A Better Way

Note: I REALLY hate some of the labels I use in this, and believe that our insistence on these labels only serves to divide. Instead of labels being used as broad categories to identify relative starting points, they've become tools to demand ideological purity. I use labels, though, for ease of reading.

First, I want to start this with an apology. When I was caught in the current pulling me into the fruitless vortex of progressive fundamentalism, it was far too easy for me to hurl out names like “bigot” or “transphobe” at anyone who didn't affirm every aspect of my life. It was mindless, reductionist thinking. I couldn’t see people beyond their specific stance on policy related to trans people. I was wrong. I am sorry. Far too many strangers were branded with vile labels based solely on tweets rooted in what I feel to this day was just a lack of information.

But, that’s the thing about my faith. It’s a faith of redemption. Of forgiveness. Of grace. We screw up, but that never has to be the end of the story. As I have found, despite the prevailing narrative from my own community, ABSOLUTELY NOBODY will be swayed by screaming at them. No hearts are moved by publicly shaming people for using the wrong pronoun. Nobody will wrestle with these issues and seek more information because someone called them a “trans exterminationist” (yes, I’ve heard this before). Unhinged claims rooted in narcissistic demands that everyone agree with everything about you do not work.

So how do we make headway? Well, I can only going to speak for myself here. I want to stress that point right now. Just because I believe something is a better way for myself, does not mean I am making prescriptive statements for all people. If you want to throw figurative bombs at everyone who offends you, that’s your prerogative. Personally, I believe it is counterproductive, but “you do you”. As for me and my house, we choose a different path.

I first must give credit where credit is due. Something woke me up one day. It may have just been logic after truly thinking about some of the things I’d hear from my trans siblings. Things that made no scientific or theological sense. Or it may have been the church that we have found that actually lives out a better way centered on love. Or it was just a perfect storm of both. Regardless, the scales have fallen from my eyes over the past year, and I have seen a way that actually seems to work. But it’s not easy. Rage and judgement are easy. Living in the tense middle ground is not.

You know what, though? Living in that tension works. I see it daily. Our church models it. When we first began attending our church, we walked into a situation where there seemed to be frustration and worry. The Christian Reformed Church was becoming increasingly hardline on LGBTQ+ positions. But we could tell our church was full of people who simply wanted to love others. It reminded us of the first church we found after leaving the Army. For the first time in our lives, we had found a place that was defined by its love. I was unsure that we’d find something like that in the heart of Reformed Christianity, but we did. And, just like with Cinco Ranch Church of Christ, this church has changed our lives forever.

But we had come into a church that seemed to exist in the thick of that tension. From what we understand, some people left because the church had not become officially welcoming of queer people quickly enough. Some people left because the church was taking too long in discussing the topic. And some left because the church was discussing the topic at all. We came in, though, and were immediately wrapped in the warmest of hugs. We heard of all the tension, but for Heather and me, we didn’t really care what the policy was. We could see what their praxis was. We could see what their fruit was.

So, we continued to show up. We continued to taste of the amazing fruit that they were producing. We were allowed to join the church. We were immediately added to the list of youth group volunteers. Our daughter was baptized there. We were never tokenized. We were never made to feel inferior, even before the church changed our “Statement of Belonging” to tell the world that even someone like me belonged there. That wasn’t the end of the story though. Now it was time for rolling up our sleeves and getting into the truly hard work.

When many of my queer/trans siblings talk about “inclusive churches”, they don’t seem to really want truly inclusive churches. Based on what I’ve seen, many simply want churches that are safe for THEM. Given the poor history of how the church has treated the queer community, that’s understandable. But being safe for queer people does not an inclusive church make. Our church found a better way. We wanted to be truly inclusive, which means being just as safe for those who hold to a more “traditional” view of LGBTQ+ people/theology as they are for the LGBTQ+ community.

So, we set a course through that tense middle. We made it clear that our desire wasn’t to only be safe for one side or the other, but instead to reflect the Kingdom of God and circle around the table and break bread with those with whom we disagree. It is easy to stay in a state of perpetual rage, as I see many on both sides of this debate. It’s easy to find comfort in your silo, but there is no growth in a silo. Or, as I've said before, there is no growth in an echo chamber.

We chose grace. We chose love. I recall at our Service of Lament one long-time member standing up and sharing the most beautiful words. He is more on the traditionalist side, but it wasn’t about “sides” for him. It was about love. It was about lament. It was about repentance. Most importantly, it was about moving forward together. We continue to see the good fruit produced when we choose relationship and community over tribalism.

Living in that tension is hard work. It’s grueling. It makes me think of the backlash a friend of mine received when she tweeted about her wrestling on this topic and coming down on “Side B”. For those who are not aware, “Side A” are “fully-affirming” and “Side B” are people who believe it’s okay to be queer, but it is sinful to "act" on it. She faced considerable backlash from my queer siblings and our allies. But I thought her post was beautiful, because what I saw when I read it was that this is someone who has lovingly wrestled with the subject. I quote tweeted her to say how proud I was that she was my friend, and my DM’s blew up with anger. Living in that tension is hard work.

There’s someone who is even further from me on this topic and would probably be considered “Side X”. This is someone with whom I disagree on countless theological matters. But a mutual friend wanted us to connect. We had both received hatred from our own communities for our willingness to talk to those on the "other side". I was hesitant. I didn’t consider this person safe. But I was wrong. We continue to talk, and they have been some of the most enjoyable conversations I’ve had. I have found that she’s such a genuinely kind person who loves her family and God so deeply. She is someone I look forward to meeting face-to-face one day. We don't approach these conversations with some ulterior motive to get the other to change their mind. We just get to know each other as human beings created in God's divine image.

This is how hearts are changed. It’s in the tension that we see the image of God in others. It’s in the tension that we grow. It’s easy to hurl bombs from the comfort of our silos. Those bombs don’t threaten those in the silos, but they sure do give the throwers a smug sense of accomplishment. But that’s the irony of it all. They accomplish nothing. Those living in the tension don’t have the luxury of throwing bombs, as the bombs will harm us too. No, we have to choose a different approach. We must choose love. Where Love disarms, silos become ammunition depots. Love requires placing others above ourselves. Silos require that we elevate ourselves above all.

The better way is clear, at least for me. At least for me as someone who calls herself a follower of our Christ who modeled self-sacrificial enemy love all the way to the cross. “BUT THEY’LL TAKE ADVANTAGE OF US!!!” Okay? They nailed Jesus to a tree. I have long received hatred from my trans counterparts for speaking of grace, compassion, and patience with those who don’t understand us or even agree with who we are. But what’s the alternative? Screaming? Condemnation? Becoming the very thing that we accuse the other of being?

So we choose grace. We choose love. Regardless of the result. As my friend Carissa told me, “go Proverbs on them and heap some burning coals”. I believe going out and living normal lives, even in the face of legislative attacks, is going to change many more hearts than crucifying anyone who gets a pronoun wrong. Heaping burning coals is what will turn enemy into friend. It doesn't give you the dopamine hits that a long ranting twitter thread may, but it can lead to changed hearts. And, in the end, isn't that what we truly desire?