By Jay Stracke
In the old testament of the Bible, in the book of Leviticus, there are passages illustrating the correct construction and maintenance of a holy space. These spaces must avoid events tied to impurity or sin. Among such events are childbirth and menstruation. If these holy spaces were to see such events, it is claimed that God would leave said space.
Along with menstruation and childbirth, Leviticus lists several other rules deemed as “abominations”—charging interest on loans (Ezekiel 18:13), burning incense (Isaiah 1:13), and eating pork, rabbit, and shellfish (Deuteronomy 14:3–21).
But these laws surrounding unclean foods, bodily discharges, and priestly conduct, among the other 613 in Leviticus, no longer apply—not only because our society teaches us that it is okay to have crab cakes or lobster for dinner, but because, according to the New Testament, Christ’s death and resurrection fulfilled the law. In fact, Romans 10:4 says, “Christ is the end of the law.”
However, from the boundaries of my own lived experience, and despite Christ “ending the old law,” Christians who condemn LGBTQIA+ identities and experiences often cite one Old Testament passage in particular, and there has perhaps been no text with a larger influence on attitudes toward gay people than the biblical book of Leviticus:
“If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them” (Leviticus 18:22, 20:13).
Having grown a young closeted boy with a strict Christian education, I stared at the ceiling most nights wondering how a “loving” God would allow me to be an “abomination.” All of these thoughts didn’t help any feelings of self-loathing and existential dread, and whoever Leviticus was, he certainly knew how to rub salt in a wound. Did he get it from Lot’s wife?
But the name Leviticus actually means “of Leviticus,” or someone who “belongs to the Levites,” one of the twelve tribes of Israel. That being said, many surmise that the book of Leviticus was written by more than one person.
As is the case with many ancient texts, the Book of Leviticus was written and compiled over many years, reaching its current iteration around 538–332 BC. Furthermore, despite many believing Leviticus was written by Moses, there are biblical scholars who agree that Leviticus 18 was added by a late editor—one who worked more than a hundred years after the oldest material in Leviticus was written. Leading Bible scholar Idan Dershowitz asserts that, prior to the passage’s late inclusion, same-sex sexual activity was not condemned in an earlier form of the book. In fact, in the ancient world before the creation of Leviticus, the explicit condemnation of same-sex relationships was virtually unheard of.
So, Christians, if you claim that Jesus made a “new covenant,” one where the old is obsolete and where “what is obsolete and outdated will soon disappear” (Hebrews 8:13), then you must not hold the old laws against others.
And to my fellow queer people, acceptance and tolerance must go both ways.
A Stonewall report in 2018 showed that one in ten LGBT+ Christians experienced faith-based discrimination from within the queer community. According to the same report, an example of this form of discrimination can be a created environment where a queer person of faith may experience shame in admitting their religion or an act of utter aggression and inappropriate questioning.
This instance of binarism—this notion that one must relinquish their faith to exist fully in their sexuality, or that a Christian must suppress their sexuality to be loved by God—has created a rift in both communities.
Binary thinking occurs when “even complex concepts, ideas, and problems are overly simplified into being one side or another.” Often, the area in between goes unnoticed or completely ignored.
For many, binary thinking creates a sense of certainty. For example, when someone assigned male at birth is born, gender binarism dictates that this person will be masculine in appearance and exhibit masculine character traits and behavior. However, these expectations, this “certainty,” enforces negative bias against people who do not conform to said expectations.
So we must stop shutting people out because they don’t fit into a designated box. Many of our queer friends and family have struggled to escape the boxes they have been put in since birth, so why would we expect a queer person of faith to choose between one of two sides?
Instead, conversations should begin with what both communities claim their foundation to be—love.
