A reply: why we affirm our LGBTQ+ Siblings

As promised, here is a reply that, hopefully, sheds some light on why it is we believe what we believe. I am a church staff member, a youth minister, and a Christian education director with a lot of experience. I have a thorough knowledge of scripture, theology, church history, and the like. However, I am not ordained myself, so forgive me any errors that a more learned priest might not have made.

To begin, I think it must be said that in the Episcopal Church, we do not take a literal view of the Bible. We regard scripture as Divinely inspired, and, in the words of our Book of Common Prayer (the organizing and central guide for our polity and liturgy), regard the Bible as “fully sufficient for salvation”. However, we understand passages like Genesis, and many stories of the Hebrew Bible, to be allegorical, metaphorical, or examples of “wisdom literature”, in form similar to a parable – that there is a surface reading that yields a series of events, but that there are much deeper levels of reading that move into moral, theological and, indeed, mystical territory. And so, a story like the Manna in the Desert, or the deliverance from Egypt, is deeply meaningful to us, but not because we believe those events literally took place, but because those archetypal stories guide us toward deeper spiritual truths – the foolishness of attachment, and the need for trusting in the Divine presence.  

This has several implications, but chief among them is that we believe, deeply, that one simply cannot read scripture as a “how to” guide. This is part of what led us to adopt what theologian Richard Hooker called the “3-legged stool” of Anglicanism: scripture, reason and tradition. We understand that scripture is our bedrock, but that our own reason must be brought into conversation with scripture in order that we can maturely understand it, and maturely apply it. And frankly, there have been times in history when the whole church has been called to maturely leave behind parts of scripture. Though it’s a commonly used rhetorical device, it is a perfect illustration: slavery is overwhelmingly supported in the Bible. Folks will point out that some of the rules in the Hebrew Bible for slavery were less harsh related to other nearby countries at the time, but even this is only partially. The code of Hammurabi only required debt slaves to remain 3 years, the code of Moses called for 7. And while Israel was called to provide more humane conditions for Israelite slaves, the same was not true of foreign slaves, who were absolutely treated as property by the Biblical codes, to the point where they could be given as inheritance. And neither Jesus, nor the authors of the Epistles in the New Testament, ever directly overturned the practice.

Indeed, during the slavery debates in this country, it was the pro-slavery side that consistently cited Biblical passages as their justification. The abolitionists did, too. But, like those of us pushing back against anti-LGBTQ stances today, they had to rely on presenting a “broad overview” argument, pointing to Jesus’ consistent love for outsiders, his consistent disdain for the kind of religious legalism favored by the Pharisees to deny people entry to the banquet table, and his statements like, “I have come to set the captives free” (a quote that certainly can be understood to suggest an end to slavery, but was by no means a direct call to abolish the practice of slavery). If we are honest with ourselves, it was the pro-slavery side that had the larger number of “Biblical citations” supporting their argument.

So let us bring this back to the question of homosexuality. Of the famous “clobber passages” (Genesis 19:1, Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13, Romans 1:25, Jude 6, 1 Corinthians 6:9, might be missing a few here), several of them are simply NOT about homosexuality. Sodom and Gomorrah stands out here. There is simply no serious Biblical author who understands this as being about homosexuality. It IS about sexual violence as an extreme expression of inhospitality, but not homosexuality. People will point to Jude 6 as further proof, since it says, “like Sodom and Gomorrah and the cities around them, which with the same customs, acted in a sexually immoral way and went away after other flesh….”. But immediately before this, Jude references Genesis 6:1, when humans engaged in sexual relations with angels. And of course, Sodom and Gomorrah was the attempted sexual assault not just of men, but of angels.

However… there ARE passages that, though many have tried to re-imagine them as otherwise, simply ARE condemning of same sex intercourse. Paul’s letters, for instance. And so, how do we arrive at the conclusion that we are not bound to follow these teachings today? Well, a few reasons. The first is that there really was no concept of homosexuality in that time like there is now. They simply didn’t conceive of loving, monogamous, same-sex relationships. That wasn’t what they encountered. They encountered sexual slavery, particularly of the Romans toward younger boys. They encountered cultic worship practices. But not the kind of loving relationships we see today. Now, do I think Paul would approve if he DID hear of modern same-sex relationships? Probably still no. But he ALSO told slaves to treat their slave masters as if they were Christ. Paul was not perfect.

The second, and I think more powerful argument, is this: we listened to our LGBTQ siblings. We listened when they told us that this is who God made them to be, and no amount of conversion therapy, shame, or “praying it away” is going to change that. And that brings me back, finally and most importantly, to Jesus. I have walked with him for the better part of 20 years. I love the Gospels more than anything in this life. And there is one overriding attribute I see in Jesus. He listens. He is curious. His love comes springing forth from his genuine curiosity to know the people he encounters and to truly SEE them. He wants to know our experiences. And, when “religious rules” come in conflict with the obvious light of love, it is love that wins. That is the ultimate message of the parable of the Good Samaritan. The audience Jesus is delivering this parable to HATED the Samaritans. In fact, aside from the Roman empire, the Samaritans might have been at the top of the “enemies” list. And so Jesus tells this story, in which two people avoid the hurt man in order to observe religious purity laws. And then the Samaritan, who believes wrong, and worships wrong, comes along and exemplifies the Love Christ is trying to share with us. Jesus was never afraid to push back against religious rules when he saw those rules running counter to the Love at the heart of the Kingdom of Heaven.

This, at least for my own heart, is the final authority here. I know so many LGBTQ people (and am not a member myself, though clearly I am an ally), and have spent time with so many LGBTQ couples. And when I apply the test of the Good Samaritan to this question, holding on one side the customs and sexual mores of an ancient tribal civilization and some words of disagreement from Paul and a few others, and on the other side the “new commandment, that we love one another” given by Jesus in John’s Gospel and emphatically reiterated in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, for me there is no debate. The love that I see, hear and feel from my LGBTQ siblings is God-given.

Yours in Christ,

Scott Coulter, St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church