I grew up in a small church with potlucks, hymnals, and that one squeaky pew. I also have people I love who are gay. So yeah, I wanted help sorting my head and my heart. I picked up “Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate” by Justin Lee. I read it over two rainy Sundays, with a highlighter and a mug that kept going cold because I kept forgetting to drink. For an even fuller look at how the book landed with me, you can peek at my expanded reflection right here.
You know what? It was kind. And clear. And it made me sit with things I’d dodged for years.
What this book actually is
It’s part story, part Bible talk, part bridge-building. Justin grew up Southern Baptist. He realized he was gay. He prayed hard to change. He tried to date girls. He kept his faith. He didn’t change. Then he started talking to people—parents, pastors, friends—and built space for folks like him. He also walks through the “clobber verses” people throw around, but in plain words. If you’d like a concise scholarly rundown on those passages, you might appreciate this examination of what the New Testament says about homosexuality.
No yelling. No gotcha stuff. Just steady steps.
Where it got personal for me
I took this book to our Wednesday night small group. We’re five people, all different ages. I brought sticky notes. I asked two simple questions: “What did you feel?” and “What did you learn?” That helped. It kept the room soft.
- I felt the ache when Justin wrote about praying to be straight and waking up the same. I’ve prayed like that for other things. Not the same, but I knew the shape of it.
- I learned new words I’d heard but never really got. Like when he talked about those two Greek terms people quote (malakoi and arsenokoitai). He explains them without showing off. I wrote in the margin: “Okay, slow down, this matters.”
Later that week, a teen from our church asked, “Can God love me and still let me love who I love?” I didn’t rush my answer. I remembered how the book sat with tension and still felt honest. I said, “God’s love for you isn’t fragile. Let’s keep talking.” We did. We still are. Also, if you’re someone who’s figuring out how dating fits with your faith journey—maybe you’re not aiming for a lifelong commitment right away and just want to explore respectful, boundary-aware connection—check out this primer on casual dating that lays out consent, communication tips, and emotional self-care so you can date kindly and confidently. If you’re in Ohio and think a low-key massage might help you reconnect with your body before you dive into deeper relationship conversations, the locally vetted directory at Rubmaps Youngstown offers up-to-date reviews of nearby studios so you can pick a place that puts privacy, professionalism, and client comfort first.
Real bits from the book that stuck
- Two paths in church life: He lays out how some Christians say same-sex marriage can be faithful, while others say lifelong celibacy is the way. He doesn’t cartoon either side. That felt rare.
- Family scenes: When he told his parents, it wasn’t a TV drama. It was careful. It was real. Not every family looks like that, but it gave me hope for better endings.
- The Bible parts: He walks through verses from Leviticus, Romans, and the letters of Paul. No fancy flourishes. He asks questions about context and language. I caught myself nodding and also pushing back in spots. That’s good reading.
What it felt like to read, page by page
It reads like a long talk after church when the room is quiet and the lights hum. I underlined sentences that sounded like a friend who won’t let you give up. Some parts repeat a touch, but I didn’t mind. It gave me room to breathe.
I didn’t agree with every point. Sometimes I wanted more footnotes or more history. But the heart? Steady. He keeps coming back to love, truth, and the fruit of how we treat people. That test—what fruit does this bear?—stayed with me when I closed the book.
Small group test run (and what worked)
We tried a simple flow:
- One feeling you had while reading
- One question that got bigger
- One next step for our church
Our “next steps” were small on purpose. We added a line to our welcome that says, “You can bring your full self here.” We set up coffee dates for anyone who wanted to process more. No pressure. Just care.
The good, the not-so-good
What I loved:
- Warm, steady voice without snark
- Clear walk-through of Bible texts
- Real life moments that don’t feel staged
- Gentle respect for people on different sides
What I wanted more of:
- A deeper history pass on the ancient world (I like nerd stuff, even with simple words)
- Concrete church practices at the end (like sample prayers or a short guide)
- A clearer map for parents who are brand-new to this
Who should read this
- Pastors and small group leaders who want a calm, smart, pastoral book
- Parents who just heard “I’m gay” and feel scared and also love their kid like crazy
- Straight Christians who don’t know what to say yet
- LGBTQ+ Christians who are tired, and need a book that treats them with care
A quick note on other reads
If you want a more study-heavy take, I’ve also read “God and the Gay Christian” by Matthew Vines. If you’re exploring a celibate path, “Single, Gay, Christian” by Gregory Coles has tender parts too. If you’re after even broader fiction and memoir options starring queer leads, my rundown of titles with unforgettable gay protagonists is over here. And if epic quests, dragons, or time-twisting spells sound fun, my personal stack of 2024’s best gay fantasy adventures lives right here.
But “Torn” is the one I’d hand someone first. It’s a soft landing that still tells the truth.
For more honest, faith-centered reviews of LGBTQ+ literature, check out Gay Book Reviews to see what might speak to you next.
My verdict (and a tiny heart check)
I closed the book and felt both peace and a push. Peace, because the tone felt honest and kind. A push, because love asks us to act, not just nod from the pew.
Score: 4.5 out of 5 sticky notes.
Would I recommend it? Yes. Especially if your heart is tight and your throat feels hot when this topic comes up. Let this book sit with you. Let it slow you down. Then go love people, on purpose, with your words and your choices. Isn’t that the point?