Reviewed by: Kara Applegate

Bibliographic Information: Chu, Jeff. Does Jesus Really Love Me? A Gay Christian's Pilgrimage in Search of God in America. New York, NY: Harper Perennial, 2015. 384 pages. $15.99. ISBN: 9780062049742.

Summary

Why is there such a range of opinions on homosexuality among Christians, despite their claim to follow the same God and the same Word? This is the question Jeff Chu set out to answer during a year-long pilgrimage around the United States in which he interviewed Christians across all sides of the theological spectrum, from the Westboro Baptist Church to the mostly gay congregation of the Metropolitan Community Church. Along the way, Chu also hoped to answer his own questions about the nature of God and faith and how both intersected with his own identity—hence the title of the book: Does Jesus Really Love Me? After traveling through twenty-eight states, Chu writes that America “deeply wants to love, but is conflicted about how to do so” (8). This conflict has caused wounds in all sides of the argument, and although all of Chu’s interviewees want to follow God, their efforts to do so take vastly different forms.  

Chu divides his journey into four different stages: Doubting, Struggling, Reconciling, and Hoping. Those in the Doubting section are mostly conservatives who speak of the LGBTQ+ community in dehumanizing ways and seem to have little interest in compromise. The next section, titled “Struggling,” focuses on those who feel dissatisfied with their sexuality and turn to reorientation organizations, mixed-orientation marriages, or celibacy. Also included among the Struggling are churches facing internal debate about LGBTQ+ issues, as well as churches excluded from their denomination for being affirming. While the first two sections concentrate on negative responses from the Christian community, the Reconciling and Hoping sections describe a more optimistic future for LGBTQ+ Christians in affirming congregations and organizations such as the Gay Christian Network (now the Q Christian Fellowship).    

Analysis

Throughout his journey, Chu concludes that the American church is almost hopelessly divided over LGBTQ+ inclusion, a point which is demonstrated repeatedly by the variety of views on display in his book. Chu’s interviews include, on the conservative end of the spectrum, leaders of a branch of the Southern Baptist Convention and the Westboro Baptist Church. On the liberal side, Chu visits, for example, the Metropolitan Community Church, which is the only denomination in the world made up of mostly LGBTQ+ members (285). Also featured are LGBTQ+ people in a variety of situations, some of whom have left the church and some of whom have found congregations to call home. It is difficult to hear such different stories and come away believing that there are only the two options of affirming and non-affirming. Thus, Chu’s conclusion is almost inescapable—as is the division of the church, or so it seems based on the array of opinions portrayed in his interviews.  

In fact, even the way people act on the same opinion differs: the Westboro Baptist Church responds hatefully, whereas Pete Wilson, who is also non-affirming, makes his megachurch welcoming (28). By including so many differing points of view, Chu effectively argues that the issue is more nuanced than it appears at first glance, which causes the church to divide even further. Chu writes that the church has “shown itself to be incapable of dealing with who we are and where we are” and that the body of Christ has become “our Lord’s dismembered and terribly dishonored remains” (342–343). Although this conclusion seems cynical, it is also a natural one, given the range of Christian responses to queer existence. Thus, Chu’s interpretation of the state of the church is well supported by the book’s evidence—it is difficult to imagine that the administration of the non-affirming Harding University, for example, would ever accept the population of queer students on its campus.  

So, the American church is disunited because of queer issues—this is obvious even to outsiders who have not taken a year-long journey of discovery. But does Chu answer his driving question of why this issue is so polarizing? And does he answer the more important title question: Does Jesus really love me? The answer to both questions, apparently, “depends on whom you ask” (346). For Chu, Jesus’ love is sure, yet it cannot be kept secret—it must be shared in a way that invites communion among believers. This, too, is clear from the stories told in the book. Churches and communities that leave room for pluralism while keeping their doors wide open to all, such as Highlands Church in Denver, Colorado, are seen to thrive, even though members may disagree with one another. This, it seems, is the kind of love that Chu finds absent from many of the churches he visits, which further splinters the body of Christ. However, the few places in which Chu observes love at work reinforce his belief in a God of justice and compassion and motivate him to “be a more productive and constructive part of the body of believers that does exist” (347). Perhaps this is the true argument of the book, beyond simply seeing the church’s disunity—that God can work through the church anyway and, in the end, “redeem all this” (345).    

Assessment

The stories in Does Jesus Really Love Me? are indeed compelling, and they present a fascinating, multifaceted picture of the American church. The extent of disunity in the church is clear to any reader, and though it may be a discouraging conclusion, it is not an inaccurate one. However, there is a more hopeful view of the situation. Despite disagreements, some communities create space for change and disagreement, such as the Highlands Church mentioned above. The Evangelical Covenant Church, a small denomination, is another such community. It allows a considerable amount of freedom within the denomination; for example, pastors must affirm women’s ordination but are not obligated to call women into leadership (182). In these churches, unity is possible because there are opportunities for differences of opinion that do not draw hard lines between members. Churches like Covenant prove that disunity is not the end of the church; these schisms can be healed.  

However, while encountering examples such as Highlands Church and the Covenant Church, readers must wrestle with the balance between unity and safety. Chu seems to mourn the church’s discord, yet he also affirms the decisions of some queer people to walk away from the church entirely. Others show a great deal of grace to their non-affirming families and congregations, but they do not receive much grace in return. This is an area in which Chu’s case-by-case approach shines; what works for one church in one place may cause schisms in another. Similarly, queer Christians must be able to decide individually whether to sacrifice their comfort for unity or whether they should choose to leave the church. Unity must not be achieved at the expense of LGBTQ+ Christians’ well-being. However, I have more hope than Chu seems to have for the future of the church. In many places, queer Christians and allies are doing the work of changing the church, and pluralistic communities show that grace can unite people on both sides of the issue. As churches become more loving through the work of the Holy Spirit, this grace will continue to grow, as we can see in the several affirming churches that Chu visits.   

Reflection

My reaction to this book is colored by my own experience, which places me in the same situation as everyone whose story it tells. During this past year, I began attending an Anglican church, which I later discovered was non-affirming. In fact, it only existed because it broke off from an affirming church nearby. When I discovered this, I was already attached to the community and was attending church more regularly than I had in the past five years. I was torn between leaving to find a church where I would feel welcome or staying as an act of simultaneous defiance and forgiveness.  

While reading Does Jesus Really Love Me?, I wrestled with this question again. Is it better to prioritize unity or justice in the church, and is love enough to create a middle ground where the body of Christ remains one and all its members are accepted? I am no closer to answering this question, but Chu’s book reminded me of the importance of personal stories in finding an answer. Squabbles over doctrine are, in the end, useless if we do not love one another. Although this love may take different forms depending on who you ask, it is much easier—indeed, almost natural—to love someone after hearing their story. Thus, the value of this book is not only its portrayal of the difference of opinion in the church, but also its commitment to truthfully telling stories.  

Therefore, I would recommend Does Jesus Really Love Me? to anyone interested in the issue of LGBTQ+ inclusion in the church. Many points of view are presented, and though Chu’s gay identity influences his reactions, the interviews themselves are honest and thoughtful. I would, however, caution readers to be aware of the language used to talk about bisexual and transgender individuals. Chu frequently writes “gay and lesbian” instead of LGBTQ+, which contributes to erasure of some identities. Additionally, there are some discussions of transgender people that use the wrong pronouns. With these critiques in mind, however, Does Jesus Really Love Me? is a valuable portrait of the diversity of the body of Christ and the importance of personal experience in moving towards a more loving, more open-minded church.