Unlike a lot of blog posts I write (not counting sharing church sermons), this one has required quite a bit of editing. You know the kind: moving paragraphs around, deciding how to identify the persons on my heart, grammar, and so on. Further, in the case of this series this time around, I ended up letting this and the next post sit in the “draft” pile for almost a year-and-a-half. Only now, in June 2023, am I posting this. Even as I began sketching out a year-and-a-half ago the main points I wanted to hit, I surprised myself in that even the focus, the emotional center, of the topic, changed from what I had originally planned. Maybe it is meant to be this way.
Just to
warn you, this will be a long post. (In fact, it’s so long that it will be two FOUR
long posts!) If, as the reader, you’re only here for church sermon notes or
occasional interesting life update stories (or sports), this is not the post
for that. The bottom line of my heart and my conviction in today’s post is perhaps
different from anything I’ve ever dared to make public.
Over the
last few years, since I began to become bolder in my faith on this blog,
I’ve dared to post things that I know some people may not like. I also did some
of the same on Facebook. Historically, it’s not been like me to post boldly, at
the risk of offending others. But I’ve been bolder about speaking when my heart
is filled with whatever topic I’m thinking about. I’ve been bolder especially
if it goes along Biblical lines because I’ve learned (and still continue to
learn) that my faith, and my heart behind it, must come out and center more. If
I say I love Jesus internally, then I need to begin to prove it externally as
well, not as a means of gaining favor (or salvation) from Him, but rather as an
expression of the love that He Himself has already freely given me, and that I
have received.
This
post’s original focus was going to be a further clarification, kind of the
backstory of what led me to change my views on homosexuality and gay marriage. Now,
I’ve already devoted five posts as an intellectual-Biblical exposé (see here, here, here, here, and here for more details), but I never went into the “why.” The “why” for
my change in perspective is simple: I experienced God Himself as He gently
taught me the truth as outlined in His word, the Bible.
What I
don’t think I’ve shared is I used to be vehemently pro-gay marriage for a long
time. I grew up around gay people. Not a whole lot of gay people, but a
few very important people in my life growing up identified themselves as gay.
And others who identified as straight (including family) were all pro-gay
marriage. I considered it a core issue for me, considering all these things.
But God,
yes, even the God of the Bible, had other plans. First, in His mercy He decided
He wanted to save me. This included many things but especially getting me out
of the Episcopal church (which took multiple attempts). Even after He
succeeded, I was still angrily pro-gay marriage, even as I met and got to know
people who were pro-Biblical marriage, which itself stands against gay
marriage.
Then, as
God drew me closer and closer to Him, my perspective changed, particularly on
this but also on realizing that the Bible was the one view that is correct on
all things.
Then, for
a long time, nothing on this front. I walked as a pro-Biblical marriage
proponent but only shared it with people I knew or at least suspected were also
pro-Biblical marriage. People in my life who were pro-gay marriage didn’t know.
Primarily, my own healing and growth work took center stage in my life for a
long time. Even as I risked in other areas (namely, starting my own business as
a piano teacher and performer), I put many things to the sidelines that adults
often discuss and opine about.
The big milestone, the big proof of growth and maturity, was the question of whether I could handle a romantic relationship or not. Once it became abundantly clear that the answer was “yes,” I knew that 1.) I had “made it”, and 2.) I needed to shift my focus, among other things, to careers. One of the other key things was politics. (Read more in this post here; to be hereby referred to as “the post” or “the post from January 2021” for the rest of this post.) That was a topic I largely left to the sidelines, for a multitude of reasons, but primarily because my focus had been inward for so long.
Except for
processing trigger experiences with friends and any normal
clearing-the-air/hashing-it-out conversations that are healthy for maintaining
friendships, I’ve not had to experience hard conversations at all, but
especially regarding faith (with non-believers), politics, or worldviews.
Unfortunately, the pandemic, and more importantly, everything on the national scene (especially the events) during that time, forced my hand. If you care to read more, please see this post and this post.
Before I
left Facebook in late spring of this year 2021, I received a happy birthday message
from one of my choir directors growing up. He not only identifies as gay; he’s
married. To his husband. I hadn’t heard directly from him in years, not on
Facebook, not via email, not anywhere. I mailed him a letter in 2014, as an
invitation to catch up and share what I’ve been up to. Never heard back. (For
all I know, maybe the mail never made it, or maybe I had the wrong address.) I
then suspected that maybe he suspected that I was no longer pro-gay marriage
and decided that he didn’t want to talk to me. I could be wrong; I could be
right. The birthday greeting, however, confirmed that he at the very least
hadn’t seen “the post” from January. Even if years prior he suspected about my
pro-Biblical marriage stance, he may have forgotten. I don’t think he reads my
blog, which is fine with me.
I also have a family member who identifies as gay and has a same-sex domestic partner (they too are now legally married). A story for another time, but she came into my family’s life about eight years ago, and I visited with her and her partner the first time about six years ago. I don’t know what she knows about what I believe about anything, beyond what I posted on Facebook. (Which, even then, only kind of came out toward the end before I left.) I don’t think she reads my blog, which, again, is just fine with me.
As for why
I have now decided to get into the “why” of this topic (and also to where this
post’s focus shifted), the reason is simply this: I haven’t talked to my
childhood best friend in almost a year two-and-a-half years, which is unusual for us considering our
friendship’s history. He earnestly believes that he is gay and has believed as
such ever since we were both in college. The last time I chatted with him was
December of last year 2020. This is someone who I’d known almost 30 years, someone
who I’d known and who had known me through all the different stages of life to
date, through shared joys and through times of pain. This was also the friend
with whom I began my “epic” trip to California by taking a road trip with him,
to help him move in as he began grad school. It was a goodbye of sorts. We of course
remained in touch over the years since, and he came back home to visit on
average twice a year. I also had the pleasure of introducing him to another of
my close friends on account of the two of them both sharing a passion for
flying. The result of that was a few overnight trips that the three of us took
to different cities across the Great Lakes region, including Mackinac Island,
Niagara Falls, and Duluth.
Even though each visit was like he had never left, even as both of our lives changed, we only really communicated twice a year, leading up to and then during his trips home to visit, which typically occurred twice a year. I was fine with that. I had my friends here, my faith, my personal growth work, and my music. When COVID hit, our contact increased to video chats approximately once or twice a month. By that point, it became obvious to me he was struggling, and not just because of COVID and all the corresponding restrictions. As someone who knows what it’s like to struggle – and I mean, struggle – it was obvious to me. It was obvious to me, as an outsider, that for him to see breakthrough and hope and change for himself, there were some key beliefs that I felt he needed to let go of. But until that happens, I believe he will continue to really struggle.
[Update: sometime in 2022 I looked at his LinkedIn profile and saw that he did find another job. I am truly glad for him that he did, because I myself know what it’s like. My aforementioned point remains though about the struggle.]
One of the
key turning points I noticed in our friendship was when he came to visit, kind
of unexpectedly, for the weekend of his birthday in 2018. I took him out to
celebrate, expecting and assuming, like every time previously, that it would be
another round of hanging out and catching up like we’d always done. And it was. He shared some things that even now I do still consider exciting. In that
conversation, I shared my excitement for him.
But then,
in this meal, as he was sharing the ways he was growing and changing in that
time, he also said to me something like this: “I don’t know what [name
of mutual friend with whom we’ve done flying trips] thinks, but I do know
he’s a conservative, and I don’t know… if it was a stranger who came up to me
and said that they were not for gay marriage, I would reject them without a
second thought. Someone who I’m a friend with… I don’t know. I’d have to think
about it. All I can say is, I am what I am. If you want to be my friend, you
have to accept me for who I am. If you reject this part of me, you’re rejecting
all of me. And don’t tell me ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’… no. If you reject
this part of me, you’re rejecting all of me.”
I have to pause the story here. As I was writing and editing this blog post, I really wanted to write a retort. I had a good one, too. But, as a Bible-believing Christian, our two first and greatest commandments are 1.) to love God with all of our being, and 2.) to love our neighbors as ourselves. (Matthew 22:37-39, Mark 12:29-31) Bottom line, my childhood best friend, who just said the above, was still my neighbor. He’s unsaved. He evidently has a hard heart. And, in my earnest conviction, he’s not gay. He never was. He has simply been lied to all this time and doesn't realize it. And yet, even he has told me that one of the things he wants more than anything else in his life is simply connection with a community of friends. (Of other men I have known who had had same-sex attraction but chosen to live according to the Bible and not their own personal desires, the underlying need was the same. From this, I am convinced that this is a common human need, not just for people who say they’re gay, but for anyone.) From the last couple years of conversations we have had, he hasn’t had that. He’s also hurting, disillusioned, and lost. And like everyone else, he too needs Jesus. He needs Jesus’ love and forgiveness. But he must soften his heart to receive it.
What
prompted this blog post was a meal with another friend, one I met through my gigs at
nursing homes jobs. Let’s call him “Jerry.” Like my childhood best friend, Jerry identifies as gay. One time
he asked me, while I was between relationships, if I would ever consider dating
a guy. I politely said no, I’m only interested in women. But I went on to
affirm him as a friend, and told him I still liked him, just not “in that way.”
(In this moment, I could finally understand what it was like to be my woman
friend a decade ago who repeatedly gave me kindness even as she also repeatedly
rejected my advances.)
Like my childhood best friend, Jerry also has been currently struggling in life. He has pain beyond what I can even imagine, although I know pain. A big part of his pain includes women. And like with my childhood best friend, I don’t think Jerry is gay; he just thinks he is. That said, I try to encourage him because, while I stand staunchly pro-Biblical marriage, I do think homophobia is a sin, and giving in to fear and hatred of people who identify as gay, strictly on those grounds, is wrong. He needs people who can come alongside him to encourage him. And of course, he needs to receive Jesus as his Lord and his Savior. At the end of that dinner, I invited Jerry, who is an artist, to an artist prayer and support group that I used to attend, at the church I used to attend. I’m not sure if he ever went. I myself was torn as to whether I should go with him. On the one hand, me going with him would encourage him to go, and it would encourage him to plug in to community. On the other hand, I left that church for a reason. Several reasons, actually. At least Jerry appeared to have somewhat of a soft heart, open to community and healing.
Back to my
childhood best friend. Unlike with “Jerry,” I cannot appropriately give him a
pseudonym. I’ve talked about him (peripherally) in several other blog posts. To
suddenly give him a name, whether his real name or a pseudonym (my preference,
to protect their identities), I feel would go against this picture I’ve painted
of him in previous posts. So he remains “my childhood best friend.”
After my childhood best friend's rant in 2018, I first responded with silence. I then replied softly that I know
of a few men in my life who have had same-sex attraction but strove to live
holy lives. The conversation shifted to a different topic not long after.
Interestingly, while I had to process that moment with different friends, by
all appearances the friendship seemed to remain intact. (After all, he still
reached out to hang out each of the following times he came to town to visit,
and then in 2020 via video chat when COVID hit.)
That
conversation affected our friendship in such a way that, for a time, I couldn’t
be all of myself with him. (I kind of had already made that choice years
earlier because I didn’t (and still don’t) know how to really stand for my
beliefs on marriage with those who don’t agree.) But this was to a whole other
level. This was him speaking with anger and defiance, saying that he would
reject people who didn’t agree with him. This moment contrasted many moments
from years before, on kind of similar topics (like faith), he had expressed not
wanting to rush into deciding what he believed. Now, it was clear that I
couldn’t tell him where I stood if I wanted to keep the friendship.
Looking
back, I suspect it was “the post” in January 2021 that I lost him. My decision
about politics and worldview, along with the faith perspective that I already
had, came about from a series of conversations with multiple different people
(and most of all, with God). This – and all parallel decisions – was not a
decision I made lightly. It was a big deal, in large part because it meant that
so many people that I was close with for many years, if they were to know,
especially in today’s day and age, would see me differently. Some might even
decide to cut ties with me because this particular topic would be too much for
them. (Mind you, these are all projections, but I’ve also done life with many of
these individuals for years and witnessed their anger when politics came up.)
But I
realize that part of it, with my childhood best friend, was the fact that he
was in a bad place when I last talked to him in December 2020, and really, he had been in a bad
place for a while. The things he listed that were struggles for him affected
all areas of his life, and were things that had gradually compounded over time.
And yet, the advice that I had for him (I didn’t tell him that I don’t think
he’s gay, but I commented instead on other things he shared), none of the thoughts
I had appealed to him, and he spoke equally freely in telling me as such.
[Note:
having not only been through therapy but also have had many friends also on the
journey, I do realize that giving unsolicited advice is often not the right
thing to do. The thing is, I don’t offer it often. I really don’t. In this
case, I chose to speak my mind, 1.) to encourage him, 2.) to point out what I
felt was obvious, based on the specific struggles he was sharing, and 3.) based
on what I could tell, he didn’t have anyone that he described as reliable that
he could lean on. In other words, I felt like I was his lifeline. If I didn’t
tell him the things I felt he needed to hear, things that, if he were to
implement would set him free… if I didn’t tell him these things, who else would?]
I don’t know if he still reads this blog – if he does, and if he has made it this far, and he wants to talk to me about it, the door is open. I expect to be busy, but I also plan to make myself available when I can. I realize there’s that question of “well, why don’t you reach out to him?” My answer is simply this: I don’t really have the desire or energy to get into an argument with him over this. I want him to reach out to me only when he’s ready. I also realize I can't help him with the struggles he has in his life. I do also have other priorities, which makes this difficult. My heart does break for him and for the drop in our connection, but I can't spend a whole lot of time on it. So I write. I write to put this out there for both our sakes. And I choose to pray for him.
[Update: this last paragraph, more than any other, reveals the place I was in September 2021, when I first wrote this out. That was when this realization first hit me, and my emotions were what they were at that time. Now, in June 2023, I'm in a different place with it, and Part 4 of this series, set to be released in just a couple of days, will speak more accurately to where I am with this now.]
As for
others who read this who knew that I once was pro-gay marriage, the reason, which
I have stated but will state again, is simple: I believe the God of the Bible.
I believe that the Bible is indisputably the inerrant Word of God. If there
were ever anything wrong about it, it’s in how other humans have interpreted
it, sometimes twisting it. But the Word itself is pure. My current church, Good
News, professes this truth basically every week, no matter what the sermon
topic is. Even my previous church, the Vineyard, acknowledged that we needed
God’s Word along with the Holy Spirit, and that it was the Truth as well. So,
if the Bible says that homosexuality is wrong (Leviticus 18:22), and that marriage is strictly
for one man and one woman (Matthew 19:3-9, Mark 10:2-9), I’m sorry, but I can’t go against that. I tried for
years and didn’t win, although God was gentle with me even as He won.
That said,
I also want to emphasize that it is not only possible but mandatory to speak
hard truth, while loving the person. Because this post already has gone on so
long, I’ve decided to split this into two posts. There’s more I want to say,
more encouraging things that I would rather say to anyone who earnestly
believes they’re gay, or anyone who doesn’t identify as gay but still earnestly
believes that some people are. Please see the next post in this series for the
rest. I hate to end on a rough, tough note, but knowing some members of my
audience, If I were to put this and what I want to say next post as all one
lengthy post, I fear it will never get read, again due to potential hardness of
heart of some readers.