
This is precisely the false dichotomy to which Lee points in his subtitle: the “Gays-vs.-Christians” debate. But, for the vast majority of Lee’s readers, the idea of a gay Christian is probably an oxymoron. Chances are good they’ve met a gay person at one time, or have a gay acquaintance. I’d suspect most of Lee’s audience haven’t heard the story of a gay Christian in its entirety. Torn is mostly Lee’s story, which I think is a brilliant way to present his perspective on a contentious topic. That is why this book will challenge any reader who thinks their position on human sexuality is unshakable. Lee doesn’t come across as “having an agenda”, like the common caricature of the homosexual community holds. Antagonistic readers will have a difficult time claiming Lee isn’t completely sincere. One of the reasons Lee’s story is so powerful is because of its clear ring of authenticity.


Lee is careful to present his story and his perspective in a very winsome way. But what it does mean is that Torn is not a book that can be easily dismissed. He couldn’t have broken more molds.ĭoes that mean I agree with every conclusion at which Lee arrives? No, not necessarily.

He couldn’t have had more grace and nuance. Justin Lee is the nicest, ‘goodie-two-shoes’ you should ever expect to have written a book on such a controversial topic.

Why is that? It quickly dawned on me that, even though I was reading this book from a place of openness, I was nevertheless projecting my own stereotypes of gay people onto Justin. I expected him to be super-opinionated, angry, vitriolic even. I realized about half way through the book, that I was waiting and looking for the “edge” that a gay Christian author is supposed to have. “For a gay guy, Justin Lee is incredibly straight-laced.” That’s what I kept thinking as I read Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate.
