Beyond Affirmation: Where The Reformation Project Gets Queer Theology Wrong
When Archbishop Oscar Romero witnessed the impoverished suffering and oppression of the Salvadorian people at the hand of their government, he disrupted the status quo by exposing and naming the injustices.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, German pastor and theologian, refused to be silent and inactive in the face of the rise of Nazism. He disrupted the status quo by engaging in vocal and active resistance.
Julia Esquivel, Guatemalan theologian and poet, exposed the violent injustices in her country through her words. She disrupted the expectations of art and politics, providing a voice for the silenced as she called upon the church act.
Dr, Martin Luther King Jr., a Baptist minister and civil rights activist, broke the social norms racial convention, non-violently disrupting the white supremacy that had become the accepted reality, not only in society but also in the church.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu, a South African Anglican cleric, disrupted the iron fist of apartheid oppression that existed with the blessing of most white churches in the country, demanding a justice that was as radical in its resistance as it was in its call for forgiveness.
Each of these examples represent just a few moments in our history where faithful followers of Jesus defied the expectations and norms of societal and religious life to the face of systemic oppression. Formed and fueled by the prophetic imagination, they believed that the liberating work of Jesus in the Church and the world was not yet done. And out of their lives (and sometimes violent deaths), radical theologies have emerged that have guided generations to follow their example, leaving a legacy honoured by countless people- Christian and otherwise- the world over.
And yet, as is all too common, the power of domination endlessly creeps back into our hearts and institutions, centering authority around the few at the expense of the many. And while some examples of this trend reflect the most overt forms of discrimination, often it creeps in more subtly, couched in good intentions. Thus, the need for the prophetic disruption of the faith remains a necessity.
That is why I found a recent article posted by The Reformation Project (TRP) to be so troubling. Titled “Reform vs. Revolution: Distinguishing Affirming Theology from Queer Theology” the article delineates the differences they see between “Affirming theology” and “Queer theology”. Emphasizing their commitment to Affirming theology grounded in biblical authority and orthodox Christian beliefs, they highlight their view of Queer theology as a more radical, dangerously transgressive approach that fundamentally diverges from traditional Christian teachings on sexuality and gender. The article argues that while Affirming theology seeks the inclusion of 2SLGBTQIA+ individuals within existing religious frameworks, Queer theology adopts an anti-normative stance that challenges and reinterprets these frameworks in compromising ways.
To be clear, many people have been positively impacted by the work of this ground-breaking organization. And there is no question that TRP is motivated by the genuine intention of faithfulness to Scripture in their work to see the inclusion and affirmation of 2SLGBTQIA+ people in the Church. However, this article demonstrates the unfortunate truth that good intentions do not guarantee good outcomes. In fact, in this case, I believe they go so far as to ultimately harm 2SLGBTQIA+ people and the Church itself.
Affirming theology, as it seems to be understood by TRP and many Christians, seeks to integrate 2SLGBTQIA+ individuals into existing religious frameworks according to the historic and Biblical traditions of the faith. The problem with this well-intentioned commitment is that they are integrating queer people into the very systems that were responsible for our exclusion, often uncritically. The act of affirmation and inclusion, without addressing the inherent supremacies at the heart of the problem, simply puts a bandaid on a mortal wound. While Affirming theology might be good at making space for the presence of the other, all too often it fails to address the very core beliefs and practices that not only excluded us but actively did us harm for not meeting cisgender and/or heterosexual norms and ideals. In fact, inclusion was often predicated on our ability to emulate a version of those very norms.
Moreover, an increasing reality in many expressions of Affirming theology is its tendency to miss or ignore the need for intersectional liberation. Whether by intention or not, it too often aligns with established social hierarchies, privileging some identities over others accordingly. This piecemeal approach to inclusion fundamentally compromises the radical embrace of Christ and betrays the least of these that he embodies. As the stories shared earlier demonstrate, salvation- true and holistic liberation- cannot be partial, sequential, or conditional. None of us is free until all of us are free.
Conversely, Queer theology, like many of the other disciplines of theology that we explored at the beginning, was born out of communities marginalized by the dominant expressions and power structures. It functions in a necessarily prophetic role in religious and social discourse. The spirit of the prophetic imagination as expressed in Queer theology is meant to cast the light of truth on injustice and oppression wherever it takes root, namely on centers of power and calls for a mutual transformation. Further, it acknowledges and embraces the full spectrum of human experience and identity. It not only makes space for all at the table but also questions the very structures of the table itself, advocating for a faith community where all voices, particularly those at the intersections of marginalization, are not just heard but are integral to the shaping of our collective journey towards justice and inclusivity.
What is most troubling to me about TRPs presentation of these issues is how narrowly and selectively they represented both Queer theory and Queer theology, virtually erasing the breadth, depth, and diversity of wisdom and perspectives that come from these disciplines. They build a straw man, choosing examples that are among the most extreme, shocking, and offensive to their readers, reinforcing their position. Not only do they fail to give a broader, more honest representation, they refuse to engage in the possibility of truth even amidst the “offensive” itself- a common aspect of the prophetic witness in Scripture.
There are so many examples of profound and beautiful Queer theology that could have (and should have) informed their understanding. One beautiful example is “Queer Virtue: What LGBTQ People Know About Life and Love and How It Can Revitalize Christianity” by Rev Elizabeth M. Edman (Beacon Press, 2016), an exceptional exploration of how queer identity enriches and aligns with Christian faith, advocating for a more authentic and robust understanding of Christianity through the lens of queer ethics and theology. While there are many other examples, this book alone refutes the core of TRPs article. In the book, Edman reminds us that “the church itself must be a place where binaries are examined and challenged”, a central gift that Queer theology offers. Queer theology itself refutes and disrupts the binary of the “affirming vs. queer” premise of the piece, inviting us to consider more generative possibilities.
Without this kind of disruption, we fail to see how deeply historic inequalities, oppressive systems, and even active erasure have shaped our understanding of God, the Church, and the nature of faithfulness. A faith devoid of the distinct aspects of queerness that reflect unique aspects of the divine image we collectively reflect hinders all of us from deeper encounters with God, not to mention capacity to participate in the liberating transformation of the gospel.
As the Center for Prophetic Imagination said of these events, “Acceptance by an oppressive system will never remove the oppressive system. Affirmation is not and will never be enough”. In their attempt to protect the unchanging absolutes of God’s truth, TRP has become gatekeepers, mistaking supremacist postures for biblical normatives.
Like the examples cited at the beginning, Queer theology does not seek to replace one supremacy for another, but rather stands in prophetic resistance to the oppressive force of normativity. As a queer Christian who lives and works on several intersections of marginality, I have found Queer theology (and also Queer theory) to be indispensable to our common experience as followers of Jesus. To that end, it is not enough to make space for marginalized people within the compromised existing paradigms and systems. We must be willing to engage in the uncomfortable but necessary process of prophetic disruption in the hope of our mutual liberation. And disruptive voices, like many of those in Queer theology, are critical to that end.
Like any theological discipline, there is no “perfect version” of Queer theology- just as there is no perfect version of Affirming theology. Every human attempt to explain the vastness of the divine will inevitably fall short, some more than others. Given this, we can carefully discern the best of each expression of faithful pursuit without caricaturing and rejecting them based on inaccurate or unfair representation, as the TRP article sadly did.
While Affirming theology is a step in the right direction, it does not go far enough, especially if it fails to dismantle the very things that created the divide to begin with. The journey towards genuine inclusivity and justice requires the prophetic, transformative impulse of transgressive theologies- including Queer theology. Only by embracing this more radical approach can we hope to dismantle the oppressive structures that have long hindered the full realization of an inclusive, loving, and just faith community. I can only hope that The Reformation Project, and the wider Christian community, recognizes the hopeful promise that comes with such a disruption.
Jamie Arpin-Ricci is a bisexual author, award-winning activist, and the Co-Director of Peace & Justice Initiatives. He is also pastoral leader at Little Flowers Community, a Mennonite church in Winnipeg, MB, where he has served a largely 2SLGBTQIA+ congregation for almost 15 years. He was forced to resign from his ministry of 25 years for being fully affirming, facing coercion and death threats. Arpin-Ricci has provided community and support to countless 2SLGBTQIA+ people around the world for years.