"There were people in the church," he says, now speaking a pace more slowly, "who have thought for a long time that homosexuality is not a sin." There's a beat of silence, almost too long. "Yeah. I know, right? Not everyone in the church believes that being gay...or bi...or trans...or pan...is a sin. In fact, you would be surprised to know how many people don't. But you know what? Those people are often in the closet." He says those three words with somber, quiet force.
"When something's 'bad', nobody wants to be the one connected to it. Not even the messenger. You ever heard that phrase don't shoot the messenger? Well, people do. They blame the messenger. So, you're a straight pastor, you could get taken down, you could lose your job, for saying you've read all the things, you’ve done the research legwork, and you think maybe it's not such a bad thing after all to be attracted to a person with the same physical hardware as what you've got. Maybe the bodies we're in don't matter so much when it comes to who to love. Or even who we are."
There's another silence, and I hold my breath as he gives them a moment to digest.
"Maybe what matters is our hearts,” Luke continues, “and what's happening in there. You can be a good woman and love another woman. Because that's just who you find yourself more drawn to. Maybe—like some other things in the Bible, such as some dietary recommendations or other things reflecting the norms of that day—rules for who to love are actually kind of arbitrary.”
If the crowd seemed quiet, they go pin-drop silent right there, as Luke steps out on a thin limb, casting a degree of question on their holy book.
“I think if you are someone who believes that every word of the Bible is not just sacred, but also one hundred percent accurate as currently interpreted, you're probably not a member of this church. Because I don't believe that. And I've preached sermons for a long while that reflect that belief—that the book itself can be sacred, can be holy, without everything it says being something that applies to every person.
"Do you eat pork? Wear polyester? Do you have tattoos…‘cuttings in your flesh’ or ‘printed marks’ on your skin? What about being divorced? Those are things the Bible says are not okay. And frankly, no one's dying if they give up pork. It's not dangerous to give up pork. No one's hurt if we all give up pork. I mean, your feelings might be hurt. You might be crying for that bacon." I can see his smile on the small screen. "But you're not going to be hurt. In your heart. In your soul. It's not going to make you sad or lonely or feel like you can't go on with life. For giving up pork.
“But still, even though there are no big consequences to giving up pork….many of us choose not to give up pork. And the reason why is that bacon is incredible. And ham is awesome. I eat ham at Christmas with that glaze on it. Cinnamon glaze. It's good stuff. So we keep eating ham. And we keep divorcing when that seems right. And we get tattoos. And I'm not condemning these things. By the way. I think these things are part of life.
"What matters to me, is that you love the Lord. And that we seek the truth. And that we practice kindness, to ourselves and others, and we believe in the story of Jesus and the power that has. And that we open ourselves up to knowing that this life—in these bodies—isn't what our final destination looks like. This whole world is temporary. Our time here is fleeting. We know that. All that matters is that we love each other. And ourselves. And that's a thing, my friends. I've tried to talk about it here for a while. Loving ourselves is important. When we don't have love for ourselves, it's hard to feel it for anybody else. Love and gratitude. Appreciation. Gentleness. A spirit of forgiveness and generosity.
"I know we're in a world right now that can be individual-centric. And sometimes overly focused on the 'me' parts of life. But this is not that. This is something different. This is looking at yourself—as honestly as you can look—and really seeing what you see there. And look at what you could do better. Where you're being selfish or afraid, or weak. Or not giving your best. And you try to up your game.
“And then you look at what you can't change. The parts of you that are just you. The messy you, that just isn't going to have the cleanest car. The you that isn't organized and buys a planner every January first and doesn't fill it out. The you that isn't eating 'right' and doesn't know how to cope with a bad day right now any better than eating a big bag of donuts.