Yes, gay people can be celibate, and many are. Authors like Eve Tushnet (Gay and Catholic) and Wesley Hill (Washed and Waiting; Spiritual Friendship) have publicly committed themselves to celibacy, and there are organizations dedicated to helping gay Christians do just that.
However, not all gay Christians believe this is what God wants, and even for those who do, this isn’t the simple solution that it might seem.
Everyone, of course, has to abstain from sex sometimes. A single woman might be waiting on marriage for sex, for instance, or a married man might have to say no to sex with women who aren’t his wife.
But a lifelong commitment to celibacy means so much more than “no sex.” It also means giving up family, children, and the love and support of a spouse. It means going without romance. Without companionship. Without having that special person to sleep next to at night, come home to after a hard day at work, or hold hands while watching Netflix.
Is it possible? Sure. The Apostle Paul was famously called to celibacy, and he wrote about it as a high calling with tremendous value for Christians.
At the same time, Paul also admitted that not all Christians have the gift of celibacy, writing that “I wish that all of you were as I am. But each of you has your own gift from God; one has this gift, another has that” (1 Cor. 7:7 NIV).
Rather than insisting upon celibacy for all, then, Paul wrote that those who felt unable to handle singleness should marry, because “it is better to marry than to burn with passion” (1 Cor. 7:9).
For affirming Christians, the message is clear: Not everyone is called to celibacy, and it’s wrong for the church to force celibacy onto people who aren’t called to it. If they’re able to find a life companion, the church should support that.
For non-affirming Christians, though, this is a trickier question. If same-sex marriage is off the table, what happens when someone is only attracted to the same sex but doesn’t feel called to celibacy? For many gay Christians in this situation, the only solution seems to be accepting celibacy as an unchosen burden—their personal cross to carry. But it is, for many, a far more difficult burden than most people realize, especially without a lot of support.
This has left non-affirming churches struggling to figure out how to support these celibate gay Christians. Is there room for them to have some kind of non-sexual companionship that could alleviate this burden? If same-sex sex isn’t allowed, does that necessarily mean same-sex romance isn’t allowed? Without families, who cares for them as they get older if they are unable to care for themselves? Are there other ways their churches can help ease their burden?
Celibate gay Christian thinkers and organizations have been asking these questions, but often they are stigmatized by both sides.
As Christians, we must think through these questions carefully. Even when we disagree along the way, these are the sorts of questions that affect many people’s lives and demonstrate whether we are serious in our commitment to love one another.
