I Thanked My Pastor for Preaching on the “Clobber Passages”
This Sunday morning, for the first time in my life, I sat in church and heard a sermon that told me I can be me even if that me is queer.
I used to attend a church where such a sermon wouldn’t have been allowed. In fact, once someone went up to give a testimony of the work he was doing at the local homeless shelter and he told a story of a new gay Christian who was struggling with his faith. He said he had asked this gay friend, “Why don’t you stop trying not to be gay?” His point was that we can’t change ourselves; only God can change us. But still, I never saw him at the pulpit again. I’m certain they stopped asking him to give testimonies.
Before I realized I am bisexual, I was used to the casual homophobia in the churches I attended. I wouldn’t have called it homophobia. In fact, I probably would have argued that it wasn’t any such thing. I believed the party line that same sex sexual activity is sinful and that it was good and right to be against it.
Even as my heart changed, I slowly began to see things changing in the church as a whole… but not in the churches I attended.
I grew up in Pentecostal, Evangelical churches. There is a wild freedom in such environments, with the emphasis on the gifts of the Spirit. Raising hands, shouting, even dancing in worship are not only acceptable, they’re encouraged in such churches.
And yet, there is a strict adherence to rules in these churches. It is as if, in the absence of the traditions of older denominations, the rules must be even stricter. There is a fear in these churches that, as we open ourselves to allow the Spirit of God to move, we are also opening ourselves to other spirits, and we must be on constant guard against evil.
These churches believe strongly that God can do anything. They often engage in what they call “spiritual warfare” where they use prayer and praise and worship as weapons against evil. You will see people dancing and shouting, trying to “break through.”
I believe that most people in these churches are sincere. I was. When you grow up in that world, and it’s all you know, it is very difficult to step back and see the big picture.
You cannot see how wrong you are until you see how wrong you’ve been.
Today, for the first time in my life, I heard a sermon from the pulpit at my church that affirmed LGBTQ+ identities. My pastor argued that the “clobber passages” have been misused.
I have read all these arguments before. I didn’t hear anything new today. And yet, this was the first time my own local church had given voice to them.
My chest felt tight like fire burned inside me. “Thank you for preaching that today.”
My pastor’s eyes teared up above his mask as I spoke. “You’re welcome,” he said.
