God is Queer

Why the impact of queerness on my faith is so much bigger than just becoming LGBTQ+ affirming...

When I was around 18, I went to a massive summer evangelical Christian camp for teenagers. We slept in tents and spent our days in bible seminars and long charismatic worship sessions. I’d been before multiple times but as I got older I was often alone in my age group from our church and mostly there to support the younger teenagers who wanted to go. 

That summer one memory stands out. A girl asked me to go for a walk with her. She needed to talk. I remember doing two loops of the entire campsite in silence before she found the courage to tell me she liked girls.

I’m grateful in that moment that beyond all the conservative theology I was immersed in back then that one thing remained crystal clear: God’s love. I looped an arm through hers and we kept walking and I told her I didn’t really know what to say except that I was very very sure she was deeply and eternally loved. 

I wish I could go back. We didn’t keep in touch and I’ve no idea where she is now. I would tell her that she’s not loved despite her sexuality but it is part of what delights her Creator, part of the way she shows me Who Love Is. (And I’d read her Jay Hulme’s stunning poem Jesus at the Gay Bay which makes me cry every time I read it). 

I have people ask me how I became an LGBTQ+ affirming Christian relatively often. The topic is a hot one in the church, both in the UK and Denmark. Lines have been drawn and there is so much fear and anger and misunderstanding. 

And I’m happy to tell the story when I am asked. I talk about growing up in a church and family context that was non-affirming but also not particularly hateful in the way they spoke. It was more like a kind of aversion or pity or “this is for your own good” kind of theology. In a terribly British way, it felt like there was this sense of sorry, but it’s a sin, so what can we do? With a shrug and a turning away. Conversation over, with no hint of recognition of the pain and harm that was being inflicted. 

(There was also of course the strong undertone of any suggestion of enjoying our bodies being highly suspect, but I got that by the bucketload as a Christian teenage girl too). 

It reminded me too much of the way that same church spoke about women. Sorry, you want to use your gifts? I’m afraid that’s not allowed. That gift is only for men. You need to deny who you were born to be. It’s not compatible with belonging or believing here. 

My teen years and early twenties were absorbed in figuring out if I could remain Christian and still be a feminist. And then, the theological question of LGBTQ+ followed naturally on from there. I couldn’t unsee an image of a whole category of people being told they were wrong for simply being their truest created selves. And I was meeting LGBTQ+ people who I liked so much and who expanded my horizons.

(Sidenote: I did all the theological reading. I fully trust that the theology I hold is compatible with a Christian worldview. I can back it up with bible verses. I know conservatives can too. That’s a whole other conversation about what the bible is and how we approach it). 

I wish I had gotten here sooner, and I am also grateful my eyes were opened, when so many of my church peers remain deeply condemning of any expression of love and sexuality that isn’t in a very small box of cis-gender heterosexual marriage. 

The thing is though, that the story doesn’t end with becoming affirming, like I somehow ticked the box and that one is now taken care of. Inclusion alone as a goal keeps all the power firmly in the hands of the ones who somehow believe it is their right to invite or exclude. We still stand at the door, holding it open, pretending that is ours to do. When really we should be picking up the sledgehammers and taking aim at the walls themselves (I think Jesus would). 

The beautiful surprising (still, for me) truth is that I am being deeply impacted and changed by engaging with LGBTQ+ stories and theology. 

I bought a t-shirt this week for Copenhagen Pride which says “God is Queer” on it. It is hard for me to put words to how significant this is for me. I spend a lot of time talking about the Divine Feminine and what it means to use feminine pronouns for God, and yet all of that conversation is held for me in a bigger (and still growing) understanding of the queerness of God. 

A Queer God transcends the boundaries and boxes we try to put them in.

A Queer God is transformative in the most unexpected ways.

A Queer God disrupts binaries and hierarchies.

A Queer God creates communities of beautiful difference, inviting us to cross divisions that have previously defined us.

A Queer God invites us to embrace risk for the sake of creativity and community.

A Queer God shows us what Authentic Life looks like.

All of this gives me life. Me - a cis-gender woman married to a cis-gender man with two biological children. Our family is the stereotype of the nuclear family, and yet we are being liberated by our encounter with queerness in our friends and in our God. 

This is some of what I stumble to say when people ask me about being LGBTQ+ affirming as a Christian. It is not about in and out (although I’ll keep using what power I have to make the church a truly inclusive space). It is not even about what we do with our bodies. It is about how astoundingly liberating it is to discover that God is not Straight. 

With my daughter at Copenhagen Pride 2024.

I wonder how your mind, heart, body and soul respond to this?

I know, for those of us who grew up in a non-affirming faith context, this can be a hard topic to wrestle with. It is tied up with so many other conversations about belief and the bible and creation and authority and identity. For many, it is the topic that triggered a massive deconstruction. I’m here to encourage you to keep leaning in every time you hear Love’s invitation!

I also recognise that I am on a journey. In a year’s time and the year after that I hope I will have learnt more, experienced more, have gained more understanding. I am purposefully seeking out queer guides and teachers to “sit at the feet of”. But I am excited for all it is unfolding within me.

P.S. Want to talk about this more? I have spaces open for in-person spiritual direction in Copenhagen, or you could try spiritual direction the “old-fashioned” way with my Sacred Letters offering.