odd man out.

Many Christians who have little experience interacting with LGBT people display hesitancy when they talk about LGBT people, and one of the main difficulties they face is choosing what terminology to use.  I completely understand this hesitancy, because an inconsistent jargon has developed among LGBT Christians in regards to what sort of language is most appropriate, most accurate, and most faithful to God’s calling on our lives.

This matters.  This matters because language shapes reality.  New language expands our minds to understand new concepts and to provide nuance for our perspectives.  Here’s an example: When my niece was first learning to speak, she would call any four-legged animal a “dog.”  She didn’t know the words for “horse” or “mouse” or “tiger” or “bear” yet, so she used the word “dog.”  But it wasn’t just that she didn’t know the names of different kinds of animals; it was that she perceived all four-legged animals identically.  Because she didn’t have language to describe different kinds of animals, they were all the same to her: They were all “dog.”  Now that her vocabulary has drastically increased, she can classify animals into all different categories using the correct words for them.  Her ability to perceive the difference between a dog and a horse was directly tied to her possession of different words to describe them.

Language also shapes reality in regards to one’s experience of sexuality.  From where I stand, there is a world of difference between the statements, “I’m gay,” and “I struggle with same-sex attraction.”  But it gets much more subtle than that.  There’s a difference between saying, “I experience same-sex attraction,” and “I struggle with same-sex attraction.”  There’s a difference between saying, “I am a homosexual,” and, “I have a homosexual orientation.”  There’s a difference between saying, “I am gay,” and, “I identify as gay.”

Many people perceive all of the above statements identically—they all sound like “dog.”  In my experience, though, the vast majority of Christians who have wrestled with reconciling some kind of nontraditional sexual attraction with faith have traveled a journey of semantics, which actually represents a much more profound journey of trying to understand how one’s sexual attractions and one’s identity are related.  Most of the LGBT Christians I know choose very specific words to describe themselves (though most demonstrate flexibility in order to communicate with different audiences) and have identified certain words they consider unacceptable.  In all honesty, this makes it extraordinarily difficult to write a blog like this one, since I’m trying to use inclusive and non-offensive language while writing concisely.  Even in this paragraph, I hate to use the phrase “LGBT Christians” because I want to honor those people I know who experience same-sex attraction but intentionally reject the language of “Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender” based on their own perception of identity.  For them, using those words to describe themselves is as inaccurate as calling a rabbit a “dog.”  Nevertheless, others reject the language of “struggling with same-sex attraction” with the same veracity.

(You’ll notice, by the way, I haven’t said anything about behavior or sexual ethics.  How descriptive language and behavior are related is a different conversation, but suffice it to say that I don’t personally believe any of the examples of language I’ve used above imply anything about behavior.  In my opinion, neither “struggle with same-sex attraction” nor “gay” nor anything in between tells me anything about how an individual lives.  But I digress, and I know my opinion here is debatable.)

Language has been important enough in my journey that one could almost trace the development of my self-perception simply by tracing the language I have used to describe myself throughout the years.  One of the most patient campus ministers in the world once sat through an hour-long conversation with me as I talked through different labels and which I wanted to use for myself, and she may not have realized at the time how absolutely crucial the discussion was (or how grateful I am for her willingness to indulge me).  Even if the actual circumstances of my experience were not changing (i.e., sexual attraction to males), my perception and interpretation of that experience was changing dramatically.

A discussion of the meanings of these various words and phrases is beyond my ability here, so I’ll close with two suggestions.  First, if you have the time and resources and interest, do some research to discover the meanings behind different terms.  This is particularly difficult for Christians, since we simultaneously need to juggle the language that is considered appropriate in our culture (like you’ll find in this somewhat political guide) with language that is consistent with a distinctly Christian perspective on sexuality; and depending on your beliefs, those two worlds may or may not overlap, and the language appropriate for people who share your beliefs may be different from the language appropriate for people who believe otherwise.  If you’re willing to explore the fascinating jargon, you’ll be able to choose the words you use purposefully and speak without hesitancy.

But if you don’t have the time or resources or interest—and believe me, I understand that we can’t all be experts on everything—then I believe the most responsible action is to pay close attention to the ways LGBT (or same-sex attracted, or homosexual) people in your life talk about themselves and to use the same language they use.  Grant them the charity of assuming they’ve given more thought to the implications of language than you have, unless you have done your research and have legitimate reasons to use different terminology, as some have and do.  Captivating conversations—and deeper understanding—can begin with the simple question, “I’ve noticed you describe yourself with the word _____.  Is there a reason?”

Above all, recognize the immense power of language to shape reality, and make sure the words you use are shaping the kind of reality in which you desire to dwell.