I live in Colorado Springs,
ground zero of the Ted Haggard meth-and-gay-prostitute scandal,
where, only weeks before, the black Christian community was
shattered by Pastor Benjamin L. Reynolds' admission of his
sexual orientation. Haggard's subsequent outing has thrust
Reynolds into a national spotlight, making him, ironically, more
famous and in greater demand as a speaker than at any other time
in his ministry.
“I am a same-gender loving person,” Reynolds said on Friday,
September 29th 2006 as he tendered his resignation as Senior
Pastor of the Emmanuel Missionary Baptist Church in Colorado
Springs, a stewardship he’d held for fifteen years. There was
sobbing and shocked silence. The Emmanuel family, having long
suspected as much, was stung nonetheless by this confirmation of
their worst fear.
“I believe that this is who God has created me to be in His
perfect wisdom,” Reynolds continued. “I do not repent because I
cannot repent from an orientation that I was born with. I do,
however, repent for not having had the courage to tell you
sooner, for anyone that I have hurt or mislead, and more than
that, I repent for not having trusted God enough to know that He
never makes a mistake.”
And, now, the advice is: avoid. Now, suddenly, I’m supposed to
pretend to not know this man whom I’ve known for more than a
decade. Which is both hypocritical and absurd, since most of us
suspected as much all along. To pretend to be shocked and
appalled and roll around ripping our clothes and attacking the
man now is beyond childish, and is damming evidence of a corrupt
spiritual life, one that leverages appearance against sincerity
as we cloak ourselves in man-made righteousness while completely
missing the point of Jesus’ ministry.
I have simply given up trying to talk to church folk about gay
issues because the fear is so deeply and generationally
entrenched in our culture that simply bringing up the issue
cranks up extreme anxiety. The only acceptable conversation one
may have with church folk about gay issues is one that embraces
unbridled disgust and loathing for same-gender loving people and
advocates brainwashing and lives of isolation and shame. Even
under the most benign circumstances, hatred and bigotry are only
a breath away as the church struggles with this issue, an issue
that strikes at our deepest fears and provokes our greatest
response.
A Tale of Two Pastors
The
Colorado Springs black Christian community has been rocked by
Reynolds’s declaration, which was itself subsequently
overshadowed by the sudden outing and subsequent confession of
New Life Community Church Pastor Ted Haggard (right). A national
figure as leader of the National Association of Evangelicals,
Haggard led the charge against gay marriage and same-sex ballot
initiatives and family values (i.e.: anti-gay) legislation
before he was outed by an admitted gay prostitute for an alleged
two-year affair and drug use, charges Haggard subsequently
admitted were at least partially true. In the classic
plank-in-your-own-eye lesson of Luke chapter 6, the white
Christian community had been shaking its head about Reynolds’s
situation just when they themselves were overcome with a much
more heinous scandal on a much larger scale, a revelation made
all the more ironic to the many members of Reynolds’ own church
who had matriculated to New Life because they’d suspected
Reynolds was gay.
The media being what it is, attempts were made to join the two
events and two pastors—the leading black pastor in town and the
leading white pastor in town—in scandal, which underscores the
most tragic part of anti-gay bigotry: the assumption that all
gay people are alike and that they all have negative or criminal
qualities to them. This thinking is easily as wrongheaded as
when all whites assume all blacks are stupid and lazy and less
qualified than they are. Now, I know quite a few stupid, lazy
blacks, but I also know quite a few stupid, lazy whites.
Since the tragic loss of his brother Bartone in 2002, Reynolds
has become an increasingly outspoken advocate of equal rights
for all persons—regardless of race, creed, or sexual
orientation. Over time, his focus has shifted almost exclusively
to the plight of the gay, lesbian and transgendered communities,
where Reynolds has time and again placed himself and his
reputation at risk in order to advocate for fair treatment to
persons routinely dismissed by Christian society. Reynolds could
have remained quietly in the closet, or he could have quietly
withdrawn from his pastorate without making any personal
declaration. But he chose instead to stand with these
communities and take the hit, knowing full well the consequences
of a public confession he was under no pressure to make,
Haggard, on the other hand, was frequently at the forefront of
anti-gay initiatives while concealing an alleged history of drug
use and homosexual conduct with a hired male escort. Haggard did
not choose to come forward but was dragged into the light as
part of failed cutthroat political maneuvering to pass same-sex
ballot initiatives in the state.
Attempts to link the two situations, in any way, are simply
unfair and make my case for the egregious-ness of gay bigotry.
One situation has absolutely nothing to do with the other.
Attempts to examine scriptures dealing with homosexuality are
met with suspicion and hostility, while scriptures endorsing
slavery [Ephesians 6:5-9], condemning divorce and remarriage
[Mark 10:11-12], and barring women from the pulpit [1 Timothy
2:11-14] are routinely examined and placed into a context that
allows us to alter the conduct those scriptures deal with. I
feel pressure to downplay my friendship with Reynolds even as my
own church joyfully decks the halls with Christmas trees and
lights and so forth—all of which I consider to be sinful
emulation of pagan rituals and in clear violation of God’s law
[I Cor 10:14, 20-21, Jer. 10:1-6, which explicitly warns against
decorating trees].
Any attempts to examine scriptures dealing with gay issues are
greeted with suspicion and hostility, rejecting even reasonable
exegetical study in favor of a line-by-line literal reading,
taken completely at face value, often out of context, and never
examined beyond the surface of the text itself: homosexuality is
a sin, homosexuals are sinners.
And I agree. Homosexuals are sinners. So are straight people. I
believe the Bible. Every word of it. Without error. Without
exception. Most especially the part that says we are all sinners
[Romans 3:23] and that Christ Jesus came into the world to save
sinners [1 Timothy 1:15]. Jesus gave His life for all of us.
Straight and gay.
Holy Scripture calls a great many, many, many things sin. But we
choose to seize on homosexuality as the greatest sin, which it
is not (the greatest sin is the sin of blaspheming the Holy
Spirit [Matthew 12:31]).
Sin is sin. There is no practical difference, in the eyes of
God, between homosexual practice and your exceeding the speed
limit as you rush to church. Both are sin. Both are punishable
by death. And both are forgiven by the blood shed on Calvary.
The difference, perhaps, being that exceeding the speed limit,
gossiping, lying and divorce are all willful acts—as is
homosexual practice. And it is important for us to make a
distinction between the homosexual person and the homosexual
act. At the end of the day, there should be no perceptible
difference between a celibate straight man and a celibate gay
man. Our complaint, as Christians, shouldn’t and really can’t
logically be about someone’s sexual orientation. But God’s law
should apply to everyone, equally and without diversion.
Gay people having sex outside of marriage are just as much in
error as straight people having sex outside of marriage. God
does not obligate or encourage us to fulfill our desires
(straight or gay). Those desires that violate His laws must be
controlled. The difference being that marriage is a covenant
offered only to heterosexual couples, which therefore apparently
restricts same-gender loving people to either lives of celibacy
or lives of sin. This, to me, seems to be the principle struggle
and challenge for gay Christians, who might find a little more
acceptance from the church if they pledged themselves to eternal
celibacy—to never act on their urges—which no other group of
people are obligated to do.
The homosexual person, however, is another matter. The
most credible stream of scientific thought today suggests that
homosexuality is genetic, that people are simply born gay. And,
if they are, the implication is that such a condition should be
regarded as a consequence of birth, like blindness, deafness,
nearsightedness, autism or other genetic defects. Gay people
would likely be offended to be branded as “defective,” but we
are all, in one way or another, defective. There simply are no
perfect people on the planet. The Bible teaches us that sin came
into the world through the first man [Romans 5:12] and
imperfection—defects—entered the world through that rebellion.
There is no Biblical teaching that either confirms or
contradicts that homosexuality is genetic. There is also no
Biblical teaching that confirms or denies that the world is
round and not flat. Just because the Bible does not specifically
speak to an issue doesn’t necessarily make anything true or
untrue.
But I have never met a man who just woke up one day and decided
to be gay. Decided, all things being otherwise equal, that he
would embrace a lifestyle that incites hatred and ostracization
from family, friends, community and even God. Most gay people
I’ve known arrived at the acceptance of their sexuality through
extended periods of misery, isolation, denial, emotional pain
and efforts to change. These people cried. These people
suffered. Being gay, being hated and rejected, was the very last
thing they ever wanted in their lives. Sin means, literally,
“error.” The Biblical and empirical evidence before us is that
God’s plan was for male and female, as there is no allowance for
the propagation of the species based on single-gender
relationships. However, I also believe God’s plan was for me to
see without glasses, and for congenital paraplegics to walk.
But we don’t demand that nearsighted people see without glasses.
We don’t demand paraplegics walk. We don’t call autism a
lifestyle choice. We accept scientific evidence that suggests
cerebral palsy is a birth defect (or, for that matter, that the
Earth is not flat).
But homosexuality, no. No matter how much scientific evidence
suggests otherwise, we selectively reject logic and science when
it suits us. Which, by the way, is the textbook definition of
bigotry. We hate these people because we want to hate them. We
want to hate them because we fear them. We fear them, we see
them as a threat because we’re afraid they might be us.
The net result is these people, who, as all people do,
desperately need Christ, are turned away from the very thing
they need most in their lives. If you’d grown up hearing only
hate from the church, you'd develop a hatred for the church,
too.

Other Peoples' Sin
So, does that mean we, as Christians, embrace homosexual
practice and gay marriage? I’m not at a place where the morality
of homosexual practice or gay marriage works for me. And I am
perhaps splitting hairs between showing Christian love to
homosexual persons while stopping short of endorsing homosexual
practice (see my essay Witch Hunt for my reasons).
I don’t endorse homosexuality. I also don’t endorse autism,
multiple sclerosis or cerebral palsy. I don’t endorse
near-sightedness. I don’t endorse allergies and hay fever. I
don’t endorse bad taste in clothes or tone deaf singing. I don’t
believe any of these things are part of God’s plan. God’s plan
for us, for mankind, was perfection. We messed that up.
Imperfection came into the world when sin entered into the
world. As a result, we are all born sinners—straight or gay. I
can’t repent of my near-sightedness. I doubt Benjamin Reynolds
can repent of his sexual orientation. But there will be no
restoration for him until he repents of being born in sin.
Repenting of being born in sin is what each of us needs to do,
even though being born into a sinful state is completely beyond
our control. And this is perhaps where my walk with Reynolds
hits a fork in the road: I believe he should repent. I believe
we should all repent. Reynolds's choice of language in his
statement, “I do not repent...” is undoubtedly the inciting
factor rallying the torch-bearing villagers of Colorado Springs.
Beyond that, I believe we should all strive to be who God has
ordained us to be. 45 years later, I’m still wearing glasses.
But I’m on my way to heaven. And so is Benjamin L. Reynolds.
Reynolds has a master’s degree in divinity. I’m going to assume,
therefore, that he’s seen a Bible and knows what’s in it. Having
neither a heaven nor hell to offer him, I am content to preach
what I believe to be true and let Benjamin— and Frank, Timmy,
Angelo, Maria, Tenikah and Charlene— make their own choices and
work out their own salvation [Phil. 2:12]. Condemning sin is one
thing. Condemning people is God’s job.
Pretending I don’t know the man just makes me another two-faced
phony bought off by other two-faced phonies who bang the Gay
drum all day long while capriciously sentencing millions of
young people to a life without hope, a life without God.
Condemning same-gender loving people who are earnestly seeking
God, who earnestly want to know Him and draw nearer to Him,
while doing nothing—absolutely nothing—to engage at-risk youth
is beyond criminal. If Focus, et. all., had even a marginal
footprint in the black community, if they were doing even
moderate work with our struggling churches (or, for that matter,
if the Over-Fed, Cadillac-with-fake-tire-on-trunk LayAbout
Pastors Club in the black church would get off their collective
fat rear ends and commit their resources to making true
disciples of Christ rather than competing for the same dwindling
handful of big hat church folk), I'd perhaps be more on board
with their conservative agenda.
Look, I’m never going to change your mind. You’re going to
believe whatever you believe. But if you read the book, there’s
a whole bunch more sins than homosexuality. At the very least,
you can be brave enough to condemn all sin—including the sin we
don't want to talk about. Beating up gays is safe. It scores
political points. It rallies the troops. And it seems to talk
about sin without actually talking about sin because it is Other
Peoples' Sin. Getting all righteous about Other Peoples' Sin is
easy. If we were really talking about actual sin instead of
pretend sin, we’d talk about the truer abomination among us: the
gross infestation of sin in our Christian lives.
When I get perfect, when I am morally and ethically and
genetically without flaw, I’ll throw the first rock at Benjamin
Reynolds. Short of that, condemning him is God’s business, not
mine.
Avoiding Samaria
By their own doctrine of eternal security, conservative
Baptists are forced to admit that Benjamin Reynolds is born
again. Whether you believe him right or wrong, saint or sinner,
by their own yardstick, we must accept the fact Benjamin
Reynolds is on his way to heaven. If Reynolds can now go places
we refuse to go and speak to people we refuse to speak to and
tell these folk about Jesus, I’d dare say that’s a good thing. A
true relationship with Jesus Christ is bound to straighten out
what’s bent about you. As the Holy Spirit indwells within you
and sanctifies and delivers you from sinful deeds, thoughts and
habits, God will reveal all truth to you [John 15:26]. We
so-called Christians don’t seem to trust that process in that
many of us would not ever preach at a church that openly accepts
gays without salting our message with anti-gay sentiment. We act
as the children of Israel did in Jesus’ time, scrupulously
avoiding the cursed town of Samaria.
In the days of Christ, the animosity between the Jews and the
Samaritans was so great that Jews routinely avoided passing
through Samaria when they traveled between Galilee and Judea.
They went an extra distance through the barren land of Perea on
the eastern side of the Jordan to avoid going through Samaria.
Yet Jesus rebuked His disciples for their hostility towards the
Samaritans [Luke 9:55-56], healed a Samaritan leper [Luke
17:16], honored a Samaritan for his hospitality [Luke 10:30-37],
praised a Samaritan for his gratitude [Luke 17:11-18], asked a
drink of a Samaritan woman [John 4:7], and preached to the
Samaritans [John 4:40-42]. Then, in Acts 1:8, Jesus challenged
His disciples to witness in Samaria. Phillip, a deacon, opened a
mission there [Acts 8:5].
These were people considered, by the church folk of the day, to
be ceremonially unclean. These were sinners. Outcasts. Hated and
unwelcome by God’s people. Now, substitute the word Homosexual
for the word Samaritan. We won’t talk to them. We won’t touch
them. We won’t eat with them. I’d better be careful what I
write, here. What I say. Who I’m seen with. What church I preach
at. Lord help me if I preach at a church that welcomes
Samaritans.
Throwing Stones
My favorite sermon of the moment is Reynolds’ “A Great Door Is
Opened Unto Me,” taken from 1st Corinthians wherein Pastor
Reynolds preaches about effectiveness and purpose in ministry.
He alludes to the meaning of time and place, in that the Apostle
Paul worked fruitlessly in Ephesus for three long years before
he started to see results from his efforts. Reynolds suggests
God will put us in a place that may not make sense to us now but
that fits perfectly with God’s plan, and that God has a way of
changing seasons such that our efforts, which seemed futile,
suddenly become relevant and effective. It is a sermon I know
almost word-for-word and it is, in many ways, a mantra for my
own Christian walk.
Does Reynolds’s sexual orientation now negate that message,
rendering it void? Should it? The hot-button issue of
homosexuality likely shudders many minds closed on the issue of
Reynolds’ pastorate, and, seemingly, all of the enormous good
and progressive teaching and all of the spiritual and
intellectual ground gained by Emmanuel under his tenure has
likely been quickly written off by those whose disposition is
simply that nothing a gay man does has any lasting value to the
kingdom of Heaven.
That notion is inconsistent with scripture. Regardless of your
position on these issues, regardless of whether you believe
Reynolds saint or sinner, Jesus taught, in Mark Chapter 9, that
works done in Christ’s name speak for themselves and endure
forever.
“Teacher,’ said John, “we saw a man driving out demons in your
name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.” “Do
not stop him,” Jesus said. “No one who does a miracle in my name
can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is
not against us is for us.”
The measure of a church’s success, as Pastor Reynolds points
out, is not head count but that church’s effectiveness. How many
lives changed? How many hungry fed? How many naked clothed? That
we succeed or fail is in the hands of the Lord, it is our
willingness, our desire to please Him that pleases Him.
Reynolds has invested a great deal of himself in attempting to
raise the standard of ministry and worship in the black church,
including a more enlightened and informed view of the very
complex issues of human sexuality.
These efforts have earned Emmanuel a reputation as the standard
bearer for excellence in ministry in the black church here, but
that reputation has also been often overshadowed by rumors about
Reynolds’s sexual orientation and divisive episodes such as
Reynolds’ welcoming a lesbian evangelist and accepting a van for
the assistance and relief of Hurricane Katrina survivors from
the Gay and Lesbian Fund.
Reynolds has stubbornly refused to change course or quiet down
about these issues. “I’m not going to back off of this,” he
said. “It may get me killed, but somebody has got to stand up
for what’s right.”
Reynolds’ truest and most unequivocal lesson to us is that
bigotry, by any other name, is still bigotry. As Christians,
especially as black Christians, we of all people certainly
understand bigotry and hatred. We, of all people, should be the
last to practice it.
Reynolds’ insistence on an open-door, whosoever-will policy for
Emmanuel cast him in a controversial light and forced the
Emmanuel membership to choose between simple acceptance of
traditional bias or difficult and often painful self-examination
of our motives and practices.
“This may be a surprise to some of you; but be assured that it
is no surprise to God,” Reynolds concluded. “God knew when he
called me, that He would use me for such a time as this.”
Christopher J. Priest
3 December 2006
editor@praisenet.org
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