Relishing the similarities between LGBT, Christian communities

It’s no mystery to Christians that Jesus was on the margins of society. He was not only a member of the class of riff-raff; he relished it. It’s hardly any mystery to us—even those who are professed atheists—that the Jesus of Christianity was indeed an outsider, whose friends and allies were outsiders.

Not so far from the reality we face as members of the LGBT community, is it?

I imagine some of you will muster up an immediate argument, rabid with disgust: “Christianity has insulted us! We’ve been brutalized, murdered, ostracized, cast out, and laughed at by men and women in the name of Christ. Why should we pay any attention to Christianity?”

Indeed, why should you? As an active member of both the gay and Christian communities in Denver, let me respond, civilly, with a candidness yet unheard.

First—I agree with you. Although, facts show the issue isn’t a matter of agreement and disagreement; men and women have together bashed the gay community in the name of the Christian faith for centuries—and continue to do so. There is no excuse for this, and there is no way it can or should be justified.

But I would ask you to think about the accusations that you make. What stops as judgment against Christianity should, more specifically, be a criticism of individuals. You see, Christianity is not to blame for assault against the LGBT community; people are. And though the faith should always be the foundation of the Christian church, it is not. The church is merely a human institution, and flawed at that.

But the teachings of Christ, so far as I have known them, are sound. Though marginalized, though cast out and ridiculed, Jesus asked only one thing of his followers: love one another.

Period.

You know, outrageous as the proposition might be to some, there are stark similarities between the Christian and gay communities of the world. Both have endured marginalization in their time. Both have suffered. Both have believed in what and who they are by nature. Both have sought an identity for themselves in the face of fierce opposition. Both have lashed out, often against each other.

And both, even in bitterness, have wanted only to belong.

Let’s face it: the stereotypes propagated by both sides are often fallacious, sometimes even ridiculous. Deeper understanding removes any justification for that outlash, but it demands that we place ourselves in an uncomfortable environment. As a gay, queer, questioning, or transgendered man or woman, we are called to face what seems like our greatest enemy: the Christian church. But if we take a step inside its living community, we will see the faces of Christians themselves, both good and bad. We will come to know them as human beings—not so different from ourselves.

We know all too well how good it feels to belong, and whomever we call our family, we are all compelled by a simple, active virtue: love. Does it matter if we call it a Christian virtue?

I confess that as a gay Christian, sometimes ostracized by the church and sometimes by the LGBT community, I once found few places to turn for comfort and support. My options seemed limited and my social circles constricted. Until, instead of swallowing the contrived differences between these two communities, I began to relish the similarities between them.

It is an uncanny truth that the greatest bond between us gives more reason for community than contention: When given the chance, we love one another.