Stay in Community

Is the risk worth it?
I hope this article encourages those who have been hurt in past friendships and relationships, to stay in community with others. I suggest that committing is worth it, as we take the risk of being open and vulnerable with others.

 
The need for connection
At the age of fourteen, I put my faith in Christ. I was born again in the moment that I was led through a prayer of coming to Jesus at a Billy Graham Crusade in Wembley Stadium. This was when Billy Graham came to the UK in 1989. As a fourteen-year-old at secondary school, I knew as a new Christian that I was already questioning my sexuality. My primary-aged innocent girlfriend relationships were now being replaced with sexual attraction to my male peers. This was something I did not admit to anyone or talk about until my mid-twenties.
At that time, I was dating a female Christian from my home church, Sarah (name changed), and we started talking about engagement and how serious we thought the relationship was. I knew in my heart that, as much as I loved Sarah as a special woman in my life, I had to tell her about my same-sex attraction. Sarah loved me, and continued to love me even after I told her this. The grace she showed me at the time has allowed us to remain friends even to this day. I was seeking relationship.

I soon entered into my first boyfriend relationship with Paul (name changed), another Christian I had made connection with through a ‘Gay Christian’ website. This felt ‘safe’ as Paul lived a long way from my home town and church as he lived in London. So, we were able to meet and date without anyone knowing: only Sarah knew. Paul and I dated for some time. We met, and even went on a summer break together. As much as everything seemed ‘perfect’ in this relationship with Paul, I was happy (being in relationship) but not happy (did not have peace). I was struggling with how I could reconcile this gay relationship with scriptures like “a man shall not lie with a man as he lies with a woman” (Leviticus 18:22).

With Sarah’s support, Paul and I mutually decided to end our partnered relationship. The day we had decided to do this, we had planned just to spend a pleasant day together. Sarah travelled to London with me on the train, and we spent the day as the three of us. When we said goodbye, we knew it was goodbye for the last time. We had decided no text, no phone contact, nothing, as it would be too painful.

 
We needed the break to not be ‘softened’ but to know the pain of it. It worked. I can honestly say that, since my mid-twenties, I have not entered into another male-to-male partner relationship. Sure, it would be nice for me as a same-sex attracted man. Yet, I know I would not have peace in it and that the separation that I would eventually go through would be too painful again. That day, when Paul and I said goodbye, being real was emotionally painful for me. I was giving up something I did not honestly want to give up: connection. Sarah travelled back on the train with me that day. She came out with us that day for two reasons: so that Paul and I would avoid any intimacy; and that I would not be alone as I travelled back.

 
Seeking support at church
What next? I knew there was a need for accountability outside of my friendship with Sarah. I knew I had to be open and honest about my same-sex attraction to my church pastor at the time. I arranged a time for this. For me, this was a big step. In reality I was coming out to him even before I had told my parents or anyone else in the family. In this moment, I do not know what I was expecting, but I know I was not expecting what sadly happened. I was prayed over in what I can only describe as a “pray the gay away” approach, and casting out a demon of homosexuality. This did not help heal my heart, nor did it help to deepen my relationship with God. On the contrary, after this leader had ‘prayed’ for me, he spoke about how good it was that I had told him, so now we could look at me stepping down from the ministries I was serving in at the time. As one of his co-leaders in the church at the time, I knew there were heterosexual marriages with problems in the church at the time. Let me simply say I knew that these marriages ‘had their own struggles’, yet we were not asking those men / women to hand over the ways they were serving. I could not understand why it was even a consideration that I may have to hand over specific responsibilities.

 
It felt like I was being punished for giving up my relationship with Paul, repenting, and coming in confession. There was also no after-care, no follow-up support. We did not talk of it any more. The only ‘follow-up’ this leader did with me was in a moment a few weeks later when the two of us were alone. He approached me with caution, as he checked over his shoulder and surroundings as if about to conduct some secret, and gave me a book titled, “Coming out of Homosexuality”, saying in an almost whisper “I bought this for you to read”. I thanked him for the book, but honestly I never read it. I didn’t want a book: I needed him to accompany me, to affirm my position in Christ and walk a journey with me.

 
Through other events that followed this, I eventually left that church fellowship. I now had the hard challenge of finding another church family, and learning to trust another pastor with my story.
 

Resolving to stay in community
One of the consequences of living in a fallen world is that we have already interacted with some people who have hurt us. Perhaps, in the case of our families, this may mean they have not fulfilled the role God meant them to fulfil in our lives. All these things leave us with wounds that make us sensitive to trying to reconnect with a community in the future. This is a natural response. In truth, it is God’s design for us as humans to have the ability to feel pain and negative emotions.

 
Without this ability, we would find ourselves in all kinds of danger. For instance, if I picked up a hot metal tray from a hot oven with my bare hand, but had no nerves or sensitivity to pain, my brain would allow me to keep hold of the hot tray and my hand might become burned and marred beyond use. But, at one time in my early childhood, I would have felt the pain of touching something hot with my bare hand, and the pain taught me to be more careful with hot things in the future.

 
What I didn’t do though was decide to stay away forever from everything that was hot, for hot things exist all around me in the world. I would miss out on some lovely things in life (like food!) if I avoided everything that was hot. It was not God’s intention for me to live in an isolated cold environment for the rest of my life. Rather, we need now to approach hot things with caution. If we have been hurt in the past, then it can be more difficult for us to ‘approach with caution’ in the future, especially if the community (or person) that caused us pain was someone we trusted, such as the church. God’s intention for us was to be in relationship with Him and others. God did not intend for ‘man’ (humankind) to live alone: “It is not good for man to be alone” (Gen 2:18). Recovering from a damaged friendship or relationship can be hard, and can keep us isolated if we fall into self-protection. This was my experience.

 
However, in time I was able to find another church and the pastor there was able to offer the affirmation of who I was in Christ, as I came as a same-sex attracted disciple of Jesus. Though forming new trusted relationships with people in that new community has taken time, I have committed to it. My new pastor led me to ministries that included TFT to put me into relationship with others on the same journey. I have been able to be open with others about my story and form new relationships that have helped me to thrive. As you take the risk of being open and vulnerable, I pray you will walk into the blessing of God.

This article was originally published in the Winter 2024 edition of the TFT magazine, Ascend. Click the button below to download your copy.