This blog is long overdue. Though many of my friends for whom it is meant may speak Afrikaans, German, Swedish or perhaps another language, I write it in English simply because it is not easy to choose the words every time again. If I had the time and energy I would have preferred to write to many different friends individually, because what I am about to write is quite personal.
With only a few more formalities remaining, I will officially stop working with the wonderful Christian Missions organization I have worked with as a volunteer for nearly twelve years. This decision came at the end of a process which at times has been difficult and painful for both sides.
A long road
The process began when I discovered that I was different. Looking back over the years I can trace that awareness back to my first year in high school, but I managed to suppress the feelings I had and to reinterpret them for such a long time that I was about 28 before, for the first time, I dared to admit to myself that perhaps I was what they call 'gay'. I certainly was not happy about that. Still don't like the word very much, but for lack of a better term in English. It took another couple of years before I admitted it to a friend and told a few leaders, friends and family about that. Fear of rejection, but also fear of falling away from God kept me from being open. The message I got was very black and white. I still remember the words of a colleague who did not know about me when she said: "I am sorry, if you are gay you can't be a Christian." Or the words of a prominent church leader who asked when I was getting married and when I told him that there was nothing on the horizon said: "I hope you are not queer." Those words felt like daggers in my heart. I silently endured their pain for fear that once I told the truth, no more words would be spoken.
I should not judge. For I have spoken words like that myself. As a young pastor I affirmed that homosexuality was a choice, even though I tried not to be too judgmental when saying that. But if it is a choice, one simple choice, why could a thousand determined choices, not cure me? I prayed. I tried therapy. But nothing changed. In fact, it got worse, because I was left with more and more questions about God and life. In this period I started studying the Bible more intensively. This was and still is an exciting journey in itself, giving me a passion and appreciation for the Jewish and Christian Scriptures. It also confronted me with evidence that everything was not as black and white as I always learned or thought.
If the world seems black and white, it is rather due to the glasses we wear. Even trying to squeeze everything into seven rainbow colors may not do justice to reality. In fact a panel beater often has a hard time finding the exact kind of red when repairing a damaged car, and a famous painter may struggle to mix the yellow of the flower he wants to paint. Is that why Jesus taught people not to judge? As humans we are simply unable to judge the motives of another person, especially when we are standing at some distance from them. On top of that our judgment is often colored by our own fears, insecurities and pain.
Coping and Changing
Once I recognized that I was different, I thought I could cope living in a community where happy families seemed to be the only legitimate expression of intimacy, by keeping busy. I filled my schedule with exciting challenges, travelling and teaching. In my free time, I escaped into a world of adrenaline and instant success, playing computer games. At least that kept me from the street and reasonably free from temptation. Lonely summers and long weekends finally got the better of me. The safe Christian bubble I was living in became suffocating. It is hard to make real friends if you always keep a significant part of who you are, hidden from others. What do you do when you feel the situation is unfair, but you cannot even talk about it? What do you do if you feel depressed because you are lonely and not understood? On an internet forum for Christian gays, I met people whose stories sounded much like mine. Real people. Some of the stories about their struggles broke my heart.
Listening, thinking, praying I became convinced that I could not make a contribution towards making things better by keeping silent. I also had to confront the pride in me that was not willing to be known fully for who I am. Not that my whole identity is defined my it, but it does have a significant influence in my life. Keeping it to myself resulted in internal struggles and tensions which affected who I was outwardly. Can you imagine what it does to someone when you are never able to even say that you like the appearance of another man? Or why you are not married?
Dialogue
Being open about it was not all that simple either. When I became more open in public it became important what I thought about relationships and what the dreams for my own life were. I have become convinced that trying to get healed or living a celibate life are not the only, and in many cases not the best options open to a Christian gay or lesbian person. I would have to go into too much detail to explain why I say that here. I am not sure if and how I can explain such a paradigm shift on a blog like this, but perhaps I can try to do so in more blog entries if people have specific questions. Ever since I read the biography of David du Plessis in my youth, I am convinced that dialogue is key. That is why at first I thought that a continuing dialogue would benefit both me and the organization I worked for, but the embarrassment my views would cause for an organization dependent on the goodwill of a conservative constituency made clarity important and led to the decision to terminate our mutual commitment.
And now?
Though in some ways it is also a relief, it is hard to describe how much this hurts and how much the uncertainties and changes which it brings with it, will influence my life. Even though there were some aspects of YWAM life which drove me nuts and it sometimes tolerates views which are absolutely heretical, it remains a special family. For now I am planning to finish my studies at the university of Utrecht, hoping to stay in the Netherlands after that. This is where my life has developed for the last 13 years. As I said a little more than two years ago when I came out to a group of colleagues:
"In the end I hope that my greatest love will always be for a very special man, a man born of a virgin, who died on a tree and was resurrected from the dead."
