An Interview with Greg Johnson
By Travis Scott, June 17, 2022.
For the past several years Greg Johnson has been at the center of much controversy and debate in the PCA. Over this past week Greg and I have been messaging back and forth in something of an interview exploring some of his thoughts as he reflects on the past several years. These thoughts include his regrets, hurts, and hopes with regards to what he and the denomination have gone through.
We're going to talk about some of your regrets, hurts and hopes. But first, you've been the PCA's lightning rod since early 2018. Did you expect that?
Not really. When we agreed to host Revoice18, I had no idea it would be controversial. A conference for gay people who have sacrificed everything the world values to follow Jesus? I thought, "What Christian could oppose that?" I guess I was naïve. I assumed everyone else would have wanted us to support such believers. I had moved on from my ex-gay days as had pretty much the entire ex-gay movement. I assumed people knew about the failure of sexual orientation change efforts and the subsequent need to build in systems to support those who might be called to celibacy. When I shared my testimony in Christianity Today in 2019, I figured it would help people understand my story and why I have such a burden to see non-straight people come to Jesus and find a welcome embrace within the church.
I’m personally very thankful for your testimony. It has been a blessing and challenge to me. With regards to Revoice18, I appreciate the overall hope and expectation for the conference. However, if I’m honest, saying “I guess I was naive” sounds like a bit of a minimization of the concerns around the original Revoice conference including some of the titles and some of the participants. Do you see anything legitimate in the critiques of the first conference?
Yes I do. I said I had no idea it would be controversial when we agreed to host it. That was before I saw the conference website, which was later. Then I thought it would raise some eyebrows because of the amount of LGBTQ+ terminology and one provocative seminar title. But nothing like what transpired.
Later, before the conference, but as concerns were being raised, I wrote an article titled Concerning Reports about Revoice in which I shared how I and my church shared some of the concerns that were being raised, questions like whether homoerotic longing is morally neutral, whether the conference was promoting sexless same-sex quasi-marriages, whether the conference was promoting gay identity over identity in Christ, etc. The conference organizers shared those concerns as well. From my perspective, the conference itself was doing none of those things. There was a lot of misrepresentation online. I spent about 20 hours a week trying to clarify. I posted audio of my own Revoice18 talk online so anyone could listen and draw their own conclusions.
There were some legitimate concerns raised. Some talk titles did occasion a lot of confusion (think Queer Treasure). But if there were questions, I would have expected someone to reach out to the conference organizers to understand what the content would be before they post an article denouncing it online. Sadly, that seldom happened.
Similar to the controversy around Revoice, you and Memorial were embroiled in controversy over another event called Transluminate. Can you briefly speak to that, and specifically to anything you or Memorial would do differently now?
We had converted our Chapel, adjacent to the church, to a secular arts venue fifteen years ago. There has long been a wall of suspicion between Christians and the arts community. Both sides have been adding bricks to that wall for years. But the arts community in St. Louis, like the LGBT community, is part of our mission field. So we launched this ministry in which we provide the art space for free to secular artists. We provide free drinks to their patrons. Our members staff the bar. We think of it as a space in the church's orbit, but specifically one in which nonbelievers in the arts scene experience our hospitality. A place where their (non-Christian) voices are respected, even when we disagree with them. We don't endorse art in the Chapel. We've hosted artists who are atheists. Muslim. Jewish. New Age. Gay. You name it.
A local theatre company with many LGBTQ+ actors put on Transluminate, a performance of four short plays written by playwrights who were transgender. The plays dealt with themes of gender dysphoria, embodiment, family conflict and self-acceptance. After the final show, one artist came up to one of our pastors and said, "We know what your church believes. We don't understand why you're being so kind to us." They spoke for forty minutes. On her way out, the actress said, "I've never felt so respected by a Christian."
Like everything in the Chapel, It was an attempt on our part to be Christians serving artists who need Jesus. The only way to reach LGBTQ+ people is from below, by loving them, by washing their feet. By serving them. People outside of St. Louis wouldn't have had much context for what we do with the Chapel, though. And so there was a lot of understandable confusion and concern.
As to what we would do differently now, since that event Memorial has developed its own statement of biblical conviction on sexuality, which we can point people to whenever they have questions about what we believe. We have also reorganized the ministry and clarified policies and procedures. Zondervan published a supplement to my book in which I discuss mission to the LGBTQ+ community, which can help give some of that context for things like Transluminate.
We're still working with our presbytery to figure out whether or not there is a way for us to continue this ministry of presence in unevangelized communities like the LGBTQ+ community—these are people we as Christians want to continue to serve and love. We're looking into whether there is a way we can do this without at the same time disrupting the peace of the PCA.
As you’ve reflected on all this can you see why some would have some serious questions about your views given the back to back nature of the Revoice and Transluminate situations? While you’ve heard a lot of unjust criticism, what criticisms in the wake of these events do you think were legitimate?
For both Revoice and Transluminate, I think it's fair to say that we had failed to do all we could do to preserve the peace of the broader church. That left a lot of pastors scrambling to answer questions from concerned members. There are statements of belief that I wish had been in place before hosting an event that proved controversial. That way, when every pastor in the PCA had members asking about it, I could have pointed them to the answers they needed.
In a similar vein, as you reflect on the fallout of the last several years, do you have any other regrets?
I have more regrets than I can count. I've already shared some of those over these past four and a half years. I've regretted some of my own posts on Twitter and Facebook for which I've had to apologize and ask forgiveness. I've had to reach out to people with whom I differ greatly to seek their forgiveness where I've passed on incorrect information, or assumed a motive, or where I've failed to protect their name.
And then there are all the times when I've intended to say one thing only to have others hear me saying something very different than I intended. I think all of us who preach know what it’s like when something we say in the pulpit hits someone differently than we meant it—and they therefore got hurt. I take this seriously since the Bible doesn't say that love tries to do no harm. It says love does no harm. That means we're not just responsible for what we say. We also have some responsibility for how others hear us, assuming they are well intentioned. When we confuse and hurt them, all we can do is say we're sorry. Apologize for not being clearer. Ask forgiveness for hurting them. And try to let it be a learning experience to help better speak truth in love next time. I’ve had to do a lot of this over the past several years.
So, for the sake of clarity, can you give some examples of times you now realize you presented things in a less than helpful way?
One example would be my floor speech at the 2019 General Assembly. I was trying to make a point about those who suffer needing the freedom to be honest and name their experience. I made a list of analogies to similar sufferers who we'd never ask to minimize or deny their experience: alcoholism, disabilities, etc. My point was that it would be cruel to tell them it's a sin to adopt a disabled or alcoholic self-conception. But a lot of listeners thought the point I was making was that homoerotic longing is "morally neutral" like a disability. That wasn't at all the point I was developing. But a 3-second qualification on my part could have avoided the confusion. I took it to heart and made sure to make such qualifications in my book several times.
Right after that General Assembly, a Side B acquaintance on Twitter was expressing his despair at the situation for celibate men like him in the church. The PCA vote to commend the Nashville Statement had really shaken him. I tried to reply to his tweet to comfort him by saying something about the battle being lost—but not the war. My intent was to reassure him that things will get better.
I quickly realized how unhelpful that analogy was when people started asking me against whom I was going to war. There was one brother who was deeply hurt because he had defended me, and now I was talking about war. I posted an apology and asked forgiveness right away. But by then, it seemed like it had been screenshot across the denomination, but without the context of the actual conversation.
Then there was a piece I wrote in USA Today in which a lot of people heard what I wasn't intending to say. I hurt some brothers as a result. At one point, I was trying to paint a picture of how out of place I feel at General Assembly given how different my experience has been. In describing those around me as “mostly older white, churchgoing, Southern, heterosexual religious conservatives with children and grandchildren and seersucker suits,” I was trying to note—with some levity—how “One of us is not like the others.” But I have brothers who felt like I was deriding them. It wasn't my intention to deride my brothers, but my words failed to guard against that interpretation. So I've had to ask forgiveness for that.
Yeah, I have to say that the USA Today article was one I thought did more harm than good. Not because you said anything explicitly wrong but because it seemed to just pour more fuel onto an already raging fire.
Yeah, I wasn't thinking of the PCA as my audience. My experience gave me a platform to talk about the gospel with a secular audience. I don't think we can quantify the good the article did; the gospel was clearly articulated to an audience numbering in the millions.
But, while not my intention, my words did hurt some people.
Some felt I was meaning to imply that everyone who supported the overtures was personally out to target me. That wasn't my intention either.
I spend a good amount of time apologizing.
This is another example of what I said about the call to do no harm, not try to do no harm. I often remind husbands, “Focus more on what your wife is hearing. Not on what you're trying to say. Love does no harm.” For those of us who speak a lot of words, there is unintended damage that we can do. We have to take responsibility for that.
I even at one point tweeted to Tim Keller that he should read my book, that he might learn something from it. I was trying to be respectful. In hindsight I see how it came across very differently. But as it turns out, he actually had already read it. He even publicly recommended it. Obviously, that was another deleted tweet and personal apology on my part.
I also regret some of the click-bait ways with which the media has at times titled or promoted pieces I have written or interviews I've sat for.
That’s an interesting point that I think often gets overlooked or disregarded. How much control do you have over titles, word choices, or even Tweets about your book from your handle?
I don't have much control over that—authors and interviewees don't get to pick the title of an article. My Twitter feed was managed by Zondervan for a season. I ultimately signed off on all the content, though. But when USA Today titled my article, "I'm a Gay Pastor…," they didn't even give me fair warning. You won't find those words in the actual article. Sometimes, the title or the tweet is all people see. It saddens me whenever I hear that someone left their church because they read the media's clickbait title and drew conclusions from that. The actual content is always more boring than the title they give it.
I could go on. But I think you get the drift. I've had plenty of regrets.
You referenced this above, but one aspect of your ministry that I can sympathize with is that sometimes you are speaking/writing to a very specific audience in your mind, which means you may communicate differently than you would in another context. I think there’s a real need to consider different audiences in this way. I can’t imagine the pressure and challenge of trying to steward communication for the vastly different audiences you have access to. However, simply put, given the microscope you’ve rightly or wrongly been put under, and given all of the controversy, it would seem you need to realize and accept that as a minister in the PCA, the PCA is always a part of your audience? How would you respond to that?
Yes. I'm realizing that with any public discussion, the PCA is also part of my audience. It's been a hard learning curve getting used to this. Memorial is on a unique mission field. Across the street is a university that is 30 percent Jewish. The Central Corridor of St. Louis is as secular as you get. The City of St. Louis votes over 90 percent Democrat. Christianity is viewed here as bigoted, homophobic and sexist. We have developed ministry and communication models that respond to that context. Until recently, we could focus on our local community without having to think about how our words might be heard in more conservative parts of the country.
For example, St. Louis Public Radio interviewed me recently about my book. My interviewer was intrigued because I don't fit the culture's categories. Her first question was to ask me how a gay atheist teenager fell in love with Jesus. She actually requested my testimony. When reader questions came in, the first one was, "BUT WHY CELIBACY???" Given that I was speaking to an NPR crowd with no sense of biblical authority, I explained that my study of the Bible leads me to believe Jesus wants me to offer him that, and that it would be a sin to violate my conscience.
Shortly later, I saw a tweet from a Christian expressing outrage that I said sexual ethics are just a matter of personal conscience. Of course I said no such thing. How I speak to a 'Gentile' NPR audience won't always be heard the same in a 'Jewish' PCA audience.
There's a reason we have four gospels. Each was contextualized for a different audience. But it's hard to do that today, when everything ends up online. I'm learning I have to step back and ask how this will be heard by others in my denomination.
I want to shift the focus a bit. You’ve faced so much scrutiny and criticism. You have to hurt. How are you doing?
Thanks for asking. I'm a guy who came to Jesus from a far-off country. I saw a field and bought it, and I have never once regretted following Jesus. That said, I have experienced a sometimes harsh and accusatory side from some fellow believers that God had previously protected me from seeing. So many people were passing along false reports through social media without checking to see whether the reports were true. I was hearing so much inflationary rhetoric. It was as if someone was trying to rally the villagers to grab their pitchforks and attack the monster. Only I was the monster. I discussed some of that in a piece I wrote about The Gay Threat to the PCA.
No matter how hard I tried to engage, reach out and clarify, it felt like using a thimble to bail water out of a sinking ship. There were online death threats. I don't think they were serious, but it was ugly. Nobody wants to wake up Sunday morning to “Die, faggot, die!” on Twitter, knowing I have to preach God's word in a couple hours.
I've cried more tears in the past four years than in the previous 45 years. That has been a new experience for me. There was a six month period in 2018 where I found myself crying every day, often tears of sorrow at the way I and people I care for were being treated, particularly online and on social media. But often those tears were simultaneously tears of joy because I was feeling my Father's love for me in the midst of it. I experience God's love for me now in a way that I had seldom experienced before. From my conversion in college, I had always believed God loved me. The Bible said so. But I've been able to really feel it in recent years. I wouldn't take away even one tear if it meant giving up that very personal knowledge of God. Overall, the hardship has been good for my soul. The Lord has met me in it. I remember saying in 2016 that I could count on one hand the number of times I had truly felt loved by God. Now, six years later, I can't say that anymore.
I am saddened and angry to know even just a part of the un-Christlike hate and slander you’ve had to endure. I’m thankful you have found strength and comfort from the Lord in the midst of this, but surely these challenges have hurt you?
Oh yes. There has been real damage done to me. The trauma-induced physical symptoms from being in the line of fire for so long have been significant. I'm only now starting to be able to turn my phone on in the morning without my chest tightening up in a wave of dread over what might be waiting for me. I am sure that I’ll be looking to a good counselor to help me work through the trauma of recent years.
At the same time, understand that I am nobody’s victim. God continually leads me in triumphal procession in Jesus. I'm more than a conqueror through him. I can be honest about the hardship—and at times abuse—I've experienced while knowing my savior loves me. He has given me joy in the face of all of this.
How has the controversy of the last several years affected members of your congregation? How has this made your local pastoral ministry more difficult? Conversely, are there any unexpected blessings that have come from all this in the midst of congregational ministry?
My congregation loves me. I and my Session have tried to shield them from a lot of this, but they have seen a lot. Our elders have been fasting and praying most Wednesdays since last July to intercede for the PCA and for our church. We have lost some people, and we have gained some others. We lost a number of our non-straight people after last summer's General Assembly. Memorial had the largest number of volunteers working at GA, so some of the discussion and voting was traumatic for our folks to watch. We have members who feel deep wounds from past church experience, and this has added new wounds to some.
You've published a book recently. Tell us about that. What are your hopes for that project?
Yes. Still Time to Care: What We Can Learn from the Church’s Failed Attempt to Cure Homosexuality came out in December with Zondervan. I wrote the book because I believe we, as the church, have an opportunity to win the next generation, but we will have to adjust our posture, particularly where non-straight people are concerned. The world is convinced that Christians hate gay people. This has become the apologetic issue of our day. The next generation is already leaving our churches because they look around and don’t see any repentant gay people in their church. They’ve noticed that the only time gay people are mentioned, the tone is negative. They've seen their parents' adversarial posture, and it has left a bad taste in their mouth. They haven’t seen the costly obedience of gay people turning to Jesus and telling them, “Jesus is worth it!”
We can change that.
The world is saying Christians hate gay people. Your children and grandchildren need to see you prove them wrong. The path forward is not a new sexual ethic. (That would shipwreck their souls.) The way forward is a renewed love. And a big part of that love requires stripping away some of the relics of the ex-gay movement, like the mandate on using the language of “struggling with same-sex attraction” that the conversion therapists popularized in the 2000s as part of their failed sexual conversion process. That language is fine for me to use in conservative church settings, but continuing to mandate that other people use it—no matter how well-intentioned we are—is often experienced as emotional abuse.
Jesus loves gay people. I’m still baffled when Christians find it so hard to say that. It was easier to say it in the 1970s, before the ex-gay movement, before the culture wars. And so in the book I tell that story about how an older generation of Christians—CS Lewis, Billy Graham, Francis Schaeffer, John Stott and others—sought to carve out a safe place within the church for gay people who follow Jesus. I want to help us as the church realize where we've failed our same-sex oriented members. I want to help us repent of that. There are repentant believers who felt pushed away. I believe the gospel opens up a safe space for us to turn to them and say that we’re sorry. With the gospel on our side, we can do better. I think a lot of Christian parents and grandparents, a lot of youth and campus ministers, and a lot of pastors and elders instinctively know that.
So that was one hope. To help us love better. That was one audience.
But there was another hope, another audience?
Yes, I also had another audience in mind. I had watched a number of young evangelical men read recent evangelical Side A “open and affirming” books by James Brownson and Karen Keen—both published by Eerdmans. These books convinced them that God would honor a monogamous ‘Christian’ gay marriage. I struggled to find print resources to counter Brownson’s and Keen's argument from cultural distance, Brownson’s redemptive movement hermeneutic with its emphasis on canonical trajectory, as well as the popular argument that the biblical sexual ethic is inherently violent to sexual minorities. Few of the resources I could find were addressing the actual questions people are asking in response to Side A / affirming arguments. Where sexuality is concerned, Western culture is a million miles from where it was when I was coming of age in the 1980s.
For young believers wrestling through these questions, I wanted to provide a friendly resource to help them see the true and beautiful biblical vision for sexuality. I also wanted to help young straight believers see the same thing. God is not being unfair to people like me by saying no to gay marriage. As a shepherd, I hope to see them steered away from danger.
A lot of campus and young adult workers have told me this was the book that has resonated with those they serve.
That was my audience. Thoughtful Christians, pastors and ministry leaders who are looking for a biblical paradigm for pastoral care unshaped by the false promises of a defunct ex-gay movement (and adversarial posture of the culture war). And same-sex attracted believers who are finding themselves tempted by recent affirming arguments—as well as their straight friends.
How has the book been received?
I had some good endorsements early on from Dr. Richard Winter, from Todd Wilson of The Center For Pastor Theologians, Wheaton's Mark Yarhouse, Ed Shaw of Living Out and others. Since publication, the book has picked up a strong endorsement from former Westminster Theological Seminary president Sam Logan and also one from Tim Keller among others. I thought The Gospel Coalition gave it a fair and positive—though not always uncritical—review. Admittedly, they thought the dust jacket confusing. (I left that to the marketing folks at Zondervan.) And they would have liked more discussion of how progressive sanctification works, as well as a critical discussion of orientation as a category. My editor already made me cut the book by a third, so some topics will have to await an article somewhere. And I did discuss the science of sexual orientation as it currently stands.
Beyond our conservative Reformed circles, I recently participated in training over nine hundred Nazarene and Wesleyan Holiness ministry leaders in ministry to the LGBTQ community. Many evangelicals are ready for a paradigm that is theologically deeper than the old ex-gay approach, yet missiologically better contextualized for our North American mission field.
The book—with all I've experienced—has also given me the opportunity to talk about the gospel in some very secular spaces. My story doesn’t fit the reigning cultural categories of the day. I'm praying that some who otherwise might not listen, might be enabled to hear about Jesus from me—perhaps because I'm the last person in the world from which they'd expect to hear about Jesus.
I guess that's really my hope. That gay people and the people who love them will experience the joy, salvation and new direction that comes when Jesus comes crashing into your life.
One side of all this that I think many of your critics don’t hear or understand is how people outside of the traditional/conservative/evangelical/whatever camp perceive you. What has the reception of your book been like in the Side A camp? What has the reception of you and your positions been in the non-believing LGBTQ+ community?
Some appreciate that I provide the history of what they lived through, but they disagree with my views on sexuality. Ralph Blair of Evangelicals Concerned gave it a critical endorsement for that reason.
At Memorial, we have a complicated relationship with the LGBTQ+ community. When we hosted Revoice18, activists threatened to picket our church. A group of liberal pastors published an open letter denouncing us and saying we were not welcome in St. Louis. To them, celibacy is Conversion Therapy 2.0.
At the same time, I have been able to reach out to some of these same activists and spend time with them. They are often curious about why I became a Christian. They've asked me. We also have served many LGBTQ+ artists and musicians through the years. So they might threaten to picket us, but they also trust us enough to receive our hospitality.
I know you’ve answered some questions more times than you would like to count, but for the sake of brevity, clarity, conciseness, and simply to have them all in one spot - can I ask some straightforward questions that are at the heart of some people’s concern and uncertainty about where you stand?
It's all in the SJC report, which you can link to from the ByFaith article announcing the ruling.
As I said, I know you’ve actually answered some of these questions ad nauseum. However, pastor to pastor, that’s a long document that the average person will get lost in. It’s probably unfair to press you to reanswer questions you’ve already answered many times. However, I do think a brief clear response to some of these is worth putting out there again.
Is homoerotic longing sinful?
Yes. In the language of WCF 6, it is a motion of the corrupt nature and therefore a sinful temptation. It is a motion that should die for the lack of a second. Original sin and its motions are properly called sin. Like Paul says, "Wherever I go, sin is right there with me." Of course, as a privation of the good, sin always twists or distorts natural longings for intimacy, love and friendship.
All of this can also be said about heteroerotic longing outside of marriage.
Do you call yourself a Gay Christian? Why or why not?
No. I have chosen to avoid that couplet because many believers think that you're therefore saying that your Christianity is "gay." The phrase gay Christian—notice the G is not capitalized—can mean very different things to different people, and so there are good reasons many of us avoid it, myself included. In my book, I also note that it has historical connection to the Gay Christian Movement, a since-renamed affirming organization in the UK.
But my position all along has been that I will not judge someone else for using the phrase.
I think one could make the argument that the AIC report overstated its case when it stated that to “juxtapose identities rooted in sinful desires alongside the term Christian is inconsistent with biblical language.” To a Jew in the first century, to be a Gentile was to be defined by sinful desires. Gentiles were “separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world” (Ephesians 2:12). To have a Gentile identity was to be defined as an enemy of God. Paul writes, “So I tell you this, and insist on it in the Lord, that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking” (Ephesians 4:17).
At the same time, in Acts 15:23, the apostles and elders write a letter: “The apostles and elders, your brothers, To the Gentile believers.” Again in Acts 21:25, “As for the Gentile believers, we have written to them our decision that they should abstain….” So for this reason, my sense is that we might risk going beyond scripture if we say a sinful identity can never be redeemed and used as a personal descriptor alongside Christian.
So no, I do not use the couplet Gay Christian in reference to myself. My reasons have to do with my wanting to be understood in my context.
But I'm not judging anyone else.
Do you have other areas of disagreement with the AIC report?
Well, I was the only elder to speak against it at GA last year. However, my disagreements are not with its doctrine of sin.
I realize the committee may have felt constrained by the limitations of their task as defined by the General Assembly. But I still would have hoped for a document that spoke to people instead of only speaking about them. I would have hoped for a clear statement that Jesus loves gay people. The report mentioned the wounds many same-sex attracted believers have experienced from the church, but it didn't describe those wounds, discuss how they continue to happen, or ask for forgiveness. And pastorally, the biggest issues same-sex attracted people in the church struggle with are shame and loneliness, I would have hoped for more on these areas of our lived reality. Addressing those biblically is an essential part of mortifying homoerotic sin. Granted, this may all have gone beyond the committee's mandate. I get that. I can't fault them for doing something they weren't tasked to do.
As a consensus document, the AIC report accurately describes where the PCA is today. But I long for better. I see these as missed pastoral opportunities.
Do you think it’s possible, by the gracious work of the Holy Spirit, for some with a homosexual experience of orientation to come to a legitimate attraction, sexual and otherwise, to a member of the opposite sex?
Of course. It has happened to friends of mine. It's not typically a change from gay to straight, in that a man's new attraction to his wife isn't usually generalized to other women. But it does happen. I discuss this in my book.
For those who don’t ever experience such an attraction to a member of the opposite sex, what might progress in sanctification practically look like?
It would look the same as with a straight believer. Straight men don't stop being attracted to women God hasn't given them. But we all by grace can learn to fight our temptations. You look the other way, you try not to store up images for later recall, you avoid locations that occasion temptation, you pursue accountability, you get off porn, maintain chastity, and seek to develop non-sexual relationships in which you are known, thereby weakening temptation's pull.
In his Mortification of Sin, John Owen insists that no sin is ever eradicated in this life. It always remains. That's why we must constantly work to mortify our sin."To mortify a sin is not utterly to kill, root it out, and destroy it, that it should have no more hold at all nor residence in our hearts. It is true that this is that which is aimed at; but this is not in this life accomplished… An utter killing and destroying of it, that it should not be, is not in this life to be expected."
Personally, I think sexual temptation has less pull on me than it did thirty years ago. A cynic would say that's just aging. But I would prefer to credit the Holy Spirit.
As we conclude this interview, I want to give you a hypothetical situation. If they were guaranteed to hear you with Christian charity what would you say to the following groups in the PCA:
Your harshest critics.
Read my book.
Those who are confused and concerned about where you actually stand.
Please read my book, then see if you still have questions. Or read the SJC's ruling in the case involving me. You can link to it from ByFaith.
Those who’ve defended you and then felt thrown under the bus by subsequent comments you’ve made (or that were made in your name by a publisher).
I can only reiterate that I am sorry.
Those struggling with same-sex attraction.
God sees you. As he looks upon you now, he is filled with tenderness. Jesus is worth it.
Those with children or grandchildren embracing a gay identity and/or lifestyle?
Buy Bill Henson's book Guiding Families of LGBT Loved Ones. It's not Reformed, but it's the best step-by-step guide you will find.
Greg, thank you for your time. Thank you for your willingness to expose yourself to potential criticism yet again. Though you and I have had, and still have, our disagreements; one thing that has bothered me most over the past few years has been how freely, even eagerly, people have misrepresented your words and positions. Yes, you have made mistakes, and I’m encouraged by your admission and owning of some of that here. However, none of those mistakes or missteps provide an excuse for the slander committed against you. I hope the dialogue above can provide some clarity and context for those willing to listen and consider what you actually think as opposed to what they’ve heard that you do.
