There’s a troubling trend within the church today. More and more, we see well-meaning believers drawn to teachings that seem compassionate, nuanced, and inclusive—yet when held up to the light of Scripture, they fall devastatingly short. This isn’t just about theological differences; it’s about the integrity of the gospel itself. What happens when we begin redefining sin, softening the call to repentance, and allowing culture to shape our doctrine rather than the Word of God?
I see this happening in movements like the Revoice Conference, the teachings of Preston Sprinkle, and a local group called Sacred Spaces. At first glance, they may seem like voices of grace, but when we dig deeper, they reveal a troubling departure from biblical truth. And because I love Christ, love His Word, and love His people, I cannot stay silent.
Revoice and the Error of “Side B” Theology
The Revoice Conference is one of the most prominent platforms advocating for what is known as “Side B” theology. This framework teaches that individuals can embrace a homosexual identity while remaining celibate. The problem? It keeps believers tethered to an identity Christ came to redeem them from. Scripture does not call us to “manage” sin; it calls us to mortify it (Colossians 3:5).
Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” Our identity is not in our past sins or even our temptations—it is in Christ alone. But Revoice encourages believers to hold onto a label that Scripture never affirms, subtly legitimizing an identity that Christ calls us to leave behind.
The Bible is unambiguous when it comes to sin. Romans 6:6 says, “We know that our old self was crucified with Him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin.” Holding onto a “gay Christian” identity is not the picture of freedom that Christ offers—it is a distortion of biblical sanctification.
Preston Sprinkle’s Compromising Theology
Then there’s Preston Sprinkle. Many Christians appreciate his conversational approach to difficult topics, but the danger lies in his use of postmodern ambiguity. He claims to uphold a biblical sexual ethic, yet his teachings often lack clarity, leaving room for dangerous interpretations. His emphasis on “pastoral care” often comes at the expense of doctrinal truth. True pastoral care doesn’t sidestep repentance—it calls people to it.
Sprinkle engages in dialogues with affirming voices, treating them as equal conversation partners rather than correcting their errors with Scripture. This sends a mixed message to those who look to him for guidance. The call of a faithful shepherd is not to entertain multiple perspectives but to stand firm on God’s Word. Isaiah 5:20 warns, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness.”
There is a stark contrast between being loving and being affirming. True love never leaves someone in their sin but points them to Christ for transformation.
Sacred Spaces and the Unbiblical Notion of “Unconditional Love”
If you live in my area, you may have heard of a group called Sacred Spaces. At first glance, their mission appears to be about providing a safe place for people wrestling with faith and identity. But here’s where things take a dangerous turn: Sacred Spaces redefines love in a way that Scripture does not.
One of their recent posts said, “As Christians, we may feel compelled to immediately share our convictions regarding sexual ethics when someone we love comes out as LGBTQ+. But what if the truth they most need today is God loves them unconditionally and accepts them as they are?”
This sounds nice, but it is completely unbiblical. Nowhere in Scripture do we see God accepting people “as they are” without a call to repentance. Yes, God’s love is immense—but it is a love that transforms. It is a love that says, “Go and sin no more (John 8:11). It is a love that sent Christ to the cross to pay the penalty for sin, not to leave us in it.
Sacred Spaces promotes the idea that people should be able to “live authentically without fear of judgment.” But what does Scripture say? “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). If there is no judgment, there is no need for the gospel. Without judgment, there is no need for Christ’s atoning sacrifice. And without repentance, there is no salvation.
What If Someone You Love Identifies as LGBTQ+?
I know this is a deeply personal topic for many. Some of you reading this may have friends, family members, or acquaintances who are involved with groups like Sacred Spaces or who have attended a Revoice event or something similar. It gets tough when someone we love identifies as LGBTQ+. We want to love them well, and the thought of them cutting off the family or walking away from us is painful. I won’t sugarcoat it—it will hurt. No blog post of mine can soften that reality.
At the end of the day, however, we must ask: Who will we answer to? God. Our love for Him and our commitment to His Word must come before all else. Loving someone does not mean affirming their sin; it means pointing them to the truth of Jesus Christ.
Jesus made it clear that following Him may bring division: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Matthew 10:34-35).
Yes, it will hurt. And yes, we may lose relationships because of our stance on biblical truth. But we are called to trust in the sovereignty of God. He is the One who draws people to repentance, not us. We can pray, We can lean on the Lord. We can find community with others who are walking through similar trials. And if that loved one does become a “prodigal,” we pray, pray, and pray some more—knowing that if God calls them back home, we will rejoice like the father in the parable of the prodigal son, ready to throw a celebration (Luke 15:20-24).
True Love Calls for Repentence
Sisters, we are living in a time when biblical truth is being watered down to make it more palatable to the world. But our calling is not to be palatable—it is to be faithful.
The love of Christ is not a soft, mushy acceptance that leaves people in their sin. The love of Christ is sacrificial, cleansing, and transformative. The true gospel is one that calls us out of darkness and into marvelous light (1 Peter 2:9). It is a gospel that demands repentance but also offers grace for those who truly turn to Him.
As believers, we cannot stand by and let these distortions take root in our churches and communities. Faithfulness to Scripture matters more than cultural acceptance. The world may call us unloving, but we must stand firm in knowing that true love tells the truth.
As believers, we must remember Paul’s words in Galatians 1:10: “For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
True love tells the truth, even when it is hard. Standing firm in biblical truth may cost us relationships, but we answer to God alone. “Buy truth, and do not sell it; buy wisdom, instruction, and understanding.” (Proverbs 23:23).
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I appreciate your desire to uphold Biblical truth, and certainly think this is an important conversation! I’ve been involved with Side B ministries for a while, and gotten involved with Sacred Spaces more recently. In those contexts, I’ve seen firsthand how many people in this space are striving for holiness, not celebrating sin. In my experience, identifying as “gay” in this context isn’t about rejecting new creation, but about honestly naming one’s experience while committing to faithfulness. It is a descriptor that allows a person to build bridges with people who have similar experiences. Sanctification isn’t about erasing every struggle but surrendering them to Christ daily. I mean, Romans 7 provides a good example, if you we want to engage with Scripture about it. I’d love to hear more about how you see this playing out in real pastoral situations … what has shaped your understanding of how Side B Christians navigate their faith?
Thank you for engaging with this post. I appreciate your desire for holiness and your willingness to have this conversation. I understand that many in Side B spaces and groups like Sacred Spaces sincerely want to be faithful to Christ. However, my concern is not just about intentions but about whether the theological framework itself is biblically sound.
The issue here is identity. Scripture never defines believers by their sin struggles, past or present, but by their new life in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17). While I understand that some use the term “gay Christian” simply to describe their experience, the problem is that Scripture does not give us that category. We don’t refer to ourselves as “lying Christians” or “thieving Christians.” We don’t tell someone recovering from addiction to embrace the label of “addicted Christian.” Even those who struggle with anger or violent tendencies do not identify as “murderous Christians.” Why, then, should same-sex attraction be treated differently?
You brought up Romans 7, and I think that’s an important passage to consider. Paul is absolutely transparent about his ongoing struggle with sin, saying in Romans 7:15, “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” However, we need to look at Romans 7 in its full context. Paul is describing the battle between the flesh and the Spirit, but he does not embrace sin as part of his identity. Instead, he cries out in Romans 7:24-25, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”
Then, in Romans 8, Paul immediately shifts to the victory we have in Christ, saying, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1) and urging believers to put to death the deeds of the body (Romans 8:13). Paul acknowledges the struggle, but he does not name himself as a “Sinful Christian.” He acknowledges the war against sin, but he identifies with Christ—not with his temptations.
Yes, we all wrestle with sin in different ways. Yes, sanctification is a process. But Scripture never instructs believers to embrace an identity tied to their sin, even in a descriptive sense. Instead, it calls us to put sin to death and walk in newness of life (Romans 8:12-13, Colossians 3:5-10). 1 Corinthians 6:9-11 says:
“Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.”
Paul doesn’t say, “And such are some of you, but now you’re trying really hard to manage it.” He says, “such were some of you.” That is past tense. It doesn’t mean believers never struggle with sin again, but it does mean our identity is no longer in that sin.
If we wouldn’t tell a struggling alcoholic to call themselves a “drunken Christian,” why should we encourage someone wrestling with same-sex attraction to use a similar framework? The goal of sanctification is not to merely “manage” sin but to be transformed by Christ. That transformation is not instantaneous, but it is real, and it is what we should pursue.
I appreciate you sharing your perspective and would love to hear how you reconcile Side B theology with passages like 1 Corinthians 6:9-11. How do you see that applying to identity in Christ?
I really appreciate you taking the time to engage deeply on this! This is an important conversation, and I’m happy to continue in whatever way is most helpful. If you’re open to it, I’d also be glad to introduce you to people for whom this is not just theoretical, but an active, daily struggle–people who are carrying this cross and striving for holiness, yet often find themselves unseen or misunderstood in the Church.
I think we actually agree on a great deal–especially that our ultimate identity is in Christ and that sanctification is about transformation, not just managing sin. Where we seem to differ is in how we understand identity language and its role in faithfulness.
You argue that Christians should not define themselves by sin, and I completely agree. But when Side B Christians use the term “gay,” it’s not about claiming sin as an identity–it’s about honestly acknowledging a persistent experience. Just as someone might say they are a “Christian with OCD or ADHD,” an “autistic Christian,” or a “Christian who experiences depression,” this language isn’t about defying sanctification but about naming a reality while striving for holiness. In some cases, we even use similar language for moral struggles — “recovering alcoholic Christian” isn’t a claim that drunkenness is part of their identity, but an honest admission of an ongoing battle.
That’s why I don’t think 1 Cor 6:11 applies in the way you suggest. Paul is talking about those who were actively engaged in sin, not those who continue to struggle against temptation. If “such were some of you” meant that no Christian ever wrestled with greed, lust, or anger again, we’d all be in trouble! The Christian life is not about pretending those struggles vanish but about bringing them under Christ’s lordship daily.
Pastorally, this language matters because it shapes whether people can find community and discipleship. Many Side B believers I know have been deeply helped by having words to articulate their experience and connect with others who are walking the same road of obedience. If we deny them that language, we risk isolating them instead of discipling them. And this isolation doesn’t just affect them–it also affects their families, who often feel torn between their love for their children and their desire to be faithful to Scriptures. Because these issues are so rarely talked about well in the Church, many end up unsure of where they belong at all. Tragically, most people who come from traditional or conservative faith backgrounds and confess to having an LGBTQ+ orientation or experience don’t end up receiving discipleship that enables them to think and work through it faithfully, nor do they simply go off to join an affirming church. More often, they drop out of Church and, in many cases, leave the faith altogether–feeling that there is no place for them to wrestle honestly within the body of Christ. (A good book on this is Andrew Marin’s “Us versus Us.”)
So, I’d love to hear your thoughts: If a Christian experiences same-sex attraction persistently and remains celibate out of obedience to Christ, how do you think they should describe themselves? What term would you propose that allows for honesty while upholding holiness?
Thank you for your thoughtful and respectful engagement. I genuinely appreciate the time you’ve taken to present your perspective, and I believe conversations like these sharpen our understanding of biblical truth.
I agree that we both value faithfulness to Christ and that sanctification is about transformation, not just managing sin. However, where we differ is in how we understand identity and the role of biblical language in discipleship.
You mentioned that Side B Christians use the term “gay” not as a claim to identity but as an acknowledgment of experience. However, as I stated in my first response, Scripture never teaches us to define ourselves by our temptations, weaknesses, or struggles. Instead, it commands us to identify wholly in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17, Galatians 2:20).
We don’t see Paul referring to himself as a “Christian thief” despite once being a persecutor of the church, nor do we see believers in the early church calling themselves “lustful Christians” or “adulterous Christians.” Instead, Paul’s language is always past tense when referring to sin (1 Corinthians 6:9-11).
I recognize your example of a “recovering alcoholic Christian,” but even that language is problematic when applied to identity. A Christian may struggle with alcoholism, but their primary identity is not in their addiction. When we connect identity to a sin struggle, we risk subtly legitimizing it rather than emphasizing the call to renewal.
You mentioned that 1 Corinthians 6:11 does not apply in the way I suggest because Paul was addressing people who were actively engaged in sin, not those who still struggle with temptation. However, this interpretation misses Paul’s primary argument about identity.
Paul writes:
“Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.” (1 Corinthians 6:9-11)
This passage does not mean that believers never face temptation again. Rather, Paul is making a clear distinction between those who once lived in sin and those who have been transformed by Christ. The phrase “such were some of you” is an identity statement. If Paul only meant that they were “actively engaged in sin before conversion” but now were just “struggling to manage it,” he would have said “such are some of you, but you’re working on it.” Instead, he uses past tense because their identity is no longer in that sin.
Yes, Christians continue to wrestle with temptation, but there is a difference between struggling against sin and identifying with it. A believer who struggles with greed does not call themselves a “greedy Christian.” A believer who struggles with drunkenness does not call themselves a “drunken Christian.” The same principle applies here.
You stated that language matters because it provides a sense of community and discipleship. While I agree that discipleship is critical, the language we use shapes how we think about ourselves. When we accept terms like “gay Christian,” we are subtly reinforcing the idea that same-sex attraction is a fixed and defining characteristic rather than a temptation to be fought.
This is where I believe the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4) is often misused. Many claim Jesus “affirmed” her, but in reality, He confronted her sin and pointed her to salvation. Jesus never told her, “I love you just the way you are, and that’s enough.” Instead, He called her to repentance and new life. The repetition of phrases like “God loves you just as you are” and “God’s love is unconditional” is misleading when used without biblical context. Of course, God’s love is great and undeserved, but it is not a love that affirms us in sin. It is a love that redeems and transforms (Romans 5:8, 1 John 1:9).
You asked how a celibate Christian with same-sex attraction should describe themselves. I believe the best response is the same for every believer:
“I am a Christian. My identity is in Christ alone.”
If additional clarity is needed, one could say, “I am a Christian who struggles with same-sex attraction but is striving for holiness.” The key distinction is that the struggle does not define them… Christ does.
When we abandon biblical categories for cultural ones, we risk losing the clarity of Scripture. Paul didn’t create categories for “gay Christians,” “lustful Christians,” or “thieving Christians” because Christ came to renew us completely.
I agree that many struggling with same-sex attraction feel unseen in the church. That is a failure of discipleship, not of biblical truth. The solution is not to adopt language that muddies biblical identity but to ensure that those struggling are discipled well in a gospel-centered community.
The church must be a place where believers can confess struggles openly while being pointed toward the hope and power of Christ’s sanctifying work. However, creating new identity categories is not the way forward. The way forward is to anchor identity firmly in Christ and trust in the transformative work of the Holy Spirit.
I truly appreciate this conversation because I believe we are both striving for biblical faithfulness. My concern is that Side B theology softens the radical nature of the gospel’s transformative power by allowing identity to remain entangled with sin struggles.
Paul’s statement in 1 Corinthians 6:11 is not about pretending struggles vanish but about the radical transformation of identity that happens in Christ. Jesus calls us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him (Luke 9:23). That includes denying the right to define ourselves by anything other than Christ.
Continuing our little thread here, Melissa, but we seem to have hit the max for comment depth 🤭
Thank you for your thoughtful and careful engagement with this conversation. I appreciate your desire to be faithful to Christ and to the transformative power of the Gospel, and that these discussions sharpen our understanding of biblical truth. Totally agree.
It does seem to me that our core differences go beyond mere questions of terminology to some systematic assumptions we are making about how we understand identity, transformation, and the ongoing nature of sanctification. So rather than merely defending language, let me explore some of the underlying theological questions with you in greater detail, with lots of juicy Scriptural passages for you to consider 🤗
1. Biblical Identity: What Does It Mean to Identify in Christ?
You argue that identity should be rooted solely in Christ and that Scriptures do not teach us to define ourselves by our struggles or temptations. I wholeheartedly agree that Christ is our primary and defining identity! However, the Bible contains instances of people acknowledging aspects of their ongoing human experience in ways that do not contradict their identity in Christ. Paul, for example, calls himself the “chief of sinners” (present tense, 1 Tim 1:15), even though he is fully justified in Christ. The same Paul also refers to himself as a Jew (Acts 21:39), a Roman citizen (Acts 22:28), and an apostle (Rom 1:1). These are not ultimate identities, but they are meaningful descriptors of his lived experience.
Could it be that calling oneself a “gay Christian” — as Side B believers do — is not an attempt to define oneself apart from Christ, but simply an honest acknowledgment of an aspect of one’s experience, much like calling oneself a “Christian with anxiety” or a “Christian with chronic illness”? Does recognizing the reality of same-sex attraction as a persistent experience necessarily mean defining oneself by it? And why are some Christians so concerned about micromanaging and policing other people’s self-definitions? This seems to me to be a huge distraction and exercise in missing the point, a la the sectarian controversies in the Corinthian community (1Cor 3:4-9). It completely misses the rule of love on which our identity in Christ is evidenced in the world (Jn 13:35, 1Jn 3:14-16, 4:7-21), and the subtle ways in which our faith-based identity projects can become idolatrous (a la Jesus’s critique of the religious leaders of his day, with whom he was much more direct and aggressive than the sexually immoral). What if instead of defending holiness, we are making purity of language an idol at the expense of people’s actual discipleship?
2. The Nature of Transformation: Does Sanctification Always Remove the Struggle?
I completely affirm that Christ transforms us. But transformation does not always mean the removal of struggle — sometimes it means learning to live faithfully within it. Paul speaks of his “thorn in the flesh” (2 Cor 12:7-10) as something God does not take away, but through which His grace is made sufficient.
When Paul says, “such were some of you” (1 Cor 6:11), I agree that he is speaking about a fundamental transformation of identity. But does this mean that temptations and struggles themselves vanish? If so, then why do believers continue to struggle with pride, anger, lust, and greed even after conversion? And if a Christian with persistent same-sex attraction has committed themselves to celibacy and faithfulness to Christ, how is their experience different from, say, a Christian with ongoing struggles against greed or anxiety? Again I think of Rom 6-8. Despite the new life in Christ outlined in Rom 6, Paul’s struggle with sin is emphatically present tense in Rom 7. The breakthrough that moves us into Rom 8 is not the removal of temptation — nor even the complete cessation of sin! — but that, thanks to the victory that God has achieved in Christ, “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Indeed, the yearning for the new creation to which this majestic Gospel inclines makes most sense when we consider Paul to be a person who is intimately aware of the reality of the ongoing weight and struggles of his brokenness and the brokenness of the world, for which there can be no hope besides a gracious God graciously completing that good work of grace that he had begun.
It should be noted (although this would be a quite lengthy aside, so I will just mention it briefly here and we can discuss it in more detail later on if you are interested) that early Christianity regarded marriage and family life, not as the ideal, but as a kind of begrudging concession to Christians who couldn’t live up to the standard of martyrdom, monasticism, and/or missionary life, which are the full and proper outworking of our self-offering in love after the image of a God who pours himself out for us fully in Christ (see 1 Cor 7:1-9, 25-35, Mat 19:11-12, 22:30). Under this standard, every expression of sexual love — including and especially marital relations! — became suspect as tethering us to this world, rather than shaping and stretching our hearts towards the next. (Certain east Syriac traditions even went so far as to restrict baptism to those who would opt for complete chastity — even within marriage!)
I kind of suspect that the fixation on LBGTQ+ sins is a way of deflecting our own sense of shame and uncertainty about the ambiguities of sexuality under the impossible rubrics of Gospel righteousness. Biblical wisdom applies here. John tells us that if we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus cleanses us from our sins (1Jn 1:7). Paul says that whatever the light shines on not only becomes visible, but becomes light (Eph 5:13). This is a kind of honesty that is difficult to come by in the Church, because when we are a people who split hairs over how we’re allowed to talk about our persistent and ongoing struggles, it sends a clear message — not only to queer people, but to everyone — that the name of the game is conforming to the visible standard, and not talking about the parts that don’t fit.
It has been humbling to discover in having the privilege of getting to know and walk with a number of LBGTQ+ people — both those who are seeking to follow Jesus, and even those who are not — that the clarity they have developed in talking honestly about their experiences and desires have allowed them to develop a sophistication in discussing things like boundaries, consent, and power dynamics in relationships produces relational health that is often missing in Christian couples (which I know, being a pastor myself 🤭) This to me is the good fruit of shining the light honestly on our places of shame and uncertainty, whereas the darkness of trying to micromanage language around these things to keep it neatly cropped to biblical precedent reliably results in the systemic patterns of hypocrisy and sexual abuse at every level that are endemic in many church structures across denominations. “By their fruits you shall know them,” (Mat 7:16) and indeed, witnessing some queer relationships more marked by the fruit of the Spirit than most Christian households has forced me to ask difficult questions, not only about our discipleship of queer people, but our discipleship of all people; to wonder if the modern American church isn’t more concerned with social control than the Gospel; to ask if our zeal on these matters of semantics may not be a zeal according to knowledge (Rom 10:2), and may, in fact, be a sign that we are seized by the spirit of those who would scour heaven and earth for a single convert to make twice the son of hell as we are ourselves (Mat 23:15).
All of this, and I STILL hold to a traditional view of marriage between one man and one woman as the proper context for sexual intimacy, because I believe it to be the stronger case biblically and historically, AND because I find the testimony of those who self-identity as queer and yet sacrificially hold themselves bound to this standard to be so compelling — both as a witness to the queer community, and to a church so embroiled in an idolatry of the family and a certain form of respectable middle class American existence that they can’t hold space for people with stories like these. But for many Christians, it doesn’t matter, because willingness to police other peoples’ identity claims has become THE test of orthodoxy … nevermind that the majority of American Christians have a shaky view on the Trinity, poor grasp of Christ’s full divinity and full humanity, flirt with ideas like reincarnation, etc.
3. Pastoral Clarity: Does Avoiding “Gay” Language Help or Hurt?
I completely agree that words shape how we think about ourselves. The concern that using “gay Christian” could reinforce same-sex attraction as a fixed identity is valid, and I understand why you’d prefer the language of “a Christian who struggles with same-sex attraction.” But in practice, does avoiding that language actually help people grow in holiness? Or does it leave them feeling unseen and isolated?
Many Side B believers have found that using “gay” as a descriptor actually allows for deeper discipleship, because it fosters honest conversations and accountability rather than shame and secrecy. If refusing this language discourages people from seeking biblical community, does that serve the goal of sanctification? I will tell you what I have seen, and that is actually, most Side B Christians are really sensitive to this dynamic: they will read the room, and depending on the audience, they WILL describe themselves as a “Christian who struggles with same sex attraction” if they think that “gay Christian” is going to cause a problem. Or not talk about it. They develop this amazing capacity to mask in certain Christian environments. But is that really healthy for anyone?
4. The Church’s Discipleship Challenge: What is the Best Way Forward?
You rightly point out that the Church has failed to disciple those struggling with same-sex attraction well. I absolutely agree. But I would ask: If most LGBTQ+ people in conservative churches don’t become affirming–they just leave–is this purely a failure of discipleship, or could it also be a failure to offer language and community that helps them remain? The statistics are quite shocking (again, this is Us Versus Us) — 93% of LBGTQ+ people who have left the church say it was NOT because of doctrine; 68% say they would love to find a way back. The problem is, we don’t have answers for them that actually work for their lived experience. And believe me, they have tried. This isn’t an ideological question for them that can be solved by having the right bible answers memorized and an ability to defend them apologetically. It is an everyday struggle of their lived experience they cannot ignore, and for which (more often than not) they receive scrutiny rather than sympathy.
If the goal is to help Christians with same-sex attraction stay rooted in Christ and flourish in holiness, then the question should not be, “What language feels theologically safest to us?” but rather, “What language best equips people for lifelong faithfulness?” If many Side B Christians have found “gay Christian” to be helpful in that pursuit, shouldn’t we consider that practical fruit?
Again, I deeply respect your desire to remain faithful to Scripture, and I think we ultimately share the same goal: to help believers walk in holiness, fully identifying with Christ rather than being defined by sin. My concern is not just theoretical, but pastoral: How do we best help people live faithfully?
I’d love to hear your thoughts on whether sanctification always removes struggle, and whether avoiding “gay” language has actually been effective in making LGBTQ+ people feel seen in the Church while calling them to holiness rather than (as it seems to me) just causing them to hide or leave. I truly appreciate this dialogue and am grateful for your willingness to engage in it.
Thank you again for such thoughtful engagement, Barefooter (I wish I knew your real name). I genuinely appreciate your pastoral heart and willingness to dive deeply into these critical conversations. It’s evident we both have a strong desire to see believers thrive in their relationship with Christ and pursue genuine holiness.
I want to clarify something important that came up in your last response: I wholeheartedly agree that sanctification does not necessarily mean the complete removal of struggle or temptation. Indeed, we are called daily to mortify sin (Romans 8:13), and this is a lifelong battle for every believer, regardless of the particular temptations we face. My emphasis on identity is not to deny the reality or persistence of struggles but to highlight the biblical pattern of not defining ourselves by them.
Paul’s language in 1 Timothy 1:15 and 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, for instance, clearly demonstrates humility and honesty about ongoing struggles. Yet, crucially, Paul never uses these struggles as defining labels of his identity. They drive him toward dependence on Christ and deeper identification with his Savior, not his struggles.
You asked, “How do we best help people live faithfully?” I believe we do this by consistently and lovingly pointing one another to Christ, His sufficiency, and the transforming power of the Gospel. Love and repentance are not opposed; they go hand in hand. Biblical love calls us toward repentance, even when that truth can feel uncomfortable or painful (Romans 2:4).
I agree deeply with you that we must pastorally and compassionately disciple those struggling with sin and temptation. The solution, however, is not in creating new identity categories but in building church communities where transparency about struggles is welcomed and met with gospel-centered care, accountability, and encouragement toward holiness.
Ultimately, the transformative work in believers’ lives belongs to God alone. We proclaim truth, disciple faithfully, and trust in God’s sovereign power to bring hearts to repentance and sanctification. Our confidence rests in Him.
If you’re interested in exploring further, authors like Christopher Yuan (particularly his book Holy Sexuality and the Gospel) and Rosaria Butterfield (especially The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert) have deeply shaped my understanding. Both approach these topics biblically, compassionately, and from personal experience.
Thank you again for this fruitful dialogue. I’ve gained helpful insights and perspectives from our interaction and sincerely appreciate the gracious manner in which you’ve engaged. While we may not fully agree, it’s clear we both long for believers to flourish in Christ. That shared desire is deeply encouraging.
Warm regards,
Melissa
Hi Melissa. I appreciate your passion for holiness and Scripture. It’s clear from your writing that words are important to you, and you’re willing to bravely speak up for truth. I admire these traits.
I have one clarifying question for you based on the conversation above – do you believe that church groups like Celebrate Recovery, Divorce Care, and Grief Share are also not using the right approach then? Because in these groups, folks show up and identify with a sin (“porn addiction”, “alcoholic”, “divorced”, “depressed”) in a Christian setting while striving for holiness.
Disclaimer: I don’t personally believe that every divorce is a sin or that being depressed is a sin. But I know in some Christian circles, they are considered such, hence them being included in the above.
Genuinely not trying to have this be a “gotcha” question; trying to get clarity on your perspective.
Hi Danica,
Thank you for your thoughtful comment and kind words, I sincerely appreciate the opportunity for clarification!
Regarding your question about groups like Celebrate Recovery, Divorce Care, and Grief Share, you raise a valid point. While I believe it is healthy and necessary for Christians to openly acknowledge struggles, temptations, and difficult life circumstances, my primary concerns with groups like these are more theological and centered around issues of identity.
One area of concern is how some of these groups might encourage participants to identify themselves by their struggles (for example, “Hi, I’m John, and I’m an alcoholic”), rather than emphasizing their primary identity as a new creation in Christ. Scripture teaches us clearly in passages like 2 Corinthians 5:17 and 1 Corinthians 6:11 that our identity as believers is fundamentally rooted in Christ, not in our past or current struggles.
Additionally, groups that incorporate secular psychological methods or vague “Higher Power” language alongside biblical teaching can sometimes blur the clarity of biblical truth. I believe deeply in the sufficiency of Scripture and the centrality of Jesus Christ and His Gospel for genuine transformation and sanctification, rather than merely managing or coping with sin struggles.
While many individuals have undoubtedly experienced growth, healing, and support through programs like Celebrate Recovery, Divorce Care, or Grief Share, my concern remains with ensuring that our identity, discipleship, and sanctification are clearly and consistently rooted in biblical truth rather than therapeutic or secular frameworks. To be clear, my intention isn’t to dismiss the genuine good these groups can accomplish. Many believers undoubtedly experience real encouragement, accountability, and transformation. My main encouragement would simply be that churches using these programs diligently maintain a clear biblical foundation, emphasizing Christ explicitly as the only source of lasting change, identity, and healing, rather than subtly allowing therapeutic or secular methods to overshadow Scripture.
I hope this clarifies my perspective, and thanks again for engaging in this meaningful conversation.