Controversial Thoughts

I'm sitting here feeling weepy and tired, and I should just go to bed. I shouldn't have gotten on the computer to begin with, since the muffins finished baking quite awhile ago and I have a sweet, snoozing husband from whom it will take at least 5 minutes to wrestle away my half of the covers.

But I checked email (I think I had vague intentions of getting work done), which then lead to checking MySpace messages, which lead to reading up on old friends, some of whom I haven't seen in years. I'm teary-eyed because I just finished reading one blog entry about getting dumped. It was beautiful, sad, articulate and vulnerable. And it was written by a gay man, which makes me wince. I'm not comfortable with homosexuality. So my tears are both for him and for me.

When did I stop remembering that our LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgendered) friends have feelings? I think I've been laboring under a false assumption that stems both from my prejudices as well as the flamboyant gay culture. So much of the airs & attitudes of a stereotypical gay man are so far from real feelings. They're exaggerated, over-the-top; a well rehearsed musical production.

But to be so poignantly reminded that it hurts to lose someone you love, even though (I won't pull punches here) I don't think it's a healthly sort of love...

I feel disgusted with myself to realize that in holding fast to my religious beliefs about one thing, I've in so many ways missed the larger picture. I won't condone or accept homosexuality as a healthy lifestyle, and I don't think God does, either. If that makes me intolerant, then so be it. But, somewhere along the way between when I first discovered the saving love of Christ and where I am now, I've let being intolerant translate into being unloving. Some would argue that they are one in the same, but I'm not getting swept up into that discussion just yet. I can't lose this thought, because it's too important:

Love and intolerance can co-exist.

It looks ridiculous, and it sounds even worse. But I truly believe that love is a choice, an action, a decision. For some circumstances and with some people, that choice comes more easily. With my husband and my family, I can't help but feel love for them. But how often do I choose to actively love them, with Christ's love? It's tough to overcome my selfish nature and think of them first. And if it's hard to actively love them, it's damn near impossible to love those that irk me, that don't share my beliefs, convictions and values, that find me intolerant, that make me uncomfortable.

But even if it's true that love is a choice we make to verify the emotion we feel, where on earth would intolerance come in? Shouldn't we love people the way they are? Who are we to say what is best for them?

Well, now we've come down to it, haven't we. Judging. Being judgemental. Who am I to say that homosexual love isn't healthy? It's a shocking, hate-filled statement, especially in this day and age. But where do we draw the line? The Bible, this crazy, radical, controversial book that I cling to, has verses that I interpret to say that lots of actions aren't pleasing to God. Homosexuality is one of them. But so is not loving your neighbor, and in fact, when Jesus was asked to distill the commandments down, loving God (with all your heart, soul, mind and strength) and loving your neighbor as yourself made the cut. When Jesus answered, he never mentioned sexual orientation, political beliefs, views on communion and baptism, or eating habits (just to name a few of the many controversies that tear people apart).

Those two things, loving God and loving others, are the guiding principles by which I must apply everything else that Jesus said. And while I've tried to love and honor God by striving to uphold holy standards, I've forgotten to love my neighbor. All the way from the next-door neighbors here in Atlanta, to people that I once knew, now on the other side of the country. Somehow, it's fairly easy to find a "neighbor" in India that I can love, financially support and pray for. But I've missed people in the middle. NIMBY (not in my backyard) takes on a whole new and ugly meaning.

So where does that leave me? How can I be both loving and intolerant? The phrase "love the sinner but hate the sin" pops into my mind, but it seems indifferent and cruel, as though our sins aren't a part of us. We are born into this fallen world, and we live with the scars of our choices. It's an especially vile phrase when I stop to think that LGBT folks see their sexual orientation as their identity, not as a problem. And again, who am I to say differently?

If anyone is still with me at this point, and hasn't already hit the comment button to either: 1) blast me for my hate-speech, or 2) criticize me for my lack of Biblical knowledge, then I beg you to stick with me for just a few sentences longer (after which, you are of course welcome to have at it. I won't even turn on the comment moderation).

What I would like to say is this---I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the times I've judged you (even if I don't really know you, and perhaps all the more because I don't) and others for lifestyle, behavior, choices, decisions, etc. But beyond my prejudice is a love for people that wants them to know the peace of Jesus I've found. Yes, it sounds preachy and churchy even in my ears. Sorry. But I can't think of any other way to put it. The point is not whether you're gay or straight, Republican or Democrat, Catholic or Protestant, a vegetarian or a carnivore. (har har.)

The point is, I believe in the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, who came to earth fully human & fully divine, who lived a holy life, was crucified, died and was raised to life by God the Father. I love Him. I cling to Him and His words and promises. And what He taught, that I so often forget, is that it's not my job to judge or condemn. We've all got problems with anger, with hate, with loneliness & despair, with that haunting feeling in the middle of the night that we can't do this thing called life on our own.

It is my job to proclaim (with boldness---ack!) that God is here, He's active and present, and He wants us to know Him. I believe what the Bible says because I can't help it. The Bible often makes me uncomfortable. I don't like some of what I read. I don't get this God who seems loving one minute and cruel the next. But I trust that He's real... and believing in a God that challenges me and makes life challenging is so much better than the alternative. God isn't "easy" to love, but the alternative is to love a big, fat Nothing.

At an AIDS awareness/benefit concert we went to in Chattanooga I was privileged to hear the story of one couple who cared for their gay son for 15 months while he grew weaker and weaker. They're Southern Baptists. Wow. I don't know what they said to him. I don't know what conversations they might have had with him. But I do know that they loved him. They chose to come down to Atlanta from Chattanooga and care for their dying son. They chose to be involved in his life, to get to know his gay friends. They chose to not get so caught up in saying "Thou shalt not" and chose instead to focus on saying, "We love you."

Why do I cry for an old friend whose boyfriend dumped him? Because he's hurting. Because I want more for him. Because I haven't been there for him, and wouldn't know what to do if I tried. I don't want to argue about right and wrong. I want to love my friend, in word, thought & deed. Perhaps if we as Christians spent more time talking about Jesus, and less about people and their problems, our love would be less often just an emotion.

To wrap this up, I'll use a concept (i.e. cop-out) from one of my favorite artists regarding where I get my ideas from:

"...because i can't afford to pay/ for most of what i say/ so it's a lucky thing/ that the truth's public domain... and i am like a mockingbird/ i've got no new song to sing/ and I am like an amplifier/ i just tell you what i've heard/ oh, i'm like a mockingbird..."

copyright 2005 Derek Webb... and no, I don't know what his thoughts on homosexuality are, but I do know that he loves people actively, so that's good enough for me!

I hope I haven't hurt anyone with my controversial thoughts. I hope you can accept my apology. And I hope and pray that God will grant me the grace to learn more each day about how best to love Him and others. Amen.