Every one of us hold beliefs that serve as the foundation for how we walk through life. Our beliefs often shape our perception of the world and they make up a large part of who we are. These principles are born in a number of ways, from systemic taming to genuine life experiences that bring about strong convictions. We are all entitled to have our own opinions and our own doctrines that navigate how we approach our day to day. But are all doctrines to be accepted just because they are someone’s sincere beliefs, especially if those beliefs are rooted in religion?
I live in Texas. And here in this place, where home state pride runs deep in the veins of its inhabitants, strong beliefs and differing personalities are not few and far between. We are an incredibly diverse state, with a wide range of races, religions, and political affiliations across the almost three-hundred thousand square miles of space we take up. After the early 1990’s, the republicans became the dominant party in the state, with rural Texas counties accounting for the majority of conservative votes. However, in the latest Senate vote of 2018, Texas’ largest metropolitan areas all leaned democrat. We are seeing a tide shift as the four large cities continue to grow at a rapid pace, which leads me to ponder a conservative law that I have always found deeply unsettling: the Religious Liberty Bill.
Here in Texas, just in 2019, a bill was passed through the Texas Senate that outlaws government retaliation against someone based on his or her association with or support of a religious organization. What this means is that people of any faith are protected under the eyes of the law for exercising their religious beliefs. Now, I believe in equality and protection for all people – no matter if I agree with them or not. If I want to be protected as an LGBTQ+ person, then I should want the same for everyone in the United States. So, this Religious Liberty Bill is completely fair in that aspect. However, what is not fair, nor right or just, is when we allow people to use their religious beliefs as a means for discrimination, which is exactly what a written law such as this protects. The vernacular displayed in a bill like this leaves so much up for interpretation, and begs the question: is it okay to prioritize the protection of someone’s religious beliefs over the protection of another’s humanity?
For me, the answer is easy: absolutely not. This example in Texas is just that; one example. This trend of prioritizing religious freedom reaches across our entire nation and the conversation does not belong just inside the walls of our legislative orders. All too often, even outside of politics, the ethics and principles of those that consider themselves religious are prioritized over the safety and well-being of those in communities that may have a different set of beliefs. Not only do we tolerate discrimination from religious communities, we sometimes protect these wrong doings by lawfully promising that the government will not intervene should they chalk it up to simply practicing their religious freedom.
What does this mean for me, someone of the LGBTQ+ community? This means that in the state of Texas, a business owner has the right to make it known that I was fired solely because I am lesbian and in turn, they would not be pursued for discrimination should they claim they were exercising their religious beliefs. This means that should my wife and I ever choose to adopt, a private adoption agency could refuse to work with us under the notion that our lifestyle does not align with their faith doctrines. If I were to pursue legal retaliation for discrimination in either of these scenarios, the state would not protect me as an LGBTQ+ person but would uphold the legislative promise of no government intervention to protect religious liberties.
Because of this type of legislation and our country’s prioritization of religious freedom, the heavy burden of practicing grace and patience falls on the marginalized. We are forced to pivot, apologize, adjust, and hold our tongues for fear of disrespecting faithful communities. Religious groups are consistently speaking out against LGBTQ+, spewing hateful sentiments and showcasing their disapproval. Many disown their children if they are ever brave enough to come out while others send their child to conversion therapy in hopes they can “pray the gay away”. Do not let the fact that it is 2020 fool you into thinking this does not still exist. It may not be called conversion therapy at the front, but practices that have the agenda of converting an LGBTQ+ person to a straight person are absolutely still alive today. Even if they are not sent to therapy, LGBTQ+ youth are tortured with confusion about living out their truth due to outward rejection from their parents. Queer adults are still bending and breaking to attempt to mend their shattered relationships with their religious families.
All the while, gay people everywhere are asked to “tone it down” and be less of who we are. We are asked to pardon awful comments made by the elderly because that is simply “their generation”. We are expected to respect religious communities for their outward disapproval of our lifestyle, when in fact many of them do not return the favor in respecting how we live and love. We are instructed to not let discriminatory legislation or hateful language get under our skin while religious groups can say or do whatever they please and will likely be protected in the name of God. The problem lies in this fact: present day, it is completely accepted and palatable for someone in a faithful community to outwardly express that they believe same-gender love is sinful, while it is still considered taboo, or radical, to question these religious doctrines or live a life sans religious influence. Religious freedom is the priority, while LGBTQ+ protection is secondary. Why are the beliefs of a faithful person held to a higher standard of respect than the lifestyle of a queer person?
This brings me to a conversation that I want to discuss head on. The conversation surrounding a common saying that I continuously hear from communities of faith; the one that says “hate the sin, love the sinner.” This cliche is so often used when someone of a religious community is asked where they stand on homosexuality and is an ideal breeding ground for damaging an LGBTQ+ person who has been raised in a faithful household. If you have been submerged into any religious culture, you know that sin is synonymous with wrong-doing. This is etched into the hearts of youth at a young age – you are to avoid sin at all costs. And although it is repeatedly reminded that we will all sin, the known expectation is that you ask for forgiveness and work to avoid repeating the sins that tempt you.
I am acutely aware that many people of faith who use this phrase do not do so with the intent to be harmful. In fact, many of them believe this to be the perfect solution of staying within the boundaries of their faith while also expressing their love and acceptance of humanity. However, in accepting this statement as such, LGBTQ+ are yet again forced to shoulder the heavy pain that comes with hearing someone say (usually with a smile on their face): “Oh, I do not hate gay people. I just hate their sin.”
It is painful. Gut wrenching and deeply hurtful to hear a statement like this. What I want to offer is what I have just expressed — perspective on how this phrase is digested when it is said to an LGBTQ+ person. This type of “acceptance” is simply a loophole. A form of reverse psychology. No matter how hard you try and sugar coat it with sentiments about loving the sinner, there is no way that someone of the LGBTQ+ community will be convinced that their love is seen and respected when it is being categorized as sinful. Loving someone genuinely yet hating their lifestyle completely cannot live harmoniously in this scenario. As I mentioned before, there is no question in religion that sin is interchangeable with misconduct. If the Bible is a rule-book, sins are the lists of “do-nots”. An LGBTQ+ person’s lifestyle is inherent to who they are; it is their truth. Therefore, expressing acceptance of the person but not their “sinful” identity will never make someone of the LGBTQ+ community feel any ounce of love.
I know that this entry will not change the hearts of those that believe this deep in their bones. What I am hopeful for in writing this piece is that more people of faith will think hard before speaking sentiments such as these out loud; especially to people of the LGBTQ+ community or to those that love an LGBTQ+ person.
Consider this: someone in my family would never express their acceptance of your family member as a person, but openly share their disapproval of their sin for having sex out of wedlock. This would be wildly inappropriate and not met with feelings of grace or patience. So why should anyone feel that they can do the same to anyone in my family by swapping out the sex before marriage sin for the love between two people of the same gender sin? News flash: this has happened, more than once. And why is it an unspoken expectation that LGBTQ+ people and their families simply accept someone’s outward disapproval of the queer lifestyle, when the grace would not be returned should we outwardly disapprove of their religious beliefs?
Let me be clear. I do not wish to see a world in which religion does not exist. I believe it has an overwhelming message of good and offers a shining light of hope to so many. My dream, however, is that one day we will pay witness to a world in which all churches are affirming, all religious communities lead with genuine acceptance, and categorizing someone’s love as sinful is a thing of the past. We are, unfortunately, very far from living in a place such as this. So while we fight like hell to make that dream a reality, I have one plea. I urge and beg more people to consider that just because their beliefs are rooted in religion, that does not eliminate their ability to cause deep hurt. Your beliefs are yours to honor, but they do not get to claim freedom when they strip away my humanity.
If I am not mistaken, it is not called on anyone in the Bible to cause pain to another. I so often see this claim: condemning those that sin is an act of God’s work. But isn’t it also God’s work to ensure that you do not cause another to suffer? I challenge you with this question. When you look back on your life, what work would you rather be remembered for: condemning others in the name of your beliefs, or loving all in spite of them? My hope is that someday, all will choose the latter.
