Queering Religion, Queering Self

My experiences of living in tension with a norm of heterosexuality have significantly shaped my worldview so that my queer sexuality is at the core of everything I think and believe. As a very reflexive person who gets off on theoretical musings, I could write volumes and will certainly contribute more to this beautifully-conceived blog. I want to begin, though, by posting an email I recently sent to a friend in response to some of her concerns about homosexuality in relation to her particular Christian beliefs. I am deeply interested in religious studies, so I could talk forever about sexuality and religion. However, at the end of the day, I believe it is the truth of human experience that deserves our full attention and respect. And so I will enter into this blog world by sharing some of my experiences as I related them to my friend in a recent email...

I first realized an attraction for other boys very naturally. What I mean is that it did not seem strange or somehow inappropriate. It was not until puberty, when those childlike emotions developed into concrete sexual desires, that I realized that I was different and deviant in an unacceptable way. In fourth grade, an outside mission group came to my church, and I asked Jesus into my heart. From that time forward, I was committed to living a life worthy of Christ. When I realized that my body longed for things I believed to be contrary to God's expectations for my life, I felt impure and prayed fervently for change. All throughout high school, I would pray for hours on end that God would help cleanse me of sexual thoughts that I believed to be sinful. I read the Bible often, hoping that I would find something that would click and lead to lasting change. Eventually I was led to a charismatic Bible study where they talked about life in the Spirit. Immediately I was drawn to the idea that the Holy Spirit could dwell inside me and override my human thoughts and failings. There were certainly weeks where I felt like I had successfully remained strong in the Lord, but the same desires would resurface. I felt hopeless, and yet I still thought that if I prayed long enough and believed hard enough that God would ultimately transform my weak self. At one point I was bothered to the extent that I confided in a friend, but when she asked about it later, I said that I had finally worked through it and that it was no longer an issue. I was too embarrassed to admit that I had somehow failed in the Lord.

As I look back on that time, I remember a single moment more vividly than any other. One morning I woke up and could not fall back asleep. I prayed to God, using as many words as possible, hoping that I could say something right that would spark a new way of being. Out of nowhere came the thought, "What if God does not care if you are attracted to men?" I cannot say now if God was speaking to me in that moment, but it was a question posed with such seriousness that for an instant, I believed it could be legitimate. It scared me to death. In the second that I entertained such a radical notion, I immediately reacted with the thought, "But what if I accept my attraction to men as natural and God really does have a problem with it?" I trusted that I would be safer believing my desires to be impure, and so I passed off that notion as ridiculous.

It was not until many years later that I experienced the question, "What if God does not care if you are attracted to men?" as a moment of grace. I had done everything I could think of, and I had done it for years. I had furrowed my brow in prayer hard enough that my head would hurt. I had worked myself into an emotional frenzy often enough that I believed I could hold onto the feeling if I would just work hard enough. And then I realized that believing in God is believing in the humanity that God has created. Reading the Bible is participating in a conversation about what it means to live in relation to God and other human beings, a dialogue that has been taking place throughout history. Being religious is bringing our experiences of God and of the world to the table and discussing what we know to be true about life. Living in community is engaging in the fullness of one another's humanity and creatively dealing with tensions so that we might value and cherish each other.

As you know, I have committed my life to studying the Bible. I could discuss with you how I think about the Bible and homosexuality for all time if you would like and would certainly welcome the opportunity to engage further. However, for this moment, I just wanted to share with you something deeply personal and spiritual from my experience.

Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people experience a hurt that goes beyond interpretation of the Bible. As people discuss the technical aspects of scripture, those who do not readily fit the dominant expectations must deal with a confusing and painful reality. People who struggle every day to put God first feel as if they are failing because a part of their humanity does not match what some say is the proper way to live. I have a really hard time imagining that God ignores those desperate prayers. I cannot put my faith in a God who would allow a gay teenager to ask every day for guidance only to be left feeling utterly helpless to the point of taking her own life. It happens, and it happens to people who earnestly work to commit their lives to God.

What if God does not care if they are attracted to people of the same sex?

Tyler's link of interest: www.thetaskforce.org (Link "Other Links" on right column)