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Wow. So much has been said since my last long comment. I’m having a hard time collating it all into a cohesive whole, so I think I’ll just ramble on until I feel that I’ve said what I need to say.

First, @mlbolangerauthor , I wanted to address your question about how to market our undeniably Christian books without getting boxed into the “Christian fiction” corner, and at the same time not coming across as using a “bait-and-switch” tactic. It’s a hard question, and one that I haven’t personally had to deal with yet, so pardon me if my thoughts are scattered. I have had zero marketing experience.

I think it’s safe to say that we shouldn’t hide the faith based elements of our books, but at the same time I think there are ways that we can re-frame the discussion by using different ‘catch-phrases’ in our marketing. I think Christian authors who have the goals and intended audience like you do should find new ways to describe their books. Avoiding cliches like “faith-based”, and “Christian fiction,” and instead focusing on how your books challenge the norm may be a better way to market them. Just like in storytelling, conflict can be a selling-point.

I feel like I’m the least qualified person to say anything more about marketing, though.

Second, when it comes to how the church approaches and deals with LGBTQ individuals, I think there are at least three different ways that people look at it, and this causes a lot of confusion and contradiction – both when someone tries to address the real problems from the inside, and when people try to approach the church from the outside. Rather than blanketing a “hypocrisy” label across all the church, then, because of these contradictions, I like to break it down into the individual perspectives that create this patchwork of contradictory approaches.

1. There is the perspective that those who identify as LGBTQ and/or are part of those communities, have done so as a result of choosing to do so. There is a whole segment of the church (my own parents included) who find the argument that people are “born that way” extremely problematic and would never acknowledge it as true. From their perspective, then, LBGTQ individuals are confronted with temptations to sin just like everyone else, but they have made a series of choices to take the route towards those specific sins.

I think there is a measure of truth to this perspective. It is one thing to engage with temptations, but it is another thing altogether to use them as identifiers. So, those who have joined the LGBTQ community and live in a lifestyle that accommodates their particular orientation did make a choice to do so. So in that sense, this first perspective is right. There is a measure of choice involved. However, to say that they chose to go down that route in the first place, and were not born with an internal proclivity to those temptations – that’s another statement altogether.

Here’s where this perspective effects our discussion. People who have this viewpoint are not going to approach the LGBTQ question with an attitude of compassion first and foremost, because in their minds, these people have made a series of evil mental/spiritual/physical choices that resulted in the struggle that they have. So their solution is repentance and a new series of choices that will reverse (or even undo) these sexual proclivities and/or orientations. So then, there’s no need to address this issue in fiction. There’s no need for a lowering of defenses for open communication to take place. There’s no need for prolonged discussion. The message is clear and simple: repent and change your ways.

While not 100% incorrect, this is a tone-deaf, highly flawed, and incomplete answer; because of that, it does more to drive these individuals away than to draw them in.

2. Second, there is the “accept you as you are” position, which does not offer the Gospel, real grace, or hope for change, but only presents people with bland acceptance. It is a manifestly unChristian perspective, and frankly does nothing to attract people to Christ, because those individuals can find the same kind of acceptance within their own circles – people with whom they have far more in common.

3. Third, there is the perspective that I hold to, which is that every individual is born with unique proclivities to unique temptations. Everyone is born broken, and in very different ways. There are an infinite number of ways to draw a line crooked, not just one way. So when we maintain that all people are born under the mastery of sin, we are not saying that all people face the exact same temptations. Far from it.

Instead, I believe that we are are all “born that way”, with respect to the temptations that we uniquely struggle with. That is, every one of us is broken and flawed in a specific way, with a peculiar conglomeration of proclivities and temptations that nobody else faces in the same combination. This levels the playing field between all people. So then, we do not approach an LGBTQ individual with the off-putting premise of, “You chose this for yourself!” Instead, we approach them with the premise that, “I too am broken in ways that I did not choose.”

This does not give room for fatalism, or for the excuse, “I can’t help it, I was born this way!” Yes, you were born this way. But we all were. And none of us has an excuse. To all of us, the Gospel comes and says, “I am your healing, I am your cleansing, I am your restoration, I am your purity.” To all of us, the Gospel then says, “Take up your cross, and follow Me.” To all of us, the Gospel says, “Be holy, as I am holy.” To all of us, the Gospel says, “Be merciful, as your heavenly father is merciful.” To all of us, the Gospel is the same: “You are broken, and you cannot help or change yourself, but Christ is perfect, and He can and will save you in the midst of your particular brokenness. Your temptations may change, or they may well remain the same, but either way, in Christ you will have a fountain that is open for continual, repeated cleansing, because in Him you are already perfect.”

To me, this underscores the universal sameness and humanity of all people, regardless of their particular struggle or temptation. Even if someone has given in to their temptation and has identified themselves by it, they are still fundamentally the same as me: a person who is broken and in need of Christ. Now, out of brokenness, someone who identifies and lives as LGBTQ has embraced their brokenness and taken pride in it, which is evil. And that is a choice. It is something that should be repented of. But apart from a premise that levels the playing field between all of humanity and allows us to actually enter their perspective with compassion and empathy, that message of repentance will only alienate. And I’m not talking about tritely saying, “I’m a sinner, too.” I’m talking about letting the walls down and saying, “I did not choose the temptations that I struggle with day in and day out, and I daily wonder why God made me the way that I am, knowing that these temptations would be a daily issue, and knowing that I would fail Him so frequently. I struggle with feeling worthless and broken and dispensable. I struggle with the fear that my weaknesses will be present for all of my life and make me useless for the kingdom. But in Christ I have an unshakeable hope that my brokenness has been made whole in the eyes of God, and that one day I will be made whole in the new heavens and new earth. And I have an unshakeable hope in the promise of God that that while I am here on this earth, step by step, my brokenness will begin to be undone and I will advance closer to the Christ I love.”

When it comes to applying this perspective to storytelling, I hope some of the conclusions are obvious:

1. We are to highlight our universal brokenness, our universal tendency to identify ourselves by our temptations, and the uncommon hope of redemption. Whether we are doing this in a book with the theme of how to properly balance reason and emotion, or in a book with the theme of dealing with same-sex attraction, the fundamental message is the same. So in a sense, instead of being abnormal, a book that deals with these so-called controversial topics ought to be little different (in basic thrust) than a book that deals with ‘tamer’ themes. It ought to be the same transformative hope that we present, regardless of the theme we’re dealing with.

I’m not denying the sensitivity of these topics. Because of the first and second perspectives I talked about, this issue is one which the church has monumentally mishandled, and which needs to be addressed both in real life and through influential fiction. But what I’m trying to get at is that the solution is not all that complicated. And it may not even take as much research and preparation as some of us seem to think. How we address this in our stories ought not to be any more complicated than the way we address other themes. We get to the universal human root of the issue and examine the universal human tendencies through our characters, and then we mythologize it and address it with redemption solutions through the plot. It’s that complicated and yet that simple.

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I feel as if I have bypassed meaningful interaction with a lot of the comments made in this discussion, and that saddens me. But let it be known that I have read this whole thread and appreciate many of the comments made. I wish I had further time to interact with them on an individual basis.