Dear NALT Christians...We Are ALT

A few weeks ago, a new trend in Christendom lit up my Facebook feed. Christians were going to change the world, stand up for human rights, and defy their image as narrow-minded bigots...by making Youtube videos.

You may take a moment to wipe the tears of hilarity/frustration from your eyes. I had to.

It seems there is a new group on the scene, and they want you to know that when it comes to hating on the gays, they are Not All Like That. That is their catchy acronym: the NALT Christians. Inspired by the It Gets Better Project that Dan Savage and his partner started in 2010 to assure young gay kids that life gets better after high school, this group has so far posted about 75 videos on YouTube assuring the world that, fear not, we're Not All Like That.

What strikes me first is that they entirely missed the point of the "It Gets Better" campaign. What made IGB so powerful was it was a family conversation: older gay folks saying to younger ones, hey, it won't be like this forever. It wasn't gay people saying to everyone else, "Guys, we're totally cool! We pay taxes and join the PTA and curse in traffic just like the rest of you! Honest, we're not what you think we are!" No, they were talking to each other. And if NALT had actually taken Savage's advice, maybe this wouldn't be such an exercise in absurdity either. Savage coined NALT because so many Christians came up to him and said, "You know, we're not all like that." His response? "Don't tell me that, tell Pat Robertson!" Tell all the anti-gay leaders who claim to speak for all Christians. In fact, Savage didn't need to be told not all Christians are like that; his mother was both Christian and supportive of him. He already knew.

Maybe if NALT was a conversation amongst Christians, I'd be more supportive. If it were Christians talking to other Christians about why they believe--biblically, morally, spiritually, because of the presence of Christ and the Spirit--that sexuality is not an obstacle to a relationship with God, then that would be a conversation I'd be interested in taking part in. Instead, it comes across as Christians who want gay people to know that they're the good ones, the cool ones, the ones you can totally hang out with! Please affirm me and my coolness and don't lump me in with the un-trendy Christians who probably live in red states and wear polyester. The harm that is done to you is a shame, gay folks, but I need you to affirm that I am a good person! Because LGBTQ people TOTALLY have nothing else to do but shore up your confidence, NALTies. They don't have bigger issues facing their communities AT ALL. My eyes have rolled so far back into my head I'm not sure they're coming back around.

But snark aside (and it's hard to put aside because this effort is so rich with snarky possibility), I'm bothered by something deeper. I understand wanting to say that Christianity is not a monolith.  There are two billion of us, almost a third of the world's populations; any thinking person shouldn't need to be told that Pentecostals in Uganda are probably different from Catholics in the Philippines or Russian Orthodox in Moscow. I make it a point of assuming that in any group of 2 billion people, there's probably a plurality of opinion on any given topic, but I've always been a maverick. (As a corollary, I also don't assume it's every Muslim's job to convince me they're not in favor of flying planes into buildings or every black guy's job to convince me he's not a criminal.) So let's assume that message still needs to get out there.

I'm all in favor of a good theological fight (I'm fondly recalling a div school professor who referred to me as a "theological pugilist," which I took as the highest of compliments). I think we should have hard discussions and wave our fists and stamp our feet, always in the humble certainty that we may be getting this completely wrong because, let's face it, we usually do.  We can talk about why we disagree, and we can let those who are on the outside of this family argument listening in know that we have differing opinions on this subject.

But I can't help but feel that when they say "we're not all like that," they really mean "because we're better than."

We're better than those Christians who disagree with us--and who, it must be said in the interest of fairness, include a number who are indeed sometimes homophobic and hateful, as well as a number who are earnestly trying their best to be faithful to a complicated text, history and spirit. We're better than those Christians who are Republican, who are not as well-educated, who live someplace we don't like; better than those who think differently, vote differently, believe differently.

Except you're not, and basic Christian theology tells you you're not.  One of the great contributions of Christianity, I believe, is the belief that we are both beautiful and broken, every last one of us. We have the capacity for great goodness and for the depths of evil. So: NALT, you are ALT, because we are ALL ALT. We are all judgmental, we are all hypocritical, we are all petty and hurtful and shaming. We all say ugly things behind other people's backs. We worry that someone getting more means we will have less. We just do. And we can and should fight those impulses, but please don't pretend to me that you're not like me. I know you, because you ARE me. And you're a hot mess too.

Say you disagree, say you think the Christians who condemn homosexuality are wrong and are reading the Bible wrong, say it loud and strong. But don't say you're not like them. You violate the communion of the Church and you deny your own fallible humanity when you do.

And by the way, if you want to know what transformation and grace really look like, you won't see it in a Youtube video, but you might be lucky enough to meet my mom some day. Her best friend since high school--a friendship of close to 50 years now--is a lesbian who has been with her partner for about 35 years, almost as long as my parents have been married. Joan was the only bridesmaid in my parents' wedding. She and my mom used to make teachers cry. On one occasion, Joan pretended she was sick to stay home from school, then called the school pretending to be my grandmother in order to pick my mom up so they could drive to the beach in Joan's convertible.

I don't know when Joan came out to my mom, but I imagine it was gut-wrenching for both of them. We used to tease my mom because she once said, when my sister asked "but what do lesbians DO," "Sweetie, I don't know, I just pretend they're roommates who share recipes." That was probably 20 years ago. I think they had some rocky years in there. They kept talking, though, even when it was just a birthday call or a Christmas card.

Fast-forward several years. Mom went up to Vermont in August  to visit Joan and Suzi, who got married in September after DOMA was overturned. Was she going to the ceremony, I asked? She said she wasn't, because her trip to see them had been arranged before the DOMA ruling came down and it was too late to change her flight. But in the quiet of their house, when just the three of them were there, my mom asked them to say their vows for her.

I cried, standing on a street corner in New York City, when she told me that story. That is so far out of her comfort zone, but she loves Joan and Suzi and she wants them to be happy. She is not theologically convinced that homosexuality is God's plan for human sexuality; but she loves her friend and accepts her fully. And Joan accepts my mom. Suzi mentioned on this trip that my mom was the last person Joan came out to, after she'd come out even to her parents, because she was so afraid of losing my mom's friendship. "Did you think I was that much of a judgmental bitch?" asked my mom, who is known amongst her close friends, and her distant ones, for being a straight shooter. "Oh, Susie, Joan doesn't think that about you at all," Suzi said firmly. "She thinks you're principled. She *admires* that about you."

Tell me that's not grace. I'm a moral pygmy next to Joan and my mom.

It's moved my mom politically a bit; I think she favors civil unions, or at least wouldn't vote to oppose them. She wants Joan and Suzi to be able to make end-of-life decisions for each other.  When my dad said staunchly that he wouldn't go against the Bible and vote for something so unbiblical, my mom said, "Well, you don't know any gay people." Not true, Dad blustered; he has gay acquaintances at work. "Fine," Mom amended; "you don't LOVE any gay people."

And that's the game changer, isn't it? YouTube videos won't change anything. Trying to get a gold star for being NALT won't do it. But getting into the messy incarnational reality of people who aren't like you but who are, actually, exactly like you just might. That's where you'll find the grace and transformation.

That's where you'll find Joan and Susie and Suzi. And those broads are worth knowing.