I read and enjoyed an article in the last edition of The Faithful Observer which resonated with me personally and which offered the author’s thoughts on LGBTQ+ identities and how Christians might respond to our culture’s movement towards embracing expressions of sexuality and gender which often are at odds with our tradition. The author, Mason Anderson, admitted with Christian humility that the LGBTQ+ experience was “not one [he] had personally lived out.” I, however, have lived it out and continue to, and so I hope I will be allowed to add some thoughts to the conversation. I also am of the opinion that this topic demands a longer and more thorough treatment than the one it was given, and I hope that readers will take into account the totality of my argument before developing a response.
LGBTQ+ Christians have often been pushed to the remotest edges of the very rooms where people are discussing our right to exist in the Church. While it can be tempting to say that those without this experience should not get to speak on it, I am restrained by my hope and belief that the grace that is active in the life of each Christian impels us always to come to the defense of the vulnerable, and that it matters less who is speaking the more we are conformed to Christ, because each Christian should have each other’s best interest at heart. I also intend to give credit where credit is due: I believe Mr. Anderson has handled this issue with both charity and clarity, and this is a difficult feat. I wish in some cases to draw out certain points of his argument in order to push back against them and in others to uphold and strengthen them.
A position I take issue with which was expressed in Anderson’s article but is certainly not unique to him is that it is wrong for a Christian to identify as gay because to do so is to root our identity outside of Christ. This is initially compelling, but breaks down upon further inspection: all of us, I believe, identify to greater or lesser degrees with things that are not Christ. We can identify as male or female, as students, as disabled, as Black or Indigenous, as Oklahomans, as Americans. None of these negate our Christian identity so long as they remain subordinate to it, and all of them are at odds with Christian identity as soon as they become idols. Just as to say “I am American” is nothing but a neutral expression of national identity until we begin to put more faith in political leaders and national borders than in Christ, it seems that to say “I am gay” presents no inherent conflict with the Christian faith. The conflict arises when we give inordinate importance to identity labels, raising them from the level of useful descriptors and choosing to anchor ourselves in things which are passing away rather than in the eternal God. Yet when I say that I am gay many Christians take it upon themselves to read something into my words which simply is not there. The argument generally goes that to identify as gay is to identify with sin, and this would be compelling were it true.
This brings me to another concern with the previously published article: Anderson has written, “The conclusion I have come to is that the Bible does declare [homosexuality] as a sin, at least, the action of it.” For reasons I do not intend to lay out here but may address at a later time, I find myself in accord with Anderson’s position that homosexual acts are morally impermissible, as is affirmed by Scripture and Christian tradition. The phrase I take issue with in this sentence is “at least”. Even the implication that mere attraction could be sinful is alarming to me. I personally did not choose to have a heart which inclines itself always towards members of the same sex, or if I did, I am not aware of it. I find it far from the God I know, the God of justice and mercy, to hold against me among my sins—which are many—this thing which I did not choose. Beyond this, the notion that every gay person is inherently and perpetually guilty of sin on account of their attractions breeds suspicion in the hearts of well-meaning straight Christians and further alienates us from the church communities which for us, as for all Christians, are a lifeline. It is also a source of despair for the gay Christian who desires earnestly, because he has been taught that his attraction itself constitutes sin, to free himself of what he perceives as his affliction, but finds himself helpless against it. To say that efforts to change sexual orientation are ineffective and damaging is not, as some Christians argue, to deny the power of God; it is to understand His revelation of Himself through science. I do not think that God lacks the power to change my heart; He has indeed changed my heart many times, and my attractions have remained unchanged each time, and so I am compelled to believe that the God of providence allows me to remain this way for my good, for the good of others, or for His glory.
When I say that I am gay, I am not giving any indication of my actions or my attitudes towards being so. I am simply communicating my experience in the most succinct way available to me. I find it silly when people express that they would prefer I say that I am same-sex attracted; to me, the two are quite interchangeable, and if it is because they are concerned that I am identifying with something besides Christ, it should be the presence of the copula in that sentence that bothers them, not whatever follows it. Further, to say that I am gay means both that I experience attraction to members of the same sex and that I do not experience attraction to the opposite sex, and so with one syllable it manages to be much more expressive than its unwieldy counterpart, “same-sex attracted.” This is critical when I want someone to understand my experience as a gay Christian. An individual can experience same-sex attractions without this necessarily presenting an obstacle to Christian marriage for him, provided that he is also attracted to the opposite sex. For me, it is not the presence of same-sex attractions but the absence of opposite-sex ones which has been the most alienating aspect of this experience, and it is the combination of these two things which in the past has brought me to question my place in the Church and in the heart of God. When I say that I am gay, it is because it is the clearest articulation of something which has deeply influenced my experience of God and His Church.
All of this brings me to comment upon a recurring phenomenon I have witnessed in the Church. When conservative Christians who hold to a traditional sexual ethic wish to address the LGBTQ+ community, they often begin by telling us that being gay is bad. Sometimes this is done with self-righteous anger; sometimes it is done almost apologetically. Most of the time, they seem to care a great deal that what we may or may not be doing is bad for them, for our society, for the children; rarely do they seem to care that it is bad for us, although they indeed proclaim it to be bad for us. On this point I commend Mr. Anderson, because he does seem to touch on the effect sin has on a soul. However, I would have liked to see it taken a step further. If we accept that homosexuality is bad for us, what is its remedy? He proposes that replacing gay identity with Christian identity is the answer, but as I argued earlier, gay identity does not seem to be the problem. Sin occurs when we lend our will to disordered desires and act upon them, and sinful actions must be counteracted through the practice of virtue.
Christians are often too reticent when it comes to telling gay people that we are called to chastity—perhaps it is because it would mean that they would have to reckon with their own unchastity; perhaps it is because they believe that for the gay Christian, chastity looks like perpetual singleness, and they themselves would not be willing to accept this were it thrust upon them. Alternatively, they may be all too willing to make a smug proclamation that we are called to be single without considering the real pain and grief experienced by the gay Christian who remains faithful to his conscience and abstains from relationships. Neither of these approaches reflects the fullness of the gospel truth. If in our efforts to evangelize we lead with condemnation, we give central focus to rules and restrictions rather than to the freedom we have gained through the salvific work of Jesus Christ. If we believe that the gospel is good news, we must believe that it is good news for LGBTQ+ people. We must believe that the call to chastity is good news for gay Christians, and we must believe that our loving Jesus who hung upon the cross for them will help them to bear their own crosses. We must also have patience with our brothers and sisters just as our God has patience with us when we sin.
In 2014, Pope Francis issued a document on “the pastoral challenges of the family in the context of evangelization.” Its insights into evangelizing those from broken families are, I think, equally applicable here:
“In accordance with Christ’s mercy, the Church must accompany with attention and care the weakest of her children, who show signs of a wounded and troubled love, by restoring in them hope and confidence, like the beacon of a lighthouse in a port or a torch carried among the people to enlighten those who have lost their way or who are in the midst of a storm. Conscious that the most merciful thing is to tell the truth in love, we go beyond compassion. Merciful love, as it attracts and unites, transforms and elevates.”1
I believe that all of us have, at one point, shown signs of a wounded and troubled love, although this is not to deny that the symptoms may be more acute in some. From this, though, we see that if we are to reach the hearts of LGBTQ+ people who are living apart from Christ, we will not do it through condemnation, but through steadfast love and joyful witness, shining a light to guide them home.
This love, as is written, must go beyond compassion. It cannot be mere pity or sympathy, and it can have no ulterior motive, as this will be felt and resented. It must be a true desire that its object would experience the fullness of love and the goodness of God, and, as is written in Scripture, our love can only come about as a response to God’s love of us. May we always lead with love and trust that Love will guide us, and may we never cease to be transformed and elevated by the good news of the gospel.
Work Cited
Relatio Synodi - “Pastoral Challenges to the Family in the Context of Evangelization” (18 October 2014). https://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/synod/documents/rc_synod_doc_20141018_relatio-synodi-familia_en.html. Accessed 22 Feb. 2026.
1I have substituted the word “troubled” from the translation of this quote which appears in the later document Amoris Laetitia; the original quote speaks of those “who show signs of a wounded and lost love”.