The Church Made Me Do It

Abstract

In recent years, the Marin Foundation has gained increasing attention as a Christian group attempting to reconcile with the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transsexual (LGBT) community. As one means of fostering reconciliation, the “I’m Sorry” campaign within the Marin Foundation encourages individuals to post online video confessionals, stating what they are sorry for and how they intend to make things better for the LGBT community. This study examines these online video confessionals as a unique site of identity negotiation for Christian individuals attempting to reconcile with the LGBT community. Rhetorical analysis of the videos revealed that the individuals drew from a specific repertoire of apology and suggestions for future action, which fell in line with Kenneth Burke’s notion of scapegoating and mortification. As a result, the “story of self” articulated by the individuals failed to be coherent with both the stated goals of the foundation and the main tenets of Evangelical Christian identity.

Keywords

online identity Evangelical Christianity lived religion scapegoating mortification Kenneth Burke LGBT

Introduction

On June 27, 2010, the 41st annual gay pride parade took place on the streets of Chicago, IL. Amidst the typical riot of color, one group stood out. Clad in simple black T-shirts and holding handwritten signs, this group—the Marin Foundation—had come to protest. However, this was no typical protest. The message on their T-shirts was simple: “I’m sorry.” The signs they held provided more explanation, bearing statements such as “I’m sorry Christians judge you,” “I’m sorry for how the Church has treated you,” and “I used to be a Bible-banging homophobe – SORRY!” (Marin Foundation, n.d.-b). Images of the protest went viral after members of the parade began to interact with the protesters. One of these images, which featured a protestor hugging a parade participant in his underwear, was named Buzzfeed’s “#1 Picture that will restore your faith in humanity” in 2012 (Shepherd).

Since that time, the “I’m Sorry” campaign has appeared at a number of other gay pride parades in the United States and abroad (Marin Foundation, n.d.-a). In addition to holding apology protests at gay pride parades, the organization has provided a number of other venues for Christian individuals to reconcile with the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) population. As stated in their mission, the Marin Foundation seeks “to build bridges between the LGBT community and the Church through scientific research, biblical and social education, and diverse community gatherings” (Marin Foundation, n.d.-a).

This attempt to build bridges between the Christian and LGBT communities is no small feat because LGBT populations have historically been subject to intense critique by the conservative, Evangelical Christians (Arnold, 2001; Borgman, 2009; Levy & Lo, 2013; Ramet, 2005; Walton, 2006). Most nondenominational Evangelical Christian congregations define LGBT identities as sinful, citing key passages from both the Old and New Testaments of the Bible as support for this position (Levy & Lo, 2013; Maddux, 2001). These issues are necessarily bound up with sexual and gender identity, as cis-gendered heterosexuality is cast as the biblical norm against which other gender and sexual identities are evaluated (Levy & Lo, 2013). However, recent changes have given rise to new interpretations of sexuality and gender identity within the Christian church: for example, the Supreme Court issued a ruling on June 26, 2015 making same-sex marriage legal in all 50 states, provisions of the Defense of Marriage Act and Proposition 8 (which defined marriage as between a man and woman) were both declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court, and Pat Robertson—a key leader of the Christian Right—stated during an interview that he does not see being transgender as sinful. This statement effectually reversed previous Evangelical Christian evaluations of the transgender community (Robertson, 2013). Further research into sexuality, gender, and Christian identity is therefore warranted in order to understand how these challenges to Christian sexual identity are being negotiated.

Identity, characterized by Lövheim (2004) as the “story of self,” is a provocative site of study for scholars of digital religion because Internet provides unique opportunities for individuals to integrate multiple and complex sources of religious meaning into a “coherent story of self in relation to the transcendent” (p. 63). Within Evangelical Christian identity, the way that this “story of self” is constructed and negotiated has high stakes because one’s story is expected to be coherent with the dominant narratives of Evangelical Christianity¹ (Walton, 2006). The view of gay and lesbian sexual identities as sinful represents one such narrative: the lesbian, gay male, bisexual, or transgender individual is characterized as a particularly visible kind of sinner, one who is outside the norms of the community and in need of repentance and redemption. However, certain groups have begun to challenge this dominant narrative.

The Marin Foundation provides a rich example of a group that has offered an alternative perspective regarding LGBT and Evangelical Christian relations. Founded in 2005 by Andrew Marin, the foundation exists “to build bridges between the LGBT Community and the Church through scientific research, biblical and social education, and diverse community gatherings” (Marin Foundation, n.d.-a). The foundation is a 501c3 nonprofit that partners with a number of different individuals and groups, including “conservative and progressive religious entities and the LGBT community,” churches, nongovernmental organizations, higher educational institutions, and government agencies (Marin Foundation, n.d.-a). As stated on the “Mission” page of their website, “We are a Movement shaped by bold individuals of reconciliation, whose orientation is one of love, who live in the tension and refuse to allow hate, disagreements, or past experiences cause division in any community” (Marin Foundation, n.d.-a).

One of the more prominent aspects of the Marin Foundation is the “I’m Sorry” campaign: “an effort to apologize to the LGBT community for the ways Christians have caused harm” (Marin Foundation, n.d.-a). As Ammerman (2003) notes, “special purpose organizations can engender both the rationale and the practices” (p. 208) by which an alternative Evangelical identity may be sustained. As one such special interest foundation, the Marin Foundation seeks to fundamentally change the Christian church’s relationship with the LGBT community, shifting the Christian identity from judgment to acceptance of LGBT individuals. Much of the conversation regarding LGBT relations occurs during face-to-face interactions (such as community discussions), but one provocative component of their website includes a kind of video confessional where people who have joined the “I’m Sorry” campaign can confess their transgressions toward the LGBT community or share personal stories of how they have changed their attitudes and behaviors as a result of the campaign. Taking this context into consideration, the following research question (RQ) is proposed in relation to this case study: How is conservative, Evangelical Christian identity rhetorically constructed and negotiated in pro-LGBT online video confessionals?

Evangelical Christian Identity, Sexuality, and Gender

Broadly speaking, identity can be defined as understanding oneself “as a person distinct from others but also related to other people in a certain context” (Lövheim, 2004, p. 59). As individuals respond to situations, they do so from a position that is “heavily conditioned by the reactions of others, which confirm or call into question” (Lövheim, 2004, p. 60) the individual’s assumed position. One’s identity is therefore based on “the meanings and practices upheld in certain contexts” (Lövheim, 2004, p. 60), which are shaped by specific cultural meanings and practices. Individuals thus situate themselves within specific social groups by responding to situations according to the prescribed norms of that group (Evangelical Christians being an example of one such group). When individuals engage in actions or responses that fall in line with a group’s norms, they engage in what Kenneth Burke calls identification. However, identity and identification are fraught with turmoil and contradiction, as individuals are simultaneously members of many different groups (e.g., American citizen, religious practitioner, and academic).

Because the belief structures of these groups are often not entirely congruent with each other, individuals are made up of multiple, partially conflicting identities that must be continuously negotiated (Burke, 1937). Individuals therefore engage in a hierarchy of identifications where they choose—whether consciously or subconsciously—which group’s norms and values will supercede others. According to Wright, group gatherings are one means by which groups solidify unity. As a case in point, one might consider church services in which individuals come together to be united under their unifying belief in Christ’s love and acceptance (Wright, 1994). For believers involved in church life, the meanings and practices of one’s congregation become vital to articulating one’s story of self. For Evangelical Christians, this story must fall in line with a very specific narrative regarding sexuality. It is this narrative and its implications for Evangelical Christian identity that will now be discussed.

Historically, Evangelical Christian interpretations of sexual identity can be divided into two camps: the liberal and the conservative (Maddux, 2001). While both groups use a common text to support their interpretations (the Christian Bible), liberal and conservative interpretations diverge based on the type of interpretation or exegesis that is engaged. As Maddux (2001) explains, a more conservative interpretation—employed most often by conservative, Evangelical Christians—relies on literal interpretation of Biblical texts, “taking their meaning strictly from the words of the text” (p. 94). This interpretive perspective results in divinely ordained boundaries surrounding gender and sexuality that clearly distinguish cis-gendered male from female and prescribe corresponding sexual behaviors, such as heterosexuality. Levy and Lo (2013) explain that conservative Christians find these definitions in Bible verses such as Genesis 1:27, which reads, “So God created man in His own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them” (p. 61). Bible verses thought to condemn lesbian and gay sexual orientations are also cited to support normative sexual identities within Christianity. For example, the biblical narrative of Sodom and Gomorrah has been interpreted as punishment on the city for lesbian and gay sexual behavior, serving as a warning against such actions (Maddux, 2001).

The conservative interpretation of sexual identity, as employed by Evangelical Christian groups, has created an environment that is largely hostile toward those who exist outside of male/female binary and its corresponding heterosexual norms. Borgman (2009) notes that the Evangelical Christian church can be “a source of negative messages about homosexuality and sexual orientation … These messages become ingrained and difficult to revise” (p. 517). As a result, “individuals who identify as transgender, transsexual, gender queer, gender nonconforming, or gender variant and Christian face a unique set of challenges in attempting to integrate their faith and gender identity” (Levy & Lo, 2013, p. 61). These individuals often feel compelled to choose between either their faith or their sexual identity (Wilcox, 2003). However, these challenges are faced not only by LGBT Christians but also by Christians who fall within the conservative interpretation of sexual identity and wish to support those who do not conform.

As conservative Evangelical Christian churches disseminate the message that LGBT identity is antithetical to Christianity, they necessarily construct the LGBT community as an “other” that the conservative, Evangelical Christian community must be against. Walton (2006) explains, “Anti-homosexual attitudes and sentiments, especially those of right-wing Christians, are based on perceptions that gays and lesbians, and their supporters, are attacking an institution and the values it represents, that they hold dear” (p. 14). This perspective creates serious identity conflict for heteronormative Christian individuals who are uncomfortable with an anti-LGBT stance. LGBT allies (individuals supportive of the LGBT community) who are Christians are in a tenuous position, as they experience conflict between their religious beliefs and their convictions regarding LGBT individuals; this conflict consists of “intense, internal discord characterized by questioning of beliefs, God, sexual orientation, sexuality, and self” (Borgman, 2009, p. 511).

The conservative, Evangelical church has played an important role in shaping societal views of the LGBT community. Indeed, the idea that LGBT identities are “immoral and unnatural has become axiomatic in societies that are dominated by Christian values” (Walton, 2006, p. 15) such as the United States. How, then might individuals who wish to challenge dominant conservative conceptions of Christian sexual identity negotiate these identity conflicts? For many, one safe space where identity can be challenged and redefined by religious practitioners is online.

Religious Identity Online

Mia Lövheim (2013) describes two key components to identity: “formation and presentation,” of which religion is a key component (p. 42). Identity formation is a dynamic, ongoing process as an individual’s “experience of her own identity is continuously being formed over time by forging a biography or story of the self from the lessons learned from different situations that arise in everyday life” (Lövheim, 2004, p. 59). For religious individuals such as conservative, Evangelical Christians, “religious stories provide a foundation for organizing the relations between different groups in society and hence for the formation and reiteration of ascribed social identities” (Lövheim, 2004, p. 60). Religious ideology in the form of narratives thus provides a framework through which the individual can make sense of one’s identity within the larger society.

The existence of a controlling narrative, however, does not ensure that the individual will have a stable, coherent identity (as Burke also pointed out). Individuals will necessarily encounter differing values, norms, and beliefs from different parts of society. Practitioners negotiate these conflicting views, finding ways to reconcile their contradictory beliefs (Lövheim, 2004). Through narratives on social platforms such as social networks and blogs, religious individuals can engage in self-expression and critical discourse regarding their beliefs (Cheong, Halavais, & Kwon, 2008; Livingstone, 2002, 2008).

Campbell has built on Lövheim’s articulation of religious identity online by forwarding the concept of “storied identity.” This concept stems from Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgical approach to identity. In it, Campbell (2012) states that the “processes of construction and performance” of religious identity online “lead people to seek out a storied identity as they attempt to find and create coherence amidst the fluidity of the Internet” (p. 11). In other words, when confronted with the myriad options available for constructing and enacting one’s identity, individuals attempt to create a consistent narrative. It is impossible that any one form of “storied” identity would be entirely consistent; therefore, individuals must emphasize certain aspects of their identity and deemphasize others through their narrative as they attempt to negotiate these inherent contradictions. The Internet provides unique affordances for forming religious identity. Campbell (2012) points to practices such as blogging that provide one means by which individuals articulate a consistent “story of self.” The emphasis on identity construction as an individual rather than a collective process resonates with the concept of “lived religion” in which individuals live out their daily religious practice autonomously, drawing from multiple sources to inform their religious practice (Campbell, 2012).

The Internet thus provides a means of sustaining, forming, and negotiating religious identities by individuals through narrative, drawing from a number of sources (as opposed to conforming with more traditional, prescribed forms of religious identity). The video confessionals on the Marin Foundation website are one such form of personal narrative, used to negotiate the perceived contradictions between Evangelical, Christian identity and pro-LGBT sensibilities.

To date, research regarding Evangelical Christian identity has focused on the offline context and is located primarily within psychology and counseling studies (Arnold, 2001; Borgman, 2009; Levy & Lo, 2013; Rhodes, 2010; Rodriguez, 2010; Walton, 2006). While these studies provide interesting insights, they neither take into account the unique affordances of online contexts nor do they explicate the role of communication and, specifically, narrative in negotiating these conflicting identities. And while Lövheim’s (2004, 2013) work provides a solid foundation for discussing religious identity negotiation online, it would be useful to deepen her work by investigating the way that individuals from a specific faith tradition (such as Evangelical Christianity) negotiate identity using a novel forum, such as the online confessional-style videos posted to the Marin Foundation website.

Online Video Confessionals

As a text, the Marin Foundation videos can be seen as a unique form of online confessional. Online confessionals are websites where users anonymously express guilt, regret, or reveal truths about oneself that may be seen as incongruent with societal norms or religious doctrine in a text-based environment (Borer & Schafer, 2011; Ogan, 2006; Poletti, 2011; Wood & Ward, 2010). Borer and Schafer (2011) examined online confessionals as they were used by Christian mixed martial arts fans and found that the online confessional was used as a tool to negotiate the perceived conflicts between users’ religious beliefs and pastimes. Ogan’s (2006) study of online Turkish confessionals examined a site that contained confessions related to religious belief despite the fact that the site was not expressly religious. Beyond posting confessions on the site, users also read and empathized with other users’ posts, identified with other users, and reinscribed their existing identities. The confessional videos on the Marin Foundation serve a similar purpose: Individuals use the video format to express guilt or shame for the way they have treated the LGBT community. Presumably, the video creators share what they have done wrong with the expectation that others will view the videos and empathize with them, similarly to the Turkish online confessional.

The Marin Foundation videos differ from online confessionals in two important ways: first, the videos are not anonymous, and second, the Marin confessionals are video rather than text-based. To this end, the Marin confessionals also include elements of digital storytelling. Kaare (2008) defines digital storytelling as a genre of “mini-films, told in the first person, using the creator’s own voice” (p. 197). Lundby (2008) adds that digital storytelling is a self-representational narrative that gives voice to an individual as he or she challenges institutional norms in some fashion. Although digital storytelling typically contains some visual media element, the main focus of this medium is to provide individuals with a means to share their stories, engage with an audience, appreciate difference, and engage creatively (Kaare, 2008). Digital storytelling has been used as both an educational and expressive tool in religious contexts, and identity work is a central theme within this genre (Kaare, 2008, 2012). While the Marin Foundation videos may not actively engage the creative process to make these simple confessional videos, the creators nonetheless use a digital medium to share their voice, engage with an audience, and express an appreciation for difference, locating them at the nexus of online confessional and digital storytelling.

These online video confessions potentially provide individuals with the opportunity to present an identity that is amenable to embracing the LGBT community by confessing what they have done in the past and articulating how they are changing their attitudes and beliefs toward the LGBT community. The video confessionals also provide viewers with the opportunity to encounter an alternative view regarding how Evangelical Christians should interact with the LGBT community.

The present study will therefore engage in a rhetorical analysis of Marin Foundation online video confessionals with the end goal of describing how they provide a means of negotiating their seemingly incompatible Evangelical Christian and LGBT-affirming identities. Because the creators of the videos construct a specific narrative for the purpose of explaining their efforts to become LGBT-inclusive Christians, I will explore the following RQ:

RQ: How is conservative, Evangelical Christian identity rhetorically constructed and negotiated in Marin Foundation online video confessionals?

Methodology

This case study involved rhetorical analysis of online video confessionals appearing on the Marin Foundation website. These videos were hosted on the “I’m Sorry” campaign page and served the function of encouraging individuals to take the “I’m Sorry” pledge. The site hosted a total of 13 videos, all posted by the individuals on YouTube and linked on the Marin Foundation website. Each of the individuals in the videos fit Bebbington’s (1989) characteristics of Evangelical Christianity, as their responses tended to venerate the Bible, demonstrate gratitude for the atoning work of Christ’s death and resurrection, acknowledge the need for conversion, and actively engage in presenting the Gospel in a particular fashion. The videos ranged in length from 30 seconds to 4 minutes in which individuals responded to the question, “What are you sorry about and in what specific way will you commit to making things better for individuals in the LGBT community” (Marin Foundation, n.d.-b). All of the videos were posted in June 2011. An attempt was made to collect more recent videos, but a representative of the Marin Foundation stated that no new videos had been sent to the organization since 2011 (M. Guerra, personal communication, November 16, 2013).

All 13 videos were viewed and transcribed by the researcher. The transcripts were then closely read, and grounded rhetorical analysis was used to identify recurrent themes and rhetorical strategies employed by the individual video contributors (VCs) as they discursively negotiated becoming an LGBT ally with their Christian identities. This method of analysis involves what Michael Leff and Andrew Sachs (1990) call “careful interpretive work” that allows the critic to create “a complex structure of meaning by imbricating the formal and ideational dimensions of language” (pp. 252–273). Close reading therefore involves carefully situating a text within its context in order to identify the “rhetorical features embedded within it” (Leff & Sachs, 1990, p. 257). As Leff and Sachs (1990) explain,

working from within the text, the critic proceeds to make inferences about what the work is designed to do, how it is designed to do it, and how well that design functions to structure and transmit meanings within the realm of public experience. (p. 256)

This process requires that the critic sustains a careful balance between the “intrinsic and extrinsic dimension of the critical process,” creating a “productive tension” that allows the critic to explicate the “larger discursive formations, and shifting interpretations of cultural and ideological scenes” afforded by the text (Leff & Sachs, 1990, p. 257). Clearly, rhetorical analysis is an interpretive act. As Joan Leach (2000) notes, the interpretive nature of rhetorical analysis is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness, as “on the one hand, it is flexible and interpretive; and on the other hand, it is inconsistent and subject to the strengths and weaknesses of the analyst” (p. 218). However, by carefully engaging the tension between the intrinsic (the text itself) and extrinsic (contextual) elements of the text, the critic can provide useful insights into the rhetorical strategies employed in a text. In this case, the formal restrictions imposed on the video contributors by the Marin Foundation’s guiding questions have been used to structure the analysis.

The questions posed by the Marin Foundation necessarily limited the possible responses of the individual video contributors, resulting in two main categories: the content of the apology (i.e., what the individual claimed to be sorry for) and the individual’s suggested plan of action (or what the individual planned to do to make things better toward the future). Within each category, close attention was paid to the manner in which the individual reconciled his or her Christian identity with acceptance of the LGBT community. For the sake of brevity, the individual videos are henceforth referred to as VC and the video’s corresponding number listed in Appendix (e.g., VC1). Videos are arranged in the Appendix according to the date posted on YouTube.

Analysis and Findings

While each of the individuals in the Marin Foundation video confessionals took a slightly different approach to answering the prompt provided by the organization (What are you sorry about and in what specific way will you commit to making things better for individuals in the LGBT community?), some common themes emerged. In this section, these common themes are explicated as they relate to the RQ. First, the major themes relating to the individuals’ apologies to the LGBT community will be analyzed; this is followed by an examination of the contributors’ proposed future actions. Finally, the implications for each of these themes with regard to Evangelical Christian identity are explicated.

Apology to the LGBT Community

Two main themes emerged from the individuals’ apologies to the LGBT community: institutional scapegoating and mortification (or self-blame). The way the individuals articulated their apologies functioned to absolve them of guilt for their beliefs and actions regarding the LGBT community, while others took full personal responsibility for their views. As will be explained more fully in the following paragraphs, the stance taken by the individual in his or her apology resulted in differing strategies for reconciling Evangelical Christian identity with full acceptance of the LGBT community.

Institutional scapegoating

Institutional scapegoating—in which the individuals placed blame on the church for their view of lesbian or gay sexual orientation as a sin and those individuals as sinners—was overwhelmingly present in the video confessions. The scapegoating took place both overtly and tacitly. For example, one individual stated that she was “sorry for the church that doesn’t know all the wonderful LGBT people I know” (VC1). The VCs also expressed regret for the way that LGBT individuals have been “hurt by the church” (VC2), as well as a desire to change the way that churches treat the LGBT community by bringing the discussion of LGBT issues into the church and discussing “the pain that the church has hurt other people with” (VC6). Most of the individuals held the Christian church as a whole directly responsible for creating an atmosphere hostile to the LGBT community. As one contributor explained while sharing an experience a friend had after coming out,“ … he taught me a lot about his struggles and a lot about what the church had done and said to him, uh, that had made him kind of introvert into himself and, uh, stay away from the church community” (VC7).

Institutional scapegoating also took place tacitly, as the individuals claimed ignorance of the truth regarding the LGBT community. In this case, knowledge of the truth involved recognizing that LGBT individuals are deserving of the Evangelical Christian community’s acceptance and love. The VCs’ ignorance of this truth was often linked to a faulty education, from the individual’s family, religious school, or church. For example, one individual stated, “I’m really sorry that I grew up in the church and went to a Christian school and I wasn’t taught justice until I was a senior in college” (VC7). Another expressed similar frustration that she grew up “believing what all the churches there … told me to believe” (VC4). From a slightly different perspective, another contributor cited a personal circumstance with a cousin who came out in her Evangelical Christian family, expressing anger at her cousin “for changing our family and changing … the dynamics of how we interact with one another” (VC11). Yet another contributor placed blame on the family unit for constructing a specific ontological perspective in which lesbian and gay sexual orientations were described as abnormal or sinful; the individual’s experiences in an Evangelical Christian family therefore led to a story of self that forestalled any possibility of accepting LGBT individuals. These individuals’ identities were bound up in affirming the biblically correct notion of heterosexual relationships, while firmly rejecting any “sinful” sexual identities that challenged that norm. These ideological commitments were characterized as coming from an authority figure, thereby absolving the individual of blame for these beliefs. In both the overt and tacit instances of scapegoating, individuals were therefore afforded the opportunity to avoid culpability for rejecting the LGBT comunity.

According to Kenneth Burke (1939), scapegoating is a rhetorical tool individuals use to achieve purification by dissociation, constructing an external enemy rather than “battling an enemy within” (p. 212). Through this act of dissociation, individuals are also able to move forward toward a goal and away from the tainted scapegoat—in this case, the church. As Burke (1939) notes, “the greater one’s internal inadequacies, the greater amount of evils one can load upon the back of ‘the enemy’” (p. 212). As the individuals placed blame on the church rather than taking responsibility for their actions, they revealed the depth of their own remorse regarding their role in the church’s treatment of the LGBT community. Reconciling their identity as Christians with acceptance of the LGBT community therefore made eschewing the church’s authority—including anti-LGBT beliefs and the biblical interpretations that led to these beliefs—necessary. The contributors characterized the church as a harmful institution with a faulty ideology that used its power and authority to alienate and harm LGBT individuals. The individuals responded by rhetorically dissociating themselves from the church and thereby purifying themselves.

By rejecting the church’s authority, these individuals invoked a new authority located not in an institution but within the individuals and those like them. This exemplifies the tendency toward a “pick n mix” approach toward religion in an online context: The VCs are able to reject those elements of Christianity seen as incompatible with their views toward the LGBT community and embrace those parts that support their view, thereby “mixing multiple sources or forms of spiritual self-expression” (Campbell, 2012, p. 23). As the contributors shared their apologies, they chose to identify primarily with the message of love in Christianity while rejecting Biblical literalism. This choice fundamentally changes the Evangelical identity, as Evangelical Christians have traditionally engaged in a fundamentalist—or literal—interpretation of the Bible. By rejecting biblical literalism, the contributors asserted their own agency. However, they did so in ways that failed to resonate with the goals of the Marin Foundation.

The strategy of institutional scapegoating diverges from Marin Foundation ideology in significant ways. The vision and mission on the Marin Foundation’s website emphasize individual responsibility, making it the individual’s responsibility to facilitate reconciliation between the LGBT community and the church. Placing blame on the church made it possible for individuals to reconcile with the LGBT community, but not the church as a whole. Institutional scapegoating therefore failed to accomplish the aims of the Marin Foundation because it created a rhetorical schism between the individual and the church. In order to accomplish the goal of reconciliation forwarded by the Marin Foundation, strong relationships with the Christian church are necessary; institutional scapegoating would hinder the achievement of this goal.

Mortification

The second theme in the video confessions dealing with apology was mortification. While not as prevalent as institutional scapegoating, a number of contributors expressed that they felt personally responsible for marginalizing the LGBT community in a number of ways. For example, one contributor apologized for “making judgments and thoughts and basing my personal convictions and personal thoughts on issues I’ve never really read” (VC3). Another contributor took her apology a step further, stating, “as a Christian I’ve failed to see that people, regardless of what their sexual orientation is, deserve respect and that Jesus … loves everyone passionately” (VC5). She continued, expressing regret that “at any point I felt like I was better than somebody else based on being a heterosexual is really sad and, um, I’m really sorry for it” (VC5). Other VCs stated that they were sorry for their lack of action and failing to be allies to the LGBT community. Another contributor stated,

as a Christian I am sorry to the gay lesbian community for … the way that I ignored the pain and the hurt and issues that were going on for so long … I am sorry that I didn’t really take a stand for people who were being marginalized. (VC10)

Another VC expressed remorse for failing to speak out on behalf of the LGBT community during a public interaction (VC12).

By taking personal responsibility for their beliefs and actions regarding the LGBT community, these individuals engaged in mortification, which Kenneth Burke (1961) defines as the process by which individuals suffer or engage in self-sacrifice for their guilt or sins. In so doing, they constructed a narrative in which they exhibited personal agency. That is to say, these contributors rhetorically narrated a story of self in which they set the terms of their belief, providing their own interpretations of scripture and choosing which aspects of their faith would be acted upon. In this case, the contributors chose to interpret Christ’s love for the LGBT community as an issue deserving immediate attention. The concept of agency is prevalent within discussions of Evangelical Christian identity, where personal agency and choice regarding one’s conversion is a central component of one’s faith (Walton, 2006). By situating culpability within the individual rather than the institution, these contributors were able to weave a new story of self in which the role of the individual—not the institution—was central. This rhetorical choice also had implications for the goals of the Marin Foundation as a whole.

As stated previously, the role of the individual is central to the Marin Foundation’s ideology. The organization positions the individual as having the power to engage in “relational reconciliation” with the LGBT community on behalf of the church (Marin Foundation, n.d.-b). By engaging in individual acts of love and acceptance both within and outside of the church, the Marin Foundation seeks to facilitate reconciliation through dialogue, which necessarily occurs on an individual level. By emphasizing personal agency, these individuals rhetorically enacted a core principle of the Marin Foundation, focusing specifically on ways that they as Christians had caused harm to the LGBT community (Marin Foundation, n.d.-b). This notion of agency and culpability becomes important for the role of the institution in the individual’s suggestion for future action, which will be explained further below.

Future Actions

As stated previously, the prompt posed by the “I’m Sorry” campaign asked the contributors not only what they were sorry for but also what they would do in the future to make things better for the LGBT community. Two main themes emerged from the contributor responses: institutional change and personal relationship with the LGBT community. Interestingly, the role of the institution in the apology directly affected the nature of change advocated by the individual.

Institutional change

A large proportion of VCs advocated for institutional change (change within the church), although the suggestions were somewhat varied. Much of the institutional change advocated took the form of education, whether by disseminating literature (VC2) or taking a leadership role in the church with the intent of educating others in the contributors’ new-found LGBT-friendly beliefs. For example, one contributor stated a desire to become a pastor in order to “practically create a community” in which LGBT individuals can “embrace Jesus, and … serve the God that we know that loves everybody and does not discriminate” (VC7). Along the same lines, another contributor shared plans to “do youth ministry out in Southern California and … transform it (the church) into a gay loving and accepting church” (VC9). Interestingly, the individuals most likely to advocate institutional change were those who engaged in institutional scapegoating, suggesting that individuals who placed the blame on the church were more likely to advocate change within the structure at large—meaning change within church doctrine and practices—rather than individual change.

The focus on institutional change clearly links into the mission and vision of the Marin Foundation, as the foundation seeks to build bridges between the LGBT community and the Evangelical Christian church. By suggesting action within the confines of the church, these contributors suggest the very kind of change advocated by the Marin Foundation, as acting within the church could potentially foster dialogue between church members and the LGBT community. However, the individuals who advocated institutional change were also those who engaged in the institutional scapegoating, which strips the individual of agency. The combination of institutional change and institutional scapegoating therefore becomes troubling because it is unreasonable to think that individuals who have dissociated themselves from the church would have the credibility to create meaningful change. However, this view was not advocated by all of the contributors; instead, some advocated change through personal relationship.

Personal relationship

A number of individuals chose to respond to the LGBT community by pledging to form and maintain personal relationships with the LGBT community. These individuals also advocated education to an extent, but the education they proposed was their own. For example, one contributor stated that he planned to “research … meeting people and talk to people and engage in conversations and really get to now people and find out from people what it is that is behind issues more than statistics and more than paper” (VC3). This contributor characterized his response to the LGBT community as an ongoing, personal process that involved creating and maintaining relationship with members of the LGBT community. Similarly, another contributor expressed a desire to

make amends with the people in my life who I’ve hurt and try and build those relationships back up, to say I’m sorry to them specifically and to try to live as a Christian the way Christ wants me to live, to be a love to everyone … (VC5)

Individuals who advocated personal relationship as an appropriate response to the LGBT community also tended to support their stance by referencing the desires of Christ. VC 10 demonstrated this, stating that she desires relationship with LGBT individuals precisely because of her beliefs:

I believe that God is a loving God and that everyone deserves … a chance to know that he is there and that he loves them, he is listening, that he wants to be … a rock in their life and that he wants to be that place for them and so that’s why I care and that’s why I do that … (VC10).

Individuals advocating personal relationship also stated that they would be active allies to the LGBT community, as one contributor explained: “I promise from here on out, wherever there is intolerance spoken or hatred spoken that I won’t be silent, that I’ll speak up” (VC12).

The individuals who advocated change through personal relationships with the LGBT community were also those individuals who recognized personal culpability in their apology to the LGBT community. As discussed previously, recognizing personal culpability represented a rhetorical approach that was congruent with Evangelical Christian identity. Just as the Evangelical Christian faith places emphasis on the individual’s personal choice to accept Christ, these contributors articulated a similar kind of conversion story. As a result of their conversion, the individuals proposed action on an individual (as opposed to an institutional) level.

The story of self articulated here mirrored the identity forwarded by the Marin Foundation to some extent: The Marin Foundation advocates reconciliation through dialogue, which necessarily occurs on an individual level. In essence, these individuals attempted to create a new “story of self” for the Evangelical Christian that emphasized care for and interaction with the individual—LGBT or otherwise—over larger institutional commitments. However, these contributors failed to capture the institutional change (reconciliation between the church and LGBT community as a whole) that is the end goal of the Marin Foundation. Despite its shortcomings, the identity narrative constructed by these contributors seems to be more congruent with both normative Evangelical Christian thought and Marin Foundation goals: These individuals were able to reconcile a more favorable orientation toward the LGBT community with their faith by using a mode of reasoning (personal agency) that makes sense within an Evangelical framework while fulfilling the goals of the Marin Foundation to some extent.

Conclusion

As I have argued, members of the Marin Foundation’s “I’m Sorry” campaign who posted online video confessionals rhetorically negotiated their identity using one of two strategies: either by scapegoating the institution of the church or by accepting personal culpability for harm (mortification) done to the LGBT community by the Christian church. It is noteworthy that although the Marin Organization’s stated goal is to reconcile Christians and the LGBT community, all of the individual online video confessionals discussed gay men and lesbians; transgender and bisexual identities were conspicuously absent. It is not clear whether this is a function of those individuals’ lived experiences or a failing of the organization to bring light to challenges faced by all members of the LGBT community. With regard to the “story of self” articulated by the VCs, individuals who engaged in institutional scapegoating advocated changing the church in order to remedy harms done to the LGBT community, while those who accepted personal culpability chose to engage in personal relationships with members of the LGBT community. While this study is necessarily limited due to the size and availability of the sample, its results are provocative both for what they reveal about the Marin Foundation and for lived religion online.

Interestingly, none of the VCs were able to articulate an apology and a suggestion for action that were coherent both with Marin Foundation goals and Evangelical Christian identity. The contributors who scapegoated the church and advocated institutional (church-based) change reflected the ultimate goal of the Marin Foundation but failed to provide an apology that matched the foundation’s ideology: that all members of the Christian church have played a role in alienating the LGBT community at some point. Additionally, those who scapegoated sought to absolve themselves of blame by dissociating themselves from the church: an action that is wholly inconsistent with an Evangelical Christian ideology in which adherence to authority is valued. On the other hand, the contributors who engaged in mortification by accepting personal culpability and advocated change on a personal level were able to engage personal agency. As such, their method of apology reflected the Marin Foundation’s method of dialogue. However, they ultimately failed to engage the foundation’s larger goal of helping the church as a whole to reconcile with the LGBT community. When taking into account the expectations of Evangelical Christian thought and the goals of the Marin Foundation, this second group was able to articulate a more consistent identity (or story of self) because of their focus on personal agency. To more precisely answer the original RQ, Evangelical Christianity is rhetorically constructed as problematic in these videos because of its negative view toward the LGBT community and thus becomes—for both groups of contributors—an ideology that must be repaired, either through institutional or personal action.

As scholars of digital religion have noted, faith-based organizations have and will continue to find ways to interact with practitioners and potential members in online contexts (Campbell, 2012; Cheong et al., 2008; Helland, 2000). Individual practitioners have therefore found themselves functioning within a networked society where “social relations are increasingly decentralized, yet interconnected and … supported by a social-technical infrastructure” (Campbell, 2012, p. 7). The online video confessionals posted to the Marin Foundation’s “I’m Sorry” campaign reflect Campbell’s (2012) conception of online religion in a networked society because this iteration of Evangelical Christianity online “is informed by the technological structures of the internet such as flattening of traditional hierarchies, encouraging instantaneous communication and response, and widening access to sacred or once private information” (p. 7).

Each of these characteristics was present throughout the “I’m Sorry” campaign video confessionals. First, hierarchies were flattened, as all of the individuals rejected the normative authority structure of the Evangelical Christian church, preferring the ideology of the Marin Foundation over the Evangelical ideology in which most of the contributors were raised. The “I’m Sorry” campaign also encouraged instantaneous communication and response, as the website encouraged individuals to upload their own stories. Additionally, some (but not all) of the videos included a “comments” section in which individuals could respond to the video content. Finally, the very fact that these videos are posted online gives an almost infinite number of people access to the “confessions” of these individuals regarding their views on the Christian church and the LGBT community—personal stories that would not normally be widely disseminated.

Ostensibly, the Marin Foundation encourages these videos to be posted so that potential “converts” to the Marin Foundation’s ideology will watch the videos and use the information contained therein to make their own decisions. This is a core characteristic of online religion: the Marin Foundation provides individuals with “various resources and meanings from which they can select, assemble, and present a sense of self” (Campbell, 2012, p. 11). The videos on the Marin Foundation website can also be seen as an example of one way that Evangelical Christianity with a more postmodern sensibility can be performed as individuals draw from “alternative frameworks for interpretation” and articulate “critical discourse of the institutionalized nature of the church” (Cheong et al., 2008, p. 125). This perspective necessarily challenges the dominant story of self regarding gender and sexuality within Evangelical Christian thought as explained in the literature (Borgman, 2009; Levy & Lo, 2013; Maddux, 2001; Walton, 2006). The Marin Foundation videos clearly demonstrate “lived religion” because the individuals within the videos relied on individual interpretations of religious practice that they drew from a number of sources rather than the more traditional forms of identity present within the Evangelical church. This finding also echoes Yip’s (2002) data from the United Kingdom, which revealed a lack of “influence and impact of religious authority structures” on nonheterosexual Christians’ views of sexuality and spirituality, which he cites as evidence of “detraditionalization” within the United Kingdom’s religious landscape (p. 199). The resonance between Yip’s work in the United Kingdom and this study suggests that a weakened perception of religious authority is potentially a necessary step for individuals—and indeed, a culture—seeking to reconcile Christian faith with LGBT acceptance.

The concept of “lived religion” as autonomous practice presents interesting issues for organizations such as the Marin Foundation. The individuals in the online video confessionals were ultimately unable to articulate a “storied identity” that was coherent both with Evangelical Christianity and Marin Foundation goals and beliefs. While this may simply be a failure of the Marin Foundation to clearly articulate their ideology, this may also be a unique challenge within the context of religion online as practitioners—no longer bound to the static ideology of their forebears—must make their own choices and articulate their own beliefs. Presented with such challenges, groups like the Marin Foundation who attempt to change the nature of religious belief must find ways to help their affiliates articulate a consistent identity in this increasingly diverse, complicated, and media-saturated context.

Footnotes

Appendix: Listing of Video Confessions

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Note

Author Biography

Andrea J. Terry is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Communication at Texas A&M University where she studies rhetoric and public affairs. Her work has been published in the Journal of Communication and Religion, Wiley-Blackwell’s International Encyclopedia of Political Communication, and the Journal of Religion, Media, and Digital Culture.

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