These responses were prepared for a public dialogue at Berry College in February 2026 about Christian faith, human sexuality, Scripture, and the life of the Church. They reflect my personal story, theological convictions, and hopes for how Christians can approach difficult disagreements. My goal was not to minimize our differences, but to speak with honesty, humility, and love while treating one another as people made in the image of God.

A season ago I posted a video sharing why I believe God’s wisdom for our sexualities is worth following. I anchored that reflection in Proverbs 4 and Matthew 7. Proverbs 4 tells us to seek wisdom, love wisdom, and hold onto wisdom because wisdom guards us. It portrays wisdom not merely as information but as a protective gift—something that keeps us from harm and guides us into life.

Church potluck table conversations increasingly include the latest cable news story about trans athletes or drag story times. Christians find it difficult to avoid political arguments about trans topics. The U.S. Supreme Court heard a trans case in 2025, deliberating whether states can prohibit minors from medical transition.

Back in early 2023, I wrote an article for Equip calling celibate partnerships (committed non-sexual, sometimes-romantic companionship between two Christians) unnecessarily risky.

Asking a celibate guy for advice on intimacy feels, to many, like asking a vegetarian to judge a barbecue competition. But that assumption says more about our cultural scripts than it does about celibacy.

A widely debunked documentary called “1946” has been making the rounds claiming that translators added a prohibition against gay sex to the Bible during a 1946 round of English translation updates. Here’s the truth: nothing changed about the original text or its translated meaning in 1946.

Gen Z is anxious and lonely. What if God already knows your people and purpose?

I’ve shared before that I’m in sexual addiction recovery (and that it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m gay or celibate). I’m grateful the Lord has helped me make real progress toward sobriety. But over the years, there have been slip-ups. Here’s what helps me rebound after a slip-up.

It’s a question I hear often from LGBT+ people and allies who feel frustrated by what the Bible seems to say about sexuality. That God sounds like a buzzkill. Or worse, controlling.

If you’re an LGBT+ Christian and trying to walk out celibacy but you feel like your convictions are starting to slip, maybe this sounds familiar. And maybe it’s helpful.

Colorado’s "conversion therapy" ban got its day before the Supreme Court. Hopefully, it was its last.

If your church has used hell to scare you into celibacy, I’m sorry. That’s not the gospel. A guy recently DMed me on instagram wondering whether he would go to hell if he married a man (and died without specifically repenting of any gay s*x he engaged in).

Earlier this spring, the other guys in NFOB and I started discerning an invitation from the Lord to pivot to a different kind of intentional Christian community. NFOB was limited to people living in the same house, only for men called to lifetime celibacy, and pushed guys toward lifetime commitments.

I get this push-back (and similar) often. They argue that it would be cruel for God to call every Christian to abstinence outside of Christian marriage, regardless of how lonely they are or how unavailable faithful suitors are or what their sexual orientation is.

A friend who no longer identifies as a Christian recently asked me, “Why would God not bless my gay marriage? What’s so wrong with gay sex?” If you’re a gay person trying to make sense of spirituality and sexuality, I have a heady theological answer. But to be honest, my first answer was: I don’t know.

If you’re a gay person trying to make sense of spirituality and sexuality, I hope this helps. When I hang out with friends who don’t believe in God, or who have been deeply hurt by the Church, our conversations eventually land on the big question: why do I even believe God exists?

If you’ve been told Jesus should be enough for single Christians, read this. Ryan Holland recently asked me about this on the Holy Heartbreak Podcast where we talked about the call to singleness and the ache of loneliness. Here’s what I shared:

When the U.S. Supreme Court upheld Tennessee’s ban on puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, and surgery for minors (United States v. Skrmetti, 18 June 2025),¹ the decision was widely reported as a clash between conservative lawmakers and transgender advocates. Less attention fell on the division it exposed within pro-transition rhetoric. Within a single afternoon, two sharply different protest statements arrived in my inbox. One lamented that the court had “erased trans kids,” because some children are girls trapped in boys’ bodies and therefore need swift medical intervention. A second statement expressed concern that the ruling reinforced what it called “colonial fictions,” suggesting that rigid notions of male and female can be limiting and deserve re-examination.

The real problem with purity culture wasn’t its commitment to abstinence. It was its promise of marriage.

That line from Eve Tushnet has stuck with me for years.