I have always wondered why sexuality and gender identity have become the dominant concern for so many people. I start from the church context, where both have become touchstones of orthodoxy, for those the churches charitably call “traditional” and for others who are lumped together as “progressives”. For some, taking a stand for inclusion, or setting limits to participation, or simple exclusion is a mark of the True Church.

I have to look beyond the churches’ preoccupation to the realm of power and politics: The “Don’t Say Gay” laws in American states, the “Don’t Be Gay” laws in places like Hungary and Russia, the “Can’t Be Trans Here” policies around the world.

Christians and others use sacred texts to justify their professed convictions. This goes deeper than quoting scripture or appealing to sweet reason, as we so-called progressives so often do. Until we go deep, underneath what we say we believe, to what we’ve been conditioned to believe, and really believe there can be no argument or dialogue. It’s beyond words.

I finally understand why the Shorter Catechism begins with a question about our reason for being human beings. The answer, though, adds a layer, on top of our humanity. It quickly moves us from primary to secondary concerns. Every system of belief does that, whether it’s religious or not.

Stay with the Presbyterian question, “What is man’s [sic] chief end?”

What are we here for? I’m conditioned by my culture and learned vocabulary to answer with something like the catechism says. We’re here to live in relationship with one another, and to join with God in the ongoing work of creation.

That doesn’t really answer the question. Whatever we believe about the origin of life, we can’t deny that we are programmed to survive, and to contribute to the survival of humanity. I accept that as the ongoing process of evolution. It’s beyond our control.

We are thinking, speaking beings. We are programmed to seek ways to frame and express what’s beyond our control. We seek understanding. That’s why we move from primary concern to secondary concerns. We learn a vocabulary. We live in a tertiary layer of language, experimentation, and argument. We use words both to express and mask anxiety rooted in our primary concern.

When something sparks our anxiety about the survival of anything we rely on to frame our beliefs about meaning and purpose, we can only see it as a threat. A threat to family as we understand and experience it. A threat to an institution we believe must last forever as we have known it. A threat to our secondary understanding and tertiary expression of identity. Underneath it all is fear for the survival of humanity.

Is it a surprise, then, that the hot-button issues of the day have to do with sexual practice, gender identity, procreation, and self-defence?

More to come…