The Difficulties of Becoming a Gay-Affirming Christian
So you’re a Christian. You love Jesus. You love the Bible. Perhaps as you were growing up, you were at church every time the doors opened because you found comfort, welcome, and community there. Maybe you were a passionate, on-fire, purity-ring-wearing youth group kid who “rededicated” your life to the Lord every six months or so, just to keep your faith fresh.
Then you settled into the beauty of a love-conversation with Jesus that has nurtured you throughout your adult life. But while you usually checked all the boxes to support the label “Good Christian Girl,” you had a secret. You held some beliefs and convictions close to your heart for fear of rejection or discrimination by the church. Beliefs that you never dared speak aloud in certain company but which mattered to you in big, important ways. Convictions that would end up mattering profoundly both in your own life and in the lives of those you love.
This was me. I grew up a “textbook Christian”—a perfectionistic, people-pleasing firstborn who said and did all the “right” things. My parents were Republicans, and my upbringing was very conservative. When I was eighteen, I voted for George W. Bush in my first-ever presidential election and felt good about it. But that wasn’t the whole story for me. For as long as I can remember, my heart has been pulled in another direction. When it came to the LGBTQ community, I just couldn’t jump on the conservative bandwagon. Even as a child, something about my church’s verbiage about gay people felt wrong to me. I wrestled with the Lord. I begged him to change my heart if I was wrong. But if anything, my heart softened even further. I couldn’t see an “issue”—I could see only people loved by God.
Several years ago, long before anyone other than my mom read my writing, I wrote a simple blog post that later evolved into an article on the Huffington Post. It’s titled “Jesus Would Have Hung Out at Gay Bars.” After the heart-shattering tragedy of the Pulse nightclub shooting in Florida, the article went viral, and then the backlash began. In the name of “being loving,” friends and relatives insinuated that I was a heretic. They told me I was a false teacher and that I was leading others astray. A former boss was quick to let me know that, if I still worked for him, he would fire me because of my opinions.
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, and I quickly learned that I needed to be far more careful about who I shared my “heretical opinions” with. I worked in a conservative ministry setting, and in the name of loving others and supporting civil rights, I learned that my very livelihood could be at stake. Church, a place that had always made me feel safe, didn’t feel safe anymore.
I lived in the uncomfortable tension of this gray area for years (a place where I think we all ought to spend some time) until the dam broke open and flooded me with a fresh perspective. Within the course of a year, two of the people I loved most in the world came out and told me they were gay.
I won’t share these beloved people’s stories here, because those stories are theirs alone to tell. But I will tell you that when the news broke in certain circles in my life, the proverbial excrement hit the fan, and I became the mediator and peacemaker between key players during the subsequent weeks and months of emotional upheaval. Many tears were cried. Gut-wrenchingly difficult conversations became a common occurrence. Prayers became desperate. Emotions ran high. All of this took a significant amount of time, but I truly believe that God was sovereign and working in each of our hearts individually.
Now I am delighted to say that every key player who stood in opposition to those people I love when they came out has come to identify as a fully gay-affirming Christian. They started attending a Jesus-loving, Bible-preaching, and yes, gay-affirming church, and you can find them at the local pride festival every year, waving their rainbow flags proudly and loving Jesus too.
I’m not here to argue about the politics of marriage equality; you can debate that at length in a million other forums. What I am here to say is that if you’re a Christian who loves and supports the LGBTQ community or is a part of the LGBTQ community yourself, you are not alone. If you’re a Christian who goes to a same-sex wedding with joy, raises a toast, and dances your heart out, you are not alone. And you are not a heretic. Your choice to show love and acceptance when so many others choose to show indifference or hate will not return void. You and those you love don’t need to feel like black sheep. We who make the same choice to love might exist in the margins, but we are here, and there are more of us than you might think. The power of our love matters, and it is slowly, quietly changing the world.
In John 13:35, we’re told Jesus said, “Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples” (NLT).
is a writer, speaker, wife, and over-caffeinated toddler mom. After 10 years in the nonprofit world, she now writes full-time. You can find her on Scary Mommy, The Mighty, The Natural Parent, Parent Co, and Her View From Home. She loves Jesus, long walks on the beach, honey habañero lattes, and Zoloft. Her website is kimberlypoovey.com.
Photograph © Cory Woodward, used with permission
Kimberly,
Your piece had me in quiet tears at work. Thank you for your commitment to affirming the love that God has for all of God’s children. Thank you for being a voice from “the margins” that is “slowly, quietly changing the world.” May you be blessed, as you are such a blessing.
Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
Wow, thank you so much for bravely sharing your story, Kimberly! I’m in the mix between Christian and LGBT, as well. Seeing people like you shout out love over the landscape of fear and anger is so encouraging! Thank you for embracing the full Jesus.
Thank you so much for writing this. Many of us have come through the same journey, usually because someone we love “coming out” forces us to examine what the Bible really says and what Jesus really said. It’s amazing how people will turn on you when you suggest that Jesus is more loving and more gracious than we had imagined! <3
Thank you. Thank you thank you. I think many of us have been where you have been. Sometimes hiding in the closet afraid. Sometimes set on fire and thrown into the alley by people we thought we could trust. Sometimes betrayed. Sometimes, in a whisper, someone says, thank you for saying that.. I thought I was the only one.
I too work in a Christian Ministry I love. I too hold affirming Theology and often feel surrounded by people who won’t even read a single book, but know the clobber verses. They believe they are loving, but I don’t even feel loved. And if I feel unsafe… How must my lgbtq friends feel?
Thank you for setting a glorious table.
Thank you for this beautiful piece. I, too, wrestle with this gray area. It is taught one way however it is also taught that we are ALL called to love as Jesus does. So that is the teaching I hold on to. I do attend a church that does not hold judgment and is a “come as you are” church. I love this! My heart hurts for those who do not find love because they are part of the LGBTQ community. I have two very close friends who are the most fantastic women and amazing mommies who are life partners. I would have missed out of having the pleasure and joy of having them as my friends if I continued to hold onto the conservative train of thought. They are a true blessing in my life. I think if we just try to love one another, grace and acceptance will come.
I feel like you literally wrote about my story and my childhood. I haven’t been brave enough to write something like this, but I want to this year. I’m tired of hiding and I’m tired of shielding myself via silence. Thank you for your bravery, honesty, and courage. It makes others, like me, brave too.
Thank you, Kimberly, for this powerful article. I grew up raised by a wild atheist. The benefit? I hung out with gay folks at bars with my father. I have always, always, always had a love for this group of people who welcomed a socially awkward kid to their circle. I look forward to the day when all churches are affirming. Incidentally, I’m reading through Jeff Chu’s book “Does Jesus Really Love Me?” and it is a fantastic read about the complex experiences our LGBTQIA brothers and sisters have. Thanks again.
Thank you for sharing your perspective, beliefs and trials… I, too, had that feeling about homosexuals being “left out” since I was a teenager (now 65)… As the years have gone by I’ve come to know several relative who have come out… I love them as they are and long to see them full included in the life of the church.. I have gotten bolder in my “old age” and realize that in my privileged whiteness I have a voice that I can use to speak out for justice. There is a price to pay sometimes, I’m in deep conflict with my brother over my beliefs (we’ve basically agreed not to talk about it) and a few friends who are struggling to figure out the right thing to do, and again we just don’t talk about it much.. I am a leader in my local church, I am respected and I am willing to take the risk to keep on chipping away at the old in search of the new. Actions speak louder than words, so I will strive to love God, and my neighbor (and my brother) as my self. Thanks again for your post.
No where in Scripture does it say to hate gays. People are selective in their reading to support their own comfort. I can disagree with a lifestyle – any kind – and still set a place for them as my table. As God has invited me, so I invite.
Kimberly, thank you for sharing your heart. I know too well this journey! Thank you for your boldness and eloquence!.
Forever grateful for you!
Mary
Thank you for sharing your story. Your church going formative years resonate with me, especially your feelings that “something about the church’s verbiage about gay people felt wrong…” — Never quite sat right with me either. Living in a small conservative community in Canada where the only LBGTQ affirming church has only a dozen members gets a little lonely sometimes. It’s great to hear encouraging articles like yours reminding all that there is plenty of room at Christ’s table for everyone. Thankful for Christian platforms like this and it’s editors publishing your article, flack be damned.
Thank you!!
Two points:
First, there’s no such thing as being over-caffeinated (especially when you have a toddler).
Second, when Jesus commanded us to love each other, I believe He was commanding us to be compassionate towards others; to treat each other with compassion. Whether we are straight or not, we are all imperfect. And though we are imperfect, it’s through our compassion for each other that we live the perfect life Jesus envisioned.
I think Ravi Zacharias summed it up nicely when he said, “Christians are required to love those with whom they disagree, never to hate the individual, and that only God can judge others, because only God is pure in his judgement, while people can make errors.”
I consider it good advice for Christians to follow.
Well written and well said. I want this to be required reading in every church. Reach out to me if you need support.
Kimberly,
Thank you for your brave and honest post. Your description of yourself could be me (only a generation earlier). The church I love is at a crossroads as we seek to have holy conversations about truly being an open and welcoming place where ALL people can feel accepted. It takes that hard work of looking at scripture in a new way. My experience has been that most who consider being gay a sin don’t really know anyone who is gay. It’s not a “choice”.
I once had friends who became foster parents to five Native American girls. These girls came from a tribe that believed and taught that stealing was acceptable, even commendable, so long as you didn’t steal from your own people. These girls were constantly stealing things from my friends’ home, and hiding them in their rooms. My friends could have shown the girls acceptance by affirming their practice of stealing, but they loved those girls too much to do that. With much frustration and patience, they taught the girls by example, by illustrations, and with Scripture that what they were doing was not pleasing to God or to society because it simply was not good. You might think that they hated those girls or that they were prejudiced against them because they were Indians; but I know how very much they cared for them, and wanted only the best for their futures.
Over time, three of the girls came to believe in the truth about stealing, and gave up the practice. The other two continued their habits, and last I heard, they had gotten into trouble with the law and were destined for a correctional institution. This made my friends very sad.
When David did what was pretty much acceptable practice for kings in his time, Nathan did not come to affirm him; he came to confront him with God’s truth. David responded, by realizing the harm he had done and repenting. Then, grace was extended.
The God of infinite love, the God who loves us far too much to be willing to let us continue a practice that is hurtful, has given us His opinion of homosexuality. We Christians have allowed the world to convince us that God didn’t really mean what He said.
Please, if you want to love with the kind of love Jesus taught, read how the Father feels about homosexuality. Read it for yourself in Leviticus 18:22, and 20:13. And what Paul, representing Jesus as His apostle had to say in Romans 1:26,27.
If God feels that strongly about homosexuality, should we be lovingly affirming or lovingly confronting the practice?
Kimberly, *thank you* for writing this excellent article. I’m am a Christian who was born and raised in the church. I’ve loved God from a young age, always felt His presence in my life.
When I turned 14 however, this peace began to slip through my fingers in the most painful of ways. In just a matter of months, my relationship with God began to take a sharp detour, one which would over the next 11 years began to twist more and more until gradually, against my will and despite my guttural pleas for help, my faith in God which had brought me such peace and joy shifted to become something that brought me deep deep fear. This all began when I was 14 and realized that I was gay.
It was near this time, at the age of 15, that I penned a contract with God. In this letter, I wrote:
“Jesus, I hate myself. God I lift this thorn up to you. I ask you to take it. I don’t want it. Make me someone completely different.”
My scribbly signature still sits at the bottom of that letter atop a dotted line which is followed by the words: “God, I am your slave”.
It was at this time in my life (although likely years before) that I now see that a seed was planted. A tiny little seed of shame that burrowed deep within my soul. And as I grew, so did this seed. It did not need to be told to grow. No one watered it. It simply needed to be left alone, in the dark where shame grows best.
Through most of my 20s, I was able to ignore or mask this pain by focusing on my career. New opportunities opened up for me in my work in Christian ministry and in business, and I eagerly pursued them. I pushed hard to accomplish everything I could, everything I believed I needed to achieve to prove to everyone (but really to myself) that I wasn’t broken and that I was worthy of admiration.
In 2018, at the age of 25, I had what I can only describe as a complete mental, emotional, and spiritual breakdown. I could not physically or emotionally function and I hardly slept for three days, as my body became overtaken with anxiety and grief. One evening, I went to a beach to watch a sunset and as I was standing in the sand, I was overcome with anguish so profound that collapsed. I felt physically ill and thought I might vomit from the uncontrollable and guttural sobbing that took me over. And in that moment, I wondered what would happen if I never stood up from that patch of sand. I wondered how long it would take for them to find me there, tucked away in the dune grass. I wondered if they would ask why this successful 25-year Christian was found on the beach. I wondered if they would read my journals and find the answer.
It is when I reached this breaking point, this lowest of all my lows that I realized to myself that I had to deal with this for my own health and safety. Hiding alone in utter despair and self-hatred was — almost literally — killing me.
Over the months that followed, I began to get serious about reconciling this part of my life. I listened to countless sermons and lectures from varying perspectives, I read dozens of books, I listened to hundreds of podcasts and interviews, I combed through historical documents and translation guides. I even got so serious as to attend conferences and seminars. I spent thousands of dollars in months of professional therapy, which I am still attending weekly.
Through this process, I have slowly, carefully, and kindly begun to knit back together the parts of my heart that had been torn in two. I slowly began to process the shame and isolation that I lived in for so many years and unpack the deeply rooted messages that I was broken, disgusting, and morally corrupt. And I’m glad to say that I’ve done a LOT of healing. Not every day is good, and there are still times when it’s hard. There are days where I still feel like I’m a sinner bound for hell. There are days where I get angry and want to run as far away from God and Christianity as I can because of all the ways it so efficiently led me to hate a core part of myself. There are days where I miss being in the closet where I could hide and pretend and not have to confront hard things, just “go with the flow” and “praise Jesus” while doing it. But these kinds of hard days, thank God, are now in the minority. Most of the time, I feel incredibly grateful to be alive. Incredibly loved by my family and dear dear friends. I feel close to God, in a different way than before, but in a way that is so much more personal and gentle. Most of all, I feel happy and confident. I feel excited to wake up in the morning. I look in the mirror and for the first time in a really long time, I am proud of who I see there.
Christians who affirm LGBT people do not arrive at this place because they don’t read the Bible. It’s not because we are unaware of what Leviticus says in the purity codes. It is because we have recognized the deeper ways in which condemning gay people as morally inferior or “broken” does such severe damage to some one’s personhood that it disfigures any possibility of them seeing God’s divine image in themselves. In short, it bears such destructive fruit and is the opposite of the picture of the peace, love, and welcome that is painted as the ideal of the image of God.
When Christians define LGBT people as “others” that are separate from the church, classify their souls by their sexuality, and then label that sexuality as an abomination, we have, whether intentionally or not, effectively condemned an entire class of people. We act surprised and disappointed when they leave the church, acting as if it was sin that lead them astray. Oh no, friends. They didn’t leave your church because they were “enticed by sin”… they left because they could no longer breathe. And church: we should not act so surprised when 1/3 of LGBT young people in our communities attempt to take their own lives, for it was our very own voices that told them their bodies were not worth protecting.
I write this today proud to say I am a gay Christian. And I have never felt more fully known and loved and welcomed into God’s kingdom JUST as I am. I did not come out of the closet out of rebellion to God, but out of surrender to Him.
This process has brought me to the end of myself as I stayed up late at night wrestling with God. It’s caused me to ask every hard question about my faith, the Bible, and what I believe. It’s connected me with the messy part of people’s lives in stories in the most beautiful of ways. It’s caused me to see Jesus in a new light too… in one that would leave the 99 gathered on a Sunday morning to come to sit with a gay 25-year-old as he cried in his car. I met the Jesus that would come and protect me even among the crowds of well-meaning Christians who yelled over my invisible head about how people like me are a threat to the nation, possessed by demons, and undeserving of legal protection. He told me he wouldn’t go anywhere when I knew so many others in my life would either walk or drift away from me after learning the truth. I’ve met Jesus in every single place I thought he wasn’t supposed to go.
And oh my, how I would never go back to how I thought the world was before — neat little camps of righteous and condemned, lost and saved. The lines so conveniently drawn such that I was always in the right, in the safe, in the truth and those I feared were always in the wrong, the lost, the condemned. How beautiful it is to have this flipped, to find yourself in the camp that most people call condemned and to discover Jesus even more present there, more alive there, more real and ready to love.
In my experience, recognizing and welcoming LGBT people into faith communities has only manifested as such beautiful fruit. It looks like a bigger table, with more faces, more stories, more perspectives, all ready to worship and praise the God that made them, in all their wild diversity and complexity. It allows people who were once beaten down and hurt to thrive and contribute their gifts and stories. It is the closest thing to “doing justice, loving mercy and walking humbly” that I’ve seen. And as a gay Christian, it has given me back the beauty of the faith I had as a child. A faith that is truly good news in my life.
Peace and love.