A Conversation I Didn’t Plan to Have
This morning, my fiancé Josh and I were getting ready to head to the YMCA to work out at the gym when I found myself thinking about something I hadn’t planned to write about today. I had been asking ChatGPT questions about LGBTQ+ people and Christianity—things like whether being gay is considered sinful, and how different societies throughout history have viewed same-sex relationships and gender diversity.
As I read through the information, I realized just how valuable it was—not just for me, but possibly for others, too. I’ve struggled with these questions for a long time. Is it really a sin to be gay or lesbian? Are LGBTQ+ people going to hell just because of who they love? Those are questions I’ve asked myself many times over the years.
I’ve never liked the idea that a loving God would condemn someone for loving another person—especially when that love is genuine, loyal, and kind. But I was raised Catholic, and like many others, I grew up hearing that being gay was sinful. Even then, I had doubts. And now, after years of reflection and learning, I want to share some of the things I’ve discovered—because I believe there are a lot of misconceptions about this issue, even among well-meaning people of faith.
What I Was Taught
I grew up with a Catholic mom who wasn’t overly religious, but she believed in God and emphasized the importance of faith. We didn’t go to church all the time—she was more of an off-and-on churchgoer—but her beliefs shaped a lot of what we were taught.
One of those beliefs was that being gay was sinful. That’s what I was told growing up. But my mom also taught us to treat people with respect. I remember asking her, as a teenager, “If one of us were gay or lesbian, would you still talk to us?” And she said, “Of course I would. I would love you. I might not approve of your lifestyle, but I would still love you no matter what.”
That stuck with me. She didn’t go around criticizing people or saying cruel things about them. I always got the impression that while she believed it was a sin, she didn’t think it was our place to be harsh or judgmental toward people who were gay or lesbian. We weren’t taught to be unkind—just that it was wrong, according to her faith.
As for me, I’ve never told someone, “Your life is sinful.” That’s not who I am. Even when I wasn’t sure what I believed, I didn’t feel it was my place to judge. I’ll talk about my faith if someone wants to hear it, but I’m not one of those people who goes around preaching at everyone. No matter what denomination or faith I’ve belonged to over the years, that’s never been my approach.
My journey with religion has been a varied one. I was even Muslim for about seven years, and they also taught that being gay was sinful. But even during that time, I still held onto the idea that judging others wasn’t my job.
My mom says it best now when she says, “It’s above my pay grade.” That pretty much sums up how I was raised. We were taught that it was sinful—but we were also taught to be respectful, and not to judge.
Rethinking What’s “Sinful”
When I went to Josh’s church—a United Church of Christ congregation in Sarasota—I experienced something I hadn’t before. I’d heard of LGBTQ-affirming churches before, churches that are welcoming and loving, but I had never actually been to one. Sitting there in that space, I felt a sense of openness and compassion that made me pause. It also made me think about something that had been lingering in the back of my mind for years: how do they justify it?
I had always believed, like many people do, that the Bible clearly says being gay is a sin. I didn’t see how you could get around that. Even though I loved the idea of churches embracing and loving LGBTQ+ people, I used to wonder—how can they do that and still be Christian? Are they ignoring the Bible? Are they just picking and choosing?
It’s funny how easily our views can be shaped by the culture around us—sometimes without us even realizing it. What we think is “obvious” or “clear” in the Bible often turns out to be more complicated when we learn the history behind it.
For example, early Christians lived in the Roman Empire, where same-sex relationships—especially between men—were common and socially accepted, at least among the upper classes. Yet, the earliest followers of Jesus didn’t write long condemnations of homosexuality. Instead, their focus was on spiritual transformation, caring for the poor, resisting empire, and loving one another. The harshest teachings about same-sex relationships came much later, as Christianity became institutionalized and shaped by political, cultural, and patriarchal systems that sought to control sexuality in general—not just LGBTQ+ people.
Part of the confusion also comes from how the Bible has been translated and interpreted over time. The word “homosexual” didn’t even appear in any English Bible until 1946. Before that, the original Greek and Hebrew words referred to things like exploitation, temple prostitution, or abusive power—not loving same-sex relationships. But over time, especially in the modern era, a few verses were translated and taught in ways that linked all same-sex relationships with sin, even though many theologians and historians now say that wasn’t what the original texts meant.
For example, many people point to the story of Sodom and Gomorrah as evidence that homosexuality is sinful. But if you actually read the story in Genesis 19, it’s about a mob of men trying to gang-rape strangers—angels, in fact. It’s a story about violence, power, and humiliation, not loving same-sex relationships. The prophet Ezekiel later said the real sin of Sodom was pride, greed, and failing to help the poor and needy (Ezekiel 16:49).
Other passages often quoted—like Leviticus 18:22 or Romans 1:26–27—also come from cultural and historical contexts very different from ours today. Leviticus is part of the Old Testament purity laws, which also forbid eating shellfish, wearing mixed fabrics, and touching a woman during her period. Most Christians don’t follow those rules anymore, but some still quote that one verse about same-sex relations. And Paul’s words in Romans are widely debated—many scholars believe he was condemning excess and idol worship, not loving same-sex relationships.
Most importantly, Jesus never mentioned homosexuality. What he did talk about, over and over again, was love, compassion, inclusion, and justice. He welcomed the outcasts, ate with sinners, and constantly challenged people who were quick to judge others while ignoring their own flaws. If Jesus didn’t speak about this issue directly, and if he commanded us to love our neighbors as ourselves, then maybe we’ve been focusing on the wrong things.
More and more churches—like the United Church of Christ, the Episcopal Church, and many progressive Methodist and Presbyterian congregations—are rethinking what it means to be faithful. They are not abandoning the Bible. They’re reading it more deeply, with an eye toward the kind of love Jesus modeled. And they’re discovering that affirmation and faith don’t have to be at odds. In fact, they often go hand in hand.
Where I Am Now
Back in the late 1980s or early 1990s, there was a big trend in Christian circles—especially among teens and young adults. You’d see bracelets, shirts, and keychains that said, “What Would Jesus Do?” At the time, it may have seemed like just a catchy phrase, but it stuck with me. Over the years, I’ve thought a lot about that question—especially when I see people doing things in the name of Christianity that don’t look much like Jesus at all.
When I really stop and ask myself, “What would Jesus do?”—I can’t picture him turning people away from church because of who they love. I can’t see him shaming someone for being different or using faith as a weapon to wound others. And yet, intolerance and judgment have become so normalized in many parts of the Christian world that we don’t even realize how far we’ve drifted from Jesus’ example.
I’m not just talking about this issue—I’ve seen this kind of judgment in many areas. But in this post, we’re focusing on the LGBTQ+ community. And I believe that as Christians, we’ve often gotten it wrong. We’ve let fear, tradition, and misinformation take the place of compassion, curiosity, and grace.
That’s why it makes me hopeful to see more churches moving in a more loving direction—churches that welcome and affirm LGBTQ+ people as beloved children of God. I truly believe that Jesus would have done the same.
The church I attend now is called Mission Hill Church in Traverse City. It used to be part of the United Church of Christ until about 2008, and while it’s now non-denominational, it remains a community focused on worship and kindness, not politics. My fiancé and I sing in the choir, and I love the people there. Our pastor, Chad Hoyer, often says that he doesn’t talk about politics from the pulpit—and I respect that. I don’t know where everyone in the church stands on LGBTQ+ issues, but I do know that I’ve found friendship and belonging there.
Over time, I’ve come to believe something very deeply: being heterosexual doesn’t make you more moral or more faithful. I’ve known heterosexual couples who are unfaithful, unkind, or chasing multiple partners. And I’ve known gay and lesbian couples who are deeply loyal, loving, and committed. To me, what matters is the quality of the love—not the gender of the people involved.
We’re all raised a certain way, and at some point, we have to decide whether we’ll continue believing everything we were taught or if we’re open to growing, reading, and learning. It’s not always easy to open your mind—but it’s necessary. My mom has said for as long as I can remember, “We should keep learning until the day we die. If you’re not going to keep learning, you might as well die.” I believe that wholeheartedly, and I hope I’m still learning on my last day on this earth.
Even though I was raised in a more conservative home—and I was pretty judgmental myself in my younger years—I grew into my own beliefs as I got out into the world. I saw things differently. That doesn’t mean I don’t respect my mom. She taught us to treat all people with respect, including gay and lesbian people. She might not agree with everything I believe now, but she never taught us to hate or fear people who were different. And I’m grateful for that.
A Few More Things Before I Close
One thing I’ve always believed is wrong—long before I ever started questioning my beliefs about sin and sexuality—is that gay and lesbian people should never be excluded from jobs, the military, or housing simply because of who they are. Discrimination is discrimination, and it’s always hurtful and unfair.
As a blind person, I know what it feels like to be underestimated or dismissed because of something you can’t change. It’s not the same as being LGBTQ+, of course, but there’s a shared experience in being treated as “less than” based on identity. Some people might say, “Oh, I don’t want to hire a blind person,” or, “That would be too hard,” without ever understanding what we’re capable of. But the truth is, aside from a few specific jobs—like flying a plane or driving a car—there are so many things we *can* do. And sexual orientation doesn’t affect someone’s ability to work or contribute. I’ve believed that since I was young, and I still do today.
I know this is a controversial subject for a lot of people. But I always say: keep an open mind. Read. Research. Don’t just take what you hear at face value. That’s true for so many things in life. For example, this post isn’t about Islam, but some people believe that all Muslims hate Christians or that the Quran teaches violence against them. That’s simply not true. I’m not Muslim anymore, but I always encourage people—on this and other issues—to educate themselves. You may be surprised by how wrong some of your assumptions turn out to be.
That’s what I hope this blog post has done—made someone stop and think. Maybe challenged an old idea. Maybe opened the door to a little more compassion. I’ve wrestled with these questions for a long time, and I wanted to share my journey in case it helps someone else with theirs.
Thanks for reading. I hope you’ve found something here that made you reflect, learn, or just feel less alone.
Notes from the edge of the system 