
Matthew Vines recently appeared in a debate with David Bennett on Justin Brierley’s show, “Uncommon Ground.” Both men are cisgender gay Christians with public profiles. Vines believes same-sex marriages are supported by scripture, while Bennett does not.
The goal of the conversation was to have a respectful discussion to gain a deeper understanding across differences, even if they never reached agreement. Frankly, we need more of that these days.
At one point, however, Vines criticized queer theology, labeling it as a “slippery slope” that only leads to people no longer believing in God. He went so far as to call queer theory, out of which queer theology emerged, a “universal acid” that eats through everything considered normative. That’s a harsh generalization of an entire branch of theology in a conversation meant to generate understanding across differences.
I must admit, my response comes from a place of disappointment and grief.
When Vines released God and the Gay Christian in 2014, it was both revolutionary and deeply healing for queer Christians who had long struggled to reconcile their queerness with their faith. I was a seminary student when it came out, discerning my own sexual orientation. I remember reading it in the solitude of my bedroom, hiding it under a pillow lest anyone walk in and see it on my nightstand.
Vines’ book helped me and so many others along our journeys. It played a significant role in my being able to embrace my queer identity as a gift from God, and in giving me language to explain it to my evangelical friends from a place rooted in scripture. It was truly radical for its time, and I will be forever grateful.
Since 2014, however, Vines and his organization, The Reformation Project (TRP), have become uncomfortable with their radical roots—so uncomfortable, he had to draw a clear, firm line in the sand. In the debate with Bennett, Vines suggested that a new, wholly separate category was needed to differentiate Side A people (the position he holds) from people who endorse queer theology: a group he’s dubbed “Side Q.”
In general, there are four distinct Christian understandings of the conversation around LGBTQ+ individuals: Sides A, B, X, and Y. Of course, they each come with a lot of nuance, but they can be broadly described as follows:
Side A is the belief that being gay is not a sin and that gay people should feel free and empowered to engage in romantic relationships that are meaningful to them.
Side B argues that being gay is not a sin, but acting on it is. Therefore, gay folks must commit to a life of celibacy.
Side X believes that being gay is a sin, there’s no such thing as a gay person and people “struggling” with same-sex attraction should seek “reparative” therapy.
Side Y (which is a more recent addition) argues that no identity matters outside our identity in Christ, so no one should claim a queer identity to begin with.
In the interview, Vines describes the proposed “Side Q” as people who are “from a different planet” than Side A. He stated that “queer theology has no limiting principles whatsoever,” painting the field as a free-for-all void of any central Christian ethos beyond what he called the “secular” ethic of consent. He also claimed that queer theologians have no respect for the authority of scripture, inevitably leading them on a “slippery slope” out of Christianity altogether.
Vines’ reasoning for categorizing people into “Side Q” is based on his understanding of queer theology, an understanding that, frankly, is flawed. It also discredits the queer theologians who have dedicated their lives to biblical scholarship and dismisses the value their work has added to countless people’s faith journeys, including mine.
Elsewhere in the interview, Vines expressed a desire to build bridges between affirming Christians and non-affirming conservative Christians to foster unity. Yet still, he expressed an equally strong desire to separate himself from any association with folks who endorse queer theology, which he described as too extreme.
Where’s the call for unity in that?
In 2024, Vines described the difference between Queer Theology and what he calls “Affirming Theology.” He quoted some of the most radical lines from queer theologians out of context; a tactic he repeated in last week’s debate.
In response to his 2024 statements, critics highlighted that he was misrepresenting their work while intentionally choosing the work of queer theologians who were not cisgender white men to demonize. I noted that several former TRP staff members and Leadership Development Cohort participants indicated that, while they were disappointed, they were not surprised; they felt it aligned with views he had been expressing for a few years.
Vines has held this view for a while. So I was not surprised by any of the arguments he made in the recent debate. What I was surprised by, though, was the condescension and clear disdain directed toward queer theology and those who find it meaningful.
It’s worth noting that Bennett and the moderator both expressed surprise that Bennett, who holds the more conservative Side B position, was more open to learning from aspects of both queer theory and queer theology than Vines’s blanket dismissal of both.
Others, including Brandan Robertson, have already responded to the substance of the argument Vines presented in that interview. I won’t rehash those arguments here, as my views are mostly in line with them. Instead, I question the timing of Vines’ statement.
Even though he has held this view for a while, this is the first time I’ve seen him argue the point so aggressively and with such pointed disrespect for the field of queer theology. Why argue this stance so fiercely now?
For Vines to dig his heels in so aggressively against progressive understandings of queerness at this moment is not just disappointing. It is deeply harmful.
It creates division in a community that already struggles to find places to safely bring the fullness of our queerness and our faith. He’s providing a justification for “more respectable” queer people to turn their backs on other queer people because they “went too far” down that “slippery slope.”
When division is prevalent everywhere in the public square, those with minoritized identities need to rally around what we share in common so we can support one another through these hard times and defeat the forces seeking to oppress us all. Nothing Vines said regarding queer theology and its proponents speaks to such unity, even as he expressed a desire for generating that unity amongst religious conservatives.
Vines providing political conservatives more ammunition to attack queer folks who don’t fall into neat, tidy boxes as defined by Christian orthodoxy is even more sobering. Those on the receiving end of this hate include many of our trans and nonbinary siblings, those who practice ethical nonmonogamy, and other queer folks who are being targeted viciously by the current presidential administration for being “too extreme.”
While political attacks against queer people seen as “extremely other” only increase, Vines has effectively laid out, on a silver platter, fuel for queerphobic conservatives to say, “See? Even the ‘reasonable’ gays don’t want these extreme folks!”
I want to be clear that I’m not critiquing Vines for his beliefs, even though I have plenty to critique. He’s welcome to his personal beliefs regarding scripture, monogamy, and Christian tradition. But I do think the way in which he’s expressing his disagreement with queer theology is causing more harm than good, and will continue to do so.
In his own book, Vines argues that Christians need to remember Jesus’s teaching in Matthew 7, where Jesus tells the disciples that a good tree cannot produce bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot produce good fruit. He concluded that the fruit of homophobic interpretations of the Bible is bad fruit and that this evaluative tool from Jesus offers us a framework to discern many things in our lives; I agree.
From this place of agreement, I would encourage him to remember his own reflections regarding that teaching as he considers how he’s othering people and perspectives more progressive than his own. I think he’ll find good fruit severely lacking.

