On June 21,
1996, I timidly but with determination made my way to the front of a small
non-denominational church in my hometown of Zanesville, Ohio. I was hungry to find hope and meaning for my
life. I had begun attending the church a
month before, and I wanted to be a part of this community where I felt that I
had found a family. The details are
still etched in my mind as I slid from the center of the pew in which I was
sitting, and another young man named Terry slid his legs to the side to let me
pass. This was a big moment for me, but
I wasn’t sure it would be noticed by anyone else. There were a lot of people at the altar
already. In churches like this, it isn’t
uncommon for those who have already made commitments to their faith to come
forward to make public their repentance or desire to connect with God. There were steps leading up to the platform
on either side of the sanctuary. I sat
on right side of the room facing the stage along with a lot of the other youth
and young adults. I knelt in front of
the steps closest to me but just to the right of center. A few seconds passed. I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew that there was a prayer I needed to
say, but what if I said it wrong? I
strongly desired to connect with God, and I felt God calling me. I didn’t want to mess this up by not doing it
right. Then, I heard the pastor’s voice
speaking softly into his microphone, “ Lenny, talk to Josh. Talk to Josh.” As Lenny, who was the youth pastor at the
time, led me through the sinner’s prayer, I felt the nervousness leave me and
the warm embrace of God fill me.
As I rose
from the altar, the enormity of what had just happened began to sink in. I had just gotten saved. I was born again. Now, that is not the way in which I would
describe my faith relationship today.
Today, I would tell you that I am a follower of the teachings of Jesus. That is no disrespect to those who use
“saved” or “born again” language, but, to me, being “born again” was far more
about the hereafter and the promise of a life after death while I consider
being a follower of the teachings of Jesus to be more about making a difference
in and through the life and the world that we have now. I want you to understand where my mind was
and what an enormous new world that I felt had just been opened up to me.
Within
another month or so, I had shared with some at the church about what I
considered, at the time, to be my real struggle. I was gay, and I didn’t want to be. I knew that it went against God’s plan and
that I was doomed to hell if I couldn’t get control over it and defeat it. Anyone that I spoke to was very encouraging
and supportive. There had been a man who
attended the church before me. His name
was Denny. He identified as gay, but I
was told that he had conquered his desires and turned away from
homosexuality. Unfortunately, he had
passed away from complications related to HIV, and I never had the opportunity
to meet him. Still, his story became a
source of hope to me. When I would fall
short in terms of my thought-life or succumbed to looking lustfully upon
another man, I would feel that I had not only disappointed God but that I had
disappointed Denny.
After I had been at the church for
several months, some friends asked me if I wanted to go to a Christian
concert. There were two or three musical
acts, but I honestly don’t remember who all was playing. I believe the headliner might have been Audio
Adrenaline, but I might be mixing that up with other experiences as I would end
up going to many shows of this nature of the coming years. The one performer that I do remember was a
newcomer to the contemporary Christian music scene, but she was a star on the
rise. One of the organizers for the show
was looking for volunteers to work the merchandise (merch) tables at the show,
and my friends got me one of the volunteer slots. I didn’t make much money at the time, and
this was a way for me to get into the show without having to buy a ticket. I was assigned the task of working the table for
this new artist who was on her meteoric rise to fame. Her name was Jennifer Knapp.
It was the first time I’d ever
heard the name, Jennifer Knapp. I didn’t
even get to meet her that night as she had to be rushed off to another show
right after finishing this one. There
was a barrier separating the merch tables from the concert floor. I could hear the music, but, in order to see
the stage, I had to stretch to see over the barrier. I caught a few glimpses of her, but I
remember really liking her. She was so
simple. It was just her and her guitar,
and her lyrics seemed to have more depth and felt more personal than many of
the other Christian artists I had heard. As the
years rolled on, I would end up owning a few of her CD’s mixed in with the
others, but I didn’t really feel a special or personal connection to her
music. I did kick myself occasionally
for not trying harder to meet her that night before she climbed her way to the
pinnacle of Contemporary Christian Music.
Then, a few years ago, in 2009, I
found myself in a crisis of faith. After
having spent the last thirteen years asking God to heal me of my homosexuality,
my journey had led me to a point that I realized that one of two things had to
be true: God either was not fixing me
because God was incapable of doing so (a conclusion that I could not make work
within my personal theology) or God was not fixing me because I was not
broken. I did not know if it was
possible for me to continue as a Christian, or as a person of faith of any
kind, while also claiming my identity as a gay man, but I knew that I could not
continue the inauthenticity of the life I had been living any longer.
In 2010, I would attend my first
Pride parade in Columbus Ohio. I was
taken aback by the number of churches marching in the parade, and a larger
number of them were United Methodist Churches.
That began my journey towards connecting with the Reconciling Ministries
Network and, eventually, becoming a member of a reconciling congregation.
In September of 2009, after having
taken a seven-year hiatus from public life, Jennifer Knapp returned to the
stage, and, in April of 2010, she announced to the world that she was a lesbian
and had been in a committed relationship with another woman for eight years. I respected her so much for being public
about her relationship. I knew the world
that she had risen to stardom in, and I knew that she had just cut herself off
from so much of that fan base. I knew
that they would not be able to open themselves up enough to accept her in light
of this revelation. She may very well be
putting an end to her second go at a music career before it ever got started,
but, having been on my own journey of self-discovery, I knew that, once you
realize your own authenticity, you can’t, with any level of personal integrity,
go back into a world of self-denial.
My mind went back to that show all
those years ago in Zanesville, Ohio. I
was right there, so close to her, separated only by a fabric barrier and a
couple of hundred enthusiastic music fans.
I began to ask questions life, “What if I had been able to speak to her
back then?” and wondering if we would have been able to spare each other all
those years of self denial. It didn’t
take me long to realize how futile it was to ponder such things. Even if someone else had told me back then
that it was okay to be me, I wasn’t ready to hear it. I wasn’t ready to accept myself. I would have viewed it as an attack upon my
newfound Christian identity and responded with a, “Get thee behind me, satan.” As much as I wish I could have gotten there
more quickly, I needed to go on the journey that has brought me to where I am,
and, while I didn’t yet know much about the details of Jennifer’s story, I
imagined that she probably needed to as well.
Late last year, when Jennifer’s
book, Facing the Music, was published, I eagerly downloaded and read it. While I am surrounded by so many amazing
people to encourage and support me in my faith and my life, I have few who can understand
that evangelical chapter of my past. I
was excited to connect, through her book, to someone else who had been a part
of that world. I appreciated the
transparency that she brought to her writing.
It put me back in those days so quickly and not in an unhealthy
way. It made me so appreciative of the
fact that both she and I as well as so many others have found our way, not only
to a place of self-acceptance but to self-embracing and, therefore, to a
greater and wider understanding of love and God than we ever could have been
open to before.
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| Jennifer's book, Facing the Music |
This past weekend, I was in San
Antonio Texas to come together with over seven hundred other progressive United
Methodists to discuss the work of making our church more inclusive and bring it
more into alignment with the teachings and practices of the historical
Jesus. On Saturday evening, there were
two speakers. One was Frank Schaefer,
the amazing courageous United Methodist pastor turned equal rights advocate who
was defrocked for performing the same-sex wedding of his son, Tim. The other was Jennifer Knapp. Following the banquet, I waited outside the
hotel ballroom for her to come out. I
bought another copy of her book and asked her to sign it. I wanted to say more, but I was a bit
star-struck in the moment. I took a
picture with her and walked away, kicking myself for not letting her know more
about how much her story and the timing of her coming out had encouraged me on
my own journey.
 |
| Me and Jennifer Knapp at Gather at the River in San Antonio |
The next morning, I found myself in
the hotel lobby when I saw Jennifer rush into the coffee shop at the
hotel. I waited for her to come out,
and, when she did, I asked her if I could have a moment. She graciously said yes, but she let me know
that she had a car waiting to take her to Austin. I walked and talked with her, sharing my
story as we moved closer to the door and the waiting car. Within a few minutes, I was able to share
with her about the show in Zanesville, my years living as an ex-gay, the
struggle that I had gone through to accept myself as a person faith, and my
current journey as a seminarian to become a counselor and help others who find
themselves conflicted in the areas of spirituality and sexuality. I thanked her for sharing her story, and she
thanked me for sharing mine with her.
She told me that she plays in Ohio a lot and told me to come see her the
next time she is near me. I told her
that I would. As we parted ways and she
headed towards her car, I stood there, inwardly reflecting and smiling to myself. I had finally had the conversation with her
that I needed to have. Also, I was thankful
that we were both there in San Antonio at that moment and that both of our
lives had brought us to a point where we were at peace in our faith, our
relationships with other, and our lives as a whole.
~ Culbs
joshua.culbertson@gmail.com
