By Ian Haddock
Over the past several months, LGBTQ+ folx have been overrun with spotlight as Christian denominations’ dysfunction has been prominently displayed. It has never been an easy feat to identify as both a Christian and LGBTQ+, but in the modern day, some would say that they are completely opposing viewpoints. Balancing the two can feel like hiding both of your identities under a rock. With the recent headlines surrounding the Southern Baptist Church’s and the United Methodist Church’s decisions on LGBTQ+ acceptance, things haven’t gotten any easier.
On February 10, 2019, the Houston Chronicle reported that there were 700 victims of sexual assault in the last two decades within the Southern Baptist church, along with 220 clergy folk convicted of at least one crime. Many of them return to the pulpit—even after conviction. This, of course, is the same institution that places blame and ownership over many of the bodies within their own congregation. In many of these churches, women can’t be appointed as ministers and homosexual and transgender folx are condemned as “abominations” in the eyes of God. What’s more, according to the article, Texas has had more of these convictions than any other state. Worse though, is that some of these sexual misconduct convictions were in relation to male clergy assaulting a member or members of the same sex—yet, these crimes seem to be forgiven by the same congregation that actively condemns homosexuality. Whew. Let’s take a breath on that.
Still, more recently, another denomination—the United Methodist Church—has decided to keep their ban against same–sex clergy and marriages in place. A divisive topic, this has major implications on the sect of believers who identify as LGBTQ+ Christians. In an article by the National Institute of Health, the organization makes the strong argument that the denial of same-sex affirming practices contributes to minority stress and can be a public health issue. Even churches here in Houston feel that this issue could be one that detrimentally causes dissent amongst the ranks.
Michael Vallery, a devout member of St. John’s United Methodist Church in downtown Houston, traveled to his weekly church service this weekend, a space that has been affirming of LGBTQ+ people and social activism long before those terms were popular. From the church’s homeless initiative to its 23-year-old HIV testing and counseling program, St. John’s is a spotlight of hope for many communities. However, the church still sits on a precipice due to the very rigid decision from its larger denomination. St. John’s seems to be doing something that few in the denomination have done: standing up for what’s right. Vallery says: “I was moved by the outpouring of love and support for inclusiveness in my church. The love that I felt in the moment healed countless wounds. I couldn’t be prouder to be a member.” St. John’s pastor, Rudy Rasmus, told the Houston Chronicle, “Discrimination and injustice in any form—whether it’s sexual identity or race—it all leaves the same scar.”
As Rasmus stated, these forms of discrimination add to the already existent trauma and social determinants that intersect with being a millennial, queer, and Christian. It makes it hard to exist as a believer in the faith when the religion seems to crucify you from every angle.
Considering its many discriminatory actions, some suggest that LGBTQ+ folx should leave the church altogether. Many millennials are choosing this path—according to the Public Religion Research Institute, millennials have left the church at a significantly higher rate than other age groups (32 percent versus 10 percent), citing the church’s treatment of gay and lesbian people as one of the main reasons for their departure. Yet, for a large number of us, we stay in these spaces simply so that we can feel connected to the divine, or as a sort of punishment for our natural desire for companionship.
I am waiting on the day when more churches will align with St. John’s UMC and stop treating the LGBTQ+ community like subhumans. Whichever way you look at it, as much as we need the church, the church needs us—LGBTQ+ folx sit at the crux of ensuring many of these churches survive. LGBTQ+ folx are the ones who manage the elaborate and intentional planning of the worship services that keep the lights on. LGBTQ+ folx are the ones who do the writing, arranging, directing, singing, hair, makeup, and fashion for the church productions. It’s as though our gifts can be used and appreciated, but not our love. Ironically, we are ones who need such love the most, as our intersectional identities make us the most subject to oppression. From homelessness to suicide to HIV, LGBTQ+ folx need compassion, affirmation, and acceptance more than any community. We need love and, if God is defined as love, then we need to be able to know him too—and to feel holistically safe when attaining this love.
I believe it can happen, I just don’t know if it will happen in my lifetime. I plan to keep trying, to keep fighting, as I continue to seek a greater understanding of myself as a Gay Christian. Until then, I will continue to sit at home and praise God in my bedroom. I can’t be connected to spirit in places that are unsafe for me.
Ian L. Haddock is the Executive Director of The Normal Anomaly Initiative. They are the producers of Outcry the Docu-Series, which looks at the effects of the church’s response to sexuality and health disparities. The Normal Anomaly Initiative seeks to express narratives through multiple media formats that reduce stigma, build confidence, and increase prevention and treatment amongst LGBTQ+ folx, those living with HIV, and/or those coping with mental health disorders. Learn more at normalanomaly.com.
