Faith, homophobia and homoantagonism.

Weighed in the balance, and found wanting.

“I’m not homophobic! I love everyone, but that doesn’t change the fact that homosexual activity is clearly sinful according to the Bible and I’m not about to condone persistent, sinful activity. And now you’re suggesting I should endorse it . . . in the church!”

      I’m sure this argument is familiar to all Christians who have lived through the stresses in their congregation as a result of the same-sex “debate,” for lack of a better word. It’s a valid argument if one lives by the premise that “the book” is the only legitimate moral authority for all time and that God himself is its author.

      It may be true that an individual can be both loving in the best sense of the Biblical record, and intolerant of same-sex unions in the church. At the same time its impossible, then, to escape the judgment that—generous and loving as an individual might be—the religion he/she clings to IS homophobic. It’s a point Neil McDonald makes in a recent commentary on the Orlando massacre of June 12, 2016. He points out that the three monotheistic religions—Christian, Jewish and Islamic—all provide defenses in their sacred writings for the rejection of same-sex union. Even the summary execution of those giving in to homosexual desire can, and has been, justified on religious grounds.

      (Exploring what’s been discovered about gender attitudes and the place of LGBTQ persons in indigenous cultures can be illuminating. If this interests you, you might start your exploration with a Wikipedia article on the subject.)

      Far be it from me to attempt an analysis of Omar Mateen’s motives for walking into a gay bar and killing as many people as he could. His father said that it was his reaction of repugnance at seeing men kissing that triggered the attack; that it wasn’t motivated by his religion at all. It’s difficult to see how growing up in a homophobic religious atmosphere can be excused as a non-contributor to such a horrible act. All of us are apprehensive of change, of unexplained differences. It’s surely in the environment in which we’re nurtured into adulthood that our most visceral fears and prejudices are shaped.

      The Mayo Clinic website defines phobia as “. . . an overwhelming and unreasonable fear of an object or situation that poses little real danger but provokes anxiety and avoidance.” Whether or not the word, homophobia, is useful in talking about the aversion to LGBTQ relationships is something I’ve often wondered about. Perhaps homoantagonistic would be a more meaningful term for those who need to marginalize or eliminate people born with non-typical gender characteristics. Certainly the Orlando massacre underlines the reason for all non-typical gender persons to be very afraid; “poses little real danger” excludes their fears from Mayo’s phobia definition.

      To call civilians in a battle zone phobic would be absurd.

      Surely there will be those who will cheer Mateen’s horrible actions. There will be those who see it as a political opportunity. Surely there will be those who will reinterpret the event as proof of a Muslim conspiracy to defeat Christianity and/or American values. But one fact should not be overlooked: Mateen was an American. He grew up and was educated in America, not in Syria or Iraq. I suspect that this ingredient in the recipe that baked up a Mateen will be largely ignored, largely left unresolved.

      He was able, after all, to purchase the means for massacring many people in a single action as easily as one buys birthday balloons.

      My Christian faith has traditionally been both homophobic and homoantagonistic. My personal stance is that its our duty to help Christianity, Islam and Jewry to get past this mighty flaw in their makeup, otherwise their calling for peace, justice and mercy will become a laughingstock and the good they do will be buried under repeated recitings of their intolerance and intransigence.

      The word of God is not a done deal; it’s being written all the time—by us. We’re in danger of getting it all wrong . . . again.