From Despair Toward Justice
Michelle Ferguson Morrow
April 2016

For most of my life I’ve been taught that my gayness was the sin that separated me from God.  My sexuality epitomized me as a sinner.  In church, when we sang about disobedience or heard sermons about depravity, I had no further to look than my attraction toward women.  This attraction was the thing that God hated; this was the thing that was going to send me to hell.

In college, I took a course in English Renaissance literature and was introduced to Edmund Spenser’s The Fairy Queen.  In the first book, there is a scene where the knight Redcrosse, the hero of the story, enters into a dingy cave and meets a gollum-like figure.*  His name is Despair.  Despair strips Redcrosse bare: as a protective garment is shed, Despair removes Redcrosse’s good works, honor, and confidence, leaving him naked before the truth of his sin.  Despair reminds him of his imperfection.  Each example he spoke exposes Redcrosse until he faced Despair naked and ashamed.  At last, Despair hands the knight a dagger, slowly putting the thought in Redcrosse’s mind that he would be better off taking his own life than to continue to accumulate sin and so face more judgment from God.

This scene has remained with me because it tells the story of a Christian on his journey meeting the reality of his sin and staring despair in the face.  In my own life, I could not hide from my “sin.”  And as I struggled with it, the despair that ensued stripped me of any confidence I might have placed in my Christian life.  No matter how many good deeds I did, no matter how many prayers I prayed, no matter how earnest my worship, the truth I believed was that I was tainted.  Again and again I was reminded of my imperfection by those around me in the church.  Despair’s voice embedded itself into my psyche.  And as in the aforementioned scene, there is only one conclusion that despair offers: death.  And so I struggled with suicidal impulses.

When I first came to Christ as a teenager, because my sexuality was equated with sinfulness, repenting and following Christ became an endeavor to “leave behind homosexuality.”  Any attraction I felt toward women was interpreted as a temptation to overcome, a symptom of deep brokenness.  In college I was introduced to Exodus International, a ministry serving those who wanted to “overcome” their homosexuality.  Hearing stories of “change” gave me hope that I too could finally cast off my burden of same-sex attraction and be made whole (aka. straight).  I spent the summer after my junior year interning in Orlando, FL for Alan Chambers.  And when I graduated, he offered me a job as Publications Manager at Exodus.  I packed up my bags and moved across the country, ready to embrace my new calling into ex-gay ministry.

A year later, the differences I experienced with the Exodus leadership led me to resign.  I was completely confused about what that meant for my journey, as I had begun to picture a future as an ex-gay leader.  If I didn’t have that, then who was I?  What was I going to do with my life?  How in the world was I going to prove myself to God?  It was during the aftermath of my Exodus experience that I fell into a deep depression.  More than anything I was afraid I wouldn’t be pleasing to God if I wasn’t actively involved in repudiating my homosexuality and helping others do the same.  If I wasn’t part of the ex-gay “in” crowd, I needed a new identity, and without one readily discernible, I fell apart.  I entered into Despair’s cave and began to listen to him speak his shaming words.

You are good for nothing.  Your are a failure.  You are worthless.  You are irredeemable.

I couldn’t find my footing or catch my breath.  The questions that crashed into me were like relentless waves.  What am I going to do with my life?  What is my calling?  How does God want to use me?  Does God want to use me?  Does God want anything to do with me?

In Despair’s cave, the knight Redcrosse stands with dagger in hand contemplating his demise.  Just as he is about to thrust the dagger into his belly, Una appears.  She is the reason for Redcrosse’s journey: it is her royal parents that he is supposed to rescue.  In this story, she is a representation of the Church.  She throws the dagger on the ground and confronts Redcrosse saying,

“Fie, fie, faint-hearted knight!  What meanest thou by this reproachful strife?  Is this the battle which thou vaunt’st to fight with that fire-mouthed dragon, horrible and bright?  Come, come away, frail, feeble, fleshly wight, ne let vain words bewitch thy manly heart, ne devilish thoughts dismay thy constant sprite: in heavenly mercies hast thou not a part?  Why shouldest thou then despair, that chosen art?”**

Redcrosse is saved from Despair’s attempt on his life and he remembers the mission before him.  Una leads him to a place where he can recover until he is ready to face his foe, the dragon that threatens her parents.

I love this story of rescue.  It provides a beautiful picture of the Church and its ministry of liberating people from the darkness of despair.  It inspires me to dream of Church as a family of believers who refuse to let go of its hope of salvation and its mission to usher in the Kingdom of God by rescuing others from their dim imaginations of judgment through the powerful prophetic imagination*** that infuses the body of Christ.  When truly embodying Jesus, the Church saves and gives life on the other side of despair.  We are not kept from entering into the cave, but we are brought out with the promise of “heavenly mercies.”

When I became depressed after returning home from Florida, despair handed me a dagger.  Then entered Una.  In my case this was seminary.  I began a theology degree at Fuller Theological Seminary, and it saved my life.  For most of my Christian life, I have felt communion with God through the sacraments, but during seminary I realized how much academic biblical study should be counted among the sacraments for me.  In it I encountered a mystery whereby I was drawn up into Christ and given the grace I needed to continue.  I was reminded of God’s mission for God’s people, and after a year and a half of wrestling with despair, I rejoined the journey.  But I was badly wounded and drained from that fight, and I needed a “house of healing.”  Fuller, and a small community that walked alongside me provided the context for that healing.

I’d like to say that I never entered into despair’s cave again, but depression is something with which I have continued to struggle.  Like Frodo’s wound from the ring wraiths in The Lord of the Rings, my wound remains with me and is painful whenever the darkness comes near.  As I have sought and walked the path of faithfulness as best as I know, my wound reminds me of the fallenness of this world.  It reminds me that the Christian journey is dangerous, and there are forces that work against the mission of God.  Whenever that wound is opened, it threatens to push me into despair’s cave once again.

I wish that the Church was always there to rescue and heal me, but my times of greatest wounding have been at the hands of the Church.  So many people give up on the Church and walk away from faith because they have been deeply hurt.  So many gay people have been turned away from the Church.  I refuse to give up, and I refuse to be excluded.  I still believe in the Church.  Derek Webb sings,

I haven’t come for only you, but for my people to pursue.  You cannot care for me with no regard for her.  If you love me you will love the Church.

I love the Church.  I love what it is called to be.  It is Una’s voice giving life to fresh imagination that renews love for the Church when all seems dark.  I will give my life to the mission of helping others hear that voice and inviting others into a more robust understanding of being Church.

People want me to prove “from the Bible” that it is ok for me to be gay.  Oh the difficulties fraught in that request.  It assumes a nearness between our cultural context and that of the biblical writers that is naive and not useful.  It assumes a proof-texting hermeneutic - as if I could just point to one or several verses that explicitly condone same-sex orientation and/or same-sex marriages.  It also assumes that one or several verses “clearly” condemn same-sex attractions and/or relationships.  How, when so many scholars can debate these same passages over and over, can anyone say that there is a “clear” interpretation?  Is there even a notion that interpretation is inherent in reading these or any passages of scripture?  We all bring something to the text when we read.  Do we see that?  Can we admit that?  Are we self-aware enough to name those things?

One of the things that I bring to the text is my experience of same-sex attraction and my subsequent understanding of my sexual identity.  There is no setting that aside.  Not even heterosexuals can set aside their heterosexuality when they come to the text, and it would be helpful if they would recognize their position of power and privilege in their act of reading and interpreting.    So, if I bring my experience and sexual identity to the text, let’s talk about that.

I experience my attractions as persistent and unchanging despite a dozen years of desiring and pursing change.  (Some will say that I never really tried to change because I did not become more “feminine” or do what I needed to do to attract a man.  The patriarchal and heteronormative power structures present in those kinds of statements appall me.)  So, the reality in which I live is that I am sexually oriented toward the same sex.  I did not create that situation, and I cannot undo that situation.  It is, therefore, core to who I am, and I must decide how to live within and out of that identity.  Thus, any attempt by someone (even myself) to “change” my orientation can be understood as an act of oppression and violence.  There is no separating out my sexuality from the rest of who I am.  Sexuality is that center from which we as gendered beings relate to and within the world around us.  It is how I perceive of myself as a woman, and as a woman, how I relate to other women, to men, to children, to married people, to single people, to friends or strangers.  It is how I connect emotionally to other human beings.  When someone I am in relationship with says, “I love you, but I cannot accept that you are gay,” they do not realize that even our relationship is contextually linked to my gayness.  It seems to me that those people have the idea that people are fundamentally or intrinsically heterosexual but that on top of that capacity for opposite-sex attraction is this nagging same-sex attraction.  If only I could ignore or resist the same-sex attraction, my God-given heterosexuality would be free to function.  Again, my reality is that God did not make me straight.  I do not know if he “made me” gay, but I know that he did not gift me with heterosexuality.  So, if we are in relationship with one another, then you are relating with a gay person, not someone who is a person and happens to have a separate gay compartment that can be set aside.  If you do not “accept” my sexual identity, then you do not truly embrace or understand me.  There is an exclusion happening that makes safe and healthy relationship very difficult.

While I may not be able to “prove from the Bible” that being gay is ok, I am a person of the text, and as such I turn to it for guidance in all aspects of my life.  I really don’t like starting from the normal “clobber passages” because, honestly, at the end of the day, we cannot be sure they condemn same-sex covenanted relationships (they do condemn other forms of homosexuality such as temple prostitution, rape, pedophilia, etc.).  With all of the solid scholarship on both sides of the issue, it seems there is an impasse when it comes to using those passages to argue for or against same-sex covenanted relationships.  It wasn’t until I began looking at the “moral logic” (thank you James Brownson) of the biblical witness that I shifted in my theological understanding of sexuality.  The following are a few thoughts on a few texts I turn to.

1. The Creation Narratives point us to what it means to be human, and core to humanity is partnership and community.  It is not good for humans to be alone.  Not even a relationship with God can replace or make unnecessary the “bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh” relationship.  The core relational connection between humans is the “one flesh” relationship.****
2. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: “But if [the unmarried and the widows] are not practicing self-control, they should marry. For it is better to marry than to be aflame with passion” (NRSV, 1 Cor. 7:9).  In this chapter, Paul is refuting the Corinthians’ idea that “it is well for a man not to touch a woman” (v. 1).  He talks about the need of married people coming together and affirming their relationship by having sex.  He would like to see more people choose the unbound/single life like he has (for the purpose of serving Christ in an undivided manner), but he does not condemn married life.  In fact, he talks about marriage as having the potential to make an unbeliever “holy.”  I don’t think Paul is against or down on marriage.  I hear him especially urging single people to marry if they don’t have the “self-control” to remain single.  It does no good to commit to the single life in order to serve Christ if one is going to be battling sexual/relational desire in a way that pulls energy and focus away from their service.  In this passage I hear an affirmation of the Creation Narratives’ message that sexual union is a good and natural human need, one that must be taken seriously.  I also hear the affirmation of celibacy (not just abstaining from sex, but living an unbound, single life) as a gift from God (1 Cor. 7:7).  Paul goes on to talk about spiritual gifts later in his letter (1 Cor. 12-14).  I do not know what to make of it, but it is interesting to me that celibacy is not listed as a spiritual gift here.  Spiritual gifts, however, are mentioned as manifestations of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7).  Each member is given a gift in order to build up the Body of Christ.  It seems that not everyone is given every gift (1 Cor. 12:27-30).  The Corinthians are urged to “strive for the greater gifts” (the ones that build up the body, not just the individual) (1 Cor. 12:31a).  And then Paul tells them an even more “excellent way” (1 Cor. 12:31b): love.  All spiritual gifts have their limit or will come to an end (1 Cor. 13:8), but love endures.  Love is to characterize every believer, regardless of spiritual gifting.  Love is other-centered and focused on all things good: “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.  It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.  It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (NRSV, 1 Cor. 13: 4-7).  All practicing of spiritual gifts should be within the context of love.
3. The breaking down of barriers in Paul’s thought: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (NRSV, Gal. 3:28).  This verse could be Paul’s thesis statement for the gospel.  Whatever Christ accomplishes through his life, death and resurrection, it entails the removal of barriers that once organized the world and its relationships.  Ethnic, socio-economic, and gender distinctions were strictly observed in the Greco-Roman world of the first century when Paul was writing.  Breaking the customs - described as the natural order - threatened the fabric of society.  And that was the point.  Jesus turns the world upside-down and inside-out.  He ushers in a new world order, the Kingdom of God, where all relationships and organization of humanity are made new.  Consider the following passage:

So then, remember that at one time you Gentiles by birth, called “the uncircumcision” by those who are called “the circumcision”—a physical circumcision made in the flesh by human hands— remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God. (NRSV, Eph. 2:11-22, italics mine)

The peace accomplished in Christ is described as the breaking down of a dividing wall of hostility.  This wall once kept out the Gentiles, and its destruction then invites them into the people of God.  This idea was so earth-shattering, that it caused some conflict in the early church.  Peter had to be convinced through a vision (Acts 10).  The church leaders eventually convened to work through this issue at the Council at Jerusalem (Acts 15).  The decision? Gentiles should be welcomed into the church without the restriction of first becoming Jews: circumcision and food laws (the hallmarks of Jewish identity along with Sabbath keeping) were not required.  This is monumental.  God commanded the Jews to do these things in order to be the people of God, and they were setting it aside in order to welcome in the Gentiles.  Again, the gospel is about the breaking down of barriers, a reordering of human relations.

From the above texts, I get a sense that the gospel bends toward new patterns of human relationship and community.  Let’s call this justice.  God’s intention from the beginning was that humans should flourish together, they should partner with each other in order to create community that draws all people in peace.

How does this relate to the LGBT community?

1. There are a minority of people who experience persistent sexual/romantic/relational attraction to the same sex.  I am one of them.
2. As attested to by the former president of Exodus International: 99.9% of LGBT people he knows still experience same-sex attractions regardless of efforts to diminish or eradicate those attractions.*****  So, a majority of LGBT people do not “change.”
3. Thus, we must deal with the reality that there are LGBT persons in our midst.  And we must deal with their reality of having same-sex attraction and needing to decide how to live (There is NOT a “gay lifestyle.”  There are, like with heterosexuals, many lifestyles that gay people may adopt.  Though gay people are often demonized as promiscuous, unfaithful, and sexually deviant, there are those who reject those aspects of sexuality.  It is not helpful or  fair to compare the couple who have been committed to each other for 30 years with the 25 year old partier who has sex with a different partner every night.)
4. The gospel reorders human relations, offering us peace in the midst of hostility.  Social structures that systematically oppress any group of people are unjust and the Church has a responsibility to speak justice into those situations.  Sometimes the Church is an oppressive and unjust system, and prophetic voices that would speak justice are desperately needed.
5. Justice can be understood as inclusion, a radical welcoming of the stranger, a becoming one.
6. The presence of spiritual gifts give evidence to God at work.  There are many LGBT Christians who have been given such gifts, pointing to the reality that God is with them.
7. The capacity for celibacy is given by God to some.  Nowhere does the Bible suggest that whole groups or categories of people are gifted in this way.  Asking the LGBT community to remain celibate is to deny them a fundamental human need - partnership - regardless of gift or call.  Imposed celibacy is problematic and does not promote health or wholeness.
8. The appropriate response to the need for partnership is marriage.  Gay and straight alike should reserve sex for covenanted relationship.  The Church should affirm and bless the marriage covenants of same-sex couples.

In November 2015, I married my best friend and partner, Kim.  We stood on a patio overlooking Lake Tahoe surrounded by friends and family.  We vowed to live a life of embrace that teaches us the love of God and empowers us to serve his people.  Being in relationship with Kim has indeed allowed me to experience God’s love deeper than I ever have before.  Our partnership is one that seeks to make each of us able to follow Christ more faithfully than if we were apart.  I am not sure what our journey of church will look like in the future****** - where we will be accepted and welcomed home - but I am eager to see what God has in store and how he might use us to contribute to the dialogue happening surrounding this issue.

Notes

* Gollum is a sub-human creature from the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien.

** Edmund Spencer, The Fairy Queen, Book 1, Canto 9, Paragraph 52-53.

*** Read Walter Brueggemann's The Prophetic Imagination.

**** James Brownson, Bible, Gender, Sexuality: Reframing the Church's Debate on Same-Sex Relationships.

***** Paraphrasing Alan Chambers at the 2012 Gay Christian Network conference.

****** Currently we are living near Nashville, TN attending a predominately LGBT congregation, Holy Trinity Community Church.  It has been a healing experience to worship among so many LGBT brothers and sisters.  Soon we plan to move to Fresno, CA where I have roots in the Mennonite Brethren church.