It makes sense why queer Christian theology is often heavily sexually centered, given our history, but the best queer theologians balance it with ace inclusion. Not just as a footnote, but as a core goal. The point is ending amatonormativity and gaining collective liberation, which takes all of us—of every gender, orientation, relationship style, race, ability, culture, and more. Rightfully practiced, Christianity—with the words of Jesus at the center—drives us forward to this goal.
Jesus is as clear of an aromantic asexual Christian role model as we could ever ask for! Embracing found family and breaking gender and class binaries are foundational to his life. There’s just no way to read the gospels and come away with a factual interpretation that centers amatonormativity. That doesn’t stop the global church (now or historically), of course, because institutions and patriarchal power structures are best served by amatonormativity and all that comes with it.
When women are free to earn their own money, when singles are equal to married people, when everyone has the same rights and respect regardless of gender or orientation or relationship status or race or disability, we can liberate ourselves from the oppression that power structures are built on. That’s gospel, as Christlike as it gets, but it’s the exact opposite of what those in power want because it would require true humility, servant leadership, the Beatitudes, sacrifice, and loving others as themselves. It would be for the benefit of all, including themselves, but there’s nothing that scares them more than the risk and exposure of vulnerability.
I truly believe the only way forward is shame resilience, tolerance of vulnerability, finding belonging within, and developing healthy, boundaried empathy that leads to freedom beyond anything gatekeeping or virtue signals or scarcity can achieve. That’s work each of us can do, whether by reading books by Brene Brown, Aundi Kolber, and Matthias Roberts; or doing therapy one on one or as a part of a couple or in a group; or listening to podcasts, lectures, or wise friends and leaders who can guide us there.
When we liberate our minds and hearts, we are free to see others who are unimaginably different than us as a gift to the Body of Christ. We aren’t threatened or defensive because we honor what other identities and perspectives can bring that we can’t.
With the fruit of the Spirit as our guide, we lead from a common goal that all will be free: asexual and allosexual, aromantic and alloromantic, queer and allocishet, and more. Single or partnered, parents and childfree, living alone or with others, sexually celibate or abstinent or solo or partnered or open or any combination. Everyone.
But we can’t get there while asexuality (and aromanticism and our respective spectrums) remain erased and invisible in the church. We are vital to the liberation of Christ. We queer queer theology. We challenge norms in ways that rewriting gender rules alone can’t. We defy expectations and push beyond affirming marriage or ordination or any one label or issue in our unique ways, as all letters do if given proper consideration. But for asexuality, it isn’t as simple as churches might think. We are going to ask more than a flag at Pride or a language change, but a mentality shift that will require surrender of structures and norms and old visions and false realities.
But don’t fear. It’s the surrender of flight, falling into the ways of Jesus and finding ourselves held by the wings of love the whole time. That is, if only we have the courage to listen to asexuals, end amatonormativity, and become something so much better: the family of God.
Invisible Cake Society 