Death of the Heretic
The prescribed Christian punishment for those who practiced same-sex sex was public burning. "Death of the Heretic on the Bonfire" by Sassetta. (Stefano di Giovanni, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Why Traditionalists Aren’t Traditionalists – and That’s a Good Thing

by

Special to United Methodist Insight

As the United Methodist Church deliberates dividing over LGBTQ inclusion, I find myself endlessly engaged in sword-drills over a handful of scriptural prooftexts; exchanges regarding the experiences of LGBTQ Christians; arguments about what reason ethically authorizes; and, social media threads on what the tradition of the church contributes to the conversation.

The scriptural sword-drills, while having their place, will continue until Jesus steps back through the rainbowed clouds. The experiences of LGBTQ Christians largely get reduced only to those narratives that serve pre-existing preferences. And when we have pre-determined what the facts must reveal, reason becomes a fallacy-wielding mercenary contracted to defend our moral immutability.

This article concerns tradition and its place in these disputes. On the surface, it appears the tradition of the church has a singular voice: No gay sex. Or, if we can abide more candor: No gays (note: the distinction between same-sex attraction and same-sex deeds has a relatively recent advent reflecting a relaxing of the tradition). Regardless, whether relaxed or reinforced, the declarations of church tradition seemingly run mono-directionally in reproof of same-sex sexuality.

Of course, this claim of a single-minded church tradition has its challengers. Some church historians claim the ecclesial condemnations of same-sex sexuality may not reflect the mutuality of modern, monogamous same-sex sexual acts. Instead, these scholars insist the church has historically condemned only pederasty or other oppressive practices and, thus, remained silent on matters of mutual, monogamous same-sex love. Other historians might cite ecclesial communities through the centuries who broke the mold and meddled in same-sex sexual expressions, at the very least in seasons of liminality. After all, most honest historians admit the existence of few universals that traverse thousands of years and an array of cultural expressions. Outliers always exist, often hidden in the heart of the dominant community.

With that acknowledged, however, let us concede for a moment that the traditionalist’s claims have historical weight. Let us grant, even if begrudgingly, this singular, mono-vocal, homochromatic version of the history. Let us accept that the traditionalists are, in fact, traditional. Will such a concession end the inclusivist position? Will it end the argument?

I wish to argue here that we progressives give up the argument at this point far too easily. If the traditionalists want to claim the tradition as their birthright, I propose we agree and thereby make them responsible for the tradition they so eagerly invoke. For, when we allow this admission, we make the traditionalists answerable to the actual tradition of the church and same-sex sexuality--not just a gentrified, reimagined, and relaxed version. Once responsible for the tradition, traditionalists will shy away from it, specifically because the tradition of the church on this matter is as violent as it is disapproving. Indeed, its violence is not an idiosyncrasy, but is endemic to the tradition, its institutions, and its rhetoric. As Mark Jordan says in his essay on sophistry in Christian moral rhetoric, "If you put out on a table a sample of Christian discourses on queer sex from the Middle Ages to the present, from authors in different denominations and countries, you will be astonished by the repetition of rhetoric designed to produce violence."

'Monstrous insanity'

A few samples from recognized representatives of the tradition should sufficiently substantiate my point:

In Homily #4 on Romans 1:26-27, John Chrysostom referred to same-sex sex as a “monstrous insanity.” He declares that “the devil has taken away” the same-sex attracted person’s desire for the opposite sex in the satanic endeavor to exterminate humanity. Further, those with same-sex desires (and other select sins) have deliberately chosen this lifestyle of deviance. He compares them to a young woman who enters a den seeking sexual pleasure from “unreasoning brutes” (by which he means either barbarians or animals). Worse, he brands those who engage in same-sex sexuality as unable to self-regulate their carnal appetites and, in the end, morally inferior to murderers: “For the murderer dissevers the soul from the body, but this man ruins the soul with the body.” To Chrysostom, same-sex sex hauls Hell out of the hereafter and heaves it into the here and now.

Continuing, Clement of Alexandria (2nd cent.) congratulates a king of the Scythians who, with a bow and arrow, killed one of his citizens for effeminacy. He heaps praise on the king for killing this man who had taught the king’s citizens “the disease of effeminacy.”

In another case, which might be comical were it not so condescending, Novation (3rd cent.) compares effeminate men to those who disregard Torah’s food laws. He says the food laws had symbolic value, teaching men not to be unclean, unpolished, trifling, fickle, faithless, and effeminate. In fact, for some strange reason, Novation argues that Torah bans rabbit as a rebuke to men who have become woman-like in disposition. Apparently, for Novation, few things lack holiness like homosexuals and hares.

Another 3rd century text from Cyprian of Carthage muses on emasculated men whose masculine vigor has vanished because they disgraced their bodies with a variety of effeminate acts that eventually veered them toward adopting feminine attributes. He labels such emasculation a crime, a shame, a disgrace, and an abomination. He may have pederasty in mind, but the context is ambiguous. Notwithstanding, he regards even the desire for same-sex sex as a malignant fruit molded by a mind mired in madness.

Or we may think about the Theodosian code (4th cent.) which sentenced to death by public burning all who perform “alien sex,” by which the document seems to mean men who take a receptive role in a same-sex encounter. This was merely the more explicit version of what Augustine argued for around the same time when he said men who have sex with men ought to be punished for their “shameful acts against nature,” and that the church should spurn such sexual deviants because they defy divine law.

Hundreds of years after Augustine, Thomas Aquinas argues that God abandons people to same-sex activity by giving them over to appetites that violate their nature. For Aquinas, this “giving them over” related specifically to how idolatrous practices reduce us to animal appetites that harm our humanness. Further, because same-sex sex cannot climax in conception, Aquinas considers it one of the most severe sins a person can commit. Coitus for conception is a conveniently forgotten facet of the tradition for most Protestant “traditionalists.”

St. Bernadine (14th cent.) also said sodomy “is the greatest sin,” a “deviant passion” that effects our intellectual capacities and devolves into other deviancies like sloth, stubbornness, pleasure-seeking, and frenzy.

Martin Luther, during the Reformation, elaborated on the enormity of same-sex sexual sins by referring to them as the devil’s work. For Luther, those who pioneered the practice in Germany “deserve to be hated” and the impact of their “monstrous depravity” ought to be feared. With typical Lutheran lingual dexterity, he likens a body used for same-sex sex as a bottle made for rich wine getting used, instead, for storing dirt and defecation.

Finally, in the 16th century, Zwingli used same-sex sex as a part of his anti-papal polemic. He accused Catholic priests of feral sexual passions that included not only sodomy, but rape of their mothers and sisters. Same-sex sexual debauchery fit his anti-Catholic polemic and reflected a much wider use of homophobic rhetoric used across the divide during the Reformation.

To sum up this admittedly abbreviated list of thinkers, theologians, and preachers in the Christian tradition, we can effortlessly conclude they thought same-sex sexual desire and deeds were minimally (if at all) distinguishable from pederasty, unnatural and chosen, explicitly tied to pagan idolatry, morally monstrous, rooted in excessive and uncontrolled passions, violated divine imperatives of procreation, demonic, the worst of sins (worse even than murder!), comparable to having sex with animals and sexually assaulting siblings, worthy of being shot-through with an arrow, and worthy of public burning.

Reasons, rhetoric and results

If our traditionalist colleagues wish to claim that the consistent historic position of the church has condemned same-sex sex, they cannot merely pick and choose the politest versions of that tradition. They must also take responsibility for its reasons, its rhetoric, and its results.

Instead, I find the opposite is often the case. Traditionalists appeal to church tradition in ambiguity, leaving out the viler, violent bits. They overlook the social exile, the death, and the burning flesh left in the wake of the tradition. They disregard the conflation of same-sex attraction with rape, incest, and bestiality. They pretty it up and smooth over its most savage facets.

Traditionalists appeal to church tradition in ambiguity, leaving out the viler, violent bits. They overlook the social exile, the death, and the burning flesh left in the wake of the tradition. They disregard the conflation of same-sex attraction with rape, incest, and bestiality. They pretty it up and smooth over its most savage facets.

Yet, precisely in their gentrification of the tradition, I have hope. The traditionalists look away from the historical violence of the tradition precisely because they have a moral compass that obligates them to own the tradition’s moral atrocities. By beautifying and ambiguating the tradition they reveal a shame about the actualities of the tradition.

Our traditionalist friends know that, should they ratify the reprehensible record of the tradition, even some of their staunchest supporters would weep over the incendiary invectives and the deadly, devastating results. If traditionalists recognize the repercussions of the tradition’s rhetoric, they could not in good conscience say things such as, “welcoming but not affirming;” or, “love the sinner, hate the sin;” or, “God only condemns gay sex not gay people.”

I say “they could not” precisely because I believe they are Christians, filled with the Holy Spirit, who hate sin and embrace their baptism vows to resist evil and injustice in whatever forms they present themselves – even in the form of tradition. I say “they could not” because I believe they truly do want to be faithful to Jesus and love their neighbors as they love themselves. I say “they could not” because I know the Holy Spirit in them prompts their distaste for the violence of the tradition. I say “they could not” because I do not believe they are malicious moral monsters.

I know these things because the Holy Spirit worked in me this way. My theological education occurred in two non-affirming institutions of higher education. In these institutions, I learned to value scripture (above all), reason, experience, and tradition. I learned to read and appreciate the beauty and complexities in the church’s traditions. I learned to hear the Holy Spirit in the long-held beliefs, rituals, and liturgies of our forefathers and foremothers. I also, however, cringed at the cruelty of the church’s past. The carnage in the tradition conflicts with the Sermon on the Mount, contrasts with the crucified Christ, goes against God’s preferential option for the poor. Despite the church’s glorious traditions, I could not unsee the underbelly of its brutality.

If the tradition of the church teaches me anything, it teaches me of its appeal and its imperfections. It teaches me that the church, a body of believers, can be woefully wrong.

All I could do was admit, lament, apologize for, work for healing, and stand for the dignity of the vulnerable people my tradition has hurt. If the tradition of the church teaches me anything, it teaches me of its appeal and its imperfections. It teaches me that the church, a body of believers, can be woefully wrong. But that same tradition also shows us what to do when we get it wrong. Some in the tradition, when realizing their wrong, decide to double-down and deny the evil of their deeds. Others, however, show us a better way: telling the truth and getting on with the work of mending the injuries we have inflicted.

So, yes, let’s concede the history of the church to the traditionalists precisely to prove they are not traditionalists--and that is a good thing. Let’s leap to the logical end of the history. Let’s grapple with the consequences and costs of our carnal and calloused so-called “ethical” tradition. For, indeed, the consequences and costs remain with us today in above average LGBTQ suicide and in homelessness. Even if our rhetoric has largely become more courteous in its cruelty, I still do not know how any conservative with a conscience can see Christ’s cross in it. I know I cannot.

Tom Fuerst is the author of Underdogs and Outsiders (2016) and lead pastor of Bluff City Church, a United Methodist church plant in Memphis. He received his B.A. in Biblical Studies from Hannibal LaGrange University (2003), an M.A. in Religious Studies at the University of Missouri (2006), an M.Div. from Asbury Theological Seminary (2010), and a PhD in Rhetoric from the University of Memphis (2022).