The Gospel Coalition

Several years ago, a young man experiencing same-sex attraction asked me for counsel. He’d heard a sermon at his church that, while not affirming homosexual sex, described those identifying as LGBTQ+ as if they’re a category of people, as a matter of being. He was anxious to know if, as a professing Christian, he should accept that he’s LGBTQ+ and join the LGBTQ+ community. I sympathized with him; young people are inundated with confusing messages pertaining to sexuality. I explained to him that he’s a man created in God’s image. As one raised to new life in Christ, he should let that direct his sexual desires and conduct. Thus, his sexual desire for men neither defines nor governs him. As he listened, his distress and anxiety diminished. The burdens our society had imposed on him, unwittingly affirmed by his church, were lifted, and he left our time grateful and hopeful, with a path forward in Christ. Dramatic shifts in our culture’s understanding of sexuality and identity have been promoted, despite their harms, as an unmitigated good. So it’s intriguing when a champion of the LGBTQ+ movement recognizes the damage the ideology has caused. That’s what makes Ronan McCrea’s book The End of the Gay Rights Revolution: How Hubris and Overreach Threaten Gay Freedom important. According to McCrea, professor of constitutional and European law at University College London, “the Gay Rights Revolution” achieved a “comprehensive and decisive” triumph (5). While he celebrates that triumph, McCrea worries it’s imperiled. He’s especially concerned that the movement’s excesses will lead to its self-destruction. Yet he fails to recognize that what he sees as internal threats are the inescapable consequences of the sexual revolution. Illiberalism and Intolerance It’s no surprise McCrea sees anything that might encroach on sexual autonomy as a threat to the gay rights revolution. Thus, he argues, “Gay freedom will be particularly vulnerable to any broader cultural changes that move society in a more conservative direction” (37). The sexual revolution’s steep costs—especially to young women—are leading to the loss of “fulfillment of people’s plans in terms of family and children” (76). While expressing some sympathy, McCrea explains away much of this dissatisfaction, claiming that “some people just prefer order and conformity to freedom and experimentation” (77). While suspicion of conservatives is to be expected, one of McCrea’s concerns is intolerance coming from the LGBTQ+ movement. For example, he warns against the “increasing tendency to require active validation of homosexuality” (83). He notes that such demands “run counter to some of the liberal principles that gay-rights advocates relied on to get their movement off the ground” (84). There’s internal conflict within McCrea’s perspective. For example, he considers any opposition to imposing sexual and gender ideology through curriculum in schools a “worrying sign” (64). The gay rights revolution claimed “the classical liberal claim of a right to be left alone” (83), yet the movement that had same-sex marriage as its ultimate goal could never accept a “live and let live” approach. McCrea advocates for space for peaceful coexistence, yet the terms of that coexistence seem tenuous. Demolition of Sex Reality McCrea also worries about the denial of male-female sex differences. Yet he fails to recognize that arguments for same-sex marriage result in the conclusion that sex differences don’t matter. The demand for the recognition of same-sex marriage, which was at the heart of the gay rights movement, was empowered by the insistence that defining marriage as only a male-female union is morally defective. The majority opinion in the Obergefell v. Hodges case declares that defining marriage as the joining of a man and a woman is “demeaning” and “hurtful,” imposes “stigma and injury,” deprives gay and lesbian people of dignity, diminishes their personhood, and “works a grave and continuing harm” to them. Inherent to the arguments for same-sex marriage is eliminating from public acceptance those who don’t affirm it. As activist and journalist Jonathan Rauch acknowledges, same-sex marriage is the ultimate assault on “the unity of sex, marriage, and procreation . . . the blow that completes the most destructive demolition work of the sexual revolution” (35). With same-sex marriage’s demolition of sexual difference, the malice attributed to the recognition of the male-female bond is extended to the categories of “male” and “female” themselves. The sex binary is considered an oppressive social construct to be liberated from, beginning at the youngest age. Yet rejecting the reality of sex is a bridge too far for McCrea, who is troubled by the “transformation of the LGB movement to the LGBTQ+ movement” (91). He goes so far as to reject LGBTQ+ (let alone LGBTQIA+) as a meaningful category. McCrea warns his allies against demanding “fundamental changes to categories as basic as male and female” because accepting those demands “involves radical change to basic social structures” (96). Though commendable, McCrea’s desire to uphold the reality of sex evades the substance and the logic of his own convictions. By decreeing the “equality” of same-sex marriage, Obergefell required male-female and same-sex relationships to be considered the same in every way. There’s no room for a sex binary within that worldview. From its inception, same-sex marriage rejected our sexed bodies, with their definition and limitations. The goodness and beauty of male and female in God’s image, coming together in life-giving, one-flesh union, imaging the relationship between Christ and his church, had to be diminished and finally effaced. Unconstrained Excess At the heart of the gay rights revolution is the idea that “people should be able to do whatever they [want] with their bodies” (114). Yet McCrea is concerned about the effects of the excesses of male homosexuality and its attendant harms, including higher levels of STDs, loneliness, mental health struggles, and addictions. McCrea describes “sex among gay men” as “free-wheeling, anything goes,” with “venues such as saunas or ‘dark rooms’ in which men . . . engage in sex with large numbers of partners” (113, 115). From its inception, same-sex marriage rejected our sexed bodies, with their definition and limitations. It’s at this point of the argument that the internal conflicts of McCrea’s worldview are most apparent. Despite such awfulness, McCrea insists there’s “nothing morally wrong with consenting adults engaging in whatever and however many sexual acts they want” (130). Nevertheless, he acknowledges that the ability to resist and order desires is “fundamental to a flourishing human life” (131). Furthermore, he realizes that “every society in the world has needed rules and guardrails to help us manage our chaotic sexual desires” (158). Though he recognizes the need for change, the change he offers is merely the willingness to endure “at least some sexual frustration” since “sex is too powerful to be cost-free” (160). He proposes social disapproval of sexual overindulgence “not necessarily [as] immoral but low prestige behavior that is [not] good for you” (168). As it turns out, the social structures and boundaries that the sexual revolution tore down were needed for human flourishing. Nevertheless, McCrea is unwilling to go where his insights regarding true freedom lead. He doesn’t seem to recognize that it is impossible to unravel the sexual revolution’s effects without beginning a new revolution that affirms God’s design for human sexuality. Toward a New Beginning The End of the Gay Rights Revolution is a heartfelt attempt by an insider to honestly assess the movement. Yet as he points toward sexual autonomy as an essential good, McCrea demonstrates why unfettered freedom can never be the lodestar for personal and societal well-being. He worries about external backlash, but the evidence shows that the problems come from within the movement itself. Restraining desire is necessary for an ordered life. McCrea’s willingness to consider such restraint opens up possibilities for him and all. While he regards sexual desire for men as inviolable and definitive of identity and personhood, it’s not. It directly conflicts with personhood as a male image-bearer of God. Such is the nature of all sin in its degradation of our image-bearing humanity. As it turns out, the social structures and boundaries that the sexual revolution tore down were needed for human flourishing. That’s why sin cannot be tamed but instead must be renounced, regardless of duration or intensity. The young man whose experience opens this review embodies the hope and invitation extended to all: to be washed, sanctified, and “justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God” (1 Cor. 6:11). When God spoke the world into existence, he wove a moral order into the created order. Thus, sex is good because it’s God’s gift to humanity, to be received and enjoyed within the covenantal marital union of man and woman. As McCrea unwittingly shows us, pursuing sexual satisfaction outside those boundaries leads to uncontainable chaos and destruction. The “end” of which McCrea writes is a dead one. The only way out is through the One who raises the dead. In his death on the cross, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, bore our chaotic, self-indulgent, and destructive desires to raise us with him into the freedom of God’s children. And in obeying him, we know the truth, and the truth sets us free (John 8:31–32).

Andy Weir’s novel Project Hail Mary is an enormously entertaining sci-fi page turner with a brilliant narrative structure and endearing characters. But it’s also quite sciencey—full of brain-bending speculative physics, chemistry, and molecular biology. It puts the “science” in science fiction. After reading the book, I was skeptical that a movie adaptation could thread the needle between saying enough about the story’s science and not getting bogged down in it. And would the visual depictions of the novel’s Eridian aliens, interstellar spacecraft, and distant galaxies be cheesy or believable? Amazingly (or in the film’s parlance, “Amaze! Amaze! Amaze!”), the movie more than does justice to the book. It elevates it, adding immersive layers to the compelling story in ways only big-screen cinema can. It’s an instant sci-fi classic. Funny, moving, awe-inspiring, thrilling. And for Christian audiences, it’s the rare PG-13 movie that’s clean and wholesome without being cheesy (apart from one sexual innuendo only adults will get, the movie could be rated PG). It’s a mainstream Hollywood blockbuster that families can enjoy together without fear. How refreshing. But the film is edifying not only for what it doesn’t depict but for what it does. This is a redemptive story, beautifully told. As the title and the main character’s name (Ryland Grace) might suggest, Christian ideas infuse this film’s worldview, even if they’re not explicitly invoked. New High for Sci-Fi Project Hail Mary is an epic sci-fi movie that builds on and evokes previous icons of the genre. It’s like Interstellar in that it follows an interstellar travel, “look to the stars to save Earth” premise. It’s like The Martian in its celebration of science and “look what we can do when we put our mind to it!” problem-solving. It’s like Arrival in the “world overcoming divisions to address cosmic problems” sense. It’s like E.T. in the “cute alien befriends human” sense. But Project Hail Mary is also its own original thing, boasting exceptional artistry across the board—Greig Fraser’s cinematography and Daniel Pemberton’s score are especially awesome—and acting that makes us care for the characters. The plot hews closely to the book’s narrative (major spoilers ahead). The movie opens with Grace (Ryan Gosling)—a long-haired, bearded, vaguely Jesus-looking astronaut—waking up from a long sleep aboard a spaceship. He’s disoriented and doesn’t know where or even who he is. But as Grace gains his bearings, gradually remembering his backstory and the mission’s purpose, the audience does too. Like the book, the film jumps between flashbacks to Earth showing the origins of Project Hail Mary and Grace’s current experience as the mission’s sole survivor. He is humanity’s last hope to save Earth from extinction due to a dying sun. Standard sci-fi conceit. What takes the story in a fresh direction is the introduction of an alien character in the second act—a counterpart to Grace who has also been sent by his own home planet, Erid, to solve the same problem Earth has: Their “sun” is dying too. Stars all over the galaxy are dimming because of a mysterious, microscopic parasite called “astrophage.” When Grace discovers that Rocky (as he calls his alien comrade) is benevolent and wants to solve the same problem, the two team up to save their respective planets. What ensues is essentially a buddy movie that celebrates friendship, sacrifice, and self-giving love. It’s a joy to watch. Quintessentially Metamodern Project Hail Mary feels like a quintessentially metamodern movie. This is in part because Gosling—in movies like Barbie and The Fall Guy—has emerged as the metamodern actor of his generation. He can effortlessly oscillate between sincerity and irony, innocence and world-weariness, earnest joy and self-aware jokes. The character of Grace really lets Gosling milk this “informed naivete” vibe. He’s a dorky middle school science teacher who wears periodic table T-shirts that say “I wear this shirt periodically.” He makes jokes constantly but also gets serious often. He takes moments alone to contemplate beauty or sadness. In a powerful scene, he holds a makeshift funeral for his two fallen co-astronauts. Metamodernism is the mix of postmodern irony and modern sincerity, detached self-referentiality and “all-in” engagement, cynical despair and childlike hope. Project Hail Mary operates within this metamodern register. The film embodies the new sincerity of metamodernism and the “affective turn” in the arts. It’s a disarmingly earnest movie, unembarrassed by emotional catharsis. It’s unafraid of depicting straightforwardly good, inspiring characters who embody classical virtues. At the same time, the movie is highly self-aware and full of the sort of sardonic, self-referential humor that is a postmodern staple. Intertextual references to other movies abound: Rocky, Alien, and even Meryl Streep’s acting. It’s an incredibly smart, quick-witted movie made for media-savvy audiences steeped in pop culture vernacular. Yet it’s smart without being cynical. Project Hail Mary is  unafraid of depicting straightforwardly good, inspiring characters who embody classical virtues. One scene in particular struck me as metamodern in its sensibility. It’s a funny-poignant scene in a bar as members of Project Hail Mary celebrate together, one last time before mission launch. Stratt (Sandra Hüller), the no-nonsense Hail Mary project lead, takes the mic to sing Harry Styles’s “Sign of the Times.” The song is a playful and comically ironic choice, especially for such a serious person as Stratt. But as she sings it—earnestly, with real pain and affect in her voice—the song vibe-shifts quickly from irony to the purest sincerity. That’s metamodernism. It’s desperate people singing Harry Styles songs as a coping mechanism at the end of the world, yet singing them with real hope and unabashed belief that a better outcome is possible. Belief and building are hallmarks of metamodernism. After the “don’t believe in anything” nihilism of postmodernism and its orientation around deconstruction, metamodern people want to believe in things again. They want to build and solve problems rather than only tear down and critique. Belief and building are key themes in Project Hail Mary. While belief in God is only briefly mentioned, belief in science is a major theme. Characters believe answers are out there. Problems are solvable. They want to build and innovate again—moving past the malaise of partisan gridlock to leverage collective creativity for good purposes. It’s a movie nostalgic for the Apollo missions, or even for Manhattan Project–style science collaborations with existential stakes. It’s a movie techno-optimists will adore. ‘Hail Mary’ Full of Grace Perhaps the most metamodern, vibe-shifty quality to Hail Mary is how redemptive it is on a spiritual level. The film draws from Christian virtues and ideas like sacrifice, selfless love, and—you guessed it—grace. Did Weir name his hero Grace mostly for the verbal pun aspect, as a riff on the Catholic prayer’s rendering of Luke 1:28 (“Hail Mary, full of grace”)? Probably. But the character’s name also speaks to the grace he gives—sacrificing his life to save humanity—and the grace he receives. When Rocky gives Grace a chance at life, even after he’s “made peace” with the mission ending in his death, Grace responds with the only appropriate response to such an undeserved gift: “Thank you.” The film draws from Christian virtues and ideas like sacrifice, selfless love, and—you guessed it—grace. Is Grace (or Rocky for that matter) a “Christ figure”? I don’t like using that term. He’s certainly a virtuous man—jarring for his kindness and innocence, never cussing once in the film, for example. And Rocky is a virtuous Eridian who, at one point, does wear a “Savior of the world” hat as a (half) joke. Insofar as both echo the beauty of a story where one lays down his life for the world’s salvation, Christ’s gospel isn’t far in the background. But Grace is also flawed—a reluctant hero who must be (literally) dragged into the mission. He doesn’t volunteer to lay down his life. But that makes his arc in the movie all the more beautiful. He has room to grow, to overcome fear, to become more selfless as the story progresses. And he does. It’s inspiring. Project Hail Mary doesn’t preach the gospel. But it makes virtue look good. It makes selflessness, sacrifice, and duty attractive. If the movie is a huge hit—and I expect it will be—perhaps Hollywood will take the hint. We’re not in postmodernism anymore. Goodness, truth, and beauty are attributes we want in art again. Really, they’re what we’ve always wanted.

Last year, a study found that the percentage of regular churchgoers identifying as pro-life plummeted from 63 percent (in 2023) to 43 percent (in 2025). But wait, it gets worse. That matches the percentage of pro-life people in the general population, which means there’s no longer any significant correlation between regular church attendance and the likelihood of being pro-life. But wait, it gets even worse. The same study found that about 20 percent of regular churchgoers had “paid for, encouraged, or chosen to have an abortion.” And that means “there was no significant correlation between being born again, how often one attends church, or how frequently one reads the Bible and the likelihood of having had an abortion,” the study authors wrote. Whatever strategy Christian churches and families are using to disciple young people in this area, it isn’t working. Herbie and Ashley Newell with their children: Caleb, Adelynn, and Emily / Courtesy of Herbie Newell Herbie Newell knows this problem better than most. He’s the president and executive director of Lifeline Children’s Services, which offers counseling for unplanned pregnancies, support for at-risk families, and adoption services. “Parents must intentionally teach a gospel sexual ethic and gospel family ethic,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be talking points from a pro-life rally or the March for Life. It can just be, like Deuteronomy 6:7 tells us, teaching as we go.” Newell has done this himself. “My wife and I never wanted to take for granted that just because our kids were hanging around pro-life ministry, they were going to see and understand the biblical ethics of pro-life ministry and human sexuality,” he said. The Gospel Coalition asked Newell for his best tips on teaching kids how to value life, on how to resist cultural support for abortion, on handling teen romances, and on setting a good example for your kids, whether you’re married or not. It’s heartbreaking and confusing that in 2025, less than half of churchgoers called themselves pro-life. How can we raise our kids to clearly value life? This can start early. On birthdays, when your children are young, look back at pictures of Mom when she was pregnant with them. Look at their birth pictures, in the hospital or coming home. Talk about how excited you were to find out you were pregnant, to hear their heartbeat, and to feel them kicking in the womb. Talk about how they were fearfully and wonderfully made. Reinforce that life is sacred and precious. As they get older, talk about gender. Who in your family is a boy? Who is a girl? Celebrate the roles of each person in your family—Dad, Mom, and siblings. Talk about how God created us to live together, to be in community with each other and with him. When it’s age-appropriate, talk with them about sex. Don’t leave this to their fifth-grade science class or social media. I remember how awkward it was for me to do this, but talking about it meant those topics were not taboo anymore. It became easier for my kids to ask their questions. As you explain the physical act, talk about God’s plan for that—why it’s good, perfect, complementary. Talk about how marriage is a picture of Christ and the church. This is great. But we know we aren’t the only influences in our children’s lives, and some cultural voices can be loud. What do we do when our kids encounter other views on sexuality and family? We want our kids to rub shoulders with people who aren’t like them—culturally, ethnically, socioeconomically, religiously. When we put them in places where they start to see something different, then we can be the ones to answer their questions, and we can reinforce their Christian worldview. Before our kids were born, my wife was the director of a crisis pregnancy center. I have been the director of an adoption and foster care ministry for the last two decades. Our kids would ask questions like, “Where’s so-and-so’s dad?” or “How did she get pregnant when she’s not married?” While not everyone works daily in pro-life ministry, similar questions might come up as your children encounter situations at school or even as they watch TV or movies. In fact, media is so influential that when our kids are watching or listening to something, we should be close enough that we can hear what’s contrary to a biblical ethic or worldview. And then we have to address it. When your kids ask questions about missing fathers or two moms, don’t shy away from answering—those are opportunities for discipleship. You can let them know what’s going on honestly (and age-appropriately), and then explain why we believe what we believe. When your kids ask questions about missing fathers or two moms, don’t shy away from answering—those are opportunities for discipleship. It’s also important to ask them questions: What did you enjoy about that show? What didn’t you enjoy? Did you notice the dad wasn’t providing for his family? Did you notice the couple wasn’t married? What did you think about that? How would you want to do that differently? What do you think is God’s design? You don’t have to be formal—just talk as you go. “Hey, that’s interesting. That’s not how God would want it. I wish they wouldn’t have made those choices.” Now that my kids are older, they’ll make comments when we watch something: “I wish he didn’t have to be such a womanizer.” “I wish that couple had been faithful to one another.” “Why do shows seem to normalize alternative lifestyles?” They’re pointing out things that are contrary to God’s will. As parents, we can help them digest the differences between what they’re seeing and what’s true and orderly—and why. That’s good advice. What about disordered sexuality that comes into our homes through the internet? Covenant Eyes tells us 75 percent of Christian men and 40 percent of Christian women consume pornography regularly. We also know the average age a child views pornography is 12. There are many ways to fence your internet beyond pornography-blocking software. You can require a password (that a parent keeps) every time your child wants to access the internet. You can block your child from clearing his history. Covenant Eyes will take discreet screenshots from a device and alert an accountability partner. You can have your child’s time on screen and internet searches sent to you regularly. These are all helpful. But underneath the logistics, consuming pornography is a heart issue. My wife and I talked with our teen son about the objectification of women—remember those pictures or videos are of someone’s daughter, maybe someone’s mom. Certainly they’re of someone made in the image of God. Matthew 5:28 says if you look at a woman lustfully, you’ve already committed adultery with her in your heart. Everyone needs accountability, no matter what gender or how old you are. I always tell my kids, “Accountability is the friend of integrity.” And I don’t mean telling someone about your sin so that person doesn’t feel so bad about his or her own sin. I mean friends who will hate sin with you and who will love you enough to help you run from it. I love that. And of course, accountability also comes into play when your child begins to have relationships with significant others. How did you handle that? When our children were younger, we’d say, “If it’s in the Lord’s will, you may get married someday. What are some characteristics you’d want in your spouse?” One time my son said, “Well, I would want my wife to be just like Mom.” That was a good moment for my wife. We’re not putting that future spouse on a pedestal, or saying that if he or she doesn’t meet some definition of perfection that you shouldn’t marry that person. But we are starting to set a standard. As they got older, we also talked about displays of affection, about how that’s a slippery slope. We explained that sex is like a fire. It keeps you very warm if it’s in the fireplace. But if it gets outside of the bounds of where it’s supposed to be, it can burn everything down. As my children have begun dating, I have encouraged them to have at least two other godly men or women, besides my wife and me, who will ask them about their relationships—not just the physical aspects but the emotional too. I have really seen them take this counsel to heart, and it is working in their lives. You’re doing such a great job of teaching your kids. Do you think the example you’re setting in your home—of a healthy Christian marriage—is an even more effective witness? I think even broken homes can be a witness. Single moms and dads can teach God’s truth, even in the middle of situations that aren’t ideal. I know of single moms who teach God’s Word around the kitchen table while praying over their children. They encourage their children to have a relationship with their fathers, even when it is difficult. I’ve seen single parents instill in their children a desire for a godly spouse who will love them and stick with them through hard things. Instead of scaring their children away from marriage, they hold up God’s ideal, while also finding godly and healthy examples of marriage for their children to witness. Even in hard situations, you can be there for one another. You can even laugh through hard things, because you know where true joy is found. One essential resource for that is the local church. At Lifeline, we equip churches to have parenting classes or mentoring programs for single moms, especially if they’ve gone through an unplanned pregnancy or lost their kids to foster care. The true help they need, after a relationship with Jesus, is the community that comes from a church. Truly, we can only have joy and grace in hard situations because of the gospel. But we still stumble. What would you say to parents who have failed, or whose children have failed, on this front? Remember, we aren’t teaching our kids these truths from a legalistic perspective, but because we know they’re going to fall short. Our children will mess up because we all mess up. We fail to meet Christ’s standard, which is why we need the grace of Christ. Single moms and dads can teach God’s truth, even in the middle of situations that aren’t ideal. As parents, it’s good to remember we can’t do this without Christ—we too are going to fall short. This is why he came to redeem us and has called us according to his purpose. If we don’t preach that there’s redemption and hope, even for a young man fighting pornography or a single mom raising her children, then the only answer is society’s answer—addiction and abortion. But there is redemption. And because that’s true, all of our failing is a witness, pointing back to the glorious nature of the gospel of Christ Jesus.