He sat on the church steps long after the others had gone home. Night had folded gently over the parking lot, stars just beginning to whisper their presence. Sam wrapped his arms around his knees, feeling both too heavy and too exposed. His Bible was still in his backpack, though he hadn’t opened it in days. He loved God—but tonight, the question that echoed in his heart wasn’t about love. It was about shame.
“Is being gay a sin?” he whispered to the wind, not sure if he was praying or just trying to hear himself say it out loud.
We don’t often talk about whispered questions like this. But the Bible is not afraid of hard conversations, and neither is Jesus. So let’s sit together on that church step for a while—and look not away, but within.
One of the verses often quoted in this conversation is Leviticus 18:22: “Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable.” That verse makes some people wince. Others wield it like a blade. But very few pause long enough to ask what it really means—or who it was written to, and why.
Paul echoes the complexity in Romans 1:26–27, describing people who “exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones.” Then in 1 Corinthians 6:9–10, he lists a host of sins that, he says, can keep someone from the kingdom of God. That list includes greed, slander, drunkenness—and a debated Greek word that some translations connect with homosexual behavior.
But if we only read Scripture to find verdicts, we will miss what it came to bring: rescue.
Maybe, like Sam, you’ve heard these verses and felt one thing: disqualified. But Scripture never begins with a disqualification. It begins with intimacy. With God breathing life into Adam. With God walking in the garden in the cool of the day. The story of the Bible is not that we are too broken to be loved—but that we are so loved that Jesus came for our brokenness.
The question isn’t just “Is being gay a sin?” That’s too small for the weight of the human heart. A better question is, “Does God still want me? All of me? Even the parts I don’t know how to fix?”
And the answer, soaked in blood and hope, is yes.
You see, Scripture doesn’t spotlight homosexuality to shame anyone. The Bible speaks against exploiting others. It warns against idolatry bent around self. And yes, it teaches that God’s design for sex is a covenant between husband and wife. But it never teaches that our sexual orientation is the sum total of our identity—or our destiny.
Jesus never once mentioned homosexuality by name, but He went out of His way to name the lonely and lift the excluded. He saw the woman at the well, the tax collector in the tree, the man tormented by demons and shame. To each one, He extended both truth and presence. He knelt. He touched. He stayed.
Maybe you’ve felt that too—that aching hope that God will not walk away once He knows everything. The gospel promise is that He already knows, and He’s never moved an inch away from you.
When Paul said “such were some of you” (1 Corinthians 6:11), he wasn’t condemning people for their past. He was naming the miracle of grace: “But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.”
Washed. Sanctified. Justified.
Not by perfection, but by a person. Jesus Christ.
So let’s sit with that truth. Not rush it. Not dilute it.
Sin, whatever form it takes, is not about who you’re attracted to—it’s about what rules your heart. The Bible’s call isn’t a banishment from belonging; it’s a call to bring our desires to the One who shaped us. Not to be erased, but to be reformed. Loved first, not fixed first.
Some may tell you your story disqualifies you. But the gospel says your story is exactly the kind God loves to enter and redeem. We're all Sam, somewhere on those church steps, wondering if grace really means all.
Here’s the line I hold when the questions get loud: Jesus never flinches at our honesty—only at our hiding.
And maybe, just maybe, the most courageous thing you’ll ever do is believe that He’s still holding out His hand to you. With your story. With your questions. With your whole heart.
He sat on the church steps long after the others had gone home. Night had folded gently over the parking lot, stars just beginning to whisper their presence. Sam wrapped his arms around his knees, feeling both too heavy and too exposed. His Bible was still in his backpack, though he hadn’t opened it in days. He loved God—but tonight, the question that echoed in his heart wasn’t about love. It was about shame.
“Is being gay a sin?” he whispered to the wind, not sure if he was praying or just trying to hear himself say it out loud.
We don’t often talk about whispered questions like this. But the Bible is not afraid of hard conversations, and neither is Jesus. So let’s sit together on that church step for a while—and look not away, but within.
One of the verses often quoted in this conversation is Leviticus 18:22: “Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable.” That verse makes some people wince. Others wield it like a blade. But very few pause long enough to ask what it really means—or who it was written to, and why.
Paul echoes the complexity in Romans 1:26–27, describing people who “exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones.” Then in 1 Corinthians 6:9–10, he lists a host of sins that, he says, can keep someone from the kingdom of God. That list includes greed, slander, drunkenness—and a debated Greek word that some translations connect with homosexual behavior.
But if we only read Scripture to find verdicts, we will miss what it came to bring: rescue.
Maybe, like Sam, you’ve heard these verses and felt one thing: disqualified. But Scripture never begins with a disqualification. It begins with intimacy. With God breathing life into Adam. With God walking in the garden in the cool of the day. The story of the Bible is not that we are too broken to be loved—but that we are so loved that Jesus came for our brokenness.
The question isn’t just “Is being gay a sin?” That’s too small for the weight of the human heart. A better question is, “Does God still want me? All of me? Even the parts I don’t know how to fix?”
And the answer, soaked in blood and hope, is yes.
You see, Scripture doesn’t spotlight homosexuality to shame anyone. The Bible speaks against exploiting others. It warns against idolatry bent around self. And yes, it teaches that God’s design for sex is a covenant between husband and wife. But it never teaches that our sexual orientation is the sum total of our identity—or our destiny.
Jesus never once mentioned homosexuality by name, but He went out of His way to name the lonely and lift the excluded. He saw the woman at the well, the tax collector in the tree, the man tormented by demons and shame. To each one, He extended both truth and presence. He knelt. He touched. He stayed.
Maybe you’ve felt that too—that aching hope that God will not walk away once He knows everything. The gospel promise is that He already knows, and He’s never moved an inch away from you.
When Paul said “such were some of you” (1 Corinthians 6:11), he wasn’t condemning people for their past. He was naming the miracle of grace: “But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.”
Washed. Sanctified. Justified.
Not by perfection, but by a person. Jesus Christ.
So let’s sit with that truth. Not rush it. Not dilute it.
Sin, whatever form it takes, is not about who you’re attracted to—it’s about what rules your heart. The Bible’s call isn’t a banishment from belonging; it’s a call to bring our desires to the One who shaped us. Not to be erased, but to be reformed. Loved first, not fixed first.
Some may tell you your story disqualifies you. But the gospel says your story is exactly the kind God loves to enter and redeem. We're all Sam, somewhere on those church steps, wondering if grace really means all.
Here’s the line I hold when the questions get loud: Jesus never flinches at our honesty—only at our hiding.
And maybe, just maybe, the most courageous thing you’ll ever do is believe that He’s still holding out His hand to you. With your story. With your questions. With your whole heart.
