Response to Celia Riley's Article on the Election of Trump - Part 1

Warning: this is a long one.

I just read this article by Celia Riley, and I strongly recommend that everyone read it because it's a fantastic response to the election of Trump as POTUS. As someone who's survived abuse repeatedly, I found myself agreeing with every word that Ms. Riley has written.

But ...

(Those who know me just knew there had to be a but in here somewhere!)

… there was a notable and significant absence from the roll-call of groups the author named. That isn't to say the ones she did name don't deserve to be there. Every single one does, and for very good reasons described at some length in her piece. But it does highlight a certain myopia which I think needs to be challenged.

And given her background (conservative Christian) and mine (LGBT, raised by evangelical parents) it shouldn't take too many guesses to guess why I noticed it, and why I was disappointed, but not surprised, to find it was missing. So I guess I have some thoughts about this.

Since they divide nicely in two, I'll put the second set in another blog post (I'll post it first, so scroll down on the front page of my blog) but firstly here's my response to Celia herself. And Celia (and any other conservatives reading this) I hope you recognise that I am trying to be respectful, and ask that you read this with an open mind and prayerful heart, and let God instruct you as to whether I am right or wrong.

I grew up within the British evangelical/house church movement, and can think of three common reasons why a conservative Christian (other than a pastor) would choose not to include LGBT people in an article like that one. In your case, Celia, I think the first almost certainly doesn't apply, and the second probably doesn't either.

#1: Many people choose conservative versions of their faith because they have a deep personal fear or disgust of people who are different from or "other than" them.

LGBT people are usually at or near the top of that list regardless of the religion in question, although people of different races, other faiths or who have disabilities are also common targets. In some cases there is an underlying comprehension that the fear or disgust is irrational, so some form of rationalisation of the animosity is sought. Conservative versions of religion can be attractive because their leaders often willingly provide the “rational reasons” which excuse or affirm an underlying animus towards a particular group.

I do not believe this applies in your case, since your blog post shows clearly that you have no underlying animus towards people of other races, faiths, etc., which suggests that you don't have an underlying animus more generally. If you did, you probably would have been overjoyed at Trump's victory. Note: I only include this because it is important to understand the psychology of some within conservative religious movements.

#2: Many believe so ardently in their particular brand of religion, or live in such fear of the loss of salvation, that they will choose to believe unquestioningly in whatever their religious teacher proclaims. If this sounds cult-like, it's because it is – and it is a feature of some groups within the conservative Christian movement.

Because I grew up within the evangelical movement in the UK, I saw this at work first-hand. It is why many friends and family – people I had always thought of as rational and intelligent – voted for Brexit a few months ago: they had been convinced by certain religious teachers that the European Union, which has created the longest period of relative peace in Europe for over two millennia, is literally the antichrist. (This doesn't mean the EU is without its flaws, but it is certainly not the antichrist.)

As before, I doubt this applies to you. In this case it is because your blog posts strikes me as coming from someone whose capacity for rational thought makes it unlikely. The fact that you recognise Trump for what he is and what he represents also strongly supports this opinion. If I didn't think that, there'd be no point in me writing all this!

#3: Many succumb to social pressure to conform to the religious teachings of their particular faith group, even if they don't personally believe in a particular teaching themselves.

This is another which I know very well, as it is why I was for many years deeply homo- and transphobic. I was never worried about losing my salvation (I'll explain why below) but I was scared of losing my social network. I know that many within the church I used to attend felt and still feel the same way as me, but choose to remain because – being heterosexual and cisgender – it doesn't affect them directly. A proclamation of heresy can even result in alienation by one's own family. I have an unknown number of cousins whose names I will never know because their branch of the family are strict baptists and refuse to have anything to do with the "heretical" evangelicals, Jehovah's Witnesses, Quakers and agnostics in the rest of the family.

However I believe that allowing one's actions and professed beliefs to be determined by social pressure rather than genuine belief is detrimental to one's integrity, and this is a strong reason why we should all individually take the time to examine carefully what we believe. In this case, we should read widely, including books from both pro- and anti- positions and various analyses of the relevant passages of the Bible. I particularly recommend Timothy Kurek's “The Cross in the Closet” (Amazon US), which doesn't go into the scriptural issues very much, but does look at the issue from a possibly unique social and experiential perspective.

However I want to provide you with another perspective which I think tends to be overlooked or ignored by theologians on both sides of the debate, despite the fact that it is based on a principle at the core of Christian faith.

Note: to anyone who is reading this and isn't Christian, this might seem dry, dull and irrelevant. That's fine, and you shouldn't feel obligated to read it all, although some of my second blog post will refer to it.

As a logical progression, belief in the principle of Grace, and salvation through the cross, requires that what you personally believe about the spiritual significance and sinfulness of a particular action only applies to you, not to anyone else.

Most if not all conservative theologians do accept this, based on Acts 10 vs 9-16 – Peter's vision of the sheet with the unclean animals. However they also claim that sexual sin is a particular type of sin which is exempt from this. However there is actually a very solid, scripturally-supportable theological argument against that claim. This is because any claim that any particular type of sin is exempt is a claim that Grace, and therefore God's power, is limited. This means that God cannot be omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, etc.

This means the claim that homosexuality is an unforgivable sin only makes logical sense if you ignore core beliefs about the divinity of God, which arguably makes the claim itself blasphemous.

This doesn't mean it's not sin, only that it cannot be an unforgivable sin. This brings us to the second part of the argument, which is laid out in Romans chapters 6 and 14, and a few other places in the New Testament. (Note: I'm not relying on the Old Testament because I don't view it as relevant to a discussion focusing primarily on Grace, an entirely NT concept.)

For me the key is the difference between the Law of Sin (the basis of pre-crucifiction teaching) and Grace (the basis of post-crucifiction faith).

As a guiding concept the Law of Sin seems simple, but is actually very complicated: a list of dos and don'ts which can be all but impossible for imperfect humans to achieve, can become self-contradictory or require the rejection of basic human decency in certain circumstances, and can be manipulated by others to their own ends. The core principle of this system of belief is that any single sinful act, no matter how insignificant, can be enough to lose salvation, and therefore a sacrifice is required for atonement.

Grace and the crucifiction together undo this entire construct, not by dismissing it outright, but by providing a single sacrifice of sufficient purity and value that it could atone for all sins, and thereafter requiring not sinlessness, but a desire to be obedient.

This means that it is the individual's own personal beliefs about right and wrong, not any external list, which are important. The desire to be obedient to God's will always comes with the desire to not sin, and the continuous decision to not sin is an outworking of that desire. This means that differences of opinion about what does and does not constitute sin should actually be irrelevant. If one person believes that drinking any alcohol is sinful, then their response to Grace should be to not drink alcohol. If another believes drinking alcohol is only sinful in excess, then their response to Grace should be to drink only in moderation.

Grace requires this to be universally true, regardless of the “sin” in question, which might raise concerns about what we generally consider extreme and unforgivable acts – murder, rape, etc. However Christ himself gave us a benchmark to help us determine whether or not any particular act is right or wrong, the two great commandments: that we should love God, and love one-another. Any action which is opposed to either or both of these commandments is wrong. Any action which affirms them is right. Any action which either harms another or drives them away from Christ fails this test, and is therefore a sinful act.

My family can be used as a real life example of how this works out in practice. I believe drinking in moderation is not sinful, however my step-cousins inherited genes which make all three of them susceptible to addiction (their mother is a recovering alcoholic) and so all three view drugs, including alcohol, as sinful for them specifically, because it would come between them and God. Therefore I choose not to drink alcohol when I am around them because by doing so I would be tempting them to do something they consider sinful.

As far as homosexuality is concerned, I believe that Christians should choose their actions based on how they will be experienced by gay men, lesbians, etc. themselves. This is because the goal should not be to force LGBT people into the Christian mode of thinking, as that would only make sense if you're still believing in the Law of Sin, rather than in Grace. Actions which are perceived as harmful by LGBT people also drive them away from Christ, which is the opposite of what Christians should be trying to do. In my case, I nolonger feel comfortable in churches because of my past experiences, and now worship with the Quakers as their traditions are sufficiently different from what I grew up with.

There will, of course, always be some for whom homosexuality is abhorrent and sinful. My recommendation is simply to avoid LGBT people whenever possible, which is easy since events and locations where LGBT people gather, such as Pride, are usually fairly well-known or well-advertised. For those who do believe that homosexuality is wrong, a belief in Grace denies them the right to impose their beliefs on LGBT people regardless of how much they might wish to. And since years of animosity have driven most LGBT people away from the Church, most LGBT people are not bound by the same restriction.

Which leads into my other thoughts, and my second blog post (which will go up before this one so people can read them in order as they scroll down): if they accept and agree with what I've written above, and if they are opposed to Trump, how should conservative Christians act towards the LGBT community?