Walking My Talk

It wasn't too long ago that I wrote about a book I was reading that had the potential to change the way I look at a lot of things (Greg Boyd's "The Myth Of A Christian Nation"). As a part of that post I mentioned my regret at telling a gay family member that their partner was not welcome at our family camping trip. I thought that allowing the partner to join us might have given us a chance to share the love of God with them, rather than "shutting out the sinners" which I couldn't see Jesus doing. By the time I wrote that post the couple had split up, so I was really writing in retrospect. Theoretical. Hypothetically.

Yesterday that same family member told us that they've met someone new, they're dating again, and that this is the most wonderful person you could ever hope to meet. Good grief.

Needless to say, we're distressed by this news. And it's so incredibly awkward! We want to be happy for them, because they've found someone who makes them happy. But how can we be?

We want to be supportive, but we can't be. I haven't yet figured out how to even be in the same city without either appearing to bless their relationship, or running them off with a long pointy finger. Family is supposed to be a safe place, away from the battle, where you can find unconditional love, comfort and support. I think we need to be that place, and I think we have been. But man, it's getting tough.

It would be the easiest thing in the world (for a part of me) to forget about the words I wrote in that other post, and whip out that long pointy finger. But we also shun the "God hates fags!" model of evangelism. I think my challenge will be to find a way to *not* endorse their lifestyle, while at the same time leaving the light on for them at the door to heaven.