ViaMedia

Category: LGBT Stories

  • Evangelical Alliance: “Loving & Orthodox” or “Damaging & Dangerous”?

    by Jayne Ozanne, Editor Director of ViaMedia.News, Member of General Synod and Chair of the Ban Conversion Therapy Coalition
    Last week the campaign to ban conversion therapy was given a significant boost by a letter to the Secretary of State from hundreds of Christian leaders stating clearly that they believed their “Christian duty” was to continue to conduct harmful conversion practices.

    It was just the proof needed to show a sceptical public that the modern-day threat of conversion practices is real and that, even more worryingly, there is absolutely no recognition or remorse for the harm that they have caused countless LGBT+ people.

    If ever the government needed evidence of why they must urgently introduce legislation to protect LGBT+ people, they now have it in spades.  It seems that no amount of reasoned argument, academic or medical opinion, research evidence or the harrowing testimonies of survivors has caused them to stop and reflect on the damage that they’ve done and continue to do.

    Concerns had already been raised by politicians following two evidence sessions, one in Edinburgh and the other in Westminster, both involving senior figures from the Evangelical Alliance.  Indeed, one Scottish Labour politician, Pam Duncan-Glancy MSP commented on Twitter after hearing evidence at the Scottish Equalities, Human Rights and Civil Justice Committee: “I honestly could hardly believe my ears this morning.  I am more convinced than ever* that we need to end all conversion practises, and fast. (*My views that it should end were already very strongly held).” 

    Interestingly, in their letter to the Secretary of State, the Christian Leaders, the vast majority of whom are evangelical, made three claims which need public and firm rebuttal:

    Firstly, they boldly claim that they “act in love” and “never with any coercion or control”.  Have they learnt nothing from the sexual abuse scandals that have riddled their evangelical churches?  Have they not seen the level of coercion and control that exists in their communities?!  It is something that the rest of the world can and does see, that is now well evidenced in various research reports, but it is fascinating and telling that they seem to be so determined not to acknowledge it.

    Secondly, they use the term “orthodox” as if it were a brand label that they alone can claim. Not only is this arrogant, as it fails to recognise the millions of faithful Christians around the world who disagree with them, but it is also wrong.  True Christian orthodoxy is that which proclaims a gospel of God’s unconditional love for all.  Period.  No exceptions, no caveats, no exclusive clubs.  It is never about what we do or who we are, but everything about what Christ has done and who He is!

    Thirdly, it is ludicrous to suggest that a Christian’s ability “to proclaim the Lordship of Jesus Christ and calling people to find life in him” will be impacted by this legislation.  The only practices that are to be banned are those that seek to change, ‘cure’ or suppress a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity.  To claim otherwise is to bear false witness and to prey on people’s fears.

    Perhaps I should not be surprised by their imperviousness to the truth about the harm they cause, nor their defiance in saying they will continue “to do their duty to God” at the risk of being criminalised.  Jesus encountered exactly the same spirit amongst the religious leaders of His day.  Indeed, He had a lot to say to them about this type of person – most notably in Matthew 23:

    “They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.”

    before then going on to say:

    “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces.  You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to.”

    Harsh words yes; but I genuinely believe they are true.  This is indeed, in my mind, a Gospel issue.  This self-dramatising and intransigent attitude cripples and hampers the sharing of the Gospel – both amongst LGBT+ people, who have so often been rejected and hurt by the Church, as well as amongst a nation who want nothing to do with a religion that they see as hypocritical and unloving in the extreme.

    You see just because you say a prayer in a quiet and religious voice does not mean it is loving.  Nor does rebranding a harmful practice as “prayer” make it any the less harmful.  

    It is precisely because these Christian leaders think that what they do is both loving and acceptable that we need this legislation in the first place.  A truly loving approach would be to listen with an open heart to the cries of those who they have harmed, and to ask for their forgiveness.

    Hardheartedness is one of the many traits that made Jesus very angry, and it is what he claimed made them unable to see the truth about the various pastoral situations that he himself was constantly speaking in to.

    Now the opposite of hardheartedness is, I believe, humility.  It is a spirit that requires an openness both to what the Holy Spirit is saying and to admitting that we might have got things wrong.  It is this humility that has led the Church to recognise and repent of the sins of racism, or of poor stewardship of the earth, or of our treatment of women and now, I believe, of its false teachings about those of us who reflect the diversity of God’s creation in our sexuality and gender identity.

    So, as we draw towards the end of the year and move into a time of celebration for the Gift of the Christ child who dwelt in flesh amongst us, I prayer that the eyes of these evangelical leaders’ hearts might be opened and that the Holy Spirit will call them to repent for the damage that they do and the danger that they pose to LGBT+ people, who are created and loved by that very same God, of that very same flesh.

     

  • The Thorny Question of Desire!

    by Jeremy Marks, Founder of Post-Courage and Winner of the Colin Blakely Lifetime Achievement Award 

    To the woman [the LORD] said,
    “. . . in pain you shall bring forth children,
    yet your desire shall be for your husband . . .”    Genesis 3:16 (RSV)

    In our modern world, this famous verse is hard to read and accept as a word from God! My reason for quoting this is not to expound the verse but merely to point out that in one of the most well-known stories of the Bible – about the man and the woman in the Garden of Eden – the reality of God-given sexual desire is described in a very vivid and powerful way.

    Never have I heard a sermon about this that does anything more than point out the “sin” that led to God’s judgement and “curse” on the man and woman. Therefore, we ought to “fear God more . . .”   One is left with the impression that desire, especially sexual desire (but it could be for money or power too) is like a caged tiger, that if allowed to escape will cause mayhem and death. Whatever we do we must contain that desire with the greatest self-discipline.

    We are left to assume that this is more or less the sum of Christian teaching about desire.

    Which can lead to great tragedy, as I have discovered in my life and ministry.

    At the Ozanne Foundation Inaugural Dinner & Awards held at the Houses of Parliament last week, where I had the privileged opportunity to share my story, I explained that in spite of being a gay man, I had been brought up to believe one cannot be gay and Christian. I had therefore entered a quasi-heterosexual marriage with a courageous woman because we both believed that marriage, first and foremost, was given by God for companionship, not primarily for sex.  Indeed, like many in our position  we thought that sex was optional anyway. After 21 difficult years, during which my wife says she felt like a “non-person” we separated.  We remain the best of friends fortunately.  But when my former wife subsequently met a heterosexual man who loves women, it did not take long before she discovered what she had been missing all that time! And that missing piece of the jigsaw, that had been such a grievous omission in our marriage, had an absolutely transforming effect. Every relationship brings challenges. But sex, it seems, is one of the most beautiful gifts from God; an amazing “glue” that helps to smooth out many problems and tensions.

    In my pastoral experience, I have met many sad, frustrated women who married gay men. Often those men seemed perfect gentlemen – thoughtful, considerate, appreciative, gentle, not sexually demanding, not having a roving eye for other women.  Almost perfect in every way. Except for something undefinable that the wife just could not put her finger on. In spite of every effort to be attractive to her husband, there was no response. Then at some point she discovered that her husband is gay, so of course he was never going to be interested in her that way, ever!  The rage, bewilderment, sense of being cheated and betrayed, the loss and shame, became overwhelming for her.  “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” William Congreve observed. Maybe he was gay, to have expressed that so eloquently?

    With all my heart I feel such sorrow for those women.  A few manage to get over it, but many do not. This can be an absolutely life-wrecking scenario.

    Why does any of this happen?  Because of the paucity of good Christian teaching on sexual desire – teaching that has been so shallow and risk averse.  The Church has done nothing to prepare us for managing well that most beautiful gift of God, designed to delight every human being who has the good fortune to find their desired partner.

    Then for the LGBTI person, the devastation at being told that we are “intrinsically disordered” (Roman Catholic teaching) or an “abomination” (a favourite word amongst Protestants) or any variation on this theme, however nuanced the expression it has the same destructive effect.

    When I met Paolo, my husband, finally I found fulfilment of the longings I had struggled with since my teenage years.  I often wonder how I had ever allowed myself to spend 40 years of my life in thrall to such mean-spirited religious hogwash?!

    There is another well-known and beautiful passage in the Psalms, “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:4 (RSV).

    The Lord has fulfilled that promise both for me and my former wife. Thanks be to God.

     

  • Advent Reflections: Seeking Justice; Showing Mercy

    by Savitri Hensman, community worker, author of “Sexuality, Struggle and Saintliness” and LGBTI+ equality activist

    Advent is a season of eagerness and patience, yearning for change whilst feeling the uneasiness about what this might mean, for us as well as others.

    We are reminded that God’s love is bound up with justice (Isaiah 11.1-4, 42.1-4). We may cry out from the depths, longing for the day when we and our loved ones will be safe, that our oppressors will be punished and that we will finally be treated with dignity – yet all of us benefit from God’s readiness to pardon (Psalm 130, Luke 6.36-38). Forgiveness and redemption are on offer but personal and collective healing can sometimes be slow and painful.

    Thanks largely to my late parents, I grew up aware that faith, care and resisting injustice are all linked. I became involved in anti-racist activism in church and society in my teens and then from the age of about twenty on sexuality – after coming out as lesbian. I had to rethink some of my own prejudices (internalised or otherwise) and am grateful for those who were willing to challenge me in non-destructive ways, always going the extra mile (Matthew 5.41).

    I learnt the importance of persuasion and persistence as well as protest and that equality might not be achieved all at once. Changing institutions that are facing multiple pressures can be a complex process. Though living in England, my connection with Sri Lanka continued and, as the situation there deteriorated horrifically, I saw even more graphically what could happen when states and armed groups wielded too much power. I joined with others in defending human rights, even for people with views starkly different from mine.

    I discovered that others were more likely to listen if they felt at least partly heard and understood and that hurt and anger, if not channelled constructively, could get in the way of achieving goals. Even in the pre-internet era, the people who were most forceful, or willing to do most damage to those seen as oppressors, often won admiration, yet their tactics could backfire in the long term.

    Over the years too, including as a community worker and volunteer, I found out more about the hazards of unintended consequences. Life seemed messier, uncertainties greater, than when I was a child. Yet there were also moments of joy and major achievements by the movements of which I was part, reflecting I hope the Holy Spirit at work despite human errors and weaknesses.

    Edging towards LGBT+ equality in the Church of England

    Over the years, it has been encouraging to see a huge shift in views amongst both theologians of various denominations and ordinary Church of England members. There is far greater acceptance of committed, physically intimate partnerships between couples of the same sex or gender and recognition of gender diversity. It is excellent that so many churches, including some in the UK, have moved forward – but highly frustrating that progress in the C of E has been so slow and fragile.

    I understand why some people might want to demand complete parity with no exceptions so that, for instance, all parishes might be required to celebrate marriage for partners regardless of gender. But groups and networks such as the (currently inactive) LGBTI Mission and Equal have taken a different approach, which allows space for freedom of conscience within reasonable limits. I believe there are good reasons for this that are both pragmatic and value-based.

    Other UK-based churches which have moved further towards full inclusion have tended to do so on the basis of respect for conscience. I suspect it would have been nearly impossible for resolutions which took a different approach to have won enough votes at decision-making bodies. Allowing local discretion is also in line with national law, which in turn reflects international expectations around freedom of belief.

    Additionally, whilst I recognise the damage which non-inclusive beliefs can do, I fear that a purge of ordained and lay ministers not yet able to embrace full equality would be even worse. I would not want leaders who have been welcoming and caring towards me booted out because they interpret the Bible in ‘traditional’ ways or are still undecided.

    But I would like to see the archbishops and more diocesan bishops publicly recognise that for those of us who are lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT)+ this is a generous stance, especially given the human cost of discrimination. And while leaders should maintain space for Christians who read Scripture and tradition differently on matters of sexuality and gender identity, favouring people who do not face discrimination and buying ‘unity’ at the cost of the excluded is in stark contrast to Jesus’ example and teaching (Mark 2.23-3.6).

    Three interconnected biblical themes often linked with Advent come to mind which might help the Church to move forward on this issue: justice as an outworking of love, equality and rejection of idolatry. Theologians have written libraries-worth of books on each of them, martyrs have sacrificed their lives: I believe it is therefore time to give these due weight in official pronouncements.

    It is unjust for people with plenty to hoard God’s generous gifts to humankind while others’ needs go unmet. This applies to both material goods (e.g. Isaiah 5.8-10, Luke 16.19-31) as well as freedom and dignity (Jeremiah 34. 8-17, James 2.1-12) – unless there are truly compelling reasons why some should be denied what others have. Many take it for granted that they can marry or be open about their gender without being prevented from being Church leaders. Those who nevertheless deny this to others should ask themselves searching questions

    And behaviour towards some people as if they were second-class Christians based on their identity (e.g. as working class, disabled, minority ethnic or LGBT+) is at odds with the radical equality of Jesus’ vision (Matthew 23:1-12, Luke 22.24-27).

    It can be tempting to treat mortals, institutions or concepts as objects of worship. Throughout history, unequal treatment of women and girls has done much damage, blatant and subtle. Yet most senior clergy seem reluctant to speak against theologies promoting male domination, which are harmful and can unintentionally foster idolatry. LGBT+ people who do not fit neatly into roles rooted in sexism are affected too.

    Such imbalances distort relationships with God and neighbour.

    Mercy is important; so is justice!

  • Ghana: “Grandma, What Big Teeth You Have….!”

    by the Ven Peter Leonard, Archdeacon of the Isle of Wight and Chair of OneBodyOneFaith

    On social media this last week I saw a light-hearted post which questioned how Little Red Riding Hood fails to recognise that a wolf has replaced her grandma in the famous fairy tale. It is a good question but not seeing or responding to the danger in front of you is not sadly restricted to fairy tales.

    The parliament of Ghana is about to discuss the “Promotion of Proper Human Sexual Rights and Ghanaian Family Values Bill” which proposes that anyone who identifies as gay or transgender face imprisonment for up to five years and anyone who promotes or supports non-straight sexual identities be sent to prison for up to 10 years. It also requires Ghanaian citizens to report so called ‘suspects’. This is potentially the toughest anti-gay legislation in the world and the House of Bishops of the Anglican Church in Ghana has issued a statement in full support of the bill stating that to be LGBTQI+ “is unbiblical and ungodly”. They further state that they will “open their counselling and support centres for the needed transformation services required by these persons” – also known as conversion therapy. You can read the full statement here.

    Despite the media coverage of this statement neither of our English archbishops nor any bishop in the Church of England has said anything about the Ghanaian bishops’ actions. It is as if they have their red hoods pulled down and are still choosing to see grandma rather than a wolf. Although it is interesting how quick they are to respond when an Anglican province makes a more progressive statement about the LGBTQI+ community isn’t it?!

    I am particularly impacted by this statement because I serve in the Diocese of Portsmouth, which as part of the Inter Diocesan West Africa Link scheme is partnered with the Anglican Church in Ghana. Portsmouth has a long history of supporting the church in Ghana financially, in prayer and through mutual visits. The diocese is due to be hosting the Ghanaian bishops and their wives in the run up to the Lambeth conference next year. I have been aware of their anti-LGBTQI+ stance for some time and that has been problematic for me as a civil partnered gay man and for others.

    But this new step presents me, and many other ordained and lay members of Portsmouth Diocese with a challenge. I am already being contacted by people asking what they can do. I know of churches who are withdrawing their financial support immediately and asking for action in terms of a statement from the Diocese of Portsmouth and more direct steps when the Ghanaian bishops visit. What form that action could take is uncertain – is it more effective to refuse to host them or to challenge them and protest when they are here?

    One of the joys of being within the Diocese of Portsmouth is that it has felt a relatively “safe” place to be an openly gay member of the clergy and there are many churches which are fully inclusive of LGBTQI+ Christians. To invite the Ghanaian bishops into that safe place makes it considerably less safe, not only for those of us who work for the diocese but also for those members of the church, clinging on by their fingertips, who will see welcoming them here as a statement of support for what they have said.

    For anyone outside of the church who sees the diocese welcoming the Ghanaian bishops also places us squarely in support of them. The only way to address this is a clear and unequivocal statement condemning the bill and their support of it.

    To be clear, this is not about whether you support equal marriage, this is not about whether or not you think LGBTQI+ people can be part of the church. This is about that fact that LGBTQI+ people, or even those who are suspected of being LGBTQI+ will be locked up. If I were in Ghana I would be in prison as would my partner and many other people I know, or we would be being subjected to the tortures of so-called “conversion therapy” which even the UN has now condemned. Members of my family and friends would also be locked up for supporting me. Worse still it will result in people being hunted down in Ghana, beaten, and potentially killed. This is not an issue of culture or of different biblical interpretations – this is a matter of life and death for some. This is not the fabled “Good Disagreement” that is so often spoken of, but little seen, this is not a matter for “Pastoral Principles” however good they may be on paper.

    This is homophobia. This is oppression. This is injustice and it is the absolute opposite of how Christ lived and what he taught.

    I have said before, and it is a great sadness that it remains true within the Church of England, an apology with no action to change the behaviour is meaningless. The Archbishops and the House of Bishops can make as many apologies for the way the Church of England has treated the LGBTQI+ community, they can set up as many shared conversations and LLF type programmes as it likes but until something changes these are meaningless. Their silence in the face of such blatant homophobia and abuse of human rights puts them on the side of the oppressor.

    It is time to call out the wolf and stop pretending we are still looking at grandma.

     

  • LGBT Stories – Can Conservative Evangelical Churches Ever Change?

    by Anne Dannerolle, Church Minister of Hull Community Church (soon to become Oasis Church Hull) and East Yorks Regional Ambassador for Inclusive Church

    The day I stood up to tell our church congregation in Hull that we were opting in for same-sex weddings, back in 2018, I felt a mixture of thankfulness and dread. I had a picture of my head above a parapet and wondered if it would be shot down in flames, and if my brief stint as church minister was about to come to an end. Was I about to split the church, and what would happen next?

    Hull Community Church had once been a very typical conservative evangelical church in the 1990s. One of the ‘new’ style churches it appeared informal, fun and exciting. There was certainly a buzz about the place when I arrived as a student, with a newfound faith and desire to get stuck into a local church. There was a great sense of family and community, but underneath the modern appearance, there were also deeply held conservative views and a purity culture to follow. But in the late 1990s, a number of community projects grew out of the church, and with these came a change in thinking. The church grew less conservative in its views, and more open and loving and accepting.

    In 2015, I was asked to become the church minister, after having headed up the community work of the church for 10 years. But I was becoming increasingly torn about being silently affirming instead of openly vocal about my support for the LGBT+ community. Like many church ministers I stuck my head in the sand and pretended that by staying neutral, I could serve and love everyone. I remember reading the words of Desmund Tutu and being haunted by the truth of them, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality”.

    In the summer of 2017, I felt that God was kicking me off the fence, and asking me to stand up and be honest. Not long afterwards, Lucy Gorman from the local LGBT Christian Fellowship asked if we would host Steve Chalke at the church for him to share his story about inclusion – we were the only church in Hull willing to have him speak, with a big enough room to meet in. That took us on an eight month journey of conversations with the church and bringing people’s stories into the light. We encouraged the church to read widely, and listen and talk respectfully together. While Biblical interpretations did have an importance, in truth it was people’s stories that made the real difference. Seeing God at work challenged people’s preconceived ideas and led to deeper relationships and understanding.

    And then came the day. As an independent church, the decision was ours to make. The trustees and leadership team agreed that the church would opt in for same-sex weddings and become fully and openly inclusive. And it was time for me to stand up and deliver the news. If you’re interested, you can take a listen to the talk I gave.

    Listening back now does make me cringe. Some of my language and understanding still had a way to go, and you can hear the nervousness in my voice. But it was a key moment in our journey, and unforgettable for me.

    Afterwards, two people came to tell me they were leaving the church, which was a moment of real sadness, but the church did not split. The most memorable conversation though was with a young woman who came to tell me that she was gay. She said it was the first time she had felt safe to say that aloud in a church. The thing was, this young woman had been in my home, babysat my kids, walked my dog, eaten meals together, and been part of the family. Why hadn’t she felt safe to tell me before? Why didn’t she know I would have loved her?

    It brought home to me in the starkest possible way that even though I believed I was loving, inclusive and safe, I wasn’t. Being silently affirming was simply not good enough. Not for a group of people who had suffered so much at the hands of organised religion. I needed to be bold enough to speak aloud words of affirmation and support. Love looks like being valued, affirmed and celebrated, not just accepted and tolerated.

    Since then I have heard hundreds of heart-breaking stories, and I now believe that the most important work of my life has been to take the church to a place of being openly and vocally inclusive. I know I have a long way to go, and this is not the end of the journey.

    This week, we will be announcing to our church congregation that we are joining the Oasis Church network. We have been in conversation for a while with the church, so they know it’s coming. We will no longer be Hull Community Church, but Oasis Church Hull. We’re proud to become part of a church network that is fully inclusive in every way. This is  embedding irreversible change into the church, meaning that we can never go back to being a conservative evangelical church, no matter what. It gives a safety net by being part of something bigger, and we’re excited about this new step.

    Sometimes change in church feels like an impossible mountain to climb. But Steve Chalke said when he came to Hull in 2017 that it’s like a slow tide. There’s only one way it’s coming in, and it isn’t going away. Change is coming, slowly, too slowly, but I live in hope that in my lifetime our LGBT community will be valued and celebrated in every way in our churches. I can only say that I am sorry we didn’t vocalise it sooner.

    And thank you for not giving up on church. We need you, more than we know. Without everyone being a part, we are not whole. Only when include, love, affirm and celebrate every human being in our midst will we see God’s kingdom come alive here on earth.

  • LGBT+ Stories – The Trauma of Abusive “Healing” Ministries

    by the Revd Canon Timothy Goode, Rector of St Margaret’s, Lee, Disability Adviser to the Diocese of Southwark, Member of Archbishop’s Council and Co-Chair of MOSAIC

    Yet you have made them a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honour.’ (Psalm 8 verse 5)

    My relationship with the Church of England has always been a complex one, built as much on a vision of what the Church of England could aspire to be, as much as to what the Church of England presently is, or was in the past.

    As someone who passionately wishes for the full participation of the LGBTI+ community within the church, as I do for all who are marginalised by the church, I was deeply moved by the recent testimonies on Via Media, from those who have been on the receiving end of conversion therapy and who so generously shared their appalling experiences at the hands of a church that purports to articulate the immeasurable love of God for them.

    However, I was caught utterly on the back foot, when I found, whilst reading the testimonies, that my acknowledged feelings of solidarity and empathy swung uncontrollably into what felt like deeply unchartered territory, as I found myself sobbing; not tears that well up when one hears of injustice or when one feels righteous anger, but sobs of unprocessed pain and suffering.

    It felt like a scab was being brutally torn off revealing a deep wound underneath, which was crying out to be acknowledged and engaged with.  I initially felt shame and deep guilt that these testimonies had unearthed such suppressed feelings of confusion, embarrassment, diminishment and hurt.

    But reflecting on my response now, I feel immense gratitude to those who shared their shocking testimonies of conversion therapy, as they also unearthed the as yet unprocessed suffering that I had experienced when on the receiving end of abusive unconsented forms of ‘healing’. These had taken many forms and contexts, but all had involved the use of physical restraint and a need for my collusion. My unwillingness to play ball had on each occasion been met with projected responses of anger and rejection; so that my inability to walk unaided became my fault, put down to my lack of engagement and my lack of faith.

    I thought I had worked through these abusive experiences so that they no longer had a hold on me. Reading these testimonies revealed that, despite the support that I have received, these experiences still have the power to resurface and catch me unawares.

    I don’t want to equate my own experience of abusive ‘healing’ ministry as a disabled person with the harrowing conversion therapy experienced by the LGBTI+ community. However, each experience matters, and each experience matters before God.

    Both practices invite us to explore how it is that we as Christians can still equate a loving compassionate God with the shocking outcomes of these practices; how the reasons and means of conversion therapy can ever justify ‘the fruits’ of our actions. For it is the very fruits of these actions – the diminishing, the suffering, the pain, the anger, the rejection – that have led me to conclude that the theology that underpins it is deeply flawed and profoundly unhealthy.

    St Matthew states that ‘a good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit.’ (Matthew 7.18) If conversion therapy and abusive ‘healing’ causes such bad fruit, as we read in these shocking testimonies, then St Matthew’s metaphor should cause us to question both the action and the theology that underpins and motivates such an action.

    Maybe the time is right to join with what feminist theologians have been doing for decades, and critically explore and re-evaluate the biblical writers’ assumptions and unconscious biases. For example, when we read the bible through the perceptive and lived experience of disability, we may notice the biblical writers use of impairments as metaphors for sin, doubt, and unbelief, which in turn point to an understanding of perfection that is rooted more in Plato and Aristotle than the Body of Christ.

    This does not sit comfortably with the risen body of Jesus Christ, a physical body that is healed but not cured, whose open wounds are a visceral and vital part of the resurrected body, drawing us into Christ’s fullest humanity. Maybe through the risen body we are being encouraged to acknowledge, own, and ultimately love and celebrate our God given diversity.

    Candida Moss, the Edward Cadbury Professor of Theology at the University of Birmingham, writes that disabled people are often used by the Gospel writers to beef up Jesus’ credentials, showcasing his divine powers.

    “When Jesus meets people with disabilities, he fixes them and that’s a sign that he is powerful,” she says. “That relegates people with disabilities to just being there to show the power of God. They’re not really real characters or real people who have feelings and needs and personalities. That pushes them to the margins of the story.”

    All groups, whether it be LGBTI+, race, disability, gender, neurodiversity, to name but five, who continue to be viewed and treated as ‘less than’ by sections of the church, find that they are being consistently pushed to the margins of the story; and yet it is in the very margins of the story that Jesus so often to be is found.

    We therefore should not be surprised that the graceful embrace of the sacrificial ministry of all who have shared their experiences of conversion therapy have reached far beyond the LGBTI+ community. Their brave and harrowing testimonies have opened the door for other marginalised groups to share their stories of abuse and diminishment, offering the possibility of true healing and hope to so many, including myself, who have suffered abusive ‘healing’ ministries within the church; drawing us all towards the ultimate truth, that we are each loved, that we are each unique and precious in God’s sight, that we are each fearfully and wonderfully made.

    As the psalmist sings:

    ‘…what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them? Yet you have made them a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honour.’ (Psalm 8. Verses, 4-5)

  • LGBT Stories: It’s Time for Action!

    by the Revd Canon Simon Butler, Prolocutor for the Province of Canterbury and Vicar of St Mary’s, Battersea

    As I write, we are preparing to meet at General Synod for the last time before the elections this summer. Everyone is acutely aware that, among the ‘to do’ items for the incoming General Synod in November, will be the “what next” for the Living in Love & Faith Project. Across the church, people will be preparing to stand and vote with their view about how far the Church should go in respect of its inclusion of LGBTI+ people.

    Like many readers of this blog, I have read the distressing and harrowing stories provided by numerous contributors in the past few weeks. Because of my national role, I get approached by individuals with similar stories of pain, rejection and cruelty at the hands of other Christians. These sources of information convince me that, whatever else may or may not change in the coming years, we must take to heart the words of Bishop Sarah from this week’s earlier blog and address the issues of coercion, secrecy, harm and control. If we don’t, the Church of England will continue to be perceived as being on the side of abuse and maltreatment, rather than with the Lord who brings good news to the poor and comforts the broken-hearted.

    So far, so good. But this article is aimed directly at those of you who read these articles, nod in agreement, share them on Facebook, and think that is enough. To the keyboard warriors out there, it’s time to act.

    This Tuesday past I was able to see the first two episodes of a fascinating documentary series on BBC4 called Philly D.A. In 2017, Larry Krasner, a progressive, reforming human rights lawyer, managed to get himself elected to the most powerful offices in the City of Philadelphia, the District Attorney, responsible for prosecutions in one of the most divided, crime-ridden cities in the US. Since then he has set about dismantling a system that, while seeking to protect the public by sending more and more people to prison, at the same time caused immense suffering for the most marginalised communities, mainly poor, young black people. Having spent a career on one side of the court room, defending people, he realised it was time to try and change the system by getting himself elected. Taking on vested interests, including some extremely wise, sensible people who had been moulded by the system and worn down by ‘the way things are’ into accepting its culture of casual cruelty, he has found himself with the power and ability to start again. It will prove fascinating to see how things turn out in the remaining episodes.

    Some of us who have been battling on, seeking to change the culture of the Church of England, feel worn down by it. Maybe we have become a little too comfortable in accepting that ‘the way things are’ is acceptable, or explainable. What we need, at least those of us who feel that the Church of England still has a future in being a vessel for the good news of Jesus Christ, is some more Larry Krasners, some more people fired by righteous anger, a new infusion of energy from those who are not yet worn down. We need people to serve on General Synod who are committed to changing the status quo, and all the negative cultural things that Bishop Sarah mentions, which prevent everyone who wants to belong to our church from flourishing, including I would want to say those who are conservative on sexuality matters.

    There will of course be others who will be invested in keeping things the way they are. They are extremely well-motivated to stand and serve our church on General Synod. But, without people who want to change the church standing for election to in the coming weeks, it is almost inevitable that things will remain the same, including the likelihood of yet more fudge emerging from Living in Love & Faith.

    For what it’s worth, despite the persistent cynics, I think the emerging vision for the Church of England – Simpler, Humbler, Bolder – offers a real chance for culture change. I know that we now have two Archbishops who long for it. But they, and all of us seeking re-election for Synod, need allies to encourage them and critics to hold their feet to the fire.

    As Krasner himself says, “Ultimately if you never break down the wall, you may have to go through the door, because there’s stuff going on on the inside that is hard to fix from the outside.”

    Stand for General Synod: we need you on the inside!

    If  you would like more information about how to stand for General Synod in your Diocese, please visit www.inclusivesynod or email synod@inclusive-church.org 

  • LGBT Stories: “Texts of Terror” – Are We Helping or Harming?

    by the Rt Revd Dame Sarah Mullally, Bishop of London and Chair of the LLF Next Steps Group

    The series of testimonies of LGBT Christians that can be found here are texts of terror.

    Vilified, self-condemnation, disgust, self-hatred, abominable, humiliated, contaminated, awful, worthless, lonely, suicidal. These are some of the words that are used to describe the impact of the behaviours of others on these courageous LGBT people who have shared their stories.

    They are texts of terror because of the unimaginable harm done and because these ‘others’ are Christians, believing to be acting in good faith.

    They are texts of terror that people, like myself, who have never had such experiences, need to read and take to heart. They are texts that call us to examine ourselves and the undercurrents of all our actions.

    Coercion or Compassion?

    One of the remarkable things about Jesus was that there was never even a hint of coercion in his teaching or actions. When two blind men sitting by the roadside shouted to Jesus for mercy, he asked them, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ (Matthew 20.32).

    That isn’t to say that Jesus didn’t teach. There are plenty of imperatives in the Sermon on the Mount, for example. Jesus gave the rich young ruler a clear challenge to sell all he had, give the proceeds to the poor and follow him. But he didn’t run after the man when he chose to walk away. Instead, he loved him.

    Jesus, of all people, knew how good the good news he had to share was. But this good news was offered, not forced. People were invited, not compelled. As David Walker writes, ‘love that is forced or coerced is not love at all.’

    Secrecy or Openness?

    So many of the stories speak of secrecy. Either the claustrophobic secrecy of hiding one’s own identity or sexuality. Or the secrecy within which victims were subjected to horrific coercive actions and words.

    Jesus led a public and exposed life. The only times, it seems, that he was ‘in secret’ was when he was alone with the Father in prayer.

    We are called to be people of the light, not of the darkness. This means being people who live openly, transparently. ‘Therefore, whatever you have said in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have whispered behind closed doors will be proclaimed from the housetops.’ (Luke 12.3)

    Secrecy should ring warning bells. Why are we keeping a secret? What are we afraid of? What does it say about the community of which I am a part?

    Harm or Help?

    The mental, emotional, spiritual and even physical harm that is described in the stories is shocking. There can be no justification for acts that bring about harm. Jesus came to heal, restore and make whole. He released people from the captivity of mental and physical illness and spiritual oppression.

    Actions that cause harm must not be confused with the call to ‘deny ourselves, take up the cross and follow Jesus.’ Yes, we are called in different ways to share in the sufferings of Christ, but never to impose that suffering on others.

    As Christians we are called to liberate others – liberating people to live into the fullness of a life that can only be fully found by following Jesus.

    If our actions, however well-meaning, cause harm – distress, emotional, mental or spiritual anguish – we need to think again.

    Control or Trust?

    So how is it that we are tempted to behaviours that cause harm, that require secrecy and involve coercion? I wonder if they point to a need to ‘control’ – a control that holds up a mirror to our lack of faith in a God who is active and present in the life of every believer. A God who accepts, loves and seeks to save every one of us. A God who has promised, by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, to change each one of us from one degree of glory to another – that glory that is perfectly embodied in Jesus. That glory that is full of grace and truth.

    These stories call us to ask for greater faith – a faith that releases us to be compassionate not coercive, open not secretive, helping not harming, entrusting those in our care to the God who is already at work in us all and has promised to bring that work to completion.

     

     

  • Trigger Warning!

    by the Venerable Peter Leonard, Archdeacon of the Isle of Wight and Chair of OneBodyOneFaith

    Have you noticed how often this warning appears on social media posts or blogs in recent years? A friendly statement that there may be material which can ignite a past issue or make an old wound start hurting again. I am relatively tough and generally don’t pay much attention to these, partly because I assumed I haven’t experienced some of the things which far too many of my LGBTQ+ siblings have.

    I have been reading the Via Media posts on conversion therapy and have experienced the horror and revulsion that many of you will have at how the church has abused so many for so long. I shared one of these, ‘Peter’s Story’, on Facebook. Within a very short space of time, I received lots of comments from friends offering support and care because I had gone through such an awful experience. I realised with horror (and emotion that people were so caring) that people assumed the Peter referred to was me! I quickly responded that it wasn’t my story but, in the end, took the post down to stop any further confusion. It was then that a cold realisation crept over me, and I went back and re-read Peter’s story.

    It was not my story, but it wasn’t that different to my story. I didn’t believe I had gone through any form of “conversion therapy”, even though I grew up and spent many years in churches where I regularly heard that being gay meant you would burn in hell, that you were dirty, evil and perverted and God hated you. I knew I was gay but couldn’t accept it so sought help and was offered prayer ministry in a couple of different settings. People commanded demons to leave me but of course nothing changed, except I developed a deep self-loathing of myself and who I was. A legacy of emotional and spiritual damage which into my fifties I am still working through. This prayer ministry was not a consistent experience of course, it was a few isolated incidents between the ages of about 15 and 27, but what was consistent throughout that time were the prayers I said, no pleaded, for myself on my own because I thought I had to. The prayer ministry I sought to do to myself to get rid of the homosexual thoughts and urges and make myself straight. The conversion therapy I sought to exercise on myself because I believed I had no other choice if I wanted to be accepted, loved and fulfil the calling to ordained ministry which I had.

    The evil of conversion therapy comes in many different forms.

    Prayer which is offered seeking to change someone’s sexuality is conversion therapy. It is damaging and it is abusive. The fact that I continued to try this prayer for myself because I believed I had to doesn’t make it less abusive or less damaging. It is a direct result of the teaching and the homophobia I experienced within the Church of England. I have always assumed I had not undergone conversion therapy – I was wrong – I have but it was dressed up as prayer and the abusive atmosphere I found myself in forced me to continue to hurt myself even when the perpetrators had ceased to actively hurt me themselves.

    I am currently working with a counsellor and the legacy of shame and damage which this experience has left me with forms a significant part of that work. I hadn’t realised the extent to which it has impacted me because at the time I chose to do it. I wasn’t coerced into it other than the fact that I thought I had no choice if my family, my friends, my church and indeed God were going to accept me, if I wasn’t going to become an outcast. I, and many others in my position, were and are sadly still presented with a twisted version of the gospel. There are too many places where lives are still being damaged and where the name Jesus Christ is used as judgement, condemnation and for psychological harm instead of for love, acceptance, and freedom to be the people God created us to be. There are too many people who still need trigger warnings.

    Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love your neighbour as you love yourself. We celebrate a God who exists in Trinity, and we are called to trinitarian relationships. Called to love God by being the people God created us to be, called to love others by offering them our authentic selves and called to love ourselves by accepting and nurturing who we are, including our sexuality. It is only then that we are living as Jesus commanded us to live.

    Anything done to try and change someone’s sexuality, including prayer, is conversion therapy. It is abuse and needs to end now. It is without doubt another serious and significant safeguarding issue for the church and any and every time I discover it going on I will report it to the diocesan safeguarding team, and I would encourage anyone else to do the same. It has no place in the church and is contrary to the gospel of love we have in Jesus Christ.

    Thank you to those of you who have shared your stories on here or in the press. Thank you to those of you who are campaigning hard to ensure that ALL forms of conversion therapy are banned. We know that all of this comes at a personal cost, and we are grateful.

    If like me you are finding the conversation about conversion therapy, which includes abuse masquerading as “prayer ministry”, triggering let me share how I am coping:

    1. I’m talking about it – to God in prayer, to a counsellor and to trusted friends. OneBodyOneFaith of which I am Chair is currently working with the Ozanne Foundation to pull together a list of counsellors/therapists who can offer help and support to LGBT+ Christians. Look out for this resource or please be in touch if you can help.
    2. I’m campaigning and calling for this evil practice to be banned.
    3. I’m listening to myself and taking a break from it when I need to.
    4. I’m doing my best to love myself and in doing so to love God and love others.

    The Psalmist says that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made” – we are also “queerfully and wonderfully made”. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!

  • “Another Way is Possible….”

    by the Revd Nick Bundock, Team Rector of St James & Emmanuel, Didsbury

    I just want you to re-read that phrase again because it’s really important.

    Another way is possible. 

    I’m able to say that not as a theologian theorising about some future destination as yet unreached.  I say it as one sent out over the boundary wall, as someone who has been to the future and has come back onto these pages to tell you what it actually looks like. I have become part of a new way of being the whole people of God and I want to share that with you.  I’ve come on here to tell you that the stories of failure, hurt and exclusion on these pages don’t need to be put on a repeat loop.

    I say ‘tell’ when actually I mean ‘show’.  My skill with words is insufficient to tell, so I want to show you what the future looks like through a series of images.  These are pictures that contrast sharply with the lived experience of those brave and wonderful LGBTQ+ siblings who have shared on these pages the horrific stories of malpractice and hurt.  These images are all I have to offer.  I cannot undo the wrongs that have been recounted on this blog, but I give what I can: hope.

    This is hope borne of my own failure as a priest and church leader; the suicide of Lizzie Lowe in 2014.  I come onto these pages not as an heroic white knight but as a repentant sinner, as one snatched as though through the flames.  When I look at these images, as I sit here and type, I feel myself overwhelmed by the grace of God.  Having been at the centre of a tragedy I am now privileged to be part of a radical and loving community of believers here in Manchester.  We’ve crossed over the boundary wall and I’m only coming back here to tell you that there is plenty of room for everyone on the other side.

    As you look at the photographs that follow, I invite you to dwell on them for a moment.  Notice the expressions on people’s faces.  Notice the poses, the position of each person relative to another.  These are, of course, all pre-covid and that in itself is a source of emotional content, pay attention to that too.  All of these images were taken on Easter Day 2019 by photographer Hannah Beatrice, I want you to notice one thing above everything else: the joy.

    I’m not sure what first brought Adelaide and Kathryn (centre) to St James and Emmanuel but they are newly married and very much in love.  Old and young, white and black hands reaching out to other hands in joyful unity.  Nobody in this image is arguing about the meaning of Romans 1!

    I have just said the words ‘The Peace of the Lord be always with you’ and the community is living out that peace as ministers of reconciliation.

    This photo reminds me of Paul’s words to the Corinthian church, ‘All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation…’ (2 Cor 15:18). This, my friends, is what reconciliation looks like when robed in flesh.  What a contrast to the mean, thin theology of exclusion that has imprisoned so many churches – ironically a kind of anti-evangelicalism.

    The second photo shows me with Augustine Ihm, who is soon to be a curate here at St James and Emmanuel (subject to visa).  Again, notice the joy, notice the harmony of black and white, young and old.

    The penultimate photo shows a long-standing member, Mike (left) who has joined me in moving from a conservative to an affirming position.  He has his arm around one of our many Iranian members (right).

    One of the miracles of inclusion is that once you make a community safe for the LGBTQ+ community you find that other minority groups feel safe in your church.  Heck, I feel safe in my church these days.  Since we became inclusive we’ve baptised nearly two-hundred Iranians and Kurds at St James and Emmanuel and many have stories of miraculous conversion.

    In my final photo, Paul is reading us a prayer he has written.  Paul lived in a sheltered community with other adults with learning difficulties.

    Paul died this year and is deeply missed.  I don’t know why we now have a community of adults with learning difficulties.  All I know is that we didn’t have one before we welcomed our LGBTQ+ friends into our church.

    —–

    I want you to see in this small selection of photographs a picture of hope.  The Church has perpetrated a great harm upon our LGBTQ+ siblings, but another way is possible and, more importantly, it’s possible for even previously ambivalent or hostile communities to enter this new emancipation – we did.

    I remember a conservative member, just before he left the church in horror at our move to inclusion, warn me that St James and Emmanuel would become like Jerusalem in Ezekiel 10.  The Spirit was grieved and would leave us and take us into exile for our sins.  What I have joyfully discovered – the paradigm shift is so profound I can still barely understand all its implications – is that we were in exile and it’s Lizzie’s death that has led us back to Jerusalem.

    Over the past year we have founded the Church for Everyone movement as a place to share the Good News of inclusion and reconciliation and to share practical insights and good practice.  Not just in the area of sexuality but also race, gender, disability and age.  We’d love to include your stories so that alongside the exposure of genuine hurt, misery, manipulation and abuse we can also begin to chart our way to a better future.  My vision for the Church of England is that it be a Church for Everyone.

    I don’t want a future where people have to point to one or two inclusion successes but to an entirely new way of being God’s people spread from one corner of the land to the other.   My aim is for St James and Emmanuel to simply disappear into a sea of inclusive and loving churches where love means love and inclusion is the rule rather than the exception.  Perhaps that’s something we can do together?

    I’ve read Annie’s story, Peter’s story and those of Kate, Yve, Stephen, Jamie and all the others and here I address them personally.  I’m so sorry about what has happened to you and I’m also sorry that I haven’t addressed your stories directly.  I hope that my reflection and response is helpful.  I am both a penitent – I’ve been part of the problem and I acknowledge the harm and pain I’ve caused you, but also a bearer of hope – it’s your emancipation into the full life of the Church that will become its salvation and it’s a wonderful, wonderful thing to behold when it happens.

    For more information about Lizzie Lowe please visit https://stjamesandemmanuel.org/beyond-inclusion/