On February 26th, 2021, The Most Reverend Henry Ndukuba, Anglican Archbishop, Metropolitan, and Primate of All Nigeria, published a response to two controversial documents from the weeks prior: first, “Sexuality and Identity,” a January 19th pastoral statement from the college of bishops in the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA) on the pastoral care of same-sex attracted people, and second, the February 22nd “Dear Gay Anglicans” letter, a public statement which called for more sensitivity to the struggles of gay/same-sex attracted people, confession of wrongs committed against them, and more support for them in the ACNA.
In his response, Archbishop Ndukuba claims “Sexuality and Identity,” contrary to the way it was understood in much of the United States, is a “subtle capitulation to recognize and promote same-sex relations among its members,” and stresses “homosexuals” should be offered no room in the Church. In an interesting twist on sexual identity debates in other conservative Christian denominations, he pushes back against “Sexuality and Identity,” which advocates that sexual identity language (i.e. words like “gay”) should be abandoned by faithful followers of Christ. Making it rather difficult to be interpreted as merely opposing same-sex sexual activity, hw insists that “Gay” is “who [people who experience same-sex attraction] are.” The “pastoral” language of these documents serves only as a distraction:
“Manipulating languages to cover up sin and sinners [is] incompatible with the example of Scripture which condemned sin. A Gay is a Gay, they cannot be rightly described otherwise. In the same vein, we cannot describe people as 'Christian Murderer', 'Christian Adulterer' and 'Christian terrorist'; neither should we even have 'Gay Christian' or 'Gay Anglican'. "Without Holiness, no man shall see God" (Hebrews 12 :14).”
In perhaps the most forceful section of the response, Archbishop Ndukuba turns his attention to the “Dear Gay Anglicans” letter, drawing heavily on familiar themes of recruitment and disease. The letter is “a clarion call to recruit Gays into ACNA member parishes. The deadly ‘virus’ of homosexuality has infiltrated [the] ACNA.” This virus could very well end the denomination, and the response of the ACNA, in his estimation, was “palliative, weak and unwilling to discipline the erring bishops and priests” and “has not cured the diseases that [have] set in.” But it also poses a threat to the mission of the gospel at a time when “when secular governments are adopting [an] aggressive campaign for global homosexual culture.” As if to mirror this extreme rhetoric, the word “Gay” is virtually always capitalized in the response, along with words like “Mission,” “Truth,” and “Holiness.”
Perhaps the most memorable phrase from the response, repeated in the subsequent headlines, is Archbishop Ndukuba’s assertion that the dangerous “virus” of homosexuality can be “likened to a Yeast that should be urgently and radically expunged and excised lest it affects the whole dough.”
The Image of Yeast
Yeast is, of course, a familiar biblical image. During the Exodus, the Israelites baked loaves of unleavened bread—without the need to wait for the dough to rise—in their haste to flee their captors in Egypt (Exodus 12:39). To remember the miraculous deliverance of God, they were instructed to celebrate a week-long “Feast of Unleavened Bread” following Passover, during which they were to rid their houses entirely of yeast and eat no leavened bread (Exodus 12:14-20, 13:3-10). Yeast came to be associated with, and became a symbol of, sin, corruption, and impurity—as in portions of the Mosaic law which explicitly forbade yeast in grain offerings (Leviticus 2:4-12, 6:14-18).
These symbolic associations continue in the New Testament. Jesus warns his followers about the “yeast” of certain religious and political leaders, suggesting that their subtle influence might have drastic negative effects (Mark 8:15, Matthew 16:6). The apostle Paul issues this warning in a couple times in his letters as well. In Galatians, he warns about the influence of those who require Gentile circumcision: “A little yeast leavens the whole batch of dough” (Galatians 5:9 NRSVUE). In 1 Corinthians, he warns about the dangers of sexual immorality, arrogant boasting, and other evils:“Do you not know that a little yeast leavens all of the dough? Clean out the old yeast so that you may be a new batch of dough, as you really are unleavened” (1 Corinthians 5:6-7 NRSVUE). Being “unleavened” here is a metaphor for being pure, holy.
In likening gay people to yeast, Archbishop Ndukuba suggests that we are an impure, unholy, corrupting influence, a small and seemingly insignificant group of people who can have an unexpectedly powerful negative effect on the Church. This was disheartening to read, to say the least. Over the past many years in certain conservative evangelical denominations in the United States (ever since the Nashville Statement, I think), many of us LGBTQ+ folks who have inhabited these denominations have gotten used to forceful criticisms of the category of sexual identity, the use sexual identity language, participation in LGBTQ+ culture, etc. I felt, reading this response, that it would almost certainly lead to the persecution, physical, emotional, and spiritual harm, and even death of LGBTQ+ folks in a country that criminalizes same-sex sexual behavior, same-sex relationships, identifying as gay, being involved with gay organizations, or even supporting such organizations.
A Subversive Parable
This metaphor of gay people as a disease, as an insidious foe, as yeast that leavens the whole lump of dough was a gut punch…
…and yet, it got me thinking. Sure, the symbol of yeast is used throughout the biblical tradition as a symbol of sin and impurity, but there is an exception. Jesus, in a subversive way that may have startled those who heard him teach, used a parable that described the kingdom of God as yeast:
He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened” (Matthew 13:33 NRSVUE)
And again he said, “To what should I compare the kingdom of God? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened” (Luke 13:20-21 NRSVUE).
Years ago in a seminary class, the definition of a parable to which I was introduced was the one put forward by C.H. Dodd: “At its simplest the parable is a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought.”1 The image of yeast was very familiar to the average first-century Jew, and its use as a metaphor or simile was also well-known—but the strangeness of the parable of the yeast, at least in part, comes from its clearly positive meaning: the kingdom of God, a subject Jesus devoted his ministry to proclaiming, can be “likened to a Yeast.” And parable brings up so many questions: how exactly is the kingdom of God like yeast? What does it mean for the kingdom to be “mixed in”? Is there a significance to the woman kneading the dough, the “three measures of flour,” or the negative connotations of yeast?
In both appearances of this parable, it is directly preceded by the parable of the mustard seed, in which a tiny seed, once planted and allowed to grow, becomes an enormous tree where flocks of birds come to rest (Matthew 13:31-32, Luke 13:18-19). Both parables emphasize the smallness of the kingdom, its quick growth, and its outsized impact. Yeast may evidently be understood to symbolize the corrupting influence of certain religious and political leaders, but may also symbolize the coming reign of God, which is “mixed in” and affects the whole world. By using yeast as a positive symbol of the kingdom, Jesus strips sin, corruption, and impurity of its symbolic power.
Because they are fundamentally images, metaphors can be deployed in multiple ways and for multiple purposes (sometimes at the same time). Metaphors that are originally intended to be negative can sometimes be taken up again, reappropriated, and used for positive purposes—as Jesus does with the image of yeast. And when this is done, all the aspects of the metaphor that seem frightening in the hands of evil (sin, impurity, and corruption can begin small, but can quickly affect everything) become comforting, encouraging, and exciting (seemingly insignificant instances of holiness, purity, and incorruption can change the world).
Leavening Agents
I agree with the Archbishop Ndukuba, that sexual minorities can be “likened to a Yeast.” Like yeast, sexual minorities are a small community, and we are seemingly insignificant in the eyes of many in the Church. Like yeast, sexual minorities have so often been associated with sin, corruption, and impurity—others have so often attempted to sweep us out of the house of God, have tried to prevent us from offering up our lives to God in service to God’s people. Like yeast, sexual minorities may indeed have an outsized influence, a powerful effect on the Church if we are allowed to work ourselves through the whole body of Christ. Sexual minorities are certainly like yeast in all these ways—and so, I would suggest, we are also like the kingdom of God!
But I do not agree that sexual minorities “should be urgently and radically expunged and excised lest [they affect] the whole dough.” Rather, I believe we should be “mixed in” with the flour, worked through the whole lump of dough, so that the entire Church—and the whole world—may be leavened. How might the influence of sexual minorities positively affect the Church, offering us all a means of more fully grasping the gospel and more effectively reaching the rest of the world? There is much that could be said, but I struggle to put it any better than I did in my Revoice19 breakout session, “Queer Culture: Contextualization and Missiology”:
We know what is like to experience the shame, fear, secrecy, isolation, death, and darkness of the grave; we call it the closet, and we desire for everyone to be free of its influence and to live in the light.
We know what it is like to experience such a radical transformation of our identity and our self-understanding that it necessarily impacts every area of our life, and to strive to see that influence born out.
We know what it is like to find that our biological family is not always our logical family, and to put in the work to build and maintain chosen family relationships based on shared commitments, not biology.
We know what it looks like to strive to live with integrity, even in the midst of opposition, including the loss of family and friends, being shamed by our communities, legal ramifications, and physical violence.
And we know what it is like to long for a better world, one in which we are whole and human again, one in which we do not break ourselves or each other into pieces, one in which we can experience intimacy and love.
What could the Church look like if Queer people were invited in, not because we are helpless projects on the one hand or experts in following Jesus on the other, but because our liberation is bound up together? What if Jesus actually met us where we are, in our own culture? And what could we do together, if all our cultures and gifts were acknowledged and valued, rather than ignored or thrown away? What kind of community could we experience, and what kind of witness could we have to the world?
Like a little yeast leavens the whole lump of dough, may the reign of God affect the whole world. And may the gifts of sexual minorities be “mixed in” with the flour of the Church, so that the Church may grow into the “measure of the full stature of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13 NRSVUE).
C.H. Dodd, The Parables of the Kingdom (New York: Scribners, 1961), p. 16
I came across this post from someone who restocked it and used it to claim that gays are sin and that we are no different than murderers.