In other words, where many conservative Christian leaders denounce LGBTQ identity, many are unwilling to do the relational work of walking alongside same-sex-attracted Christians as they attempt a very difficult thing: lifelong celibacy. The Nashville Statement offered a strong “no” to gay identity and behavior, but didn’t offer a positive vision and vocation, a “yes,” to those Christians beyond the avoidance of certain behavior and labels. In this way, Revoice puts flesh and

On the other hand it was also super convicting and confronting. I can wallow at times that making friends as an adult who just moved back to the country is a lot more difficult than I expected, but at the same time I have almost completely given up in making an effort locally and it was something I was just beginning to think about not long before the conference. It also woke me up to the reasons why. On the one hand my online community is a good one and they have been there

At one point in her keynote, Eve Tushnet commented that the Revoice community is “united largely by its sacrifices.” Reading between the lines, I heard a quiet, deft refutation of one of the criticisms of Revoice — that we shouldn’t let something “broken” about us mark and define our community. Eve pointed out that we are choosing not to be united by some fallen aspect of our hearts but by how we choose to respond to that fallenness. I appreciated Eve’s point because, really,

But unlike its more progressive counterparts—from Q Christian Fellowship to The Reformation Project to any number of mainline Protestant activist organizations, such as More Light (PCUSA) or Integrity USA (TEC)—the Revoice conference billed itself as an effort to fortify “LGBT people who adhere to the historic, Christian sexual ethic.” All of the keynote speakers and workshop leaders professed their adherence to the Scriptural teaching that sexual intimacy belongs within male

At most Christian conferences I’ve been to, the musical worship often seems like a feel-good warm-up routine to get people feeling spiritual. At Revoice, the songs (a refreshingly seamless mix of classic and contemporary) took on new depth and meaning. Lines like “And as he stands in victory, sin’s curse has lost its grip on me,” and “My sin, not in part, but the whole is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,” and the entire song, “Nearer, My God, to Thee” — which I wil

I asked a lot of people what had been the highlight of the conference for them, and everybody gave the same two answers. Most people mentioned the worship services first. I totally agree. I don’t cry, y’all–even the first ten minutes of Up just make me misty–but I was wiping away tears during the final worship service. To see all these people who had worshiped and praised our God for years, for decades, in churches where they didn’t know any other gay people who were trying t

Last weekend, I attended the Revoice Conference in St. Louis. The conference focused on “LGBT+ flourishing in historic Christian traditions.” At 400 registrants, it sold out nearly two months before the conference, and it brought together Christians from a number of denominations interested in what it means to be LGBT+ and committed to a traditional Christian sexual ethic. Even though I could only attend one day of the conference, I learned a lot. Here are four things I reali

It’s good to grieve, and as a future counselor I understand that grief and sadness have a real place in our lives. Grief gives us an appreciation for what we’ve lost as well as a renewed connection with our heart. It is easy to discount and discredit our emotions and to simply become numb, but grief and the process of grieving allow us to come to terms and acknowledge the depth of our real feeling. However, grief has its season and may eventually run its course. It is somethi