Gay confession

I Was a Pastor and He Was Gay: A Confession

We were in our 20s when we met. Not yet a pastor, I was buzzing from several warm festival beers and he was buying the bolo tie I was selling at my friend’s rugby club booth. I could tell he wasn’t homosexual yet, but that wouldn’t be accurate, right? Well, he was still dating, or trying to date women. Impressed by the way I worked the crowd on that hot June evening, he tracked me down the following week and offered me a job.

We worked for the same company for a couple of years, became friends, roommates and budding entrepreneurs. Along the way, I smoked a nice bit of pot, had two children I was ill prepared for and he revealed to me that he was homosexual. It didn’t matter. Why would it?

Then existence happened. We went our separate ways. I turned back to the faith of my youth and he adjusted, or so I heard, to being as an openly same-sex attracted man in Texas. He called one day, years later. I wasn’t place. He told my wife (now ex), “I assume Ethan won’t want to talk to me since he’s a pastor now.” And he was right. He hadn’t become my enemy. It was just not going to operate. I wasn’t going to change him and there’s no way our modern lives could mesh. Sides h

Wednesday 24th May, 1989.

‘I’ve grown wary of men over the last few weeks since that awful evening when Stephen told me he had got help with David. I still remember that smirk on David’s face as they held hands after announcing the news. It was that kind of smirk that I wanted to wipe off his face. How I resisted not punching him that evening, I’ve no idea.

My love experience continues to result in me problems today when I bumped into Stephen again, and he asked, ‘Would I view him again?’ after telling me he’d made a dreadful mistake returning to David.

To say I was somewhat taken aback is an understatement. I was gobsmacked and didn’t know what to say. Ultimately, I asked if I could have some time to reflect about it. He’s handsome, but the fact that he went back to his partner over me rings alarm bells.

But worse was to come when Bob walked into Bromptons* tonight. Butterflies immediately started fluttering around my stomach.

Bob was with the guy I’d been hearing about. I’d heard rumours weeks ago that he was seeing somebody but didn’t trust them. Now I know that all I wanted was ‘NOT’ to beli

Of the many confessions I have made in my being, one will always stand out in my mind. It was Holy Thursday. I was in my early 20s. I was functional as an associate at a big law firm on Wall Street, a job I had pursued relentlessly after finishing law institution at a youthful age. Everything in life was going the way I wanted, imagined, envisioned and expected, except for one thing.

I approached the confessional with trepidation. Should I proceed to the traditional kneeler and maintain my anonymity? Or should I take a chance and meeting the priest face-to-face? I chose the latter. I entered, sat down, dispensed with the formalities and faced the 60-something-year-old priest. "Father," I said, "I'm gay."

I did not know what to expect. Fortunately, the priest was sympathetic and reacted with compassion. Relieved, I found myself telling him what I thought he "wanted" to hear: that my desire was to stay celibate. He listened very respectfully. As our conversation wound down, I prepared myself for the usual penance of Hail Marys and Our Fathers but instead he told me to "pray for an Easter miracle" which I took to mean to pray for my orientation to change.

That confession initia

Eternal God,
I confess I contain sinned against you in mind, word and deed;
By what I have done and by what I have left undone.
I own not loved you with my whole heart.
I have not loved my neighbor as my self.

Holy Week invites us to occupy intensely in examination of our actions—known in Christian tradition as confession of sin—more than any other moment in the church year. Our hosannas on Palm Sunday give way to our somber confession on Good Friday, captured in the Good Friday hymn “Ah Holy Jesus, how hast Thou offended?” This meditative lyric always stirs my soul, especially in the second verse:

‘Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee;
I crucified thee.

How possess I denied Christ by behavior or inaction? What is mine to confess during these climactic days heading to the cross and tomb?

During the course of this past year, I include become especially aware of the straight privilege I am granted—even though I am bisexual.

I name as bisexual because I understand I am able to like people of my own gender and of a gender distinct from me. I’m not vertical, but I can pass as straight because I am married to a man. We will celebrate our 33^rd wedding anni