Who is in Your Chair(s)?
I want to share my journey to the Messy Middle Spaces I believe God has called me to embrace. The spaces where the beauty of the Great Commission meet the deep love found in the Greatest commandment where Jesus’ grace shines the brightest.
My Story: From Hate to Grace
But first, I think it would be a good idea to share a bit of my personal story to help paint a picture of the journey I am on.
I grew up in chaos—addiction in my home, no moral compass, trapped in alcohol, drugs, and pornography before I even reached high school. My father was openly racist, and our house was filled with anger and strife. Later in life, when my wife and I adopted our son—who is biracial—my father walked out of my life for good.
In that environment, was bred a hateful young man named Rob Townshend. I judged everyone else, while hiding my own shame. Grace was foreign to me. And then Jesus found me in college. He interrupted my life and began the slow, messy work of discipleship.
But here’s the truth: for a long time after I met Jesus, I was still that same angry, graceless guy. Only now I had a Bible in my hand. And I thought it was my job to use it like a weapon.
When the LGBTQ debates erupted in my state, I marched up to the capitol and proudly held a sign declaring, “You are an abomination to the Lord.” I thought I was doing God’s work. Looking back, I see only harm, arrogance, and a complete misunderstanding of the gospel.
For years, I unleashed hate wrapped in “truth.” I thought it was righteousness. In reality, it was cruelty.
I want to publicly say to my LGBTQ+ siblings that I repent. I am repent for the words I have spoken. I repent for the walls I have helped build. I have been guilty of creating spaces of hate that were inherently unsafe, unwelcome, and unloving. This was inexcusable.
Who is In Your Chair?
As you read this, I challenge you to think of an empty chair beside you. Let it serve as a reminder: the issues we are reading about are not issues. They are people. Real people with names, stories, and families. Sons, daughters, nieces, fathers, mothers, nephews, coworkers, friends.
When we reduce people to issues, we stop seeing them as beloved by God. But if the gospel is true, then every person matters deeply to Him.
Some fear that this kind of confession signals a “theology shift.” But let me be clear I am not shifting theology. God’s word is my anchor. A biblical sexual ethic remains what it has always been: the covenant of lifelong marriage between a man and a woman. That is unshakable truth.
What I am advocating for is a shift in our posture. From condemnation to compassion. From gatekeeping to grace. From exclusion to invitation.
Why? Because that is the posture of Jesus.
Where Are You? The Posture of the Messy Middle.
In Genesis 3, after Adam and Eve fall into sin, God comes walking through the garden. While taking this sacred stroll He asks them a question: “Where are you?”
God wasn’t confused. He didn’t lose track of them like a parent misplacing a toddler in the grocery store. He knew exactly where they were. The question was for their sake, not His.
“Where are you?” was an invitation out of shame, out of hiding, back into relationship. Even in their brokenness, God was drawing them close.
Friends, what if that became our posture toward people who feel excluded from the church? What if we asked with compassion, “Where are you?” Not to trap them, not to shame them, but to invite them into the presence of a Father who still loves them.
Jesus lived in the messy middle—between Rome and Israel, between sinners and the self-righteous, between law and grace. He never compromised truth, but He embodied truth in love.
When a woman was caught in adultery and dragged before Him, the religious leaders demanded justice. They were ready to stone her. Instead, Jesus turned the spotlight on their sin. One by one, they dropped their rocks. Then He turned to her and said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”
We’ve weaponized that last line. But in the original language, it was not a command of moral perfection. It was an invitation: “Come to Me. Trust Me. Let Me free you from the power of sin.” Grace first. Transformation through relationship, not condemnation.
Later, Jesus spotted a despised tax collector perched in a tree. Everyone else saw a cheat and a crook. Jesus saw a man worth dining with. “Zacchaeus, come down. I’m coming to your house today.”
The crowd grumbled. They were “grumped,” as Eugene Peterson puts it. But that day, salvation came to Zacchaeus’ house—not because Jesus shamed him, but because Jesus shared a meal with him.
God’s Challenge to His People
The question “Where are you?” is not just for Adam, Eve, an adulterous woman, or Zacchaeus. It’s for us too.
Where are we—in our posture toward people? Do we see issues or do we see souls? Do we pick up rocks or do we pull up chairs?
Christian sexuality matters. God’s design is good and clear. But so does Christian love. If we preach sexual ethics without grace, we’re only telling half of the truth. And half-truths always harm.
To my LGBTQ friends: you are safe, welcome, and loved here in the spaces I reside. Your gifts, your voice, your presence matters.
To the rest of us: ask yourself, Where am I in embodying God’s love? How am I showing grace to those around me, even when it’s hard?
Jesus came to seek and save the lost, restore the broken, and invite all into His love. Our call is the same: to reflect His heart, to welcome others, and to ask the most compassionate question possible: Where are you?
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