Remember that dress that tore the web apart in 2015? Many saw it as gold and white. Others saw it as black and blue. I used to be firmly on team “gold and white”. I never could see it as black and blue. I’d have sworn to my death that it was gold and white—apparently, it’s black and blue. This is clear in case you see it in a unique light.
Imagine a scenario with me. It’s a bit gruesome, my apologies. Imagine that a girl wearing that dress has been brutally assaulted and left for dead on the street. She’s bleeding profusely. A few passersby spot her, but to her peril, in addition they see the dress. One is convinced it’s gold and white. The other one is black and blue. They fight and argue in regards to the color of the dress for a solid quarter-hour. The woman bleeds out.
Abuse within the LGBTQ+ Community
June has been dubbed Pride Month. I’ve read my share of articles discussing the merits of such a thing. As a pastor, I’m confronted with this issue in June and all year long. Christians need to know the way they need to respond. How will we love our neighbors if we disagree with them? Should we disagree with them? Is it possible for Christians to be affirming? Can you’re keen on someone and not affirm them?
To some, these questions are complex and nuanced. To others, there’s an obvious right and flawed answer—and that’s true for those on either side of the problem. I’m hesitant to liken this to a black-and-blue or gold-and-white dress argument. I feel most would say it’s on a unique level. But hang with me. I’m not attempting to say that the controversy isn’t vital—but that even vital debates shouldn’t take precedence over someone who has been brutally assaulted.
This is why I would like us to give attention to a terrific harm that befalls the LGBTQ+ community—intimate partner violence. One study has shown that “43.8% of lesbian women and 61.1% of bisexual women have experienced rape, physical violence, and/or stalking by an intimate partner in some unspecified time in the future of their lifetime, versus 35% of heterosexual women.”[1] Though it happens amongst gay and bisexual men as well, the rates will not be wildly different than those of heterosexual men.
LGBTQ+ women experience intimate partner violence at a staggering rate. And we want to discuss this.
Why Is Abuse a Crisis within the LGBTQ+ Community?
I say “fastidiously” because even asking the query of “why” is inching toward blaming the victim. If a young woman confides in you that she was sexually assaulted, it’s inappropriate to ask, “What were you wearing?” It doesn’t matter what she was wearing. Nor does it matter where she was or in what circumstance she had placed herself. She doesn’t deserve sexual assault. I feel Diane Langberg says this well:
Many years ago, I taught a seminary class on clergy sexual abuse. At one point within the lecture, I said, ‘As pastors, you’ll have power in your relationships with congregants…at all times. Whether you’re feeling powerful or vulnerable, at any given time, you’re the one with the ability in that relationship. Your words and actions carry authority. If a lady involves see you for counseling about her marriage and at some point, confused and eager for attention, she stands up and undresses in front of you, what happens next depends entirely on you. What she has done tells us some things about her, obviously. But what you do in response tells us about you. It tells us what you’re like within the presence of unfettered vulnerability.’ The classroom was very quiet.[2]
That is a terrific example because I do know our tendency in such a situation could be to position the entire blame on the lady undressing in front of a pastor. But the truth, which Langberg speaks to, is that if the pastor responds inappropriately toward her, it speaks volumes about his character. She, at that moment, wouldn’t deserve abuse.
I do know that the response of some Christians to those statistics might, sadly, be initially cold-hearted. We might hear these statistics and say, “That’s the consequence of their rebel. If you don’t live God’s way, that is what’s going to occur.” While that will thoroughly be true, it’s not the suitable query or response to such a disclosure.
Yes, I feel that living in response to God’s design for the world will result in human flourishing. And I also consider that we’ve all, ultimately or one other, made shipwreck of God’s good design. We have, to make use of the language of a well-liked children’s book, placed ourselves “where the wild things are.” While which may promise a little bit of freedom, it ultimately results in loneliness and difficulty. It’s a spot of harm as an alternative of happiness.
Yet, I feel it could be helpful—though I’m not the one to do it here—to ask good questions on these relationships. Why is that this so prevalent within the relationships of lesbian and bisexual women? Why will we not see the identical higher rates amongst men? If abuse is fundamentally about control, is there a novel temptation in these communities?
I don’t know the reply to those questions. But I feel they must be explored. And I’d especially like to see them explored from a Christian perspective, but a Christian perspective that doesn’t quickly grab for the “easy” answers which either teeter towards victims blaming or plunges headlong into that “reason”.
But I suppose even arguing these questions could leave us drawing swords while a hurting person is bleeding out in front of us. It’s time to maneuver on to how we may also help.
Remember, We Are All Made in God’s Image
Let’s return to that young lady bleeding and broken on the street. If you’re even a half-decent person, if you see her harmed, you don’t ask questions on her past, her political affiliation, which church she is a member of, or whether she thinks pineapple belongs on pizza. You help her. Why?
First, it’s because life is precious. That’s why you’d perhaps even stop for an injured animal. All of life was created by God and is priceless. But secondly, human life is eternally priceless because we’re made within the image of God. If the woman were significantly harmed, and so was her cat, you’d hopefully go to her first. People are made within the image of God. This is true in case you are LGBTQ+, heterosexual, or asexual. Abuse denies this and desecrates the image of God. I like how Pierre and Wilson say this:
God created people in His image to represent Him on the earth. This means every one is granted the privilege of using his or her personal capacities to bring order and goodness to the world as a representative of God (Genesis 1:26-31). All sin is a failure to be like God within the use of non-public capacities, but abuse takes this a step further by looking for to diminish the non-public capacities of another person. Abuse desecrates what God made sacred: the personhood of those that bear His image (James 3:9).[3]
Abuse harms the personhood of the one being abused, and it also has dulling and crippling impact on the image of God within the abuser. When abuse happens, God’s image is doubly trampled. This is why Christians should reply to such—whatever the sexuality of the one abusing or being abused.
I’d also argue that addressing the abuse takes precedence over addressing the problems of sexuality. I say this due to how Jesus interacted with those in need of healing and rescue. In Luke 13, when Jesus healed a person on the Sabbath, the religious leaders were indignant. “He could have done that on the subsequent day!” they railed. He likened it to being in bondage to Satan for eighteen long years. Abuse is bondage.
I do know that many would also say that inordinate sexuality also keeps on in bondage. Personally, I agree (and that’s whether you are heterosexual or homosexual). But let’s take into consideration this for a moment. Imagine an individual is in one in every of those Iron Maiden torture devices from the Middle Ages, and the door is about to be shut. A passerby happens to note that the victim is handcuffed. If you would like to rescue the person, your best choice isn’t to remove the handcuffs; you possibly can pull them out of the Iron Maiden.
An abuser will implant themselves within the very soul of an individual and wreak havoc. They are the lens through which every thing is seen. They are the Iron Maiden that encloses the victim—surrounding with the jagged edges of physical assault, emotional manipulation, spiritual deprivation, and more. If you focus here, I bet you’ll be afforded a chance to speak in regards to the handcuffs.
So, how will we help those that are in an LGBTQ+ relationship that’s experiencing intimate partner violence (IPV)?
How Can We Help the Abused within the LGBTQ+ Community?
I’m assuming here that you will have a relationship with the person. If they’re minors, your first call must be to the authorities AND to child services (call each). If they will not be a minor it’s essential to allow them to lead the charge in how quickly they “get out”. Your first priority is their safety. That might mean contacting the authorities and helping them discover a protected place or a shelter. Ensure the victim that they will not be alone and that help is on the market. But you can’t force this help upon an adult.
Secondly, it’s essential to give emotional support. That means listening without judgment and reassuring them. This isn’t the time for lectures. It’s to assist them tell their story and get their voice back. And to walk with them through whatever steps they should take. You also can connect them to skilled resources and counselors.
You must also know that for those throughout the LGBTQ+ community, a few of these doors of help have been shut to them. Or they may perceive them to be shut. Will they feel comfortable sharing their story together with your pastor? Are they going to think about that church member to be as “protected” as you concentrate on them?
There is far more that could be said here. My goal in this text is just to lift awareness and encourage our churches to like those that are hurting. This is the guts of Christ for those created in God’s image. Work to revive the image of God and free them from their abuser. Point them to the liberty in Christ and marvel at how far-reaching that freedom might stretch.
[1] https://ncadv.org/blog/posts/domestic-violence-and-the-lgbtq-community
[2] Diane Langberg, Redeeming Power, 25
[3] When Home Hurts, Jeremy Pierre and Greg Wilson, 40
Photo Credit: Image created using DALL.E 2024 AI technology and subsequently edited and reviewed by our editorial team.
Mike Leake is husband to Nikki and father to Isaiah and Hannah. He can also be the lead pastor at Calvary of Neosho, MO. Mike is the writer of Torn to Heal and Jesus Is All You Need. His writing house is http://mikeleake.net and you possibly can connect with him on Twitter @mikeleake. Mike has a recent writing project at Proverbs4Today.
