Held in Tension: Sexuality and Spirituality

Navigating Sexuality and Faith in Religious Spaces

There's a conversation I had recently that keeps replaying in my mind. It started with a Facebook post about the conflicts between sexuality and spirituality in Christian communities, and before I knew it, I was in a deep exchange with someone facing what they called a "horrifying" internal conflict. They were an aspiring Anglican priest in Nigeria, caught between their calling to ministry and their authentic self.

This isn't just their story. It's the story of countless individuals sitting in pews, leading worship, teaching Sunday school, or aspiring to ministry, whilst carrying a weight that feels unbearable. The conflict between sexuality and spirituality in religious settings is real, raw, and deeply personal.

The Weight of Worthiness

What struck me most in our conversation was how quickly we default to the language of worthiness and condemnation. My response to them came from years of wrestling with these same questions: Jesus died for us regardless. Grace teaches us godliness. These aren't just theological platitudes; they're lifelines for those drowning in guilt.

The fundamental question isn't whether God loves us despite who we are, but whether we can accept that God loves us because of who we are: fully, authentically, completely. When we understand that the Father sees us through what Christ did for us, not through what we do ourselves, it changes everything. Or at least, it should.

The Complexity of Conflict

As our conversation deepened, I found myself laying out the layers of conflict that many face. It's never just one thing. There's the matter of attraction itself: acknowledging it, understanding it, accepting it.

Then there's the question of what to do with that attraction. Do you seek companionship? Commit to celibacy? Try to change? Each path comes with its own set of challenges and consequences.

For those called to ministry, like my conversation partner, the stakes feel even higher. In conservative religious environments, particularly in places like Nigeria where the Anglican Church takes strongly traditional stances, the choice can feel impossible: your calling or your truth, your ministry or your authenticity.

The Geography of Grace

I mentioned Reverend Jide Macaulay to them: a gay Anglo-Nigerian Anglican priest who founded The House of Rainbow and now ministers in the UK. His story illustrates something crucial. Sometimes finding peace means finding new spaces. Not everyone can or should leave their religious community, but knowing that affirming spaces exist can be lifesaving.

The geographic and denominational differences in how churches handle these issues are stark. What's considered grounds for exclusion in one congregation might be celebrated in another. This isn't about church shopping for convenience; it's about finding communities where you can worship authentically and serve fully.

Compartmentalisation versus Integration

Near the end of our exchange, I suggested something that might sound counterintuitive: sometimes we need to compartmentalise to gain liberty from our conflicts. This isn't about living a double life or hiding parts of yourself. It's about recognising that different aspects of our identity might need different kinds of attention and space to develop.

You can be deeply spiritual and sexually aware. You can be called to ministry and attracted to the same sex. You can love God and struggle with church doctrine. These aren't contradictions to be resolved but tensions to be held with grace.

Moving Forward

What I've learnt from conversations like these is that there's no one-size-fits-all solution to navigating sexuality and faith. For some, the answer is finding affirming religious communities. For others, it's reinterpreting scripture through a more inclusive lens. Still others find peace in celibacy or in stepping away from organised religion whilst maintaining their spirituality.

The key is this: the conflict doesn't have to be horrifying. It can be transformative. It can lead to a deeper, more authentic faith, one that doesn't require you to leave parts of yourself at the church door.

To those facing these struggles, know that you're not alone. There are communities, resources, and people who have walked this path before you. The journey towards integrating your sexuality and spirituality might be challenging, but it doesn't have to be a journey of condemnation. It can be a journey towards wholeness, towards a faith that embraces all of who you are.

Because at the end of the day, any God worth worshipping is big enough to handle our complexity, our questions, and our authentic selves. The real question isn't whether God accepts us. It's whether we're brave enough to accept ourselves.