Behold, how they love one another

Justin Lee, founder and head of the Gay Christian Network (GCN) has just published a new book, TORN which addresses the unsuccessful (to date) conversation between the Church and GLBTQ people and the effect of that conversation on the gospel's impact in the world. I haven't read Justin's book yet, but I have heard him speak and have witnessed his courage and diplomacy in tackling the divide between the Church and GLBTQ people in other venues.

As part of the book's release, he has asked bloggers from whatever side of any fence (including those straddling said fence) to dedicate a post to the effort to bring the conversation to some level of sanity. His appeal and links to other bloggers' contributions are found here. This is my contribution.

It would be tempting here to rehearse demands for recognition and tolerance. But a demand is not a dialog. And demands would assume the ability of one party to represent a whole. Any true dialog must begin at a place where we can find common ground.

GLBTQ people in general and Christians in general already share a lot of common ground. First, and this should be obvious, we share a common humanity. We share a range of characteristics and experiences to which neither group can claim any more right of ownership than the other. Second, we claim a common environment - the world in which we live and its resources. Sharing the same world, we are neighbors in it. Third, we share the fact of the communities in which we live, even though we may live in multiple, different, overlapping and sometimes conflicting communities. Despite that, we share the fact of communal inclination. Being communal is a part of being human. But living in a communities is a different dimension than either specific humanity or non-personal environment. Both GLBTQ people and Christians live their lives in the context of communities.

Those basic areas will suffice for now to describe what Christians in general and GLBTQ people hold in common. I don't think that should engender any argument.

Christians who are GLBTQ have even more in common with other Christians than GLBTQ people in general do.

With respect to the previous list, GLBTQ Christians and other Christians share the notion that our humanity is in the image of God and that our person, our "self", is a gift from God. 'Gift' is a strange word. We use it often to mean a special favor, like a birthday gift: something obtained and gifted with our uniqueness in mind. We also think of a "gift" as a grace broadcast over all peoples. It is both and neither. What is significant is that GLBTQ Christians share, with other Christians, the idea that what makes for the human in general and the "I" in particular has been designed by God for reasons that are both loving and unknown. That view inspires a wonder and a worship of our Maker and Lover for the gift of our Selves.

Behind the "God made me the way I am" rhetoric is a real truth that it does us no good and brings God no glory to consider ourselves defective. Even original sin, while crippling, is not the result of a defect. It is the result of a free will, which is no defect. GLBTQ and other Christians can share that conviction. Our dialog can begin in the agreement that what God made is good, and that "it is he who has made us and not we ourselves", as the Hundredth Psalm puts it. That, at least, should be a starting point.

Christians who are GLBTQ and other Christians also share a view of their environment and resources that they, too, are ordered by God, magnifying that wonder and worship for a God who makes himself known in this world. It is not just a religious motivation that is important here - that is merely an aspect of humanity. What is important is the personal and universal witness of God's attention to and provision for our needs in giving us the gift of Life. Even for the sparrows.

And orphans.

And outcasts.

And strangers.

And who is my neighbor, anyway?

While GLBTQ people are not sparrows or orphans or otherwise incapacitated, they are strangers to the Church, at least for now. GLBTQ Christians are often strangers in their own churches. I don't think it would be hard to find agreement among any group of Christians that strangers should be made welcome and that the alien should find hospitality among God's people. Our dialog can continue in recognizing that celebrating God as the giver of Life means a respect for all life in this world and sharing our piece of the world and our resources with all. What has God provided us that we are prone to withhold from others?

Finally, GLBTQ Christians also share with other Christians in the communion of the Church. As the Nicene Creed asserts, there is one holy, catholic and apostolic church. It includes all who dare hope in Christ. Period. That statement does not draw out any controversy until we take it upon ourselves to attempt to identify who  "all" might mean. That is to say, until we take on a job we have not been asked or possess qualifications to perform.

Our communion is in the Body and Blood of Christ, not just in the physical act of "take and eat", but in the existential reality of being members of one Body and being the benefactors of a transcendent blood-sacrifice. There are mysteries which can neither be argued or explained. The dialog we pursue must validate "one holy, catholic and apostolic church. It must be a witness to "one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all". A dialog that begins in what we hold in common must lead to a unity and a love which bears witness to the world of our Lord. That is what is at stake.

The sanity, to return to Justin's plea, can only come when we celebrate our differences in unity. We the Church have learned to do this in other areas. It was hard. It took time. But few would return to the days of forced conversions, inquisitions, witch-scares, scarlet letters, segregation or the dismissal of women. Let it be said of the church, without condition, without discrimination, and by all who desire to come, "behold, how they love one another."

Made Able to Stand

I have read Romans 14 many times. Its admonition not to cause any brother to stumble was a cornerstone in the communal church in which I was raised. But cornerstones themselves are made for stumbling, as it implies elsewhere. In my growing-up church, this passage was an oft-repeated warning against doing anything to give offense. It upheld the status quo on any matter, because any deviation from the status quo would surely offend some weaker brother.

But as this passage was read in the Epistle lesson at my current church recently, I noticed the fourth verse of the chapter which must have been added after I was long gone from my old church: "Who are you to judge the servant of another? To his own master he stands or falls; and he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand."

The Lord is able to make him stand.

Far from its use to monger fear among the saints and to maintain conformity in all things, and beyond the instruction to mind one's own business when it comes to judging each others' spiritual lives is the assurance that, as regards that weaker brother, the Lord is able to make him stand.

Who is the weaker brother? In the church in which I grew up, the weaker brother was one who, given a liberty, would surely take it. But in Romans, the weaker brother is one who, given a liberty (eating meat) would surely be afraid to take it. I was raised believing the weaker brother would fall in to sin by not observing boundaries and conforming to rules. We all had to follow the rules so as not to cause him to stumble. No one ever suggested the weaker brother was the one who wouldn't let go of the rules.

Paul says the weaker brother falls into legalism by not being able to see past the rules: by setting boundaries for himself in fear. (That fear is a litter-mate of the fear that hounded the servant in Jesus' parable: the servant who buried the treasure the Master had given into his stewardship.) We are not constrained to the boundaries a brother sets for himself out of his timidity. Love certainly leads us not to flaunt our liberties in his face. Respect for our common master leads us to respect the weaker brother and not to judge him. But we do not need to bow to his anxiety. The Lord is able to make him stand. In time, he will stand and cross his own boundaries to discover now-unimaginable freedoms.

In the mean time, we have our own fears to face. We have our own fear-born boundaries to cross. And we have the same hope that He will make us stand, too, and lead us into freedoms we can not now ourselves imagine.

Heirs, not Stewards

When I was presented with the opportunity to share in a stewardship temple talk at my church recently, I was drawn to the theme of this one: “Owner, not Renters”. Recent events in my life have caused a change in my circumstances and in my relationship to property such that I am no longer a Property Owner, but a Renter once again and adjusting to that old relationship.

But as I waded into the given passage from the first part of Ephesians and considered what it had to say to me about stewardship, other notions came to mind.

A steward is the chief servant of an estate. As such, he is neither Renter nor Owner.  He represents an owner, who has vested authority in him to manage or govern in his name.  A good steward works in the best interests of his master. 

And this is where stewardship intersects with Paul’s preface in his letter to the Ephesians.  Paul tells us in this passage what God has done for us.  According to Paul, He has chosen us, He has predestined us to adoption as sons and daughters, He has bestowed grace on us through Jesus who has secured our forgiveness and redemption.  God has revealed His intimate purposes to us, has declared us heirs and has confirmed us as His own possessions by His Holy Spirit.

God, then, has elevated us not from Renters to Property Owners, but rather from stewards to heirs.  We are no longer mere caretakers of an asset that will pass through a lineage of which we have no part.  He has brought us into the family and has made us a part of the line itself. We have been graduated from servants to family.

It is from that position as joint heirs of the kingdom of God that we invest our resources, our time, our capabilities – our very Selves in its prosperity to the praise and the glory of God. That’s what Paul says.

So how do I feel about being a renter again? I would have to say I feel relieved of some responsibilities that I did not particularly enjoy. But I also feel a certain loss of status in a society that grants homeowners a bit more respect, credibility and financial advantage.

Then I remember who I am. I am a beloved, adopted child of God. Paul reminds me that when I exercise my stewardship in God’s kingdom, I am taking good care of the heritage God has given me, as well as the inheritance He will one day confer.