Read This is a Book for Parents of Gay Kids: A Question & Answer Guide to Everyday Life Online
Authors: Dannielle Owens-Reid,Kristin Russo
Q:
How do I talk to my religious family and friends to help them understand?
A:
When talking to religious friends and family, regardless of how their religion intersects with their views on sexuality, it’s essential to remember that you aren’t trying to get them to believe what you believe; you are only trying to communicate that you love your child. So often, when we go into discussions like these, we want to come out of them with an earth-shattering success story; we want to explain to our siblings or parents or friends that they can support a person while maintaining their faith, and we want them to believe just as we do. This isn’t a fair expectation, and it’s also not the only way to have worthwhile and productive communication. It is okay to have differing beliefs. When it comes to religion, there is not one “right” answer. This should be the focus of any conversation that you have with others in regard to religion:
Our beliefs are ours alone, and no one should place judgment on which ones are right or wrong.
When it comes to readying yourself for this kind of exchange, a great motto is “expect the best and prepare for the worst.” There is never any telling where these conversations will lead us—sometimes the people we expect to be the most closed-minded are actually the people who help guide us through our own confusion with an open heart and mind. Sometimes the response is not as positive, and we are faced with the challenge of navigating a complex maze of Bible verses, moral tenets, and church teachings. Don’t go into these exchanges expecting that you, your child, or any of the things you have to say will be rejected. That kind of expectation sets a tone that can make those responses more likely. Be open, and don’t assume.
Preparing responses to specific issues that may arise will help facilitate the dialogue. If the person you are speaking with refers you to a particular Bible passage, or questions your abilities as a parent, it is good to be ready with your informed thoughts and feelings. In instances when you are being challenged, confidence in your own beliefs is often enough to guide the conversation in a relatively positive direction. There is no need to express your standpoint more than once or twice; try your best not to argue, but rather discuss your differing beliefs. Maybe the person you are speaking with will say something like, “I think it is your responsibility to push your child to turn away from this life.” You can
respond, in turn, with what you believe your responsibility as a parent entails. Perhaps you will say, “I understand that is your belief, but I believe that my responsibility as a parent is to love and support my child. That is what I plan to do, and I am happy to talk to you more about those decisions, but I think it is important to remember that we can both respect each other’s beliefs.” There are several resources, in print and online, cited at the end of this book to help you better understand various religious viewpoints. Review these materials before opening up a discussion. That preparedness will help you feel more confident with your words and help you better explain your own beliefs.
Lastly, it is important to be able to listen to the thoughts expressed by the other person, even though they may not align with your own. Just as you have fervent beliefs about your support for your child and your own faith, so, too, do others. In many instances, friends and family may cross the line and be too forceful about their beliefs solely because of how much they love your child and how afraid they are of what this may mean in the grand scheme of things. If you’re willing and able to listen to these concerns, you will be able to better understand the complexities of their viewpoint. Hearing what they are saying—particularly when you may not agree—will enable a much more powerful dialogue. Respond with honesty and compassion. Tell them that you love and support your child, and your first priority is their happiness. Be willing to answer questions, and, if they express interest, offer them the same resources
you have used to better understand things. Just as coming out cannot be contained within a single moment, these exchanges will not end after the first discussion. Be open to revisit these concerns, be as patient as possible, and aim to keep love at the forefront of your mind.
Q:
Will my child ever have a relationship with their faith?
A:
Just as your own relationship with faith has dips and bends, so, too, does your child’s. Faith is a personal experience that is different for all of us, and having a relationship to a higher power or a deeply rooted belief system is not off-limits to any person based on their sexuality. There are groups within every religion that practice their faith in celebration of all individuals, and who do not pass judgment on or close doors to those who identify as LGBTQ. Scholars across the globe have written numerous books detailing the ever-shifting interpretations and analyses of different religions, and there are many places of worship that warmly welcome LGBTQ individuals. Faith is available to anyone who seeks it.
You may find that your child stopped showing interest in their faith after coming out (or perhaps even before). This isn’t always a permanent shift. It is completely possible that your kid’s faith will remain strong and that they just need some time to readjust or reexamine their beliefs within this new context. If your
family attends a place of worship in which LGBTQ individuals are expected to change, or tells them they are not welcome, there is a chance that your child may feel shunned by their religion as a whole. This is a very valid reason for them to take a few steps back to reexamine their beliefs, but it doesn’t mean that they will never return to a different understanding of that religion. They may still want to find a place of worship, but one where they feel more comfortable. Talk to your child about what they are going through. Ask them about their feelings as they relate to religion, and listen to their experience. Speak to them about your own interpretation of faith, and help them find resources that can speak to their concerns. Perhaps you had a different struggle when it came to acceptance and religion, or maybe you saw a friend go through a similar challenge. Share those experiences, and keep the conversation open.
It is important not to push your child to practice their faith in the way that you desire. Your child may navigate in and out of faith throughout their lifetime, they may find that their journey strengthens their relationship to religion, or they may find that they do not want to practice any religion at all; it is important to remember that the decisions we make when it comes to faith are not informed exclusively by our sexuality. Regardless of where their path leads them, your child needs to be given the room to explore on their own. You can certainly share your feelings, and you can invite them to go to your place of worship with you, but if they say no, it is important to allow them space. Rather than accusing or
assuming (“Are you skipping church again this week?”), try saying something like, “If you would like to come to church with us, today or at any point, we would love to have you.” In trying to facilitate these conversations, you may find that your child does not want to have that discussion, or share their process with you. This can be very frustrating, but know that this isn’t a rejection—this is your child facing a mountain of thoughts and feelings, many of which are not easy for them to communicate. Ensure that they know you are always willing to talk, offer others who might be willing to talk to them, and remain patient.
A KID’S PERSPECTIVE
“I’m a gay Christian.”
I never expected that coming out would bring me closer to my faith, but that’s exactly what happened.
Despite (or maybe because of) my very religious upbringing in the Deep South, I could never quite “click” with Christianity. I went to a massive megachurch on Sundays, then a tiny rural youth group on Wednesday nights (because a girl I had a crush on attended), and I felt like a fraud in both environments. I didn’t weep during
The Passion of the Christ
like the other kids, and my heart was never warmed by the full baptisms on the Jumbotron screen above the rock-concert worship stage.
I felt disillusioned by all of the historical injustices Christianity had helped perpetrate, while at the same time, I was terrified of going to hell. Over and over I “recommitted” to Jesus, hoping to feel something. But all I felt were confusing “impure thoughts” that haunted me during morning worship, surrounded on all sides by thousands of reverent born-again Christians who I just knew would soon discover the fact that I wasn’t really one of them.
Even though I couldn’t connect with Christianity, I still felt fascinated by the essential mysteries of creation, human consciousness, and the afterlife. I would have checked the “spiritual, not religious” box throughout most of college and graduate school. I equated “religion” with dogma and hate, and “spirituality” with freedom and open-mindedness. Still, I longed for the ritual, symbolism, and community
of church. I wanted the daily practice of religion. I understand the world through words, and I wanted a text to refer to again and again for its beauty and metaphor.
After I came out, things started falling into place. I talked to a friend’s mother, who was a pastor, about alternate names for God. Instead of using the patriarchal term “Father,” I could use
Holy Parent, Protector, Guardian
, or
Timeless One
. I started reading the Bible and actually enjoying it. It helped to read the text with its historical context in mind, and through a heavily metaphorical lens. Truth is not necessarily fact, and vice versa.
I talked to my partner about her experiences growing up Presbyterian—the quietness of her religion, its emphasis on service and community. She asked if I wanted to go to church with her, and I was skeptical, to say the least. So we went to a Metropolitan Community Church (a Protestant denomination with an LGBTQ outreach emphasis) and my whole world changed. Families of all types sat in the pews. Inclusive language filled the hymnbooks. Loving gay couples lined up to take communion together and then pray with one of the ministers, arms locked around each other in a tight circle. For the first time, I took communion. The whole experience moved me to tears.
Soon after, I started attending a Bible study at MCC and learned more about what it meant to be a gay Christian. These men and women viewed Jesus as a protector, a champion of the weak, the Other, the outcast. They admired the Bible’s female heroes, and emphasized that there is more love and kindness in the Bible than hatred or dogma.
Sometimes people are surprised when I tell them I go to church, like being Christian and being gay are not compatible. I understand the
misconception. But coming out is the reason I began re-exploring Christianity. Coming out helped me finally accept and love my real self. There were no more secrets or shame, no more lying or fear. I finally felt like I knew myself, and that meant I could open up to even more love and connectedness, this time through the framework of religion.
I’m still learning what Christianity means to me, and trying to determine how to live at peace with its troubled history. For me, it is deeply satisfying to reclaim the religion used to oppress and terrify me as a younger person. And the good news is that things are changing very, very quickly, with more and more churches of all kinds welcoming gay members, marrying gay couples, and ordaining gay clergy.
Alyse, 26
THE BOTTOM LINE