Normally I don't hang with religious people...

I'm an exception to a lot of rules. Either it's because I'm persistently defiant, relentlessly stubborn, or idealistically empathetic or maybe some other reason or maybe a whole bunch of reasons, but whatever the reason or combination of reasons, people tend to have a hard time categorizing me, or they quickly categorize me wrongly to suit their defense mechanisms because I'm some sort of threat in some way. Regardless, I don't seem to fit in in a lot of ways wherever fitting may be necessary or at least encouraged...

Religion is no exception.

A few people have told me recently that generally they don't enter into the company of my "kind", and also generally, their "kind" is "liberal".

"Equal rights for everybody! End ignorance! Down with the religious!"

You know what I mean?

I answered the guy who told me that normally, he doesn't "hang with religious people" that that was ok because I wasn't religious anyway. He didn't buy it.

Anyway, back to the gay issue. I've been meaning to blog about it again for a couple of weeks at least, but things got in the way (I'll blog about those later.. I really should be more disciplined in this blog, or less... I'd probably blog more if I was less disciplined.. But I digress.).

A few weeks ago, I had a soul-changing conversation with a theology pastor of one of my favorite churches about homosexuality. So the Bible says it's a sin. But a lot of things are a sin. This post is not about that. It's about my perception of my gay peeps being skewed by my "liberalism".

One of the arguments on the gay side as to why being gay is a natural, God-given, innate part of a character is, "Why would anybody choose a life that is more difficult? Why would they deliberately inflict this hardship on themselves?" And I used to wholeheartedly agree.

And then I became a Christian.

Do you know how hard it is to be a Christian in not only an atheist/agnostic society, but a staunchly anti-religious society? It's effing hard. I get belittled, made fun of, and my opinions, even if they were formed long before Jesus came to haunt me, are of no merit because I'm a Christian. But that's all ok. I mean, it's hard, but that's ok. But the hate I have a hard time with. The hate that I am exposed to makes this new lifelong endeavor nearly unbearable sometimes.

It's one thing to get hated on by strangers. But when your eyes are opened to the brutal hate in the people you love? That hurts. That hurts like hell.

I love them. I know them. I've shared life with them. They've been there for me and vice versa through great times and terrible times. And then one day, I cracked open a book somebody gave me, and I began to love them even more while they began to hate me and reduce me to a stereotype. It wasn't something I said. It wasn't an aspect of my personality. It was the new category I fit into that they didn't associate with. At all.

But I'm still me. I didn't get beaten with an ignorant stick and lose all my reason, accountability or justice. I didn't lose my common sense. All I did was doubt my doubts. All I did was question my doctrine or whether I had had any at all. All I did was break down the walls I had constructed around me out of hate and ignorance.

That's not to say that people without faith are hateful people, nor are they ignorant, just that maybe what separates them from exploring spirituality in the form of God is hate and anger, as was the case in my own life. And if you're atheist or agnostic and think I'm wrong, feel free to let me know, but if you do so by means of angry rantings, you're likely to prove my point rather than your own. Just sayin'.

Anyway, that's not my point. My point is I chose a path that was excessively difficult. The life I am choosing makes me cry. Often. But while Jesus might not make me happy all the time, He infuses my life with a joy that I would never have known otherwise.

I could have hidden it. I could have been a closet Christian, which in some ways I was, but if I truly believe it, then hiding it is, as the Bible says, like putting a basket over a flame. You just don't do that. You let the light glow openly.

The other thing the theology pastor pointed out was that I expect Jesus to move in my life and change the most fundamental things about my core. I expect Him to change parts of me that I was born with or that are so ingrained into me that they are just second nature at this point. I expect him to change things about me that make me who I am. And I don't apply the same standards to gay people. It's hard for me to write anything remotely close to "gay people choose to be gay" because that makes me cringe instinctively, but at the same time, I do believe there is a lot of brokenness in my gay friends' lives that goes unchecked because their sexuality is such a huge issue. Their concept of love and relationships is so skewed, but the majority of the people I know just pass it off as being part of the gay perception, rather than being as hard on it as we are towards our hetero friends' busted up views of love and relationships.

[Keep in mind that I'm not categorizing all the gay people in the world. I'm just talking about a few I know. And also keep in mind that I'm just one girl, with my own perceptions and opinions based on my own limited experience and my opinions rarely are of any consequence in the great realm of things, so it's not like what you might disagree with in this post is moving through the lives of thousands of people or anything... /end midpost disclaimer :D]

Can gay people have healthy relationships? I still believe they can, just as much as heteros can. But just like heteros, I think they get stuck in patterns of self-fulfilling prophesy and cycles of interference from damaging emotional baggage that they drag along behind them.

Can Jesus heal the baggage and the relational brokenness? Sure. But the problem lies with what I feel gay people need. The problem lies with the fact that I actually don't know what Jesus needs to heal in them.

And that, the theology pastor said to me, is a fierce double standard.

So what is my role as a Christian in a gay person's life?

After a couple of weeks of working on it and praying on it, I came to the conclusion that the role is the same as it is in anybody's life- I just have to show them Jesus. I have to live out the Gospel all day, every day, and IF God opens their heart to it, and gives me the means through which I might guide them, and IF He calls them to repentance and drastic life changes, then my role will become one of a more active support in that respect.

But until then, telling a gay person they're sinning is way counterproductive. For a person who doesn't know Jesus to not sin is religion. It's not a change of heart. It's not a new heart.

Somebody in a sermon (I can't even remember which church it was) said, "The goal is not to try so hard to stop sinning, but to be satisfied in God." The goal is not religion and good behaviors, it's Jesus and the Gospel.

So if my friends are gay, and if members of my family idolize money, and other friends of mine idolize relationships, and others still are prideful and lustful, working desperately and hopelessly to get them to alter these core behaviors and perceptions will be fruitless and laden with judgment and resentment. The only way to effect the drastic change required for real life-changing repentance is if it comes as a reaction and response to the grace and mercy of God.

So what's my role? To live in Jesus, love in Jesus, forgive in Jesus and all the while, making sure I point it all back to Him and make it known that it is all done for His glory and not for the people around me to glorify me as a good, kind, loving and generous person. The goal is to reflect God in my every day life such that the people around me are stirred into passion for their own souls and their own eternity.

That's how I see it for now anyway.

And frankly, is that not enough of a challenge to focus on?