Dear Fellow Converts:

From time to time, I wander into reviews of books I will never read. Okay, usually what I know about a book is from a review rather that firsthand knowledge, but my breathtakingly slow reading speed is not the purpose of this musing. 

Recently I read a review of a conservative evangelical author championing once again the values of conversion therapy for those with same-sex orientation. The reviewer, who had nothing but disdain for the author’s commendations, highlighted the work of over a dozen national and international psychiatric and medical associations who have determined that conversion therapy is “discredited, ineffective, and dangerous.” This point was in response to the author’s claim that “identifying as a gay Christian…creates a barrier to the possibility of God changing a person’s orientation.” I must confess I shared the reviewer's sharp critique, and the reviewer’s words got me musing.

Over the years I have encountered many a friend, colleague, parishioner struggling in their relationship with the church as it seemed to conflict with their orientation. I have listened to many who have struggled to “pray their gay away” with little success. With tears they have pleaded with God to transform their orientation to bring their personal inclinations in line with what they were told were “Biblical principles.” For many, their experience of the church was a judgmental condemnation expressed by people who weren’t anchored in anything more than a deeply rooted repulsion for anything non-binary. They felt their only hope was a miraculous transformation wherein God would change their body. As I read the book review, it dawned on me that in many communities of faith, their prayer has been answered.

What has been transformed is not the psychophysiology of personal identity, but a wonderful metamorphosis of the congregational body around them. What needed changing was not the body of the struggling individual, but the orientation of the body of Christ. They needed a body of fellowship no longer at peace with having any of its members cowering in a closet. Over the course of the past few decades, this transformation cannot be understood as anything less than divine healing.

As with any miracle, there are doubters. When Jesus healed the blind man in John chapter 9, there were some who claimed the seeing man wasn’t the same guy (verse 9). Others insisted the healing wasn’t valid because Jesus didn’t keep all the other laws (verse 16). Still others continued to condemn the man because of his former blindness (verse 34). The pivot of the whole story is about who is blind and who is sighted, a curious parallel because it calls into question the values of community and inclusion. Bringing sight to the blind was one thing; transforming a community’s vision to see the power of inclusion was another miracle altogether.

In the past few years our leadership has been encouraged to be more explicit in our public-facing inclusion of LGBTQ+ individuals and families, perhaps planting a rainbow flag at our entrance or other symbolic expression of our affirming welcome. I’ve been resistant, not because I’m uncomfortable with public expressions of inclusion, but because of how they create another barrier of exclusion. It announces to the larger community that those who are struggling with demons of resistance are explicitly unwelcome. We cannot demonstrate the power of inclusion by defining our welcome at the door. My desire for our community of faith is that people are invited to come as they are, who they are, no pre-screening allowed. Once inside, the power of God’s Spirit dwelling within us can transform what lived community can be. If we won’t see you, we can’t include you; and if you’re not included, we won’t be changed.

Praying for a body unashamed to welcome all its parts, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor