"Spiritual Friendship"

Check out Spiritual Friendship, a blog founded by Ron Belgau and Wesley Hill, where a solid line-up of Side B gay Christian writers reflect on celibacy as a positive calling and vocation, attempting to get away from the largely negative message of the evangelical church that celibacy is all about "don't do this" and "don't do that."

In this recent interview by Martyn Jones, Wes Hill explains:

Jesus had some very counter-cultural things to say about family, and he ended up relativizing its importance (Matthew 12:46-50). What ultimately mattered to him was no longer marriage and the begetting of children; he required absolute loyalty to himself, and for some people this meant renouncing marriage and childbearing for the sake of the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 19:12). Because we’ve downplayed those themes in evangelicalism, we haven’t really been motivated to think hard about how to support the celibate vocation and how its witness could enrich—or, to switch the metaphor, be folded into and knit together with—the vocation to marriage.

. . . I’d like to see all kinds of things change in our churches: I’d like more teaching from our pulpits and classrooms about the why and how of celibacy (lots of biblical material to draw from here, especially 1 Corinthians 7). I’d like to see single people integrated into all levels of ministry, from committees and task forces to pastoral teams and vestries and Sunday School teachers. I’d like to see every after-church meal (whether in the fellowship hall or in members’ homes) include an odd number of chairs. I’d love to see singles feeling free to invite married people over for lunch or dinner without being afraid of getting head-patting comments about how nice it is that a single person knows how to cook!

I would add, if I may, that I'd like to see more gay celibate men ordained to the gospel ministry. As long as straight conservative Christians like to advocate celibacy as a solution for gay Christians, then such churches should be willing to ordain many of them as those who have a calling similar to the apostle Paul's.

He who is unmarried cares for the things of the Lord--how he may please the Lord. But he who is married cares about the things of the world--how he may please his wife. -- 1 Corinthians 7:32-33

For other counter-cultural musings that ruffle feathers all around--whether in the conservative church, the liberal church or the secular world--please check out Spiritual Friendship.

On having gay friends, part 2

In a previous post I already talked about what it means to have gay friends, and you may have gathered from what I discussed that most of them are Christians. Gay Christians, to use the controversial term. So what do we talk about? No doubt many people think that my conversations with gay Christians centers around sex, sex, and more sex. How do I stomach it? Either I am extraordinarily tolerant, or there is something seriously wrong with me.

Actually it's neither. To give you an idea of what I mean, how many of you have straight Christian friends? Show of hands. Now, how often do you discuss sex with any of them? Over pancakes at IHOP? Over coffee in the fellowship hall? During play dates? I'd expect the two most popular answers would be: Rarely or Never. Well, that pretty much sums up my own experience with gay Christian friends. And I'm leaning toward Never.

What do we talk about then? I suppose everything you ought to talk about when you count honest fellowship time as precious and rare. When I talk to gay Christians, the unspoken rule seems to be that nothing is off the table. Everything is okay, this is a judgment-free zone. I don't sense the usual barriers of pride, or the subtle game of spiritual one-upmanship. I can talk about having doubts, for instance. I can talk about being angry with God. I can talk about depression and disillusionment. I don't always talk about these things, and I make sure I do my share of listening. But knowing I can talk about them is what makes the difference.

You see, gay Christians face a problem with many of their straight Christian friends. Either they have to keep their conversation superficial because their friends don't know they are gay. Or if these friends do know, they still have to keep the conversation superficial because most straights get uncomfortable or even hostile when it comes to honest talk about the struggles and challenges of being gay.  

But gay Christians aren't the only ones who have to do the stifling. A lot of straight Christians can also relate to the depressing reality that sometimes church is the last place you are allowed to share your real problems. Like when your marriage is about to collapse. Or your teenager is cutting herself. Or you suffer depression from the secret abortion you had ten years ago.

When you're aching for fellowship that's authentic and truthful, you need to seek out people who know what it really means to walk by faith through deep waters, who won't judge you as you flounder through your own journey. And if you know what I'm talking about then you'll understand why my gay Christian friends are such a treasure to me. They are a blessing and a gift from God. I wish everyone would avail themselves of such a blessing, but if not, I'd be more than happy to enjoy it all for myself.

On having gay friends

Remember how it was when you were a kid and your mom talked about you in the third person to someone else while you were standing right there? Annoying, yes? Well, I'm about to do a similarly annoying thing--which is one of the difficult things about having a blog that is read by people on both sides of a divide. I would like to talk to straights about what it means to have a gay friend, which obligates me to talk about my friendships with some of you guys who read this site in that annoyingly objectifying third-person way. Sorry, I hope this is not too off-putting. Most of all, I hope the day comes when it will no longer be necessary to have to write a post like this.

But it is necessary to write this post. Because quite often when I talk about having gay friends to straights, I get the odd feeling that I wasn't supposed to bring that up, like talking about some unmentionable tattoo you got in your wild days. Or occasionally I'll be congratulated on my great condescension to befriend people who are "so different" and yet who are, of course, "sinners like ourselves"--a humbling lesson for us all as we go about being light and salt in a dark world.

In the former situation, I never manage to feel as embarrassed as everyone expects. In the latter situation I am embarrassed, because I just stand there taking undeserved credit while some well-meaning person goes on and on praising my supposed piety.

So allow me to clear the air and talk about what it means when I say I am friends with someone who is gay or lesbian.

For me, the first rule of friendship is that I have to like this person. I don't make friends with people I don't like (and neither should you, by the way). Fortunately, it's not difficult for me to find things I like about people who are thoughtful, honest, introspective, compassionate and courageous, which fits the profile of many gay and lesbian people I know simply because of kind of hardships they've been through. I also like people who think outside the box, have a sense of humor, and understand that life can be disappointing so that they appreciate how things like a good meal, good conversation or a decent movie can get you through the day. Now, you may not care for the crowd I hang with, and that's fine. My point is, being friends with someone who is gay should have nothing to do with heroism, condescension or even tolerance. When you're friends with someone, gay or otherwise, you should enjoy hanging with them.

You might object that loving people is more important than liking them, so shouldn't I be emphasizing that instead? I know that love is supposed to be biblical and all, yet I've become somewhat suspicious of that approach. I've noticed that we tend to justify committing all sorts of abuses and cruelties against people in the name of love (at least our idea of love), particularly against our gay friends and family members. Don't ask me why. All I know is that if you work on how you're going to "be loving" toward someone who is gay, you're liable to say or do something very un-Christian. But if you work on liking someone, you'll have a much better chance of being like Christ to them.

Second, I am friends with people I have stuff in common with. I'm a Christian so I have gay Christian friends. I'm conservative in my theology and many of my political beliefs, so I tend to have gay friends who are theologically and/or politically conservative. I'm a seminary grad, a former pastor's wife and currently an elder's wife, so I have gay friends who are involved in the ministry. You get the idea.

I bring up this obvious point because I have a feeling that some people, when they hear me talk about having gay friends, wonder how I manage to befriend that guy marching in the pride parade with only his army boots and a leather thong. Truth is, I probably don't have much in common with that guy so I don't end up befriending him. See how simple that is? Now, I did have a good friend (now deceased) who was an atheist and a frequenter of leather bars. But we shared similar political views, a dry sense of humor, a passion for writing, and various nerdy intellectual interests. We talked about those things, and once in a while we'd discuss atheism and religious belief, but we didn't talk about leather bars, which I knew next to nothing about anyhow.

Third, friendship is a two-way street. My friends are people who are helpful to me as I am to them, who encourage me as I encourage them, and who understand me as I seek to understand them. And unless they are atheist, we will even pray for one another. This brings us back to the problem with "love" because here is where I think Christians get tripped up. Sometimes when you determine that you are going to "love" another person, you subtly start viewing that person as someone who needs you, not as someone whom you need just as much. And since this person who is the object of your great loving affection needs you, your approval and your advice so much, that gives you the right to be stern, instructive and somewhat overbearing, particularly when you believe you know what is best for them.

On the other hand, if someone is truly your friend, then you ought to have the humility to recognize that you can't just say whatever the heck you want, because if you drive them away you are hurting yourself too. You will be more gentle, more respectful, and make a genuine effort to be winsome and helpful. If you hurt that person and they walk away, you won't smugly tell yourself that "that's just the collateral damage of speaking the truth in love." You would feel quite devastated, and you wouldn't rest until you made things right.

Now you might be saying, "This is all fine and good, but where am I going to find gay or lesbian friends whom I like, with whom I have stuff in common, and whom I genuinely value having in my life?" The answer is, you probably already have them in your life, they just haven't come out to you yet. So I suppose for most of you who are reading this, the best way to go about having gay friends is this: don't reject the friends you already have when they do come out to you. Stay the course. Remember that you like this person, you like hanging with them, and that's why you're friends. And if this friend has trusted you so much that he or she is willing to come out to you, your friendship with them should deepen, not grow more distant.

No girlie-men here

I have a lot of gay male friends, and it is always annoying when I sense that my straight friends who have never met any of them usually imagine them as womanish guys. As if for me it's no different than having girlfriends and all we do is talk about hair spray. But nothing could be further from the truth. With the gay men I know, I've found it to be just the opposite, that in many ways they are more guyish than straight guys.

There's a reason for that. Straight guys have to mingle with women. They have to adjust their behavior to get along with women because after all they are either married to one or might get married to one someday. In other words their heterosexual sex drive makes accommodating the female species a necessary survival skill. Gay men on the other hand do not have as pressing a need to associate with women. Many of them can and do exist in an all-male world. Of course it's not good to make too many generalizations, and many gay men do have female friends Will & Grace style. But the fact remains, women aren't as necessary a part of a gay man's world as they are a straight man's world.

The kind of friend every woman should have

With my first gay male friend, the first thing I noticed in our email exchanges was just how--I don't know how else to put it--strictly male he was in the way he answered my questions about homosexuality. There was none of this kindly condescension I'd get from straight guys, as if they think it's kind of cute to hear a girl talking all intellectual--and whatever you do don't hurt her feelings! Not so with Bob. He was very respectful but strictly business. I'd throw out one idea and he'd simply say, "Yeah, I think you're onto something." Or, "No, that's not how it is." No big cheering section for thinking profound thoughts, and no holding back if I'm a little off-base.

Talking with Bob was refreshing and intimidating. I'd hadn't realized until then how much I had subconsciously relied on straight guys having lower intellectual standards for me (something that is probably subconscious on their part too). However, I discovered when the guy is gay, you're more likely to get the straight scoop (so to speak). For the first time in my experience talking with a guy, it felt simply like one human being talking to another. Now, whenever I seek the opinion of some of my gay male friends I have to be ready to hear the truth. And if they approve I feel more satisfaction, and take away a greater sense of self-confidence.