A Wall of Glass and Brick
The homosexuality debate. It’s something I’ve been engaged in with my lips, writing, heart, and mind for the last several months. Ever since I stumbled across the blog I wrote about here, I’ve been wrestling with the “Side A” (God blesses monogamous, loving same-sex relationships) and “Side B” (God designed sexuality for a man and a woman only) viewpoints. I’ve been reading and rereading the various arguments, thinking about them with a depth that is making me crazy, and begging God to help me make sense of it all.
See, in my last post, I talked about how I’m giving my heart permission to have a say in how I reframe my religion, and how I construct something new out of the broken mess it has become since I started asking questions. And every time I look at the two sides of the homosexuality debate, my heart pleads, begs, demands that I embrace a Side A interpretation of Scripture.
I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a room, Side A on one side and Side B on the other, with walls separating me from each side. Of course, being the good little Christian girl that I was, I used to stand squarely in the middle of Side B. But now I’ve strayed into this safe middle ground where I’m not taking a stand one way or the other. And as I’ve explored the two sides, with my heart and my head both intact, I’ve noticed something beginning to happen. With every story I read about a gay person, every theological argument, every heartbreaking or informative interview I listen to, I see the walls separating me from Side A and Side B begin to change. Side B is becoming a brick wall: hard, rough, impenetrable and cold. Unloving. So unlike God. And Side A is becoming like a thin, fragile screen of glass, with the light of Christ’s love on the other side begging to be entered into.
So here I stand, glancing back and forth at these two walls. I look at the brick, and where once I used to see God there, now I see only flawed, human ideas, rough and stubborn and empty of grace. And I look at the glass, and I see freedom and acceptance of love in all its romantic forms. I reach my hand out and touch the glass, curl my fingers into a fist and take a deep breath.
But I just can’t do it. I just can’t break through that glass, break into a place where I joyously affirm gay relationships as an expression of love that is pleasing to God. Why? I’m not sure. I want to say it’s because I don’t know enough yet, I haven’t scrutinized every brick on Side B yet.
Yet if I’m honest, I know that isn’t it. I don’t need to have exhaustive knowledge of a topic to form an opinion about it. I need to be informed, yes, but there comes a point where you use lack of knowledge as an excuse to keep from taking a stand. And I’m quite sure I’ve reached that point.
So I think I know the true reason for my hesitancy, and it’s not a very good one. I think it may be because I’m a coward. I’m terrified of being wrong, terrified of what the Christians around me will think when they know (if there’s one thing I’m stubborn about, it’s my refusal to keep my beliefs in the closet), terrified that this will be a step away from God instead of a step closer to Him, even though my heart and my mind are telling me so many things to the contrary.
So pray for me. Pray that I would find the courage to break the glass, to step into an affirming view of homosexuality with no trepidation, no fear, no guilt. Pray that I would find a way to break out of this paralyzing fear. Pray that I would come to a full acceptance of love in all its forms. I’m so close, my heart is so desperate to believe. But I still haven’t found a way to cast out the coward in me.