Christian Sexual Ethics and Everyday Sacredness: Voices of Young Black People with Diverse Sexual Identities

Abstract

Christian ethics are often associated with dichotomies such as right versus wrong, good versus evil, and moral versus immoral. How do young Black people with diverse sexual identities who also embrace Christianity understand such ethics? What constitutes Christian ethics for people who live on the margins and are often vilified for their racial and sexual identities? This mixed-methodological study considers these questions for a group of 76 young Black members of the LGBTQIA community aged 18–30 years old. The study is also designed to theorize and apply the concept of everyday sacredness as an ethos to illuminate the religious and spiritual experiences of Black sexual minorities. Three themes emerge that focus on ethical expectations. The initial theme reflects common questions about historic and present-day unethical practices in certain Black churches linked to homophobia and heterosexism found in current studies. The second, more spiritually focused theme, presents agape love as an ethical response to all God’s creation. The final practically focused theme emphasizes holistic health as an ethical response to health inequities in the Black LGBTQIA community.

1. Christian Sexual Ethics and Everyday Sacredness: Voices of Young Black People with Diverse Sexual Identities

Christian ethics are often associated with dichotomies such as right versus wrong, good versus evil, and moral versus immoral. What constitutes Christian ethics for groups that live on the margins and are often mistreated based on their racial and/or sexual identities? Specifically, how do young Black people with diverse sexual identities who embrace Christianity and/or spirituality understand such ethics relative to the Black Church? Informed by content analysis, this study considers these questions for a group of 76 young Black members of the LGBTQIA community aged 18–30 years old. The study is also designed to theorize and apply a concept I have coined, everyday sacredness (Barnes 2023a), as an ethos to illuminate the religious and spiritual experiences of Black sexual minorities. This endeavor also documents whether individuals consider themselves religious and/or spiritual, their views about God and the Black Church, tensions between reconciling Christian ethics and their sexual identities, and whether and how concepts such as agape love and holistic health inform their views about Christian ethics. Findings include representative quotes, scriptural references, and experiences to assess everyday sacredness as an epistemological bridge to help explain aspects of Christian ethics. In addition to documenting the voices of an often under-represented population, this analysis is important for several reasons. First, it broadens Christian ethics by considering the sentiments of a cadre of Black sexual minorities. Moreover, I endeavor to consider more emotive aspects of the experiences of young Black members of the LGBTQIA community beyond the common foci on HIV/AIDS and sexual behavior. Lastly, this study offers insights into possible more universalistic concerns among Black sexual minorities that illustrate whether and how some of their ethical concerns parallel those of their peers outside this community.

2. Black People with Diverse Sexual Identities: A Summary

Studies document trials among Black people who embrace diverse sexual identities due to forces such as sexism, racism, and classism (Dangerfield et al. 2019; Greenway et al. 2022; Hunter 2010). Homophobia, heteronormativity, stigma, and stereotypes undermine positive identity development and quality of life (Arnold et al. 2014; Arscott et al. 2020; Barnes 2023b; Center for Disease Control [CDC] 2020; English et al. 2020; Staples 2006; Raifman et al. 2019). Racism and heterosexism can also increase the chances of internal homophobia; moreover, the desire for affection may fuel increased risky behavior (Garcia et al. 2016). In addition to challenges associated with one’s sexuality, individuals contend with many of the same economic and non-economic challenges their non-LGBTQIA peers face, but often without the safety nets. Yet Black sexual minorities are more apt to experience limited health services and health disparities such as disproportionate rates of HIV/AIDS and other STIs (Alessi et al. 2020; Barnes 2020; Center for Disease Control [CDC] 2020; Dacus et al. 2018; English et al. 2020; Moore et al. 2019).

Equally important are their triumphs as well as the intrinsic and extrinsic dynamics that foster them. Welcoming and affirming families, friends, fictive kin, and networks can reduce the effects of homophobia and help buffer negative experiences (Arscott et al. 2020; Barnes 2023a, 2023b; Dangerfield et al. 2019; English et al. 2020). Further, the lives of Black sexual minorities are enhanced by support from the LGBTQIA community and allies as well as resources to combat economic constraints (Balaji et al. 2012; Price-Feeney et al. 2020). Equally salient, people who feel personally empowered tend to experience a better quality of life (Barnes 2023a; Hunter 2010; James and Moore 2005). Moreover, religion, including Christianity, can have a significant influence on their lives. For example, religious affiliations have been correlated with exposure to homophobic biblical interpretations and imagery as well as stigma, resulting in increased internal homophobia (Barnes 2023b; Douglas 1999; Garcia et al. 2016; Pinn and Hopkins 2024; Sorett 2022; Staples 2006; Watkins et al. 2016; Young 2023). Yet certain religious affiliations have been linked to healthier sexual decision-making, personal empowerment, and improved quality of life (Balaji et al. 2012; Barnes 2023a; Dangerfield et al. 2019; Foster et al. 2011; Lefevor et al. 2020; Quinn et al. 2015). In light of these diverse ecologies, this endeavor adds to existing studies by considering how Christian ethics are understood for a group of young Black people with varied sexual identities.

3. Christian Ethics and Sexuality: A Summary

Christian ethics reflects the study of moral life informed by scripture, specifically the Great Commandments in Matthew 22:37–40 to love God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and to love your neighbor as yourself. Ethicists consider the degree to which the attitudes and behavior of believers, non-believers, and society, in general, adhere to these principles. Yet the very nature of what can be considered ethical (i.e., ethical as normative or morally good) can be ambiguous, contradictory, and misunderstood in light of theologies, societal influences, and human tendency toward self-interest. This summary documents seminal work about Christian ethics as a means to explore the topic for a cadre of young Black members of the LGBTQIA community.

Niebuhr’s (1932) seminal work details the inherent immorality of society in contrast to individual morality and the importance of laws to combat egoistic abuses of power; “society remains man’s great fulfillment and his great frustration…we have noted that self-deception and hypocrisy is an unvarying element in the moral life of all human beings” (pp. 82, 95). Niebuhr’s pragmatic response suggests that sin and self-interest make group-led conflict inevitable; yet human agency, at its best, can turn the tide on immorality. Yet like other White ethicists of his day, his stance on addressing racial injustice was often conservative. Lehmann (1976) suggests that ecologies inform ethics. To know how God expects one to act requires discerning how God is working in the human condition. Thus, ethical decisions that foster koinonia (i.e., fellowship or community) are fueled by societal needs as one endeavors to model Christ. Yet Black ethicists contend that emphasis on universal themes is insufficient when examining the diverse experiences of marginalized groups.

Hollinger (2009, p. 171) admits that homosexuality is one of the most divisive issues facing religion that reflects “polarizing hostilities that are not easily overcome [but]… we’re not only dealing with an ethical issue; we’re dealing with human beings.” Christian sexual ethicist Thielicke (1964, p. 19) offers a response: “the sexuality of man cannot be explained simply in terms of the biological aspect of his nature (bios)… the biological aspect is thoroughly integrated in the humanum; and the humanum lives and moves and has its being in the divinum (emphasis is his).” But it is common for White ethicists to directly or indirectly frame homosexuality as a problem (Hollinger 2009; Jordan 2002; Thielicke 1964).

Groundbreaking work by Black ethicist Sneed (2010, p. 180) offers a definition germane here: “Ethics is human reflection on moral choices within the realms of human conduct. Further, ethical reflection, as an intellectual discipline focuses on theorizing about the causes, means, and ends of ethics…concerned primarily with human endeavors and strivings.” His ethics of openness requires reflection on what should be considered moral, emphasis on humanism, and centers human flourishing, positivity, and peace. For Sneed and others, White Christian ethicists tend to ignore or criticize what constitutes ethical behavior for groups such as Black women and Black sexual minorities. For example, Douglas (2015, p. 50) posits that ethics related to sexuality must “identify the social-cultural conceptions that coalesce to deem the Black body—especially the Black male body—as not just inferior to the White body but as a threat to it. These conceptions depict the Black body as chattel, hypersexual, and dangerous.” And rather than consider sexual diversity a threat, Jordan (2002) challenges ethicists to: focus on how sexual minorities understand ethics; avoid formulaic understandings of behavior; and consider the influence of historicity. He queries, “how can Christian ethics be persuasive, and even authoritative without becoming abusive and even tyrannical?” (Jordan 2002, p. 19).

Womanist ethicist, Townes’ (2006) pivotal research also encourages a focus on particularities that provide context for understanding the nuanced lives of oppressed groups. She invites counter-memories that assess under-studied histories rather than dominant narratives that commodify Black bodies; “Womanist ethical thought…explores the magnitude and scope of the diversity of Black identities, so that we do not commit the gross errors of stereotype and sentimentalization that are often forced on our communities” to counter hegemony, homophobia, heterosexism, racism, and intra-racial complicity (Townes 2006, p. 53). When marginalized groups cannot share their stories, the consequences are dire for both them and society (Cannon 2006; Floyd-Thomas 2006), and stall the ability to counter the following ethical quandary; “whatever favorite White advantage was ‘good’ and whatever attended toward Black advantage, Black freedom and rebellion, became a ‘sin’” (Thomas, as quoted in Ross 2006, p. 119).

Similarly, in Cone’s (1997) landmark text, God of the Oppressed, he questions Christian ethics that do not require oppressors to be held accountable. For him, Christian ethics must include a liberating dimension that correlates theology and ethics such that ethical decisions are informed by a God-driven imperative to eliminate all forms of oppression. He posits that biblical stories and the life of Christ provide evidence that God is the God of the oppressed. Like Townes, Cone (1997, p. 184) suggests that a preoccupation with universals means certain societal ills have gone uncontested:

White theologians and ethicists simply ignore Black people by suggesting that the problem of racism and oppression is only one social expression of a larger ethical concern…it is an ethics of the status quo…despite slavery, lynching, sit-ins, and boycotts, White ethicists have not made the problem of racial oppression a central issue in their theological discourse.

For Cone and ethicists like him, work by Niebuhr and Lehman is valuable but too narrow in its understanding of how ethics can manifest diversely. Germane to everyday sacredness is the value of the voices of marginalized people such that Christian ethics is not distinct from Christian sexual ethics because like race, class, and gender, sexuality is a salient dimension of humanity.

Ultimately, more inclusive ethical work means: avoiding absolutes that do not consider the contexts of decision-making; normalizing the experiences of marginalized people; embracing diverse forms of truth telling; accepting accountability for unethical behavior; informing ethics based on real struggles that people face; embracing a liberating imperative; and embedding heritage and historicity in analyses. Additionally, the Black Church must be involved and accountable during this process as “a real conserver of morals, a strengthener of family life, and the final authority of what is Good and Right” (Du Bois [1953] 1996, p. 195). Further, ethics that consider the Black experience will: illumine how religion is practiced and evolves overtime; welcome critical reasoning across social and political domains; refuse to overemphasize piety at the expense of the innate value of humanity; extend grace and mercy to human frailty; and, thoughtfully and equally consider the needs and concerns of all humanity (Cannon 2006; Cone 1997, 2000; Du Bois [1953] 1996; Floyd-Thomas 2006; Ross 2006; Thomas 2004; Townes 2006). But what do Christian ethics mean to young Black sexual minorities? And how does everyday sacredness inform their sentiments?

4. Everyday Sacredness as an Ethos

Everyday sacredness refers to a worldview that enables Black people with diverse sexual identities1 to embrace a sense of intrinsic value, unconditional self-love, personal agency, purpose, and freedom. The concept emerged during the on-going process of content analysis (refer to the Analytical Approach for a description of this process) of hundreds of interview transcripts and surveys, as my research partners shared their stories. I provide the primary features of this ethos here (for details, refer to Barnes 2023a). For Black sexual minorities here, being true to oneself (i.e., often described as “living or telling one’s truth”) is crucial to holistic living. The resulting wisdom encourages increased honesty with themselves, other people, and with God/Higher Power.

This search for the sacred is continual and includes spiritual, psychological, and emotional reflection; introspection; and, for many people, re-socialization to identify, understand and squelch the effects of negative childhood religious and non-religious experiences (Thurman 1999, 2007). Learning and sometimes unlearning beliefs are key. Everyday sacredness is not conditioned on theological interpretations, religious tenets, or good deeds, but posits that, as one of God’s creation, Black members of the LGBTQIA community are valuable just because. Individuals take solace in knowing that God recognizes their innate holiness and will never abandon them—even if members of society do (James and Moore 2005). This stance emerges both attitudinally and behaviorally; it can manifest as quiet certainty about one’s relationship with God/Higher Power and confrontationally in the face of oppression (Allen and Miles 2020; Cone 1997).

The concept extends Scott’s (1984) everyday resistance to consider how Black sexual minorities understand and intentionally forge positive, empowering racial, sexual, religious, and/or spiritual identities. Everyday sacredness reflects a myriad of often seemingly small ways that sexually marginalized people empower themselves daily. Although it often focuses on individual and group dynamics, it offers correlates between micro- and systemic-level change. Like everyday resistance, everyday sacredness can engender activism and community-building. In contrast, it is driven by spirituality and certain religious tenets that people believe more accurately represent how God envisions them—and thus how they should envision themselves. Ultimately, like tenets forwarded by many Black ethicists, everyday sacredness is reflected in positive, proactive beliefs and choices that shape one’s perspective, posture, and body politic in spite of societal attempts to devalue them due to their intersecting, often multiply marginalized social identities (Cannon 2006; Cone 1997; Du Bois [1953] 1996; Floyd-Thomas 2006; Ross 2006; Thomas 2004; Townes 2006).

This ethos also centers scenarios of marginalized biblical characters and historical figures such as the Daughters of Zelophehad and Jarena Lee2 whose lives were initially minimized, yet ultimately celebrated. People also reject respectability politics, strict classifications of sexual identities, and mistreatment in church spaces. Yet periodic church attendance,3 prayer, faith in God/Higher Power, gospel music, and inclusive Christian mentors are embraced, but on one’s own terms, as people comfortably select rituals, beliefs, and other behavior relevant to their lives (English et al. 2020; James and Moore 2005; Moore et al. 2019). Biblically well-versed, phrases such as “anyone without sin cast the first stone” in John 8:7 and “love thy neighbor as thyself” in Matthew 22:36–40 are particularly salient schemas that inform beliefs and practices.

Yet certain tenets may be in tension with biblical themes when persons largely focus inward—contrary to Christ’s model of self-sacrifice. And pre-occupation with self-empowerment contrasts with the biblical emphasis to keep God first, thy neighbor as thyself4 and other edicts that encourage agape love-based community-building (Cone 1997; Thielicke 1964). But Christ’s model looms large. Like them, He was despised, misunderstood, and rejected for being different; lived and thought outside the box; welcomed and interacted with society’s so-called outcasts; and did not express concerns about homosexuality. Ultimately, this mindset encourages individuals to strive to become better people, regardless of their social identities. This study considers everyday sacredness as a possible component of the ethical views of individuals who shared their stories.

5. Describing Diverse Sexual Identities in This Study

In medical research, young Black male members of the LGBTQIA community are often referred to as young Black men who have sex with men or BMSM. A broader, more inclusive concept is used here. Scholars such as Kaplan et al. (2016) and Young and Meyer (2005) critique reductionist binaries and categorizations. Individuals who shared their stories in this analysis did not seem concerned about the concept BMSM as described in the prevention program grant; they had various opportunities to self-identify. Most persons embraced descriptions such as African American, Black, multi-ethnic, transgender, multi-racial, male, female, gay, queer, straight, non-binary, bisexual, gender non-conforming, and, in several instances, human. When provided, their self-definitions are included in thumbnail descriptions with representative quotes. Diverse terms are also used to describe the research partners (i.e., Black persons with diverse sexual identities, Black members of the LGBTQIA community, Black sexual minorities, sexually fluid, people, and individuals). Just as some researchers consider concepts like BMSM problematic, other scholars avoid categories and labels altogether. The goal here is not to mis-identity, mis-gender, essentialize or erase individuals, but to document the diverse ways they describe themselves and their experiences (Kaplan et al. 2016; Young and Meyer 2005).

6. Beliefs: God and/or a Higher Power and Religion and/or Spirituality

Religion can be broadly defined as a formal set of beliefs, values, and practices under the authority of a non-corporeal entity (for example, God among Christians). Common Christian practices include corporate worship, praying, and reading the Bible. In contrast, spirituality is not typically associated with an organized belief system but rather reflects various practices and beliefs that emphasize humanity’s links to the universe and each other (Barnes 2023a; Lincoln and Mamiya 1990). Religion tends to be formal; spirituality tends to emphasize informality, connections to nature, belief in a Higher Power (not necessarily “God”), self-reflection, personal empowerment, holistic wellness, and self-care. However, many of these same spiritual features can be associated with religion (James and Moore 2005). Important here, one study finds that “47% of queer respondents identified as not religious, while 24% identified as highly religious” (Harris et al. 2018, p. 33). In addition to providing views that can be associated with Christian ethics, individuals self-identify as religious and/or spiritual and acknowledge belief in God and/or a Higher Power.

7. Data, Methods, and Analytical Approach

7.1. Data Collection and Participants

This analysis is based on a sample of 76 young Black people with diverse sexual identities who participated in an intensive prevention program to combat HIV and Hepatitis C in a medium-sized metropolitan city in the United States (U.S.) South. The program was developed to cultivate positive decision-making among young people aged 18–24 years old5 to reduce risky behavior and engender healthier sexual, racial, and religious identities. Views about spirituality were an unanticipated program outcome. This project was approved by the Institutional Review Board (IRB) at the grant-receiving university; all research partners signed consent forms to participate. Recruitment occurred using snowball sampling via flyers, social media, word of mouth, and community partners.

Based on grant requirements, individuals reflected the pre-determined selection criteria of race (African American or Black), self-identified sexual behavior (men who have sex with men or MSM), age (initially 18–24 years old), and self-identified negative HIV status. Participants were screened for eligibility. They were not required to be sexual minorities or provide specifics about their sexual identities beyond the young Black MSM designation for program participation. Demographic data were captured such as sexual identity, gender, race/ethnicity, age, and education. Most persons are Black/African American (97.2%) and 66.2% self-identify as Latinx/Hispanic; 7.0% are transgender (Table 1); most self-identify as male (n = 61). About 46.5% (n = 33) self-identify as gay, 29.6% (n = 21) self-identify as straight/heterosexual, 16.9% (n = 12) consider themselves bisexual, and 7.0% (n = 5) identify as Other. The average age is 22 years old; 39.4% have earned a bachelor’s degree or greater. Slightly over half of the people are unemployed and most are single.

Table 1. Demographic Information of the Research Partners (N = 71).

	Heterosexual	Bisexual	Gay or Lesbian	Other 1	Total (%)
N (%)	21 (29.6)	12 (16.9)	33 (46.5)	5 (7.0)	71 (100)
Race/Ethnicity 2
Hispanic/Latinx	13	7	23	4	47 (66.2)
White	3	2	1	1	7 (9.9)
Black/African American	21	12	31	5	69 (97.2)
American Indian or Alaska Native	3	1	1	0	5 (7.0)
Age
18–21 years	14	7	15	1	37 (54.4)
22–25 years	3	1	12	4	20 (29.4)
26 years and up	3	4	4	0	11 (16.2)
Gender
Male	17	10	32	2	61 (85.9)
Female	1	0	0	0	1 (1.4)
Transgender	3	1	1	0	5 (7.0)
Non-binary	0	1	0	3	4 (5.6)
Education Level
High school	11	6	15	4	36 (54.5)
2-year or technical college	0	1	3	0	4 (6.1)
Four-year college or more	8	5	12	1	26 (39.4)
Employment Status
Full-time (35+ h)	2	3	14	1	20 (28.6)
Part-time (<35 h)	4	3	6	1	14 (20.0)
Unemployed	14	5	13	3	36 (51.4)
Relationship Status
Single	18	9	26	5	58 (86.6)
In a relationship	2	1	5	0	8 (11.9)
Separated, divorced	0	1	0	0	1 (1.5)

Key: Demographic data overall are missing for 5 participants. Missing data for each variable are: Race [whether Black/African American] (n = 2), Age (n = 3), Education level (n = 5), Employment status (n = 1), and Relationship status (n = 4). ¹ The Other category includes persons who indicated they prefer not to say, are unsure, or other. ² Participants could indicate more than one racial identity. When identifying multiple races, all persons still identified as Black or African American.

This study is informed by two cross-sectional data sources, a survey provided by the grantor and completed no more than 30 days after program completion between 2016 and 19 (the survey response rate was 47.3%) and in-depth, follow-up interviews with this same group between 2018 and 2019 (75% face-to-face and 25% via telephone). Data collection was required as part of the prevention grant and to document participant experiences for research purposes. The survey consisted of closed- and open-ended questions completed on-line or via hardcopy. A total of twenty-seven open-ended questions were developed by this writer based on existing scholarship on the Black LGBTQIA experience and understudied topics for this populace (i.e., religiosity and self-care). Questions focused on demographics, identities, religion, self-care, support, and overall life. Only open-ended questions were posed during the 45 minute to two hours in length interviews that were audiotaped by this writer. Interviews were transcribed by a program member who is a trained transcriber. Data reliability was checked and approved by the program evaluator and this author (the lead investigator). Research partners received $50 gift cards at program completion and upon survey completion as well as a $25 gift card after the follow-up interviews. Although generalizability is not the project objective, these results may be broadly germane to segments of this populace in the U.S. (Barnes 2023b).

7.2. Research Questions and Analytical Approach

This study focuses on results from the following questions and probes: (1) Do you believe in God, a Higher Power, something else, nothing? Why or why not, explain? (2) How would you define yourself—spiritual, religious, Christian, something else, nothing? If you have to define yourself, what would you say, explain? (3) If anything, what can the Black Church do to help Black MSM? Views about Christian ethics were gleaned from their responses. Readers should note that these queries purposely include closed- and open-ended questions. Moreover, questions do not specifically ask about Christian and/or sexual ethics. The open-ended questions are intentionally broad to provide research partners with the ability to share their stories more broadly in the absence of more leading questions. I contend that this is a strength in the study because individuals offered commentary and solutions directly or indirectly linked to ethics—despite the absence of a direct, specific question about ethics. Thus, their comments illustrate a certain degree of discernment about moral imperatives they expect and that are often absent in their lives.

Content analysis was employed to identify emergent response themes and patterns (Mayring 2021; Neuendorf 2016). A two-step process was used to systematically study the data. Initially, during open-coding, concepts such as and related to sexual ethics and everyday sacredness presented in the theoretical framework were categorized and labeled, followed by axial coding, in which connections between these concepts were determined to develop phrases. First, line-by-line coding was applied to uncover frequently occurring concepts (i.e., words) and common verbiage that informed the subsequent analysis. This initial stage was significant to identify whether participants referenced terminology associated with everyday sacredness and ethics that they associated with Christianity and/or sexuality (for example, homophobia, right and wrong) as well as other concepts linked to the study questions such as God, Higher Power, religion, and spirituality. These concepts became part of the codebook used during the next analysis phase. As well as detailing specific ways participants described everyday sacredness and ethical issues, this process enabled frequently occurring phrases to be classified. Brief handwritten notes were also taken during and after each interview to include with the interview information (for example, gestures and laughing).

Next, phrases were combined into groups to develop themes; representative quotes were also identified during this second phase. In several instances, I identified and confirmed certain scriptural “addresses” that were paraphrased by participants. The several data stages used during the analysis provide confidence in the most commonly occurring concepts and themes. This analysis benefits from detailed narratives that include whether individuals embrace God and/or a Higher Power, religion and/or spirituality, and if these beliefs influence their lives. Results, including themes and representative quotes6 as well as quotes from ethicists, are provided below. Rather than numerous short quotes, this analysis features in-depth representative quotes that illustrate nuanced assessments of Christian ethics. Pseudonyms and self-defined sexual identities are included (Barnes 2023b).

7.3. Positionality Statement

I am a Black, cisgender female, straight, college professor and clergyperson who lived most of my adult life in the South. I was socialized in an historically Black Church that was unwelcoming to members of the LGBTQIA community. I attended welcoming churches as an adult fostered by the desire to be an ally for sexually diverse family members and friends. I did not disclose my sexual or religious identities to research participants; some of this information may have been known to some participants based on their on-going involvement in the prevention program on which I served as Principal Investigator (PI), lead administrator, and researcher. Their program involvement meant that many individuals interacted with me over the course of 4–5 years. This rapport may have made many people comfortable sharing their experiences. Yet differences in sexual identity and age likely influenced how much some people disclosed (Barnes 2023b).7

8. Findings

A wide range of topics can be associated with Christian ethics; individuals here focus on three themes that influence their lives as religious and/or spiritual beings. These themes are not mutually exclusive, but rather, each emphasizes a different issue related to the Black Church. In the initial theme, The Black Church as an Ethical Response: “What a Lot of Folks Need is Comfort That Who They Are is Not Wrong,” individuals describe tensions between what is considered right and wrong around sexuality in Black churches. The second theme, Agape Love as an Ethical Response: “You’re Okay … God Still Loves You,” challenges Black communities, churches, and families to embrace unconditional love, regardless of one’s sexual identity. The final, more pragmatic theme, “Holistic Health as an Ethical Response: “People are Attempting to Get HIV on Purpose,” calls into question healthcare inequities experienced by the Black LGBTQIA community. In addition to representative quotes, thumbnail descriptions describe whether persons self-identify as religious and/or spiritual as well as whether they believe in God and/or a Higher Power.

8.1. The Black Church as an Ethical Response: “What a Lot of Folks Need Is Comfort That Who They Are Is Not Wrong”

This theme reflects concerns about negative religious experiences documented in existing research (Balaji et al. 2012; Dangerfield et al. 2019; Douglas 1999; Pinn and Hopkins 2024; Quinn et al. 2015; Sorett 2022). It emphasizes acceptance of homosexuality as an ethical imperative despite the tendency to focus on “right versus wrong” during debates and dialogues on the subject. Representative quotes below by Barron and Jonathan critique religion, in general, and the Black Church, in particular, as well as illustrate the everyday sacredness of sexual minorities. Also, this theme contrasts what Black sexual minorities believe they deserve in churches versus what they believe they receive.

8.1.1. Barron’s Voice About Intra-Racial Mistreatment

Barron, a 24-year-old gay college junior, self-identifies as spiritual and believes in God. He is skeptical that the Black Church can move beyond the belief that homosexuality is wrong to actually support this community:

I don’t think the Black Church will ever be able to help Black MSM because in religion, they are taught that Black men who have sex with men are wrong. It’s a sin and we [the Black Church] try to butter it up by saying, ‘We hate the sin, but not the sinner.’ In reality, we can’t separate the two.

In the above comment, Barron critiques Black churches that compartmentalize people and then reduce them to their sexual behavior. Rather than grappling with the issue, he questions long-standing jargon alluded to in Jude 1:22–23 (i.e., “hate the sin, but not the sinner”) used to justify continued disdain for sexual minorities. These beliefs are based on an unrealistic premise that people’s ungodly actions (i.e., “sin”) can be somehow separated from human frailties (Douglas 1999; Sorett 2022). Barron also critiques the tendency to focus on homosexuality while downplaying or ignoring the reality of racial inequities his community also faces:

Number one, Black people have to stop with this whole Black-versus-gay. When they do that, what they’re talking about is White gays… The gay struggle is really the White gay struggle. I’m still a minority. I’m still Black. I think Black people get so caught up on gay-gay-gay and what type of sex I have and start sexualizing me and grossing themselves out and thinking about whatever. But y’all forget that before you knew I was gay, you saw my skin and saw who I was.

Barron considers it wrong to fetishize and objectify sexual minorities without recognizing that the phenotypical nature of race over sexual orientation means that the former characteristic overshadows the latter as a visually based site of marginalization (Hunter 2010).8 Moreover, his critique parallels cautions by Townes (2006, p. 53) against ethics that reflect “dominant cultures invested in a choked status quo… [but rather to] maintain the rigorous pursuit of identity as a form of resistance to the fantastic hegemonic imagination—wherever it is found.” For Barron, this unethical, illogical fracture ultimately disempowers the Black community:

The Black Church has to realize you’re condemning your own people and it’s Black people who will never get our power back if all Black people don’t have power. Simple as that. You can’t help me if you don’t like me. You can’t help me if you don’t know me. You can’t help me if I disgust you or if you feel it’s wrong to talk to me, to be nice to me or kind to me. You can’t help me.

Per Barron, the inability to embrace its diverse members undermines effective collective mobilization and empowerment in the Black community. Moreover, unchecked intra-racial homophobia has resulted in disdain for the LGBTQIA community and ill treatment in the form of isolation, ambivalence, inhumanity, and lack of support. Barron’s critique also suggests that such churches violate a key tenet of everyday sacredness; by undermining the liberties of sexual minorities in the Black community, they are inevitably undermining liberties of members of the Black community, in general.

8.1.2. Jonathan’s Voice About Biblical Misinterpretation

A similar stance is articulated by Jonathan, a 29-year-old who self-identifies as bisexual. Jonathan is completing a Bachelor’s degree, considers himself both religious as well as spiritual, and believes in a Supreme Being that “cannot be boxed in”. His comment below illumines the intersection of race, gender, and religion and associated societal constraints:

So we know that most of our culture, and our structure of life, not Black, but just being American, is given to us by a White supremacist system. So it’s given us a concept that man is supposed to do this, a woman is supposed to do that, this is what you can do, this is what you can’t do, this is what you should do, this is what you shouldn’t.

In the above remark, Jonathan alludes to Du Bois’ ([1953] 1996) double consciousness to make distinctions between a Black reality and the influence of racism (i.e., “White supremacist system”). Per Jonathan, racism as a structural force has shaped societal ethics regarding acceptable sexual and gender roles.9 He continues by suggesting that these prescribed roles are codified by faulty biblical interpretations:

Even if somethings they’ll quote, Leviticus, or certain Romans…They are not understanding that those texts, when they quote them, are being used out of context to what the actual scripture is saying. So they miss the whole point of what the Bible is trying to say altogether. It’s that was actually like a harmful thing when they were doing it in Leviticus and Romans, that was a whole system, it was called Qedesha, which is, like, a temple prostitute … and so they would basically rape them as worship to their gods. And so the Lord was basically like, ‘We not doing that here’. And so, it wasn’t against what you see now. It’s completely different. Completely separated.

Jonathan’s explanation above alludes to Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13, as well as Romans 1:18 and 26–27, which he believes have been taken out of context to criticize the LGBTQIA community by conflating inappropriate sexual behavior such as sanctioned rape of temple prostitutes10 with homosexuality. By providing the context for how such passages have been misinterpreted, Jonathan warns about the dangers of proof-texting that has resulted in the unsubstantiated vilification of sexual minorities in ways that are neither justified nor biblical. Jonathan offers a similar ethical question to that of Jordan’s (2002, p. 38) study on ethics and sexuality about the continued use of the Leviticus passage:

Only a long received tradition of interpretation could lead readers to keep using this story in contemporary discussions of homosexuality. When we stand by such interpretations, we say more about the force of reception, about the persistence of systemics of theological topics, than we do about the biblical text.

In his final comment below, Jonathan offers a reminder of what he considers the primary goal of the Black Church:

If the Black Church would just understand that Christ didn’t come for those that are doing well or right—He came for those that are lost. So, if they would help those that are lost in their own communities, they would be better off. Because right now we definitely need it. We getting cut on all sides. HIV, COVID, Trump, everybody just coming for us. Overall I think that they [the Black Church] should support instead of denigrate.

Jonathan suggests that even if people are unaware of these scriptural details, they should be aware of New Testament edicts (example, Luke 19:10) that Jesus Christ came to save all of humanity (i.e., “the lost”) with no regard for social identities. For him, rather than being preoccupied with homophobia, the Black Church’s time would be better spent addressing the litany of problems the Black community currently faces (i.e., “cut on all sides”) due to racism as well as health and political disenfranchisement. And these challenges diminish the Black community overall. The following dual ethical reflections support Jonathan’s stance. Griffin (2006, p. 22) asserts, “religion is commonly used within cultures to justify oppression. Often, Bible stories are used to construct theological perspectives that define minority groups as being out of God’s favor and deserving of a subordinate status and unequal treatment with the dominant group.” Yet Douglas (2015, p. 183) offers a counter-narrative: “God’s power respects the integrity of all human bodies and the sanctity of all life. This is a resurrecting power. Therefore, God’s power never expresses itself through the humiliation or denigration of another.”

This theme emphasizes biblically biased, homophobic stances in certain Black churches about what is good versus bad and right versus wrong. It is most common for individuals here, well-versed in the Bible, to critique passages they believe are incorrectly exegeted to condemn homosexuality as well as to provide contrasting scripture. Barron and Jonathan offer alternatives to what could be considered immoral sexual behavior in the Bible that they understand differently (Greenway et al. 2022; James and Moore 2005; Pinn and Hopkins 2024; Sorett 2022). Indicative of everyday sacredness, individuals refuse to be reduced to being wrong, evil, or sinful based solely on their sexuality and questionable scriptural interpretations but embrace a positive view of self—despite detractors. Moreover, central to an everyday sacred stance, they question whether such congregations are being truthful about the impetus for their disdain, intra-racial marginalization, and the tendency to reduce the LGBTQIA community to their sexual identities rather than acknowledging their humanity. For individuals like Jonathan and Barron, Black churches should be conduits that foster and uphold the everyday sacredness of sexual minorities rather than undermine it, particularly in light of the challenges this group experiences in the wider society.

8.2. Agape Love as an Ethical Response: “You’re Okay … God Still Loves You”

The Greek word “agape” is mentioned at least 300 times in the Bible. Passages such as John 3:16, I John 4:8, I Corinthians 13, John 13:34–35, and Romans 5:8 describe agape love as unconditional, self-sacrificial love, and the highest form of affection that can be exhibited. Like the initial theme, individuals here are critical of the Black Church. However, this theme (slightly longer than the other two thematic sections) emphasizes agape love as an ethical response. Individuals describe the imperative to show such love to all people, regardless of their sexual identity in three domains—the Black community, the Black Church, and the Black family. For Martin, Seneca, and Corey, part of creating welcoming and affirming spaces, inside and outside congregations, requires African Americans to show unconditional love.

8.2.1. Martin’s Voice About the Black Church

Martin, a 25-year-old, self-identifies as queer and has earned a Master’s degree in gender studies. They recall negative experiences in the Black Church that resulted in their exodus from organized religion:

I don’t go to church, but I do meditate and pray and I listen to a lot of like religious music, ‘cause that’s what I grew up with and so when I listen to music, I feel connected to something higher than myself…I don’t go to church partially because I didn’t feel accepted in the church that we went to when I was growing up as a queer person. I felt ostracized. I felt like I wasn’t gonna be accepted.

Martin’s experience reflects the common pattern of “the heteronormative, stereotypical gaze upon the Black queer body” (Sneed 2010, p. 184). Despite feeling unwelcome as a child, Martin continues to enjoy Black Church rituals they have been socialized to embrace such as prayer and religious music (Barnes 2023a; Dangerfield et al. 2019), as well as practices associated with spirituality (i.e., meditation) that can promote solace and contemplation (Barnes 2023a; James and Moore 2005). Moreover, Martin believes churches can be more relevant by offering social support that attends to the emotional and psychological developmental needs of the Black LGBTQIA community:

Church can provide some sort of counseling that’s affirming and supportive…when I look back, I sometime wonder what it would have been like…if I would be more invested in church if had been in a space where folks saw me, because folks called me queer when I was a kid, so saw me and was just like, ‘You’re okay. That’s okay. God still loves you,’ and were able to help me figure out that journey? I think that’s what a lot of folks need, is comfort that who they are is not wrong and not having to defend themselves all the time…some space to come together to figure out what it all means, like to be a Black man who sleeps with men and also to be a part of the Black Church and being able to have that affirming space.11

Self-identified as spiritual, rather than religious, Martin believes in a Higher Power that loves all of humanity (Thurman 1999, 2007). Paralleling everyday sacredness as an ethos, childhood reflections of missed opportunities to experience agape love now prompt Martin to both recognize those emotional gaps as well as love and affirm themselves. Moreover, their remark presents agape love as a universal ethic recognized among Christian ethicists:

In agape, I no longer identify the other person with the opposition in which he stands for me; nor do I identify him with his functions … I see in him the child of God … man can be empowered to possess agape only by allowing himself to receive it from God and so pass it on to his neighbor … in eros [erotic love] the worth of the other person is the object; in agape, the authentic being of the other person is the object … it has a liberating effect (emphasis is his).

(Thielicke 1964, pp. 28–33)

For Martin, following this ethical edict means love would not be conditioned on behavior (i.e., “functions”) nor passion (i.e., “erotic”), but unconditional based on authenticity. Moreover, Thielicke’s (1964) distinction is germane here given the many prior studies that seem to emphasize the erotic experiences of young Black members of the LGBTQIA populace (Arnold et al. 2014; Arscott et al. 2020; Barnes 2023b; Douglas 1999; Quinn et al. 2020). Yet individuals who share their experiences here desire unconditional love and acceptance. And like Cone (1997), showing agape love, particularly toward marginalized people, reflects God’s special concern for the liberation of such groups.

Martin also imagines what their religious life would be like today, if they had been affirmed rather than ostracized in the Black Church. This ethical quandary illustrates some of the tensions between what is and what should be, as homophobia and heterosexism in certain Black churches resulted in missed opportunities to love, support, and socialize Black sexual minorities (i.e., “comfort” rather than having to “defend themselves all the time”) during the emerging adult development process (i.e., “help me figure out that journey”) (Arnett 2000, 2014; Berk 2018). In this instance, what is ethical is illustrated by an idealized expectation of the Black Church that stands in tension with the reality of Martin’s experiences. Furthermore, central to this theme and indicative of everyday sacredness is their stance that being Black, queer, and Christian are not mutually exclusive identities, despite views in certain congregations to the contrary.

8.2.2. Seneca’s Voice About the Black Community

Although individuals were specifically queried about how the Black Church could better support the Black LGBTQIA community, it was common for people to discuss the need for unconditional love and support from other groups, specifically the Black family and the Black community. Seneca self-identifies as straight; this 18-year-old college freshman is a Christian. His remark below illustrates an abiding belief in God and religious syncretism common among persons who shared their stories here. Seneca is comfortable embracing Christian traditions such as church attendance, while also understanding the spiritual connections to these same practices:

I do practice organized religion, go to church every Sunday, and participate in those regular things. But it’s spiritual, too, because…ever since I started trusting Him … something that has been different in my life.

Contrary to individuals who point to homophobia and heterosexism in Black churches as primary factors that de-church sexual minorities, Seneca believes dynamics tied to the emerging adult development process such as employment, school, and self-exploration compete for the time and energy of his peers and undermine church involvement (Arnett 2000, 2014; Berk 2018):

I think it’s happening because normally, at that age, they’re trying to experiment with life and see what they’re actually like. And so that deteriorates their focus from church. And they kinda focus on different things and have a lot going on too, in this time. So, like education, work, and a lotta times, people don’t have time to go to church ‘cause they’re often tired or overworked.

Per his thoughts above, challenges associated with learning, living, and navigating the community and society often prevent Black early adults from being active in church. He suggests that, rather than being de-churched, his peers have merely paused their religious involvement to possibly re-engage later in life (Lincoln and Mamiya 1990). Yet Seneca suggests that if more members of the Black community would show sexual minorities unconditional love, Black churches would follow suit:

Support [what Black MSM need], because a lotta people…believe it’s a sin, basically. And that shouldn’t be something that should be going on, and I think that if the Black community was like, ‘Okay, I understand that, but I’m here for you and I still love you,’ then I really believe that that would help them a lot better.

Seneca’s comment above places the onus on the broader Black community to alleviate negative views about homosexuality by providing a clear message of love, empathy, and support in spite of prevailing adverse sentiments. He considers himself an ally for the Black LGBTQIA community by acknowledging both heteronormativity in the Black community and the imperative for unconditional acceptance (Barnes 2023a; Foster et al. 2011; Greenway et al. 2022). Similarly, ethics calls for this type of love that is not a respecter of persons; “the love of God is above all the love which loves that which is like it. It loves in man the imago Dei …. He loves him nevertheless …. God does not love us because we are valuable and worthful; we are worthful because God loves us (emphasis is his)” (Thielicke 1964, pp. 31–32). Moreover, both Seneca’s (i.e., “I still love you”) and Thielicke’s (i.e., “He loves him nevertheless”) remarks reflect the hallmark tenet of everyday sacred that emphasizes the inherent value of all humanity. For the latter writer, such sacredness comes from God; Seneca expects it to also come from the Black community.

8.2.3. Corey’s Voice About the Black Family

Corey, a 19-year-old college student who self-identifies as pansexual, supports a similar need for support—from both Black churches and Black families. According to their initial remark below, the inability for Black Christians to accept their homosexual peers is confusing considering their historic difficulties being accepted by the White community (Arnold et al. 2014; Arscott et al. 2020; Lincoln and Mamiya 1990; Sorett 2022):

What can the Black Church do? Be more accepting. One thing that baffles me and hurts my heart is that we have these churches who know first-hand how Black people struggled so hard for independence, struggled hard for acceptance, equality. But here we are turning our backs to Black MSMs or Black LGBT people, and it hurts. Because, for instance, ‘He who is without sin cast the first stone.’

A college student who considers themselves both religious and spiritual, Corey believes in God. Like many participants here, Corey’s biblical literacy is apparent as they reference John 8:712 as a reminder that everyone is imperfect and in need of love, grace, and forgiveness. Like Corey, Cone’s (1997, p. 189) ethical imperative applied here means, “the behavior of Christians is not decided by rational principles that all people accept as good or right. It is decided by God’s act of liberation in Jesus Christ to set the captives free.” For Corey, intra-racial betrayal that positions race over sexuality diminishes the entire Black community (Cannon 2006; Floyd-Thomas 2006).

Below, Corey also points to an ethical quandary apparent in such hypocrisy and its prevalence in churches:

There’s so many things going on in the church that we know are sinful. Sometimes, these pastors are having illegitimate affairs, illegitimate children. The deacon is sleeping with the first lady (laughing). All of that is going down, but somehow they have created, a notion that one sin is greater than the other. But the Bible says, ‘For the wages of sin is death.’ So all sin is equal—from my understanding.

Infidelity, children out of wedlock, sexual indiscretions by church leaders—are part of Corey’s critique about duplicity they contend is common in Black churches.13 In addition, Corey is critical of the man-made tendency to prioritize certain transgressions over others despite scripture that describes the fallibility of all humankind, as the reason for Christ’s sacrifice:

So, if homosexuality is a sin, then you cheating on your wife is a sin, you cheating on your husband is a sin. You committing crimes is a sin. But you committed crime in the name of Jesus is the … if there is a bigger sin, you committing crimes and saying, ‘I’m doing this in the name of Jesus,’ that’s the biggest sin. Because you know good and dang well Jesus didn’t tell you to do that.

Corey’s comment above alludes to bible verses such as Romans 3:23 as a reminder of the sin nature in all people and that God does not prioritize transgressions. They are particularly critical of Christians who use the name of Christ to justify indiscretions.

Yet in their final comment below, Corey describes Black parents who defy heterosexism and homophobia by exhibiting agape love to their sexually diverse children:

Not only is the church not accepting, parents are not accepting. You see it now that some parents are becoming a little bit more accepting. For example, Dwyane Wade and Gabrielle Union supporting their child … and it’s so beautiful to see that. I think Dwyane Wade has three different children, and I don’t want to misgender their child, because I know the picture, it said, ‘My girls.’ So I’m not sure if they’re assigned, expressed interest in becoming a woman. And it’s beautiful that Gabrielle and Dwyane are supporting them to the best of their abilities and being there for them. And if there were more parents like that because you don’t have to have over $50 million, and the means that they have to support their children.

Corey presents the choice by a famous Black couple (i.e., sports figure, Dwyane Wade, and actor Gabrielle Union) to support their transgender daughter, Zaya, who came out at 12 years old (Wade and Union 2020). For Corey, unconditional love and empathy, rather than one’s socioeconomic status, are the only prerequisites for acknowledging and supporting sexually diverse people. To them, such families serve as models for Christians and non-Christians alike (Balaji et al. 2012; Garcia et al. 2016). Similarly, Floyd-Thomas (2006, pp. 7, 12) suggests that ethics should champion such behavior by “constructing knowledge…with multiple voices, cultures, and experiences … to shed light on the interstructuring of oppressions that affect and distort all people.”

According to this theme, showing everyone unconditional love is the right thing to do (Floyd-Thomas 2006; Thielicke 1964). Martin, Seneca, and Corey contrast this biblical mandate with ill treatment of sexual minorities they believe is all too common in the Black community, churches, and families (Anderson 2004; Douglas 1999; Sorett 2022). Indicative of everyday sacredness, it is also common for individuals to reference specific scripture to illustrate both God’s and Christ’s agape love for humanity as an overarching tenet that must be present in Christianity, in general, and in the Black Church, in particular. Moreover, this form of love would transform adversaries into advocates and allies in ways that could galvanize the Black community.

8.3. Holistic Health as an Ethical Response: “People Are Attempting to Get HIV on Purpose”

Systemic barriers and inequities tied to locality can undermine the lives and holistic health outcomes of Black members of the LGBTQIA community who face scarcity in terms of healthcare access (Center for Disease Control [CDC] 2020). Moreover, the disproportionate burden of HIV/AIDS can exacerbate their experiences (Arscott et al. 2020; Raifman et al. 2019). The final theme reflects a more practical example of Christian ethics, as Andrew and Barry describe challenges and unmet needs (Arnold et al. 2014; Barnes 2013, 2023a; Dangerfield et al. 2019). Central to this theme are concerns that Black sexual minorities do not receive the health-related resources and support they need and deserve; individuals are also critical of Black Church inactivity.

8.3.1. Andrew’s Voice About Advocates

Andrew, a 29-year-old college graduate in communications, self-identifies as straight and spiritual. He conflates God and the Higher Power and believes that the Black Church could provide more social and health-related support to the gay community:

It does disappoint me because I see a lot of Black churches, they never speak on stuff like that. They never talk about the high STD rates or the HIV rates that are among Black MSMs particularly. They need to have people sit in places to equip and talk to these young men in these churches. Even if it doesn’t come from the pastors. It can come from another church leader. It can come from someone coming to speak from the health department that can talk on their behalf. If you don’t feel comfortable talking to the pastor or the deacon or whoever, we have this person, Bob, John, whoever, set up that can be a resource to you.

An advocate for open communication and transparency as well as an ally of sexual minorities, Andrew frames the problem in terms of unaddressed health issues (i.e., “high STD rates or the HIV rates”) rather than sexual identity. He recommends that young Black sexual minorities have advocates inside and outside the Black Church, including representatives from the health arena. For him, increased communication by designated church personnel may turn the tide on the disproportionate STI rates in the Black gay community. Moreover, some Black ethicists contend that providing such support for sexual minorities would merely reflect the Black Church’s linked fate history (Barnes 2020, 2023a; Lincoln and Mamiya 1990). For example, Anderson (2004, p. 311) charges, “I do not require the Black Church to be an advocate for our sexual freedom. I only ask that it not hate us when we advocate for ourselves sexual liberty. I want it to be a refuge for us as it is for all its other members.” However, Andrew suggests that both church members and members of the LGBTQIA community have difficulty broaching these subjects. He notes reasons for avoidance among members of the former group:

It shouldn’t always be, ‘No, we’re not going to talk about that. Nope, that’s taboo. Nope, we’re not going to discuss that.’ Because then you’re adhering to what society is basically saying about us, about people.

The above succinct comment explains reticence (i.e., continual “no’s”) as churches both avoid so-called forbidden topics and adhere to societal stereotypes and biases (Garcia et al. 2016; Lefevor et al. 2020; Young 2023). Below, Andrew becomes more specific in his critique:

They’re afraid that they’re going to lose their membership. They’re afraid that they’re going to turn a lot of people away. They’re afraid that the elders of the church is, because they’ve been set in their ways, they’ve probably been members of the church, 20, 15 years. Their family has probably been going to the church forever. They’re not going to allow that, that type of new behavior, come up and disturb their church. They feel like it is an abomination or it’s not of God. They don’t want it there. So, that’s where you have that line drawn, where it’s like, either we’re going to face this problem, or we’re going to leave it as is.

Andrew suggests that fear, cultural lag, heterosexism, and homophobia in certain Black churches can mean failure to provide needed support and resources (Dangerfield et al. 2019; Quinn et al. 2015; Sorett 2022. Similar to Jonathan’s views in the initial theme, Andrew’s imagery also suggests that such decisions are based on a dichotomous way of thinking about good versus bad lifestyles (i.e., “have that line drawn”) informed by commonly referenced Old Testament passages (i.e., Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13) interpreted in reductionist ways that ultimately result in simplistic (i.e., yes or no) decision-making. These choices, informed by church cultural traditions and conservative biblical redactions, justify ignoring the health-related needs of this population and squelching their existence in religious spaces (i.e., “new behavior”). For Andrew, everyday sacredness means that Black sexual minorities deserve support specific to meet their unique needs and concerns simply because they are part of the human race—and the Black community. Also, his observation supports Cone (2000, p. 92) that the Black Church’s inability to proactively respond constitutes unethical behavior; “the concerns of the Black church should not be in gaining more members for itself, but only in liberating the victims wherever they are found.” In this instance, liberation has real-world health implications.

8.3.2. Barry’s Voice About Chaser Communities

Barry is a 24-year-old gay college junior who believes in God but identifies as spiritual rather than religious, argues for holistic healthcare and additional preventive programs. He recognizes the systemic constraints that focus healthcare support on HIV-positive people rather than their HIV-negative counterparts:

I know it’s impossible to try to get it [resources] from the CDC [Center for Disease Control] because of all kind of BS [expletive]—but we need more incentivized programs for HIV negative MSM, or people on PrEP, because we know that incentives work. Incentivized programs also work for HIV positive people. That’s how we get them into care; that’s how they stay in care.

Like the applied nature of everyday sacredness, ethical behavior provides a parallel mandate; “the Christian answer to suffering is both practical and spiritual” (Cone 2004, p. 12). Yet for Barry, awareness of culturally informed healthcare locales can provide support that enables HIV-negative people a greater chance to remain negative as well as help improve the quality of life of HIV-positive people (Philbin et al. 2016; Quinn et al. 2020). His remark above does not suggest support for the former group at the expense of the latter, but that assistance is needed for both (i.e., “incentivized programs”). Yet a cultural shift and change in mindset will be required:

We don’t use that same ideology when it comes to negative people … Y’all aren’t helping negative people with the same constraints and disparities that the positive people have in transportation, housing issues, education. I think that’s why we have a [growth] in the chaser community, where people are attempting to get HIV on purpose because I think some people are so down and out. Even with homeless people. Some homeless people say they prefer to go to jail because at least you get three meals a day, a cot, a warm shower. It’s getting to that point. So, I think assisting the community equally …. Chaser community is a … group of people who seek HIV positive men to have unprotected sex with or risky sex with, in search of obtaining HIV for many different reasons. For sense of community, for sense of support, whether that is financial or anything.

Barry’s thought above describes poverty that can result in extreme, dangerous decisions and outcomes based on the intersection of sexuality, race, and socioeconomics. To him, support should focus on justice and equality for HIV-negative people similar to their HIV-positive peers. In the absence of the requisite healthcare support, Barry contends that some people (i.e., “chaser community”) may intentionally engage in risky behavior to secure the health resources available to HIV-positive people that are unavailable to their HIV-negative counterparts. He also suggests that these desperate responses to economic and emotional scarcity place people at increased risk in ways that undermine both their life chances and quality of life (Center for Disease Control [CDC] 2020; Millett et al. 2012). Like Barry, Sneed (2010, p. 184) calls for the practical effects of a Christian ethic that is “more concerned with providing resources for people to think critically about what constitutes fulfillment in this life.”

Barry points to systemic constraints that undermine needed healthcare and manifest as intragroup disparities in the Black LGBTQIA community. He also notes and critiques unequal treatment and resources across two groups of people—people who are HIV negative and positive. His ethical concerns are less directly related to sexuality and more related to the extreme extent some poor Black sexual minorities may go to acquire health benefits that many people take for granted. Barry’s imagery makes comparisons to impoverished sexual minorities and the homeless community and their dire attempts to make it in society (National Network for Youth 2023; Price-Feeney et al. 2020). For him, just as society fails the homeless community, they are failing to provide crucial preventative care to his community.

Many healthcare challenges in the Black LGBTQIA populace are a result of structural and sociocultural barriers, more so than individual behavior (Alessi et al. 2020; Quinn et al. 2020). Andrew and Barry cite healthcare inequities as an unethical dimension of life in the U.S. that disproportionately impacts racial and sexual minorities. Also, culturally competent community stakeholders such as healthcare facilities, pharmacies, doctors’ offices, and clinics often understand and help individuals overcome barriers, stigma, and negligence by health facilities that fail to respond to their diverse needs and concerns (Center for Disease Control [CDC] 2020; Raifman et al. 2019). Both Andrew and Barry are critical of the lack of diverse community resources for them and their peers. They express concerns about society and churches that tend to provide support to groups deemed acceptable while withholding similar resources from those deemed unacceptable. In this theme, everyday sacredness reflects a well-tuned eye to constraints and challenges specific to young Black sexual minorities. In this way, ethics can be a lens through which everyday sacredness can be assessed. Interestingly, sexual identity (Andrew identifies as straight) does not preclude the ability to critique inadequate systems and organizations that fail to do their part to intervene on behalf of vulnerable groups.

9. Discussion and Conclusions

What constitutes Christian ethics for a group of young Black members of the LGBTQIA community? How have their experiences in Black churches shaped their views as religious, spiritual, and/or sexual beings? This study grapples with these queries. This study is in response, in part, to the paucity of scholarship about the young Black LGBTQIA community that does not center their sexual activity and/or HIV. Findings here suggest the need for more work concerning the everyday lives of this populace, in general, as well as studies that document their everyday sacredness, in particular.

The three emergent themes suggest that Christian ethics must address the mind, body, and spirit. They emphasize the centrality of advocacy, agape love, and holistic health as exemplars of Christian ethics. Themes range from theological to practical, from intangible to more tangible, and suggest a charge to the Black Church by Black sexual minorities to better respond to their diverse needs and concerns (Barnes 2023a, 2023b). For some readers, this indictment is not new; yet findings here offer additional insights about this issue from an ethical lens as well as ways in which ethical concerns undergird the emergence of everyday sacredness as an ethos. Individuals critique what the Black Church is not doing as they describe what they believe it should be doing on behalf of a vulnerable population. Common is the emphasis on ethical dichotomies—right versus wrong, good versus bad, sinless versus sinful. Persons challenge and reject the tendency for the Black LGBTQIA community to be continually included in the latter categories in reductionist ways that go against biblical edicts to love one’s neighbor. In this way, being a Christian should manifest in the form of solidarity, advocacy, and allyship, in general, and particularly toward historically oppressed groups (Cannon 2006; Cone 1997, 2000; Floyd-Thomas 2006; Ross 2006; Sneed 2010; Thomas 2004; Townes 2006). Although some of these concerns, particularly in the first theme, have arisen in prior studies summarized earlier in the Literature Review, their framing here as both ethical edicts and factors that precipitate everyday sacredness offers a nuanced, innovative, and timely way to consider the thoughts and suggestions of Black sexual minorities.

Another valuable finding in this study on Christian ethics is the universality of many of the ethical assessments (Lehmann 1976; Niebuhr 1932). People believe that their lives do not deserve to be summarily considered wrong. In addition, they deserve unconditional love and to have their holistic health needs met. Readers should note that these concerns could have just as easily been demanded by any social group—poor people, racial/ethnic minorities, homeless persons, and immigrants—and not Black members of the LGBTQIA community. These findings also illustrate that ethics can have religious and non-religious implications and effects—from intangible spiritual outcomes to tangible health outcomes. Because the individuals here are sexual minorities, this study informs Christian ethics as well as Christian sexual ethics. Given the increasingly diverse religious landscape in which we live, fruitful future studies should compare and contrast how contemporary issues may cut across different ethical domains. Mixed-methodological research that includes survey data may also broaden our understanding of overarching principles (Lehmann 1976; Niebuhr 1932) and group-specific outcomes (Sneed 2010; Townes 2006). This study relied on detailed, lengthier representative quotes. Their nuanced, layered reflections lent themselves to a more in-depth analysis of the topic and to better understand a broader scope of individuals’ thoughts. As suggested in the current analysis, continued research on intersecting ethics is needed (i.e., Christian ethics and Christian sexual ethics) to further complicate what constitutes ethical attitudes and actions and continue to challenge Christian ethicists to include sexual minorities in their work in more culturally sensitive ways (Hollinger 2009; Jordan 2002; Thielicke 1964).

Findings here differ from existing studies due to the existence and application of everyday sacredness as an ethos. This is quite possibly the most important outcome of this query. Individuals vocalized belief in their innate value regardless of sexual identity as well as deservedness for agape love and health services. They wish to be viewed holistically based on their humanity rather than simply for their sexuality (Barnes 2023b; Dangerfield et al. 2019; Quinn et al. 2015; Sorett 2022; West 1993). Everyday sacredness can be quite applied and practical. In this study, it often helped explain the why of individuals’ insights. Some sentiments are about sexuality; others are not. Some of their concerns are informed by sexual identity, and others parallel those of young adults during the emergent adult development process (Arnett 2000, 2014; Berk 2018). And just as the Bible has been used to critique them, individuals are comfortable exhibiting mastery of the same text to justify inclusivity, equality, and acceptance. Part of their critiques, and also indicative of everyday sacredness, is the ability to call into question and reject reductionist beliefs about what constitutes sacredness.

The diverse concerns that thematically emerged in this study are also examples of ethical challenges people have faced that, in part, ultimately led to everyday sacredness as a resolution. This sacredness means that individuals value themselves, and that sense of value informs their views about the world in general, as well as a bevy of dynamics that affect their everyday lives, such as religious challenges, race matters, homophobia, and other societal ills. This lens also fosters self-love as well as the ability to find beauty and possibilities in these same societal spaces. Just as Christian ethics can be used to identify forces that are unethical, everyday sacredness cultivates discernment about various dynamics, including churches, practices, and beliefs, that undermine the ability of Black sexual minorities to live their most liberated lives. In this way, an ethical lens, nuanced by varied experiential prisms, undergirds the ability to live out the features of everyday sacredness. Embracing everyday sacredness opens one’s eyes such that they question the ethical stances and outcomes of groups and people that directly or indirectly stymie their ability to experience this ethos.

Ethics also shows up across the three themes in terms of aspirations and expectations, where individuals describe their reality versus idealized versions of biblical principles that encourage unconditional love, hospitality, and positive human engagement. Another common feature of this epistemology is the tendency to compare and contrast experiences in homophobic religious spaces with expectations considered evidence of ethical behavior. It will be important to also continue to investigate the salience of everyday sacredness to illuminate the lived experiences and challenges among other historically marginalized groups.

Many participants here did not specifically use the word ethics to describe their views about what is morally correct or incorrect but rather described abiding principles and expectations for systemic change in the Black Church. For them, ethics should show up in everyday situations and spaces in terms of how people are treated (Barnes 2023a, 2023b; Cone 1997, 2000; Thomas 2004; Townes 2006). These results illustrate that sexual ethics are not simply concerns based on sexual identity but also include ethical concerns that affect lives in general. Based on their plans and desires, people want to live their lives, successfully complete the daily round, have and raise children, gain access to healthcare, and participate in church like other members of society—without fear of recrimination. These expectations and aspirations are central to everyday sacredness, and suggest that many of their concerns parallel those of people outside the Black LGBTQIA community. Just as individuals acknowledge exposure to systemic challenges associated with racism, stereotypes, and heterosexism that influence their quality of life, their reflections illustrate resilience, intestinal fortitude, savvy, and wisdom needed to navigate the same potential quagmires. Central to these discerning attitudes and behavior is a belief in their abiding importance as members of God’s creation.