This summer I found out that one of my best friends is gay. If I had ever imagined this scenario, I would have pictured him sitting me down, perhaps over coffee, and breaking the news privately. Perhaps he would have cried, or trembled while relating to me the grueling and terrifying experience of accepting his sexual identity in a conservative Christian environment. Perhaps he would have rehearsed what he was going to say, or maybe he would have no words at all except something to the effect of “This is who I am, and I can’t possibly hide it any longer.” In either case, I would have been sure to hear it straight from my friend himself.
Instead, I learned of my friend’s sexual orientation through a Facebook status. There were no tears or private, vaguely suspicious meetings. Just a Facebook blast after he had come out privately to friends and family... But not to me. And I know why.
At first, I was tempted to take the omission personally. But when he said he was terrified I would be upset if he told me, I realized that my membership in a particular group was what made our never-realized meeting so impossible. I remembered another close friend from high school, who had moved out of the state, avoiding me when she visited home because she had come out as a lesbian, and no matter how close our friendship had been, I was still a Christian.
I once heard someone say that if the Church were to keep silent—completely silent— for the next fifty years on the issue of homosexuality, the world would still know our general stance. We have beat the issue into the ground, and into the heads and hearts of countless people in our pulpits. We have plastered our opinions on billboards, and t-shirts, and picket signs. We’ve been at times painfully intentional in turning our backs, and closing the circle of our communities with tightly clenched fists, keeping out those who violate what seems to be our number one rule. We have made quite sure that any moral, religious, philosophical, or logic-driven arguments Christians may have against homosexuality will never be forgotten. And the goal has been reached. We’ve done what we set out to do. The rejection felt by those in the LGBT community from the Church I am sure will never, ever be forgotten.
It didn’t matter that I had never voiced a negative opinion about homosexuality to my friend. I hadn’t used Scripture to justify hate or prejudice, and I had definitely never made a picket sign that says “Fags go to hell.” If I had never so much as even mentioned the issue, it still would not have mattered, because I am part of a group that is seen by those in my community and across the country as uncompromisingly against homosexuals. No more of this “Hate the sin, love the sinner” crap. Our actions and attitudes have historically communicated nothing short of hate toward the LGBT community, and that is something we need to be honest about. I wish that it was enough to simply stay quiet and try not to say anything “offensive.” But in order to make our friends and family feel welcomed in our churches, we must do much more than that. Our hospitality toward the LGBT community requires communion and solidarity.
I am an ally of the LGBT community because I don’t want another person to stay silent because of me. I am an ally because hate has driven our friends, brothers, sisters, and children away from us. I am an ally because Jesus Christ has welcomed me, and I believe the Church can love better than this. I am an ally because of my friend.
-Sarah Sanders '11
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