Why I Do Not Celebrate Gay Pride

If you ask my detractors, they would tell you that the reason I do not celebrate gay pride is that I’m a bigot. A hater. A homophobe. A transphobe.

And I understand their perspective.

After all, no matter how Christian I claim to be, if I tell a gay couple I do not believe they are truly married in God’s sight, that feels like hatred to them.

If I tell a woman who identifies as a man that I still believe she is a woman, that feels like hatred to her.

From their perspective, I can understand how unchristian my position seems, how bigoted, how biased, how primitive.

After all, they would be quick to point out, there are gay parents who are more devoted to their kids than some straight parents.

There are transgender men and women who are kind, gentle, caring souls.

There are people all across the LGBT spectrum who help the poor, who care for the oppressed, who love the loveless, who are outstanding bosses or employees or friends or neighbors.

Why shouldn’t all of us celebrate gay (or LGBT) pride?

For me, there are three major reasons, and none has anything to do with hatred or fear.

First, I do not accept the categories of LGBT as fixed and definite categories, worthy of special recognition.

Put another way, why should there be a special month to celebrate people based on their sexual desires and romantic attractions? Or based on their gender identity perceptions?

The very fact that we’ve gone from G (as in gay) to LG, to LGB, to LGBT, to LGBTQ, to LGBTQI to LGBTQIP (and beyond) indicates that these are hardly fixed categories.

Or, to zero in on the letter B, why should I celebrate someone who is attracted to both males and females? Why should I put them in a special category (like Hispanic or Asian or black)?

If the person happens to a courageous firefighter, I’ll celebrate them for that. If the person happens to be a cancer survivor with an amazing story, I’ll celebrate them for that.

They are fellow human beings, and if they deserve honor or commendation, I’ll gladly give that to them. But I won’t celebrate their bisexuality. Why should I?

And that leads to my second point.

If I’m convinced that homosexual practice is contrary to God’s design, why should I celebrate it?

If I personally know people whose same-sex attractions were the result of childhood sexual abuse and rape, why should I celebrate those attractions?

If I’m convinced that, ideally, a child should have a mommy and a daddy (rather than two mommies or two daddies), why should I celebrate a family setting that willfully deprives that child of either their mother or father?

Do we celebrate single-parent pride? No, we say to those single parents, “It must be hard to raise your child on your own, but we’re standing with you to help.”

There’s quite a difference.

And why should I celebrate transgender identity? What is there to celebrate?

Why should I celebrate putting a child on hormone blockers? Why should I celebrate a 17-year-old girl having her breasts removed? Why should I celebrate a lifelong regimen of hormones? Why should I celebrate something that causes so many people so much pain, even after “transitioning?”

If you asked me to stand with those who identify as transgender and offer them support and compassion and hope, I would say, “Count me in.”

If you asked me to stand against their harassment and mistreatment, again I would say, “Count me in.”

But if you ask me to celebrate their transgender identity (and all the challenges that come with it), I would have to politely decline.

Third, and finally, I do not celebrate LGBT pride because there is an agenda attached to it.

In other words, this is not just a matter of me appreciating LGBT people as people, or recognizing their accomplishments for the sake of their accomplishments.

Instead, to celebrate LGBT pride is to recognize and embrace a larger cultural agenda.

As I explained in 2011, “the legitimizing of homosexuality as a perfectly normal alternative to heterosexuality also requires that all opposition to homosexual behavior must be delegitimized. At the very least, the gay agenda requires these three platforms (and let recognized gay leaders renounce this if it is not so).

Whereas homosexuality was once considered a pathological disorder, from here on, those who do not affirm homosexuality will be deemed homophobic, perhaps themselves suffering from a pathological disorder.

Whereas gay sexual behavior was once considered morally wrong, from here on public condemnation—or even public criticism—of that behavior will be considered morally wrong.

Whereas identifying as transgender was once considered abnormal by society, causing one to be marginalized, from here on, those who do not accept transgenderism will be considered abnormal and will be marginalized.

And remember, I wrote this in 2011. (In fact, I wrote this several years earlier, but these comments were not published until 2011.)

Again, from the LGBT viewpoint, LGBT pride is all about coming out of the closet. It’s about saying, “We’re just as good and as gifted and as normal as anyone else, and rather than being ashamed of our LGBT identity, we are proud of it. The days of being mistreated are over. That’s what LGBT pride is all about!”

Again, I understand these sentiments, and if it was a matter of caring for people as people, I’d march side by side with them.

But it’s not just that. It’s about creating new categories and foisting them on the society. It’s about celebrating something that should not be celebrated. It’s about a larger agenda.

For those reasons, I do not celebrate gay pride, even though it makes me a hateful bigot in the eyes of many LGBT people and their allies.

That saddens me, but that doesn’t change my convictions.

June remains just another month on my calendar. It is not marked off for LGBT pride.