I've been rereading "Unwanted" for therapy, and it continues to reveal my uncomfortable reflection – all of it, all of me. It often feels like fluorescent lights buzzing overhead at midnight. And yet Stringer's premise encourages me: sexual brokenness almost paradoxically revealing paths to healing.
This missionary gentleman asked if I'd consider participating in a Bible study he'd be leading. After some thought and prayer, I agreed. The first step of joining this group required each participant to share his or her testimony. I knew this upon agreeing to attend, and I had time to prepare. Of course, part of my testimony is being a gay, celibate Christian. I knew I'd have to share this detail; why wouldn't I be completely transparent in my testimony?
I want to talk about rape – specifically, my childhood rape. I want to tell this difficult story for two reasons: healing for myself, and more importantly healing for anyone else reading. Please read at your own discretion.
It would be easy to write a few paragraphs about how virtuous all these wonderful men were; how they showed me the (gender-neutral) love of Jesus; how bravely they pursued vulnerability with one another. But I want to do something stupider. I want to write about a vibe, an aesthetic, a rumor of masculinity which I seemed to detect at my first YOBBERS Retreat.
Newcomer to the podcast but not to our community, longtime member Matt shares about his life in a celibate partnership with another man. He talks about splitting time in two locations to be close to his parents as well as his partner, with whom he co-owns a house. He shares openly how there was never any sort of road map to this particular kind of "Side B" journey, connecting with some other celibate couples over time. Matt shares the joys of hospitality with his partner, as well as some of the challenges of celibate partnership -- namely, translating the essence of his relationship to certain audiences, including secular friends and the workplace. Matt also shares his journey of becoming Eastern Catholic, finding a home in his faith amid his celibate partnership.
Daniel returns to discuss his life in SoCal, living with two straight men! Like Andrew, he also moved across America for a new start and a new home from the Midwest. He tells us Andrew's teased "pots and pans" story from our last episode, a snapshot of pursuing healthy communication and expectations with straight roommates. Daniel shares some of the joys of living with straight men, including the activities in which they partake with each other and all of Daniel's queer friends, as well as the challenges. What will happen if and when these straight men choose to marry women and move out? Is there still joy to be found in the seasonality of such a home life?
Andrew returns to tell the tale of his cross-country move from Ohio to Southern California! What led him to leave the only home he’d ever known to find a new one? He shares about his upbringing in the Midwest, including many years of homeschooling, and a friend who prompted him to ponder the possibility of a new start. Andrew basks in the literal and existential sunshine of his new life in SoCal, talking about his new queer community and an accepting church that makes him feel at home in his faith and sexuality. But what of his masculinity? Where does and doesn't he feel quite "at home" in that arena?
I learned that it wasn't safe for me to talk about or process through any of this struggle. Not at this church. And that is just what I did for the rest of high school. I didn't talk about my sexuality with anyone at that church again.
This year for Lent, I felt like the Lord told me to give up "selfishness." But what the heck does that mean? Isn't that kind of...generic? Vague? A little too open-ended? Perfect, I can open the door for others before opening it for myself. Check. Well, let's back up a bit: I'm 27 years old, I'm an actor, and this last year has been a whirlwind, at best.
It's no secret that the LGBT+ community has a complicated history with the Christian church. This culture war has bled into the church for decades, resulting in those who experience same-sex attraction in their congregations to feel uncared for, unloved, and at worst, excommunicated from the church community. These experiences create soul wounds.