What do Real Christians Really Believe About Homosexuality?

“Does God hate gays?” a loved one was recently asked.  As I speed through my last phase of life, I want to provide the Bible’s answer and perhaps to correct misperceptions.  I will give a direct, one-word answer to what real Christian’s really believe, but first I want to share an allegory.  You will never understand the perspective of God and his people if you do not understand this short story.  Mutual understanding can be really hard work.  But for any who truly want to know and are willing to pause in airplane mode for 5 or 10 minutes, I invite you to consider this story.  The essence of life is as a river called My Way.  

The River Called ‘My Way'

Every one of us is floating, rowing or motoring down a wide river in a variety of boats, yachts, and innertubes.  Some travelers are on the most luxurious cruisers, drinking, eating and laughing with friends. Others are giving their full concentration to aimlessly and vigorously bail out leaky rowboats.  But whatever the experience, there is one looming problem:  Around several bends downstream lies a treacherous waterfall.  

Two unique groups immediately stand out.  One cheerful cluster sits, stands, or sunbathes on a party barge.  They all wear t-shirts with “GOD’S WAY” printed on the front.  Sometimes they invite other boaters on board or to catch a line and raft up.  But more often they throw t-shirts, giving them away to any who will take one.  

A second group in view is huddled in a tight circle on the edge of the river bank in the land called God’s Way.  They are wearing the same GOD’S WAY t-shirts as those on the barge.  If someone breaks into their circle they will hear criticism of the boats.  While they are facing inwards, sometimes they turn and throw rocks at those on the river.  In fact, there are a number of these small groups and they also throw rocks at each other.  They appear safely on the bank, but as I look closely, they are seated on ferries in the shallows.  Their cable has snapped and they are slowly and imperceptibly drifting downstream.

In the midst of the boats swims a solitary Man.  Most give him only a passing glance, imagining he may be swimming for exercise.  They didn’t see that earlier he willingly dove into a section of rapids from the bank.  He appears weak at first, yet those who look closely notice instead a quiet strength and focused intent.  And what is He doing?  He is saving those who begin to hear warnings and the roar of the falls, and cry for help.

I stand with a small group on the river bank adding to the warnings and pointing to the Rescuer.  Those in huddles near the bank can not hear me as they criticize others and talk over one another.  Those on the party barge can’t hear my shouts over their speakers blaring “Peace Train.”  

As my eyes focus on the Rescuer, mysteriously somehow three things are clear. First, his eyes are filled with a deep compassion, not wanting any to be destroyed.  Second, he will have strength and time to get everyone to shore who desires to be rescued.  But third, he will not have strength or time to save himself.

Some boaters paddle to the edge to respond to my warnings in chorus:  “There is no way I’m giving up my yacht I’ve worked so hard for.”  “It’s so personal that it is a part of me.”  “Everyone else is impressed by it.”  “It is so comfortable.” I try telling them they will lose their boat very soon either way as the river current appears to quicken.

Others have questions:  “If the Lord of the Land is so good, why would he make this river and the waterfall in the first place?”  (They do not consider that previous boaters themselves may have dug out the waterway.)  Another asks, “Then why is there water at all?” and other questions for which I don’t have satisfying answers.  I tell them these are good questions, these are understandable questions, and that I really wish they would continue to wrestle with them from the safety of the bank.  Why?  Because although I still don’t know all of the answers, somehow–from the perspective of the river bank–I am completely satisfied with what I do know.  

Others are defensive and angry as they come near:  “Why are you scaring me with warnings of  waterfalls ahead?”  “Who are you to criticize my boat? Are you judging the size of my boat? The shape of my boat?”  “You must be judging me because my boat is painted in the colors of a rainbow.”  Now I am scratching and shaking my head in incredulity, in an attempt to indicate misunderstanding.  But they still cry, “Do you think your boat is better than ours?” 

I am excited to get this question, and I respond as clearly and loudly as possible, “Oh no.  On the contrary.  When I had a boat it was far, far worse than yours in several ways.  I did think mine was better than some of the others, and I let them know it.  And when I knew it wasn’t, I tried to make people believe it was.  I regularly applied coats of white paint in an attempt to cover the ugliest shade of black which continued to show through.  The white paint wouldn’t stick because under it all was rotten wood and rusted iron.  Worst of all–and I am ashamed to say this–I wore a God’s Way t-shirt and also used to throw rocks at others from my boat.

One rower calls out, “If not your boat, then you must think you are better than me now that you are looking down at me from the bank.”  I stand with wet hair and a damp towel around my shoulders as I cry out, “I was enjoying the river in my own boat along with everyone else.  I heard warning cries from others on the bank and ignored them, not wanting to leave the river either. I cried out for help only as my boat was falling apart, but as I look back, in many ways I fought against the Rescuer as he saved me.  Now that I am safely on the bank, I still sometimes long for the river.  Again and again, I make a run for the water and dip my toes in.  Over and over again I find myself on the verge of diving in, until I look up to the Rescuer who is looking back at me with compassion and love. 

One: “Are you saying the Lord of the Land hates me? Isn’t he supposed to love people?”  I glance at the Rescuer who is bringing two boaters to the shore, even as he himself struggles for breath.  I cry out as I point, “He does! And there he is!”  

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This certainly is personal and will be difficult to hear–it was for me:  God, The Lord of the Land, hates your boat.  He hates everyone’s boat.  He hates them for three reasons. First, because it took you away from lasting joy and satisfaction rather than temporal pleasure which will end very soon.  Second, your boat took you away from the most intimate of relationships to which every relationship points and of which every relationship is a mere shadow—that of a relationship with himself.  Third, he hates your boat also because of where it is taking you, to your destruction.  But he loves you.  He loves the world enough to send Jesus, the Rescuer, who is mysteriously somehow one with the Lord of the Land.

God, The Lord of the Land,  cares how his creatures live  — The waterfall shows you what He thinks of homo- as well as hetero-sexual lifestyles along with every lifestyle, thought, deed and act that is counter to his ways. And God’s rescue plan tells you what he thinks of you.

Does God hate gays? Absolutely not. God will judge gays and God will judge straights for going their own way, bringing destruction on themselves. And he would have judged me much more severely than you, as a pharisaic, selfish, prideful, heterosexual sinner, if I had not cried out to the Rescuer, Jesus, for forgiveness and put my trust in him. 

The church has been so bad at presenting the real Jesus, I can almost guarantee that you have only been introduced to a cheap substitute thus far. So, if you decide to turn him down, make sure you are turning down the true Rescuer, and not one of the God’s Way groups who follow a counterfeit Jesus.   

I invite you to call out to the Rescuer, Jesus. Bring your friends, family, lovers. He is still saving those who hear the warnings of the falls and cry out for help.  The adjustment to making the changes that God requires can be extremely challenging, but He promises to be with us and even carry us as we get our land legs.  Let me lend you a hand and give you a hug as you step onto the bank.  Allow me to walk with you to the crest of the hill. You can’t imagine the view of what is in store. 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Mt 11:28

Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink.”  Jn 7:37

“For the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost.” Lk 19:10

“All of us, like sheep, have strayed away.  We have left God’s paths to follow our own.  Yet the Lord laid on him the sins of us all.” Is 53:6 NLT