. The terms Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Straight (Heterosexual) refer to sexual orientation. Sexual orientation is not correlated with gender identity; transgender persons can be gay, lesbian, bisexual, or straight.

Standards of Care: A set of minimum guidelines formulated by the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association, Inc. (HBIGDA) for care of transsexual individuals. Written for and used by medical service providers, the Standards of Care are seen by some transgender individuals as not representing the wishes of those they are designed to serve.

Top surgery: Surgery "above the waist," usually breast augmentation for MTFs and breast reduction for FTMs. Many factors influence the decision of whether to have top surgery, including desire, expense, physical health, possible side effects, age, and access to medical care and information.

Transgender: An umbrella term referring to people who live in a manner that does not conform to social expectations based on their biological or assigned gender.

Transgender community (also gender community): A loose association of individuals and organizations who transgress gender norms in a variety of ways. Celebrating a recently born self-awareness, this community is growing rapidly across all lines. The community's central ethic is unconditional acceptance of individual freedom in gender, sexual identity and expression.

Transition: The period during which a transgender individual begins to live a new life in their gender. Includes the period of full-time living (the real life test) required before gender reassignment surgery.

Transphobia (also genderphobia): The fear of those who are perceived to transgress cultural or stereotypical gender roles. Expressed as negative feelings, attitudes, actions, or behaviors against those perceived as breaking or blurring expected gender roles.

Transsexual: A person who, through experiencing an intense long-term discomfort with their assigned gender, adapts their gender behavior and body in order to reflect and be congruent with their gender identity. This may include cross-dressing, synthesized sex hormones, surgery or other body modifications. These actions may or may not lead to a feeling of harmony between a person’s body and gender identity.

In Summary
This is just a brief list of helpful terms, and like most words in our English language, they sometimes change, or develop different meanings or connotations over time.
I welcome any additions and/or corrections you might have, because just like you, I am always learning new things about my community!


Let me add a final thought: I'm a mainly straight gal, who speaks to mainly straight audiences. My thoughts on language arise out of this context. But I am beholden to my LGBT friends who have patiently helped and redirected me. Thank you to all who have shared their stories and experiences with me - you have helped to shape my sense of helpful language in this conversation. But, I most certainly haven't arrived. So, please chime in to the comments sections to share other suggestions, examples, to point out things I've missed etc. We need your help so that all of us can learn to speak in a manner that smells like the reconciliation, respect, hospitality and humility of Jesus.

-WG

Absolutes - Part 1

Truth be told, I’m not very comfortable with absolutes. I suppose that is in large part due to my personality type (for you Myers-Briggs junkies, I’m an INFP). I love to live in the world of grey, even though at times that raises tension and challenge. But besides my personal bent, I think I have had too many experiences where I’ve seen the use, or misuse, of absolutes cause hurt and pain and exclusion. I often feel like an absolute disallows room and space for that one (or many) possible exceptions. I’m always looking for the uniqueness in a person’s story and expect that I will encounter people and situations that don’t fit the formula.

Recently¸ in another forum, I was asked if I could unequivocally state that I would never refer someone to an ex-gay program even if they indicated that was what they desired. The context for this query came around the issue of trust – and whether gay Christians could, or should, ever trust a straight leader like me who had been part of the ex-gay paradigm.

Trust is a big question for me. I well understand that once trust has been broken, it is no small matter to restore it. I don’t think that just because someone says they are my brother or sister in Christ I should carte blanche extend untested trust. While I believe God challenges us to learn to restore trust, and to begin anew with people, trust, to some extent, does need to be earned. But trust will always be a leap off the cliff too. You can’t guarantee that trust will be kept. There is no formula – including the exertion of absolutes – to ensure that trust will be perfect and that pain can be completely avoided.

The absolute that was asked of me in that particular question is understandably asked from the perspective of suspicion, caution, and the desire to protect vulnerable individuals from the pain the questioner has experienced through ex-gay ministry. The risk of this kind of desired protection, however, is that it robs individuals of the autonomy and opportunity to make their own choices and decisions. Because of this, my stance has always been to put individual autonomy as a priority – even as I fully believe we are called into community.

My role, as I see it, is to the best of my ability describe the various options, to be honest about “the good, the bad and the ugly” of the options, to be careful to explore realistic expectations with the individual, to try to help them clarify their beliefs, values and goals and then make a choice that is most congruent with these factors, and to help individuals work through any fear or shame so that ultimately their decisions arise out of a place of love and security. For those who fear that I am not presenting the truth, that I’m just being a relativist, that I’m presenting all the options as equally valid – I think you miss the point. I seek to listen with people to the ways God is leading (if they are followers of Christ that is). Part of that listening is testing options in light of Scripture, wrestling through prayer, considering what other Christians have discerned in the past, and asking God to enliven discernment. But at the end of the day, I don’t need to fear exposing people to different options – because I can fully trust that the Holy Spirit is more than able to lead, guide and direct. I do not have to be directive in people’s lives. I simply have to be present – staying in step with the Holy Spirit and obeying whatever he asks me to do.

At the conference I attended in Denver there was a sharing time on the final evening. A young man stood up and spoke of his painful experience with ex-gay ministry and that he had been recently suicidal. He then named the ministry as New Direction. My stomach dropped and I felt ill. I did not recognize this young man – but he looked about 18 years old so I assumed it must have been during my time with the ministry that he had had such a difficult and painful experience. When he returned to his seat, I gently approached him. I said that I wasn’t sure if he knew who I was, but that I was the current director of New Direction and that I wanted to apologize on behalf of the ministry for the pain he had experienced. We embraced and he wept. It turned out that he was quite a bit older than he looked and that his time in the ministry was seven years before I took on my role. He knew that his difficult experience was a combination of a number of factors – and was able to extend grace. It was a healing moment for both of us as we, together, received God’s grace in our moments of conversation.

Last week I had the opportunity to have coffee with another man who had previous interactions with New Direction. He has gifts in music and a worshipping heart – and I had asked him to lead worship for a number of events that we’d hosted. His main ministry experience was in Living Waters – which is separate from New Direction. Some years ago, after his honest reflection that his orientation was not changing, he experienced a painful parting of the ways with the LW team. I was grateful for his openness to have coffee with me. And we both reflected on our journeys and the ways that God has continued to lead and grow us. It was good to reconnect. It was good to be honest with one another – and extend grace to one another.

In both of these experiences, and the many other times I’ve had the opportunity to reconnect with those who have had past experience with New Direction in its ex-gay years, there is the sharing of both pain and some good memories too. It is rarely all one or the other. It isn’t absolute – it is a mixed up sense of grey. Often times, the individuals say that they needed to connect first with something like New Direction to even begin to be honest with themselves. Sometimes they express that they needed to be able to look back and feel like they’d explored that option before they could move on to different options. Some reflect on ways they grew close to God – and others mourn the distance they experienced in their walk with God during their ex-gay experiences. I am amazed by the capacity for graciousness I often encounter. And where that grace is lacking, I know there is a depth of pain. And I am committed to do whatever I am able to do to try to prevent those kinds of painful experiences.

That’s why New Direction is no longer an ex-gay ministry. It’s why our postures have dramatically changed over the years. In the postures of humility, graciousness and generosity we seek to be present in people’s lives in a manner that allows them space to really explore and consider the way they will move forward in integrating their faith and experience of sexuality. For some, this may mean they want to explore the potential for bi-sexual functioning and the possibility of heterosexual marriage. I can share with them the real stories I’ve encountered – which includes stories of healthy, vibrant marriages – but also includes stories of absolutely tragic and traumatic breakdown. I can share with them the importance of really knowing and understanding your motives for wanting to explore this route. I can talk with them about realistic expectations, the importance of authenticity, and can connect them to others. But I cannot make their decision for them. Mixed orientation marriage is not something I recommend. But if someone decides to take this route, then I will love and support them and serve them to the best of my ability. And I will pray that God will bring blessing and love into their lives.

Some years ago, I asked an ex-gay survivor activist their opinion on whether or not mixed orientation marriages could ever really work. I was intrigued by how they would respond. Their response was, I thought honest and generous while being realistic. Their sense was that if the spouses were best friends, with both having a relatively low sex drive, the priority of having children and raising a family, and shared a very strong faith commitment, such a marriage might be life-giving and healthy for both spouses and their family. Now I know others will think of other scenarios in which mixed-orientation marriages can and do function in a life-giving way. That isn’t my point. My point is that this ex-gay survivor activist knew that absolutes don’t make room for the exceptions.

There can be a fluidity to sexuality – no absolutes there. The biggest question for me is not whether someone wants to explore their potential to intimately connect to a heterosexual partner, the biggest question is what is driving them to want to do so. If they are coming from a healthy place of self-acceptance where fear and shame no longer bind them – then for me to somehow seek to prevent them from considering an avenue that has caused hurt in others (who likely didn’t come from such healthy starting points) would be fundamentally patronizing. It would be to insinuate that they are incapable of making an informed and mature decision for themselves. It would be to say that I, as a straight person, know better than you do the potentiality of your experience of sexuality. That would be a travesty. Even if I weren’t mainly straight, even if I had my own experience with same-sex attraction, if I attempted to project my experience on the journey of another – how ineffective and insulting that would be. Each person needs to be free to own their own journey and make their own decisions – even when they make decisions that we sometimes wish they would not make.

I fully accept the reality that some people experience a persistent and predominant orientation to the same sex. And I fully support people living honest and authentic lives if this is their experience. What I increasingly see among young people who have experienced a very persistent sense of same-sex orientation for as long as they can remember, is that they have no desire to explore the possibility of being able to connect to an opposite sex partner. It is completely foreign to them and their sense of authenticity prevents them from even wanting to go down that path. In the last few years, I rarely encounter anyone who wants to try to experience shifts in the direction of their attractions.

But I also know, that sexuality isn’t always that cut and dried. I know that sometimes it takes some time to figure out where you land. And I know that this journey is made all the more complex when there are beliefs and values based on Scripture that, for some, will put boundaries on their ability to express their same-sex sexuality in intimate relationship with another. What we most need is space for open, honest, informed conversation, where people can experience support and encouragement to receive God’s love and direction for their lives. Externally imposed absolutes, even when established with the desire to protect people from pain, become barriers to this kind of generous spaciousness.

-WG

If I had a million dollars .....

The McCain’s, of french fries fame, have donated a million dollars to the Metropolitan Church in Toronto. This is pretty significant news in my neck of the woods. Wallace McCain who made the gift referred to the connection back in New Brunswick that he had with the MCC’s pastor, Brent Hawkes. Seems that the Hawkes family grocery store and subsequent restaurant were only a few miles down the road from the McCain plant. And in New Brunswick these kinds of connections are a big deal. There can be a down home family feel in the densely wooded, sports inclined, slower-paced but hard-working milieu one finds in places like Florenceville.

In fact, I have my own Wallace McCain story. After having finished my undergrad degree at the University of New Brunswick in Fredericton, I started my career working at the YMCA. It was a good entry-level learning position, but it didn’t pay much. I became an in-home care-giver to Wallace’s 90-something spinster aunt who lived just a few houses away from the YMCA. Wallace interviewed me for the job in his Florenceville home, told me stories of the growth of the family business, and while always ensuring that we were well stocked with McCain frozen meals, wanted to ensure that I was making regular home-made meals for his aunt. He readily acknowledged that she could be a challenge – but was also protective and concerned for her well-being.

As I think about this family’s generous gift to MCC a few things come to my mind. Over the years, I haven’t really had direct interaction with Toronto’s MCC. I know people who have – and they’ve had a variety of stories to tell. My understanding is that Brent Hawkes has had a negative view of New Direction – which would have been understandable given our ex-gay history. I’ve wondered from time to time about connecting with him for coffee – but it didn’t yet seem to be the right timing. When asked about gay people going to MCC, my standard response over the years was that I hoped and prayed that they would encounter the love of God there – and that where they ended up was up to God. And, indeed, I have heard stories of those who came out of very closeted and painful experiences in more conservative churches who felt their hearts come back to life in the warm welcome they received at MCC.

I think this gift speaks to the general heart attitude of openness and recognition of the need and importance of equity. Wallace McCain seems to understand that when “I diminish you, I diminish myself”. The million dollar gift, in addition to helping to pay off the mortgage on the church building, will be used to help the church be a safe haven and passage for lgbt refugees. Hawkes made note of the reality that in 68 countries it is illegal to be lgbt and in ten of those one can be executed for being gay. I am grateful that this gift will help to set up a program to respond in not only a humanitarian, but Christ-like manner, to those fleeing such violently oppressive contexts. This is a beacon for justice.

(Note: While I am not unaware of the history of the activist role of Hawkes and Toronto MCC, I don't particularly see this gift as being connected to any political endeavours.)

None-the-less, I’m somewhat bracing myself for any backlash from conservative religious voices and the seemingly inevitable call to boycott McCain products. I’d like to think that Canadians will choose less reactionary responses, but I just can’t be sure. I, for one, will continue to enjoy McCain sweet potato fries.

I pray that this will be an opportunity to acknowledge the need for equity and justice regardless of one’s theological position on the question of same-sex relationships. And I pray for the great success of the development of the program to assist and support lgbt refugees. It would be wonderful if at some point Brent and I could talk about the program over lattes.

-WG

Advocacy, Bridge-building and Personhood

Of late, I’ve taken to talking a fair bit about personhood in my various presentations. I find myself increasingly convicted and drawn to this concept as a critical piece in efforts of advocacy and bridge-building. When I think about the term personhood, I think of what essentially makes a person who they are. I think of unique individuals, all created in the image of God, all worthy of dignity and respect. Personhood is both a shared and a distinct reality. We share our humanness with one another – unique in all of God’s creation. But our experience of our personhood is distinct – mine is different from yours, yours it different from mine. Our personhood is made up of so many different factors. To name a few: personality, life experiences, values, emotional wellbeing, spiritual growth and vitality, self-awareness, family connectedness, gender identity, beliefs, hurts, successes, sense of responsibility, sexual identity, self esteem, virtues, body image, community support, ability to trust, convictions, experience of mutuality with others, degree of control, intelligence, humour, creativity, capacity to forgive, and comfort level with uncertainty, difference, failure, misunderstanding, and conflict. As I think about personhood, I envision all of these kinds of factors interacting with one another to make up the entirely original and organic package that is each one of us. When someone suggests that a person ought not to reduce their sense of self and identity to their sexuality – I agree. Given the list above, our sexuality is one of many factors. However, it is also a factor that interacts with all of the other factors of our personhood. It is a filter, so-to-speak, that influences the other factors and the subsequent expression of our personhood. In a similar way, other factors, influence our sexuality and how we express and navigate our journey as a sexual being. In this sense, rigid social constructs that define our sexuality will be limited in their effectiveness at capturing a sense of the fluid, interactive and complex aspects of our personhood. I can understand why people work to deconstruct the effect of such constructs. One such attempt that I have been encountering is hearing from people who choose to make no reference to their sexuality whatsoever in their description of themselves. My sense of this attempt, rather than the liberating effect celebrated by those who espouse it, is that such dismissal and amputation of the sexual aspect of our being actually impoverishes our sense of personhood. This impoverishment is due to the absence of considering how our sexuality interacts with all the other factors that make us who we are and how we relate and interact with others. So when someone says, “I’m a Christian man” as an expression of their identity, I fear that they are seeking to erase an essential aspect of their personhood. Making one’s commitment to be a Christ-follower the primary expression of one’s identity is a healthy and mature decision for those who prioritize their faith. I have often encouraged people to find their deepest grounding in the secure and confident knowledge that they are the Beloved of God. But limiting the experience of being a sexual person to a statement of one’s biological sex (and presumably some implication of their sense of gender identity) seems to me to be unhelpful reductionism. Every person is a sexual being. This would also include those who feel asexual, those who experience a sense of internal conflict with the direction of their attractions, or those who experience a fluid and shifting sense of their sexuality. We still relate to and interact with people relationally as those who are impacted by our sexuality. When I had this conversation recently with some individuals who were choosing to identify themselves only on the basis of their Christian faith and their biological sex, their response was that what I was describing was their personality – not their sexuality. This linguistic splitting of hairs seemed to me to be an attempt to disavow themselves from any implication their sexuality (in this case, the reality of lingering same-sex attraction despite living in the reality of opposite gender marriage) might have on their sense of personhood. At the end of the day, I’m merely a mainly straight gal who lacks post-grad credentials in psychology, but as someone who has spent years studying theology, it seems to me that this would sadden the Creator’s heart – because he made us to be sexual beings. And it is not outside of his awareness or understanding that within the human experience of personhood, some individuals, albeit a minority, experience difference from the mainstream. And this difference is something that is not outside of his redemptive and reconciling touch. Not in the sense of amputating or eradicating it – but in the sense of His delight in the ever evolving, ever developing tapestry of diversity that continues to paint the landscape of his crowning creation – human beings. Such difference can bring a richness, a refining difference, a sensitivity to the human experience as we encounter those who express themselves and relate to others in a unique manner – in part influenced by their experience of sexuality. Rather than rejecting such difference, I am more convinced than ever that we have the opportunity to embrace difference as a doorway to a deeper appreciation of human personhood. Advocacy, therefore, for those who find themselves on the margins, is about affirming the beauty of personhood within the individuals who find themselves outside the majority mainstream in their context. Being an advocate is about standing up for another person. It is about being willing to risk rejection from others in the mainstream because you choose to identify with those outside the mainstream. This risk is may be the most effective way to effect change. While it is essential for those on the margins to raise their voices, to assert the value of their personhood as equally valuable and worthy of dignity as any other person, it is unfortunately too convenient for those in the mainstream to disregard such voices as demanding, angry, aggressive, adversarial, or “having a chip on their shoulder”. It is hard to advocate for yourself when you are a minority. But when someone in the majority risks rejection, reputation, and access to the resources that come with being in the mainstream…. that can carry weight. It is the power of powerlessness in action. It is following the example of the Incarnation. I would differentiate advocacy from activism in this way: advocacy is about people and elevating personhood; activism is about issues. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with activism – but I would make such a distinction. I consider myself an advocate – not an activist (generally speaking). And I think bridge-building is most effective when people focus on advocacy rather than activism. Activism, while certainly necessary, inevitably polarizes people between those who agree with and promote an issue and those who disagree with and try to prevent an issue. Advocacy seeks to create space for all people, regardless of differences and disagreements, because it focuses on the common ground of our shared humanity and the necessity of valuing one another’s personhood. Advocacy remembers the words of Desmond Tutu, “If I diminish you, I diminish myself.” Issues are important. And thoughtful advocates need to be informed and sensitive to the reality of issues as they affect and impact the lives of those they seek to advocate for. But if they hope to build bridges in the midst of diversity and foster open dialogue and respectful relating in the midst of difference, they are perhaps better served by refraining from positioning themselves on particular contentious issues. They are perhaps wiser to invest their energies in taking risks for advocacy and standing in identification with people rather than positioning themselves on issues. They recognize that the fundamental change they long to see is equity among persons, mutual valuing among those who experience difference, and peace in the midst of competing agendas. They realize the hard, yet necessary work, of being present with multiple audiences where they can promote this vision of respecting one another’s personhood as a pathway to real and sustainable peace. A challenge to this idealistic vision is the reality that our personhood and the issues we care about collapse together into one cemented reality. When this happens, advocacy is only acceptable when positions on an issue are the same. This is understandable. We care about an issue – because it affects our sense of personhood. We feel that a given issue either impedes or encourages our growth, liberty and expression of our fullest personhood. So the idea that these can be neatly separated is often perceived to be unrealistic though perhaps not impossible. I know I have used this example before, but bear with me. I am a woman in ministry. I preach, teach, lead worship etc. Fulfilling this sense of God’s calling on my life is an extension and expression of my personhood. There are brothers and sisters in Christ who are deeply convicted that at least aspects of my fulfilling this call are contraindicated by Scripture. Some of them are activists in the sense that they seek to prohibit women from serving in ministry. They want to convince others that their position is the only true and correct one. Interestingly, some would also consider themselves to be advocates for women. They affirm that women are given spiritual gifts and ought to use them in advancing the Kingdom of God – but there are limits and conditions on how they can use their gifts. Now, I would disagree with them on some of the boundaries they place on women. But I am confronted with the challenge of whether or not I judge their sense of advocacy to be genuine or not – and whether or not I will receive their attempts as helpful or not. I am faced with the choice to decry their attempts as a cover for some negative ulterior motive or to accept their limited attempts at advocacy as a genuine attempt to affirm and honour the personhood of women. To choose the latter requires maturity and generosity on my part. It would be much easier to write them off with bitterness in my heart for the ways they limit my personhood as a woman in ministry. But I am confronted with the need to honour their convictions – even if I disagree with them. Now, I need to exercise discernment to try to understand if this is about true conviction or thinly cloaked prejudice and misogyny – but if I’m honest usually it is a matter of conviction. The ones who are misogynistic are outright hostile towards women and promote a “they belong in the kitchen or birthing babies” kind of rhetoric. In the face of these ‘advocates’ I have the opportunity to respond in a manner that smells like Jesus as I humble myself, open myself, offer the benefit of the doubt, and receive their attempts to affirm my personhood. In a similar manner (recognizing that these are two distinct examples), sexual minorities are faced with the advocacy attempts of those who, on the basis of their convictions, either hold a side B perspective (God’s calling to gay people is celibacy) or are either unsure or don’t reveal where they land on the question of the appropriateness of sexually consummated same-sex relationships. Such advocates want to affirm the dignity of the personhood of sexual minorities – but hold heteronormative views on sexual relationships. I see a variety of responses from gay people. I see, in some, an understandable suspicion about the true or ulterior motives of these ‘advocates’. This suspicion can translate into attempts to expose the perceived duplicitous nature of such advocacy attempts. I have to wonder, however, if in the process they unwittingly do the very thing Tutu warns us about, “If I diminish you, I diminish myself”. In others, I see a cautious openness. There is a willingness to extend the benefit of the doubt – but this is accompanied by the expectation that the advocate will prove themselves …. And sometimes the process of proving oneself is never really sufficient. Yet others, express cautious openness by engaging in conversation and seeking understanding through dialogue. And in some, I see a mature understanding that convictions, even if they are convictions they disagree with, do not negate a person’s attempt to value the personhood of sexual minorities. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not labelling those who are perhaps suspicious or cautiously open as immature. They may be very mature in a variety of ways in their lives. But I do think the ability to differentiate between convictions about actions and behaviours and the valuing of personhood does demand a level of maturity – simply because it is a very difficult and challenging thing to do. One can be very intelligent and understand all the finer points of a given argument and still lack the humility and maturity to receive well-intentioned advocacy efforts from someone with whom they disagree on a given issue. And while such a response is very understandable – I am not convinced that it will ever lead to peace or unity. And as a follower of Jesus, I am deeply motivated by the reality that peace and unity were things Jesus highly prioritized and prayed for. I don’t expect that we will experience uniformity on questions around sexual ethics anytime soon – either in our society or in the faith community. The need for bridge-building in the midst of difference and diversity isn’t going away. Finding common ground in these endeavours is essential. And the valuing of our personhood, with the recognition that the reality of our sexuality is an essential part of this personhood (note: the reality not the wished for outcome), is one of the most significant points of connection. That will mean we need to learn to extend space and room for one another’s unique convictions – while at the same time standing up for the honest expression of fully authentic personhood regardless of our differences. To fail to do so is to the impoverishment of us all. In my workshop at the GCN conference last weekend, I found myself unexpectedly pleading with the participants to not ‘settle for scraps’ as they sought to find a home, as sexual minorities, within the church. I say unexpectedly because it was not something in my notes – but with my years of experience in preaching and teaching, I knew that it was a moment of Holy Spirit intervention. If those outside the heterosexual mainstream quietly accept the diminishment of their authentic personhood – of which their sexuality is an integral part – it will be to the diminishment of the entire Body of Christ. This is not a statement about side A (committed same-sex relationships) or side B (celibacy). It is a statement about equally valuing our personhood as Beloved creations of the Living God. I believe it is the truest and deepest expression of the greatest Advocate, our Lord Jesus Christ.

-WG

hanging out with about 400 gay Christian friends

Last weekend I attended the Gay Christian conference in Denver. I’ve been pondering how to write about this experience and giving myself a little space to process before doing so. This is the third time I have gathered with this community. The first time, in 2007, I went incognito (with full disclosure to their leadership) while still serving as the regional rep. for Exodus. I wanted to listen, observe and be open to whatever God might impress on me. My second conference was last year. I was “out of the closet” so-to-speak as an ex-Exodus leader and straight advocate leading a side B ministry. (For those of you unfamiliar with the terminology, side B would view celibacy as the God-honouring option for gay people). I did a workshop on bridge-building that year with great trepidation, but with a great reception from the participants. Over my years of conversations with both ex-gay and gay folks, I have often heard people recount their first experience going to a gay bar. As they told the story, people would often express a familiar sentiment, “I felt like I was at home immediately.” They told of finally feeling like they fit somewhere, like they belonged, like they were understood, like they were safe to be fully themselves. When I would hear these stories, often I would feel a sense of longing in my heart that rather than a gay bar, these friends would be telling this kind of story about the church community they were part of. What they described was what I prayed and hoped the church would be. Being at the conference this year was a bit like that experience for me. Because I felt like I knew more people and more people knew me, I felt more comfortable this year than my past two experiences. People are often surprised to hear this, but I can be shy and hesitant with new crowds of people. Give me an audience of 500 people and I’m fine – but ask me to get to know a new group of nearly 500 people and I’d rather have a cup of tea in my room. In the other two years, I was also extremely sensitive about not wanting my presence to be uncomfortable, or worse yet, unsafe for other participants. But this year, I felt more free to simply be. And I felt accepted. I could laugh. I could worship. I could be myself. I could hug….. a lot. I could extend love and I could receive love. And it was a beautiful thing. I found that there was a maturity at this conference in navigating the differences that were present in this community. One of the unique things about GCN is the hospitality that is extended to gay Christians regardless of whether they are ‘side B’ (celibacy) or ‘side A’ (committed relationships). Because of the commitment to nurturing a space where people can be authentic, there was grace and care extended to honour one another’s convictions – even where they differed. There was a space where we could worship together – and see one another first and foremost as a brother or sister in Christ. This has always been the goal of GCN – but at this particular conference, I found that the conversations were truly generous and spacious. There was room for one another. And this was a beautiful thing for me. The primary priorities were expression of faith in Christ and the opportunity to be real about the experience of being same-sex attracted. With these priorities, this group of 400 or so people were modelling what New Direction is about. The dismantling of polarity and enmity, the room to explore and grow in faith in Christ, the ability to see and honour one another’s humanity despite differences, the openness to being enlarged in grace, patience, humility and generosity, and the demonstration of a unified witness to the love of Christ. And in this space, I was personally touched and blessed. There was a warmth and love that was tangible. I could really resonate with the focus areas that Justin Lee, Executive Director of GCN, shared in his closing keynote. The ones that struck me most were: a commitment to continue to be an authentic and generous community with the identified need to be sensitive and honouring of the side B people who are part of the community, a need to build bridges with the ex-gay community and to take care to not be perceived as bad-mouthing while at the same time giving room and voice to those who felt their ex-gay experiences were hurtful and detrimental to their spiritual and personal journeys, an emphasis on service and justice as a natural extension of being part of the Body of Christ, being a bridge to the secular gay community, being sensitive and relationally open to Muslim people rather than seeing them as the enemy, serving churches as a resource with their stories. I’m probably forgetting some really important points – but these were the ones that stuck with me and encouraged me. In many ways, I experienced similar things at Exodus conferences I have attended in the past. It seems to me that part of the beautiful authenticity at Exodus conferences came from people being able to “let their hair down” about their reality of their same-sex attractions. In that sense, they were being themselves – not worried about who knew. A sense of solidarity and community and a safe place to be real. At the same time, was the effort to move to a place that was beyond the experience of same-sex attraction. And for some, this was a deeper and more meaningful place of authenticity. For others, what seemed more authentic at the time, eventually felt like a shroud and a mask that hid the authenticity of their true selves. My intent is not to compare or critique the two experiences. What strikes me, however, is that the most meaningful part of the experiences for me were the opportunities to worship with people hungry for God (definitely tangible in both experiences) and the chance to witness and experience authenticity of people who felt free and safe to own their reality and be themselves. At the conference this year, I had the opportunity to interview and film 16 different gay Christians for a new pastor’s project I am working on. The premise behind this project is my sense of the assumptions that can easily become unhelpful barriers in the extension of hospitality to gay Christians. I have found that pastors have some assumptions about what a gay Christian might need, want or expect from a church or from them as a pastor. And I have found that some gay Christians have assumptions about how a pastor might respond to them. (These assumptions are understandably often tied to unhelpful or painful experiences with churches and pastors in the past.) So, as I interviewed people, they had the opportunity to express what they would hope to encounter in a church and in a pastor. The common thread, without question, was a willingness to listen and dialogue. I’m excited to see this project take shape as a bridge-building effort to enlarge understanding and openness. If you would be willing to participate in this project and you are either a pastor or a gay Christian, please do email me directly. In addition to the interviews, I had the opportunity to hear some very interesting stories. Stories that have stuck with me. I got to hear about a gentleman who was married to his wife for 55 years. He was open with his wife about his same-sex orientation throughout their marriage. He was faithful to her and he loved her. After she died, he had the opportunity to meet and connect with a same-sex companion. They are now sharing these twilight years of life together. I met a women who came out in her 70’s. She shared with me that every New Year’s day she would take the day to fast and pray and hear from the Lord what special assignments or ministry opportunities He had for her for the coming year. A couple of years ago, she found herself praying and in the Word throughout the day but strangely didn’t seem to be getting any direction from the Lord. As the day was coming to a close, she sensed the Lord telling her that her assignment for that year had to do with her. And she knew immediately what that meant. She had paradoxically been aware of her same-sex orientation and stuffed this awareness deep within her throughout her life. She sensed that God was inviting her to a deeper level of authenticity. She said the first thing she needed to do was to come out to herself. Subsequently, she came out to her immediate family. Several of her church-going children no longer speak to her and she has essentially no contact with her grandchildren. For her, this step towards authenticity has been a profoundly costly one – yet also one that has enriched her relationship with God and with herself. One of the women I interviewed had the most amazing singing voice. I sat in front of her during the final Sunday morning communion service and her incredible harmonies blessed and thrilled me. When I bumped into her in the hallway later, she told me how much my workshop on “Engaging the Global Evangelical Church” had meant to her. I told her how beautiful her singing voice was and how it had blessed me. She then went on to tell me the most amazing story of having lost her voice some 15 years earlier due to some growth on her vocal chords. She said that she would lose her voice on and off lasting for sometimes weeks at a time. After some time of this, she asked again for prayer from members of her church. While driving home, she felt like God said to her, “You have not because you ask not.” At that point, she began to pray for God to restore her voice, she called on the name of Jesus to break any power or stronghold of the enemy, and asked for her inheritance as a daughter of the King. She was describing a prayer of faith. And indeed, the next day her voice returned and she has not lost it since. She was joyful and confident in bearing witness to God’s gift of healing in her life. I heard stories of pain. I heard stories of joy. I heard stories of struggle. I heard stories of love. One young man who had connected with New Direction shared in the closing time. He told of being suicidal and how much coming to this conference had meant to him. I didn’t recognize him – but went up to him to apologize for any way that New Direction might have been hurtful to him. He told me that he had connected in the mid-nineties (way before my time – but he looked about 18 so I’d assumed it must have been during my tenure). He wept as I held him in an embrace. I think it was healing for both of us. I was able to pray for him and with him. And as we parted ways, I felt that this had been a tangible expression of nurturing the kind of space in which faith and authenticity are priorities. One of the gifts given to me this past weekend was the opportunity to be the kind of person I long to be. I long to be one who loves well. In my regular, day-to-day life, there are plenty of things that rise up to challenge and frustrate these intentions of my heart. Maybe some of you can relate to that. But at the conference, I felt very free to simply love people where they’re at. To extend a warm embrace. To listen and be fully present. To empathize and share sorrow for hurts and disappointments. To laugh and find joy. And in the process of loving well, I too, was loved. And for this, I am so very grateful.

-WG

Welcoming 2011!

Happy New Year friends! Thank you for interacting with this blog in the last year. I look forward to continuing to explore and expand our experience of generous spaciousness together in the conversation to come. As I think about the coming year, I wanted to share with you a picture that has struck me as a beautiful metaphor for the space this blog seeks to nurture. This year for the season of Advent our congregation focused on the image of the plumb line found in Isaiah 28:

“So this is what the Sovereign LORD says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; the one who relies on it will never be stricken with panic. I will make justice the measuring line and righteousness the plumb line.”

According to Wikipedia, “A plumb-bob or a plummet is a weight, usually with a pointed tip on the bottom, that is suspended from a string and used as a vertical reference line, or plumb-line.” The idea is that our commitment to and outworking of justice is the measure through which we find our alignment with the heart of God. The Hebrew word translated as ‘righteousness’ in the Isaiah text is tseh'-dek. This word is found over 500 times in the Old Testament and means: righteous, integrity, equity, justice. In English we tend to view ‘righteousness’ as correct moral, ethical behaviour. But when we return to the Hebrew, we are reminded that this key aspect of God’s character and his call to us has everything to do with how we treat others. God is perfectly righteous – he is perfectly just and equitable. His heart towards all he has made is perfectly complete in the love he extends, without favouritism, and his desire for all to experience the shalom that brings his intentions for wholeness. Justice is an important, essential aspect of the conversations that emerge at the intersection of faith and sexuality. Unfortunately, this idea of justice has at times had a polarizing effect. Different understandings of what justice for sexual minorities is contributes to the theological arguments concerning appropriate relationships and experiences of intimacy. What God intended to be the measure of our alignment with his heart has become a lightning rod for separation from and judgment of one another. My prayer is that we will have the opportunity to continue to explore justice together through our diversity and our conversations in 2011. My prayer is that we would seek and find alignment with God’s heart – even in the midst of our differences. I was encouraged by the image of our Christmas tree in our church. What I found fascinating as I contemplated this tree, was that there were multiple plumb lines. While the tree features two sides, it seemed to me that the centre of the tree, this double helix, was representative of the Incarnation. In Jesus, the human and the divine perfectly meet. He is bigger than our differences. It struck me, as I gazed at the reflection of the tree on the ceiling that the dominant image was that centre piece. I don’t have all the answers to our differences. I don’t know how we find unity in such diversity. I don’t know how to navigate such strong convictions on both sides. I don’t have the perfect response to those who worry about moral relativism. But I do know that when we centre ourselves in Christ, we can trust him to lead us. When we find our resting place in him, we will find his justice for one another. This is my prayer for 2011.

-WG