Homosexual practice is indeed “the great sexual sin of our day” in this specific sense: It is the worst form of consensual sexual immorality currently being promoted in our society. Our culture doesn’t yet promote bestiality, which is worse. Nor does it promote to the same degree adult-consensual incest, polyamory, or adultery, three severe offenses that are nevertheless not as severe as homosexual practice.

J. R. Daniel Kirk, professor of New Testament at evangelical Fuller Seminary has a chapter on “Homosexuality under the Reign of Christ” in his book Jesus Have I Loved, but Paul? (Baker Academic Press, 2011), 175-92. It is a work that causes me some concern and to which I invite his response. In it Daniel presents himself as someone who (1) does not yet believe that homosexual practice is right but (2) could still be persuaded that committed homosexual unions are right. Although he says that he is not yet convinced, he argues as someone for whom the jury is still very much out. My own experience in the past with self-styled evangelicals who present themselves in this manner and as regards this issue is that it is only a matter of time before they switch views or make public a switch previously made in private. Let us hope that it is otherwise here.

Holding Open the Possibility That a Case for Homosexual Practice Can Be Made

In a good part of the chapter (176-84) Daniel makes the case that Paul and Jesus do indeed appear to be opposed to homosexual practice per se. His argument could be made significantly stronger than it is and at a few points his reasoning is not what it could be, but at least he makes a case with some good arguments. Both Romans 1:26-27 and 1 Corinthians 6:9 show that for Paul “from first creation to new creation, the primal story of male-female marriage is an inseparable part of the framework of God’s provision for human sexual expression…. Paul makes the claim that homosexual practice is not a faithful way to enact the story between inauguration of new creation and its consummation” (180). At the same time Daniel argues that the context for Rom 1:26-27 shows that no one has grounds for “moral superiority” (179-80), which appears to tie into a more problematic view that he expresses elsewhere, namely, that homosexual practice is not “the great sexual sin of our day” (see below). He rightly notes that Jesus’ “silence” on homosexual practice has to be set against the backdrop of Jewish law and the views of Jewish contemporaries. Jesus “gave his tacit consent [to] the idea that homosexual practice [was] a violation of the divine intention for sexual expression” (181). It would have been more helpful if Daniel had recognized that Jesus’ limitation of two persons to a sexual union (whether concurrently or serially) was derived from the duality of the sexes given in creation according to Gen 1:27 and 2:24. In a section entitled “Inclusive Social Justice?” (182-84) Daniel helpfully argues that analogies between homosexual unions on the one hand and Jesus’ outreach to social outcasts or our changing views on slavery and women’s roles on the other miss the mark. All this is to the good.

However, Daniel then unfortunately follows this up with a section entitled “Arguing for Homosexual Practice” (184-86) in which he contends that “for all that the biblical evidence weighs against [homosexual unions], I do believe that a case can be made” for committed homosexual unions (184; my emphasis). This he outlines in two steps.

First, those supporting homosexual unions in the church must affirm “the biblical standard of lifetime loyalty to one partner who is also in Christ” (184). This is what most promoters of homosexual unions in the church already do, so there is little here that would prevent anyone from recognizing the validity of homosexual unions immediately. Second, Daniel states that appeal could be made to Gal 3:28 (“there is no ‘male and female’” in Christ) and to the early church precedent in Acts 15 of accepting uncircumcised Gentiles who exhibited the power of the Holy Spirit. I have shown in my work why both appeals are erroneous but, unfortunately, Daniel nowhere indicates use of my work (at least not in the footnotes; he does, however, cite Richard Hays and William Webb, along with supporters of homosexual unions such as Dale Martin, Luke Timothy Johnson, and Douglas Campbell). Since proponents of homosexual unions already make these appeals, one wonders why Daniel is still waiting to “come out” with full support for committed homosexual unions.

Daniel claims that we have a “genuinely new thing” today: “Christians who are both striving to faithfully follow God and simultaneously living within committed homosexual relationships,” a phenomenon that “must be carefully weighed when we consider whether homosexuality is [sic: Christian homosexual unions are] … a new work of the Spirit” (186). A key point that Daniel overlooks is this: The reason why we don’t have Christian examples of this in the first century is because Gentiles who were still engaging in homosexual practice were not baptized into the faith; the leadership of the church recognized that such behavior was automatically incompatible with a saving profession of faith. In addition, as I have shown in my own work, there are plenty of examples for both the conception and the existence of “committed homosexual relationships” in the Greco-Roman world. It is not by a long stretch significant “new knowledge.”

Charging with Violation of the Golden Rule Christians Who Don’t Advocate for State Supports for Homosexual Unions

In the next section, “Love Your Neighbor as Yourself” (186-90), Daniel then undertakes a misguided and, in my view, dangerous promotion of a civil homosexualist agenda. He contends that the Good Samaritan parable (Luke 10:25-37) and the Golden Rule (Luke 6:31; Matt 7:12) suggest that Christians should give serious thought to supporting at least “something like marriage” for same-sex “consenting adults,” along with full medical insurance and inheritance benefits for one’s “stay-at-home [same-sex] partner” (p. 189). He states that “the issue of state-sanctioned marriage versus state-approved civil partnerships is complex.” Daniel does not come down on one side or the other, but what is interesting here is that he seems to present these as the only two valid options: either homosexual civil unions or “gay marriage.” In his book he presents “something like marriage” and the other benefits as “issues I wrestle with,” though the context suggests little doubt since he concludes: “It is incumbent on us to show the homosexuals in our communities that we will work tirelessly for them to have what we would never stand to be deprived of ourselves” (190; my emphasis). Certainly we who are married would not want to be deprived of our marriage. A remark that Daniel makes in a BakerAcaemic blog post dated Feb. 7, 2013, entitled “Homosexuality under the Reign of Christ: Responses and Further Reflections,” also shows little reservation: “The chapter [on homosexuality in my book] argues that we advocate for civil equality and protection to secure the same freedoms and benefits for my neighbor who disagrees with me as I would want for myself” (my emphasis), embracing in effect the whole panoply of “sexual orientation” laws now in place in California.

I think this is a terribly misguided interpretation both of the Good Samaritan parable and the Golden Rule. Let me begin with what should be an obvious observation: Jesus himself would have categorically rejected such a deduction from his own parable and rule—and this not only for the issue of homosexual unions. If Daniel’s application of the Good Samaritan and Golden Rule were correct, then by the same reasoning Jesus would have had to withdraw his challenge to polygamy implicit in his divorce-remarriage statements (Mark 10:2-12; Matt 19:3-9), since here he predicates a creation-based twoness of the sexual bond on the twoness of the sexes. He would also have had to embrace adult-consensual incestuous unions. To cite Daniel’s own logic: “If the people I loved and trusted counseled me against marrying a certain person, would I want them to have the power to stop that marriage against my will and against the will of my would-be partner?” (emphasis his).

The argument that Daniel poses, “If you don’t want someone to do this to you, then you shouldn’t do it to them,” simply doesn’t stand up to scrutiny since it throws out of the equation the question of whether the unions in question are injurious to their relationship to God, self, and the other. (Imagine teenagers throwing back such a principle to their parents!) If in fact homosexual practice is abhorrent and a gross indecency in the eyes of God, as Scripture declares it to be, then, no, it wouldn’t be loving for culture to provide supports and incentives for me to enter into such unions. Moreover, such state actions lead inevitably to the state taking sides against Christians who do not support such unions, declaring such Christians to be bigots on the level of racists, attenuating their civil liberties accordingly, and indoctrinating their children in public schools to follow such a program. Either Daniel is naïve on this score (but how could any evangelical Christian living in California be that naïve?) or Daniel doesn’t care about these consequences (which is perhaps more alarming).

The Good Samaritan parable doesn’t indicate that there should be state support for building a temple in Samaria or for eliminating from the Judean canon of Scripture those texts that regard the Davidic dynasty as God’s choice—all Samaritan views. The Good Samaritan parable is simply a story about not excluding a Samaritan and other heretics from the meaning of “neighbor” in the Levitical command to “love one’s neighbor as oneself.” The lawyer asks “Who is my neighbor?” in order to develop a narrow interpretation of neighbor that will allow him not to love others. Jesus resituates the lawyer from the vantage point of safety to a vantage point of insecurity, identifying him with the man lying half-dead by the side of the road who now wants anyone who might help him in his moment of need to become a neighbor to him. In short, Jesus in effect says, we can be remarkably inclusive about the meaning of neighbor in Lev 19:18 when we’re facing a great crisis and need help.

Yet reproof is not excluded from such love of neighbor. The context for the second greatest command in fact mandates rebuke, paraphrasing: “You shall not hate, take revenge against, or hold a grudge against your neighbor. And if your neighbor does wrong, you shall reprove your neighbor lest you incur guilt for failing to warn him” (Lev 19:17-18). Jesus most likely echoes this text in his injunction in Luke 17:3-4: “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him, even if seven times in the course of the day he sins against you and seven times turns to you saying, ‘I repent.’” We should want true friends to rebuke us when we do wrong rather than to advocate that church and state sanction cultural supports for immoral sexual behavior. Not only is love not antithetical to such rebuke, it positively demands it.

Daniel’s Concluding Thoughts Rejecting the Bible as Rule Book and Questioning the Bible as Last Word

In his “Concluding Thoughts” (190-92) Daniel begins by chastising any proponents of homosexual practice who argue that God is not concerned about what we do in the bedroom or that the mere existence of a biological urge is self-validating. I concur with his points. Yet then he appears to level his strongest critique against those who regard homosexual practice as sinful. He attacks on two fronts.

First, Daniel asserts that “the Bible is not a rule book but a story of God’s plan of redemption” (p. 191). Unfortunately, his point is not quite accurate. The Bible comprises a series of writings ranging over a millennium, most of which contain large sections involving rules. There are also narratives of God’s work in the world and, in addition, theological ruminations drawn from such narratives. It is not all one thing or all the other but a composite of genres. His formulation, “not this but that,” is a false dichotomy. The whole of the Bible may not be a rule book but it does contain rules that God expects to be obeyed. One can counter that we don’t obey all the rules. But then the counter can be countered by noting that the biblical prohibition of homosexual practice is obviously a core value insofar as it is a value proclaimed pervasively (throughout all parts of Scripture, explicitly or implicitly, where a male-female prerequisite is everywhere assumed), absolutely (no exceptions anywhere within Scripture unlike even incest and polyamory), strongly (it is regarded in Scripture as a particularly severe sexual offense; see below), and counter-culturally (no society or movement in the ancient Near East or in the Greco-Roman Mediterranean basin was more strongly opposed to homosexual practice than ancient Israel, early Judaism, and early Christianity).

Even more unfortunate is Daniel’s reiteration of his earlier point: “While the position against homosexuality clearly has the better of the biblical argument, that might not mean that the church has thereby received the last word that God has to say on the subject” (191; my emphasis). May I suggest that this is a stunningly weak posture against homosexual practice by a professor teaching seminary students at a purportedly evangelical seminary? To be sure, Daniel wrote his book a few years ago (published 2011, presumably written in the year or two preceding). But his 2013 blog makes the same point:

There have been times in the history of the church when God decided that what was unequivocally required earlier was no longer needful. Indeed, Paul depicts as enemies of the gospel those who would require gentiles to comply with the eternal, covenantal sign of circumcision…. I suggested that we should be aware of the possibility that the Spirit might make such a demonstration today. We are dealing with a genuinely new moment in the history of the church: homosexual couples openly in committed relationships and striving to faithfully follow Jesus…. Those of us from backgrounds that are not affirming need to listen to the stories of gay friends, especially Christian gay friends.

On the last point it is precisely this constant bombardment of the church (for decades!) with “the stories of gay friends, especially Christian gay friends” that has worn down the church’s resistance to this immorality. These “stories” have as their intent the erosion of a male-female requirement for sexual relations insisted upon by Jesus himself. They have a desensitizing effect and we see the predictable results in the mainline denominations where the “stories” have been told for longer periods of time than in evangelical circles. If the church were to be bombarded with stories of positive, adult-consensual polyamorous or incestuous relationships (and perhaps that it is the next stage), the church would also find its stance on monogamy and exogamy, respectively, eroded over time.

Daniel’s insistence that we “need to listen” more and more to such homosex-affirming “stories” is antithetical to the message of Ephesians that “sexual immorality and impurity of any kind . . . must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints” (5:3), by which is probably meant not only any report of incidence but also attempts at advocacy. Apparently, Daniel supports the existence of the so-called “One Table” group on the Fuller Seminary campus as a “safe place” where “gay Christians” can tell their “stories” that advocate for church’s embrace of “committed homosexual relationships” and thereby undermine Fuller Seminary’s own stance against homosexual practice.

On his 2013 blog post Daniel also adds:

We will become increasingly aware, in the years to come, that the sexual mores of the ancient world were part of a system of assessing value, and of viewing the world more generally, that we no longer hold to. If we believe in the fundamental equality of men and women as made in the image of God, and if we believe in the equality of people across all social ranks, then we disbelieve major pillars on which ancient aversion to homosexual activity leans. There are other reasons for opposing it, such as those I outline in my book, but a growing awareness of the cultural context of the Greco-Roman world will likely create additional challenges for folks wrestling over the inclusion of homosexuals with same-sex partners.

It is true, as I have noted in my own work, that misogyny is part of some Greco-Roman indictments of homosexual practice and that this seeps into some Jewish critique as well (Philo of Alexandria is a case in point). However, as I have also shown, this aspect is not central to the Greco-Roman indictment as a whole (much less the Jewish-Christian critique), which rather depends on an argument based on anatomical and physiological complementarity. There are debates in antiquity between proponents of male-male love and proponents of male-female love. In those debates the proponents of male-female love are far more affirming of women than the advocates of male-male love.

Daniel’s Concluding (But Misapplied) Thoughts on the “More Important” Tragedy of Christian Failure to Love

Daniel’s second attack on “traditional” Christians is (to his mind) “perhaps more important” than the question as to whether homosexual unions are right or wrong: “Many of us need as much rescuing from our failure to relentlessly pursue the good of our neighbor as our neighbors need rescuing from their failure to submit their sexual desires to the reign of Christ” (192). What does Daniel mean by “our failure to relentlessly pursue the good of our [homosexual] neighbor”? Daniel is only specific at two points earlier: Negatively, we shouldn’t carry “God Hates Fags” signs (agreed!) but, positively, we should support state-sanctioned marriage or “something like marriage” for homosexual unions and the full range of “sexual orientation” laws (as noted above, a point with which I strongly disagree).

Beyond that, Daniel talks vaguely elsewhere of “rancorous, destructive, and otherwise unloving behavior” (186). What counts for Daniel as “rancorous”? Does Daniel count my own work under this rubric (including now this very article)? Is this why he didn’t make any reference to my work in his chapter on homosexuality? In his blog post, Daniel adds this: “We who are heterosexuals in predominately non-affirming social locations need to stop treating homosexuality as though it were the great sexual sin of our day.” He seems to imply that to treat it as such is “rancorous, destructive, and … unloving.”

If Daniel thinks that holding such a view is an indication of a lack of love toward persons engaged in homosexual practice, he is (I believe) in error. Homosexual practice is indeed “the great sexual sin of our day” in this specific sense: It is the worst form of consensual sexual immorality currently being promoted in our society. Our culture doesn’t yet promote bestiality, which is worse. Nor does it promote to the same degree adult-consensual incest, polyamory, or adultery, three severe offenses that are nevertheless not as severe as homosexual practice. It does, to some extent, promote the offenses of premarital sex and divorce/remarriage but there is no evidence in ancient Israel, early Judaism, or early Christianity that these offenses were viewed as equally outrageous as homosexual practice.

There are many scripturally based arguments for the view that homosexual practice was regarded in ancient Israel, early Judaism, and early Christianity as a particularly severe form of sexual immorality. For one thing, it was viewed as a direct assault on the foundation of human sexual relationships given in creation: “male and female [God] made them” (Gen 1:27) and “For this reason a man may … become joined to his woman/wife and they [or: the two] shall become one flesh” (Gen 2:24). For another: The prohibitions both of incest and (in the NT) of polygamous unions appear to be predicated on the prior concept of a male-female prerequisite (for the latter see especially Jesus’ remarks in Mark 10:2-12, noted above). For another: There is the very negative description of male homosexual practice in Lev 18:22 and 20:13, where it is specially tagged, among the other sexual offenses listed, as a to’evah (“an abominable or abhorrent practice”; compare also the very negative description by Paul in Rom 1:24-27, noted below). For another: The Old Testament contains a series of stories in which homosexual practice factors prominently in God’s severe indictment: Sodom, the Levite at Gibeah, and the so-called “sacred ones” (qedeshim; feminized male cult figures who served as passive partners in male homosexual acts). For another: Extra-biblical texts in early Judaism confirm the great outrage felt by Jews toward homosexual intercourse.

Why does Daniel feel the need to reduce the severity of homosexual practice? Perhaps he is laboring under the misapprehension that in order to love an offender one must first reduce the severity of the offense. This is certainly not how Jesus operated in his outreach to “(sexual) sinners and tax collectors.” Rather, Jesus taught that the greater the offense, the greater the sense of gratitude on the part of the offender who repents and is forgiven (Luke 7:40-47).

Daniel is right to read Rom 1:18-32 as setting a trap for the Jewish interlocutor but wrong to conclude from this that Paul wanted his readers to think that homosexual practice was no worse a sin than any other sin, sexual or otherwise. All sin may be equal in one respect: Any sin can get one excluded from God’s kingdom if personal merit is the basis for entering God’s kingdom. That does not mean, however, that for Paul all sin was equally severe in all respects (a completely untenable position so far as the total witness of Scripture is concerned). Paul singled out homosexual practice in Rom 1:24-27 from among other sexual offenses as a horizontal complement to his vertical attack on idolatry. Both idolatry and same-sex intercourse were particularly profound examples of suppression of the truth about God and the way God made us, transparently obvious in the material structures of creation. For Paul, as for Jews generally, homosexual practice was that form of consensual human sexual relations most clearly “contrary to nature.” Indeed, as the intertextual echo in Rom 1:23-27 to Gen 1:26-27 indicates, Paul viewed homosexual practice as an extreme self-“dishonoring” or self-degrading, “indecent” or “shameful” act, one that threatened to mar the creation stamp of God’s image on “male and female.”

I am fully in agreement with Daniel that Christians must love those who engage in homosexual practice. Yet I get the impression from reading Daniel’s chapter that love for him would preclude the kind of response that Paul gave regarding the incestuous man in 1 Cor 5: As a remedial (not punitive) measure, remove temporarily from the life of the community the unrepentant offender, who is in danger of being excluded from the kingdom of God (6:9-10). For which one of us, applying the Golden Rule in the truncated way that Daniel does, would want to be put on church discipline, even though it would be for our own good? One can hardly argue that Paul misunderstood the meaning of love here. Not long after his intense indictment of Corinthian toleration of the incestuous man, Paul gave his encomium on love (ch. 13). Surely he does not so blatantly contradict himself in such short compass? As Paul insists at the end of ch. 5 in a rhetorical question, “Is it not those inside the church that we are to judge?”

Conclusion

In short, Daniel’s views on homosexuality should raise concerns for an evangelical seminary that is supposed to be committed to the authority of Scripture in its designated core values.

On the positive side, Daniel recognizes that “the position against homosexuality clearly has the better of the biblical argument.” Moreover, he appears at present to regard homosexual unions as sinful.

On the negative side, (1) he presents himself as someone who believes that a good “case can be made” for accepting homosexual unions as a work of the Holy Spirit and that Scripture “might not” be “the last word.” (2) He believes that such a case could be made by holding homosexual unions to the same standards for longevity and monogamy to which heterosexual unions are held (or, better, elevating the standard for both groups) and by appealing both to the “no ‘male and female’” comment in Gal 3:28 and to the precedent of including uncircumcised Gentiles in Acts 15—erroneous arguments that have already been employed by proponents of homosexual unions in mainline denominations. (3) He thinks, accordingly, that patient display of otherwise good Christian lives by persons engaged in homosexual practice could demonstrate “a new work of the Spirit”—actions that have already happened (obviously, engaging in homosexual practice doesn’t turn a person into a complete moral werewolf!). (4) He further believes that the church should spend more of its time hearing “gay”-affirming “stories” so that the church can spend more energy calling into question the validity of its stance on a male-female requirement for valid sexual activity. This suggests that he is a strong supporter of the homosexualist group “One Table” at Fuller Seminary, which basically functions as “fifth column” against the seminary’s stance on homosexual practice. (5) He also thinks that it is likely a violation of the Golden Rule for Christians not to support state-sanctioned marriages or “something like marriage” for same-sex couples and not to support the full array of “sexual orientation” laws. Finally, (6) he appears to be more worried about those who believe marriage to be a particularly severe, foundational violation of sexual ethics than he does about the effects of homosexualist advocacy on church and society.

All of this makes one wonder how much of Daniel’s current reluctance for expressing outright support for homosexual practice is based on his reading of Scripture and how much is based on the fact that he teaches at an institution that would not allow such outright support. It is, at least, a reasonable question (to which I do not presuppose to know the answer). Yet, whatever the answer to that question, Daniel’s views strike me as already in tension, if not actual conflict, with Fuller Seminary’s own stated mission. To be sure, this may not make any difference to the current president of Fuller Seminary, Dr. Mark Labberton, who wrote a glowing blurb for the book as a whole when he (Dr. Labberton) was an associate professor of preaching at Fuller. (Before I realized that President Labberton had written a strong endorsement for the book, I had presumed that the matter would be of concern to him.) It is at the very least, however, a matter worthy of discussion both within and outside the walls of Fuller Seminary.

I close by saying that I welcome Daniel’s response. Perhaps I have misunderstood Daniel at some point, either because I have not read Daniel’s remarks correctly or because Daniel has expressed himself badly. Possibly, in response to this piece, Daniel wishes to pull back to a degree on what he has written or qualify it further. I am willing to make any adjustments to this article if Daniel can show me either that I have misunderstood what he has written or that he has now changed his position in some way. I believe that further discussion, civilly engaged in, can only be for the ultimate good of Fuller Seminary in particular and of American Evangelicalism generally.

Robert A. J. Gagnon, Ph.D., is Associate Professor of New Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. This article appeared on his blog and is used with permission.