Commingling Identities: A Work in Progress

“Write an article on my experience with faith and an LQBTQ+ identity,” they said. I thought, “this will be easy because I grew up going to church on Sundays and Wednesdays, attended a Christian high school, and graduated from a Christian college.” Boy, was I wrong.

My challenge was realizing that I don’t commingle these parts of my life. I feel like I’ve led two different lives - one before I knew I liked women and one as a lesbian. I didn’t intentionally choose to separate them, but this bifurcation was borne out of the pain and heartache I experienced accepting myself as a gay woman and finding the church didn’t accept me back.

Homosexuality is one of the few topics where pastors, churches, and other believers feel emboldened to tell a queer person that they’re a sinner and living a life that is an aberration of God’s law. I’ve sat in a pew with a pastor preaching that God only sanctions marriage between a man and a woman. I’ve been to a Bible study where my existence as a gay woman was acknowledged but deemed sinful. I’ve had close friends refuse to come to my house for a gathering because I lived with a woman and their faith called them to decline the invitation and not accept my “lifestyle” choice. (These friends graciously offered for me to come alone and visit them at their home, but I turned down their offer. It felt less than welcoming to know someone I loved was not allowed in their home for no other reason than we were in a relationship.)

These types of messages and actions from other believers keep me away from organized religion. Why would I want to attend a church or be around people who think I am sinful and not made in God’s image as a gay woman? How can I have true fellowship with a person who deems my marriage and family as a perversion or against God’s will? These statements and actions from others who follow Christ convey judgment and they ignore the fact that I, and other queer folks, were created in God’s image, just like they were.

At 20, when I realized I was attracted to women, I didn’t accept that I was gay. I did not label myself a lesbian and even went to conversion therapy for a couple of years. The conversion therapy I attended was at a large church and it focused, in part, on helping one realize homosexuality is wrong and building up one’s willpower to not act on those feelings through Bible studies, prayer and counseling (both group and individual). None of these actions helped me get “straight.” I was despondent and couldn’t reconcile my faith and gay identity until, after much prayer and conversations with God, He revealed to me that he accepts me as a gay woman. So, when a church, pastor or another believer condemns homosexuality or says it’s sinful, I take this as judgment. It’s an unsolicited opinion that is critical and tells me that the acceptance I received from God is wrong.

Before moving on, I’d like to address the elephant in the room - I know someone reading this may think they are a “true believer” and feel I have strayed from God’s word and am living a sinful life that will keep me from entering heaven. While I thank you for your concern, I stand in confidence that God loves me as a gay woman and he is not asking me to change, and I challenge you to love us in the LGBTQ+ community as radically and without judgment as Jesus did. The thought or belief that you are right and I am wrong about this topic is you making a judgment about my life that is not yours to make. In my opinion, the best way to represent Christ is to love all unconditionally and without judgment. Leave the judgment to God, where it belongs.

Unfortunately, my faith and identity struggles weren’t isolated to church. I realized behaviors I’d adopted to try to insulate me from experiencing the pain of being judged and rejected for being gay. Initially, I assumed all my Christian friends wouldn’t accept me so I let those relationships die. I didn’t ask them their opinion, which I regret. Instead, I walked away from them before they could reject me. As I got older and found more acceptance for who I was, I made a point of telling a new friend that I was gay. I believed if they knew this about me early on, then they had a chance to back away from me if my being gay was problematic for them and it wouldn’t hurt me as much because we were not that close yet.

Despite the struggles with my faith and gay identity (there’s shame in there too, but that’s for another article), it hasn’t been all negative. I am thankful to have had to grapple with these parts of me because it helped me accept others for who they are and love others in a way I wouldn’t have been able to without these challenges. I felt so broken and like an outcast at church and with other believers that I don’t want to cause someone else to feel that way. Also, my current relationships are deeper and more honest than they would have been otherwise. I am able to share and talk to others with my whole self, not just the non-gay parts that I think they would accept.

While I’m still cautious about organized religion, I see hope through pastors that love me and that I’ve seen first hand love others in the LGBTQ+ community unconditionally. I’ve known Pastor Kevin Robertson of Marina Christian Fellowship since I was in high school (which was a long time ago) and his continued love for me soothes and heals my soul, more than he will ever know. I’ve more recently met Pastor Karen Davis of First Christian Church Glendora and I see her demonstrating Christ’s love to everyone she encounters. Pastors Kevin and Karen and the congregations they build are the types I can one day see me being a part of.

My experience as a Christian and lesbian is still a work in progress, but that I can envision attending a church again means some healing has occurred. I hold out hope that one day my faith and LGBTQ identity will be integrated allowing me to experience a relationship with Jesus in all of my gayness.

Krista Granger can be found most mornings walking her dog while listening to an audio book. She and her wife live in Glendora with their youngest son.