Made Eunuchs: Celibacy and Gay Christians

an Essay

by John Fournelle

August 13th, 2014

For there are eunuchs who have been eunuchs from birth. And
there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by other people.
And there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs
because of the kingdom of heaven. Those who can accept it should
accept it. - Matthew 19:12, Common English Bible

Gay Christian celibacy is sexy…apparently.  I mean, it’s sexy in

the way that something is the new black; so fetch, tres chouette.
The Huffington Post Religion News Service recently published
a spot on Julie Rodgers and other gay Christians who have ‘come
out’ but refrain from any sort of sexual relations.  Rather, they
favor choosing the tale-as-old-as-time Christian practice of
celibacy. But celibacy has always remained the song-as-old-as-
rhyme option for Christians who wrestled with same-sex
attraction.  Everyone knew that lively bachelor with all of the girl
friends; everyone knew that spinster woman that was always too
busy for a man, but no one knew the hidden struggle they faced
[but oh did they talk!].

But now, gay Christians, they who have experienced liberation

from the oppression of their hidden sexuality, are still choosing the
celibate life.  Why? It is the belief of many religious traditions that
being gay in and of itself is not a sin, but choosing to act on it
constitutes sin. So, if someone’s gay but does not act on it, they’re
effectively ‘in the clear.’

A gay Christian who chooses to be celibate is not necessarily a bad

thing, but if it is a result of bad faith, it is a bad thing.  It is my
argument that this phenomenon is a result of bad faith, but it does
not have to be. I want to explore this phenomenon, critically
examining the context of the movement in hopes to unmask the
structural disenfranchisement levied upon LGBTQ Christians by
heteronormative Christianity.

2
My hope is not for LGBTQ Christians who have chosen the
celibate life to relent. Rather, it is my hope for them to recognize
the significance of their context and consciousness as LGBTQ
Christians. This is in contrast to the reception of a faith that
imposes its will upon the subject without consideration of them; in
this case heteronormative faith imposing demands upon LGBTQ
faith.  In short, I want LGBTQ Christians to become the co-authors
of their faith and not the passive inheritors of a mere straight-faith.
So, let us begin.

Wherefore Celibacy? Our Context

Acknowledging at least two phenomena is required for
understanding the option of celibacy as a public option for gay
Christians: the particular queer kairos we are in and the response of
the evangelical and/or fundamentalist consciousness.

I marked the downfall of Exodus International as a particularly

powerful event within this queer kairos, and it seems as though the
Huffington Post agrees. But how kairoi work— as clearly
evidenced by the Christ kairos, which some argue as
being the Kairos to end all kairoi— is that there are prophecies,
undercurrents, hints, glimmers, promises, and signs before the fact.
All the more so, —as kairoi work out as well—when we are in the
midst of one change occurs at a startling rate.  That’s what these
last few years have felt like; what an exciting time to live in!  It is
also an exciting time to come out, but we must always remember
the prophets who came before us, whose lives to whom we are
indebted.

But enter the evangelical and/or fundamentalist consciousness and

its response to the queer kairos. I need to differentiate the two by
the mechanism of relationality that each embody.  When
fundamentalism tries to understand something other than itself,
simply put: it doesn’t!  The fundamentalist’s relation to that-
which-is-other is polemical; it tries to ignore it, invalidate it, or
destroy it.

3
The evangelical, however, actually engages with the object of its
attempted understanding. However, the mode of understanding is
still couched in its own rules of the game. In understanding the
other, the evangelical baptizes the other into its own
understanding; the evangelical cannot understand the other without
establishing the rules, language, and conditions of their own
context as being the parameters of dialog.  By doing this, the
evangelical assures the dialog will result in the convincing of the
other into accepting the evangelical’s truth claims. In short, the
goal of evangelical apologetics is assimilation.

The Rules of the Language Game: Christian Sexual Identity

What have been the rules of the game for Christians-who-happen-
to-be-gay?  The article spells it out well: “leave their faith, ignore
their sexuality or try to change.” However, the article uplifts
Rodgers as “among those who embrace a different model: celibate
gay Christians, who seek to be true to both their sexuality and their
faith.”

I agree that Rodgers et al are seeking to remain ‘true to their faith,’

but are they being true to their sexuality?  For evangelical
apologetics, this question makes no sense; it does not fit within the
paradigm of the apologetic itself. As I have addressed elsewhere, a
common mode of navigating the Christian/gay identity problem is
through compatibilism, where the two identities are compatible in
so far as the Christian identity is superior to the gay identity.  But I
expand that argument: Christian identity is not simply superior to
sexual identity; it defines the parameters of the identities
subservient to it.

In the article, this language game is so explicit. A ‘former lesbian’

and “mother of four whose conversion story went viral after it was
published in Christianity Today,” Rosaria Butterfield’s linguistics
lesson illustrates this:

4
While she affirms celibate gay Christians, she says they should not
use “gay” as a descriptive adjective. “The job of the adjective is to
change the noun (…) [O]ur sexuality exists on a continuum, but
our Christianity does not.”

Oh but it does, Ms. Butterfield; Christianity has always existed on

continuums, flow charts, bubble graphs, et cetera.  There are
Catholics, Orthodox folk, Protestants; and within these phylums
there are classes upon orders upon families. Ms. Butterfield’s
claim is a prime example of the dynamics of the
evangelical/fundamentalist consciousness I illustrated earlier.
Viewing their faith as a culturally-immune pinnacle of revelation,
the evangelical consciousness becomes the imperial determiner of
reality—or at least the reality that really matters: the spiritual one.

But is it really Ms. Butterfield’s fault? By no means! But this is

illustrative of the power of religion, the power of any ideology,
upon the consciousness of its adherents. This is made all the more
fascinating when ideologies intersect, when identity allocations
and hierarchies are demanded.  In the case of Ms. Butterfield, her
ideology has dictated the rules of the game concerning the
relationship between her Christian and sexual identities. The
sexuality continuum is open, but the Christianity continuum is
closed. The possibility of entertaining the concept of sexuality
from a Christian standpoint is expressed, but the inverse is not.

Made Eunuchs by Other People: Choosing Celibacy

Rodgers reflects on the misunderstanding ‘both sides of the culture
war’ have on celibate gay Christians:

 “For those who have a more affirming position, it’s as if we’re

repressed, self-hated homophobes, encouraging the church to
stand in its position on sexuality. And conservative Christians think
that those who shift on sexuality are being rebellious.”

5
As a representative of the former positions, I don’t think
Rodgers et al are encouraging the church to stand in its position on
sexuality. Rather, I think the Church (note the big ‘C’) is
‘encouraging’ Rodgers et al to stand under the church’s position
on sexuality. This is because the Church—the ideological
institution and the institutional ideology historically engrained in
patriarchy, racism, and heteronormativity—has historically been
the structural disenfranchisement levied upon LGBTQ Christians.
By ignoring the cultural and contextual importance of persons,
religion can impose male-centered theology on women, white-
centered theology on persons of color, and heteronormative
theology on LGBTQ persons.

I believe this is the central problem of the gay Christian

conversation: the incommensurable relationship between their
sexuality and their faith/spirituality that is enforced by this
institutional entrenchment. This incommensurability must be
resolved. LGBTQ Christians are not fully liberated if they are not
liberated from heteronormative faith that makes LGBTQ persons
veritable eunuchs through the arrest of authenticity and freedom to
be. Whether this is enforced through a literal reading of Scripture
or a pastor’s admonition, a faith that is incongruous with the
experience of LGBTQ persons is not and cannot be the faith of
LGBTQ persons.

The best part of all of this is: it does not have to be! ‘Gay
Christians’ must recognize the importance their culture and context
has on their faith in additionto the importance the history of faith
has on LGBTQ culture and contexts.  The problem? You guessed
it, the incommensurability. For the LGBTQ Christian, the choice to
be celibate must come out from queer faith and spirituality, and not
from the heteronormative demands of some religions. LGBTQ
Christians, you are invited to your faith, a faith that takes seriously
the import of your experience as an LGBTQ person, and not in
spite of it. Navigating these queer invitations to Christian faith and

6
spirituality is part of the journey to which LGBTQ Christians are
liberated to respond.