Last week, I wrote about racism and homophobia and the rise of angsty Christians. It’s such a heavy triad of topics, I realized I’d need two posts to say everything.
And then Freddie Gray happened.
And then the Supreme Court’s gay marriage hearings happened.
And then more angsty Christians emerged, and I realized there probably aren’t enough posts in the world for me to say everything as eloquently and effectively as I’d like to say.
But I’m going to try continuing this hard conversation.
On Freddie Gray and the riots in Baltimore, it’s either those f#$%ing looters need to go f#$%ing home, or the f#$%ing police need to fix their f#$%ing corruption.
Only one side can be right, and each side thinks it’s them — leaving the other side as the enemy.
Only one war can be waged and won.
But what if we’re looking at these divisive issues through too focused a lens? What if we zoomed out just a tad without worry of “backsliding” or “compromise” from an utterly negative connotation?
What if we settled racism and homophobia the same way we decide on dinner?
[tweetthis]What if we settled racism and homophobia the same way we decide on dinner?[/tweetthis]
“Oh, you want pizza? I was kinda feeling sushi tonight.”
“Oh, really? Sushi is gross, I can’t stand it.”
“Okay, so sushi’s out then. But I just had pizza last night.”
“Okay, how about an Italian restaurant? I could still get pizza, and you could get pasta or something.”
“Sure, I could go for that. But I’m picking dessert.”
“That works. By the way, have you been working out? You’re looking more like Chris Pratt is looking more like Arnold Schwarzenegger everyday.”
Granted, gay marriage and racism are way more complicating than pizza and sushi and Chris Pratt’s abs. Gay marriage is especially tricky because of the religious component.
But what if people on every side took intentional efforts to make everything less complicating?
Let’s say gay marriage is a sin, it goes against God’s design, and all the other lines certain angsty Christians like to shout on impulse before even learning the gay couple’s names.
Would it be okay to let gay people be who they are and do what they want while focusing on our own marriages and struggles? Or do we Christians need to plant our feet on this issue regardless the public reaction because God’s reaction is all that matters?
Will it be our “fault” if gays get married in all 50 states? Will Jesus one day look at us and shake His head because we let the gays win?
Are all cops honorable human beings for wearing the uniform, or could a few perhaps be unhealthily obsessed with power? Could a few black people be awful scoundrels just like more than a few white people most certainly are?
There are angsty Christians who think rioting blacks are delusional.
There are angsty Christians who think parading gays are ruining our country.
And there are also angsty Christians who denigrate the uber-conservative Church — their Church — with every tweet, blog, book, and seemingly every output of energy.
It’s amazing how vastly different we Christians are. We’re a liberal Church and a conservative Church. We’re sinners, we’re saints, and we’re stuck with each other for all eternity.
Yay?
For more on this complicatedly diverse Church body, I recommend Donald Miller’s recent post, “The Dysfunctional Family of God.”
We’re all different, and that’s okay. But before you hit Publish Tweet on that zinger you’ve been crafting, maybe you should take a literal step back and extend your gaze only a few extra inches.
What if we changed the conversation from “cops are out of control” to “cops need accountability like every other profession”?
What if our first reaction wasn’t “gay marriage is wrong” but “gay people are made in God’s image”?
Let’s imagine a scenario:
Say you live next door to a gay racist restaurant-owning couple in Mississippi who wants to get married and refuses service to black people. What do you say to them? What do you do?
Invite them over for dinner. That’s it. Don’t over-complicate it. Don’t even worry about converting them or changing them on charges of homosexuality or racism, because, well, that’s not really on you, is it?
Let God do the dirty stuff; let us do the dinner stuff.
Why not simply share the same table with these gay racists and hear their story and ask them to pass the gravy?
Alas, some Christians can’t fathom eating dinner with a gay person, let alone a gay married couple. And you know how I know this? I used to be one of them.
Then I went on a little road trip.
I stayed with so many other gay people around North America. Lots of gay/SSA Christians like me, but lots of gay individuals beyond my safe bubble of Christianity.
My core beliefs never changed, but my mindset toward gay people sure did. I’d always been so angsty toward gays because they’re doing and being what I’m denying.
They get to eat the cookie but I don’t, and that sucks.
But you know what I learned about gay people from California to Georgia? They’re awesome.
Oh, it was extremely uncomfortable at first. Some of the first gay people I ran into on #RunningTo wanted to take me to a gay bar, and I wanted to #RunTo the next time zone.
By the end of my road trip, however, I loved interacting with gay people of all ages, relationship statuses, and proclivities toward gay bars. Gay people are hilarious, sincere conversationalists with huge hearts.
Sometimes we shared about our religions or lack thereof. But most of the time we just talked and laughed and ate dinner together.
You know. Human stuff.
I still have my convictions about homosexuality; it’s partly what makes me who I am. But I’ve also had my eyes and heart opened to this sliver of humanity that used to be so unknown and threatening, even.
We’re naturally afraid of foreign things, and that’s the biggest problem with issues of race, religion, and sexuality. If it’s not like us, sometimes we want nothing to do with it.
We stick with our race and religion because it’s what we know and it’s safe. We look at other people in terms of “teams” instead of “teammates.”
But this life — this Christian life — isn’t about being safe on the “right” team.
I look at the life of Jesus and I see this normal yet radical guy who walked around talking to whores at wells and thieves in sycamore trees. He went beyond His city and gender and race and met everyone on the fringe.
Jesus invited people of all shapes and sizes into a conversation, into a moment, and the moment changed them.
It’s so much easier to love others when you stop assigning them to teams and wars and rights and wrongs. I’m a better person for knowing gay people and black people and gay black people and adding their messy miraculous stories to my own lens of humanity’s splotchy collage.
I understand them better, and I understand myself better, too.
So, let’s quiet our souls and give our gay racist homophobic angsty brothers and sisters a listening ear. They need us more than ever, and we kinda need them too.
Let’s do dinner. I’ll bring the green bean casserole.
*deep breath*
What do you think?
