The NYT had a revealing piece this morning about Matthew Vines—you heard about him here first—and the work he's doing. Vines, of course, is the young evangelical Christian who dropped out of Harvard to study what the Bible actually says about homosexuality. He's since dedicated his life (or at least his 20s) to trying to help evangelical Christians escape from the corner that they've painted themselves into:

As acceptance of same-sex marriage has swept the country and as the Supreme Court prepares to release a landmark decision on the issue, a wide variety of evangelical churches, colleges and ministries are having the kinds of frank discussions about homosexuality that many of them say they had never had before. Youth ministers and chaplains are studying how to respond to students struggling with their sexual identities. Governing boards are re-examining their policies on allowing openly gay people in Bible studies. And pastors are preaching and writing about, rather than ignoring, the recent books arguing that the Bible can be read to support same-sex marriage. Few are dropping their opposition. But aware that they are seen by many as bigots, some evangelical leaders are trying to figure out how to stand firm without alienating the increasing share of Americans—especially younger ones—who know gay people and support gay rights, or who may themselves come out as gay.

Why are evangelical churches, colleges, and ministries having frank discussions about homosexuality these days? Not because they want to. They're doing it because they have to. "God Hates Fags" isn't selling well anymore, and preachers have realized that they can't bash away at the gays the way they used to (and would still like to) without alienating congregants and their checkbooks. But church leaders can't drop their "opposition" to homosexuality without looking like hypocrites, so... they'll sit and talk with Matthew, they'll treat him with respect, and they'll "deemphasize" homophobia. Again, because they have no choice: Millennials are abandoning churches in droves and homophobia is a huge factor in their exodus.

Two other things about the piece...

The encounter at Biola was arranged by the Rev. Caleb Kaltenbach, lead pastor at Discovery Church in Simi Valley.... Mr. Kaltenbach, 37, has his own singular story about coming to grips with the issue of homosexuality. His parents divorced when he was 2, and he was raised in Missouri in the 1980s and ’90s in two homes: that of his lesbian mother and her partner, and that of his father—who, he later learned, is also gay. As a child, Mr. Kaltenbach attended a gay rights march with his mother, and he recalls protesters yelling that God condemned the marchers and throwing urine on them. (His book, “Messy Grace,” part memoir and part advice for pastors on ministering to gays, will be published this year.) He says evangelicals should welcome gay people with “acceptance, but not approval.” Openly gay couples attend his church, he said, but are not allowed to serve on the leadership board.

Your kid growing up to be an evangelical preacher who thinks your love for your same-sex partner is sinful—having a kid like Reverend Kaltenbach is the worst nightmare of gay and lesbian parents everywhere.

And finally....

They all agreed that, in the Bible, God did not destroy Sodom and Gomorrah because of sodomy, but because the residents were guilty of arrogance and greed. But other passages were not so easily dismissed. “In Romans 1,” Mr. Kaltenbach said, “I cannot get past where Paul says that the actual act of having sex with someone of the same gender is a sin. I can’t get past that. And believe me, with two parents who are gay, you’ve got to know I tried, even exegetically through the Greek.”

Mr. Vines, bearded and wearing a sport jacket and dress shoes, said the apostle Paul spoke in an era when there was no model of mutually loving, monogamous same-sex relationships. He asked, “Do you see any moral distinction between a lust-filled encounter and a long-term relationship, when you approach the text?”

First... "lust-filled" and "long-term" aren't mutually exclusive relationship traits.

Second... does Matthew Vines, gay man, believe that only monogamous relationships are moral or loving or deserving of the protections and dignity of civil marriage? I wrote him and asked:

Congrats on the NYT piece today. I have a question for you. I don’t expect you to go to bat with Evangelical leaders for loving, committed non-monogamous same-sex couples. But your framing of acceptable same-sex relationships, acceptable to the pastors in the room at least, was "loving, committed, monogamous." That frame excludes most gay male couples. Loving, yes. Committed, yes. Monogamous? Not typically. I'm curious what you think of non-monogamous male couples, aka most male couples. Are we doing it (marriage) wrong? Also… that preacher with TWO sets of gay parents? Man, i feel bad for his moms and his dads. —Dan

Matthew wrote back...

Hey, Dan,

Great to hear from you, and thank you!

And thanks for your question, too. A couple thoughts. One is that I think there is a definitely a difference between the concepts of monogamy and commitment. It is possible to be in a loving, committed relationship that is non-monogamous, as you know from experience, and I think you've made important points about some of the pitfalls of standard approaches to monogamy. Your case that what matters most is stability, and that stability is sometimes improved by the mutual allowance of non-monogamy, is a serious one and one that I continue to think about.

At the same time, I am speaking to my community on my community's terms, and that means approaching things not just practically but also theologically. Now, for people who think the whole concept of written revelation/theology is ridiculous... well, I get that, I do. But from the standpoint of interpreting the Bible, I think there is a strong case to be made in terms of understanding sex as the sign and seal of a lifelong covenant, and I understand why that's so important to many Christians (especially evangelicals). I see a lot of value in that, and partly because that's the value system I was raised with, I really do want to do my best to live that out even though I'm gay. Partly for theological reasons, and also partly for reasons of community: that is the standard for everyone else in these communities that (for better or worse) I've always been a part of, so I don't want to ask them to change the standard for everyone, but simply to create the space for LGBT people who want to stick around to be able to do so and be supported within those same standards.

However, it's also true that, for all of the value that I think there is within conservative Christians' views on sexual ethics, there have been a lot of terrible things that have been tied in with them as well. What's commonly called "purity culture" has often taught young women in particular that they are "damaged goods" if they have sex before marriage, and that they should feel shame for depriving their future husband of their virginity. These ideas are toxic and I think need to be strongly resisted. I have increasingly been talking about these issues almost every time the subject of sexual ethics is broached in evangelical conversations I'm a part of. Men have, for ages, talked about women's bodies as though they are in some way rightfully men's, and in every way that is reflected in Christian theology/teachings specifically, I think it should be changed.

Moreover, there is the practical question. Ideals are great, but at the end of the day, that isn't the world people live in. Is it possible for two men who are dating for, say, two years to abstain from sex in a way that is actually healthy, or is the male sex drive simply too strong to make that workable even for those who want to do that? Honestly, I don't fully know. I have some friends for whom the answer would seem to be yes, and others where the answer would seem to be no. Most of those in the latter group are already faced with a severe lack of support from their families and communities, so the last thing I want to do is deploy an ideal in a way that is hopelessly oppressive or ostracizing to them in the midst of that. It is so easy to use ideals of "sexual purity" as bludgeons to humiliate, shame, and exclude, and I think being vigilant not to perpetuate that is probably the most important thing in these conversations.

So in closing (ha, this got long), I really want to do my best to try to live out the values I've had since I was a kid, and those do include monogamy. And I also want to do my best to try to create church communities that actually give LGBTQ people 100% support for their relationships along the way. My hope is that, with sufficient support from family/church/etc., the kind of theological ideal that I described will end up being doable and healthy for those who want to live it out. But I'm also aware that I don't know for sure whether that can actually work out, and my hope may be misplaced. Maybe even with much greater support, there would be a large enough gap between the ideal and the practical that it calls into question the legitimacy of the ideal. I hope that won't be the case, but I want to maintain an openness to learning & development along the way, as well as a posture of respect for those on different paths who are figuring out how to make things work in their contexts.

Ha, sorry if that was too wordy. I am open to whatever thoughts/objections/responses you might have, and thanks again for this note!

Matthew

UPDATE: A clarification from Matthew Vines...

To be clear about where I’m coming from: I am very much committed to monogamy and to reserving sex for marriage, both personally and in what I am asking churches to affirm. And while I recognize that monogamy and commitment don’t go together for all couples, I think they should go together based on my religious beliefs. But I don’t want to impose those beliefs on anyone or go around telling people that they’re doing marriage “wrong." Instead, I want to listen to others’ perspectives with respect and humility, as there is a lot I don’t know.

I want to take critiques of my views seriously and wrestle with the best ideas and arguments that others have. These are such sensitive issues that I want to discuss them with as much gentleness and relational care as I can. At the same time, for the theological reasons I outlined, I do think that monogamy is a foundational norm for Christians, and I can’t envision that changing. But I want to see more Christians engage these conversations with the sensitivity and grace that I think they deserve.