This is Kingdom Work
I'm standing in a gay bar on a Thursday night, having just left my house church to hear a couple friends sing karaoke. A beautiful man walks up and strikes up a conversation. When he asks how I know my friend who's singing, I tell him we're part of a gay Christian group that meets once a month.
"Gay and Christian?" he responds. "How have you managed that?"
What follows is a 45-minute conversation about prayer, spiritual encounters, the uniqueness of Jesus, and what I sense God saying about his own destiny. He listens intently, asking insightful questions. "Wow. So much of what you're saying resonates with me, even though I am an atheist," he tells me. We exchange numbers in case he wants to talk more.
In my book, this casual conversation is valuable Kingdom work. And interactions like these are a regular part of my life these days…
Ever Living On Mission
What does everyday life look like, being openly gay and devoutly Christian?
Well, it’s an adventure honestly.
I definitely have come to feel like a missionary to an unreached people group. It just so happens to be a people group that, in my self-righteousness and fear of temptation, I held at a distance for the first quarter of my life (when I was still closeted).
Now, I am seeing God move in some of the most encouraging ways among this beautiful community. (And I always walk away so blessed from all the ways God ministers to me through the individuals I am trying to serve!)
If you have the time, I'd like to share just a few other quick stories from the last few months of my normal, daily life. Here is a small window into my version of “the gay lifestyle”...
Giving Witness to His Love, the Best I Know How
One day I grabbed brunch with a new gay friend of mine. He's not a believer, and never has been. I tell him a little about my journey reconciling my faith with my sexuality. I explain some of my reasoning behind ending up celibate. He finds that interesting, and assures me that it's not too weird from his perspective. He respects my stance.
We talk for a long time, and it becomes very clear that he loves his friends and family very generously. He clearly puts others before himself, humbly choosing to serve and esteem them even at his own expense at times. I tell him I see Christ-likeness within him.
Later in conversation, he makes some self-deprecating statements. I interject to tell him how deeply loved he is by God (making reference to the Cross). I remind him that he is no less valuable than all the other people in his life who he treats with such kindness. Finally, as he opens up further, I offer that he can become more deeply grounded in the unconditional love that God continually reveals to us all by spending time with Jesus in prayer.
Weeks later I received a text from this friend. He tells me that my words moved him deeply... so deeply, in fact, that he had to process them with his therapist. And he says the thing that struck him most was that I clearly had no agenda for him – other than to convince him of how cherished he is.
The other morning I met up for coffee with a bisexual guy that I have known for years. We had a delightful time catching up. I asked him if he's listened to the podcast that I was interviewed on recently.
"I have, and I loved the way you answered the questions about your spirituality and experience being gay! If I had pastors who could have responded to me the way you responded, years ago when I was first questioning my faith, it's very possible that I would have never left the Church."
Later, in a separate conversation, he asked me about my house church. He mentioned he'd really love to check it out sometime.
Last week I had dinner with another old friend of mine who felt super rejected by her Charismatic church circles in the past, when she came out as queer. She's now dating a woman, and she tells me about their plans to move in together. We chat about that, and then she asks me for updates on the growth of my house church. I explain some of our plans for the future, and express my excitement for where we are headed.
"It all sounds so lovely," she says. "I really want to come sometime, and bring my girlfriend. I miss having spiritually minded people surrounding me."
She expresses all of this, knowing full well that our community holds to a traditional sexual ethic.
For a couple months I’ve been texting back and forth with a young gay man, who heard about our Revoice chapter and had interest in coming. He was very nervous about what the group might be like, but he finally worked up the courage to attend a meeting with us. He had to drive over an hour just to be there.
In the meeting, he reveals he’s been struggling with serious, dire mental health struggles. It has a lot to do with how impossible he finds it to be an openly gay person within conservative Christian circles. We all express that we understand what he’s going through and offer him some encouragement from our own personal experiences. We are so grateful he felt safe to share with us.
At the end of the night, we all pray over one another. The presence of the Spirit is tangible, and everyone walks away uplifted and refreshed.
Later, the new guy messages some of us, writing: “I will definitely be back. I feel like I have finally found my people!”
Today a pastor I know texted me saying he would love to get my perspective on a complicated issue. We went to a cafe, he bought me some coffee, and he proceeded to tell me all about a teenager in his church who is living a double lifestyle as a closeted gay person. He wanted more perspective on what might be going on with this individual, and how to wisely address it as a leader who the individual has not yet opened up to… It was a rich, engaging conversation.
I walked away convinced that the pastor was committed to shepherding well at all costs. Hopefully he was also feeling more equipped to know how to do so in a way that would actually translate effectively as sincere love for the young person’s very guarded heart.
Imagine If I Stayed Quiet Instead?
All of these stories have been massively condensed. I've also left out pretty much all of the coolest details of these conversations, to protect the privacy and honor of those I had these chats with.
I could tell so many other experiences too, from previous months and years, including:
When my lesbian relatives opened up to me for the first time about their whole decades-long spiritual journeys with Jesus.
The trans person who came out to me, letting me be one of the first people in her Christian community to know the story she'd been hiding for years.
The bisexual college student who I've known from church for about a decade, telling me some of his own secret life as a queer person, and asking me about what motivated me to come out into the light.
The gay man at a Revoice conference, who I prophesied over while he was depressed and heavy-hearted. He later began to worship with abandon, dancing and twirling with a newfound freedom. For months afterward he was still overflowing with joy.
The gay twenty-something, who calls me several times a month, just to process the highs and lows of his walk with Jesus. He’s grown so incredibly much in faith, maturity, wisdom and emotional stability over the past few years.
