It isn’t always obvious when and where and how to steward my layers of privilege.

Ten years ago when I wrote UnClobber I was still pretty green when it came to understanding various identities and intersectionality, and I had a lot to learn about what it meant to be a guy like me doing this kind of work. I’m still learning, to be sure. Sometimes I’m able to check myself before I wreck myself, but other times I must do said checking after the wrecking.

I know I haven’t always walked this line well, but I’ve made a commitment to continue walking it even though it’s a risk (it would be easier, I suppose, to just not try and write or talk about LGBTQ inclusion, and use the excuse of “I’m staying in my lane” as some sort of cover). Because for me the greater risk is if people like me (straight, cis allies) stay out of the fray altogether simply because we’re afraid of doing it wrong or messing it up.

Nah, this work (the work of inclusion and equality) is far too herculean to not be taken up by any and every body, utilizing all manner of approaches, tactics, and efforts.

All that to say, when I outlined the topics I wanted to cover in my next book I knew I wanted… needed… to dedicate space to writing about gender and gender identity. Like I said the other day, the scope for UnClobber was pretty narrow (e.g., only the six clobber passages), so that book didn’t really get into any particular aspects of the transgender topic. But a lot has changed in ten years, including the rise of all things trans.

So even though I know I won’t do it perfectly, I used chapter four in But What About to respond to the question, “But what about God not making mistakes with gender?”

And actually, doing or not-doing it “perfectly” is a perfect setup, because that’s what a good chunk of the chapter is about. What perfection is/isn’t; how the ancient Greeks thought about the word; and how that impacts the way we read and interpret Scripture.

There are many dimensions to the LGBTQ inclusion conversation, and many paths one might take to become fully affirming. With this chapter I hope I’ve offered a path that feels both fresh and compelling. While I cannot speak to what it is like to be transgender (which is why I rely heavily in this chapter on my trans friends and their experiences and expertise), I hope I can help people think through this particular topic in a new way.

Enjoy.

-Colby

p.s. If you haven’t already, make sure to pre-order But What About on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Target, Powells, or other options here.

p.p.s. If you missed it, I previously shared excerpts from

• Chapter 2 (But What About the Bible?), and

• Chapter 3 (But What About Adam & Eve?)

CHAPTER 4
But What About God Not Making Mistakes with Gender?

Non-Affirming Claim:

I’m often asked about my level of hope for the future of the church.

I sense people ask this because they’re personally feeling hope deficient. And of course they are, have you read the news… ever? There’s no shortage of reasons to feel anxious and pessimistic. But I do sometimes wonder if they’d feel the same way if they could see what I see as I travel the country speaking to various groups and churches. I swear, every time I do an UnClobber Workshop it’s like fresh hope in my sail that perhaps the moral arc of the universe is indeed bending toward justice just as MLK Jr prophesied. If I ignore the headlines and only focus on the people I meet, the communities I visit, and the stories I hear, then trust me when I tell you that love is indeed winning and the church is truly changing. My hope is high and getting higher.

I recall one such blast of hope several years ago in the middle of Ohio, when over 100 people dedicated half their weekend to better understand the Bible and homosexuality. I had just finished teaching the clobber passages for the better part of five hours, and though a cushioned stool stood but a few strides away I enjoyed stretching my legs as I slowly walked toward the front row of pews. Standing there in a Presbyterian church that mixed old-world beauty with a fresh, inviting vibe, I said, “We’ve now reached my favorite part of the workshop, the Q&R. And I say Q&R because while I may not always have an answer, I will always give a response.” People often chuckle when I say that, but it’s true. There’s no way I can answer every question, especially since my experience as a straight, cisgender male is limited. But I can at least try and respond from my perspective as a theologian with a pastor’s heart.

When the mic made its way to the fourth person who raised their hand, all heads pivoted as they stood tall and proud. They began their question stating both their name and that they are trans. “Recently,” they said, “I was talking with my sister about all this,” they waved their non mic-holding hand in a large circle, as if to imply all that we’d been talking about that day, “which typically I avoid doing because she’s not affirming and I get tired of defending myself. But for whatever reason I entertained the conversation that day. After a few back and forths she eventually shut the whole thing down by blurting out, ‘I just don’t think God makes mistakes!’”

The room audibly winced as their words bounced off the stained glass and gothic arches. Collectively we could feel the discomfort, the pain, the shock of being told by a loved one that your very life is an accusation that God messed up. What do you even say to that? Oh wait… that was their question to me. What do I even say that?! Perhaps now you can see why I make my disclaimer about Q&R, not Q&A.

Though I cannot recall precisely what I said, I’m confident it lacked sophistication and depth because I had not yet met Jonah (whom you’re about to meet as well) and I still had gaps in my understanding of what it means to be transgender. While I can’t go back in time and respond differently to that courageous person’s question, I’ve learned a lot since then and would like to share with you how you can respond to people when they ask, “But what about the idea that God doesn’t make mistakes?”

Conflating Transgender with Gender Dysphoria

I met Jonah on a hot, sticky, sweaty afternoon at The Wild Goose Festival. And if you’ve ever been to The Wild Goose Festival then you know that “hot, sticky, and sweaty” are unnecessary qualifiers for “afternoon.” It is assumed.

Jonah is a queer, trans pastor and community organizer from Milwaukee and over the last several years they have taught me a lot about the transgender experience. Of course like all identity groups, transgender people are not a monolith. If you’ve met ten trans people, then you’ve met ten trans experiences and perspectives. It’s both impossible and unwise to refer to the trans experience as a universal one, but at the same time there is enough overlap in the trans community that it behooves us cisgender folk to be aware. To learn. To listen.

One evening last year I sat at my desk reflecting on some news I’d just received that someone I love had recently made the courageous choice to identify as transgender. While I’ve spent years and countless hours studying and reflecting on matters of homosexuality and the Bible, the same couldn’t yet be said on transgender topics. I knew basic information, and I certainly had deep and meaningful relationships with a number of trans people, but when my loved one came out as trans I knew I needed to increase my database of resources. Not just for myself but also in the event I could be of help to either them and/or others in their lives who might soon be looking to better understand what was happening. So I texted Jonah and asked if they had a suggestion for a book that would be like a Transgender 101, so I could become more educated about trans people’s experiences.

“Hey Jonah, what’s your go-to recommendation to help people learn about gender dysphoria and the experience of trans people?” I sent via Messages. If this term is unfamiliar to you, gender dysphoria is the name of the diagnosis given by professionals to define the deep discomfort a person can feel when who they know themselves to be on the inside (ie, their deeply felt sense of gender identity) does not match the body they were born with (ie, their biological sex) nor the way the world sees them, which is usually based on culturally developed gendered stereotypes. In 2013 gender dysphoria was added to the DSM-5, however—and this is key—not because being transgender is a disorder, but because the intense psychological and emotional pain that sometimes accompanies the experience of being transgender often requires medical, psychological, and social support.

One of my earliest forays into understanding the experience of gender dysphoria came years ago from my friend Paula Stone Williams. Paula is a transwoman author, pastor, and wildly successful TED speaker. She’s also one of the smartest and most grounded people I know, utterly confident and secure in who she is. Yet that wasn’t always her story. In her memoir, As a Woman: What I Learned about Power, Sex, and the Patriarchy after I Transitioned, Paula reflects on the distress she experienced for decades living as a man (the biology of her birth) all the while knowing—since before she could even spell her name—that she was a girl. But her world had no place for her, no category for her narrative, and specifically (since she was raised in and thrived in the evangelical world) no theological allowance for her existence. While as a man, Paula outwardly experienced a successful life by all conceivable metrics (family, children, fame, industry respect, and so on), inwardly she suffered year after year. For Paula, living out of alignment with her true self was torturous. She experienced the distress and depression of dysphoria, and for years viewed it as something to fight and try to triumph over. I imagine that her journey, unique though it is to her, mirrors many who identify as transgender insofar as it relates to the pain and the suffering endured while living out of gender identity alignment.

Since Paula is one of my closest and longest running friends-who-are-also-trans, and because her story shares commonalties with many other trans people’s stories, I inadvertently developed the assumption that all transgender experience is rooted in dysphoria. What I had yet to learn was that just because a person identifies as transgender does not therefore mean they also experience and/or suffer from the associated dysphoria. My text exchange with Jonah revealed both my conflation as well as the gaps in my knowledge.

After replying back with a helpful link for a Transgender 101 type website, Jonah then sent the following, “Honestly, I wouldn’t start with dysphoria. If that’s what’s coming up for people, I totally get it and it’s worth responding to. But to the extent that you can lead people into deeper understanding of transness, there are other places to go. In general, trans people have led with dysphoria because we often feel backed into a corner—as though we must justify our existence through our suffering. But there’s also conversations to be had about gender euphoria, gender bending, and in general the experience of holding an identity that experiences the world fundamentally differently than cis people (and not for the worse).”

Woah. Okay. I think I may have responded with the mind-blown emoji, or at least that’s what I remember feeling. What an exceptional and (what I wish would have been more) obvious observation. This is part of what I alluded to in Chapter 1 when I talked about how my relationships with LGBTQ people are imperative because these aren’t things I experience directly. I’m constantly learning and listening and adapting as best as I know how. And Jonah was absolutely right, of course not all trans people experience dysphoria. I mistakenly thought “dysphoria” served as synonym for “mismatched,” implying that to be transgender was to experience gender dysphoria. But in its clinical usage dysphoria is not about the state of being, it’s the distress felt within that state.

An imperfect analogy might be motion sickness. The other day I rode an old school Whirl-a-Twirl carnival ride with my 13 year old. Now, when I was 13, or 23, or sheesh even 33, I could’ve whirl’d and twirl’d many times with great delight. But 43?! Good gravy, as soon as the ride began my panic began. For about 30 solid seconds—which felt like an eternity—I was convinced that my corndog from five minutes earlier was fixing to reemerge. So while my son and I were experiencing the same thing, our experience of that experience was as diametric as it gets. To borrow from Jonah’s text, my son was experiencing ride euphoria, whereas I was in immediate need of psychological and emotional support due to suffering from ride dysphoria.

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For example, upon reading an early draft of one of my first chapters, a friend of mine sent me this.

He wasn’t wrong. My writing was, well, in need of help. (Thanks again, Derek :)

Another thing I learned came from my editor who kept using the word “scope.” Since the topic of the Bible and homosexuality could go in many different directions (directions I kept trying to take it during my first draft), my editor routinely reminded me of the scope of the book.

Just the six clobber passages, Colby. (Thanks again, Jessica :)

And so that’s what UnClobber did. Its scope was narrow, exploring only the material found in Genesis 19, Leviticus 18 & 22, Romans 1, 1 Corinthians 6, and 1 Timothy 1.

While that made for a compelling and clear book, it didn’t take long before learning there are other clobber-adjacent passages that many people wish I would’ve included.

Top of that list?

The story about Adam and Eve.

As I mentioned the other day, my next book, But What About: The Most Asked Questions on Faith, the Bible, and LGBTQ Inclusion seeks to continue building the case (the one I started in 2016 with UnClobber) that the LGBTQ affirming position is not a departure of our Christian faith but is, in fact, its truest expression.1

My approach in But What About was to compile the questions that have been most frequently asked at my live events and workshops, or sent through my website and DMs.

Questions asked by those who still aren’t convinced that all people are beloved children of God just as they are.

And one of those most asked questions is, But what about Adam and Eve?

So as I did with Chapter 2, I’d like to now offer you a glimpse into Chapter 3.

Enjoy.

-Colby

p.s. If you haven’t already, make sure to pre-order But What About on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Target, Powells, or other options here.

CHAPTER 3
But What About Adam and Eve?

Non-Affirming Claim:

I laughed, albeit uncomfortably, the first time I heard someone say it.

Not because it was all that funny (it isn’t) but I think the discomfort of the moment combined with the grade school theological wit managed to elicit my involuntary reaction.

While working at a church in Phoenix, our staff went out to lunch one day and was waited on by a rather colorful server. After taking our orders he tossed a flirtatious aside toward one of the other male pastors as he sauntered away. Visibly upset, my unapologetically homophobic friend blurted out, “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” Ha. I guess? But mostly, just no.

I’m not sure what bothers me more, the fact that many Christians still believe that a few details from an ancient story settle the matter of human sexuality once and for all, or, the fact that I too (back in my evangelical days) also found the juvenile quip about “Adam and Steve” compelling. Or at least, I recall thinking it was clever. Did I ever pause to consider that such a “clever” quip was also dismissive, reductionist, and hurtful? Doubtful, but then again at that time my attitude was probably something like, “Who cares, it was true, right? Sometimes truth hurts.”

Do you know what else hurts? When someone doesn’t care enough to care. I wish more Christians would consider the impact of this self-congratulatory clever response on other people. I wish I had cared more. Shrugging off a core aspect of someone’s sense of self (ie, their sexual orientation) with nursery rhyme theology reveals a remarkable lack of respect, and if a Christian is at all interested in taking the teachings of Jesus seriously then treating people with such little respect is not an option. Whether you like them or not, or agree with them or not, gay people are human beings made in the image of God and they deserve better. Jesus instructed us to love our enemies and do good to those who hate us. Where in that equation is there any room to treat a fellow human being with contempt? And make no mistake, quips like, “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” drip with contempt. It says, “I think so little of this subject matter—so little of you—that I need only recite this one-liner to dismiss your humanity.” Let me be clear: Anytime we invalidate the existence of other humans we are doing Christianity wrong.

As much as I’d like to ignore the absurdity of this rejoinder and dismiss it as lazy logic, the ubiquity of “not Adam and Steve” requires a response. Perhaps not the saying itself, but the belief behind the saying. Many non-affirming Christians believe that the story of Adam and Eve provides modern day readers sufficient justification for being anti-LGBTQ. They insist that Genesis 1-3 says God created the first two humans (a male, Adam; then a female, Eve) and declared the two shall become one flesh. Therefore, because God did not create a man and a man (who presumably God would’ve named Steve?), humans are therefore inherently and exclusively designed for opposite sex relationships. When people say, “But what about Adam and Eve” as a rhetorical statement of the non-affirming position, they’re saying that any variation of one man + one woman is an aberration of God’s original plan.

But are they correct? Does the Creation story provide justification for saying God only blesses straight relationship? A proper understanding of what is (and is not) going on in the Creation story should dismantle any notion that either the orientation of homosexuality or same sex relationships are wrong, disordered, or sinful.

Neither Historical nor Literal

For years I read Old Testament stories—especially those in early Genesis—with about as much critical thought as a children’s book. Actually, I take that back. Reading the Creation account in Genesis 1-3 as though it were a children’s book would have been an improvement. After all, when you read a children’s book like, say, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie you understand that the talking animals in the story ought not be taken literally. We appreciate that such stories are meant to illustrate a larger point the author is attempting to convey. We know that regardless of how much mice like cookies and pigs like pancakes it doesn’t mean they’ve developed human level communicative capacities. Yet many grownups read the opening chapters of Genesis and go, “Hmmm, so all of humanity came from just two human beings who once talked with a snake? Cool. That tracks. No further questions.” Recently a friend told me about a Jewish commentary on Genesis which explained how the inclusion of the talking snake in the story was the signal for the original audience to know, oooh, this is a story! It’s not just that we shouldn’t read the story as literal, it’s that the story itself screams, “Don’t take me literally!” Perhaps if we titled Genesis 3, If You Give a Human an Apple, we’d have less misunderstandings.

Unfortunately, as it stands many Christians think the opening chapters of Genesis should be read literally and as historical fact. In other words, if there was an ancient fly on the wall tasked with hitting record on a Sony camcorder then we’d literally have footage of God creating Earth and the celestial bodies in four 24 hour days (Genesis 1:1-19); then filling the water and air with creatures on the fifth day (Genesis 1:20-23); and finally loading up the dry land with the animals on the sixth day. From there, if you pressed fast forward, you’d witness a conversation between Eve and a snake, followed by both humans eating the forbidden fruit, and ending with you crying on your couch as God expels them from a real garden named Eden.

Such a literal and historical view on Genesis accounts for a recent Gallup survey which revealed that 4 in 10 Americans believe in what is called Young Earth Creationism (YEC). This viewpoint maintains that the earth is approximately 10,000 years old, and that God created two fully formed humans (Adam and Eve) who then populated the entire planet. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but the evidence for the age of the universe is so overwhelmingly in favor of being really, really old—think billions of years, not thousands. Any claim to a Young Earth at this point is scientifically embarrassing. However, I would do well to keep some humility nearby, because this used to be how I thought. And when you’re raised with only one set of ideas to support one conclusion, you can only ever know what you know. That being said, the explosion of the information age via the internet has all but rendered such a siloed position obsolete. We just know too much now. There are no good scientific reasons to think our planet is 10,000 years old, but YECs don’t use science to arrive at a young Earth. They get there via a hyper literal reading of the Old Testament where they read genealogy lists like the one in Genesis 5, count the ages of humans from Noah back to Adam, and conclude that the planet’s Creation therefore happened only a few thousand years ago.

At this point, I think the only reason Christians believe in a Young Earth is because they choose to read Genesis literally, not because they have sufficient reasons or data to back it up. And they either choose to read the Bible literally because it’s all they’ve ever known (and mistakenly assume it’s how Christians have always read Scripture), or because they’ve been taught that not reading it literally is dangerous. One prominent Young Earth Creationist put it like this, “Christians who flirt with less-than-literal readings of biblical texts are also flirting with theological disaster.” I remember being raised with that mentality. You either believe God’s word all the way (and “believe” was always used to imply, “read the text literally”) or not at all. That kind of binary thinking is understandably scary. Who would dare risk questioning a six day creation story, or the historicity of Adam and Eve, if that meant we were simultaneously questioning the death and resurrection of Jesus?! This all-or-nothing mentality imprisons Christians in a trap of fear, but I’m telling you the trap has no lock. You can just… leave.

I know it’s frightening because we’ve probably never been told this (or worse, we’ve been taught to fear this), but there are many other ways a person can read and “believe” the Bible that don’t require a literal interpretation. You can absolutely still believe the Bible and not read it in a literal sense. Reading portions of Scripture in non-literal ways (be it allegory, metaphor, poetry, etc) is not a less-than approach, it’s actually taking the Bible more seriously. In fact, sometimes in order to rightly believe the Bible we must not read it literally. For instance, most Christians don’t think that men should literally gouge out their eye or cut off their hand if they lust after a woman because they understand Jesus was using hyperbole to make a point. In cases like this, interpreting the passage literally would actually be the “less-than” approach that fundamentalists warn about.

Speaking of taking the Bible seriously, and to aid us in our efforts to move away from a rigidly literal interpretation, did you know there are actually two Creation stories in Genesis?

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In short, the fully affirming and LGBTQ inclusive position within Christianity remains the minority. That was true ten years ago when I wrote UnClobber and—though the affirming position has seen enormous growth in the past decade—it is still the case today.

Which is why I’m not done talking about it nor done writing about it. Perhaps I’ll stop banging this drum when we’ve hit the point where 51% of churches in America fully welcome, accept, and affirm LGBTQ people, but since we’re not even at double digits yet, the harvest is still more than plentiful.

Ergo, I hope my next book, But What About: The Most Asked Questions on Faith, the Bible, and LGBTQ Inclusion will become as helpful a resource as UnClobber has been in terms of demonstrating how the fully affirming position is not a departure of our Christian faith but is, in fact, its truest expression.2

To make that case, I spent the last few years compiling some of the questions that have been most frequently asked at my live events and workshops, or sent through my website and DMs. Because here’s what I’ve learned after doing this work for more than a decade: while UnClobber helped thousands of people sort through the six clobber passages on their way to full inclusion, other people have reasonable follow-up questions.

And those questions often begin with the setup: But what about…?

Hence the title of my book, and hence the project to further advocate for the unquestioning belovedness of all people.

But What About doesn’t release for another few weeks (but you can pre-order it today from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Target, Powells, and others here), so I figured I’d give you a taste of what’s to come.

Therefore, down below is an excerpt from Chapter 2 titled, But What About the Bible?

Enjoy.

-Colby

CHAPTER 2
But What About the Bible?

Non-Affirming Claim:

For any readers concerned about the theological ideas in the coming pages, if it’s any comfort then know that—at least according to @qenzio1545 on one of my videos about LGBTQ inclusion—I’m only an “average heretic.”

Although, what does it say about me that I take more umbrage with “average” than I do heretic? I mean, people have been lobbing the label “heretic” my way for years, but average? I take seriously Paul’s instruction, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,” (Colossians 3:23), so to only get rated as average is a bit of a bummer. At least according to @edbaird7687 I’m memorable. “Hey everybody, remember this guy’s face when you spend eternity in a very bad place. Tell the devil that this guy said you should be here. Ha ha.” Yes, Ed, hilarious.

While I accept this may be an odd way to begin a book, the incredulity many Christians hold that anyone would dare suggest the Bible is not anti-LGBTQ sits at the heart of the first “But What About.” When people ask, But what about the Bible, I’ve found it’s less of a question and more of a statement. They use it as a rhetorical declaration that of course LGBTQ people are sinning against God because the Bible clearly says so. The LGBTQ affirming readers among you are no doubt familiar with these kinds of interactions. For example, @carolinavenzor8502 once wrote, “Wow you are lying about the word of God. Who are you to say it doesn’t say that?” Then there’s @MartyrMaria who told everyone to, “Raise your swords, holy water and Bibles, the demon in disguise plans to lead the lambs astray and we must stop him.”

While I’m flattered that Martyr Maria thinks a demon would choose my face for their disguise, comments like these mostly make me sad. I have to remind myself every time that these comments are not about me because these people don’t even know me. Instead, they come from places of fear and hurt, and I just happened to be the closest lightning rod to receive their projections and protections. I say projections because somewhere along the way they were given untrue messages about God, love, and belonging, and since they’ve never transformed that pain they instead transfer it. And I say protections because deep down they’re terrified they might be wrong. These insecurities cause them to go on the attack in hopes of protecting the things they’ve always believed to be true. When I can keep these things in mind then it’s no big deal for me to get comments like these, read them with a good chuckle, and move on. (In saying this, I’m keenly aware of how my multiple layers of privilege afford me such a posture. It’s far easier for someone like me to brush such comments aside than it is for the young gay kid growing up alone in Alabama. This is part of why I encourage allies of LGBTQ people to keep showing up because we can often times take multiple arrows and keep on going, whereas one arrow might be enough to take an LGBTQ person down.)

That being said, the assumptions behind these kinds of accusations deserve unpacking because they represent the energy behind the most common objection to LGBTQ inclusion, “But what about the Bible?” When affirming Christians make statements like “All people are beloved Children of God,” non-affirming Christians tend to hurl one of three kinds of accusations: either that we are ignorant (we’ve never read the Bible), lying (we’re only telling people what they want to hear, not what’s true), or arrogant (we think we’re superior to God). So let’s address these misconceptions.

Have You Not Read?

Many Christians see the full affirmation of LGBTQ people as absurd. Not because they’re heartless, but because as far as they see it the Bible is clear and obvious: homosexuality is a sin, same sex relationships are outside God’s design, and all humans are only ever one of two genders based on their biological sex. The clarity of Scripture seems so blinding that they’re left to assume people like myself just haven’t read the Bible otherwise we’d also see the obvious. In the words of @sreed7637, “Clearly you haven’t read 1 Corinthians 6:9. Let me help you with a few more verses for understanding: Leviticus 18:22 and Romans 1:26-27.”

In my more charitable moments I can understand this perspective. If all one does is a quick Google search for the Bible and homosexuality, and if the extent of one’s research starts and stops at reading a modern English translation of the text, then I suppose it’s not unreasonable to read, “Do not have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman; that is detestable” (Lev 18:22, NIV) and declare the matter settled. But just because I understand it doesn’t mean I think it’s valid. On the contrary, it’s actually quite ridiculous to think that LGBTQ affirming Christians haven’t read their Bible.

None of us arrived at our positions without having taken seriously the Bible’s most often used verses on the topic. In fact I’d wager that on average the typical affirming Christian has engaged the clobber passages by orders of magnitude more than those out there who are copy/pasting Romans 1:26-27 in random people’s comment sections. The other day I read a meme saying something to the effect of, Fun Fact: LGBTQ Christians spend years studying Greek and learning to exegete Scripture all so we can be told by strangers online that we’ve never read our Bibles. I feel the frustration behind that sentiment deeply.

The bottom line is, Christians who have changed their heart and mind to become affirming of LGBTQ people have come by our convictions honestly. Accusing the affirming position of being ignorant is deeply inaccurate and desperate. In fact, the irony is that behind many of the allegations of those who call affirming Christians “ignorant” is, well, some genuine ignorance. Allow me to explain.

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The other day I wrote an (arguably overly philosophical and navel-gazing) article waxing on about how our experience of every given moment in the here and now is our experience of our life.

So how you are feeling right now, in this moment, is also how you are feeling about capital-L Life.

I then suggested that this creates a problem because life, for the most part, is not designed to perfectly suit our preferences. Which means we inevitably encounter the ever present feelings of being disappointed, disillusioned, frustrated, anxious, and otherwise unsettled.

Everything from the mundane:

• Your family used up all the hot water so your morning shower is cold

• The neighbors played music late into the night so your sleep was disrupted

• Every light was red on your drive to work

• The coffee pot at the office is broken

• Nobody has engaged with the photos from your European trip on Instagram

• Your partner planned a dinner meet up with people you don’t really like

To the more substantial:

• The stock market took a dive, and took much of your savings with it

• The doctor’s office finally called back with the results—not good

• The Strait of Hormuz is… well, who knows anymore

• One of your kids is icing you out and hasn’t spoken to you in months

• The check engine light came on… again

• Another person needlessly dies at the hands of ICE

Put simply, the game is rigged.

The odds are ever not in our favor.

So if we don’t come up with a strategy (or two or three) for how to show up to each moment of every day in a way that doesn’t leave us constantly blown by the winds of a universe not created to keep us safe and cozy, then we will suffer. A lot.

(And, I would argue, needlessly so. I think we can actually practice being bothered less. That’s kind of the engine behind this entire line of thinking.)

By the way, what I’ve been trying to explain has already been summed up by the Buddha who taught that “life is suffering.” It was his way of naming that we exist within an ecosystem ill-suited to meet our every needs.

If we want to enjoy our life…

(But do you? I do)

and if we want to have some semblance of control…

(or perhaps “influence” is a better word)

for how we are feeling in the here and now…

then we darn well better consider how to use this (*points to head*) and this (*points to heart*) in ways that help us deal with all that (*points to everything else*).

Why Do Those Things Bother You?

If you missed my post the other day I named a few things that really bother me. Or to be more honest, things I let bother me.

Then I invited you to make your own list and sit with the question: Why?

Why do those things bother you?

Since I won’t ask you to do something I won’t also do, let me share what came up for me in that exercise.

Here’s five things that bother me, and then some thoughts on why.

• People Playing Music in Public Spaces (eg. Beach or Hiking)
  This bothers me because I like the sounds of nature over and above the sounds of humans. Other people’s music is lovely for them, but for me it’s just noise—especially if it’s music I don’t like, or doesn’t fit the vibe I was hoping for with my beach day or hike. It bothers me because I had a certain expectation about laying in the sun, relaxing to the sounds of breaking waves; I had expectations about communing with the birds and the trees and the thoughts in my own head… and your aggressive and artificial noise is assaulting my consciousness.

• Public Phone Usage
  Phalking (aka, Phone-walking) bothers me because why do I have to watch where you are walking? If you’re going to stare down at your phone while walking, the you should assume the risk of running into things, not me. Your lack of paying attention is annoying to me. And not using headphones for your phone call or for your social media scrolling bothers me because why should I have to listen to the nonstop drivel coming from your TikTok algorithm? To the person who’s doing the physical scrolling the sudden start/stop of constant sounds is less disruptive because their body/mind knows to expect a new sound upon each swipe. But to innocent bystanders? We’re just constantly bombarded by new noises every few seconds. Ugh. Rude.

• Fast and Reckless Driving
  This bothers me because I don’t want to get into a car accident, nor do I want anyone else on the road to either. Driving is dangerous enough without you making it 10x worse for yourself and others.

• Holding Tiny Microphones
  This bothers me because it looks ridiculous. It looks like when Shaq was on Hot Ones, his giant hands holding (what only appear to be) tiny chicken wings. I’ve spent most of my life in and around microphones and sound systems, so I have a certain aesthetic assumption about what it looks like to hold a mic, and when people pinch these tiny microphones like they’re clutching a Lego it just looks dumb.

• Saying “Right” All the Time
  This bothers me because I can’t not hear it anymore and because everyone and their mom does it. It makes the person sound (to me, of course) uneducated—which is absurd, because some of the smartest people do it! Nails on a chalkboard, man.

After I do that exercise of seriously trying to articulate why things bother me, here’s what I notice.

1. I can get bothered by what I perceive as selfish behavior. When people think that their reality, their needs, their wants, their preferences are more important than everyone else’s.

   1. What makes you think we all want to listen to your music? What makes you think your desire to drive fast is more important than our safety? Why are you expecting all of us to get out of your way while you’re phalking?

2. I can get bothered when my expectations are not met. In my mind I have a way I want/hope/expect something to go, and when that gets thwarted because of choices made by other people, I don’t like it.

   1. I wanted this hike to be peaceful and you’ve ruined it. I wanted to sit in this cafe and read but your phone call is hogging the sonic space.

3. I can get bothered when my preferences and opinions are not prioritized.

   1. I think saying “right” constantly knocks you down a peg or two. I think holding a tiny mic looks silly and you should care more about how it looks.

When I spell it out like that, I immediately notice just how hypocritical I can be (I accuse you of being selfish, all the while I get annoyed when things don’t go my way), and, I can clearly see the existential problem as outlined above:

the world is not, and never will be, arranged perfectly to suit my every need or want.

Look, maybe the argument can be made that some of the above things are objectively annoying, while others are subjectively bothersome to me. But even still, let’s go ahead and say that driving fast and reckless on the freeway is universally and inherently problematic, that doesn’t actually solve anything. I can’t slow drivers down. I can’t jump inside their consciousness and elevate how they see the world so that they give a crap about other lives on the road. I have no control over them.

So I’m back at square one. The bothering is still happening inside of me.

There are things that bother me because, for whatever reason, I, Colby, get bothered by them. They don’t bother everyone, but they do bother me. This is subjective bothering.

And there are things that may indeed be inherently annoying and very likely would bother everyone, yet I, Colby, am helpless to change it. This is objective bothering.

What has helped me greatly over the years is coming to the realization that regardless of the category of bothering (subjective or objective) I am not powerless in how I feel about it.

Or maybe more accurately put, I have agency in what I do in response to my initial feelings about.

Even if there is that initial feeling of getting annoyed (e.g. I’m listening to a podcast and the person being interviewed keeps saying “right” at the end of their sentence, and every time my internal Bother-Meter gets pinged), there is a next moment.

There is a space just after that ping.

And it is in that space where my agency arrives.

It is in that space where we do, as it turns out, have some say about how we experience our life.

Agree? Disagree? Thoughts?

I’m curious what this brings up for you. Would love to hear.

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It’s not a question to move on from too quickly. Because if you do value it, then that leads to follow up questions such as: Then why do you play so fast and loose with it?

Let’s see if I can explain what I’m getting at…

Your Experience of Your Life IS Your Life

My experience of any given moment, how I’m feeling right now, is my experience of my life.

It may not be an overstatement to say that how we are feeling right now is how you are feeling about your life. Yes of course there are ways to measure and assess our lives at a much higher level with much broader brush strokes. But I’m talking about the moment to moment way in which I, you, we experience our lives.

It is happening right now. Indeed, now is all there is. So whatever your experience of the Now is, IS how your currently experiencing Life.

Make sense? Cool.

Here’s the thing, though. Life is unpredictable. Full of difficulties and obstacles. And rarely (if ever?) are our environments perfectly matched to meet our every needs.

Which means we are constantly confronted by forces, interactions, and experiences that carry the potential to cause us discomfort or disturbance.

And then that means,

if I don’t figure out how to sort through things in HERE (points to head)

and in HERE (points to heart),

then my experience of my life will be one feeling of hard after another because I can’t do a darn thing about things out THERE (points to everywhere else in the Universe).

So to that end, I’ve been thinking about some the things that really bother me. The things that annoy me. That get under my skin and shift me from “one second ago I was feeling good, but now I’m feeling less-than-good.”

Because if I can be aware of what things bother me,

and if I can learn to notice when said bothering is happening in me,

and if I’m intentional about practicing taking responsibility for my part in it,

then perhaps I’ll experience the feelings of “being bothered” less often,

which could then mean that my experience of my life improves,

which ultimately means…

my life improves.

You with me so far? Good.

Then here’s a question:

Why do we let things bother us?

Before you begin building a rejoinder in your mind and argue with me that “I don’t LET things bother me, things are just that bad!” or “If I don’t let things bother me, doesn’t that mean I have a cold, hard heart?” hear me out.

1. Things can be bad and you can remain unbothered.

2. You can remain unbothered and still be a compassionate, soft-hearted person.

In fact, I would suggest that a sign of someone who is centered, grounded, and whose heart is open, is that they don’t get all hot and bothered by events happening all around them.

Or at the very least, they are extremely selective about when they choose to feel bothered.

In other words, getting bothered is their exception not the norm. (And if you think I’m intending to describe some zen monk who disciplines themselves to remain unattached—and therefore avoid suffering—that isn’t exactly what I have in mind, even if such an approach to life has its merits.)

No, I’m talking about a person who:

• stays somewhat connected or at least aware of the on-goings of the world (aka, not a head-in-the-sand pollyanna);

• someone who interacts with and engages with others (aka, not a recluse);

• someone who takes an interest in the problems of society and cares about the suffering of others (aka, not uncaring);

• someone who has desires and hopes and aspirations (aka, not apathetic);

and yet at the same time they rarely let things bother them.

Okay, perhaps now is a good time to explain what I mean by “bother.”

What’s in a Bother

When I say, “don’t let things bother you,” I’m using bother to mean annoy, irritate, or otherwise disturb you.

Typically the feelings of getting bothered by something or someone is the first level of feelings when we get activated. From there, and depending on the intensity and the context, our feelings may escalate to feeling upset, then distressed, then anguished, and I supposed feeling tormented would be the most extreme.

But bothered?

That’s the initial notification that our inner peace (assuming we have some to begin with) has been disturbed. It is a mild irritation. It’s the exhale of breath that causes the candlelight to flicker and dance, nearly getting snuffed out. It’s the subtle muscle twitch while trying to stand on one leg that threatens to throw us off balance.

It is, if we are honest with ourselves, a relatively small thing, yet a thing that annoys us nonetheless.

Here’s a few examples of things that cause feelings of annoyance and irritation to arise in me.

I get bothered…

• when people (at the beach, or camping, or on a hike) play music loud enough for anyone who isn’t them to hear it;

• when people are on their phone in public. (Look, that alone is enough to bother me, but it’s even worse when they’re walking while staring down at their phone; when they’re FaceTiming {or even just on a call} with the other person on speaker phone; when they’re mindlessly scrolling Reels or TikTok with the audio on but not using headphones);

• when people drive fast and reckless on the freeway, swerving in and out of traffic with abandon;

• when people hold tiny microphones while doing their Reels/TikToks;

• when people incessantly and needlessly say “right” at the end of their sentences.

Those things bother me.

Or, to be more precise—and to get to the heart of the question I started this post with—I let those things bother me.

Meaning, I am fully aware that the above behaviors are not inherently irritating or objectively annoying. And I can admit that they do not bother everyone (even though personally I wish they would!).

Once I admit that, then I am invited to take responsibility for my own feelings.

If those things bother me—and they do—it’s because I let them.

In other words, the Bad News is that the things that bother me are not inherently or objectively wrong, which means I cannot expect humanity to evolve beyond them and do better. The world will not get fixed according to my preferences, sadly.

But the Good News?

I can do something about me.

I can’t change you (and your choice to play music at the beach, or stare at your phone while walking through the airport, or scroll loudly through TikTok at a restaurant, or say “right” at the end of every other sentence), but because I’m now aware that my feelings of irritation/bothering/annoyance happen because I let them happen, then that means I have some agency here.

I’ll say more about that agency and what it looks like in a future post, but for now it’s enough just to sit with the question:

Why do you let things bother you?

If you’d like to play along, make a list of the things that bother you.

Then, be mature enough to own that these things bother you, not everyone, therefore you have some responsibility for how you feel.

Finally, see what comes up when you ask yourself, “Okay, well then why do these things bother me?”

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I am giving away ten signed copies of UnClobber

This week is the 10th Anniversary of UnClobber, and to celebrate I want to sign and send ten copies of the book to ten lucky winners.

I’ll award five random winners here on Substack, as well as five random winners over on Instagram.

Here’s how to enter.

ENTER TO WIN ON SUBSTACK

1. If you haven’t already then subscribe to this, my newsletter (sweepstakes open to all levels of subscription, you do not need to be a paid subscriber to enter).

2. Click the Heart/Like icon at the bottom

3. BONUS: Increase your chance to win by also clicking the “Restack” icon

Subscribe now

ENTER TO WIN ON INSTAGRAM

1. Go to my post over on IG and “Like” it

2. Comment and tag two people (either folks you think might like UnClobber, or folks who’ve supported your UnClobber journey, or just random friends you wanna tag so that you’ve satisfied the requirements :)

3. BONUS: Increase your chance to win by tapping the “Reshare” icon

That’s it!

Easy Peasy.

I don’t care if you enter to win on both platforms. But you do have to live in the U.S., sorry 😬

Sweepstakes will end on Friday Oct 9th.

I’ll pick the ten winners on Tuesday Oct 13th and reach out via email (for Substack winners) and DM (for IG) winners to get your name and address.

I think that’s all I got.

Thanks for celebrating with me.

Good luck!

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Which tells me two things:

1. Clearly this particular topic is not (yet) a settled matter in the church. Sales indicate it’s even more popular today than it was in 2016.

2. Something about this book—whether it’s my own personal story and/or the accessible, intuitive, and researched handling of the clobber passages—still resonates with people.

The other day I retold the story of how UnClobber came into existence. I’d call it a coincidence, a chance occurrence, a right-time-right-place kind of thing…

but then again,

I don’t know that I believe in all that.

You see, I’m somewhere in between “God Orchestrates Everything That Happens Like Chess Pieces on a Gameboard” and “God Wound-Up Creation Like a Clock and Now Just Sits Back and Observes.”

I don’t think things are random. Probably.

Nor are they perfectly planned and executed by an all powerful Being. Probably.

Truth is I don’t know how it all works (and you shouldn’t trust me if I said I did). When it comes to things like how my book deal came together, as I wrote the other day, I believe my choices to take risks, be vulnerable, and stay open created a fertile ground in which something really, really beautiful could emerge.

So if landing a book deal was lucky, then I guess I side with the research that suggests you make your own luck. If God does and/or can make things happen, then maybe he can only work with pieces that are in movement.

Sit around and wait for miracles? Not sure that does much.

Perhaps Michael Scott said it best:

These past few weeks I’ve been reflecting on the ten years since UnClobber came out.

I’ve been flooded with memories of all the people I’ve met, emails I’ve read, and stories I’ve been witness to.

Stories of the kind of impact UnClobber has had on people. Because that’s really what I care about. More than the sales numbers (over 50k in ten years) or the royalties (about $5k/year… a nice little check, but obviously ain’t no one gettin’ rich over here), I am truly moved and humbled by the number of people’s hearts, minds, and lives that have been changed.

That’s where the magic lays, baby.

And as I’ve been thinking about that magic, I’ve been thinking about the most common kinds of feedback I’ve gotten from those who’ve read UnClobber.

If I had to boil it all down into three main buckets I’d say: There are theological, practical, and deeply personal reasons why UnClobber has connected with so many people over the years.

Here’s what I mean.

THEOLOGICAL REASONS

Unsurprisingly, one of the ways UnClobber has impacted people most is by casting a new and better vision for God, the Bible, and sexuality.

Theology (or, the study of God and religious beliefs) is how us finite humans attempt to wrap our minds around the Divine. For people of faith, how we think about God matters… a lot. And many Christians have been conditioned to see the Bible as the single most important (if not only) way that we can know God.

Therefore, what the Bible does or does not say about any topic is of great consequence.

For most of church history the traditional perspective has been: homosexuality is an aberration and abomination, and, the only kind of relationship God blesses are straight marriages. To back their positions the Church has used the Bible. Of course, I argue they have misused the Bible, and that’s the case UnClobber makes.

So for the past ten years, those looking to better understand the clobber passages (those six pesky, misunderstood, mistranslated, and misapplied Bible passages) have found a path forward. A path that doesn’t disregard the Bible, but goes straight at the heart of things.

Here’s how Harold in Ohio put it:

People have read and shared UnClobber because it unlocks them from harmful ideas, and it introduces them to a God who loves them… just as they are.

In the words of Amanda from Palm Desert:

PRACTICAL REASONS

Practically speaking, I hear over and over again how UnClobber has equipped people (both LGTBQ and allies) to be better prepared for Thanksgiving tables, late night phone calls, and online interactions.

For example, Aliyah in San Francisco found new ways to start having conversations with her family:

Many of us raised in the church were told to always “be prepared to give an answer for the hope in our hearts” (1 Peter 3:15). Typically that meant having Bible verses memorized so we could proselytize at any given point.

And look, being able to articulate why you think a certain way is a wonderful thing. We just may no longer feel as though the thing we want to articulate is an apologetic defense for a narrow-minded God, or a fear and shame based narrative meant to convert people.

But knowing what to say when your old Evangelical church community confronts you about your support for LGBTQ equality?

Or when your grandpa is curious about your new boyfriend?

Or when your mom doesn’t understand why you’d turn your back on God for the ways of the world?

Being able to help people be prepared for those kinds of conversations? That’s incredible.

One of my favorite descriptions for UnClobber is when people call it “accessible.” Because I wrote this not for the ivory towers and not for those who love to pour over 400 page tomes. I wrote this for the everyday reader hoping to have some kind of rejoinder to that obnoxious and ignorant claim, “Well the Bible clearly says…”

Mike from South Carolina told me how it helps him know how to respond to his Evangelical friends and family:

PERSONAL REASONS

The last category of Reasons People Read UnClobber is for the personal transformation it affords.

Even more than the theology (which is great) and the equipping with how to talk to people (with is lovely), people tell me over and over and over again just what this book has meant for the wellbeing of their soul.

Recently I got to meet Timothy in Arkansas who told me:

Far, far too many LGBTQ people were given unjust and unfair ultimatums: either accept God or accept your sexuality, because you can’t have both.1

Which is, pardon my French, absolute and utter bulls***

Of COURSE you can identity as LGBTQ and also follow Jesus! It is a wild suggestion to say otherwise. Wild and, well, unbiblical—which is not a word I throw around often or lightly.

More than any other feedback, more than any other story, more than any other email/conversation/interaction I have with people who read UnClobber, nothing moves me more than when someone tells me how my book gave them permission to love God and love themselves.

That’s it.

That’s everything.

That’s the whole ballgame right there.

I agree with Jesus when he said that love is what matters most. Love God (with every single part of you!) and love your neighbor as you love yourself—and good luck figuring out how to love your neighbor if you can’t first learn to love your Self.

Knowing that people—thousands upon thousands of people—have found a way back home to themselves, back home to their faith, because of words I put on a page??

It’s a gift of grace far beyond what I could ever conceive.

I’m honored, humbled, and deeply grateful in ways I’m still learning to feel.

A TRUSTWORTHY GUIDE

Finally, if I had to pick a fourth bonus bucket, it’s profoundly meaningful to me when people tell me that UnClobber is one of the few books they feel confident and/or comfortable recommending to their friends and family.

They tell me how their dad wouldn’t read something written by a gay person (unfortunately, of course), and so it’s actually because I’m straight that some people give my book to friends and family.

Or they’ll tell me how their friends wouldn’t read something from a person who doesn’t take Scripture seriously, or who dismisses the Bible outright. So when folks hear that I’m a (former) evangelical who was trained in the Baptist world, and that I do my best to honor the sacred texts, it builds a kind of report and trustworthiness.

I know enough about this work and this world to know that in some ways, and for some people, my identity as a straight, cisgender, while guy can be a problem. We’ve taken up far too much of the space for far too long. So I’m constantly looking for ways to get out of the way, and/or elevate and highlight other voices. But I’ve learned to trust the many LGBTQ people who have these past ten years told me that they want me and need me to keep going in this work.

Heard. Thank you, Chef.

Recently I got this incredible message from Valerie in New York:

So from the bottom of my heart I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has read UnClobber, who has shared it, who has gifted it, who has preached from it, who has recommended it, who has reviewed and rated and otherwise tried to get the word out there about it.

Thank you for supporting not just me and my work, but more so thank you for supporting the ongoing work of creating a better world through better beliefs.

Ten years down… and we’re only just getting started.

Get a Signed Copy of UnClobber

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The UnClobber Initiative

Founded in 2024, The UnClobber Initiative is a ministry focused on:

• Training on the clobber passages

• Equipping churches for full inclusion

• Coaching pastors and leaders

• Creating resources for better beliefs

The UnClobber Initiative is what allows me to travel as much as I do, and to bring the good news of full inclusion to places all over the country.

If you’d like to learn more and/or make a tax-deductible donation today, visit The UnClobber Initiative.

Support The UnClobber Initiative

The Follow-Up to UnClobber is Coming Soon

My dream of one day being a published author not only came true ten years ago, but then came true again with The Shift in 2020, and will come true for a third time this November with But What About.

But What About: The Most Asked Questions on Faith, the Bible, and LGBTQ Inclusion is releasing on Nov 17 (St. Martin’s Essentials) and picks up where UnClobber left off.

Once the clobber passages are dealt with, other people still have questions… reasonable, honest, sincere questions.

Not to mention, I’ve got some questions (or, suggestions) of my own—specifically about how the Bible makes all sorts of compelling arguments in favor of inclusion!

So if you’re looking to continue learning why LGBTQ inclusion is the logical conclusion as a follower of Jesus, make sure to get a copy of But What About.

PRE-ORDER NOW

For me, it was over 11 years ago (which I suppose is right around the time when people stopped using business cards altogether, but I digress).

Here’s the story.

Take the Risk

In November of 2014 I took a chance and submitted an application to deliver something called a 7:21 Talk at an upcoming conference called Christianity 21.

What’s a 7:21 Talk you ask?

It’s a mini-presentation in which you assemble 21 images that automatically advance every 20 seconds. You begin your talk with the first slide, and the crowd is instructed to start clapping you off the stage after your twenty first slide. 21 slides at 20 seconds each = 7 minutes. Hence, the 7:21 name.

At that point in my life I was an avid conference attender. Loved ‘em, soaked ‘em up. But I had never before been a speaker at a conference, so it felt pretty vulnerable to throw my name in the hat to give a 7 minute talk, especially considering there were some pretty big names slated to speak at this thing.

Weeks later when I got the email telling me my submission had been chosen I instantly got the butterflies. Though the conference was still more than a month away, I could already feel the nerves. (Fun Fact: even though I’ve given hundreds of sermons and presentations and conference-talks since then I still get nervous butterflies right before I speak.)

I set to work at once. Pouring through my photo albums; scouring Google images; trying to curate the 21 best pictures to guide people through the presentation.

And then, of course, I had to actually write and memorize my talk. It had to be precise. Locked in. I couldn’t follow any tangents, or get lost down any holes of rabbits (and you know I love a good rabbit hole). This thing had to be exactly seven minutes. Even now, when I watch the video of my talk, I realize I didn’t allocate time for audience laughter. Though I was grateful for their responses, I remember thinking, “Yes, I know, I’m hilarious… but shush! I gotta get to my next point!”

Speaking of watching the video of my talk, you can actually do that here. The conference didn’t record the sessions but my friend Mathew had the good instincts to whip out his phone really quick. Be warned, the audio isn’t great. But knowing what I know now—how that moment is probably one of the top five most life changing moments of my life—I’m so glad it got captured.

I’m also so glad I wore that purple argyle sweater 🤣

Sayonara Evangelical World

For those who didn’t just spend seven minutes watching my Talk (and straining to understand what I was saying), here’s a brief overview of what I said.

I told the story of how, in September of 2011, when President Obama signed the repeal for DADT (Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell), it led to me getting fired from the evangelical megachurch I worked at.

How?

Because the night of the repeal I decided to share a news article about it to my Facebook and I wrote,

But here’s the thing, at that time I was still in the theological closet.

Meaning, while I had personally shifted my views on the Bible and homosexuality about a year prior to that moment, professionally I had yet to come out. My church was yet unaware that Pastor Colby no longer held the traditional, anti-LGBTQ position.

Which explains why, when I posted what I did on Facebook, it led to congregational panic. Which then led to an emergency board meeting during which I was asked to give my views on sexuality and marriage.

It was then and there, on Friday Sept 24th, 20011, that I finally externalized my internal convictions: All people are beloved children of God!

Which then, as you might expect, led to being handed a letter of termination three days later.

Sayonara evangelical world.

From there I got a job as a Worship Pastor at a church in San Diego, but that place turned out to be led by a very unwell person who had a habit of hiring/firing people every two years.

That painful experience meant two things for me:

1. I discovered I had teh spiritual gift of getting fired—two times in two years! I know. Be jealous.

2. It opened the opportunity to start a house church, something I’d dreamt about for a long time.

So in the spring of 2014 a small band of amazing humans gathered in our San Diego living room and launched what would soon be called Sojourn Grace Collective, a progressive Christian church that I had the absolute privilege of pastoring for 8+ years.

The gist of my 7:21 Talk, then, was about the ways in which the fractured pieces of our lives can (and do!) often lead to the most beautiful things in our lives.

To end my seven minutes of storytelling about the downs and ups of my pastoral trajectory I said, “Maybe there’s something to this whole ‘resurrection’ thing after all.”

People clapped. Some cheered. I exhaled with relief and left the stage with a ginormous smile.

I did it.

I put myself out there, took a risk, showed up, opened up, and it was terrifyingly awesome.

If You’d Ever Like to Turn That in to a Book…

During the next break and as conference goers milled about, I noticed this woman make a beeline for me.

“I really enjoyed your presentation,” she said as she held out her business card. “My name is Jessica, and if you’d ever like to turn that story in to a book, let’s talk.”

I looked down. Clear as day, right next to her name, sat a logo I immediately recognized from my days in Academia: Westminster John Knox Press.

Then I noticed under her name it said, “Acquisitions Editor.”

Holy smokes.

An editor from a real life, respectable publishing house had just put her card in my hands and said, “Let’s talk.” 😱🤯🤩

(Sidenote: she didn’t say that my choice to wear the purple argyle sweater influenced her decision to approach me, but she didn’t not say that either… so who can ever really know.)

Later that evening I ended up at a group dinner with Jessica and we got to talking about what a future book could look like. About how part of the book could be a memoir and tell the story of Getting Fired —> Starting Sojourn. I also talked about how I really wanted to tackle the clobber passages. You see, at that time there were very few resources on the topic, and I thought a book from my perspective and background (that of a Baptist trained, evangelical pastor) could be really helpful.

A few months went by and Jessica followed up with an email reiterating her desire to work with me. I recently went back over our email exchanges and it would appear that I didn’t respond to her first email for three weeks!

Lol. Good job, past Colby. Way to play hard to get..? 🤦🏻‍♂️

Eventually I sent her a proposal—something I’d never put together before—and listen to this… when I sent it to her I said in my email, “Oh, and let me know if you’re not interested, so that I can shop this around to others.”

“Shop this around to others,” Colby?! Really? What “others,” exactly? 🤣 I crack myself up. I do not remember why I said that or what my plan (if any) was. I think I was just trying to convey how much I really wanted to write the book. Irrational confidence at its finest.

Anyway, a week later she emailed to say that her colleagues really liked the proposal and, oh yeah, “can you write us a sample chapter before our next meeting in two weeks?”

“Of course,” I said. “I write chapters before breakfast.” (Dear reader, that line did not actually say. Although be honest with me, part of you did have the thought, “Hmm, yeah, I could see Colby responding like that.” Thanks. I feel seen.)

So over the next twelve days I managed to write my first ever chapter for an actual/potential book. I sent it to Jessica, she replied back, “We got a great response at our meeting! We want to move this project forward to the next and final decision in three weeks. Can you write us another sample chapter?”

Another chapter? Again? With naught but a few weeks to do so?

At this point I wondered if maybe the publishing industry is a scam. Maybe publishers just keep asking authors for “sample chapters,” then they take those chapters and make books out of them all by themselves.

Regardless, I felt pot committed at this point. So I cranked out another chapter, sent it in, and three days after that, on June 11th 2015, I opened one of the best emails I’ve ever received in my life.

Hi Colby,

I am pleased to let you know that our team has approved your proposal for UnClobber, and we are putting it on our Fall 2016 list! We think your story and style will really resonate with people, and hope your platform will continue to grow.

Celebrating Ten Years

Next week it will ten years (TEN YEARS!!) since UnClobber was published, and I still can hardly believe it.

I plan on doing something fun to celebrate, so make sure to watch this space.

But today, as I re-tell the story of how a business card changed my life, I’m filled with so much wonder and delight at how life… how God… works.

Think about it:

• Getting fired from two churches in two years led to fulfilling a dream of planting a church.

• Nervously telling that story on a stage in front of many people led to being approached by an editor at a publishing house.

• Writing out my research on the clobber passages led to the publishing of my first book.

• And publishing UnClobber has absolutely shaped the course of my life in ways I am still unfolding—including the fact that on November 17th my next book (a follow-up to UnClobber) is releasing!

So I don’t know, maybe the moral of this story is something like: Put yourself out there. Take a risk. Do something new, something brave.

And stay open, because you never know who might cross your path, and you never know where dreams might be hiding.

Turns out, mine were hiding in a business card.

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BUT WHAT ABOUT: The Most Asked Questions on Faith, the Bible, and LGBTQ Inclusion

Ten years after UnClobber I’m coming back with my third book and it picks up where UnClobber left off.

If you read UnClobber then you may recall just how narrow the scope was. Meaning, I only addressed the six clobber passages. Which for many people is enough. Once they deal with Genesis 19, Leviticus 18 & 20, Romans 1, 1 Cor 6 and 1 Tim 1, then they’re good!

However, I’ve learned that other people have follow up questions.

Good, reasonable follow-up questions:

• But what about Adam & Eve?

• But what about God creating two genders?

• But what about biblical marriage?

• But what about ex-gay stories?

• And so on…

So in an effort to continue my 15 year ministry of advocating for full inclusion, and for trying to make the case that the logical conclusion of following Jesus is the full affirmation of LGBTQ people, I’ve written, But What About: The Most Asked Questions on Faith, the Bible, and LGBTQ Inclusion.

It comes out on Nov 17 and you should pre-order it today!

Learn more about BUT WHAT ABOUT

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Two of the most moving scenes for me in Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey had to do with… well… hold that thought.

First,

• a quick detour through a Greek word;

• some…

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I don’t know how to resolve all conflicts in relationships, but I do know a trick to at least give yourself a shot at it.

One of my favorite books is When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön.

In Chapter 21 she describes the human propensity to return over and over again to our same old patterns. We all develop these habits, these ways of trying to soothe ourselves (or, more likely, numb ourselves) in an attempt to deal with our sadness, loneliness, and fears.

When chaos or stress or anxieties or conflict arises, we each have our go-to moves, and usually these moves, these tactics, were developed early in our childhood as means to keep us safe. They “worked” insofar as we did, technically, survive. But now those same go-to maneuvers and habits hold us back. They work against us rather than work for us.

If you care at all about the quality of your life (and I hope you do), and if you care about the health of your relationships (and I hope you do) then we might now ask,

Okay so how do we break those cycles and habits and patterns?

To that end, one line in particular from Chapter 21 jumped out at me when I first read it twelve years ago. Its impact on my life was both immediate and profound.

Here’s the passage, and I’ve bolded the line I’m referring to.

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The notoriously wicked ancient ci…

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There are a handful of questions that pop up with a high degree of regularity when I travel.

One of the most frequently asked q…

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Ten Years Ago

Ten years ago I checked off a bucket list item: ✅ Publish Book.

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Consider this post my formal PSA.

(Alternatively, consider this…

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On Sunday, March 24th, 2019, I gave what I can now call the worst sermon I’ve ever delivered.

Not from a content or delivery perspective. But from a failure to read the room and using the pulpit to try and control a narrative. A crisis was brewing in our congregation and my frightened ego had more influence on what I preached that day than was wise.

It’s taken me years to fully digest what transpired, but now I think back on that morning with equal parts cringe, shame, and sadness.

So naturally, I want to write about it. Such is the blessing/curse of the writer/memoirist.

(I will say upfront that I’ve tried to make amends with the ones I hurt the most that morning. I don’t know if I’ve gotten to all of them, so in the event anyone ends up reading this who remembers that sermon, and remembers feeling not-okay with it, please know that I’m sorry. Your unease made and makes sense.)

The Situation Surrounding that Horrible Sermon

It’s hard to tell the story of that horrible sermon without giving a full picture of the context that led to it. And it’s hard to give the full context without telling stories that aren’t (exclusively or wholly) mine to tell. So forgive me if part of this feels unsatisfactory and/or vague. The story may only kind of make sense because you won’t be able to fully comprehend the context, but I think that’s okay. You’ll get it enough.

However, there is a risk when leaving some gaps unfilled. I’m opening myself up to you making certain assumptions or drawing conclusions that aren’t real or true. But in the name of privacy, those are risks I accept.

Okay enough throat clearing. Here’s what I’ll say regarding the events leading up to that absurd sermon I preached.

Five weeks prior to Sunday, March 24th, we had a disastrous Elder Board meeting involving emotional disruptions, deep disagreements, and hurt feelings.

All of which were made worse by my lack of leadership.

You see, at that point our church was about five years old and I was still serving as the Chair of the Board. It’s not uncommon in the church and in the non-profit world for the leader/president/pastor to also run the Board in the organization’s infancy, but I really should have transitioned out of that role by year five. Trying to run a Board, lead a church, and co-pastor with a spouse was a recipe for disaster.

And boy did disaster strike.

Many painful things resulted from the fallout of that tragic Board meeting, but germane to this article I’ll just say that the immediate impact was: a Board member resigned, multiple families left the church, and we lost some of my dearest and closest friends.

In fact, 2019 was such an awful year (because of the fallout) that personally, the pandemic isolation of 2020 was a welcome respite.

Details of that infamous Board meeting, and what led to the eruption and eventual exodus of key families and close friends, shall remain private. But I can tell you that I have many regrets about the choices I made during that time. Looking back I can see how some of my instincts and intentions were noble, but the impact of certain choices had devastating consequences. While trying to defend and protect someone I loved, I hurt and alienated other people I loved.

That makes me sound better than I was… so let me be clear: those efforts to “defend and protect someone I loved” were not executed perfectly by any means. I had a lot to learn about conflict resolution, power dynamics, communication, listening, boundary setting, and leadership. A bull may have the purest of intentions (oh look! he’s shopping for his mother! how sweet), and yet his clumsy and bulky frame is still the primary reason there is shattered china all over the shop’s floor.

Still Gotta Preach, Tho

Anyway, 2019 sucked rocks for me (and many others) in the church, but here is one of the many wonderfully bizarre (aka, ridiculously stressful) things about pastoral work. Every seven days you have to show up and do your thing regardless of life’s circumstances.

So in the spring of 2019, even though our church was on the verge of a split, I still had to write and deliver a sermon practically every Sunday morning.

As I see it, sermons should at the very least be an outflow of the heart and soul of the preacher. We spend hours during the week opening ourselves to what God would want to say through us, then we try and organize that in an interesting/compelling/engaging way so that we can eventually face one of humanity’s biggest fears (public speaking) and deliver what hopefully is a message inspired and sustained by the Spirit.

That’s the hope. The ideal.

But in reality, for many preachers, life and stress and chaos and constraints all conspire together to muck up that process. To interrupt or even corrupt the flow. Now yes, sometimes sermons are aided by the real-life intrusion of events and emotions. But other times a sermon suffers because too much of the preacher’s own crud blocks the flow of the Spirit.

And what I’m getting at is, on Sunday March 24th, 2019, the accumulating crud of navigating the chaos of friends and (chosen) family leaving the church over grievances that—in many ways—I agreed with yet couldn’t do anything about, absolutely impacted my sermon. Not in the good way.

Which helps to explain why I delivered a sermon in which:

• Fear was the primary author,

• My Ego was the leading character,

• I wrapped some otherwise-interesting nuggets of truth into a larger ball of trying to control the narrative,

• I wounded and alienated dear friends of mine, and

• It took me an embarrassingly long number of years to admit all of this.

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In short, I think t…

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Jesus’ Thoughts on Worship

Imagine if our worship was less focused on theological accuracy and more grounded in personal honesty?

What if the aim of worship had less to do with the rightness of our rel…

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No? That’s just me? (cue Ho…

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The first verse of the cherished hymn, Amazing Grace, ends with this proclamation:

I once was lost, but now I'm found;

‘Twas blind, but now I see

By pulling in the metaphor…

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