Making pie out of picked cherries
Introduction to the series
The only thing wrong with being queer is how some people treat you when they find out.
A bold statement, I agree. But I stand by it, using it as a lodestone for my novels and other fiction. And as I’ve observed or participated in debates about whether it’s true, I’ve been fascinated by what appears to be a pretty clear delineation between flawed assumptions that are not based on religious beliefs, and equally flawed assumptions that are.
Many people who condemn homosexuality do so based on very few scriptural references and ignore the context of those references. That is, they pick the low-hanging cherry right in front of them and run before examining where that cherry was on the tree, where that tree is in the orchard, or what the heck that orchard is about anyway. I intend to put those cherries not so much back on the tree but more into the context of everything around them. Hence, the title of this series.
The non-religious assertions I hear tend to be based on feelings—feelings that are held up as facts. Although getting someone to let go of their feelings is nearly impossible, in the hope of getting at least some people to think (rather than feel), I do my best to discredit these mistaken assertions using facts that come from science, and conclusions based on logic. In the process, I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing “alternative facts.”
Facts are great. But when they come against the brick wall of religion? Stymied. Every time. Science is fact-based. Religion is faith-based. If we try to treat them the same, we do a disservice to both. But the brick wall of religion has some permeability. Bricks, after all, are themselves fairly porous, and removing a few old, cracked bricks does not cause the wall to collapse, especially if we replace them with new ones or—better yet—with a window that lets us see what’s on the other side. So instead of throwing facts at this wall, in my writing I stand back and examine the bricks themselves
FIRST, A FEW FACTS
“...findings suggest that the hypothalamus is organized in a way related to sexual orientation.”
We’ve known since 1991 that in gay men, the portion of the hypothalamus that responds to pheromones is twice as large as that in straight men. And a report from 2005 from the National Academy of Science, reported in The New York Times, shows that gay men respond to pheromones the same way as straight women. This means they have no physiological, sexual response to women.
“Christian theologians have long pointed to the absence of animal homosexuality as evidence that humans oughtn’t to be doing it, either.”
“...Thomas Aquinas argued that homosexual behavior in humans is wrong precisely because it doesn’t occur between animals.”
Despite the famous Thomas, shepherds have known since the year dot that roughly nine rams out of every hundred or so will refuse to mount ewes and will chase the other boys around. In the past few decades, zoologists have discovered homosexual behavior in roughly 1,500 different species. And in some species, a reliable percentage of animals are not bi; that is, they go for members of their own sex exclusively. So contemporary science has proven religion wrong on this count.
FAITH VS. RELIGION
The difference between faith and religion has helped me weave religious themes into my fictional work without hitting my readers over the head with religion. (One reviewer said he missed the religious underpinnings in one of my books, even though the primary characters were named Paul, Christopher, and José Jesus. Oh, well; I tried.) While many people use the terms religion and faith interchangeably, when I examine them closely what I see is this: Faith is belief in something you can’t prove. Religion is a system for applying faith. I stopped reading Sam Harris’ book The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason when I realized that although he puts himself forward as an expert, he doesn’t distinguish between these two terms.
My own background is the Episcopal Church, which I took very seriously until sometime in my mid-teens. Since then, I’ve become fascinated by various religious traditions, how they differ, and how they are the same. I now consider myself a pantheist. But in terms of scripture, it’s Christianity I know the best, so it’s Judeo-Christian scripture I address when looking for loose and damaged bricks.
Neither Judaism nor Christianity arose suddenly out of the dust from which Adam was supposedly born. Their scriptures, also, were not born whole. Even though the New Testament took a lot less time to pull together than the Old Testament, it took well over a hundred years and came about because of some very human decisions regarding what should be included.
The Bible itself is not a book. It’s a collection of books that were written over millennia. Each of these books was delivered to a specific group of people, in a specific place, under specific geo-political situations, and with life priorities different from ours today. When any book of the Bible was delivered (however it was delivered), the people who received it were living hand-to-mouth, with none of the amenities or social infrastructure we enjoy today.
“…the spilling of semen for any nonprocreative purpose—in coitus interruptus (Gen. 38:1-11), male homosexual acts or male masturbation—was considered tantamount to abortion or murder.”
For example, anyone without children would need to rely upon their neighbors for support when they got to be old. You know, like, 35, when their teeth are falling out, and their bones are misshapen from overwork and undernourishment. So children were essential for everyone’s sake. And two men or two women who tried to live as a couple would be knowingly setting their neighbors up for hardship at some point in the future.
Then there was that pesky, patronistic, outdated conviction, held by all people alive when any book of the Bible was delivered to them, that all the essentials for a new human life were contained in male ejaculate. As theologian Walter Wink puts it in his Biblical Perspectives on Homosexuality :
“The Hebrew prescientific understanding was that male semen contained the whole of nascent life. With no knowledge of eggs and ovulation, it was assumed that the woman provided only the incubating space. Hence the spilling of semen for any nonprocreative purpose—in coitus interruptus (Gen. 38:1-11), male homosexual acts or male masturbation—was considered tantamount to abortion or murder.”
Yikes. Well, between the absolute need for children and the belief that a man releasing his essence anywhere other than where it might produce a child was (gulp) murder, is it any wonder that the people at that time, in that place, in that situation would label homosexual activity evil?
What about our time? Our place in history? Our understanding of biology? Where life once would have been seen as attributed only to the male, we now know that the woman’s contribution (the egg) is so much larger than the tiny little sperm that a comparison is ridiculous. We also know that she contributes four chromosomal legs each time, where he contributes four only when it’s a girl. And even his Y chromosome, with three legs, contains less than 75% of what’s in her X. So there’s a lot more of Mommy’s DNA running around out there than of Daddy’s.
“Overall, same-sex married couples had a higher median household income than opposite-sex married couples: $107,200 and $96,930, respectively.” (U.S. Census)
Then consider this: The U.S. Census tells us (2020) that married male couples earn more than married mixed couples. This means that as a group, gay men pay more taxes. These taxes support the schools, libraries, health care, police and fire departments, and all governmental agencies that benefit the children of straight couples. And gay couples have fewer children per capital to take advantage of these benefits. So gay couples are supporting the offspring of straight couples. And with more earned income, they are more likely than not to be able to support themselves in their dotage. This is a complete flip, an about-face, a 180-degree shift from what life was like when biblical scripture was written.
Do we think that maybe, just maybe, times have changed? That how we live has changed? That what and whom ancient scripture condemns needs to be reassessed? And yet, other than the occasional new edition or new translation, biblical scripture hasn’t changed in two millennia.
This post is an introduction to a series I’ll be writing (“Making pie out of picked cherries”), in which I examine the bricks in that wall. The ones in the wall that reason keeps bumping up against. The ones that are showing cracks or are crumbling or that have fallen out completely, leaving gaping holes. I’m hoping to replace them with a few new bricks, and maybe the occasional window so we can see what should be on the other side of that wall. So we can see what belief in the Bible should really be about: Love.
In future posts of this series, I’ll cover the “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” argument, how the story of Sodom and Gomorrah is not about homosexuality, and other topics still bouncing around in my head.
Occasionally someone asks whether my stories are autobiographical. Odd, since my novels feature gay teens and men, and I’m a het/cis woman. But really, anything I write has at least bits of me in it. This means that—fascinated by comparative religion as I am—religion finds its way into my work.
In my novel For Love of Self, my main character, Spencer Hill, is a Unitarian Universalist (UU) minister. In Chapter Two he delivers his very first sermon to his new congregation (don’t panic; it’s short). While I am not UU, that sermon is one I could have given, myself. If you’re curious, I’ve recorded it here.
I’m an inveterate observer of human nature, writing novels about all kinds of people, some of whom happen to be gay or transgender or bisexual or intersex—people whose destinies are not determined solely by their sexual orientation or gender identity. Check out my work on my website.
