Ever since last Sunday, when many churches around Australia
read out letters about same sex marriage to their congregations, there's been
one question that keeps running through my mind: How many gay people left
church after hearing that letter? How many gay people gave up on God?
And maybe I'm being overdramatic. Maybe no gays left the
church or gave up on God. But if they didn't, I'm sure that at least some gay
people attending church last Sunday felt a little uncomfortable.
And feeling uncomfortable is not always a bad thing.
Christianity ought to take us out of our comfort zone sometimes. But there's a
difference between feeling uncomfortable because you're out of your comfort
zone and feeling uncomfortable because you feel like you don't belong.
I don't know what it's like to be gay. But I do know what
it's like to feel uncomfortable in church. I have been severely depressed. I've
listened to countless sermons telling me that Christians should be happy. And
every single time I heard that, I thought, well why aren't I happy? What's
wrong with me? I'm also divorced. And I
went through my divorce while I was attending a Pentecostal church. With all
due credit to those people in my church at the time, they never made me feel
judged. They offered love and compassion, without saying that what I was doing
was okay. Strangely enough, in the end, I felt more uncomfortable about my
depression than I did about my divorce.
In the end, my divorce helped me get over my depression. But
before that happened, there were so many times when I felt like leaving church
and giving up on God because there seemed to be something wrong with me.
Christianity didn't work out for me the way it seemed to work out for other
people. And if I was depressed, and if I was getting divorced, maybe that showed
that God had given up on me. That's what
it felt like anyway. Why else would I continue to struggle with things that
didn't fit with the Christian ideal? If Christians were meant to be happy, and
meant to stay married, then maybe I just wasn't meant to be a Christian.
And feeling like this only made me feel more depressed -
which ended up making me feel even guiltier about how badly I conformed to the
Christian standard.
Now none of this may seem like it has anything to do with
same sex marriage. But I think it does. Because I heard lots of things against
divorce in those days. I heard lots of things against being unhappy. And every
time it hurt. And every time, I felt like a failure. And every time I felt like
a failure, I felt like giving up on God.
I would like to say that it's thanks to my perseverance that
I'm still a Christian today. In all honesty, it probably has more to do with
the fact that this was a temporary stage in my life. Once it passed, I didn't
feel so uncomfortable anymore. I started to think that maybe God hadn't given
up on me.
But if they had been permanent stages, if I had lived in a
time when divorce just wasn't on at all, if I had lived in a time when
depression was seen as someone's fault rather than an illness, I doubt I'd
still be in the church today. It's really hard to constantly feel like you
don't measure up. It's also hard to constantly feel like the church disapproves
of what you are doing.
Now this doesn't mean that we all say, well, fine, everybody
should live as they want to live and the church should say nothing about
anything in case we hurt people's feelings. Love the person but hate the sin
may be one of the worst phrases in a Christian's vocabulary, but it does kind
of make sense. But how many people actually get to move beyond that hatred for
the sin to discover the love for the person. I know I was pleasantly surprised
when I saw the love people showed for me when I went through my divorce. But I knew
it was coming for a long time before I talked about. All I could see was hatred
for the sin and I imagined talking about it would only get me condemnation.
And like I said, that was a temporary stage in my life.
Imagine how I would feel if the "sin" was treated as one of the worst
possible sins by Christians. And imagine if that "sin" didn't feel
like a sin at all, but something I could not change. There have been many
people who have undergone prayer and counselling to "rid" themselves
of the "sin" of homosexuality. And yet it does not work. These people
do not choose to be homosexual. For those who have been raised in the belief
that homosexual is an 'abomination', I think some of them would gladly give
their right arm not to feel same sex attraction. Some people even choose to
take their own life because they can't bear the pain of being gay.
I can't imagine what it's like. I know what it's like to
have something temporary in your life that you feel God doesn't approve of and
yet you seem powerless to change. I can only imagine the pain of having
something permanent, which isn't even treated as just another 'sin' by the
church, but often as the worst possible sin. I've never heard the word
'abomination' used by the church in relation to any other sins. And yet there
are plenty of them. Why don't we share the same disgust for pride and lying as
we do for homosexuality? Why don't we have a sermon on Proverbs 6:16-19 and talk about the
abominations listed there?
There are six things
which the Lord hates,
Yes, seven which are
an abomination [i]to Him:
Haughty eyes, a lying
tongue,
And hands that shed
innocent blood,
A heart that
devises wicked plans,
Feet that run rapidly
to evil,
A false
witness who utters lies,
And one who] spreads
strife among brothers. (Proverbs 6:16-19).
Of course one doesn't necessarily need to even consider
homosexuality a sin to be against homosexual marriage. Homosexual practices are
not the same as the definition of marriage. And while I have no problem with same
sex marriage myself, I can understand why some Christians would be against it.
However, what I find difficult to understand, and the reason
I felt like crying - yes actually crying - last Sunday is why Christians need
to launch this attack on same sex marriage. I keep fairly up-to-date with
Christian news. I can't remember any issue ever where the churches have been
united in the same way they have on this one. There are so many important
issues that Christians could be united against. Instead, the one issue we do
unite on is the one issue that has the power to really hurt a lot of people.
What message is that sending to gay people? Yes, we love
you. But we think preventing you from marrying each other is more important
than any of the other things Jesus told us to do. Actually, I probably should
make that any of the things Jesus told us to do, because he actually didn't say
anything about same sex marriage or homosexuality at all.
I just wish people would at least try to see this from the
perspective of someone who is gay. How hard would it be to hear a letter read
out in church (and know it is being read out at many other churches) that
speaks out against something you may desperately want, that (even if it's not
explicitly stated) may make you feel that the church doesn't like something
about you?
Imagine if you loved someone of the same sex. And imagine
that you wanted to express that love through a life-long commitment of
marriage. And then imagine that many churches all around Australia spoke
out against same sex marriage on the same day.
Don't you think that would kind of hurt?
I don't know what it's like to be gay. But I know what it's
like to feel like you don't belong. I know what it's like to feel like you're
not acceptable to God. I know what it's like to want something desperately that
many Christians disapprove of. I also happen to know what it's like to be
attracted to someone when you probably shouldn't be. And I know what it's like
to really want to change all those things and not be able to.
It hurts. And in my mind, anybody who's hurting deserves not
just lip service about love and compassion, but real love and compassion - and
understanding. Even if we don't agree with same sex marriage, shouldn't we at
least try to see it through the eyes of those who want it? Shouldn't we at
least try to understand their pain?