I describe myself as a person of faith. I am not a religious person, nor do I support religion, per se. To some people, including my children, this distinction is my personal distinction, rather than one of definition. So to clarify, I believe religion is man’s attempt to reach God. I believe having faith means trusting in God’s attempt to reach man. I do still claim the title of Christian, not because of association with current religious organizations, but because I desire to associate with the historical Jesus Christ. I do believe Jesus Christ was a literal human being, and also fully divine, the Incarnate God.

I think explaining this first is important because faith is a defining feature of my life. It is the foundation upon which I make choices, see the world, and desire truth. So when I say, “Because I am a person of faith it brings into question issues of gender and sexuality,” it is not because a religion or a church has rules, or a culture, or expectations for me and my family. It is because I believe that God cares about all aspects of his creation and their choices, and as a person of faith I should attempt to address any issues and questions through his perspective wherever I can find it, including Biblical study and pursuing scientific research simultaneously. Truth doesn’t contradict truth, so looking for it in multiple and diverse places will bring about the most complete and satisfactory foundation.

I don’t assume that everything I’ve been taught is untrue, even while questioning it. I’ll hold loosely to ideas in the midst of questioning. As I learn, then I may affirm something that I was taught, or I might decide to throw it out based on study and collaboration with knowledgeable and learned people.

Prior to all of this turmoil in our family over the issue of gender, I never would have contemplated the question, “What is gender?” or, “Does gender matter?” I think, like many others, I just took for granted culture around me and typical ways of viewing things. Now that I’m trying to dig a little deeper in search of those answers, I don’t automatically assume that what I’ve been taught or believed should just be thrown out in favor of what I hear in society or read on the internet. I assume that there are answers to those questions, but since I’ve never asked them, I don’t really know what the answers actually are. Many people speak loudly, but we don’t always know whom we can trust. And if they come from a frame of reference different from ours, say where faith doesn’t play a role, I want to find out more about why they think what they do before I just accept their conclusions.

I do believe the scientific community has some intriguing thoughts on how we form our identity in relation to our biological sex. There are some interesting theories. And, from a personal perspective, I know that there’s something real here. I haven’t lived with my twins for 18 years and missed that there were and are some true, inborn, and probably also some learned differences in expression and experience.

In a future post, I plan to look more completely at some of the theories of biological basis for transgenderism. Right now, my focus is this: Even if there are biological foundations for why someone would identify as transgender, does that mean that the best intervention for that identification is claiming the identity label of the experienced gender and physically changing oneself to better reflect that identity? If there are scientific reasons that explain why someone might experience gender differently, do those reasons suggest that a physical intervention is prescribed to mitigate the differences?

Historically, for thousands of years, the human race has divided itself into two sexes, male and female. This was a physical classification and was fleshed out by both biological and physiological differences. These differences were lived out through roles and responsibilities that were necessitated by the biological functions of each sex, and by the primitive living conditions that made survival as a species the prime consideration. Were there humans who didn’t fit neatly in the categories, who had traits – physically or otherwise – that didn’t match up with the majority of the others? Almost assuredly there were. We know that there are bell curves that represent most traits and features within a population. That means that the majority of historic persons fall into the middle of that bell curve, establishing “typical.” But it also means that there have always been outliers on the edges of the curve. They are “atypical.” Sometimes we celebrate those variations, and sometimes we call those differences abnormal or even identify them as disabilities or disorders.

So, it doesn’t seem surprising to me that there could be a biological basis for differences, both tangible and experienced. But just because those differences exist and have a foundation, doesn’t necessarily mean we’ve figured out how to approach them. Should we just accept the differences and move forward as if nothing happened? Should we recognize the differences as special and unique, giving diversity and breadth to our experience as humankind? Should we take the differences to be disordered and requiring intervention to correct them? These questions do not have sufficient answers for me as I search.

That some people are different from others in how they experience their gender is obvious. That historically there are variations in the population through their genetic makeup, through their growth and development, and through their environment is obvious and must be considered. Concluding what that means and how it should be “treated” is another subject entirely.

For me, as I attempt to process coming to a conclusion on meaning and steps forward, I believe “You gotta have faith.”