“I swear, it feels like I’ve walked into my brother’s room and seen his brains spread over the bed again. I can’t do this anymore.”
Last night I read these desperate words from a hurting friend.
Her brother committed suicide at sixteen, not because he wasn’t loved and accepted as gay by his family, but because the church he attended convinced him he would be better off dead than to ever give into his “nasty,” “perverted,” “sinful” attraction and desire for intimacy with someone of the same-sex.
Convinced him that God’s Word said acting on such desires was an abomination, demonic and disqualifying, unacceptable before God, and worthy of God’s wrath.
Her brother had cried and tried. He’d pleaded and prayed at the altar-call for God to take the gay away.
Then he came home, went to his room, and shut the door. She heard the shot. But he was gone before she could get to the door.
Seven years later, she still has the stained note he left behind — along with a hole in her heart and a whole lot of anger.
Anger at the ideology that created in her brother the need for the gun and bullet that took his life, and anger at the church community that sold that bill of goods to him.
Anger that this same community dared to take pity upon themselves for the loss of him, but none of the responsibility.
And the shooting in Orlando has opened that bedroom door to all of it for her all over again.
Empathy.
I’ve been asked if I can have empathy for those who hold a traditional conservative view regarding marriage and all things LGBTQ.
The same amount of empathy for them as I do for my LGBTQ friends and family members.
Yet in the white wake of tragedy that targeted and terrorized the LGBTQ community, in sanctuary, in Orlando, I watched the majority of my own church-mates here in Texas sit silently on their hands for more than a dozen hours after the fact.
And when called on it, watched them defend their silence.
I’ve been asked if I can have empathy for my Flower-Plex, Target-boycotting church-mates who’ve behind closed doors tried to dissuade me from my “crusade” and behind my back sought my removal from leadership.
Empathy for the convinced and the convincers that God’s Word calls homosexuality a sin, an abomination worthy of rejection, worthy of God’s wrath.
As much empathy for the bigots as I do for the bigotted-against.
The bullied, bloodied, bullet-holed bigotted-against…
The abandoned by parents, condemned by churches, bodies of brothers, and the sisters that find them.
And today
I’m like…
No.
Photo Credit: Pain and Love – Shotokan ZH
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yes!!! i absolutely love what you’re doing and saying here, and i love that you aren’t afraid to stay quiet, even with the judgement and with the people that are trying to remove you from leadership. keep doing what you’re doing:)
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Thank you! Yes. Folks are dying. And even living they’re being barked away from churches. And it’s really just not a good idea to ask me to be quieter about that.
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What I am about to say is my opinion, based on many years of study & prayer. I believe a person’s sin is between them & God, & I haven’t found degrees or levels of sin, except blasphemy, which is unpardonable, according to the Bible. Many sins are listed as abominations. We are to love & support folks who we may correct that want to change, but we are clearly told that God is their judge. Judgement involves hatred & condemnation. There isn’t room for that if you have unconditional love for others. The person the NT says we are to cast out are the ones with evil hearts who do not desire change for the better. And there are some who come into churches to destroy them. When those are discovered by discernment, not judgement, those are the ones we are instructed to cast away, not the hurting souls like that young man. A one size fits all rule doesn’t apply here. The tragedy is the tormented soul of the young man and his sister who is still hurting. Pray for her. Her heart needs healing. Regarding how Christians should behave, it should be characterized by unconditional love for others. That means never giving up on them. We should also spend more time and resources in helping people develop their personal walk/relationships with God, and not so much time tending to their business. We all have plenty of sin to correct in our own lives.
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I agree, it is a tragedy, both what happened to my friend’s brother, what happened in Orlando, what happens everyday to LGBTQ teens and young adults who are abandoned and rejected by their own parents because they are LGBTQ, and the discrimination these precious people endure on the daily from people who believe they deserve their brand of discipline. I agree we should love unconditionally, as Jesus loves us. I agree we should spend more time and resources on creating and being a shelter for care and healing (the very meaning of hospitality) for the hurting and seeking after God. And I think we can all do a better job of that when we stop being insufferable fruit-checkers, set down our creedal and deedal clip-boards, let God do whatever reforming and refining work he chooses (in his perfect and loving way, and on his time-table), and simply love one another. I trust God will do his part in those personal relationships he has with others, just like he does with each of us. Our part, though, is to love and accept, and love some more.
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Kudos to you! The world needs more accepting and what I call “normal” people like you who don’t judge!
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Thank you, Susan. Equally glad to know there’s at least one more out there. 🙂 (((hugs))))
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Thanks for this message I needed it.
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I’m so glad it helped in some way, John. And thank you for your comment.
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Yes! Yes! Yes!
Always *you*. Can *you* (the crusader) have empathy? Can you?
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe after I’ve composed myself. Maybe after you’ve taken into account what I said first. Then we can talk about my empathy for you.
It is such a trap. It is so disingenuous and a trick. It is such a lie.
And we, trying to name the brutality and the lying and the effect on real people, the lives hurt and destroyed by toxic Christianity, we get to be the ones on trial. No, not today. Let’s check back next week. After we’ve dealt with the problem. After we’ve helped our LGBTQ friends and given them shelter and a shoulder and the love of Christ. After we’ve dealt with that, then maybe we can deal with our plank towards the brutal ones. Then. After all are fed and clothed and cleaned. Then.
I love this so very much. You’ve spoken my heart.
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Amen, Drew. I like the way your mind thinks and your heart leans. Well met.
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I agree 100%! I have been fighting against these disingenuous Christians for years. Christians in general are viewed as hate group by most of the secular world and for good reason – the Westboro Baptist churches of the world and their following echo their anger and hatred through our beliefs, our faith, ever so loudly and often, yet most Christians remain silent. Even if they don’t encourage this way of thinking they are afraid to refute it (or too ignorant to know how) and their inaction becomes accepted as consent. This silence causes more damage than the initial injury because we could help, but instead watch the people whose hearts have been affected slowly bleed out spiritually.
Awesome post!
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Right there with you, Shane. The silence is not just deafening, not just damaging, it’s deadly. I believe the tide is turning though. And it will keep turning if we keep speaking. In the raising of our voices, we inspire confidence in like-minded-and-hearted others to find and raise their own, and we educate those who sincerely, and for a multitude of reasons, don’t know any better.