Are Adventists Queer Enough?

by Shelley Curtis Weaver  |  14 March 2025  |

I’ve lived long enough to recall a time when a preacher might have jokingly said, “We Adventists are a queer bunch!”

Mostly, though, we used a different word: we said we were a “peculiar people”—and we expressed a good deal of pride in our peculiarity. 

Language is fluid. The usage of the word “queer” has changed. Like the word “gay,” it’s almost always used now to describe a certain sexual identity. 

The church has changed too, including expectations of what it means to be a Seventh-day Adventist. Adventists are no longer exclusively citizens of the United States. They are no longer mostly rural, nor vegetarian, nor pacifist or even noncombatant. Our missionaries mixed cultures with differing regional needs into the recipe of Adventism. Now, although we share similar traditions, jargon, and some doctrines, there is no single type of believer within our church. 

What defines us?

In response to these growing pains, the church appears to be worrying less about being peculiar and different from the world. The focus now is how to keep an increasingly diverse church united and intact. There are forces pulling in contrary directions. Modern Adventists have divorced and remarried. Some have entered movie theaters, applied makeup, sipped on Colas, and donned wedding rings. 

Perhaps in response to such cultural changes, church leaders appear to be pushing back. In the past several years—most notably since the 2015 General Conference vote on women’s ordination—the answer to “What is an Adventist?” seems to be tightening again. 

The loudest “no” is voiced to the question, “Are Adventists queer?” That is, do people who identify as LGBTQ belong in fellowship and worship with the rest of us with our more-acceptable differences? Whether church members like it or not, the question about “what to do with” people who proudly identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer, pansexual, asexual, or intersex remains on the table. 

Our point of greatest discomfort seems to arise in the area of leadership. Some of us can accept the idea of LGBTQ folks worshiping with us—perhaps even being members on the church books (along with the dozens/hundreds who haven’t attended in years). But we struggle with letting them lead a class, play the organ, or serve as deacon, elder, or Sabbath school leader.

In a sort of extreme version of “don’t ask, don’t tell,” we balk when they become visible as the persons they actually are. 

Leadership and change

I’ve written before about the many ways we have misunderstood and mismanaged leadership, and how the celebrity culture of pastoring and evangelism can hurt mental wellbeing and personal integrity. What also bears critique is our expectation that leaders have arrived at a state of spiritual perfection. To the contrary: when leadership is done well, there are few other roles that can grow and change us more.

Good leaders accept being stretched to their fullest. Making difficult decisions, brokering misunderstandings, facilitating communication and cooperation—these things are hard work, and demand that we reach into the deepest parts of us. In leadership, a wise person discovers her or his own impatience, ignorance, stubbornness, carelessness. Wise leaders realize that they are often wrong.  We learn which tasks we dread, what details we’d rather ignore, and what must change for us to honor our conscience and God’s call to “live and move and find our being.”

Why then are Adventist leaders so afraid to welcome the very group they claim needs radical revision into fellowship and leadership? Why block the opportunity? At a time when people struggle with the concept of spirituality or belief, why block the doors to LGBTQ Adventists who still find God and meaning in our churches and schools? Are we like Jonah— afraid that God will follow through with reconciliation and mercy, making our concerns and warnings seem foolish? 

But do our LGBTQ+ friends even need to change? Perhaps all this backlash reveals our fear that the few texts appearing to condemn atypical sexuality and gender identity will turn out to be one of the flaws in our understanding.

We do pick and choose among the texts. We’ve already rejected an earth-centric solar system, slavery, stoning wrong-doers, killing babies in combat, and a long list of minor laws in Leviticus that seem cruel, inhumane, or foolish to us now.

What if gender and sexuality belongs in that list of things misunderstood by the scripture writers grappling to describe God and human reality? We are whole beings composed of complex mental, physical, and spiritual components. 

Consider how little we’ve known about our physical bodies alone up until the last century. What if we should find that the traits of the LGBTQ+ community are only a natural part of the complex expression of humanity?

Defining moments

Most recently, issues of honesty and visibility have impacted the students of Walla Walla University. A young man running for Student Association president was told his name would be removed from the ballot because he has not hidden the fact that he is gay and in a relationship. Among the reasons given was the excuse that campaigning or winning might put him in danger, and that being dismissed was for his own protection. At best, this is a dubious claim. This student was apparently viewed as so capable and so acceptable that he had no opponents on the ballot. 

If the danger is real, the university has a more significant problem on its hands: urgent action should begin immediately to teach the student body about respect, tolerance, self-control, nonviolence, problem-solving, and basic human decency. The threat of violence is a more pressing concern than worrying about the message it would send to have an openly gay ASWWU president. 

Perhaps the question is not “Are Adventists Queer?” but “Are Adventists Queer Enough?” The message a church or school sends is important—I cannot quarrel with my alma mater on that point. But banning LGBTQ members and leaders is no unique or courageous stance. Such exclusion is common in most denominations.

One of Adventism’s core principles has been to seek truth and be people of the truth. We would honor that principle and amplify that message by allowing our members to stand in the truth of who they are. In a world of violence, at a time when some churches hold signs and chant hate speech at God’s LBGTQ children, the real mark of a peculiar people would be for this world to see a gay student live honestly as his true self, and serve as a respected and trusted leader in an Adventist school.

Shelley Curtis Weaver lives in coastal Washington state. She is a clay-artist, writer, wife, mother, grandmother, and a frequenter of Columbia River crossings. She has edited and contributed to The Journey to Wholeness addiction recovery curriculum from AdventSource.

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