For many years the intersection of gay identity and Christian identity in the United States was a virtual no-man’s land. In All But Invisible , author Nate Collins explores the cultural background of this claim and outlines a vision for Christian community in which straight and nonstraight people might be reconciled so they can flourish together in full awareness of their shared humanity. Along the way, Collins addresses several questions clustered around the topic of LGBT and Christian experience, such Speaking from his own experience as a gay man in a mixed orientation marriage, Collins is committed to helping faith communities include LGBT people in the family life of the church. He writes for believers who have a traditional sexual ethic and provides a renewed vision of gospel flourishing for gay, lesbian, and other same-sex-attracted individuals.
Nate Collins (PhD, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) has served as an instructor of New Testament Interpretation at The Southern Baptist Theological seminary and is currently a partner associate at The Sight Ministry, a Christian organization based in Nashville, Tennessee, that provides resources and support for individuals, families, and churches regarding LGBT issues. Nate has been married to his wife, Sara, for thirteen years, and they have three children.
I have a lot of complicated thoughts about this book that I'm still trying to sort out. But even when I disagree with the author's conclusions, I still find his perspective worth listening to.
This book is an invaluable resource for people who want to love lgbt and nonstraight people well. Written primarily for Christians who hold what has been called the traditional sexual ethic, it is well researched, well footnoted, and committed to good exegesis of scripture. Collins interacts deeply with secular disciplines to help make sense of how our culture views and influences experiences of gender and sexuality. One of his main arguments is that the locus of orientation ought to be understood as relating to beauty and aesthetics rather than sex. I think the main value of this book is the positive and pastoral vision he offers for what reconciliation looks like for lgbt people and the conservative churches in which they worship and live their lives. I was particularly impressed by his section on what desire is and how it relates to ideas like attraction, temptation, lust, and sin. I appreciate how hw follows thinkers like Augustine and Calvin here without co-opting or weaponizing their theology against gay people. I found his account of desire and how it relates to temptation etc to be much more compelling than those offered by Kevin DeYoung or Denny Burk in their respective books on homosexuality. I think if anyone is going to turn to authors like DeYoung or Burk for guidance on understanding lgbt people in the church, I would highly recommend they consider at least reading this alongside those works, especially considering Collins is himself a gay man who holds to the traditional sexual ethic.
I appreciate that Collins wrote a thoughtful book that wasn’t reactionary and full of personal stories to make his points. I did have some problems with his logical reasoning, though.
This being a hot topic that evokes some strong feelings, I’m choosing not to post a full review here, but feel free to message me if you want my notes and thoughts on it!
I don't agree with many of Collins' conclusions, but his book was meant to be a challenge to more conservative Christians to start listening to the perspectives of the LGBTQ community and be changed by those perspectives, if not in their interpretation of Scripture, in their behavior towards queer people. I would recommend this book for that purpose.
This review was originally published in Trinity Journal, Vol. 40 No. 1 (Spring 2019): 106-108.
At the outset of All but Invisible, Southern Baptist New Testament scholar (and founder of the evangelical parachurch organization and conference Revoice) Nate Collins explains, “This is a book about an invisible people, people who find themselves at the center of a cultural debate about what it means to be human, to be a person, and to be a sexual being” (18). Collins, who identifies as a gay man in a mixed-orientation marriage with his wife Sara, is deeply concerned about the ongoing flight of LGBT persons from churches, after having experienced a pervasive lack of understanding and compassion on the part of straight Christians there. He holds to a traditional sexual ethic that defines marriage as consisting of a one-flesh bond between one man and one woman, so his project does not advocate a revisionist stance. Rather, he claims that “two problems–the vision problem and the idea problem–are the key challenges that Christians face today as they seek to relate to, understand, and love gay people” (28), and aims to resolve them so that churches will become places where gays and lesbians can find abundant life in Christ, and compassion that is gracious as well as truthful.
Part I addresses the vision problem. Chapter 2 builds a cumulative case for the necessity of reconciliation between conservative churches and nonstraight people, particularly through the exposition of three major New Testament ecclesial themes: the church as upside-down community, living organism, and sacred kinship. Drawing on the Pauline exhortations to believers to carry one another’s burdens, Collins starkly warns “that straight people who resist carrying the unique burden of their gay brothers and sisters are disobeying the law of Christ” (37). Chapter 3 calls for Christians to pursue an expansion of communal imagination and a renewal of communal habits, since the “task of discerning faithful patterns of obedience for gay people in the church is a journey that begins in the hope not only that these patterns exist but that they are livable within a traditional teaching about sexual morality” (53). Collins also denounces the antigospel priorities found in the culture war mentality that for far too long has “conditioned Christians to regard gay people as political enemies rather than as human beings made in the image of God” (74). Chapter 4 unpacks some of the complicated reasons for the decline of marriage and family in North America over the past half-century (well before the advent of gay marriage) and proceeds to canvas the main patterns of obedience for LGBT persons who believe that Scripture forbids entering into a same-sex union: single celibacy, mixed-orientation marriage, and deep non-sexual integration into communal life (e.g., expanded kinship, intentional community, and celibate partnership).
Part II addresses the idea problem. Chapter 5 focuses on the nature, morality, and relational context of desire, with special attention to its implications for friendship with and among sexual minorities. Chapter 6 follows by addressing the importance of beauty for LGBT persons. Collins recounts the variegated history of the category of sexual orientation before attempting to recast it as primarily a matter of aesthetics, “recentering the concept of orientation around the perception and admiration of beauty” (156). Chapter 7 explores the intrinsic qualities of intimacy, again with special reference to friendship and kinship. Collins also proffers a tripartite framework for understanding how gay people might uniquely experience and faithfully respond to intimacy in their relationships, navigating the fear of shame, the unnaturalness of loneliness, and the captivating pleasure of beauty. Chapter 8 debunks myths about the nature of gayness prevalent in many churches (related to inherent choice, childhood trauma, personality stereotypes, and excessive desire). Collins roots his own project in the doctrine of theological anthropology; its themes of creation, relationality, and history lead to an understanding of human personhood that is respectively embodied, permeable, and developmental. He concludes by proposing that same-sex erotic attractions could be understood as a source of disability, with “the potential to ebb and flow in response to life’s circumstances, to become the occasion for receiving grace as we cope with our fallen state. Among other things, this highlights the importance of going beyond simple statements like, ‘Homosexuality is a result of the fall’” (195).
Part III addresses several interlocking elements of identity. Chapter 9 expounds Scripture’s two creation stories and highlights the insights they bring to sex difference, gender, and sexuality. Collins underscores a “fundamental observation that sex difference is embodied but gender is enculturated” (211). Chapter 10 narrates a spectrum of historical understandings and cultural expressions of gender theory, including essentialism, varieties of feminism, identity politics, intersectionality, and postmodern queer theory. Collins summarizes the resources that these (often non-Christian) perspectives can contribute to evangelical understandings of the meaning and value of difference. This dovetails into Chapter 11, which seeks to pull “the threads together into a meaningful, constructive account of how communities index stable identities according to culturally meaningful categorizations that are inherently gendered” (245). Collins draws from the three dimensions of social identity theory (cognitive, evaluative, and emotional) and relates them to secondary gender identities, both in the New Testament (e.g., female virgins and widows) and among contemporary sexual minorities (who face the interlocking challenges of homophobia, heteronormativity, stereotypes, and social disadvantages). Chapter 12 challenges U.S. Christians to assume a self-critical posture, reexamining their recent history of interactions with gays and lesbians (via parachurch ministries, political engagement, reparative therapy, and congregational exclusion) that have caused painful wounds. Collins commends the development of a church life “that acknowledges the distinctive experience of gay people and that also affirms their inherent place within the body of Christ” (290). Chapter 13 reflects on the significance of Christian identity as encompassing our first-creation identities (including sex and gender, race and ethnicity, and personality), our redemption from our fallenness (through union with Christ and adoption into God’s family), and our hope for the new creation. Collins laments, “Rather than creatively pursuing the flourishing of gay people in conservative churches, many Christians have been negligent with their witness to the LGBT community and with their stewardship of the riches of their spiritual inheritance. Far from being construed as pro-gay in ways that are faithful to biblical teaching about marriage and sexuality, conservative Christians are widely regarded as both anti-gay and anti-love. This is both tragic and unnecessary” (311-312).
All but Invisible represents a unique approach among recent Christian treatments of homosexuality (which usually focus primarily on sexual ethics or personal testimony). Nate Collins has integrated, for the most part successfully, several fields of knowledge: biblical studies, theological anthropology, ecclesiology, gender theory, and social identity theory. The result is a work of impressive interdisciplinary breadth, which nevertheless retains a warmly pastoral, and at times passionately prophetic, tone. Collins’ greatest strengths include: his exegesis of Scripture; his willingness to engage secular sources with a non-defensive posture, while discerningly appropriating their insights; and his succinct deconstruction of reductive arguments, whether progressive (e.g., Matthew Vines) or reactionary (e.g., Denny Burk and Heath Lambert). I should note that I am not convinced by all of Collins’ proposals. In particular, I worry that his substitution of “aesthetic” for “sexual” orientation, and his framing of same-sex erotic desire as disability, may increase misunderstanding and hinder clarity regarding these contested topics. Additionally, although Collins often uses “LGBT”, “nonstraight”, and “gay” interchangeably, his dominant frame of reference in the book is that of gay men, such that the experiences of lesbians and bisexuals recede to the background, while transgender concerns are almost totally ignored. Nevertheless, on the whole, All but Invisible is a helpful and timely contribution to the theological understanding and ecclesial practice of evangelicals seeking to love their nonstraight neighbors.
Nate Collins received a PhD in New Testament Studies from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (SBTS). Collins served as an instructor of New Testament Interpretation at SBTS and is currently a partner associate at The Sight Ministry, a Christian organization based in Nashville, Tennessee, that provides resources and support for individuals, families, and churches regarding LGBTQ issues. Recently, Collins authored graciously informed volume that uniquely explores the interchange between faith, gender, and sexuality like no other book on the market.
All But Invisible: Exploring Identity Questions at the Intersection of Faith, Gender and Sexuality is divided into three major parts: (1) The Vision Problem, (2) The Idea Problem, and (3) Identity Matters. Part one and two seek to explore “two big-picture problems facing twenty-first-century Christians who want to explore a more thoughtful way forward in thinking about gay orientations and identity” (p. 21). Part three seeks to provide resolution to these problems and offer insight into how we can “focus our efforts on helping the church to be a place where gay and lesbian men and women can discover the abundant life that the gospel promises them” (p. 28). The reach of Collins’ approach penetrates the problems with clarity and sensitivity, and the outcome provides readers with careful and informative exploration.
There is much to be praised about All But Invisible. First and foremost, it is important to note that Collins affirms a traditional Christian sexual ethic as a same-sex-attracted man who is married to his wife of thirteen years and the father of three sons. Collins is informed on LGBTQ issues both intellectually and personally, and steered by an unwavering commitment to Christ, and offers readers a unique perspective on the topic unlike anything else on the market. Second, the personal point of view that Collins brings to the conversation, united together with a keen understanding of the cultural landscape and Scriptural conviction, further offers readers an immediate perspective that separates All But Invisible from other books of similar scope. Lastly, Collins consistently tackles the tough questions without reservations, and the answers provided seriously engage the issues with as much weight as the questions.
All But Invisible: Exploring Identity Questions at the Intersection of Faith, Gender and Sexuality by Nate Collins combines rigorous research with a unique perspective, personal experience, and an unwavering commitment to Christ that culminates into one fantastic book. This is a book that will give readers a new pair of lenses to view the world. The love of Christ is on every page, and readers will do well to listen to his perspective. It’s both timely and timeless. If you are in search of a book that will inform your understanding and encourage your heart, then look no further. It comes highly recommended!
Nate Collins brings to the table a fresh discussion for a divided culture. Where most books merely scratch the surface of the conversation the church should be having on the topic of gender and sexuality, Collins dives into history, linguistics, exegesis, psychology, theology, personal experience, etc. All But Invisible is not only a valuable contribution to the growing number of books on the LGBTQ community, but an essential one.
All But Invisible's target audience is likely conservative evangelical churches that have no framework for queer Christians. His main point is, there are queer Christians with a traditional Scripture interpretation among church congregation that are overlooked. Their input and perspective is a blessing to the church.
Collins is articulate and thoughtful - I appreciated the absence of angry accusation, etc. That said, I'm not sure I agree with his reasoning, but some of his ideas were new to me and food for thought. I was glad that I'd read Butterfield and could understand better those aspects of discussion, which I think made for a better read. It was interesting to consider their differing points of view.