Don’t Say Gay: Against an Unnatural & Unhelpful Categorization
Over at First Things, Joshua Gonnerman recently argued that Dan Savage was right in his admonition of Christians today for not being sufficiently loving towards “gay people.” And in a follow-up essay, Gonnerman went on to advocate for the cultivation of a “gay Christian” identity as one important avenue for overcoming this failure to love.
While I appreciate Gonnerman’s concern for correcting this very real immorality within our Christian flock, and while I am sympathetic to his desire to strengthen the bonds of community amongst those who struggle here, I believe his proposed solution is both deeply metaphysically flawed, and ultimately counterproductive to our Christian cause. Rather than acknowledging and baptizing this “gay identity,” we ought instead to discard it completely, for it has no natural basis in reality, and in the end it only hinders the solidarity we ought to be cultivating with these and all our Christian brethren.
The theoretical problem with the “gay identity” language our culture is so bent on selling us, is that such diction treats a random, non-natural property as natural, as essential, and as central to man’s very self. Gonnerman explicates the present objection as a complaint against the scope of the identity label: “’You can’t identify as gay,’ many said, ‘because to do so is to say that the label ‘gay’ encompasses you in your totality.’” But the real problem with this identity language is not that it implies comprehensiveness, but rather that it implies naturalness. The point is not that “gayness” isn’t all-encompassing; no party to the debate thinks that it is. The point is that “gayness” is not in any way natural, i.e., that a sexual orientation is not an essential property of man in virtue of his humanity. It is merely a reductionistic cultural construct that mistakenly treats a complicated, dynamic, and chance set of tendencies, attractions, and temptations as a simple, static, and basic fact about man’s nature.
Gonnerman rightly notes that a certain linguistic debate has taken center stage in Christian conversations about how to correctly respond to the culture’s “gay identity” line. Our thinkers now argue heatedly and frequently about what term we ought to employ to categorize this particular group of people: whether “gay” is acceptable or perhaps takes it all a bit too lightly, whether “homosexual” is preferable because of its impartial clinical connotation and more traditional roots, or whether “same-sex attracted” is best since it clearly distinguishes between a basic human identity and merely a sinful human tendency. But while those who debate this terminological question no doubt have the best of intentions, their conversation is inherently erroneous from the get-go. For any discussion about how to categorize this group necessarily presumes that we indeed ought to categorize this group. This, I believe, is a crucially mistaken premise.
In truth, the collection of people who struggle here are no more a natural kind than those who experience temptations to theft, or gambling, or dishonesty, or anything else. We don’t have a nice, neat, concise way of referring to any of those categories of people, mostly because we rarely do refer to that random collection of people as a group. None of them, of course, are natural kinds. And it should be the same here. In adopting a term for this set of people, any term, we make the group out to be something more than a chance collection of folks who happen to struggle with, amongst many other things, temptations against chastity with members of the same sex. We perpetuate the central misunderstanding of the culture here by willingly grouping them as one, as though they together formed a natural kind in virtue of this random property.
At times when, as in the case of the present discussion, it becomes necessary to speak specifically of this set of people, I recommend exceedingly messy and cumbersome turns of phrase. The clumsiness of the diction hammers home the point that this is not a natural group in any sense. Perhaps we could try something along the lines of “all those men or women who have, either at one time in their life or on a more consistent basis, been tempted to some sort of sexual immorality with another person of the same sex,” or some such thing. And the messiness of the phrasing should also deter us from referring to this chance collection of people more frequently than we ought to, which, I suspect, would be not very frequently at all. Blanket statements about this random group do little to advance our cause, and much to cement the flawed ways of thinking that benefit the opposing cause of our culture.
In addition to the metaphysical errors of Gonnerman’s position and their unfortunate linguistic offspring, there is also a practical, pastoral reason to discard all notions of “gay identity.” Our ultimate goal here, according to Gonnerman, should be to welcome into our Christian family all those who struggle with this temptation and thereby feel alienated as a result. I quite agree with Gonnerman on this point; that is how Christ would treat them, and so that is precisely how we should too. But notice, there is no essential difference there in how we ought to treat those who are burdened with this particular temptation as opposed to any other. After all, we should welcome all people, all struggling sinners, into our familial Christian community. And by separating this particular set of postlapsarian men off from the rest, we hinder the family ties we were meant to cultivate with them. Grouping them off in our mentality, we also set them apart in reality, creating a division that is antithetical to the solidarity and friendship they need.
Having myself had many friends who struggled violently against this temptation, I can say from experience that a central facet of the struggle involves battling feelings of extreme isolation. They, like all the rest of us, intensely desire to love and be loved. They long for intimacy, but find a wall separating them from those who cannot empathize with their burden. My suggestion here is simply that we should tear down this wall, for it has no natural basis and serves only to intensify their sense of alienation. Perhaps I do not struggle with this particular temptation on any kind of regular basis, but so what? I struggle with all sorts of things my friends may not; that doesn’t require me to construct mental barricades between us.
We are all Fallen. It is in that common human condition, and in our common Christian answer to it, that we ought to build up our familial community. There is, no doubt, plenty of diversity and otherness we will have to confront along the way, but let’s not multiply our differences needlessly, or intensify their seriousness just because the culture commands us to.
Gonnerman writes that, “while there are interesting questions about whether it is good that sexual identity exists in our culture, the simple fact is that it does exist.” But whether such cultural imports are good is precisely the question we ought to be asking. If such notions of identity reflected reality and furthered our Christian goal, then perhaps we would be right to adopt them ourselves. But, as I have argued, they ultimately do neither of these things. Such identity confusion is both metaphysically untenable and pastorally counterproductive.
So I come at last to a simple challenge to my Christian brethren: Please, don’t say “gay.” Really, don’t say anything to reinforce the mistaken idea that there is some essential difference between “us” and “them.” Instead, go out and love and befriend these individuals as you would any other. For they are no different than any other. They are your brothers and sisters in Christ, and however much of a struggle this is for them, it is no different in kind from any of the rest of our struggles. Be Christ to them, and let them be Christ to you. Because guess what: You’re broken too.







