Why this pastor is FOR same-sex marriage

I've seen too many words in recent days and most of them are the same tired old points. By saying that I don't mean that they are necessarily wrong, just that I've heard them before; I've listened (I really have) and I've been open to being wrong about all of this, but here I stand anyway.

To my mind, this issue of being "pro-gay" or "anti-gay" has everything to do with power. I hope you allow me a minute to explain, because if you stop at this point of saying "Scripture says it; end of story" you're missing the forest for the trees. Scripture has some things to say on the subject. Probably most famously, Leviticus calls relations between two men an "abomination" and, probably most importantly, Romans 1 talks about "exchanging natural intercourse for unnatural" (v. 26-27). Other scripture, like Adam and Eve and Sodom and Gomorrah, could be interpreted in a similar light, but it is most definitely just that--an interpretation (and in the case of Sodom and Gomorrah at least, in my view an irresponsible one).

A bit of context helps: Leviticus is part of the holiness code that differentiates the early Israelites from the other landed people who were a threat to them. For the Israelites it was incredibly important to keep themselves distinct from the dominant cultures; so no shellfish, no mixed fabric clothes, etc., but it was even more important that they procreate and keep the line going. It was so important, in fact, that men were allowed to enter into marital relationships that are not the traditional man-woman model that has been our primary example in the world today. You know, something about "Be fruitful and multiply" trumped everything else, and it's not very fruitful to have same-sex relations--not in that way. In Romans, the context is different. Paul is part of a persecuted Christian sect. All Christians in his time lived that way. They were under the Roman empire and may have been (or, more than likely, would be) jailed or even killed for their beliefs. This Roman culture included many examples of sin run amok: idolatry chief among them, also murder, slander, jealousy, etc., and among those is this business of "exchanging" normal sexual relations for same-sex relations.

OK, so here's where I believe too many American Christians are creating a false equivocation. I think too many of us put ourselves in Paul's shoes as a persecuted minority speaking out against the debased majority when the truth is almost exactly the opposite. I am the majority. I am white, male, and straight. Most of those speaking out most vocally against same-sex marriage also have power by virtue of their race, gender, and/or sexuality. Few of us can faithfully put ourselves in Paul's shoes. Of course, that doesn't mean that Paul is wrong, and it doesn't mean that the holiness code of Leviticus doesn't apply, but it does bring into question whether it applies now in the same way.



You see, my concern about using these scriptures against LGBTQ people is that we are overwhelmingly the ones in power, and they are the persecuted ones. And I'm not just talking about overt bullying (though that is a huge issue); I'm also talking about covert, subtle, under-the-surface messages about human worth. Yes, all are sinful; but that's no excuse to dehumanize the already-convicted. I can't in good conscience translate the experience of same-sex individuals today into the experience that Paul is talking about in Rome, or what the Israelites experienced either in Judea or in exile. And I don't believe it's enough to love the sinner and hate the sin, because by doing that we continue to perpetuate the same kind of power dynamics that Paul found so abhorrent in Roman society.

Jesus Christ taught us many things about how to live as human beings. One of those most often quoted in favor of same-sex relations is "Love God and love your neighbor," but I think there's an even better argument for a favorable view of same-sex marriage than this, which is that Jesus' overwhelming narrative is one of tearing down principalities and powers and lifting up the lowly. Mary's Magificat in Luke 1 pretty much encapsulates this. So do the Beatitudes.

Right now, LGBTQ people are the lowly. They're the ones bullied because of an identity that is outside of their control. They're persecuted by a church that accepts them only about halfway... only about as much as it allows us to keep our power over them, reminding them both implicitly and explicitly that they are not saints... not in the same way as straight people.

I'm sick of this. Really, truly, sick of it.

And I hear the slippery slope argument as well: the one that says we're on the road to allowing polygamy and pedophilia and all of that, and I call that for being the bologna that it is. Both polygamy and pedophilia (and, for that matter, pornography) are examples of power run amok; they are not egalitarian relationships in the slightest. If one man has two wives (or seven) he has power that they do not share in equitably; the very nature of the relationship is turned in on the one who has power--i.e. it's sinful. Pedophilia is even worse. Pornography is the opposite of a relationship; it is using sex as power apart from relationship.

Same-sex marriage presents none of these problems. If there comes a day when "traditional" marriage is persecuted and same-sex partnerships have power over straight people, then I reserve the right to change my opinions. Perhaps one day we-Christians in America will be like Paul again, under the thumb of a secular-pagan Roman empire, but for now I feel more convicted only halfway accepting my LGBTQ brothers and sisters than I do for violating the commands of scripture. Worse still, I'm concerned that the Christian message is suffering precisely because of our power; that those who we are meant to reach--the least, the last, the lowly, the little, and the lost--can't hear the Gospel because of the hypocrisy, because they understand that we hold all the moral trump cards and Christianity is always going to be hypocritical when it is not dying to itself and confessing that in weakness we find our strength.

I am a sinner; I may be at fault here. I may be interpreting the word of God wrongly. Lord knows, I can make mistakes. I submit this humbly, but at least if I make a mistake here it will be out of love for my neighbor, especially the one who is persecuted. And I will err that way all day long.