Holy Envy
and some rainbow hope
Yesterday the head of the Norwegian Lutheran church, by far the largest church in Norway, offered an apology to the queer community. It has largely been met with approval, although some are saying it is too little, too late.
Here is a summarized and translated version: (Thank you, Copilot!)
Apology to Queer People – Preses Olav Fykse Tveit
Dear all,
We are gathered at London Pub – a place of deep symbolism. A safe space for queer people for nearly fifty years, and the site of the terror attack during Oslo Pride three years ago. Thank you for letting us be here.
In 2022, the bishops of the Church of Norway acknowledged that the institution we lead has caused pain and harm to queer people. It is right that we, as a church, take responsibility and say: We are sorry.
Some may think it’s too late. Others may think it’s too early. We believe it is right not to wait any longer.
This is not a starting point, nor a conclusion. But it is a milestone.
Over the past years, we’ve had many meetings and conversations with queer individuals and their organizations. It is generous that those who once felt condemned by the church have welcomed us with open arms. That is grace.
We’ve listened to stories – painful, vulnerable, and courageous. Thank you to all who have shared.
We’ve heard how the church has impacted lives – mostly negatively in this context. Attitudes, practices, and silence have had serious consequences:
The church denied qualified lesbians and gay people employment.
Volunteers were excluded due to orientation or relationships.
HIV/AIDS was called God’s punishment for homosexuality.
The church refused to bless or marry same-sex couples.
Church spaces are still not safe for trans people.
Queer love was reduced to mere feelings, something to be switched off.
These actions led to shame, exclusion, and loss of faith. Some left the church. Some lost their belief. Families and friends suffered.
God creates us all in His image. Jesus lifted people up and showed us what community means. That is our Christian calling.
But we have failed – repeatedly. Words, attitudes, and actions have stood in the way. Even when individuals in pastoral care offered support, the church’s public voice often said something else.
In 1954, the bishops called queer people a “global societal threat.” In the 80s and 90s, condemnation of HIV-positive individuals went unchallenged.
But change has come:
In 2007, the Church Assembly allowed partnered gay people to be ordained.
In 2016, it approved same-sex marriages in church.
To say “sorry” is a commitment – to meet each other differently.
In 2020, a report showed that being queer and employed in the church caused stress and hardship. This must change.
On Monday, a report on trans experiences in the church was presented. We still have much to learn – even the importance of the rainbow flag in creating safety.
Globally, queer people are losing rights and facing violence – often justified by religion. We must all take responsibility to counter this.
Faith in God can give us courage – to be ourselves and to stand up for others. Many queer people have done just that. Thank God!
They have brought insight and change. Some stood alone, others organized. This gives hope.
Change has taken time. Some could not endure. Some who should have heard this apology are no longer with us.
But something has changed. A society where you can love who you want and be who you are makes Norway and the world better.
So today, we also say: Thank you.
Thank you to those who shared their stories. Thank you to those who fought – alone or together. Thank you for raising the flag, for Pride parades, for rainbow services, for not giving up on faith or the church.
The Church of Norway has caused queer people shame, great harm, and pain. It should not have happened.
Therefore, today I say: I am sorry.
Through my participation in our local Interfaith council I have been blessed to get to know two of the Norwegian Lutheran Bishops; Anne Lise Ådnøy in Stavanger, and Sunniva Gylver in Oslo. Both women, and impressive in their own right. Even more so now, in my eyes, as they stand in support of, and probably in the crafting of this official apology.
Words matter.
I wish my own faith community could do the same thing. I really hope it will one day. But I’m not holding my breath.