​A personal journey – reflections on how I took far too long to come out as fully affirming of LGBT people within the life of the Christian church.

Although I would not always have recognised the language, I have always self-identified as heterosexual and cisgender. Other options and alternatives only existed in lurid tabloid headlines and as opportunities for blackmail storylines in TV dramas. Growing up I knew of nobody who was openly gay.

I did encounter homophobic bullying, although I would not have recognised it as such. As a relatively shy and naive teenager I was verbally taunted and physically ‘touched’ by classmates for being gay. I wasn’t gay, but that only served to heighten my sense of outrage. Looking back, I realise that at least one of my classmates was gay. I wonder how he felt on seeing the bullying? I wonder how he felt on seeing my outrage? Why was I so offended at being ‘accused’ of being gay?

I remember occasionally hearing evangelical preachers condemn homosexuality as the ‘sin of Sodom and Gomorrah’. One particularly vivid sermon at a Christian summer convention, filled with colourful language and imagery, was powerful and yet oddly not compelling. I laughed about it with a slightly younger friend who was with me. We laughed together. It was another 10 years before he felt able to come out (to me) as gay.

My parents’ faith became my faith when I was 14, and I became an active part of a multi-church youth group (a follow on from Crusaders). I remember on one occasion we were joined by a visitor who in the course of sharing and praying spoke of how she was wrestling with being a lesbian and not feeling/thinking (I wonder which?) that to be compatible with being a Christian. We prayed for her.

My faith developed into a relatively conservative evangelical faith, informed by the wonderful independent Reformed evangelical church I joined as a theology undergraduate. I knew that as a leader of the CU I had to get up and leave a Methsoc event addressed by the President of the Methodist Conference when he started to defend the idea of being both gay and Christian. I knew that the Methodist Chaplain was relatively openly gay. I knew that the person who ran an excellent coffee venue in town for one of the local churches had left our church because he came out as gay. I knew what I believed and what I felt I had to believe. But I also remember a growing sense of wondering why?

What was the problem? It wasn’t that I felt unclear regarding what the Bible said (although I am a lot less clear as to the sense and meaning of certain texts today), but rather a sense of not quite understanding what the problem was? Why would God choose to favour one expression of loving sexuality over another? I could see clear moral and ethical principles behind ‘do not kill’ and ‘do not commit adultery’ but issues of sexual orientation seemed much less obviously ‘wrong’. And if in fact it was not ‘wrong’ to love someone and express that love – irrespective of gender – then a huge injustice was being supported and enabled by the teachings of my church and my failure to challenge them.

In 1996, whilst a student at RPC, I chose to undertake a summer placement at St James’s Church, Piccadilly. As well as wanting to experience a church tradition quite different from my own, I was aware of St James’s because of its Alternatives programme on Monday evenings – exploring a variety of beliefs and teachings around what might loosely be termed New Age Spirituality. What I hadn’t anticipated was getting to know the then Rector – Donald Reeves – who was and is a champion for full equality within the church. During my placement I witnessed my first Gay Pride, sitting outside the church with a seminar group as the parade passed by, and participating in a very moving Eucharist to mark the occasion. I listened to fellow believers talking about how they had kept their sexuality hidden in church for fear of the responses they would receive, and I listened to people recounting how they had been treated when they had come out to friends, family, and their church. I also remember asking forgiveness for the way I reacted to those homophobic taunts as a teenager. Perhaps my calling was to explore what it would mean to identify with people who are LGBT rather than distancing myself?
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My first sabbatical included a week living at Iona Abbey. One of the groups sharing in the week was from a Metropolitan Community Church, and I spent long hours that week talking with their minister. I was ministering in a relatively conservative context and wrestling with the growing dichotomy between what I believed and what I believed I was expected to believe. I began to recognise the irony of my need to ‘come out’ as gay affirming as a pale shadow of the reality LGBT friends often face as they come out to friends, family, and churches. But I was also wrestling with how this fitted with my calling to be an accredited BUGB minister – a calling that would not go away.

In 2009 I listened to Bishop Gene Robinson at Greenbelt speaking on the seven ‘texts of terror’ – the passages most commonly used to demonstrate the inherent sinfulness of homosexuality, and thereby to terrorise members of the LGBT community within and outside of our churches. I found his exegesis helpful, but my abiding memory is of listening to him describe his consecration service. Bishop Robinson spoke of the death threats made against him, and of the considered advice he received that he should wear a bullet-proof vest under his vestments. I remember wondering how this issue above all others has led to Christians threatening and bullying one another to the point of violence and death threats?

I remember the first time I publically challenged homophobic attitudes. The local paper in the town where I was ministering carried an ‘outraged’ letter from a local resident who had seen men kissing each other on an episode of Emmerdale. I can’t remember what I wrote (I am not given to writing letters to the press) but I was reasonably robust in defending Emmerdale and the LGBT community. I’m not sure Emmerdale noticed, but I did receive a wonderful thank you card from a member of a local church who currently felt unable to come out due to the culture of bullying he had experienced. Again I was challenged by the realisation that to say nothing is to say something, and time and again what LGBT people were hearing was that they were not welcome.

For a long time I had resolved to give honest and open answers to people when they asked me my views on homosexuality, but I seldom chose to raise the questions publically. This reluctance to initiate conversations was to a certain extent a personal response to the then MRC rules which I felt actively discouraged me from taking anything other than a ‘traditional’ line as an accredited BUGB minister. But as the years went by it became clear to more and more of my previous church that when I preached on inclusion as a BUGB core value I really did believe inclusion included LGBT friends. This was approved of by some, tolerated by others, and considered an unfortunate aberration by a few. But we had been together a long time. We coped!

Whilst being interviewed by my current church 4 years ago I was asked in a Q&A about my position on same sex marriage. (I prefer the term equal marriage, or simply marriage). My response was to turn it back on the church itself. I responded that despite the fact that at the time it would have potentially resulted in me personally being at odds with the then BUGB MRC rules, and therefore arguably conduct unbecoming, I would consider a request if my church urged me to. My point was a serious one. I considered, and still consider, that this is an issue that needs to be decided by the local church – in line with the first article of our BUGB Declaration of Principle. This answer, which was both an answer and a somewhat guarded response, cost me some votes but I received a call to the ministry of the church.

During my third year of ministry in my current church a few people began to be concerned that my preaching of inclusivity was actually meant to be taken seriously. Other matters of concern precipitated a church-wide discussion on issues relating to making moral choices (utilising BUGB materials of that name from 15 years or so ago…), which included issues relating to joining and serving in a Baptist Church whilst in a same-sex relationship.

2016 was an unsettling and difficult year for our local church, resulting in a significant number of people leaving for a variety of reasons. At a critical moment, and not unrelated to the decision of BUGB Council in March to ‘humbly urge’ churches to refrain from registering for same sex marriages, I was again asked in a CMM what my personal opinion was on this issue. I at last felt able to say, loud and clear, that I would be thrilled to one day be able to marry people equally in church. Of course, I also stressed that my personal opinion was not the point! This will ultimately be a decision for our church, and we have no plans to have this discussion at the moment. We have much else to resolve first!

One of the key questions is what has led me to this settled conviction? There are clues in some of the experiences I relate above, and in conversations with friends unmentioned. I do find that the argument from the few Biblical texts that reference homosexuality is less compelling than it used to be – not least because I am convinced that what was being rejected then is not the same as what is being affirmed today. However, the overriding argument in my mind is at a much more fundamental level.

As I have slowly taken leave of some of my conservative evangelical heritage I have rejected a number of things I once tried to defend – including a literal young earth six day creationism. I am fully convinced of the scientific evidence for evolution, including human evolution, over a very long period of history. However, this has left me more, not less, convinced of the overarching and undergirding role of God in creation. I believe in a God who has created and is creating. I believe that we are created in God’s image and likeness. All people. All ethnicities. All genders. All sexualities. All made in the image of God.

I cannot conceive of homosexuality as an illness or an abnormality. Gender identity is a fluid and complex matter and whilst the issues it raises and the responses it provokes can prove a strain on our mental health I cannot conceive of them as symptoms of illness. Old attempts to criminalise, stigmatise and to categorise in terms of mental health issues continue to need challenging within society and within the church.
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Why does the church struggle to adjust and adapt? Many answers come to mind, but I think one issue in particular will reward further investigation. For far too long Christianity has associated sex and sexuality with sin. Christianity has often been perceived as antagonistic to all expressions of sex and sexuality beyond the ‘necessary evil’ of procreation. This has also been coupled with patriarchal agendas damaging to women. We need to revisit a whole raft of issues related to sex and sexuality – sex before marriage, cohabitation, faithfulness in marriage (adultery is sinful not because it is sexual but because it breaks covenant faithfulness), masturbation, sex after marriage – as well as find a way forward that is appropriately affirming of people of all genders and sexualities in their God-given created-ness.

A final reflection. Why did I take my church through this unsettling conversation? We don’t even have anyone within our church who openly identifies as LGBT... Many years ago we had to lead our churches through the requirements of the Disability Discrimination Act. Some churches were reluctant to install ramped access because ‘we don’t have anyone who uses a wheelchair.’ Of course they didn’t – they couldn’t get up the steps! Why is there no one in my church that is openly LGBT? We believe they would be welcomed, but have we said as much? Have we demonstrated an openness and equality, or do we actively or passively continue the message of condemnation and rejection? My church has a banner outside which boldly proclaims that we are ‘A Church for everyone…’ Are we?

Robyn Shepherd reflects on her relationship with her sister:

'So I began to adjust to the idea that my sister was gay. I repeated it to myself mentally. I looked back at life for clues, and I looked forward at life to see how it might change.

'And a funny thing happened after all those years of acting like it didn’t matter. One day I realised it really didn’t. I realised that “she’s gay” was no longer a thought I needed to manage or a reality that overshadowed “she’s my sister.”

​'It is time we stop labelling sub-groups of people in order to differentiate them from ourselves. Offering thoughts and prayers and moments of silence only goes so far. We must figure out how to defeat hate, how to silence fear, how to see every human as, fundamentally, just like me. As long as we insist on describing different groups of people as “them” (LGBT, Muslim, migrant, scrounger, redneck) in order to describe or illustrate how “they” differ from “us,” we will continue to breed hate and fear in our society, and the innocent will continue to die (whether at their own hands or the hands of others) because it is easier to believe the overwhelmingly prevalent, misguided or hate-filled lies than it is to combat them with the truth.'

Readthe full article here:

https://rsshepherd.wordpress.com/2016/06/17/shes-not-one-of-them/

I’ve changed my mind about same-sex marriage, but I can’t say sorry for my previous views.

I would never have described myself as a fundamentalist, that was something for Americans. I did have a list of fundamentals, but then don’t we all? But in 1987, I was a young fundamentalist convert, just as sure of myself and my God as the young fundamentalists in Iraq and Syria, so many of whom are recent converts too.

The Christian Union (CU) at my university was having a vote to change its constitution. Up until that point, only a man could be president of the student society, and the change was to guarantee that in the future there would be male and female co-presidents. If you have been a student, you will know how important student politics of all kinds seems at the time, and this was no different. The destiny of the whole church hung in the balance while a couple of hundred young people were given the weighty task of discerning God’ will.

It wasn’t all that weighty for me. In fact, it was easy. 1 Timothy 2:12 says, ‘I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet.’ Why were these people wasting time proposing something that was completely contradictory to scripture? I spoke up several times in the meeting to make it clear that the constitutional change was against the Bible, and therefore against the will of God. The CU Executive looked at me with what appeared to be a mixture of disdain and pity, and I returned the favour. They won the vote almost unanimously.

It was in the same term that I started to realise that the Bible was not a textbook of ethics, science or history. Not even theology. I won’t bore you with the details, other than to say I had a bit of a crisis of faith. Particularly I was forced to realise how much my faith depended not on God, but on the Bible as an eternally perfect textbook.

I was already familiar with some of the dualisms of Christian faith. Musically, I loved alternative music Monday to Saturday but on Sunday I went to church and sang the middle of the road songs that my church considered to be contemporary. In a similar way, I was politically very liberal, but still held conservative view about gender and sexuality. While my views on male-female gender difference/hierarchy changed quite quickly when I was still a student, my theology of sexuality remained very traditional. I believed that any sexuality other than heterosexuality was a disorder that God wanted to heal.

I actually got involved (a little) in Courage Trust, one of the main ‘ex-gay’ ministries in the UK at the time. I don’t identify as gay, but I do struggle with archetypal ideas of masculinity, which I couldn’t fulfil even if I wanted to. The people I met through Courage were beautiful and even though they were living out a theology that must have caused many of them great pain, they exhibited a faith and spirit of community that had a lasting impact on me and helped to expunge a significant proportion of the homophobia that comes with growing up in the 1970s and then being converted into a conservative church.

To be honest my views on sexuality changed very little in the next 30 years. Except perhaps to say that my wish that things were different grew. But just like my younger self voting against gender equality in the 1980s, it wasn’t that hard. Because the Bible was clear.
You’ll notice that I wrote that sentence in the past tense. I remember the moment everything shifted for me. Jeremy Marks, formerly the leader of Courage Trust, was explaining how he had changed his mind and decided to back the recent legislation on same-sex marriage. He didn’t speak once about sex, but rather about love and the God-given desire for intimacy and companionship. It was beautiful and something broke inside me. I experienced what the Bible calls repentance.

The Greek word which we normally translate as repentance is metanoia, which actually means ‘to change one’s mind.’ In modern Greek, if I go to the shops for a loaf of bread and return instead with croissants then I have experienced metanoia. In ancient Greek the word has more force, but it doesn’t mean saying sorry or feeling sorry. It means that something has changed inside you and your life will be different now. When Jesus calls people to repent in Mark 1:15, he’s not looking for them to say sorry, but to change their lives.

I’ve repented of my former view that same-sex marriage is wrong. That also means that I’ve repented of my attempts to treat the Bible as a history, science, ethics and theology textbook, because that was the one thing that was forcing me to take a traditional line. Let’s be honest: if that’s what it is, it’s pretty bad. Not just because we are imposing our definitions of history, science, ethics and theology onto a group of texts that are at least 2000 years old, but because they are something else altogether.
That’s for another day and another book, but let me give you one example. President Yoweri Museveni of Uganda, after signing one of the most draconian anti-gay laws in history, claimed that the Bible justified his act. Romans 1:18-37 clearly states that those who have same sex relationships are doing so against their nature and (therefore) against God’s will. This is enough for President Museveni. He said that Romans 1 PROVES that homosexuality is a sinful choice and not ‘congenital’ (his word), and that science backs him up.

We know from other sources that the most public (certainly the most written about) gay relationships in the 1st century Roman Empire were otherwise straight men dominating slaves, prostitutes and entertainers. These ‘relationships’ had more in common with prison rape than mutual loving sex. So maybe Paul had a really bad view on gay sex and was right to condemn it is as ‘unnatural’ in that instance. But Paul says nothing of faithful monogamous homosexuality, probably because he knows nothing about it. So if we take Romans 1 to be a universal statement about all homosexuality, we are wrong. And if Paul thought he was making a universal statement about homosexuality, he was wrong too. If you’ve never been part of a conservative religious church or group, you may not know how naughty it is for me to write that.

So if I have repented of my view that all same-sex sex is sinful, why am I not sorry? Another story: I remember going for a walk with a friend I had known for a long time. Originally I had been her youth pastor but now she was all grown up and our relationship was more equal. Nonetheless, she had come to me for some advice and we had decided to take my dog to Bolton Abbey for a stroll. My friend was now in her twenties but unsure of what she should do career-wise. I remember exactly where we were when I answered her, because what I said was shocking to me even as I said it: ‘Perhaps you just need to get married, and your husband will define who you are.’ It was like The Spirit of Patriarchy took over my mouth for 30 seconds. I knew immediately that what I had said was wrong, stupid, cruel, oppressive, but I carried on as if it was a completely normal thing to say. Looking back, I think it just popped out because I didn’t know what to say. Years later, when this friend was married, I finally plucked up the courage to say sorry, and she remembered too and forgave me. I knew I was in the wrong. That wasn’t the case when I held a traditional view of sex and marriage – I genuinely believed that I was following God’s way.

When we progressives call all Christians who uphold the traditional teaching of the church homophobic, we do them a great disservice. We are actually doing ourselves a great disservice too, because we end up looking hateful. If you campaign against illegal settlements in Palestine, you will very soon get called anti-Semitic. It’s just silly. I don’t think I’ve been particularly homophobic. When a teacher at my school came out to me, he followed it up with, ‘Don’t worry, I don’t fancy you.’ I was offended that he didn’t fancy me, not that he was gay. Of course there are many, many homophobes hiding behind church teaching, and many, many who have been groomed into homophobia by church teaching. But not all. Most people I know who hold a traditional position on sex and marriage do so because of their desire to follow God as faithfully and as seriously as they can. The Bible is their primary tool for doing that, and a surface reading of scripture seems to indicate that God doesn’t like gay sex.

That was me. I’ve always taken my faith very seriously, and I’ve always taken the scriptures very seriously. I don’t answer to you, or to my family, or to my church, but to God. How can I say sorry for that? Yes, I think I was wrong. But I could also be wrong now, overcome by my desire to make everything OK. I’m not writing to please or upset you, dear reader, whoever you are, but to lead you to God as well as I can. Have I repented of my old view? Yes. Do I wish I had done so earlier? Yes. Do I regret trying so hard to discern God’s will and getting it wrong? Sorta. I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused and contributed to, but even though I now believe I was wrong, I can’t apologise for following Jesus to the best of my ability.
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I still have a very traditional view of sex and marriage, and here it is: if you are having sex with someone, I encourage you to consider whether or not you are willing to give your life to and for them, until death separates you. If you are willing, I urge you to get married. If not, I urge you not to have sex with them but to love and honour them in a different way. I believe that a lifelong, faithful, monogamous covenant relationship reflects both God’s nature and the best of human nature. I know that you may not agree, and you might object to me imposing my ideas on you in this way, but I’m sorry, I’m not sorry.

Simon Hall.

​It strikes me that a good deal of the opposition to SSM in the church is, in fact, not about the status of marriage at all. It is more due to the fact that many have, up until now, only reluctantly / unwillingly acknowledged being gay as a legitimate status. The issue of marriage forces one to realise that they are not actually convinced that it is ok to be gay. That up until now it has been, for many, an abstract concept that one could remain unconvinced about but quiet. However, it is now no longer possible to keep the issue as an academic debate or grey area, marriage requires the active involvement of the church to become complicit in the mortal sin of the homosexual, not only that, but to declare the love of God over them and their union.
From a neutral perspective one could presume that the church would be a key supporter of SSM. What could be more natural than for two people in love to stand before their friends and their maker to declare that they are together and committed to live life in union - or marriage as we call it. It would seem odd to be able to take a moral stance against the more easy and wild lifestyles of some gay men and yet not offer any monogamous or committed alternative unless of course, what you really think is that this is all a bit of a nuisance and people should not be gay at all. Until now this has, of course, been somewhat hidden by the existence of Civil Partnerships, an attempt by the secular world to provide an expression of love and commitment where the church has failed.
I realise that I will, no doubt be challenged that this is not because we don’t like gays (some of my best friends are gay). It’s just that marriage is more than just a declaration of love, it’s for families. Well, that argument sucks and has already been answered. It is particularly poisonous to those heterosexual couples who enter into marriage knowing they cannot, by choice or condition, have children. The other classic is of course that biblical marriage is for a man and a woman, Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve. Well as far as I can see, the Bible doesn’t have direct answers to many of our modern questions, what of corporate banking, legal tax management (as opposed to evasion), modern medicine, saving money for a rainy day, the LHC firing neutrons at the speed of light. What a great age we live in when we are having to ask new questions of God. In terms of homosexuality we are asking new questions because previously the culture the scriptures were written in would demand the death, drugging or banishment of a homosexual, the love that dare not speak its name, does anyone really want to go back there? Oh, and before the ‘love the sinner hate the sin’ brigade begin to circle, if you have genuinely found a way of separating someone from their inherent sexual desires, then let me know, I know a couple of randy straight teenagers that desperately need your help.
If we have truly managed to come to accept that some people are just gay (deal with it) and that they can be gay and Christian, still with me? and that many, not all, people desire companionship and committed relationship… Then the offer of recognising a committed relationship is just right isn’t it? I realise some are still thinking:
‘What, now they want marriage? Is it not enough that we have stopped stoning them? Just slow down, we need to think’.
Well no. Being gay is not a lifestyle, no, they shouldn’t be grateful we no longer condemn them and it is no longer viable to ‘tolerate it’. You can no longer expect ‘Christian gays’ to stay single and celibate for the rest of their lives, to hide in the shadows feeling condemned by both their own feelings and those that should love them most. If God loves someone, you love them, that is our call. God loves people and God loves love and loves commitment. Marriage is the most Godly way I know to show someone you love them. Isn’t that enough?

Recently, I received an email from a Christian puppeteer, juggler and children's entertainer from the US who will be staying over in our city during a mission trip in October. He was looking for a church where he could offer to run a children's and family evangelistic event and contacted us via our church website. I replied to him saying we were very interested and he came back to me wanting to check something out before agreeing to come.

He'd noticed that "we welcome people of every age, culture background and sexuality" and wanted to check out whether we "allow practicing homosexuals to serve in leadership positions of the church?" He went on to say, "I realize the difference between treating the homosexual with love, dignity, honor and respect [I heartily agree], vs. accepting or endorsing the homosexual lifestyle [I completely disagree]."

My reply to him (with his name removed) is below. I share this partly because it gives something of my church's journey on this issue over the last few years. But also, I really don't believe God wants his church to tear itself apart over this issue. I think it was Bishop Tom Wright who said: "The Church is very good at choosing to fight to the death in the wrong field". Anyway, here it is.

"Dear XXXX,

Thanks once again for your prompt (and lengthy!) reply.

However, I have to say, I'm disappointed that from your email, it seems as though our attitude to homosexuality is the one issue that would stop you being able to be involved in our "Bring a friend" outreach service. We could be a church which refuses to accept any women in positions of authority: would that be a barrier to your involvement? Or what about if we held an extreme reformed theology (as a church a couple of miles from us does) which means that they have a very narrow view of who the elect is and who can therefore be saved: would this be a non-negotiable?

Let me tell you a little about our journey on this issue. As a church, we have debated this issue over a number of years. In our deliberations, I referred to a number of gay Christians friends of mine, who for years (or even decades) tried to deny their own sexuality, and suffered low self-esteem, depression and great loneliness in the process. Each of them finally reached the point of saying: "How can a God whose essence is love have created me to be someone who is detested by him?" We also noted that on certain issues, much of the worldwide Church has recognised that some of the Bible's teaching was for a particular time and culture. So despite 1 Timothy 2:11-15, 1 Corinthians 14:34-35 and other passages, many churches have women in positions of authority. Similarly, despite Leviticus 25:44-46, Ephesians 6:5, Colossians 3:22 and other passages, the Church has universally rejected slavery. We also recognised that much of the Church has for many decades demonised and vilified gay people and any message of God's love has been lost.

Before we voted in a church meeting, it became clear that there was still some diversity of opinion amongst our membership on this issue, but we decided to hold together in love despite these differences, and to recognise that the overarching essence of God's character is love. We therefore voted that if someone in a same-sex relationship wanted to be baptised and become a church member, we would simply use the pastoral system which we already have, in which a person is visited by two existing members in order to learn about their life and faith journey. After the visitors report back to a church meeting, the person can then be approved and welcomed into membership.

In reading your email, my biggest disappointment is not that we disagree on this issue of sexuality, as sometimes Christians do have different opinions on a variety of subjects. My real disappointment is that, because you hold a different viewpoint on this, that you are unwilling to offer your skills to help us in simply sharing the gospel with people in our local community. My final thought on this is: if Jesus wanted the issue of sexual orientation to be the "dealbreaker" over which the church should be prepared fight to the death, why did he not make a single statement on it during his whole ministry?

I pray that whichever churches you do work with are blessed by your ministry."

Human sexuality and the Church

The Baptist Union Declaration of Principle states:

1. That our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, God manifest in the flesh, is the sole and absolute authority in all matters pertaining to faith and practice, as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and that each Church has liberty, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to interpret and administer His laws.
2. That Christian Baptism is the immersion in water into the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, of those who have professed repentance towards God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ who ‘died for our sins according to the Scriptures; was buried, and rose again the third day’.
3. That it is the duty of every disciple to bear personal witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and to take part in the evangelisation of the world.

It seems clear to me that the one basis for our faith is Jesus Christ as revealed in the Scriptures.

As it appears that our Baptist forbears understood, truth is not a creed or doctrine but a person - specifically the revelation of God’s truth, way and life in Jesus Christ.
Having received forgiveness and entered into a relationship with Christ crucified and resurrected, through the waters of baptism, every disciple bears witness to the life of Christ. This is Christ in us and we in Christ - resurrection life - life in the Spirit - Kingdom life - life in all the fullness that God intended for us.

Brian McLaren’s thoughts and reflections may help us in our debate about human sexuality. In his book, A New Kind of Christianity (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 2010), McLaren suggests that parts of the conservative Christian churchapproach the biblical text as if it were an annotated code [legal code or constitutional document] instead of what it actually is: a portable library of poems, prophecies, histories, fables, parables, letters, sagely sayings, quarrels, and so on.’ (103) We would be helped if we recognised the Bible as a library of culture and community - the culture and community of a people who trace themselves back to Moses and Abraham. Unlike a constitution we do not expect complete internal consistency in the Bible; rather we expect to find vigorous internal debate around key questions that were important within the theological culture in which it was produced. (107)

When we recognise that this is the nature of the Bible, we are placed in the text, not under or over it, in the conversation, in the story, in the current and flow, in the predicament, in the Spirit, in the community of people who keep bumping into the living God ... loving God, betraying God, losing God and being found again by God. (125)

As Baptists, as for all Christians the Bible’s highest value is in revealing Jesus, who gives us the highest, deepest and most mature view of the character of the living God (Colossians 1:15-20; Hebrews 1:1-4; John 1:1-5).

But we might ask: Is our picture of Jesus simply the one with which feel most comfortable?
The Book of Revelation celebrates not the love of power but the power of love. The Jesus, who is Lord in Revelation 19 is the alternative to the empires of this world in which so many of earth’s religions live. Sadly the desire for a military Messiah remains in many western evangelical circles.

Jesus promises those who ‘eat his flesh and drink his blood’ (take his life into them) the life of the ages (eternal life), abundant life, which sparkles in new significance - life that transcends life in the present age. (173)

Now to think about same sex partnerships and ‘marriage’. While I do not see same sex partnerships in terms of marriage as defined in Genesis 2 and Matthew 19, I find McLaren’s thoughts both challenging and helpful in my understanding of human sexual relationships.
In discussing this subject McLaren introduces us to‘fundasexuality’ rooted not in faith but in fear - of new ideas, people who are different, fear of criticism or rejection by its own community, or fear of God’s wrath on them if they do not conform fully to and enforce the teachings and interpretations of their popular leaders. He suggests that it is a kind of hetero-phobia: the fear of people who are different. It comes in many forms - Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or even atheist. Something or someone is identified as the ‘devil’ - a threat, something for the majority to be against. (235) For fundasexuality it is lesbian, gay, transgendered and bisexual people who are the target.

McLaren points out that there are a variety of ‘marriage’ relationships in Scripture such as polygamy allowed and even encouraged. He suggests that we might consider marriage in the same way as Sabbath, as in Jesus’ words: ‘the Sabbath was made for human beings not human beings for the Sabbath.’ This might suggest that marriage is similarly created to help humans in our sexual relationships, even gay humans. (237)

McLaren comes back to a biblical interpretation which is Jesus focused rather than constitutional, forensic and legalistic. So if Jesus is the climax of a dynamic biblical narrative and the supreme revelation of God, then Jesus’ treatment of the marginalised and the stigmatised requires us to question our approach. (241)

McLaren challenges us to see that ‘[as] a change-averse community, the Church sees the increasing acceptance of gay people as yet another slide down the slippery slope towards moral relativism and decay. [But] as a change-catalytic community, the Church sees this increasing acceptance as yet another step up in removing the old dividing walls of Jew/Gentile, slave/free, male/female, and so on.’ (242)
McLaren then presents his readers with a most significant pointer for our debate. He recalls that as the Gospel goes out into the Gentile world (Acts 8) the first conversion is of the Ethiopian eunuch, who is baptised by Phillip. We tend to hear this as a joyful conversion story, but maybe we need to read it in the context of the community of the early church. We need to stop and consider - this man is an Ethiopian, that is a Gentile of a different ethnic group, and also he has been castrated, both of which were barriers to acceptance into Jewish Temple worship.

So now we listen to his question: ‘What is to prevent me from being baptised?’ - well, as far as becoming a Jewish proselyte is concerned, these two for a start! But Phillip takes this audacious action and baptises him. This man may well have been humiliated and rejected in Jerusalem, but in Christian baptism is accepted. How often we miss what is staring us in the face!! (242-7)

One further reflection, Stephen J. Patterson (the George H. Atkinson Chair of Religious and Ethical Studies at Willamette University, who addresses this question about eunuchs in the Bible in his Biblical Views column Punch Thy Neighbor in the May/June 2015 issue of Biblical Archaeology Review) draws our attention to Matthew 19:12, where Jesus refers to some who are eunuchs for the sake of the Kingdom. Patterson suggests that the phallus is a symbol of male dominance and power in the Graeco-Roman empires, and its removal is a statement of the Jesus-centred, love-focused, self-sacrificing Kingdom opposed to the empires of the world.

In our sexually charged and temptation filled society, McLaren ponders whether the gay community’s ‘coming out of the closet’ will help us all to address our sexuality. ‘... the longer we hide from the truth of our sexuality - in all its beauty and agony, in all its passion and pain, in all its simplicity and complexity - the sicker we will be, as religious communities, as cultures, and as a global society.’ (253)

Can we accept a variety of committed sexual relationships:lesbian, gay, transgendered, bisexual, and heterosexual in the same way as Phillip did when he baptised the Ethiopian eunuch?

I believe that this discussion should prayerfully and lovinglycontinue in our Baptist family.

John Weaver is a former President of the Baptist Union of Great Britain, and was Principal of South Wales Baptist College until his retirement in 2011. He specialises in Practical Theology.

I feel the need to say something quite direct and perhaps unpopular. It seems to me that this whole Gay/ Lesbian/ SSM question is actually a very simple issue. It is a basic issue of human rights!
People don’t choose their sexuality. No matter the factors involved in creating our sexuality (genetic, social, etc) we are who we are. We can’t change it. And given that that is so, the question of people’s “opinions” about our sexuality falls into the category of total and utter irrelevance! The idea that our approach to sexuality it is a “hermeneutical” question (a word invented by theologs and unknown to 99.999% of the population!!!) is just nonsense. Sexuality, our experience of it and our response to it is a fundamental building block of life from which derives a simple matter of human rights: is this or that person is to be accorded full status and rights as a human being – or are they to be oppressed and denied their rights on the basis of the sexual bias of those who find their sexuality distasteful? Worse still, are they to be denied and rejected in the name of God?
As Baptists we should be leading the way in insisting on equal rights for all people, rather than grubbing around in the Bible seeking out verses that will support what is simply our innate and reptilian prejudices against homosexuals. (To explain, it is, I think, quite natural - and almost necessary for the continuation of the species - that heterosexuality will carry some inbuilt bias against homosexuality, but as humans we have both brains and hearts to moderate and control this bias and set an example to others).
I am tired of hearing about the need to be “pastorally sensitive” towards people who “struggle” with (other people’s!) homosexuality. OK we should we gentle, but we should be firm and unyielding in teaching people that this is not a choice that homosexual people have made but rather it is the way that (if you want to put it this way) “God has made them”.
The real and often unaddressed question is – what about the people who are homosexual, whose life is devastated at its very core by the denial by others of their sexual orientation: people pushed into self-doubt, depression and even suicide by the rejection of others in the name of God and righteousness?
Who cares what your “opinion” is on this matter? Who says you even have a right to an “opinion”. Do you have a right to opinions that the earth is flat or that black people are sub-human or that disabled people are morons? We need to get the homosexual “debate” onto the same level. It doesn’t matter what you think – you just need to catch up with reality and accept the fact (!!!) that a person’s sexuality is how it is and that your only proper and Christian response to it is to affirm them and respect them as you would/should anyone else. Their rights in life (such as SSM) must be exactly the same as any other person’s rights.
Of course, a major problem in achieving this in the Baptist community is another “elephant in the church”: namely our traditional approach to scripture as “the Word of God” by which we apparently need to justify every action we take. Where do we get that idea? Did Jesus say that? Jesus said that he would send the Spirit of Reality to lead us into all reality precisely because there were things he wanted to tell us humans that we couldn’t swallow in his day. We will never find the “word of God” simply in the pages of scripture. The Spirit also works in the world at large (over whose chaos she originally hovered in the creation story). It is the Spirit who has led the way in human rights and who informs much of the freedom we enjoy today. The attempt to equate the contemporary witness of the Spirit with that of two to three thousand years ago may be “interesting” but it is not a task which should allow us to ignore or worse still be complicit in the denial of equal rights to all people today.

In this paper (downloadable in full below), Sean Winter observes that 'whatever convictions we hold about what biblical interpretation ought to be, in empirical terms we ought to face up to the fact that all interpretation generates disagreement. Therefore, our obedient commitment to the human work of “churchly biblical interpretation” leads to the inevitable consequence that we will disagree with each about what the biblical texts mean. This state of affairs then raises an important theoretical question: how do we understand interpretative diversity in theological perspective in our tradition?'

He says that 'covenant fellowship includes engagement with scripture because scripture is the means by which that fellowship is initiated and sustained [and] that the appropriate word for that engagement is interpretation.'

This means that 'biblical interpretation should be viewed as “the church’s active, diverse and ongoing engagement with the biblical texts” and that a genuinely Baptist account of the hermeneutical task will “permit interpretive diversity and disagreement as a hallmark of the church’s life and not insist on particular interpretive decisions as the necessary hallmark of being ‘biblical.’”

'In situations of disagreement within the Christian community, there is often the search for a solution via adjudication. Both parties look for, or more commonly they believe themselves to be, a person or persons who have sufficient authority to be able to resolve disputes and establish clear boundaries. This is as true in the
interpretative task as it is in other aspects of church life. In structural terms, the need for adjudication reflects a model of church in which some—usually a few—are invested with or claim the relevant authority by virtue of their title or role or education or gifts: the “government church” [model].'

'When interpretative disagreement is on the surface of our church life and when pressures within and without the church call for definitive statements and clear positions, the temptation can seem to be overwhelming. And yet an understanding of the church as a community of friendship provides us with resources for resisting this
solution to the conflict that arises from their diversity. '

'Central to the Baptist vision is the idea that the identity, belief, and practices of the church are not determined by these forms of authority or by the interpretative decisions that are reached by appeal to them, but they are instead the result of the participation of a covenanted people into the life of God. Friendship is a form of relationship that allows space for all this because as we learn to become friends with one another, we are, in fact, responding to God, who in Jesus Christ calls us God’s friends.'

'What does this look like in practice? Well, perhaps if Baptists can learn to read as friends, we will do what friends often do—think for example of members of a book group or a dinner party conversation discussing a recent novel. We will find ways of sharing our views and interpretations honestly and openly, of listening to alternative views and interpretations, of allowing the richness of the conversation to take us back to the text with new eyes, and of agreeing to disagree, and all this without threatening the free yet committed relationship that friends share.'

However, 'conversation, thus understood, is not the exchanging of views or interpretations. It is the encounter with difference in which I allow for the possibility that I might be wrong and might have to change my views on the truth, or my interpretation of the text. As friends converse we discover “the other as other, the different as different” and therefore “the different as possible.”'

'To speak of conversation and argument in this way is, I propose, to speak of the requirement to give testimony. A person who says “this is what scripture means” to another is, from this perspective, saying neither “agree with my interpretation or we must break relationship” nor “this is what I think the text means but I am telling you for information only.” To bear witness is to seek to persuade the other that my witness is true, which is another way of
saying that exegesis is argument, that to interpret is to make a claim and that every act of interpretation is in some sense an act of proclamation.'

'Of course, understanding our relationship with one another in this way will make some feel vulnerable, while others will exploit their power in order to take advantage of the situation. The fact that rhetoric often takes unpalatable forms does not mean that we can escape the reality of our situation. For Baptist communities, it is vital to recognize that it is the persuasive testimony of scripture that calls the church into being. To bear witness to one another fully, truly, and openly is a risky strategy. However, far from being a threat to the unity and identity of the church, this mutual witness is constitutive of its identity, for in the work of interpretation we play
our part in the covenantal drama of God’s saving action in Jesus Christ.'

'In sum, the church’s existence depends on the covenantal action of God who calls this community into existence and whose love sustains the covenantal relationships within the community. To speak this way of the church is to speak of it as a community of friends and thus as a place where diversity, disagreement, and even conflict are inevitable, but not ultimately destructive. Scripture’s authority within this community is established by virtue of its role within God’s covenant-making relationship with us. Thus, our diversity, disagreement, and even conflict over the meaning of scripture are inevitable, but not ultimately destructive. Although the church is often tempted to seek definitive adjudication of competing interpretations, this is a temptation that ought to be resisted.'

'Although the conflict of interpretations can be avoided by an appeal to the all-pervading importance of good relationships, the inevitable downplaying of the need for the church to search the scriptures is too high a price to pay.'

'When we read, interpret, talk, and argue about what the Bible means, we are actually engaging in the process of conversation and argument that should, when rightly understood, hold the church together. For as long as we are responding to these texts, we are responding to the God who speaks through them. There is always the need for vigilance, lest scripture is elevated or demoted to a place that distorts its overall role within the divine economy. But as we read in the community of friends, we do well to heed the imperatives to “be attentive, be intelligent, be responsible, be loving, and, if necessary, change.”

Originally published in The ‘plainly revealed’ Word of God: Baptist Hermeneutics in Theory and Practice, ed. Helen Dare and Simon P. Woodman, (Macon GA: Mercer University Press, 2011).

Instead of our normal Thursday night down the Yard this week, Luke and I, together with others from Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church, went along to the Copper Box in the Olympic park. We were a small group in a nearly-6000 strong turnout for the London Citizens Mayoral Assembly. The two main runners in the London Mayoral race were there; Zac Goldsmith (Conservative) and Sadiq Khan (Labour). This gathering was the culmination of a 6 month process of listening, discerning, and now finally challenging some of those who hold the power to make a difference in the housing crisis that London is facing right now. Whether we want to admit it or not, there is a social cleansing happening in our capital city. The two candidates responded differently to the requests made by Citizens UK: the Conservative candidate, although agreeing to some of what the delegates were asking, was reluctant to make promises; whereas the Labour candidate argued that the manifesto did not go far enough. However both candidates agreed to meet regularly with London Citizens if they were elected. Even Goldsmith could see the value of talking with those he was opposed to, including and listening to the voice from the margins. Further to this, Khan was not demanding the ceasing of outside investments - only that priority be given rightly to those who already belong to the city, that communities should become economically mixed rather than polarised. It was an exciting and satisfying evening, and felt like a great victory for the London Citizens delegates. Although now is when the hard work starts, to keep those who hold power accountable to their principles and promises.

The reason Luke and I were there? Because these are issues of equality and inclusion, values at the heart of the Soho Gathering. We will choose to stand with those who are marginalised and kept down by those who have power and abuse it. Power is always a dangerous thing to hold, psychologically it can cause the wielder to lose empathy and to disassociate themselves from those they see themselves as holding power over. This is one of the reasons why inequality happens, it is why atrocities take place, and it is why we can see another human being as ‘other’ and treat them as such.

Let’s move on to Friday afternoon, and Luke and I are now meeting at Waterloo station to go to a conversation with Stonewall about the place we find ourselves in, within the Baptist Union. We met with Ruth Hunt, and part of the team that is engaging faith communities around issues of equality and inclusion. Luke and I spoke about our experience as Baptists, what the union means to us, and how our structures worked.

I explained that I fell in love with the principles of the Baptist Union whilst discerning my call to ministry, realising that I was a Baptist by conviction, rather than a Methodist, Anglican, Independent Congregationalist or whatever. I am a Baptist because we trust God to move in people’s lives, because we trust people to respond to Jesus through baptism, because we don’t need to make promises on anyone’s behalf. I am a Baptist because we believe that we are all called to live a Christ-like life, sharing the gospel through the world as we go, and because we trust the local congregation to discern the mind of Christ, that it is as we gather together that Christ is present. Together we are stronger even through our diversity. For me it has always been our diversity that I have believed to be one of our greatest strengths. At one level the idea of living in such tension frightens me, rubbing alongside those who see things differently and being ok with that. But what excites me is that everyone has the right to belong, to pick up their cross daily, and that we don’t have a pope or a bishop or a book of prayer to tell us how to do things, rather we listen to each other and hear God together. This is the union I fell in love with.

Declaration of Principle
The Basis of the Baptist Union is:
1. That our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, God manifest in the flesh, is the sole and absolute authority in all matters pertaining to faith and practice, as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and that each Church has liberty, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to interpret and administer His laws.
2. That Christian Baptism is the immersion in water into the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, of those who have professed repentance towards God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ who 'died for our sins according to the Scriptures; was buried, and rose again the third day'.
3. That it is the duty of every disciple to bear personal witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and to take part in the evangelisation of the world.

Of course there is a cost, a cost I have willingly if at times painfully shouldered; journeys to and from college were frequently filled with conversations where I would have to defend my call to ministry to two men who clearly disagreed, because inclusion means inclusion even with those who are diametrically opposed to me. Anyone who knows what it is to have a calling will recognise this, and those of you out there who feel called to positions will know that this is about more than what ‘I do’, it is closer to what ‘I am’. To work alongside who deny the existence of that part of me is painful.
But now my Union doesn’t feel safe. There are those who want to punish and abuse individuals and churches for the ‘liberty, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to interpret and administer His laws’ that the Union gives us in the first place.

We shared with Ruth from Stonewall about the declaration the Union made two years ago, and how it was in-keeping with our Baptist way of being church, and about the councils recent ‘amendment’ to that statement. As we chatted and it became clear that this isn’t really about Same Sex Marriage, that this is about changing our identity as Baptists. What some in our union are trying to do is to fundamentally change the way we as Baptist churches relate and hear God. I reflected back on what had happened Thursday night, with nearly 6000 people standing up to the powers and saying that the way the poor and the foreign and the different have been shoved out to the margins isn’t good enough, because we are all equal and we all have a voice.

I think about those who would like to see me taken off the list and my church kicked out of the Union, and this is what I have to say:
Inviting people to Christ’s table does not mean that I agree with what you say and what you do, but it means I am as broken as you are. I would never want you who disagree with me, even though your views are abhorrent to me, to leave our Union. But I would also never want to force you to follow God the way I do, or to accept me as your minister, or to bless the beautiful loving relationships that to me clearly and manifestly demonstrate the love of Christ. Because unity does not mean uniformity. I can say I’m disappointed with you for trying to force me to conform to the way you think and the way you act, I get to be angry and disturbed and ashamed that I see you hurting and damaging people, and pushing people from Christ’s love. However, even in all of this, I don’t get to say, and I will not say, you aren’t my brothers and sisters in Christ, you aren’t my brothers and sisters in the Baptist Union.
I do not get to say we aren’t family anymore, and according to our Baptists Principles neither do you.

Dawn

Read more at: https://sohogathering.org

In his paper, 'In Appreciation of “Reluctant” Prophets' William John Lyons from the University of Bristol reflects on the way Baptists read the Bible. He suggests that our practice of community discernment is badly under-used when it comes to hearing from scripture, and that we ignore our Baptist 'experts' on the Bible at our peril.

He points to 'the deep wells of creativity, the almost-electric vitality, and the steadfast and hopeful conviction' and suggests that 'to be a Baptist is at its very best to partake in and of one of the most radical, Christo-centric, counter-cultural, communally satisfying, and life-giving segments of the Christian tradition.'

Against this, however, he notes that 'the flip side of Baptists being viewed as people of promise is what I can only see as the unavoidable conclusion that they have all too often fallen short of their potential and have all too often remained a people of unfulfilled promise.' Further, he observes that 'few Baptist
churches seem to me to inhabit the radical and prophetic space that their own language about themselves and especially about their use of scripture clearly implies that they should.' Indeed, 'Baptist churchmen and women as I have typically encountered them are too often little more than members of pan-evangelical churches'.

He continues, 'When one also considers the role that scripture played in discussions about women in ministry in the 1920s—virtually none—for example, or the irony of the Baptist World Alliance having commissions on numerous and diverse theological and ethical topics, but none dealing with scripture itself, or the damage caused by the apparent absence of an open debate about human sexuality—so often, as we know, a hermeneutical issue rather than an ethical one—within contemporary Baptist settings, the problem seems to be one that is present at every level of the Baptist world. Is it really the case that scripture within Baptist churches as we know them functions as the church’s central witness to its Lord, being interpreted by those who stand among the body of believers and then the truth of the matter being weighed by the many of the community, or is it actually the case that scripture is often simply being silenced or replaced rather than heard?'

He concludes by suggesting that 'the time for reticence is long past. Instead, it is time for these prophets to speak loudly and openly, and it is time for the Baptist churches to listen and to weigh their words. It is time for the Baptist tradition to look once again at its riches and to ask if the churches that claim that designation are really all that they are able to be.'

Download the full article below.

Originally published in The ‘plainly revealed’ Word of God: Baptist Hermeneutics in Theory and Practice, ed. Helen Dare and Simon P. Woodman, (Macon GA: Mercer University Press, 2011).

As a Baptist by conviction, I hold strongly to Baptist principles, including freedom of conscience and the priesthood of all believers. These principles clearly uphold the freedom of each believer, in the context of his or her local community of faith, to explore scripture, seek God and discern. It is true that Baptists also deeply value associating with others, and have, in the past grouped around unifying confessions of faith by mutual consent. This includes the current BUGB Declaration of Principle, which was originally worded so as to allow space for both General and Particular Baptists within the BUGB fold. This Declaration is something we hold in common, but it leaves space for each congregation to form their own beliefs in community, with prayer, based on the scriptures. Unfortunately, the statement recently released by BU Council goes beyond the Declaration of Principle, effectively imposing limits of doctrine and practice on BUGB churches and ministers without due process or the consent of all concerned.
 
Considering all this, I am baffled by this statement which seems to prioritise the unity of the Baptist Union above the freedom of conscience that should be granted to all parties without an imposition of restraint for the sake of that unity. I would have been much more at peace with a statement that affirmed the freedom of those in favour of marriage equality to practice their beliefs and those opposed to marriage equality to withdraw their membership from the Union if they could not reconcile their consciences to being in fellowship with those in favour, couched in terms that reminded both that it is at the core of being Baptist to allow others to discern and hold their own understandings of the message and person of Jesus Christ as revealed in scripture.
 
I am grieved by the pain suffered by so many people as this issue continues to burden believers. The pain of those opposed, as they feel the truth is being compromised. The pain of those in favour, as they feel their deeply held convictions are not respected. The pain of those individuals about whom we argue who are caught in the middle and de-humanised by the argument itself.
 
Unity at the cost of conscience is dearly bought. Too dearly in my opinion.
 
Robyn Shepherd
https://rsshepherd.wordpress.com/2016/03/22/costly-unity/