Ecclesial Homophobia, in the

Light of René Girard’s Theory of Mimesis

Introduction

The subject of homosexuality, for the Christian ecclesia, seems disproportionately emotive. Many Christians spend time and energy criticising, judging, prohibiting, warning and campaigning against equality for lesbians and gay men, same-sex marriage and other related issues, while increasing numbers of equally passionate Christians pursue debate for acceptance and equality for non-heterosexuals. The past four decades have produced a wealth of anthropological, psychological, medical and theological discussion attempting to prove or disprove homosexuality to be no less unnatural to the human condition than heterosexuality; the search for the ‘gay gene’ is ongoing and research continues to investigate the difference between invert homosexuality and environmentally nurtured homosexuality. Theologically, respected scholarship increasingly states that, Scripturally, homosexuality carries no more blanket condemnation than heterosexuality, rather, sober warnings against sexual misuse, abuse and idolatry; the work of Gareth Moore, Patricia Beattie Jung and James B. Nelson being good examples of this. [1] Growing theological opinion asserts that neither gender nor sexuality is fundamental to salvation in Christ. Nevertheless, acceptance or non-acceptance of homosexuality is a debate that, for the entire Christian Communion, is unlikely to find solution in the foreseeable future.         

The global Church of Jesus Christ has been commissioned with the task of bringing the gospel message to an unredeemed world. It is also called to be concerned with global matters of poverty, war, injustice, oppression and environmental issues; other ethical and moral topics have importance but are minor in comparison to these major concerns. Unfortunately, the subject of homosexuality appears at times to dominate the Christian arena, even playing a key role in the 2005 fracturing of the Anglican Church. Christians have, over the centuries, disagreed over points of Scripture and theological issues but, regarding homosexuality, little else ranges so poignantly from complete acceptance to absolute rejection and, on occasion, even obsessive hatred. Something deeper and more complex appears to be occurring than mere disagreement.

Roman Catholic and Anglican Churches present considered, official policy on homosexuality, as do many other churches, such as Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian. Not all begin from the same point; Roman Catholic teaching leans towards an understood ‘natural order’, some philosophical dialogue and reference to the Early Church Fathers, Anglicanism favours more directly Scriptural association, historical developments and social implications, while other denominations focus almost exclusively on Scripture. Some aspects are gracious, others are not; some ideas are presumptive, while others are not. The point being, there is no single specifically held Church teaching, thus it would be untrue to say that the Church in its entirety is or is not homophobic. However, fearful and occasionally hateful attitudes towards homosexuals exist in various Christian denominations and groups, hence my use of ‘ecclesia’ in preference to ‘the Church’ in this paper, denoting particular gatherings rather than a sweeping generalisation of the entire Christian Communion.

While many Christians favour moderate debate over the issue of homosexuality, uncomfortable questions arise when we sometimes see or hear other Christians in heated debate or seemingly going out of their way to declare anti-homosexual sentiments at public, religious or political events, television centres, cinemas, courts, even funerals. What compels them at times, personally or communally, to express an apparently all-consuming anxiety over this minority group is, at best, puzzling. At worst, it questions the place of the central qualities of the Christian faith, such as love and non-judgement. René Girard’s mimesis theory provides a possible explanation, shedding uncomfortable light where ecclesial homophobia is found.

By his own definition, Girard is not so much a theologian or anthropologist as a reader of texts. From decades of studying, analysing and generally steeping in world mythology, primitive ritual, ethnic rite and classical literature, Girard’s unique perspective has enabled him to piece together the common threads of human desire and their consequences, discovering them to be mimetic in nature, rather than linear as traditionally supposed. Girard says of desire, ‘What makes the object valuable is not its true price but the desires that are already focussed on it. Desire need not be pointed out to become visible. Mimetic desires hide their objects from us, since they themselves are hidden, but they cannot hide anything from each other. They seem to defy all the rules of probability by making people either too blind or too clairvoyant.’ [2] In short, a subject does not desire an object, or even desires to be the desire of the object, but rather, subjects desire according to the desires of others. Thus desire is triangular which, by its imitative nature, leads to conflict. Conflicts are resolved by a group’s unprompted configuration of unanimity against some randomly indicated other who is substituted for the crisis and excluded, expelled, or killed, producing in turn a restoration of peace and accord.

Girard is careful to explain that pure mimesis is not, in itself, negative or evil. It is neutral, the subconscious filter through which we learn to live

culturally: ‘The only culture really ours is not that into which we are born;

it is the culture whose models we imitate at the age when our power of mimetic assimilation is the greatest. If the desire of children were not mimetic, if they did not of necessity choose for models the human beings

who surround them, humanity would have neither language nor culture.

If desire were not mimetic, we would not be open to what is human or

what is divine.’ [3] Unfortunately, mimesis that bears the fruit of love, acceptance and appreciation of diversity, is the same mimesis that produces hatred, prejudice and rejection of what is different. Cyclical, generational and wholly subconscious, mimesis is dependent on the strengths, for good or ill, of one in authority – parent, teacher, spiritual leader etc – and the willingness, or vulnerability, of one mimetically desiring to learn to be like them.

Regarding homosexuality, it is worth mentioning that René Girard attempts to deal with ‘some forms of homosexuality’, in Book III, Chapter 3 of Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World. Unfortunately, his discussion is extremely brief and, perhaps due to its brevity, somewhat over-generalised, ‘What we call homosexuality is the total subordination of the sexual appetite to the effects of a mimetic game that concentrates all the subject’s powers of attention or absorption upon the individual who is responsible for the double bind – the model as rival, the rival as model.’ [4] He does not consider invert or genetic homosexuality and his proposal that, ‘All sexual rivalry is thus structurally homosexual’ does not seemingly encourage constructive dialogue in any direction. Therefore, while interesting in its context, this particular thread of Girard’s thought will not be pursued in conjunction with mimetic theory.

Girard understands the mimetic process to be the way in which humans create and uphold social order, pointing out that a social order basing its success upon cyclical expulsion depends entirely on the blindness of its citizens when driving out or killing a feared or suspected other. They must believe that the guilt of the one expelled is real, that the danger posed is significant, that the expulsion or, indeed, sacrifice, is utterly warranted in order to abate the crisis and restore harmony. The moment mimesis is dared to be seen for what it truly is, it begins to collapse and the true nature of the mechanism is revealed - that the victims were hated without cause. For Girard, specific divinely-inspired texts, in particular the dialogues and Passion of Jesus Christ in the Gospels, enable human beings to perceive, and thus begin to dismantle, this mechanism. In learning how to break free from the mimetic mechanism, humans can move away from structures built on the expulsion of victims and embrace a peace no longer reliant on sacrifice and murder.      

Of all his publications, it is Deceit, Desire and the Novel (pp.1-17) and Things Hidden since the Foundation of the World (pp.1-23) in which Girard best proposes and expounds his theory of mimesis. It should be noted that reception of his work has not been completely positive; mimetic theory remains theologically controversial and Girard is not without his critics. For example, Sarah Kofman and Nancy Jay regard Girard’s almost exclusive use of male victims to illustrate his theory as being indicative of misogyny on Girard’s part; [5] and Hans Urs von Balthasar criticises Girard for over-emphasising the social dynamic of the Crucifixion and neglecting both atonement and the justice of God. [6] Criticism acknowledged, one thing is transparent, as expressed by Michael Kirwan, ‘Whatever else one makes of Girard’s mimetic theory, there is no doubt that it has yielded, from Girard and others, readings of the Biblical texts of sometimes astonishing power and creativity.’ [7]

Girard suggests that victims of mimesis take various shapes and forms, ‘The victims can be those who limp, the disabled, the poor, the disadvantaged, individuals who are mentally retarded, and also great religious figures who are inspired, like Jesus or the Jewish prophets or

now, in our day, great artists or thinkers. All people have a tendency to reject, under some pretext or other, the individuals who don’t fit their conception of what is normal and acceptable.’ [8] Certainly, the mimetic mechanism is seen in the way in which homosexuals and homosexuality are regarded and treated by the ecclesia but, more importantly, the revelation that the mechanics of mimesis may be broken suggests a new paradigm with which all heterosexuals and non-heterosexuals within the ecclesia can find common ground; on which to move positively away from scapegoating each other and recognise they do not actually stand on opposing sides of an argument. Theological clarity and debate have their place in discussions concerning homosexuality, but it is in accepting the need to end the cycle of mutual scapegoating, that the ecclesia can progress towards a non-violent position of understanding and tolerance.

The following sections explore and comment on ecclesial homophobia as interpreted from the viewpoint of mimesis. Firstly, the mimetic mechanism is considered, focusing on the process of rivalry, collective violence and scapegoating and how the mechanism is revealed as false in the Gospel texts. Secondly, the mimetic process as expressed through homophobia and Scriptural interpretation is explored, with further reference to two positive Biblical responses. Thirdly, the breaking of the mimetic mechanism is considered in conjunction with how it may constructively serve to liberate the ecclesia and the victims of ecclesial homophobia.

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The Mechanism of Mimesis

As a reader of texts René Girard reveals myths to be the result of historical events, retold in such a way that the retelling has become fantastical while the core of the event remains intact. The event’s centre most often pertains to sacrificial crisis, that is, trials and tribulations visited upon a community, where blame for the crisis is laid upon an assumed ‘guilty party’ who is exiled or killed in order to restore harmony to the community. This scapegoating mechanism reveals the victim to be both the cause and solution to the problem, much like the pharmakos of ancient Greece, viewed as both the poison and the antidote, the sickness and the cure. [9] Girard presents the character of Oedipus from classic Greek literature as representative of this: ‘In the myth, the fearful transgression of a single individual is substituted for the universal onslaught of reciprocal violence. Oedipus is responsible for the ills that have befallen his people. He has become a prime example of the human scapegoat.’ [10]

The collective victim process provides a template for all scapegoats and the sacrifice they inevitably become in order to restore accord and maintain what is held to be sacred. In this sense, the sacred is what is understood to be right and appropriate for the community’s survival and prosperity. Were it merely a combination of the prosaic and the nonsensical, as has been generally envisioned since the Enlightenment and emphasised throughout the development of psychoanalysis, it would not have successfully sustained the phenomenal power it has held over humanity throughout the course of history. Girard says of the sacred, ‘Its power derives from what it has said in real terms to human beings concerning what must and must not be done in a given cultural context, in

order to preserve tolerable human relations within the community. . .’ He also points to the communal value of ousting for the sake of order, ‘The sacred is the sum of human assumptions resulting from collective transference as focussed on a reconciliatory victim at the conclusion of a mimetic crisis.’ [11]

Girard emphasises the force of intolerance arising from collective transference when examining the situation of innocent Job and the attitude of his friends: ‘Words, too, form a crowd; countless, they swirl about the head of the victim, gathering to deliver the coup de grace. The three series of speeches are like volleys of arrows aimed at the enemy of God. The accusations descend on Job like so many adversaries, intent upon the destruction of some friend. Their hostile speeches are not merely an image of collective violence, they are a form of active participation in it . . . The three friends crush him with their speeches, and pulverize him with their words.’ [12]

Perceived erosion of differences rallies a call for conformity and the reassurance of everyone being the same, as Girard states, ‘There is a fear of minimizing the importance of everything that tends toward division, alienation and conflict. If we give a leading role to imitation, perhaps we will make ourselves accomplices of the forces of subjugation and uniformity.’ [13] Superficially, community prides itself on individualism and the idea that each individual’s pursuit as a unique person in their own right strengthens and enhances society through its diversity. However, what is communicated, whether subliminally or highly consciously, is a demand to imitate the herd; that everyone should be like everybody else and not infringe upon the communal comfort zone.

Disproportionate assumptions tend to be made, positively or negatively about certain individuals or groups, that they have an underlying strength, purpose and organisation to affect community living. When viewed negatively, the very foundations of societal order may be perceived as under threat. Girard sums up this misperception, ‘Because the popular imagination tends to polarize its hopes and enthusiasms, and of course its fears and anxieties, around a chosen individual, the power of the individual in question seems to multiply infinitely, for good or ill. Such an individual does not represent the collectivity in an abstract manner, but rather represents the state of turmoil, restlessness, or calm of the collectivity at any given moment of representation.’ [14] The ability to recognise reality disappears and is replaced by the projection of communal insecurity and fear and onto a likely candidate.    

Far from looking at societal problems – Girard’s cultural eclipse - with honesty and integrity, what occurs is an emotive, knee-jerk reaction towards seeking out someone or some group at which to level blame while retaining an air of moral superiority and a sense of self-innocence. Girard refers to this reaction, commenting how, ‘Men feel powerless when confronted with the eclipse of culture; they are disconcerted by the immensity of the disaster but never look into the natural causes. Since cultural eclipse is above all a social crisis, there is a strong tendency to explain it by social and, especially, moral causes . . . . But, rather than blame themselves, people inevitably blame either society as a whole, which costs them nothing, or other people who seem particularly harmful for easily identifiable reasons.’ [15] Persecutors inevitably convince themselves that a particular group of people, or even a single individual, despite being relatively weak as a minority, is potent and extremely dangerous to society as a whole.

In Violence and the Sacred, Girard introduces the concept of the monstrous double: a hallucinatory phenomenon, whereby misperception of what is seen leads to action against the presumed image. He points to works such as The Bacchae, where the monstrous double is prevalent, with beasts mistaken for men or gods and vice versa; and similarly refers to Empedocles’ Purifications, where Agaue kills her son who has changed form, mistaking him for a lion. Girard asserts that the monstrous double occurs wherever an “I” and an “other” are entangled in a constant exchange of differences: ‘The subject watches the monstrosity that takes shape within him and outside him simultaneously. In his efforts to explain what is happening to him, he attributes the origin of the apparition to some exterior cause . . . The whole interpretation of the experience is dominated by the sense that the monster is alien to himself.’ [16]

Girard proposes that, ‘We must think of the monstrous as beginning with the lack of differentiation, with a process that, though it has no effect on reality, does affect the perception of it.’ [17] A distorted perception of an individual or a group of people enables and justifies a phobic response, effectively dehumanising without any need for fully rational thought. It seems a universal truth that the less rational the convictions of the persecutor the more redoubtable that conviction becomes, as Girard further comments, ‘Our medieval ancestors took the most incredible fables seriously – the poisoning of fountains by the Jews or by lepers, ritual infanticide, witches’ broomsticks, and moonlight diabolical orgies. The mixture of cruelty and credulity seems unsurpassable to us. And yet myths surpass them; historical persecutions are the result of degraded superstitions. We think we are free of mythical illusions because we have sworn not to be hoodwinked by them.’ [18] However, as Girard consistently emphasises, this mechanism remains as firmly in place today as it ever did, another set of myths merely replacing the former. Modern persecutors remain no less imprisoned by illusion than their medieval counterparts, positioning themselves in a place where presumed but false guilt of their victims is not simply a misplaced idea but a fully represented system.    

For the solution to the mimetic mechanism, René Girard points to the Gospels. He proposes that, through the dialogue and, in particular, the Passion of Jesus Christ, God’s absolute rejection of persecution is revealed. Jesus is presented as the supreme scapegoat, dedicated to exposing the false impressions of persecutors and revealing God as being and having always been a God of love, not of violence. Rather than encourage either the internal mimetic mechanism or the external conscious imitation of others and their desires, Jesus consistently encourages people to “imitate me” or “follow me,” inviting a rejection of mimetic power which inevitably leads to rivalry, violent contagion and scapegoating. In Christ there is no ego to pander to, only selfless love and unconditional dedication to do the will of God; thus to imitate Christ is to embrace the love and will of God, neither of which support or advocate collective violence.  

From Cain’s murder of Abel, Girard’s founding murder, through the jealous and violent treatment of Joseph, first by his brothers and then by Potiphar’s wife, to the killing of the Servant in Isaiah 53 and mistreatment or murder of the prophets, Girard points to the escalating pattern of violence against innocent victims throughout the Old Testament as something utterly condemned by Christ: “And that is why the Wisdom of God said, ‘I will send them prophets and apostles; some they will slaughter and persecute, so that this generation will have to answer for every prophet’s blood that has been shed since the foundation of the world, from the blood of Abel to the blood of Zechariah, who perished between the altar and the Temple.’ Yes, I tell you, this generation will have to answer for it all” (Lk 11:50-51; Mt 23:34). [19] According to Girard, Jesus accuses not only his hearers, the Pharisees, of their hypocrisy in building elegant tombs for the dead prophets, murdered by

their people, but condemns universally such actions by any and all human beings towards others. The Pharisees may believe in their own innocence and righteousness, but this is what reveals them to be no different to their predecessors; just as today with those who similarly assert a self-affirming moral position: ‘The children repeat the crimes of their fathers precisely because they believe they are morally superior to them. This false difference is already the mimetic illusion of modern individualism, which represents the greatest resistance to the mimetic truth that is re-enacted again and again in human relations. The paradox is that the resistance itself brings re-enactment.’ [20]

Jesus refers specifically at times to the mimetic process by using the language of ‘Scandal’ and, occasionally, ‘Satan’ (dealt with more fully in section 3), ‘Jesus adopts the language of his interrogators, the language of rivals in the casting out of demons, in order to reveal the system of violence and the sacred.’ [21] In this way, Jesus exposes the mimetic mechanism and begins to indicate how the scapegoating of innocent victims will ultimately be overthrown through his becoming the Scapegoat par excellence. Crucially, what Christ emphasises in his role of Scapegoat on behalf of all victims, is “They hated me for no reason” (Jn 15:25; cf Ps 35:19) and “These words of Scripture have to be fulfilled in me ‘He let himself be taken for a criminal’ ” (Lk 22:37 and Mk 15:28; cf Isa 53); Girard clarifies: ‘These sentences, which are apparently too trite to be taken seriously, express the denial of magic causality and stereotyped accusations. It is refusal of everything that is accepted blindly by persecuting crowds.’ [22] All that Christ says and does points towards the falseness of persecution, as Michael Kirwan notes, ‘Like the Suffering Servant of Isaiah . . . his innocence, his refusal to seek for vengeance – and above all the vindication of God (who asserts Jesus’ righteousness by raising him from the dead) combine to expose the truth of the persecution’ [23]

The Gospels expose the mimetic mechanism for what it truly is, an illusionary power that escalates towards murder but, ‘Far from taking the collective violence upon itself, the text places it squarely on those who are responsible for it.’ [24] What is revealed is how even the most adoring crowds who welcome Christ are swayed by mimetic mechanism into utterly rejecting him. ‘The Passion crowd accepts blindly the vague accusations made against Jesus. In their eyes Jesus becomes the cause that is susceptible to corrective intervention, the Crucifixion.’ [25] The crowd that crucifies Jesus is guilty, while he is entirely innocent, yet it is the Crucifixion through which Christ has the final word on the mechanics of mimesis and the contagion of collective violence: ‘He nails the accusation to the Cross, which is to say that he reveals its falsity. Though ordinarily the accusation nails the victim to a cross, here by contrast the accusation itself is nailed and publicly exhibited and exposed as a lie. The Cross enables the truth to triumph because the Gospels disclose the falseness of the accusation . . . The Cross of Christ restores all the victims of the single victim mechanism, whether it goes under the label of legal accusation, Satan, or principalities and powers.’ [26]

This is why Girard regards the Cross as a trap set by God himself to lure, expose and destroy the mimetic mechanism, that is, Satan. Had the Crucifixion been recognised for what it truly was, the exposure and destruction of the mimetic mechanism leading to scapegoating, it would never have been allowed: ‘[Had Satan, the rulers and powers of the age] foreseen that the crucifixion would deprive them of the powerful tool with which they had been operating all along, their first order of business would have been the protection of the scapegoating mechanism and they would have refrained from crucifying Jesus.’ [27]

 

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Ecclesial Homophobia as a Reflection of the Mimetic Mechanism

 

The Outworking of Ecclesial Homophobia

Homophobia is defined as an "Extreme and irrational fear of, aversion to, or discrimination against homosexuality or homosexuals" [28] Unlike sexual orientation, homophobia is contagious; commonly caught by children from adults and by the unquestioning from those in authority. Its spectrum ranges from mild distaste to violent rage and from publicised condemnation to obsession. At the heart of ecclesial homophobia lies the assumption that to be homosexual and/or to engage in homosexual behaviour is to be unnatural and wicked before God and thus worthy of absolute rejection, even death. Although defined as ‘irrational’ it is difficult to declare ecclesial homophobia irrational since, for many Christians, negativity towards gay men and lesbians is based on Scriptural understanding and/or Church tradition. It might be viewed as an unloving representation of Christian faith, even deeply flawed in its perception of what the Scriptures say, but it is not irrational.

In the light of René Girard’s mimesis theory and the Gospel revelation that through Jesus Christ the mimetic process may be abandoned, ecclesial homophobia reveals itself as paradoxical. While the Church in its entirety is, in effect, the ambassador of the Gospels - within which the mimetic mechanism is revealed as false – ecclesial homophobia rejects the truth presented by the Gospels in favour of remaining entangled in the mimetic process, actively participating in collective violence and scapegoating. Gospel truth is replaced by over-romantic ideals of what pertains to the will of God in order to support and maintain a distorted understanding of the sacred. Girard recognises this ability to misunderstand and misrepresent the Gospels, ‘The most terrible distortion of the Gospels is

our ability to project our own hypocrisy on them. In reality the Gospels never seek lame excuses; they never speak for the sake of speaking; sentimental verbiage has no place in them.’ [29]

Recent decades of excellent theological scholarship has provided a deepening understanding of translation and textual criticism, recognising advances in historical and cultural studies that consistently reveal a non-condemnatory reality of scriptural understanding of homosexuality in general. [30] Unfortunately, little impact seems to have been made upon the ecclesia where a literally understood Biblical text is maintained and tradition favoured over theological developments and cultural changes. Here, suspicions and accusations against groups and individuals tend to metamorphose, however illogically, into unassailable proof that homosexuals are guilty of heinous behaviour. Such corporate conviction can escalate to a point where violent thoughts, words and sometimes actions towards chosen victims are justified and even sacralised.

For most Christian denominations, homosexuality remains ‘officially’ unacceptable, with differing levels of homophobia expressed depending on the attitude and influence of priests, pastors and other leaders. For some, homophobia may be presented with shades of tolerance and welcome, but however dressed or disguised with divine language, at its core is fear of the erosion of differences and rejection based on a presumption of sinfulness and the belief that homosexuality is a chosen lifestyle, much the same way one might choose a pair of shoes; it is abhorrent to God and little more than a throw-back from original sin. James Alison relates his own experience of this attitude and for those Christians whose sexual orientation happens to be homosexual it is an all too familiar account:

I was told that my same-sex orientation was the fruit of original sin. The explanation was proffered as something which justified severe control and which seemed to call for drastic hatred of self in order to be good. But this too was puzzling: why was something which was held to have affected all people equally since Adam to be understood as justifying the massive “no” which Christian people spoke to the depths of my being, when it implied no comparable depth of “no” to the lives of my heterosexual contemporaries?’ [31]

Ecclesial hypocrisy is revealed as it vacillates between aspects of Biblical text, myth and tradition, depending on an understanding of self and the perception of those outside its sphere. To dehumanise the stranger requires little effort when behaviour may be stereotypically presumed and judged without understanding or known fact, as Girard notes: ‘Human behaviour is determined not by what really happened but by the interpretation of what happened. The double transference guides such an interpretation. It transforms the victim into something radically other than, and transcendent to, the community. The community belongs to the victim but the victim does not belong to the community.’ [32] Where a specific understanding (and thus an attitude based on that understanding) becomes ingrained over time, the machinery behind it disappears. No further thought is given to the reasoning behind its origin and development; it merely is, gaining the status of having always been so.

Most heterosexual Christians tend to perceive themselves as morally superior to gay men and lesbians, based on the belief that the Bible provides only three options for the expression of sexual intimacy: be heterosexual, be celibate or live in sin. [33] Once a Christian has delivered this information to a non-heterosexual, the task is effectively viewed as accomplished and it is now up to the recipient to embrace or reject this truth. Instilled and emphasised by those caught up in the mimetic process, absolute unacceptability of homosexuality is maintained as the only correct view and must therefore remain unquestioned. Borderlines between discrimination that has been rationalised and arbitrary persecution are, unfortunately, sometimes difficult to see and may disappear altogether when a viewpoint is mimetically carried through to its logical (or rather illogical) conclusion.

Taking the Anglican Church as a denominational example, its relatively recent battles over the question of homosexuality have magnified the issue for the wider Christian community. Stephen Bates’ excellent work, A Church At War, analyses the history, development and current attitudes within the Anglican Communion towards homosexuality that have shaped and, on occasion, fractured the denomination. Particular events, such as the 2002 installation of the theological scholar and gay-accepting Rowan Williams as Archbishop of Canterbury and the 2003 establishment of openly gay Gene Robinson as Episcopalian Bishop of New Hampshire in the United States, have produced both positive and negative debate. What seems clear from Bates’ investigation into the Anglican Church is that, where grace and love fail to unite, mutual homophobia succeeds.

The key point of difficulty for Anglican Conservative Evangelicals is summed up well by Roy Clements in an interview with Bates:

Evangelicals have not absorbed the idea that homosexuality is an identity, not a practise. They believe it is a sin, just as murder. There is no doubt that they are out of touch with modern British culture. They are in their

own backwater and they interpret that as being in a counter-culture with the world. [34]

Stephen Bates’ work as a whole proposes that the issue within the Anglican Church is not Scriptural but political. Conservative evangelicals want to govern the constitutions of the church, all its boards and councils in order to run the entire church and ensure their view is dominant. The vast majority of Church of England members prefer moderation and respect across the church without resorting to bullying tactics. However, some evangelical parishes go so far as to threaten to withhold funds if their views are not held, although this is a questionable way to promote their position. They may have learned from cultural mistakes made during missionary work, to respect other cultures and societal differences, but in speaking out on the issue of homosexuality it more often than not carries an underlying threat.  

Where concessions have been made by the Anglican Church and other denominations, the tendency remains to favour either the somewhat

patronising ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ or the duplicitous ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’ Neither stance deals with the central issue of understanding correctly what the Bible does and does not teach about homosexuality, nor questions what actually constitutes sin. A genuine attempt to grasp the difference between sexual misuse, abuse or promiscuity and faithful, committed same-sex partnerships is sadly lacking and consideration of whether the latter might actually not only be acceptable before God, but sacramental, is rarely broached. In real terms, the single positive position offered by ecclesial homophobia is one of open acceptance of gay men and lesbians only if they remain single and celibate.

Sadly, this is comparable to responding to the risen Lazarus in a way totally opposite to the command of Christ. As recorded in John’s Gospel (Jn 11:1-44), upon raising his friend from death, Jesus calls Lazarus out from his tomb. ‘The dead man came out, his feet and hands bound with strips of material, and a cloth over his face. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, let him go free” ’ (v.44). The ecclesial response towards Christian gay men and lesbians tends to be one of accepting Christ calls them from death (as with any true conversion experience from non-Christian to Christian), but utterly disagreeing with him over unbinding them and letting them go free. In reality, the ecclesia would prefer them to remain ensconced in the tomb, shackled, unseen and silent. Attempts to rise above this attitude risks ‘punishment’ in some form or other that, in Girard’s opinion, may in turn spill over into the larger community, ‘The transgression of religious prohibitions does in fact increase the risk of renewing the cycle of mimetic rivalry and vengeance. Religious systems form a whole in this sense, such that the infraction of any particular rule, no matter how absurd it may seem objectively, constitutes a challenge to the entire community.’ [35]

Perhaps the most successful attribute of the mimetic mechanism expressed through ecclesial homophobia has been to convince gay Christians themselves that self-hatred is a necessary Christian attribute. The Danish philosopher and theologian, Søren Kierkegaard, points out in Works of Love how no violent assaulter can ever murder an immortal spirit; spiritually, the only possible death is suicide. Consequently, when the homophobic Christian voice tirelessly pronounces “God hates you,” “Whoever told you God loves you is wrong - that’s just the devil’s lie,” and so forth, gay and lesbian Christians stand or fall on spiritual self-defence. When failure is at the fore, it is not necessarily due to persecutors winning against those who dare to proclaim God’s redeeming power and unconditional love regardless of sexual orientation, but because those who are Christian and gay have given up and surrendered, losing faith in the grace and strength of Christ in favour of the mimetic desires and opinions of homophobic brethren. Here, the sentiments and actions of the mob need go no further than merely being known; scapegoating is effectively undertaken on their behalf by the victim.    

From a distorted view that heterosexuality is of God while homosexuality is not – thus it is not heterosexuals who must change their homophobia, but homosexuals who need to change their sexual orientation - has grown the supposition in some corners of the Christian community that, with enough faith, God can make a homosexual or lesbian ‘ex-gay’. This is misdirection and one that is perfectly without ecclesial responsibility: when healing does not happen, it is not that the process has failed, nor is it because homosexuality is as natural a state as heterosexuality and therefore not changeable, but rather it is the lack of faith of the subject.

Across the western world, though predominantly in the United States,

groups offering so called ‘reparative therapy’, such as Exodus or the 700 Club, regularly provide testimonials from ‘ex-gay’ men and women to support claims that thousands of homosexuals have experienced realignment of their sexual orientation. They maintain that gay men and lesbians who undertake reparative therapy through their counselling centres and telephone support lines find complete healing from homosexuality and are able to embrace God-given heterosexuality. However, authentic follow-up records are significantly lacking and serious studies appear non-existent.

American pastor and theologian, Dr Mel White, who himself attended ‘ex-gay’ ministries for over twenty-five years, comments on such therapies, ‘There is no evidence that “reparative therapy” has permanent success in the lives of most of those who claim a cure, and weeks, months, or years later most realise the temporary nature of that “cure”.’ He concludes, ‘But most gay men and lesbian women who survive the terrible, wasted years of “ex-gay” repression and denial eventually have to make a decision. Will they finally accept their sexual orientation as another of God’s gifts and go on to live responsible gay or lesbian lives, or will they go on struggling against this gift forever?’ [36]  

‘Ex-gay’ ministries remain an influential weapon in the mimetic armoury of the Christian Right, despite its false claims being outweighed by a growing tide of medical and psychological evidence for the natural and permanent state of invert homosexuality. Many conservative Christians maintain that homosexuality is a ‘lifestyle’, comparable to a fashion accessory, and therefore something that can be discarded with faith and some effort. Pastor and journalist, Candace Chellew-Hodge, refers to this assumption and wryly comments, ‘I’ll be happy to change my “lifestyle” if [conservative Christians] would be so kind as to contribute a few thousand dollars. After all, my lifestyle is a reflection of my income, not my sexual orientation, and if they’re so concerned about it, they are welcome to contribute to the cause.’ [37]        

Ecclesial homophobia is a mimetically uniting influence, as Girard clarifies, ‘The best way to make friends in a hostile world is to espouse the enmities and adopt the others’ enemies. What is said to these others, on such occasion, varies very little: “We are all of the same clan, we form one and the same group inasmuch as we have the same scapegoat.”’ [38] Unsurprisingly, we occasionally find the most stringent anti-gay Christians are in fact closeted homosexuals, with the truth only coming to light via the gleefully vicious gossip of the ‘gutter press.’ We might question why some homosexuals - most often religious leaders - find it necessary to hide behind a presented face of heterosexuality and homophobic vitriol, but the answer is quite simple, ‘The best way not to be crucified, in the final analysis, is to do as everyone else and join in the crucifixion.’ [39]  

 

Ecclesial Homophobia and Scripture

Human beings have a tendency to become obsessed with what is repressed. Cultural and ecclesial opinion has historically been sexually repressive, thus if homosexuals and homosexuality have been repressed, then they are also likely to be obsessed over. A substantial section of the ecclesia, blinded by the mechanics of mimesis, scapegoats gay men and lesbians to the point of obsession, sadly missing the point established by Jesus in the Gospels, that it hates without cause; effectively unable to accept the command to love God with wholeness of heart, mind and strength, and love neighbour as self. Swept up in the mimetic mechanism, ecclesial homophobia hides behind selectively chosen, and literally understood, Biblical texts convinced that its rejection and expulsion of homosexuals based on them is justified and even sanctified. The following is a brief overview of these particular passages of Scripture.

 

Genesis 19:1-25

Some Christians equate the sin of Sodom with homosexuality, proclaiming that God destroyed the ancient cities of Sodom and Gomorrah because of same-sex behaviour. However, several clear observations can be made. Firstly, the destruction of these two ancient cities was planned before the alleged homosexual incident took place, as Abraham learns from the visiting angels. We are further told that all the men of the city participated in the assault on Lot’s home, yet in no culture has more than a minority (some 10-12%) of the population been recorded as homosexual. Lot’s offer of his daughters implies that he knew his neighbours were generally heterosexual; and the sexual issue itself concerns violent physical abuse in the form of attempted gang rape, not consenting or committed relations. Finally, if Sodom was destroyed over sexual immorality, it seems odd that God spare Lot, who later commits incest with his daughters. Perhaps most importantly, no other passage of Scripture referring to this account mentions homosexuality.

Isaiah speaks of the desolation of Sodom following its destruction (Isa 1:9). In Ezekiel, God declares that Sodom was overfed and arrogant, nobody in the city helped anyone and they worshipped idols (Ezek 16:48 – 50), revealing precisely who the oppressed were and why their ‘outcry’ was made to God for justice, as referred to in Gen 18:20-21. Ultimately, Jesus confirms that Sodom was guilty of the abuse of strangers and an utter disregard for hospitality (Lk 10:10-12). Jude (Jd 7) does refer to sexual immorality, pointing out that the people of Sodom and Gomorrah “…went after strange [or alien] flesh”, referring not to other men but the angels visiting Lot.

Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13

“You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination.” Occurring in the Holiness Code, a manual listing rituals for Israel’s priests, its meaning can only be fully appreciated in the historical and cultural context of the Hebrew people.

Toevah, meaning something that is ritually unfaithful and therefore taboo, has everything to do with idolatry and unfaithfulness to YHWH, via engaging with the Qidesh or ‘holy ones’ (male or female temple prostitutes) as cited by the Deuteronomic author (Deut 23:18-19). It has little to do with the poorly translated ‘abomination’ that is so emotive in the modern sense of the word. However, ‘abomination’, in the sense of all things heinous, shocking and wicked, is projected as God’s comment on the matter. Other things deemed ritually unfaithful in the Holiness Code, again ‘abomination’, such as eating seafood, wearing mixed fibres and growing different crops in the same field have been dismissed over the years as totally irrelevant.

If the Levitical Holiness Code is important for Christian faith, then the whole of it should be regarded as such. If it is regarded as irrelevant today, then the whole of it should be dismissed. Such selectivity over single verses not only makes nonsense of the rich cultural and historical context of Leviticus but is stark reflection of how easily the beauty of the Old Testament may be twisted and the Gospel message negated.

 

Romans 1:24-27

Here, Paul mentions certain homosexual behaviour as an example of the “uncleanness” of idolatrous Gentiles, in the context of a larger argument on the need of all people for the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is unlikely to be a reference to all homosexual acts but rather to specific behaviour known to Paul and his readers of that time. The letter to the Roman church was written to Jewish and Gentile Christians who would have been familiar with the overindulgences and sexual excesses of their contemporaries, particularly the Roman emperors and their supporting subjects. They would also have been aware of tensions in the early church regarding Gentiles and observance of the Jewish laws, as noted in Acts 15 and Paul’s letter to the Galatians, regarding same-sex acts in the context of idolatry.

Significant to Paul’s discussion is that these “unclean” Gentiles exchanged what was “natural” for them (physin) for what was “unnatural” (para physin). In Rom 11:24, God acts in an “unnatural” way (para physin) to accept the Gentiles after centuries of choosing only the Jews. “Unnatural” in these passages does not refer to a violation of a so called ‘natural order’, but rather implies actions contradicting usual or expected character. Therefore, while it may be fair to observe that it is a contradiction for a heterosexual to live as a homosexual, in exactly the same way it is a contradiction for a homosexual or lesbian to live as a heterosexual.            

The same-sex practices cited in Romans 1:24-27 were believed by Paul to result from idolatry and are associated with some very serious offences previously noted (Rom1:18-23). What Paul is revealing is the danger of putting the created before the Creator; of indulging in idolatrous same-sex acts rather than being passionate for a holy God and living morally, in accordance with the sexual orientation God has created in each individual. This argument is emphasised when Paul criticises the Gentiles for their lack of wisdom in seeing God in the whole of creation, but choosing instead to worship images of humans, birds and snakes. Consequently, “they received in themselves the due penalty for their error” (Rom 1:27). In other words Paul is saying that, as well as committing sin, the Gentiles are also soiled - their culture is filled with unclean practices because of their idolatry. They knew God but they did not worship God; sin and impurities alike flourish amongst the Gentiles.    

In its larger context, it seems clear that the acts referred to here are significantly different from loving, committed, responsible lesbian and gay relationships, seen at the time of Paul or today.

 

1 Corinthians 6:9 and 1 Timothy 1:10

In 1 Corinthians 6:9 Paul condemns those who are “morally weak” and “abusers of themselves with mankind.” Some translations adversely render these words “effeminate” and “homosexuals” or “homosexual offenders”, which is poor translation in the extreme, making nonsense of what Paul is talking about. The first word, ‘malakoi’ in the Greek text, concerns someone who lacks discipline or moral control; they are morally soft or unrestrained. The word is used elsewhere in the New Testament and never with reference to sexuality, as in Matthew 11:8 where it refers

to (soft) clothing; it can also be found in reference to ‘soft’ or ‘warm’ butter in other Greek literature of the period. The second word, ‘arsenokoitai’ occurs once both in 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy, but almost nowhere else in other literature of the period. It comes from the compounding of two words: ‘arseno’, meaning ‘men’ or ‘male humans’ and ‘koitai’ which comes from ‘bedroom’ or ‘bed’ and euphemistically implies ‘having sex’ with or, more precisely, ‘actively penetrating’ someone; the phrase is, quite literally, ‘man-lyer’, or more graphically, ‘man-penetrator.’ [40]

However, the meaning of this compounded word is obscure. Does ‘man’ refer to the sexual agent or the object of the sexual act? In other words, does arsenokoitai mean a man who has sex with others, or does it specifically mean a man who has sex with men? From the words themselves, we cannot be certain which of these meanings, or any other meaning for that matter, is intended. Language is not always logical. In English, the phrase “out of sight, out of mind” might be literally translated elsewhere as “invisible idiot”, despite being culturally understood as something not within view being something not longed for.

While scholars tend to differ on the full meaning of Paul’s use of ‘malakoi’ and ‘arsenokoitai’, they generally agree that Paul is speaking about a form of prostitution; either relating to paid-for pleasure, or for self gain as in the cultivation of the elderly in order to inherit their estates. The Roman poet and satirist Juvenal makes fun of exactly this kind of (heterosexual) affair. Some scholars take Paul’s meaning to be a reference to child abuse, with a much older man taking advantage of the innocence of a very young boy or girl; which would make greater sense of why “kidnappers” is included in the abuses noted in 1 Timothy (1:9-10); concerning attractive girls and boys being kidnapped and sold into sexual slavery.  

In both 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy arsenokoitai occurs in a list of ‘sinners who’ will not inherit the Kingdom of God. However, the Kingdom of God is simply not a Pauline theme. Most likely, Paul is merely listing the acknowledged evils of the day. He is not particularly concerned with any individual item and neither writes at length about, nor returns to, a single one of them. He encourages his readers to be good people and avoid the widely accepted wrongs generally decried in society at that time, listing them in much in the same way we might list drug abuse, knife crime, mugging the elderly and child abuse as a modern list of widely accepted wrongs. Paul’s condemnation here is not of same-sex acts in general but of wanton, abusive, exploitative sex.

Moving on from these passages, specifically used to justify negativity towards gay men and lesbians, in the context of mimesis it is worthwhile referencing two other Biblical passages that reveal a dynamically positive treatment received by those religiously, socially and sexually outcast at that time. One account is that of the Centurion and the healing of his highly favoured slave (Mt 8:5-13; Lk 7:1-10), the other concerns Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8:26-39).  

With the account of the Centurion and his slave, the context and language used are crucial. Traditionally, the important elements clarified are the racial tension being overcome between a Jew and a representative of the occupying force of Rome, and the Centurion’s faith, for which Jesus praises this particular Gentile. However, such a rendering misses the central significance that this Roman’s ‘boy’ (pais in Mt 8: 6), a slave who is highly ‘favoured’ or ‘honoured’ (entimos in Lk 7:2), is irrefutably the Centurion’s male lover whom Jesus heals without question, refusal or condition. Linguists, K.J. Dover and Bernard Sergent, confirm in their respective works that three possible understandings of pais existed at the time of Christ, each dependent on the context in which it was used; these were ‘son or boy’, ‘slave’, or a slave who was specifically ‘his master’s male lover.’ [41] A slave for sexual service would often be younger than their master, even a teenager, although it should be remembered that within cultural norms of the day and under the law, marital age was reached at fourteen or fifteen and young spouses were often married to much older partners. [42] As with servants in general, male spouses were procured through commercial transaction and a male lover in this context would be a pais.

Luke informs his readers that the Centurion’s ailing pais was his entimos duolos, his highly honoured or favoured slave. The generic duolos was never used in ancient Greek to denote a son or boy, thus discarding the possibility that the one sick was actually the Centurion’s son and confirming him to be a slave. However, in conjunction with pais, the only feasible understanding is that he was his master’s male lover. In Matthew’s account, the Centurion clearly speaks in general terms when expressing his faith in Jesus to simply command a healing to occur, “When I tell my slave to do something, he does it.” Here, the Centurion uses duolos, but when speaking of the one he asks Jesus to heal he uses only pais, drawing an unmistakable distinction.          

A final note is merely circumstantial, but nevertheless culturally and contextually significant. Historically, slaves were generally little more than material goods, denoting the wealth and affluence of their masters; if one became too sick to work or died, he or she was simply replaced. This is the only account of someone seeking out Jesus to heal a slave and, significantly, the Centurion does not command someone to undertake the task on his behalf but sees to it personally. The implication is that, despite the brutal reality of a Roman ‘throw away’ society, the

Centurion cares passionately about his highly favoured slave, wanting him whole and well; he is irreplaceable because he is loved.

The account of the Ethiopian eunuch challenges assumptions and misconceptions borne of the mechanics of mimesis. In Acts, euonuchos means literally “keeper or guardian of the couch” and referred to those in positions of absolute trust within wealthy households and royal courts, because eunuchs protected and served the women in those places. Due to their intimate access to the courts and positions of trust it was not uncommon for eunuchs to rise to senior governmental appointments; this particular eunuch is described as Treasurer to the Kandake, or Queen, of Ethiopia (Acts 8:27).

Eunuchs had to be men who could be trusted not to desire or have affairs with the women in the household they served, since to do so would confuse inheritance rights or even damage a royal bloodline. Consequently, only men totally disinterested in women were permitted to serve as eunuchs. Traditionally, eunuchs have been regarded as castrated men, being preventing from reproducing. However, it would be historically inaccurate to suppose eunuchs were only ever castrated heterosexual males. Faris Malik and Johanes Schneider, in their respective works, point out that ancient literature differentiated between types of eunuch: ‘man-made eunuchs’, being those castrated and ‘natural’ or ‘born’ eunuchs meaning those desiring other men. [43] Interestingly, this is entirely in-keeping with comments Jesus makes: “It is not everyone who can accept what I have said, but only those to whom it is granted. There are eunuchs born so from their mother’s womb, there are eunuchs made so by human agency and there are eunuchs that have made themselves so for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven” (Mt 19:11-12).      

Despite their high positions of trust, eunuchs were nevertheless regarded as the religious and social outcasts of the day, particularly in Jewish religious society. Rabbi Eliezer purports the possibility of ‘curing’ eunuchs, which would make no sense if referring to men with genital defects. [44] In the same Talmud, other rabbis debate the characteristics of natural eunuchs that identified them as different from other men, including lateness of pubic hair, lack of a beard, smoothness of skin and a high voice. [45] Negative assumptions were not confined to Jewish thought: The Greek satirist, Lucian, likens a eunuch with a concubine to a deaf man with a flute, a bald man with a comb and a blind man with a mirror. [46] Similarly, the Roman playwright, Juvenal, speaks of the difficulty in holding back his satirical humour, ‘when a soft eunuch takes to matrimony.’ [47] Evidently, stereotyping gay men was no less common in the ancient world than today and against this backdrop it should be unquestionable that, upon the Ethiopian eunuch’s introduction to Philip, the Apostle knew immediately that this man belonged to a class strongly associated with homosexual desire.

The Acts 8 account informs us that the Ethiopian eunuch was returning home from having been worshipping in Jerusalem. Philip finds him

resting in his chariot and reading from Isaiah 53, in which the prophet relates the suffering of God’s chosen servant to the point of being “despised and rejected” (v.3) and, “oppressed and afflicted” (v.7). As Jeff Miner and John Tyler Connoley astutely note, ‘It seems like a strange passage for someone to read just after worshipping in Jerusalem, the holy city. But it makes sense when we understand that the Ethiopian eunuch probably found himself despised and rejected by the religious leaders in Jerusalem.’ [48]

Deuteronomy 23:1 had ensured that “No one whose testicles are crushed or whose penis is cut off shall be admitted to the assembly of the LORD.” By the first century, this had been expanded to include anyone unable to father children, either due to genital defect or due to what is today termed sexual orientation. The Ethiopian eunuch would have been unacceptable as a proselyte and unlikely to have been allowed even as far as the temple’s outer courts by the religious leaders. Eunuchs were the sexual scapegoats of the day, suspect, outcast and religiously rejected; Isaiah 56 had yet to have any impact over the passage in Deuteronomy, despite the promises of God to eunuchs found therein: “To the eunuchs who observe my Sabbaths and choose to do my good pleasure and cling to my covenant, I shall give them in my house and within my walls a monument and a name better than sons and daughters; I shall give them an everlasting name that will never be effaced.” (Isa 56:4-5).

Philip, upon the eunuch’s request, explains Isaiah 53 in the context of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, but it is Philip’s reaction to this man, upon his request for baptism that is significant in the extreme. He says simply, “If you believe with all your heart, you may” (Acts 8:37). He does not refuse or refer to Deut 23:1; he does not question the man’s sexual orientation and demand a promise of celibacy or suggest that if he wants to follow Christ he must embrace heterosexuality; Philip simply baptises him. Certainly, we cannot know what ‘type’ of eunuch the Ethiopian actually was, but Philip’s response reveals that the man’s sexual orientation was irrelevant to his receiving Christ. Had there been a solid

Scriptural basis for denying the eunuch, because of the real possibility that he might be homosexual, then we may be certain that Philip, as a man of God responding to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, would have pursued the matter.

The account of the Roman Centurion and that of the Ethiopian eunuch confirm one simple and stable fact. It is not Scripture that prevents the ecclesia from accepting their lesbian and gay brethren. It is prejudice, a fear of what is ‘other’ and a homophobic response borne of the mimetic mechanism. Jesus restores a homosexual relationship by healing the male slave and partner of a Roman soldier, pronouncing the Roman to be an example of faith for all to follow. Not for a moment does he suggest the slave’s illness to be God’s punishment for a ‘sinful lifestyle’, nor does he refuse to heal the slave thus enabling an ‘abominable relationship’ to continue. Philip welcomes a eunuch into the early church through baptism, without question or hesitation over the man’s sexual orientation, despite the day’s climate of suspicion and rejection. It takes little imagination to consider what the reaction might be today, were a conservative Christian leader approached for healing or baptism in a similar context to these two Biblical accounts.

Where Scripture deals with committed, loving same-sex relationships, they are affirmed, as with David and Jonathan, the Centurion and his slave and, arguably, Ruth and Naomi. [49] Contrastingly, Biblical passages used to condemn and reject same-sex relations are set firmly in the context of sexual behaviour that is abusive, promiscuous or idolatrous. Ignoring the former, the ecclesia latches onto the latter, establishing it as irrefutable Biblical truth, thus completing the mimetic illusion of their order and control being justified by God. Homophobia finds no

justification in Scriptural truth; it is rooted and grounded in the mechanics of mimesis, protecting those who would advocate the security of sameness while scapegoating those perceived as other, alien, and therefore dangerous.

Sociologists remind us that power always seeks to disguise itself behind religious trappings and that we are naïve to take such trappings seriously, being that whatever religious rite may be created to justify the violence, it remains, nonetheless, an illusion. Unfortunately, illusion though it is, it presents itself as convincingly solid and its followers as pathologically loyal, as James Alison recognises: ‘Pathological loyalty, we all know it: the inability, or the unwillingness to distinguish between the violent sacred of the ecclesiastical institution and the revelation of the love of God, and the consequent suppression of the latter in favour of the former.’ [50]

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Breaking the Mimetic Mechanism

The concept of ‘coming out,’ traditionally referring to young men or women being presented to society, and strongly associated in recent decades with gay men and lesbians publicly confirming their sexual orientation, has so extensively captured the popular imagination that, today, it is part of mainstream dialogue, referring to almost any situation where someone takes a personal stand on an issue and publicly declares their association or solidarity with a position viewed as unpopular. Coming out suggests a change from some truth previously hidden behind closed doors to a truth openly declared. However, the process of coming out implies a far more radical transformation taking place, with consequences reaching further than might initially be considered, as James Alison comments, ‘Wherever a coming out story is real, it also includes what I would call a penitential element: how I was a coward and failed to stand up for my brothers when the heat was on, but am now being given the grace to stand up and risk the opprobrium . . . The real drama of the coming-out experience is precisely that it is the beginning of a taking of positions in the midst of something like a lynch mob.’ [51]

A radical coming out from the mechanics of mimesis enables homophobia to be exposed for the destructive yet illusionary force it is. A coming out from subconsciously accepted collective violence and consequent scapegoating encourages dialogue, healing and reconciliation to take place. Using the term ‘coming out’ in this context may carry irony but it appropriately implies that the power of homophobia makes victims of everyone, including those persecutors trapped within the promulgation of mimetic cyclical violence. René Girard explains, most fully in his works, The Scapegoat and I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, how the mechanism

of mimesis is revealed and what enables a coming out from its seemingly immovable grip.

According to Girard, the Gospel accounts of the dialogues, actions and, in particular, the Passion of Jesus Christ, expose a twofold truth concerning the human condition. Firstly, that mimetic desire is entrenched within the human state, leading to rivalry, collective violence and scapegoating, and secondly, the defeat of mimesis is achieved through the Crucifixion and Resurrection. From the teaching and salvific work of Jesus Christ, we can learn to overcome the negative aspects of mimesis and thus dispel the false necessity to make scapegoats of anyone. Significantly for ecclesial homophobia, the implication is that, in recognising the controlling mechanics of mimesis and so disarming them, false assumptions and prejudices held against gay men and lesbians may be seen for what they are and abandoned.

Girard proposes that, through Christ comes the revelation that, once the basic mimetic mechanism and the scapegoating process are revealed, expulsion of violence by violence is rendered useless: ‘The good news is that scapegoats can no longer save men, the persecutors’ accounts of their persecutions are no longer valid, and truth shines into dark places. God is not violent, the true God has nothing to do with violence, and he speaks to us not through distant intermediaries but directly. The Son he sends is one with him. The Kingdom of God is at hand.’ [52] We might ask, if the Jesus of the Gospels reveals the mechanism of mimesis and its consequences, why are we not warned against it? Girard’s point is that we are most definitely warned by Christ, but do not recognise it, choosing instead to ignore his warnings.

Girard declares that the Gospel writers use the language of demonic activity and exorcism when referring to the cycle of mimesis, while scandal is what Christ uses, ‘Like the Hebrew word that it translates,

“scandal” means, not one of those ordinary obstacles that we avoid easily after we run into it the first time, but a paradoxical obstacle that is almost impossible to avoid: the more this obstacle, or scandal, repels us, the more it attracts us.’ [53] As for Christ himself, Alison declares, ‘Jesus was not scandalised by the world of the righteous. He understood its dangerousness well enough to be able to side-step its attempts to lynch him until his hour had come.’ [54] Girard focuses on those Jesus most severely criticises for purposely spreading mimetic contagion, as in Matthew 18:7, regarding those causing innocents to sin, “Woe to the one by whom the scandal comes!” Girard clarifies, ‘Jesus reserves his most solemn warning for the adults who seduce children into the infernal prison of scandal. The more the imitation is innocent and trusting, the more the one who imitates is easily scandalised, and the more the seducer is guilty of abusing this innocence.’ [55]

Those who mimetically convince the young and easily influenced that hatred, prejudice and collective violence towards those different or other is right, ignore the God who denounces violence. The implication for ecclesial homophobia is that, only in recognising the falsity of the mimetic process can homophobia be overcome and its outworking conquered. By accepting Christ’s invitation to model life and attitude on himself and God, the truth of mimesis and thus liberation from it as provided through Christ’s Passion, will be revealed; as Girard reminds us, ‘Why does Jesus regard the Father and himself as the best model for all humans? Because neither the Father nor the Son desires greedily, egotistically . . . If we imitate the detached generosity of God, then the trap of mimetic rivalries will never close over us.’ [56] Ecclesial homophobia has nothing to do with the detached generosity of God, being an appended selfishness projected by those being controlled by a perceived necessity for sameness within absolute order.

The mimetic process and the power it exercises over human culture may be known by many names; in the Gospels, says Girard, it is named ‘Satan.’ Whether we accept the Gospel writers’ Satan as a fallen angel, a supernatural evil opposed to God, or as a controlling, destructive force bringing about victimisation, the outcome for the purposes of what Girard describes, is the same. His point becomes clear when he speaks of the religious leaders accusing Jesus of driving out demons by the power of Satan (Mk 3:26), providing the opportunity for Jesus to reveal the mimetic mechanism at work and how it distorts the perception of reality: ‘Jesus wants to make his hearers reflect on its implications. If it is true that Satan expels Satan, how does he go about it? How is this tour de force possible? Jesus does not deny the reality of Satan’s self-expulsion; he asserts it.’ [57] Christ debates his own actions in the only terms his interlocutors understand - those of expulsion and violence. Satan’s destructive force acts powerfully within human culture in an endless, cyclical activity, with human consent. However, it finds no support in the Gospels, as Alison notes, ‘In the logic of the Gospels, the language of the demonic and of exorcism has quite a different function: it points to the Creator peacefully calling to life those whose being has been trapped by the violence of cultural belonging.’ [58]  

The on-going ‘trick’ performed by Satan, is in allowing destruction to go so far but always stopping short of oblivion. Girard observes, ‘If he were purely a destroyer, Satan would have lost his domain long ago. To understand why he is the master of all the kingdoms of this world, we

must take Jesus at his word: disorder expels disorder, or in other words, Satan really expels Satan. By executing this extraordinary feat, he has been able to make himself indispensable, and so his power remains great.’ [59] Satan expels Satan through the use of innocent victims successfully condemned. Mimesis is thus never creative; it is parasitical, surviving on what God has created and is itself imitative. This is why Girard refers to Satan as the ape of God, mimicking God in a way totally opposite to the loving obedience of the Son’s imitation of the Father. Satan’s imitation of God is grotesque, distorted, jealous, and encourages others to imitate likewise; hence it can only ever be destructive.  

In revealing the mimetic process and the cyclical way in which it works, the Gospels provide the only textual mechanism that can bring an end to humanity’s imprisonment in the system of collective-violence and scapegoating based upon a false but unanimous verdict of guilt. Ultimately, ‘Jesus brings war into the divided world of Satan because, fundamentally, he brings peace.’ [60] And it is this, Girard asserts, that leads to the Cross; mob rule, driven by violent contagion, ensures the death of Christ, ‘The Passion crowd . . . accepts blindly the vague accusations made against Jesus. In their eyes Jesus becomes the cause that is susceptible to corrective intervention, the Crucifixion.’ [61] Yet, in being crucified, Jesus becomes the supreme scapegoat, the Victim of victims, and the one true judge over all judgements rooted in the mechanics of mimesis. Furthermore, the Resurrection is God’s ultimate comment on the mechanics of mimesis, regarding the killing of innocent victims and how Christ’s life and the restorative peace he brings breaks through the mimetic process. Alison comments succinctly, ‘Nothing has been able to stay the same since the resurrection of the innocent victim, much though we might want to slip into the reverse.’ [62]

A clear example of the outworking of Christ’s revelation concerning mimesis is the Gospel account of the Gerasenes and their demoniac (Mk 5:1-20), which both Girard and, in the footsteps of Girard, Alison explore. What is significant about this particular event is that the Gerasenes, far from being delighted that Jesus has healed one of their own and restored him to the community, fear what has occurred and want Jesus to leave. Girard finds that the Gerasenes and the unfortunate man subject to demonic possession are settled in some form of cyclical pathology, which Jesus unexpectedly interrupts. He notes, ‘The Gerasenes are consternated at the idea of their being deprived of the suffering. They must gain some enjoyment from this drama and even feel the need of it since they beg Jesus to leave immediately and stop interfering in their affairs. Their request is paradoxical, given that Jesus had just succeeded, without any violence, in obtaining the result which they professed to be aiming at with their chains and fetters but which, in reality, they did not want at all: the complete cure of the possessed man.’ [63] Stuck in the rut of what is familiar, that is, periodic expulsion, the violence of restrictive chains and the demoniac’s self-cutting, the Gerasenes want nothing to do with the non-violent, restorative power of Christ.

As a demoniac, the poorly treated man was part of the fragile economy of the Gerasenes; how he was and the way in which the Gerasenes dealt with him was familiar to them and they took subconscious comfort in knowing they were ‘in their right minds’ while he was not. Jesus brings an end to this and the Gerasenes simply do not like it, as Alison says, ‘It is that way of being held together that has suddenly been challenged. Whatever strange force it be that has taken their demoniac quite outside

the rules of the game by which they survive, it is, they sense, terribly threatening. So they beg Jesus to leave.’ [64] The conclusion to this event is striking in that, while the man begs Jesus to allow him to follow him, Jesus commands him to go home and show what has been done for him; as Alison concludes, ‘The man’s witness to the living God will be most powerfully given by sitting, clothed and in his right mind, at home, among friends. The fully unsettling nature of the Gospel, the strangeness and exuberant vivacity of God, will be shown in all its force simply by being a former scapegoat in a Gentile society which must learn to live without the benefit of this necessary crutch.’ [65]

The Gerasenes event exposes how, even when directly confronted by the unrestrained compassion and power of Christ, the mimetic process retains a potent hold. Habits of rivalry, violence and scapegoating may be false, but they provide familiar territory preferred by many to the uncertain ground of liberation and freedom offered by Christ. This is why, Girard asserts, ‘[T]he coming of the Kingdom of God means destruction for those who only understand destruction and reconciliation for those always seek reconciliation.’ [66] Ecclesial homophobia reflects this, being a parasitical response that thrives on ignorance and a pathological fear of what is different while unifying those driven by a mimetic yearning for the maintenance of ordered sameness.

Referring to the event of the man born blind and given his sight by Jesus, as related in the Gospel of John (Jn 9:1-41), James Alison further reveals how Christ’s life-bringing and subversive actions upset the mimetic status-quo. The question is asked regarding why the man is blind, “Who sinned, this man or his parents?” Jesus is unapologetically forthright when he declares, “No one sinned,” and heals the man. The furore that erupts from the event appears almost comical to the modern reader, as the Pharisees turn from the man, to the man’s parents and back again to establish who is responsible for the healing, whether the man really was born blind and why a blind ‘sinner’, healed on the Sabbath, should be seeing anyway! As with the Gerasenes event, no one seems particularly pleased about the healing, except the man himself; and all that concerns the religious authorities is the need for a theological debate about healing on the Sabbath.

The Pharisees initially disagree between themselves over whether or not Jesus is a ‘sinner’ or a man of God, but the healed man clearly becomes a contaminant and must be expelled. Since the Pharisees cannot finally convince him to agree with them that Jesus must be evil for healing on the Sabbath, they throw him out of the synagogue. Drawing on the mimetic process of rivalry, violent contagion and scapegoating, Alison points out, ‘He couldn’t be expelled if he weren’t sin, and he wouldn’t be sin if it hadn’t become necessary to expel him. We’re back to magic thought: if someone is excluded, for example, because he’s blind, then, somewhere there must be a sin involved.’ [67] The healed man has a healthy attitude towards the mimetic contagion of the Pharisees and refuses to join in with their moral judgements regarding the person of Jesus and the rights and wrongs of healing on the Sabbath. They are left with their mimetic mechanism intact and the healed man pays the price.  

Referring to John’s account Alison comments, ‘The story of the man born blind thus has a role as a prophetic commentary on what is to happen to Jesus and how what happens to Jesus is going to function. It is going to function as an element which makes it impossible for the righteous, the good, those who think they see, to maintain for long their goodness by the exclusion of people considered evil, sinful or blind.’ [68] This is the difficulty with those homophobic Christians who are convinced of both their own righteousness and the sinful state of gay men and lesbians. Believing, in their case, that creation is finished, they assert goodness entails the maintenance of the order they have established. Thus using their own unity as a starting point, goodness becomes defined solely as a heterosexual dynamic, to the detriment of all non-heterosexuals who are assumed to be sinful and therefore excluded. However, as Alison strongly notes, ‘All humans are blind, but where this blindness is compounded by active participation in the mechanisms of exclusions pretending to sight, this blindness is culpable.’ [69]

What would be helpful is a theology of sexuality that incorporates a ‘coming out’ story for gay men and lesbians akin to the exodus of the Children of Israel, the coming out borne of the abolition of slavery and the coming out of women from centuries of oppression. Alison explores the potential of this in Faith Beyond Resentment, [70] suggesting that we need, not so much a cynical exercise in marketing to promote non-heterosexuals as Biblical ‘good guys’, but rather an emergence of divine creation, invitation and acceptance; an ‘anthropophany’ as it were: ‘[It] is not a question of us searching for a story, but of us discovering, slowly, painfully, and through endless muddle and losing the thread, that we are being invited to inhabit a story which is not one of reaction, but of being called into being and rejoiced in . . . I also want to suggest that there are, in our midst hints of an emerging capacity for story, a capacity which can enrich us all, straight and gay alike.’ [71] It is not an easy theological journey either for Christian gay men and lesbians or for those heterosexual brethren compelled by Gospel truth to stand with homosexuals in solidarity. It requires courage to stand and face the ‘lynch mob’ mentality of those less able to converse than pronounce; courage in the midst of crumbling facades and surfacing questions; and courage to break down confining mimetic mechanisms and enter into the unknown arena of freedom, love and acceptance.

The Gospels have established, through the dialogue and Passion of Christ, the revelation of mimesis and how its mechanics work to produce rivalry, promote violent contagion and lead to the expulsion of innocent victims. Girard affirms, ‘Once understood, the mechanisms can no longer operate; we believe less and less in the culpability of the victims they demand. Deprived of the food that sustains them, the institutions derived

from these mechanisms collapse one after the other about us. Whether we know it or not, the Gospels are responsible for this collapse.’ [72] Through his death and resurrection, Christ becomes the ultimate Scapegoat, the

one true judge of mimesis, and the means by which the mechanics of

mimesis may be overcome. That is to say, as Alison asserts, ‘The

teaching which [Jesus] has come to bring, leaving open and exposed the mechanism of the randomly chosen victim will be, from now on, the inexorable, though hidden, dynamic of history, and it is in its light that everything will be reconceptualised – which has in fact happened. Once said, what Jesus said can never be totally hidden again, and any attempt to do so . . . fatally fails in the long run.’ [73]

The reality remains that homophobia, as an expression of mimetic mechanics, retains a powerful hold on the ecclesia, to the point where Christ’s prophetic words ring true, that “The hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering a service to God.” (Jn 16:2). Girard poignantly concludes The Scapegoat with, ‘The murderers remain convinced of the worthiness of their sacrifice. They too, know not what they do and we must forgive them. The time has come for us to forgive one another. If we wait any longer there will not be time enough. [74] Gay men and lesbians still remain more likely to be expelled by an ecclesia than forgiven; and more likely to be forgiven than given permission to simply be. Similarly, the gay community generally still regards the Church as a whole with suspicion, viewing it as little more than an outdated, bigoted and unloving institution.

Nevertheless, growing numbers of homosexual and heterosexual Christians are together seeking to break out from the imprisonment of prejudice and ignorance and instead recognise one another as whole human beings, with equally valid experiences, strengths and frailties. Slowly, even painfully, change advances as common ground is sought whereby inclusivity can be explored and worked through as part of the diverse body of Christ. Since its humble beginnings in the home of expelled gay Pentecostal Pastor, Troy Perry, in October 1968, Metropolitan Community Church has established and upheld an inclusive gospel across its now global communion. [75] In its footsteps, Reconciling Churches, People’s Churches and Liberty Churches have emerged. Movements within United Reformed, Methodist, Lutheran and even some Baptist congregations now stand by gay-affirming principles borne of disarming mimetic mechanics and a recognition of the inclusivity of the gospel. Similarly, supporting Roman Catholic and Anglican caucuses have established themselves, such as Quest, Dignity, Integrity, Acceptance and the Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement.

Christians who recognise homophobia for what it is are making a conscious effort to allow the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God for the sake of being set free by the truth as Christ promised, dispelling rivalry, collective violence and scapegoating and instead embracing reconciliation. Those unified in the comfort of the mimetic mechanism continue pursuing the expulsion of those ‘other’ and neither want or look for reconciliation. Even so, it is imperative for homosexual and supporting heterosexual brethren to continue engaging with the wider Christian community in the hope that the Church as a whole might overcome its fears, recognise homophobia for the mimetic falsehood it is and abandon it, replacing it with an ‘anthropophany’ of creation, invitation and being. Business woman and Pastor, Cindi Love, aptly expresses this:

I understand fear of change and difference, but I also know that fear cannot be overcome by the destruction of ‘the Other’. . . We are trapped in an escalating spiral of hostility and recrimination and we must all hit the reset button; for it is not possible to preach exclusion, hatred and violence from the ineffable centre of the Holy Spirit. [76]

In pausing to consider the mechanics of mimesis and choosing instead to work from within the non-violence and detached generosity of God, the liberating love of Jesus Christ and the unrestricted power of the Holy Spirit, the mimetic process loses its ability to influence. As a consequence, negative ecclesial teaching on homosexuality can be seen to be inconsistent with the revelation of God made known to us through Jesus Christ, since it makes God complicit in man-made traditions. When we recognise and confess Jesus as Lord, not merely as an affirmation of his presence but as an active profession of an all-loving, unrestricted power, then we may begin to realise that the Spirit of Christ is teaching us not to lie concerning what God does and does not say about homosexuality. In short, as René Girard consistently points to throughout his work, ‘Those who see the truth understand that Satan’s kingdom is headed for destruction because of the revelation of the truth about it, and they are liberated from the persecution mentality.’ [77]

It would be naive to suggest that the ecclesia is gradually discovering René Girard’s mimesis theory and responding radically concerning homosexuality and homophobia. However, heterosexual and non-heterosexual Christians are rediscovering together the non-violence and inclusivity of God as revealed in and through the dialogue and Passion of Christ. As a result they are abandoning the mimetic process. In this regard, Girard’s theory of mimesis is a powerful tool for serious consideration of the reality of ecclesial homophobia and how to counter it.

Those homosexual and heterosexual Christians, who have stepped away from a persecution mentality, have found and continue to find, their way through the oppressive maze of ecclesial homophobia to a God who invites, creates and encourages to simply be; and they are learning to construct a true diversity within unity that witnesses to an inclusive ecclesia as commanded by Christ. Like Job, they have come to understand God to be the redeemer, not the oppressor: ‘Job not only resists totalitarian contagion but wrests the deity out of the process of persecution to envision him as the God of victims, not of persecutors. This is what Job means when he affirms, “As for me, I know that my Defender lives.” (Job 19:25)’ [78]

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Conclusion

Mimesis, according to René Girard, is the force behind all human desire, making the human condition one of imitation and one which eventually leads to rivalry and conflict. The solution is for opposing forces to unite by selecting random victims or scapegoats and substituting them in the place of emerging enmity. By blaming an other for all ills befalling the community and then expelling or killing them, the problem is defeated and order returns. However, as Girard emphasises, ‘Persecutors always believe in the excellence of their cause, but in reality they hate without a cause. The absence of cause in the accusation (ad causam) is never seen by the persecutors.’ [79] Thus the mechanics of mimesis are, ultimately, the controlling fears behind collective hatred and violence towards anyone or anything that is different from the order of established sameness within any given community.

Girard understands that for mimesis to work within a community or group, humans must believe absolutely in the guilt of the one being scapegoated and expelled; that they are dangerous and thus their expulsion or, indeed, sacrificial death, is necessary for the sake of harmony and order. He asserts that persecution feeds on victims indiscriminately, ‘The least pretext is enough. No one really cares about the guilt or innocence of the victim.’ [80] Certainly, for ecclesial homophobia, where gay men and lesbians are concerned it is enough to simply be homosexual; guilt of promiscuity, corruption of the young and intent to destroy traditional societal values is presumed, justifying rejection and expulsion. The crux of the matter, however, is that the mechanics of mimesis are false, based on irrational fears, ignorance and illusion. The mimetic mechanism has the hold it does only because humans subconsciously consent to its control. The moment mimesis is dared to be seen for what it is, it collapses and its true nature is revealed, that victims are innocent and hated without cause.

Ecclesial homophobia is an outworking of the mimetic process. Just as forms of fear and oppression were conveyed by the ecclesia in its somewhat chequered history with, for example, lepers, Jews, presumed witches and slaves, so homosexuals are similarly targeted as individuals and as a group to be banned from the presence of God as an ‘abomination’ and expelled, even killed. Superficially, the case is made and closed on Biblical literalism and little impact has been made by recent decades of scholarship and theological excellence revealing that there is no Biblical blanket condemnation of homosexuality. Ecclesial homophobia draws no distinction between sexual abuse or misuse and faithful, committed same-sex life partners. Instead, the attempted rape of angels (Gen 19), idolatrous relations with temple prostitutes (Lev 18:22, 20:13; Deut 23:18-19) and some forms of sexual misuse referred to in the New Testament, particularly where there may be no equivalent modern word, all equate to homosexuality.

Girard proposes that specific, divinely-inspired texts, in particular the Gospel accounts of the dialogues and actions of Jesus Christ, enable the mimetic mechanism to be recognised and thus disarmed. He emphasises that, ultimately, in learning how to break free from the mechanics of mimesis, we can move away from structures built on scapegoating and embrace a peace that is not reliant on the expulsion of violence by violence. He asserts that, in using the language of ‘scandal’ and of ‘Satan’ Christ unravels the cyclical process of mimetic contagion for all to see and hear, revealing how rivalry, collective violence and scapegoating imitates only parasitical forces of destruction, emptying everyone and everything of their substance. In revealing the destructive nature of mimesis and the falsity of its foundation, Christ also reveals God to be unfalteringly loving and non-violent, opposed to mimetic cyclical activity and opposed to those through whom it is maintained and propagated. Christ’s solution to the problem is to stop imitating others who promote rivalry and collective violence, and instead imitate him as the untainted source of peace, power and the perfect will of God; to let go of the mimetic mechanism and embrace the Kingdom of God.

By acting and speaking the way he does, Christ becomes the ultimate Scapegoat, worthy of expulsion by way of crucifixion. Girard affirms, ‘There is nothing in the Gospels to suggest God causes the mob to come together against Jesus. Violent contagion is enough. Those responsible for the Passion are the human participants themselves, incapable of resisting the violent contagion that affects them all when a mimetic snowballing comes within their range, or rather when they come within the range of this mimetic snowballing and are swept along by it.’ [81] Yet it is the Crucifixion itself that brings about the death of the mimetic mechanism and it is the Resurrection that points to life and freedom overcoming the lingering power of the mimetic process. As the most innocent of all victims and the Scapegoat par excellence, Jesus becomes the one true judge of collective violence and the scapegoating mechanism.

This is why, according to Girard, the fundamental peace of the Kingdom of God, established in and through Jesus Christ, brings destruction for those who refuse to move from a position of mimetically dictated destruction, while bringing reconciliation for those who seek reconciliation. In terms of homophobia, this is illustrated by developments within the ecclesia where homosexual and heterosexual Christians together are recognising what the Bible does and does not say about homosexuality and are committed to an inclusive gospel and an inclusive ecclesia. Those Christians who have themselves been scapegoated and have broken away from a persecution mentality are able to point the way towards abandoning the mechanics of mimesis and embracing the truth as revealed by the Gospel texts. At the same time, homophobic Christians within the ecclesia and particularly the ‘Christian Right’ who maintain a mimetic view of homosexuality, do not wish to look beyond their own unifying sameness, proclaiming those ‘other’ and outside their sphere to be sinful, deviant, and worthy only of expulsion.          

René Girard’s theory of mimesis provides a rich ground for exploring and questioning ecclesial homophobia and how Christians of different sexual orientations together might discover a common ground without rivalry, violence or scapegoats, where dialogue is possible within the fundamental peace of Jesus Christ. The light Girard sheds may be theologically uncomfortable and raise objections concerning the assumed psychological functionality of mimesis as part of the human condition. It may even prompt the legitimate, albeit cynical, objection that the actions of the Church as a whole, over the past two millennia and towards various peoples and cultures, negates any reference to our being privy to such revolutionary thinking in the Gospels – we simply have not put it into practise to date, so why should Girard’s theory of mimesis make it so now?  

Nonetheless, experientially, what Girard presents in terms of exposure of the mimetic mechanism and its being abandoned, rings true both for ecclesial mishandling of homosexuals and homosexual behaviour and for each positive step the ecclesia has taken away from homophobia. Developments, advancements and backward steps too, witness to the truth of mimetic contagion and scapegoating being conquered and abandoned by an increasing number of Christians, while yet being doggedly held on to by others. Many Christians have reached a point where it is possible to recognise that love, faithfulness, holiness and obedience have nothing to do with sexual orientation; enabling the ecclesial ‘anti-gay versus pro-gay’ rift to shrink. Loving dialogue between ecclesial family members, regardless of sexual orientation, brings hope for the breaking down of homophobic walls and the realisation of healing from the carnage caused, in all directions, by homophobic scapegoating.

No doubt, ecclesial homophobia will continue to exist for a long time to come, but in the Gospel texts we have always had the tools with which to understand why and how fear, prejudice and expulsion can and must be discarded and replaced with inclusivity. In its human frailty and weakness, the ecclesia as a whole has tended to bury these tools and forget where they lie, but what Girard has effectively achieved is their resurrection in such a way that they cannot be buried and forgotten again.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY

 

Primary Sources:

Girard, René, Deceit, Desire and the Novel: Self and Other in Literary Structure [Translated by Yvonne Freccero] (John Hopkins University Press, London, Reprinted 1976)

Girard, René, I see Satan Fall Like Lightening [Translated by John G. Williams] (Gracewing, Herefordshire, 2001)

Girard, René, Job: The Victim of his People [Translated by Yvonne Freccero] (Stanford University Press, Stanford, CA, 1987)

Girard, René, The Scapegoat [Translated by Yvonne Freccero] (John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, Maryland, 1989)

Girard, René, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World [Translated by Stephen Bann and Michael Metteer] (Continuum International Publishing Group, New York, Reprinted 2003)

Girard, René, Violence and the Sacred [Translated by Patrick Gregory] (Continuum, New York, Reprinted 2007)

 

Secondary Sources:

Alison, James, Faith Beyond Resentment: Fragments Catholic and Gay (Darton Longman and Todd, London, 2001)

Alison, James, The Joy of Being Wrong: Original Sin Through Easter Eyes (The Crossroad Publishing Company, New York, 1998)

Alison, James, Living in the End Times: The Last Things Re-imagined (SPCK, London, 1997)

Balthasar, Hans Urs von, Theo-Drama:Theological Dramatic Theory IV: ‘The Action’ (Ignatius Press, San Francisco, 1994)

Bates, Stephen, A Church at War: Anglicans and Homosexuality (Hodder and Stoughton, London, 2005)

Boswell, John, Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality: Gay People in Western Europe from the Beginning of the Christian Era to the Fourteenth Century (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1980)

Chellew-Hodge, Candace, Bullet-proof Faith: A Spiritual Survival Guide for Gay and Lesbian Christians (Jossey Bass, San Francisco, 2008)

Dover, K. J., Greek Homosexuality (Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1978)

Helminiak, Daniel A., What The Bible Really Says About Homosexuality (Almo Square Press, San Francisco, 1995)

Horner, Tom, Jonathan Loved David: Homosexuality in Biblical Times (The Westminster Press, Philadelphia, 1978)

Jay, Nancy, Through Your Generations Forever: Sacrifice, Religion and Paternity, (University Press, Chicago, 1992)

Jung, Patricia Beattie, and Smith, Ralf F., Heterosexism: An Ethical Challenge (State University of New York Press, Albany, N.Y., 1993)

Juvenal and Persius, Translation G.G. Ramsay (Harvard Press, Cambridge, MA, 1957)

Kirwan, Michael, Discovering Girard (Darton, Longman and Todd, London, Reprinted 2007)

Kofman, Sarah, ‘The Narcissistic Woman: Freud and Girard’, in Psychoanalytic Quarterly, Vol. 53:643, 1984, pp.195-210

Love, Cindi, Would Jesus Discriminate? : The 21^st Century Question (Trafford Publishing, Victoria, BC, 2008)

Lucian Vol III, Translation A.M. Harmon (William Heinman, London, 1921)

Malik, Faris, Born Eunuchs: Homosexual Identity in the Ancient World, http://www.well.com/user/aquarius/contents.htm

(Accessed 18/01/2009)

Mercer Dictionary of the Bible (Mercer University Press, Macon, 1994)

Miner, Jeff, and Tyler Connoley, John, The Children Are Free: Re-examining the Biblical Evidence on Same-Sex Relationships (Jesus Metropolitan Community Church, Indianapolis, April 2002)

Moore, Gareth, A Question of Truth: Christianity and Homosexuality (Continuum, New York, 2003)

Nelson, James B., Between Two Gardens: Reflections on Sexuality and Religious Experience (Pilgrim Press, New York, 1983)

Nelson, James B., Embodiment: An Approach to Sexuality and Christian Theology (SPCK, London, 1979)

Troy Perry, Don’t Be Afraid Anymore: The History of Metropolitan Community Church (St. Martin's Press, New York, 1990)

Perry, Troy, Ten Spiritual Truths for Lesbian and Gay Christians [and Everybody Else]: Discovering Positive Spirituality for Gays and Lesbians (Morris Publishing, Kearney, NE, 2003)

Sergent, Bernard, Homosexuality in Greek Myth, (Beacon Press, Boston, 1986)

Schneider, Johannes, Eunuch: Biblical, http://www.gendertree.com/Eunuch%20Biblical.htm

(Accessed 18/01/2009)

Stuart, Elizabeth, Religion is a Queer Thing: A Guide to the Christian Faith for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered People (Cassell, London, 1997)

Talmud Bavli, Tractate Yevumos: the Schottenstein Edition (Mesorah Publications Ltd, Brooklin, NY, 1999)

White, Mel, Stranger at the Gate: To be Gay and Christian in America (Plume, New York, 1995)

Williams James G., [Editor], The Girard Reader, (Crossroad Publishing Company, New York, 1996)

 

Other Background Sources:

Alison, James, Human Sexuality or Ecclesial Discourse? (Paper presented to the Sarum Consultation on Human Sexuality and the Churches, 9th-10th February 2004) Archived on: www.jamesalison.co.uk/pdf/eng14.pdf (Accessed 28/11/08)

Althaus-Reid, Marcella and Isherwood, Lisa [Editors], The Sexual Theologian: Essays on Sex, God and Politics (T & T Clark International, London, 2004)

Beal, Timothy, Religion and Its Monsters (Routledge, New York, 2002)

Blaker, Kimberley, [Editor], The Fundamentals of Extremism: The Christian Right in America (New Boston Books, New Boston, Michigan, 2003)

Comstock, Gary David, Gay Theology Without Apology (The Pilgrim Press, Cleveland, Ohio, 1993)

Countryman, William, Politics, Polity and the Bible as Hostage, in Linzey and Kirker [Editors], Gays and the Future of Anglicanism: Responses to the Windsor Report (O Books, Hampshire, 2005)

Dormor, Duncan and Morris, Jeremy, [Editors], An Acceptable Sacrifice? : Homosexuality and the Church (SPCK, London, 2007)

Douglas, Tom, Scapegoats: Transferring Blame (Routledge, London, New York, 1995)

Fleming, Chris, Key Contemporary Thinkers: Rene Girard, Violence and Mimesis (Polity Press Ltd, Malden, MA, 2004, Reprinted 2008)

Hilton, Bruce, Can Homophobia be Cured? : Wrestling With Questions that Challenge the Church (Abingdon Press, Nashville, 1992)

Kantor, Martin, Homophobia: Description, Development, and Dynamics of Gay Bashing (Praeger, Westport, 1998)

Kirwan, Michael, Girard and Theology (T & T Clark, London, 2009)

McNeil, John J., Taking a Chance on God: Liberating Theology for Gays, Lesbians, and Their Lovers, Families and Friends (Beacon Press, Boston, 1996)

‘Michael’ and ‘Chris’, A Gay-Straight Dialogue: A Little More Conversation, A Little Less Reaction, Please; Grove Pastoral Series (Grove Books Ltd, Cambridge, 2005)

Vasey, Michael, Strangers and Friends: A New Exploration of Homosexuality and the Bible (Hodder and Stoughton, London, 1995)

Williams, Rowan, The Body’s Grace (Produced for the Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement, 1989) Archived on:

www.igreens.org.uk (Accessed 10/11/08)

Wilson, Nancy, Our Tribe: Queer Folks, God, Jesus and the Bible (Alamo Square Press, New Mexico, 2000)

Wink, Walter [Editor], Homosexuality and Christian Faith: Questions of Conscience for the Churches (Fortress Press, Minneapolis, 1999)

 

Bible Versions Used:

New International Version (Zondervan, 2005)

New Jerusalem Bible (Darton, Longman & Todd, 1990)

English Standard Version (Harper Collins Publishers, 2001)

Greek New Testament (United Bible Societies, 1983)

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[1] See: Moore, A Question of Truth: Christianity and Homosexuality; Jung, Heterosexism: An Ethical Challenge; Nelson, Embodiment: An Approach to Sexuality and Christian Theology

[2] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.142

[3] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, pp.15-16.

[4] Girard, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World, p.335.

[5] Kofman, The Narcissistic Woman: Freud and Girard, in, Psychoanalytic Quarterly, Vol 53:643,

1984, pp.195-210; Jay, Through Your Generations Forever: Sacrifice, Religion and Paternity,  

pp.130.

[6] Balthasar, Theo-Drama:Theological Dramatic Theory IV: ‘The Action’, pp.309-10.

[7] Kirwan, Discovering Girard, p.81.

[8] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.26.

[9] Girard, Violence and the Sacred, pp.99-100.

[10] Girard, Violence and the Sacred, p.81.

[11] Girard, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World, p.42.

[12] Girard, Job, the Victim of his People, p.26.

[13] Girard, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World, p.7.      

[14] Girard, Things Hidden Since The Foundation of the World, p.37.

[15] Girard, The Scapegoat, pp.14-15.

[16] Girard, Violence and the Sacred, pp.174-5.

[17] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.33.

[18] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.37.

[19] Girard, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World, pp.144-160.

[20] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.20.

[21] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.186.

[22] Girard, The Scapegoat, pp.102-4.

[23] Kirwan, Discovering Girard, p.64.

[24] Girard, ‘The Bible, the Gospels and Christ’ in: Williams, The Girard Reader, p.168.

[25] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.103.

[26] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.138.

[27] Girard, ‘The Bible, the Gospels and Christ’ in, Williams, The Girard Reader, p.207.

[28] Oxford English Dictionary.

[29] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.111.

[30] For example, see: Tom Horner, Jonathan Loved David; Daniel Helminiak, What the Bible Really Says About Homosexuality; John Boswell, Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality.

[31] James Alison, The Joy of Being Wrong, p.2.

[32] Girard, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World, p.78.

[33] Being heterosexual does of course have its own set of constraints of marital fidelity, celibacy or a

   life of sexual sin. However, the impression one gains from heterosexual Christian rhetoric

directed towards the gay community is that even sexually irresponsible heterosexuality is    

acceptable while even the most restrained gay or lesbian sexuality is not.

[34] Bates, A Church at War, p.42.

[35] Girard, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World, p.41.

[36] Mel White, Stranger at the gate, p.271.

[37] Candace Chellew-Hodge, Bulletproof Faith, p.73.

[38] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.154.

[39] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.155.

[40] I am indebted to the work of Daniel A Helminiak regarding a full understanding of ‘malakoi’  

   and ‘arsenokoitai’ in, What the Bible Really Says About Homosexuality, pp.85-96.

[41] K. J. Dover, Greek Homosexuality, p.16; Bernard Sergent, Homosexuality in Greek Myth, p.10.

[42] ‘Marriage’ in, Mercer Dictionary of the Bible.

[43] Faris Malik, Born Eunuchs: Homosexual Identity in the Ancient World, available online:                               http://www.well.com/user/aquarius/contents.htm ; Johannes Schneider, Eunuch,

Biblical, available online: http://www.gendertree.com/Eunuch%20Biblical.htm

[44] Talmud Bavli, Tractate Yevumos 8:79b: the Schottenstein Edition.

[45] Talmud Bavli, Tractate Yevumos 8:80b: the Schottenstein Edition.

[46] Lucian Vol III, [trans A.M. Harmon], p.197.

[47] Juvenal and Persius [trans G.G. Ramsay], P.5.

[48] Jeff Miner and John Tylor Connoley, The Children are Free, p.43.

[49] Horner’s Jonathan Loved David and Helminiak’s What the Bible Really Says About Homosexualtiy each provide considered and balanced textual argument for the fully expressed relationships of David and Jonathan and Ruth and Naomi.

[50] James Alison, Faith Beyond Resentment, pp.45-46.

[51] James Alison, Faith Beyond Resentment, pp.200-1.

[52] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.189.

[53] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.16.

[54] Alison, Faith Beyond Resentment, p.216.

[55] I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.17.

[56] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.14.

[57] Girard, I see Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.33.

[58] Alison, Faith Beyond resentment, p.130.

[59] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.34.

[60] Girard, The Scapegoat, pp.191-2.

[61] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.103.

[62] Alison, Living in the End Times, p.177.

[63] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.169.

[64] Alison, Faith Beyond, p.127.

[65] Alison, Faith Beyond Resentment, p.127.

[66] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.191.

[67] Alison, Faith Beyond Resentment, p.15.

[68] Alison, Faith Beyond Resentment, pp.15-16.

[69] Alison, The Joy of Being Wrong, p.123.

[70] Ch.9, ‘On Finding a Story’ pp.194-208.

[71] Alison, Faith Beyond Resentment, pp.196-7.

[72] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.101.

[73] Alison, Living in the End Times, p.147.

[74] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.212.

[75] A full history of the beginnings of Metropolitan Community Church can be found in Perry’s Don’t Be Afraid Anymore.

[76] Cindi Love, Would Jesus Discriminate? pp.108-9.

[77] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.192.

[78] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.117.

[79] Girard, The Scapegoat, p.103.

[80] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.128.

[81] Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, p.21.