This post is part of my on-going story that I have been telling through this blog. If you are just coming here for the first time or if you need to catch up, you can catch the earlier parts of the story in Setting the Stage or Act One. See the navigation panel to the right labeled My Story. I hope that my sharing of my story is helpful, encouraging, informative, or at least entertaining for you. Please feel free to comment or contact me. Thanks!
In my former church community, I felt like I was in trouble a lot. With the fall of the Cord, I focused a lot on what I could have done to make things turn out differently. Was it my fault that it failed? Did God make it fail because I was gay? I was trying to fix that though. Didn’t that count for something? On another guilt-ridden channel of my mind, I was asking other questions. Was I supposed to even have been involved at all? Did I do harm by being involved because I had gone against my pastor, the person God had placed in spiritual leadership over me? My response to all of these questions was to double my efforts to crush any remnants of homosexuality within me and to live a life as pleasing as possible to God. I knew that I could never achieve perfection, but I had to try to get as close to that standard as I could.
In my former church community, I felt like I was in trouble a lot. With the fall of the Cord, I focused a lot on what I could have done to make things turn out differently. Was it my fault that it failed? Did God make it fail because I was gay? I was trying to fix that though. Didn’t that count for something? On another guilt-ridden channel of my mind, I was asking other questions. Was I supposed to even have been involved at all? Did I do harm by being involved because I had gone against my pastor, the person God had placed in spiritual leadership over me? My response to all of these questions was to double my efforts to crush any remnants of homosexuality within me and to live a life as pleasing as possible to God. I knew that I could never achieve perfection, but I had to try to get as close to that standard as I could.
In
retrospect, I can see that I was trying to earn the approval of men, and one
man in particular, not God’s, but, at the time, I equated the approval of my
pastor with the approval of God. I saw
him as being more experienced in relating to and communicating with God. Of course, he would have more insight into
what God’s will might be than I would. I
was afraid to trust my own judgment.
In order to
make sure that I stayed on what I perceived to be the right path, I threw
myself into my work at the church. I
also further narrowed my social circles, which were already pretty small. I made efforts to stay within the insular
community of the church and, more specifically, within the circle of my
pastor’s family and close friends. As I
have had the opportunity to reflect back on things over the past few years,
that really is where the true power of that church as other’s like it came
from. Participants within those
communities were encouraged to spend time together socially. The phrase, “what fellowship hath light with
darkness” was thrown around a lot.
Protecting your salvation and keeping on the straight and narrow meant
isolating yourself from those who might pull you down. At the core of the “church family” was a
machine, a handful of central cogs that drove the workings of the rest of the
collective community that gathered within the walls of the church at least
three times a week.
The church
did not have an official membership. The
pastor did not believe in church membership.
He wanted a church based on relationships, not numbers. In the defense of the pastor, his family, and
the others at the heart of the church’s inner workings, I believe that they are
completely unaware of the nature of their role in the integration and inclusion
of some while excluding and relegating to second-class status of others. I am sickened now as I look back and see my
own collusion in this.
What was
spoken was that faith was about relationship with God. In reality it wasn’t about that. It was really about what was exhibited
outwardly and who saw it. Even mainline
denominations speak of the fruits of the Spirit, but, in this environment, it
didn’t matter what you did or how you did things if the pastor or someone else
within the inner circle didn’t see it.
Also, there was a significant political element. When it came to church matters, there was no
Church Council or Staff Parrish Relations Committee. There was the will of those in leadership,
which ultimately came down to the will of one man, the pastor, and your will
and your words needed to align with his.
At the
time, I did it without thinking. It was
more of a survival reaction than anything.
As someone who was socially awkward growing up, and still is in many
situations, I feared losing my connection with the community of the
church. I could not have articulated
what it was that I feared at the time, but, in retrospect, it’s very
clear. Time and reflection have allowed
me to see those years of my life in far more objective ways. I did not have the confidence in myself at
the time to assert my own thoughts. Any
time that my thoughts were not in alignment with those at the core, I believed
that it must be mine that were out of alignment.
That time
was, and continues to be, so complex for me.
There is a part of me that still craves their approval. The more rational voice in my brain tells me
that I would have never been able to fully achieve that goal. Plus, it would have required me to be someone
that I wouldn’t like very much from my current point of view. The human mind can be a strange and complex
thing. Ultimately, of course, I am
thankful for the life that I am able to lead today as an openly gay man and a
person of faith, having found peace with who I am. Check back for more of my story next week.
Connect with me and other readers through my Facebook page:
Also, I will soon be launching a podcast with my co-host,
Alex Shanks. You can learn more about
that at:
No comments:
Post a Comment