Queer Virtue: What LGBTQ People Know About Life and Love and How It Can Revitalize Christianity

by Elizabeth M. Edman

LGBTQ people are a gift to the Church and have the potential to revitalize Christianity.

As an openly lesbian Episcopal priest and professional advocate for LGBTQ justice, the Reverend Elizabeth Edman has spent her career grappling with the core tenets of her faith. After deep reflection on her tradition, Edman is struck by the realization that her queer identity has taught her more about how to be a good Christian than the church.

In Queer Virtue, Edman posits that Christianity, at its scriptural core, incessantly challenges its adherents to rupture false binaries, to "queer" lines that pit people against one another. Thus, Edman asserts that Christianity, far from being hostile to queer people, is itself inherently queer. Arguing from the heart of scripture, she reveals how queering Christianity--that is, disrupting simplistic ways of thinking about self and other--can illuminate contemporary Christian faith. Pushing well past the notion that "Christian love = tolerance," Edman offers a bold alternative: the recognition that queer people can help Christians better understand their fundamental calling and the creation of sacred space where LGBTQ Christians are seen as gifts to the church.

By bringing queer ethics and Christian theology into conversation, Edman also shows how the realities of queer life demand a lived response of high moral caliber--one that resonates with the ethical path laid down by Christianity. Lively and impassioned, Edman proposes that queer experience be celebrated as inherently valuable, ethically virtuous, and illuminating the sacred.

A rich and nuanced exploration, Queer Virtue mines the depths of Christianity's history, mission, and core theological premises to call all Christians to a more authentic and robust understanding of their faith.

Genres: Nonfiction, LGBT, Queer, Religion, Theology, Christianity, Faith

200 pages, Paperback

First published May 17, 2016

Reviews

[Anna Tan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is an inherently difficult book to review. Whatever I say, for or against, will probably upset someone in either camp. And I use"camp" instead of a mere divide, because this is an intensely polarising issue with people who would want to build trenches and throw bombs and sing fighting songs and the like. Whatever I rate it will also be a problem, so that remains squarely in the middle, a 2.5, because there are many things she says that I agree with, but there are also many vague areas - either due to my lack of ability to understand, or her lack of clarity in writing - which shall remain question marks.

So, on to the content.

As a professing lesbian and ordained Episcopal priest, Edman comes from the viewpoint that being queer is simply who she is. She argues that the binaries that we adhere to (male/female; right/wrong; good/bad) are overly simplistic, especially when defined in relation to current cultural norms, i.e. you're Christian, therefore you're good. You're not Christian, therefore you're bad. You're LGBT, therefore you're bad. You're heterosexual, therefore normal, therefore good. You're white - good; you're not, no good, and so on.
Throughout the book, she posits that being Christian is to be "queer" - which makes it terribly easy to dismiss the book offhand and declare her a heretic, unless you understand how she understands the term, which is:

something that has at its centre an impulse to disrupt any and all efforts to reduce into simplistic dualisms our experience of life, of God.

This spoke to me because at the core of my experience, my Christianity, is the need to continually break the barriers of the sacred and secular divide, being able to live a life that is whole, no matter who is watching or what I'm doing. She also quotes, early on, Paul's passage on neither male/female, Jew/Greek, slave/free - mainly to say that these are false, temporary binaries, both then and now.

If you expect her to continue quoting scripture to explain why it's Biblically justified to be LGBT+ (or queer, the umbrella term she uses), you'll be sorely disappointed. Instead, she uses her life and her experience, the reality of her lived life as a Christian and as a lesbian, to point and say that this is who I am, this is my identity, and God loves me. Which is true. You cannot deny that.

She also redefines "Pride," acknowledging the traditional Christian definition of pride as a destructive sin, an excessive self-esteem and self-sufficiency, but using instead the queer definition, which is about "healthy relationship with Self, Other... and transcendent reality," and involves "a reciprocal dynamic in which one's sense of self-worth feeds and is fed by relationships with others." In many ways, what Edman does in this book is translate basic Biblical theology and knowledge into queer terms, most of which are usually misunderstood because we are not part of that community, drawing parallels between progressive Christianity and queer community experiences.

Edman doesn't go into specifics of how a queer should live as a Christian - frustratingly and admirably - because, in the end, Christianity is a path - a pilgrimage, if you will - into the arms of God. Urging her to do so would feel rather voyeuristic, and falls into the trap of defining people only via their sexual expression. It comes back to that problematic system we have made of grading sins, as if one were worse than the other. The reader can guess, though - her casual references to sex and partners, her celebration of casual grinding, her final story of breaking up a community due to her own failure and affair - that she is much more on the liberal end of things; I am much more conservative in these matters so I would disagree on this point. And yet, as I said, she does not give any firm answer on these questions (pressing questions to the heterosexual, I suppose, rather than to the queer community) so I cannot catch her out in any explicit fallacy or heresy, if I were so inclined.

But I am not.

I am no stranger to self-hatred, and if the gradual opening of the Church to accept queers into their communities to tell them that they are loved is a help, I am all for that. In Chapter 5 - Scandal, Edman says this:

Pointing to that cross wasn't an accident, or an odd literary choice. [Paul] was telling his audiences, the people in his churches, that it was impossible to ignore the cross - and very specifically the scandal of the cross - and fully understand what Jesus was up to.

Again and again, she comes back to that central point that most of us have forgotten, in our comfortable Christianity and our simplistic, dualistic view of the world: the cross itself, in its day, was a scandal, not a pretty bling-bling or badge of honourable membership. This draws me back to what Craig Greenfield says in Subversive Jesus: An Adventure in Justice, Mercy, and Faithfulness in a Broken World, that:

Jesus Himself was a friend of the broken... not just an occasional visitor.

Whether queerness is something you're born with, whether it is a genetic aberration, a mental disorder, or just a quirk of nature - we don't know. I don't know if we'll ever know. It's not our place to judge. Throughout this book, Edman is calling us - Christians - to remember the scandal of the cross and the Jesus of the Bible who ate with the sinners and who did not throw the first stone. She opens up a doorway, a bridge, into understanding the lives of the people we've branded as queer, as abnormal, showing us that they are just like us. Human. Fallible. Broken. Desperately wanting love. She ends by inviting authenticity and hospitality, asking us once again to ponder what it truly means to do justice.

Our mission in life is not to maintain the status quo. It's not to protect the sanctity of Us the Church from the evil of Them the Other. It's to stand in the gap for those on the outside and to help them reach sanctuary. It's

From a list of laws
seeing all our flaws
To the blind, the lame,
we are all the same
Our High Priest has come
to make us all as one in Him
- 6 - Inside His Presence; Question Mark; Neal Morse

You may ultimately disagree with her stance. I don't know. I think that I do not want to definitively decide one way or another because I would rather have someone come to God because of the existence of this community - the ability to find like-minded people who will fight the fight of faith with him/her/hir - than to turn them away "until they repent". Because if God had done that to us, none of us would be saved.

I'll just leave you with this last quote:

Be the priest, who simply by standing in a place of vulnerability, invites someone else to enter the sacred.

Note: I received a digital ARC of this book for review via Edelweiss.

[Erin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really spectacular. A thoughtful, encouraging, deep reflection on the intersection of non-hetero/non-cis identity and Christian identity. I loved it!

[Eavan · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Though queer people certainly are forced to deal with external threats of violence, the terrorism directed at us relies heavily on weapons that we ingest with our minds, hearts, and souls. They are spiritual weapons. Delivered relentlessly over a course of years, these weapons prove to be so spiritually corrosive that many queer people take their own lives to escape the inflicted pain and internalized shame. Some queer youth do indeed flee north, or west, to find safe harbors in urban centers with large LGBTQ communities. But others simply flee the world that has bullied them relentlessly and condemned them as evil.

This is terrorism at work. It is spiritual terrorism, and the voices that are most urgently needed to combat this terrorism are the voices of religious authority.

It is good for churches to be inclusive of queer people, but it is not enough. It is important for clergy to be pastoral to queer people, but it is not enough. What is needed now is a bold, pastoral, explicitly Christian response that does what white antilynching activists were not willing to do with regards to race: rupture the false binaries that are employed to demonize queer identity. It matters that we preach not only that the violence is wrong and anti-Christian, but also why it is wrong and anti-Christian."

[Andrew Guthrie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is excellent. So often in the church talk of the lgbtq+ community gets stuck at affirmation and welcoming. While that's a noble goal, it neglects the myriad gifts the community has to offer. Elizabeth M. Edman presents an incredibly accessible, yet deep, venture into queer theory and experience, and articulates the gifts of this community for followers of the Christian faith. I'd recommend this to any church, but perhaps especially to those which are seeking to live deeper into an open and affirming identity.

[Susie · Rating 2 out of 5]

I skimmed some of this because I was on a deadline, but I’m still counting it. I think the author makes valid claims but I found the argument very “inside baseball.” If you’re not well-versed in queer theory or studies, her way of communicating what “queering” even means falls both short and flat. Also it was more textbook than casual read, so keep that in mind if you’re planning it for a book club or similar. Her central point is good, but it offered a lot of noise as a side dish and I didn’t care for it.

[Madeline · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Queer Virtue: What LGBTQ People Know About Life and Love and How It Can Revitalize Christianity, Edman argues that Christianity is inherently queer: it “ruptures” the binaries of life and death, human and divine. Edman also argues that the queer path and the Christian path are not so different from one another. In fact, they are incredibly similar. Both paths involve the discernment of an identity; the reaching out to others and forming of community, despite the risks involved; and the navigation of scandal. Both paths also require that we participate in supportive communities, fight for justice, and “look to the margins” to help those who are less privileged than we are.

In this book, Edman affirms, validates, and lifts up queer people. She celebrates queerness; her pride in and love of the queer community is palpable on every page. I loved this. Reading Queer Virtue was an absolute joy. It left me with a sense of hope and several ideas to ponder.

It was refreshing to read about the ways in which queer people can benefit Christianity, rather than the other way around. Edman proposed several strategies that progressive Christian communities might adopt in order to become more authentic and hospitable. She advises progressive Christians on how to have healthy pride in their Christian identity and on how to come out as Christians. Most of all, she impresses upon the reader that being queer and Christian is not only possible, it’s natural.

Queer Virtue is intelligent, well written, and heartfelt. Edman is honest and forthcoming about her experiences and shortcomings, and she speaks with compassion and a deep understanding of the ways in which queer people have been and are still being hurt by Christians. Queer Virtue is an excellent read for LGBTQ+ people struggling with their faith, for Christians wishing to open up their community to all people, or for anyone interested in Christianity or queerness.

[Kristina Knight · Rating 4 out of 5]

Queer people of faith, if they feel safe to come out at all, are often shown love and respect *in spite of* their queerness. When queerness is (at best) described as a product of the fall or a quality to tolerate (or pity), internalized homophobia and self-hatred is a natural consequence. However, Edman makes the bold claim that the consequences of this ideology do not just extend to the queer community. By conceptualizing queerness as inherently problematic, the church fails to learn from the queer community as it embodies virtues the church often struggles to cultivate within itself. Queerness and queer communities, Erdman argues, are uniquely familiar with the virtues of authenticity, hospitality, healthy pride, a focus on the margins, and the rupturing of unhelpful social binaries. This book traces the complex, gospel-oriented thread that weaves together queerness and Christianity and offers a healing perspective for anyone who feels fractured between those two identities.

[Abby · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was interesting, but I feel like because I'm inherently on Edman's side on this, that it didn't necessarily excite me. I also must admit that I was in a bit of a bad mood when I read the majority of this book.

I also have to admit that I felt pretty weird about the shady stuff that happened in terms of her technically dating a student. It's admirable that she owns up to her mistake, but it did make me feel quite uncomfortable.

I'd be interested for this to be expanded, though. This touches on how Judaism is also inherently queer, but I'd like more, and I'd like to see some of that regarding Islam. Because we all have the same God, etcetera.

[Joseph Rizzo · Rating 3 out of 5]

The 3 star rating is not an endorsement of the contents of the book, but to note that I found the book to be interesting in subject matter and writing style.

The main things I'll point out is that like J. Gresham Machen in "Christianity and LIberalism', Edman also concludes that between "progressive christianity" and "evangelical christianity" there are essentially two different religions. She just comes to a different conclusion on which is "authentic". Machen's point about the danger of liberalism was that it made use of historically Christian terms, but at it's core was a substitute dangerous to the soul. The author makes use of much scripture in order to aid in the storytelling, but from the standpoint of authority, looks to her own and our own experience as equal to and above the writings of scripture. There is also, a heavy emphasis and attempt to note the positives of the carnal. This is incompatible with the spiritual, carnality is death to the spiritual:

Romans 8:6 "For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace."

There is a very important distinction to be made when considering the idea of "the flesh". We are not to despise it in the sense that God created the body to be immortal, and so we have an expectation of resurrection. The danger of the flesh, is the lust of the flesh.

There is also a reiteration of a creative interpretation of "the law" as being the roman law. This completely misses the simplest reading of the entire Bible. The law is the mosaic / moral law, that all of us fail to adhere to, putting us all under the condemnation of God. The question that biblical, true, historical, and orthodox Christianity answers is how we escape the just wrath of God. The answer is faith in Jesus, repentance unto life, a life lived loving God with all our hearts, and our neighbors as ourselves.

[Mikki · Rating 3 out of 5]

The synopsis of this book gives the reasons why the Reverend Edman wanted to write it, and I believe she achieved her goals. As a regular cisgender female, my reason for reading it was to get a handle on how queer people view their place within the Christian tradition and how the Church can become more inclusive, less judgmental and more equitable. She hopes that the lines which humans have built up concerning binaries can be at least more blurred, maybe even dispensed with. This is a tall order given the nature of the current state of the Church, governed as it still mainly is following the patriarchal model which formed it and still largely underpins its governance. It will take time and effort. And people will need to be open to exploring something which has long been taboo in Church circles. Progressive churches will need to become more commonplace, more the norm.

My only sense of discord in the book is the way 'God outside us, out there somewhere' is still how the Divine Being is described, separate from humanity and the rest of 'Creation' - which is a binary viewpoint in itself. My experience gives me the insight that God (or whatever else one calls the creating, living, moving Spirit of Life), which - in my understanding - sustains all that is, is integral with all that exists, rather like the Hindu insight of Brahman, and already permeates everything, including every human being. No binary sense of God separate from self exists in me. That's why I personally no longer attend Church.

I just wonder how the book might have been written differently if it were guided by this alternative understanding. Maybe someone queer has already tried. Maybe it's too complex a task to attempt. Some things just can't be described adequately using words, given the limitations of human language. Perhaps it's simply easier to stick with the binary model of God/Humanity for the purpose of inclusion and encouragement.

[Sierra Collins · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 Stars 💕 Written by a lesbian Episcopal Priest
Takeaways:
1.) My queer identity informs my Christian ethics and ideally, vice versa. Caring for the poor, the marginalized, and daring to touch and be touched by those who are deemed “unclean” or who have been Otherized by society, is a prominent concern in queer ethics. This same sentiment is also the manifesto of the entire Judeo-Christian canon. Being queer and being Christian (or religious in general) need not be mutually exclusive identities.
2.) A prophet is not of necessity a person who tells the future, but rather a person who calls out and says “This is God and this is me”- a person who makes a raw and genuine statement about identity, love, and pride.
3.) A priest is a person who stands in a position of intense vulnerability in order to welcome others into an experience with the divine. Beautiful.
4.) Spiritual vulnerability requires risk. Without risk we wouldn’t experience any kind of love.
5.) Healthy pride uplifts oneself and others
6.) Lastly, hope is not so much concerned with a corporeal state of being. It’s not saying “God (or someone or something) will heal me physically or save me right now in this moment.” Hope is the idea and the recognition that there is some part of you full of beauty, love, and optimism that hasn’t been touched by the pain of this world. It is saying “This is my struggle. The world may have me imprisoned, but there is still a part of me that is not in prison.” This part made me tear up and it still does every time I think of it. I deeply appreciated the Shawshank Redemption analogy.


There’s much more to this book and this author, but these are the things that will stay with me.

[Emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rev. Edman writes an excellent book on theology and ethics. Her main thesis, that the church needs LGBTQ people and that there is an ethical and moral path to queerness that is entirely fitting with Christianity, is supported clearly and in depth. I find her biblical analysis compelling. and have referenced this book in sermons. For the most part, this book is a gem.

I wanted to give this book 5 stars until I read the chapter. "Authenticity." Just 30 pages from the end, "Authenticity" is a disaster and made me rethink the entire book. Edman never fully apologizes for having an affair with a student member of her congregation. She admits it was a mess, that it had horrible effects on her congregation, partner, and children, but cannot say she regrets it and fails to describe it as sexual misconduct. As clergy, we are trained regularly (or have been for the last decade or two) that romantic relationships with congregants are inherently an abuse of power. I want to assume the best I can about her intentions, but the way she describes the relationship makes it difficult to believe she has taken complete responsibility for what she describes as a mess.

As a Lutheran Christian, I believe that all people are both saint and sinner: forgiven and prone to error. I won't throw away the great goods of this book because of this chapter, but it did force me to question the strength of her ethical analysis throughout. I was disappointed to feel that way given how much insight I gained from the other 9 chapters.

[Othy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a great book for those who want to open their hearts to how queer folks find their way as disciples of Christ and, importantly, what insights the queer community can give to the Church as a whole. I think the book is particularly good for those who are against the LGBTQ community but also feel the Spirit's call to understand them more and for those who are stuck in defending or arguing against queerness through the Bible alone.

All this said, Edman's perspective does not represent a sort of "mere Christianity" or a set of core beliefs or principles. Personally, I found Edman's idea of constantly evolving and changing search for identity to be exhausting. There are many places of stability in Christianity, and we need to embrace these even as we see how God is calling us into deeper communion with him.

[Logan Crews · Rating 5 out of 5]

edman does a beautiful job at showing how simply living as a queer person develops ethics that are valuable to christianity: how to take risks, coming out, healthy pride, radical hospitality, embracing scandal, etc etc. it was helpful to hear a queer priest say "yes you should share your faith with people, not in order to change them but to tell the truth and trust the world with your whole identity." i have been in the camp of leftist christians who are afraid to be associated with who edman calls "nominal christians" but i have a lot more reasoning now behind sharing why i *am* a christian in these specific ways because it builds a bridge between queer ethics and a more just, queer christianity. 10/10 recommend to both queer & nonqueer christians

[John Everard Griffith · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am a retired Christian minister living in Canada. I found this book compelling and gave me a better perspective on why she (and others?) call themselves "queer". The book is well written taking the reader step by step through a redefinition or I would say return to the core values, teaching and purpose of Christianity. I will write a review, but I need to digest its content and reread parts before I can do justice to the impact it has had on me. I recommend this book for people who are wondering if Christianity has a future and if Christianity can relate to the changing world we live in.

[Deborah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ugh, this was so hard to read.
It didn’t help that Authenticity was chapter 9/10 instead of more upfront.
The writing seemed garbled in jargon and a collective “we” of queer folks, that deflected attention from herself, her personal experience and mistakes.
Too many sentences that I reread and was still like, “WTH is she saying?”

It doesn’t disregard the truths and learnings I gained from this. The church does have a lot to learn from the queer community. They are practicing Christianity with hospitality and authenticity and risk in a way most of popular evangelical church is not.

The idea of “rupturing binaries” and how Jesus queered theology of his time.

[Caleb · Rating 1 out of 5]

Huge disappointment. Very little substance, works mostly off terminological parallels- e.g. Queer and Christian communities both have the word ‘scandal’- is a lot of annoying autobiography, including an incident in which she had a relationship with a student whose minister she was (never apologized for it either for this clear abuse of power), and did not even keep her promises that she mentioned in her preface about what she wasn’t going to do (talk about the persecution of LGBT around the globe to shore up her argument about North America)

Complete waste of time

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m so thankful that More Light Presbyterians put this book on their recommended reading list (one of my goals is to work my way through that list). I was both called to and called out by this book.

It’s impossible to pull out one quote as the definitive sentence, and my copy is well written on and underlined, but the sentence that kept reverberating in my head and convinced me I was reading the right book at the right time was this one:

“True hope wasn’t the possibility that someday they would be cured; it was the knowledge that some part of them wasn’t sick.”

Thank you, Reverend Edman

[Paul Cassidy · Rating 5 out of 5]

What is our way out?

The world is full of violence and hatred, but here we see painted a picture that this is not God’s world, but one of our own making in which we exclude the “other” for our own gain. But in Queer Virtue, we see that God is always acting in strange and wonderful ways to call people to take the call of radical love seriously by embracing all that is different, which makes us all the same.

[Rebecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simply my favorite book on queer theology, a powerful book to move us forward into a mode of faith where queer people's lived experiences are allowed to be as prophetic as they truly are. Too accepting and too advanced for those just starting to accept LGBTQ people of faith, but this book moves brilliantly beyond arguing "is it OK to be queer in the church" to "how can queer people lead the church forward?"

[Joshua Berntsen · Rating 1 out of 5]

I approached "Queer Virtue" with an open mind and a genuine curiosity about how LGBTQ perspectives could intertwine with and potentially revitalize Christian thought. Unfortunately, my journey through this book left me underwhelmed and, frankly, disappointed.

From the outset, I was intrigued by the premise. The intersection of Christianity and the LGBTQ community is a complex and potentially enriching topic. However, as I delved into Reverend Edmond's narrative, I found myself lost in a maze of circular arguments and sidestepped issues. The book seemed to promise an exploration of deep, meaningful connections between these two spheres, but it fell short in delivery.

Full disclosure: I made it through about 40% of the book. I believe in giving a book a fair chance to unfold its thesis and win me over, but "Queer Virtue" struggled to maintain a clear and focused discourse. The core topic, which holds so much potential for insightful discussion, was often lost in repetitive and vague statements that didn't advance the argument or offer new insights.

As someone who values both open-mindedness and substantive dialogue, I found this reading experience lacking the depth and clarity I had hoped for. It's with regret that I rate this book 1 out of 5 stars. The subject matter is undoubtedly important and deserves a thorough and coherent exploration, which, in my view, "Queer Virtue" didn't manage to achieve.

[Austin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A refreshing and mind-bending interpretation of the gospel through a queer lens. It seems that Jesus tended to shatter dualistic thinking and queered the lines between Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, male and female and so much more.

A refreshing vision of what faith community could be and perhaps a somewhat rose-tinted vision of what the queer community is.

A worthwhile read.

[Brooke Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

This belongs in every Christian library! If the Christian church is gonna survive, it has to recognize its own inherent “queerness,” war against violence and bigotry in all its forms, and most importantly, learn when to take ethical cues from the queer community itself, which has so much to offer the whole world.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very interesting and thought provoking book about how the skills, experiences, and values of LGBTQ people (the importance of community, the ability to be true to self and speak up, etc.). I enjoyed the conversational tone, the author's stories, and the challenge to Christians to see and value our LGBTQ brothers and sisters.

[Lauren Baker · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was fabulous. It was so interesting to see someone integrate queer identity with Christianity rather than try and condemn or begrudgingly accept. It was revolutionary, funny, and thought provoking. Absolutely loved ❤️

[Eric Clapp · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really appreciated the way the author set up the framework of “queering” as pressing on the boundaries and rupturing the binaries. It really held up well throughout the different interpretations and ways of reading scripture.

[Dennis · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a slow read, but many interesting thoughts about religious practice and theology. Chapters on identity, pride and authenticity were particularly interesting. The depiction of the variety of religious and political experiences within Christianity is particularly useful.

[Dan Laubach · Rating 5 out of 5]

Highly recommend. Edman has clearly understood that the Christian gospel was written by oppressed people for oppressed people. By turning our gaze to those in the margins in our own time and place we can expect to learn an awful lot.

[Martyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Informative and thoughtful book exploring how gay culture, with its need to declare itself and embrace its diversity, could help Christians think about how they embody their faith. Well worth reading.

[Kali Cawthon-Freels · Rating 5 out of 5]

A powerful book wherein the author argues that her queerness taught her more about healthy Christianity than the Church did-- then highlights how that's true for her. It's been a while since I felt so seen in a book (as a queer pastor myself).