Fresh on the back of Iain Dale’s marvellous example of how to present no evidence whatsoever of a scientific claim, here are two pieces I read yesterday on sexual identity. First, from a Christian perspective.
My gay confidence turned to skepticism only a few months later. It was through a series of visions that I let go of my gay relationship longing to continue to walk with Jesus. It was not a simple letting go, it was a grueling agony that took over two months to pray through and continued to gain more clarity on. It was a desperate clawing at my inner core that I learned to let go of. I have been celibate for the twenty some odd years of my life. I can handle another three quarters of my life living as such.
With so much confusion, my prayers quickly turned to anger because I had no idea what was happening.Â My questions were met with my roommatesâ€™ laughter as our discussions turned into the different women I started to become attracted to. Apparently I blushed as I unconsciously flirted with the woman behind the ice cream counter with my roommate commenting, â€œShe was digging on some Nate.â€
I started conversations with others who have experienced the same. I have met with men, on the same path as myself, who are dating women and those who are already in heterosexual marriages. I know I am not alone with not fitting in either of the â€œsidesâ€ that a lot of homosexuals identify with.
I had coffee with my friend who questioned this â€œsexual transformationâ€ that I started having over a year ago. Was it a psychological longing that just progressed to change? My response was, â€œnoâ€ because over a year ago I was ready to date another male, all the while, I looked for gay affirming churches. Years ago, a conversation about a guy kissing a girl was usually met with my quick comment of â€œThatâ€™s gross.â€
It was definitely not a psychological longing that changed me, but Christ who did. He later commented that I seemed at ease with who I am compared to his other friend who tried to go â€œstraight,â€ but continues to wrestle with depression and anxiety stemming from sexuality issues.
What changed for me? I stopped worshipping the adjective I placed in front of being a Christian. I am neither a gay or straight Christian.Â Although, I can relate to such adjectives to some degree. I stopped focusing on what any side wanted me to define myself by. I started to let go of labels. I stopped focusing on temptations and desires.Â I had to remove self proclaiming prophecies of this is â€œwho I was born asâ€ and started declaring â€œwho I am reborn into.â€Â A person, a friend and a child of God. It was that simple.
Do I expect everyone to have the same experience?Â No.
Do I still wrestle with my orientation?Â Yes.
Does it cause doubt in what God has spoken over me?Â No.
I remember the coffee table conversation that I have become at ease with what He has already done in my life. I learned to let go of what the world, both Christian and secular, expects of me when handling certain issuesâ€¦
I am not and will never again put an â€œadjectiveâ€ in my God-given identity.
To follow that, from a secular perspective.
So the message is clear: nature makes homosexuals (though weâ€™re not quite sure how, yet), so denying homosexuals rights is wrong. The pervasiveness of this message throughout our culture means that even those who remain â€˜enemiesâ€™ on issues such as gay marriage can generally be won over to the idea of gayness being innate. So, all in all, itâ€™s been a victory for gay-rights proponents.
All good, right? Well, maybe not. The first issue is the massive amount of ground that the naturalness argument concedes to the opponents of gay rights. It is understandable to want to rebut the â€˜being gay isnâ€™t naturalâ€™ argument, but the way many gay-rights campaigners have chosen to do so commits the exact same error as their opponents: the mistaken idea that morality has anything to do with whatâ€™s natural. Change the subject of the opening quote above to, say, cannibalism, and the idea that we should look to nature and animals as a guide to what humans should be doing becomes obviously absurd. Being gayâ€™s unnatural? So what?
Of course, the naturalness of homosexuality isnâ€™t the only reason gay-rights campaigners think itâ€™s okay. But itâ€™s clearly the idea that has the most cultural purchase today. The idea that people should be free to organise their lives as they see fit is often sacrificed at the altar of the argument: â€˜they canâ€™t help it.â€™
The dominance of the naturalness argument means that those who undermine it are at strong risk of censure.Â Sex and the CityÂ star Cynthia Nixon was criticised and described as â€˜incredibly irresponsibleâ€™ for daring to suggest that she, personally, had chosen to be gay. â€˜Glad to be Gayâ€™ singer Tom Robinson faced anger and accusations of betrayal when he fell in love and married a woman in the early 1980s. We tie ourselves in knots trying to explain away those who â€˜change teamsâ€™, having spent most of their lives happily heterosexual or homosexual. We provide them with excuses: perhaps they were naturally bisexual all along, or gay but in denial? Anything to avoid having to suggest that there might be an element of choice in sexuality.
Perhaps gay-rights campaigners are right to be worried. Look back at that quote from the Bishop of Salisbury: he is saying that gay marriage is okay â€˜unless we think that homosexuality is a choiceâ€™. Well, thanks, bishop: rights for gays unless they actuallyÂ wantÂ to be gay. This is the attitude the pro-gay naturalness argument seeks to cosy up to; and, in the process, it tries to make homosexual behaviour less threatening to social mores. Gays are to be objects of pity rather than of hatred. This was particularly important when fighting Section 28 (the Eighties law against promoting homosexuality) to assure those fearful of homosexuality that being taught about it couldnâ€™t possibly lead to someone choosing to be gay.
Gone is the idea that the capacity to choose to be gay might be something positive, that itâ€™s good that people no longer have to live in a way that is restricted by crude biological and social roles if they donâ€™t want to. Rather than try to create a society in which people are free to love who they want, the naturalness argument has only served to create more boxes in which to place people, to define their roles. Youâ€™re straight, sheâ€™s a lesbian, heâ€™s bisexual â€“ and woe betide those who wander off the narrow path ascribed to them, lest they undermine the rights so precariously won.
The â€˜born this wayâ€™ argument completely erases the human social world. It ignores the fact that homosexual behaviour has taken on many forms throughout history and through different societies. It downplays our ability to control our own lives, or our ability to reshape our society. It views people (ironically, gays in particular) as unthinking beasts, slaves to their nature-given desires. And, as such, it chimes with the deterministic temper of our times. It suggests that we are fated to be who we are, that we have no capacity forÂ self-determination.
For a young person experiencing homosexual desire for the first time, to want to blame it on nature is perhaps understandable in the face of a society in which being gay can still carry risks and condemnation. But to make that reaction to fear a cornerstone of a rights movement is wrongheaded – it is our duty to demand something more; to try to shape a society in which people can and do experience their sexuality as choices freely made, rather than burdens foisted upon them.
Love that sentiment – “unthinking beasts, slaves to their nature-given desires”. Who wants to be that? But of course, to deny that is to deny that orientation dictates identity or activity. Tough call.