I was baptized at the age of 10 as an Anglican. My parents waited until I was old enough to choose my own religious faith sooner than force it on me. They were small “c” Christians, believing that refraining from criminal activity was sufficient proof of one’s Christianity.
I was educated at a Presbyterian school, and took comfort from God without truly knowing him. It was a drab style of worship. No sacraments. Lethargic hymns sung to a pipe organ. Presbyterianism is the beige cardigan of religions whereas Pentecostal, I would now say, is the technocoloured dream coat.
I went to an all boys military school. I was sexually active with classmates from primary school. Around the time of my baptism, I read in the Websters Unabridged Dictionary that homosexuality was a phase of pre-pubescence which would pass. I prayed I would grow out of it in the same breath as I prayed that God would give me hairs on my testicles. He obliged in relation to the latter request only.
I spent my 20s studying law part time at university whilst working full time in stressful corporate environments. I fell from one unfulfilling relationship to another. Men treated me like crap, only wanting sex when I wanted to emulate my parents’ marriage, so the relationships invariably failed and left me bitter. I grew apart from God, and sought meaning in witchcraft and the occult. I was scared off when I would wake up each night with a little black hooded devil, quite literally, sitting on my chest, pinning me to the bed, cackling. And so if you ever doubted he exists, please don’t. I’ve met him.
I developed depression and anxiety, and needed pills and shrinks. I grew into alcoholism and, for a brief time, drug dependence. Life sucked.
7 years ago, at age 28, I prayed to my estranged God to show me the way forward. Very soon after, I met my current partner, who has brought me joy and peace every day since. I then ended my career as a well paid corporate executive, and entered private practice as a legal aid lawyer. I took a huge pay cut, but started a life of battling for the underdog, although it took a few years for me to realise that Christ was growing within me, and me within Him. The power of prayer is immense.
Last Easter, I turned a corner in my faith. I sought God out in a Presbyterian church and invited him into my life. I begged him to release me from my remaining addictions, alcohol and cigarettes, and promised to reward him with faith and service. I have not drunk for a year, since Easter Sunday 2008. For some months now, I have been a non smoker. Through prayer, I have had no cravings for either vice and am never even tempted.
I have accepted and loudly proclaim Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour. I have a Christian fish bumper sticker and wear a cross around my neck. I start every day as a lawyer by praying for my clients, and for complete strangers for that matter. I recently prayed for the survivors of a fatal car accident near my home, and within a few weeks the man who lost his wife and daughter just happened to become a client. God brought him to me so that I can go the extra mile, and provide comfort as well as legal services. I’m sure many of you will have found this as well, but now that I work with God, God works with me.
Unlike so many of my brothers and sisters in Christ, I have come to God organically and not through any particular church. This presents a challenge and dilemma all in one. Which church should I embrace? To whom should I tithe and with whom should I minister? All churches are open for consideration, and I am working my way through them. In the mean time, I’m worshiping in the Uniting Church, which is perhaps a brightly coloured cardigan, but a cardigan nevertheless.
In my journey to find my place in the body of Christ, God led me to a pastor in a local Pentecostal church. I enjoy fervent worship at this type of church on occasion, but would never have considered making it my church because I know they reject GLBT folks. However, the Spirit told me to email this pastor, who I will call “Bob”, telling him I am openly gay and asking whether his church would embrace me with dignity and respect. Bob responded with warmth, asking me to visit him at the church to talk, which I did yesterday. He asked me to explain how I reconcile homosexuality with the Bible, which I managed to do most eloquently as the Holy Spirit surged purposefully within me. Bob showed me great concern and warmth, but confirmed with regret the church’s official position. He encouraged me to worship there, but warned me I would be shunned by members if I let my sexuality be known.
And then the hand of God revealed itself. Choking back tears, Bob shared how his family has been rocked by his brother’s homosexuality and how much pain has been caused from the friction with the church. Bob’s brother has recently abandoned his faith and turned from God because of the church’s attitude and treatment of him. I have passed to Bob a useful article I have found which seeks to reconcile Christianity and homosexuality. I am planning to give him also a copy of Anthony’s autobiography. Bob has made it clear that he wants ongoing fellowship with me, irrespective of where I choose to worship.
I’m now a bit confused and seeking further guidance through prayer. It seems mad for a gay man to choose to be Pentecostal. In fact it is so crazy, it sounds like the sort of thing only Jesus Himself could possibly ever come up with.
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