The Monkey's Pet Fish

I was having one of those "ugly" cries. You know that gross tears flowing out of my eyes with snot dripping from my nose and lips quivering into an upside down smile with cheeks tightened up. That kinda cry. It was one of those "ugly" cries.

Not cute.

I was driving on the freeway this morning when it happened, on my way to a church service at Newsong in Irvine, California. There's a few reasons why this is significant to me. For starters, it's a predominantly Asian congregation. Secondly, it's a predominantly straight congregation. Thirdly, it's a bit of a mega-church. If you've followed my story these past couple years you'd know that these are definitely outside of my comfort zone.

But the Lord, in His hilarity and divine plan, was sending me here and I knew exactly what was up His sleeve. I just didn't necessarily like the fact that I had to be the one, once again, to go do the thing that absolutely challenged my sense of courage and security.

I was having a breakthrough there in the car this morning. And that breakthrough was the realization that I was afraid of God's people. I've never been afraid of God. He's always been trustworthy and consistently by my side. He's my friend. But it's God's people that I fear, at times. Because much of the profound hurt that I've experienced in my life was connected in some way to God's people, my own brothers and sisters in Christ. Ironic.

I wasn't crying because of the fear though. I was crying because realizing the truth that many people are afraid of Christians and see them as unsafe hurt-ers instead of heal-ers makes me sad and (I think) grieves the Spirit . . . .(read more)

For the major part of my life I've experienced ethnic shame for being Filipino. I didn't like being Asian nor did I feel like I connected with other Asians. I experienced racial prejudice with slurs directed at me while at a very young age and I responded by internalizing that hatred. Until recent years, having come out of the closet, the Lord has done much healing in me in that area of my life. Particularly since the Lord had begun a process in me of learning how to love myself as I am, the way He does. And so I've found myself growing - becoming more and more comfortable around Asians and even being able to look in the mirror.

Going to the service at Newsong was also going to be the first time since coming out that I was going to be investing in relationships with straight people in a church fellowship. When I came out, I had primarily been visiting with and getting to know people in congregations where the majority of people were gay. But this morning, I wasn't simply visiting a "straight" church because of an invitation or because I was church hopping. Before I even experienced a sunday morning service at Newsong, the Lord had already been telling me that I was supposed to go and invest in relationships there. So whether or not my first impression was great or terrible, I already knew going in that I was going to keep coming.

The fact that this was a church with resources and lots of people and that God was sending me here didn't make me feel comfortable either. My paradigm of Church has always been that "church" was not a "place to go to" or a "thing to do". I believe that we are the Church - the web of relationships that comprise God's family who live out a lifestyle of faith, and so if we are to experience this community fully, we have to see past the man-made structures and begin to see a Church without walls. ("Jumping the Walls" and "Band of Brothers and Sisters" describes my paradigm of Church further.) But one of the things that I liked hearing about Newsong beforehand was that they taught about similar themes regarding the Church without walls. It would be interesting to see how this looked within the context of a mega-church structure - to see if the substance of relationships in community was present as evidence of those who lived out this "Church without walls" paradigm. Nevertheless, the things I had been told about Newsong before coming to a service was refreshing.

So there I was crying in the car talking with God about how He always seems to send me to uncomfortable places. The reality is that I'm just always willing to go where He is. He's taken me to some very interesting places in my life and they were all places where He was already actively working among the hearts of people there. And so here He was again, sending me to an Asian Straight Mega-Church. My God's a comedian and He thinks He's funny.

The point isn't that Newsong is fine and great and that God is working through them to minister to others. I'm sure that's happening but that's not what I'm talking about. The point is that God has been actively working on the hearts of people here at Newsong and He wanted me to witness it and possibly even be a part of it. I don't know exactly what that looks like but if indeed He's preparing their hearts to enter into friendly non-combative relationships with gay people as a different approach to the historically hostile approach towards them, then heck yeah I'll keep myself in proximity to wait for God's prompting or call on me to share my heart and life.

I can be pretty critical of the Church in general with all of it's institutional surface relationships that come in arrogantly and hypocritically with best intentions of helping poor needy souls. It's like the Church has a savior complex. But I'm not simply critical of the Church. I can see what the Church can be - effective ambassadors of reconciliation, once again. We're not that now. But we can be. I've often written and spoken about these things. But here, this morning, I could be in the very uncomfortable situation of being part of God's answered prayer. It's not enough for me to talk about how the Church needs to change while in the comfortable safe spaces of fellowship with people like me. No, if I was going to pray for it, then I have to be willing to be the tangible body that God uses to answer my own prayer. Otherwise, I'd just be complaining.

For several months now, the Lord had been speaking to me about building community among straight Christians who could be loving and supportive of those who are gay. I haven't seen that happening much elsewhere in the conservative evangelical world. For two years, the Lord had me investing in relationships with gay people and even catalyze a tangible sense of community among gay Christians. Now it seems the Lord would have me do similar things with straight Christians. And already knowing the character and trend of God in my own life, I can see how these two communities of gay and straight Christians can eventually be brought together - not through program or agenda but rather through relationship.

If that's what He's up to, then I'll go and do whatever He wants me to do. Even if that means going to a community of straight Asian Christians and for the first time offering myself authentically right from the start. I would make no effort to advertise the fact that I'm gay but I would make no effort to hide the fact either. I would allow myself to be known (organically and in due time) as the man that I am and if God sparks relationship between me and others then I trust that it will be mutually edifying.

But this comes with huge emotional and relational risk. I've no idea how I'll be received. I can say that the two people from this congregation that I've shared a meal with - dinner with the Life Development Pastor and lunch with the Small Groups Director - both received me with love and generous hearts. And I can call them friends. But I've got my share of baggage. My hope is simply to be known in safe ways and to know others in safe ways.

Honestly, though, I don't enter into this without my own hypocrisy. I speak a lot about the need for reconciliation and for the most part I've seen that in my life more and more. But very recently, only a week and a half ago, a friend that I've known for almost ten years betrayed my trust and I've been having a difficult time forgiving him - much less giving him the time of day or releasing his "blocked" status from my Facebook.

Boy, I'm telling you that actually living out this life with Jesus is tough! It's one thing to go through the motions on Sunday morning but it's absolutely another thing to be owning His life as mine.

The pastor at Newsong Church is Dave Gibbons. I don't know too much about his celebrity but I gather that the work and ministry that he's done for the Lord has been noticed in evangelical Christendom. He's also got a new book out called "The Monkey and the Fish: Liquid Leadership for a Third Culture Church" which I'm very interested in reading since much of what I've heard has resonated with my paradigm of Church. This morning, he shared several points with the congregation while introducing the eastern story of The Monkey and the Fish. In a nutshell, the story tells of a typhoon raging and the monkey who sees the fish in the water. With good intentions, the monkey tried to "save" the fish by picking it up out of the water. The pet fish died and the monkey is an idiot. (That last part was my own, sorry Dave.)

So when I think about the Church on the issue of gays both in the congregation and in the community, some people can be a big monkey trying to help their pet fish and just makes things worse.

Ex-gay programs, exorcisms, reparative therapy, ex-communication from church or being disowned from the family.

The Church has left in its wake people like me who cry on the way to their precious "church services" or on the way home or in the shower or any where else where we feel completely alone.

But we are no one's pet and none of us wants to be someone's project.

While Dave didn't specifically reference the gay thing in his message, I think it can be applied. Straight Christians can do a world of good by simply putting the halo on the shelf, getting in the water, and experiencing empathy for what it's like to be gay - both in the congregation and in the community. In Dave's message, he talked about how this will require people to be in painful adaptation - the notion that it is going to be absolutely uncomfortable, will require a commitment to staying in the water (in relationship), and operating with the truth that Jesus is already present and that it's okay to step aside and just watch.

There's only room for One Savior in this Church.

So let's not mess up what Jesus is doing by throwing ourselves in before assessing how Jesus wants to use us productively.

On the flip side to this whole message is that I feel like God was telling me that not only am I the fish but that God was leading me to be of help to the monkey. It's not about the monkey being productively helpful to the poor fish. It's about the monkey being humble enough to realize that he could possibly use some help from the fish.

But how do you tell a fish that he can help the same monkey that tried to drown him with oxygen in the first place?

I guess that's where I find myself at right now.

I believe that I am a child of God, a member of His Church, who is not only valued and loved but is also useful and qualified for serving in His Kingdom. Am I willing to take the same humble approach of not simply trying to save the Church from its arrogant ways as if I'm some sort of twisted savior, but instead am I willing to build relationship with other straight Christians to actually appreciate their well-intentioned hearts and to earn the kind of trust in these relationships that grants me the privilege of speaking into a person's life?

It's the same approach that I would want from straight Christians to gay people. It seems only fair and reasonable that we would each share a stance of common humility.

Gosh, I can see the transforming power of reconciliation through relationships that God can do in healing His own Church - answering the prayers from both "sides". And what a testimony it could be to the world to show that even the Church can learn to forgive itself.

That kind of credibility would go a long way towards us being seen and even welcomed again as ambassadors of reconciliation.

[Be sure to check out Two World Collision Collaborative Christian Community for both gay and straight Journey Christians.]

Stories that Build Bridges and Relationships

This past Saturday night was the first time I brought some of my gay and straight friends together for an intentional time of informal worship, sharing of stories, and (of course) potluck. The idea was to provide a context where I could bring together some of the relationships I've been developing in different circles and safely introduce them to each other for the purpose of getting to know one another better.

So we packed in 25 people into my little apartment, hung out and had our fill of potluck dinner and goodies. Then we had three people (lesbian, straight, gay) share their stories with the group . . . .

For each person that shared, the group had an opportunity to ask questions of the person for the purpose of getting to know that person better. Then as a community, we verbally honored the person by expressing our love, acceptance, and affirmation for him or her. Then we all prayed for that person before hearing the story of the next person.

It was a really awesome time! Bianca, Polin, and Shawn shared their stories and we had a wonderful opportunity of getting to know their hearts, passions, journeys, and stories. The really awesome thing was that the focus wasn't on sexuality. It was discussed in the context of a person's story, but the main focus was always on our growing relationship with Christ and how we are living a lifestyle of worship and community.

As we concluded, we were encouraged to continue connecting with one another by being intentional about nurturing healthy relationships with God, people of the same gender, other genders and also healthy romantic relationships.

My goal for hosting this evening was to elevate the conversation beyond the gay-straight issue and to help build bridges through genuine relationships. It is my belief that through relationships we can shatter paradigms and stereotypes. I take an organic approach to mostly everything so I wasn't planning on making this an "event" or "program" with a "name". I prefer to allow relationships the freedom to drive what we do next. So afterwards, several people talked about doing similar evenings like these in their own homes and inviting their different circles of friends. This is great because I encouraged people NOT to depend on me to keep doing this but rather to own the vision themselves. So next time, it'll be in someone else's home and we'll have different people sharing their stories.

I've got some of the after-pics in the filmloop section at the top of the right column of this blog. Check them out! I didn't want to violate the atmosphere of what we were trying to do by trying to document it with photos. So there aren't any photos during our time of sharing stories, but there are pics of some of the GCN'ers that hung around afterwards. =)

An Anthem For The Outcasts

[Note: Scroll down to hear "The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance and to read the lyrics.]

I used to think that participation in church culture was so vital to my spiritual growth. Instead, I realized that, eventually, it hindered it. As I dodge some of the stones that have already been propelled in my direction, let me also say that my use of 'church culture' refers to the religious routines and structures that attempt to govern what my worship, connection and interaction with God should look like.

I know I see the world so much differently now. Not just the world, but I see life and Church and purpose and connection so much more differently as compared to just a few years ago. It's not that I've left the foundation for my faith - something I imagine my critics and old friends would accuse me of. Rather, I think that the foundation of my faith, which is set in Christ, has enabled me to grow forward to experience His Deity in my life more profoundly.

In so many ways I feel like the Church's outcast. I'm one of them. I'm gay. I'm one of those organic faith people. I'm one of those feeling-driven Christians who has less faith because I don't "go to church" (or even "the same church") every Sunday. My discipleship of Jesus is dirty. It's ugly. It's messy. It's not perfect. I fall short so much and in so many ways. Church culture would either condemn me for this or pretend I wasn't there (or even pretend I didn't struggle). Its version of discipleship painted a picture of righteous acts - reading the Bible, maintaining quiet times of prayer, attending church services, participating in weekly 'small group', listening solely to Christian music, avoiding alcohol and holding my tongue from profanity.

But to me, church culture is a petrie dish. I looked up and saw Jesus exiting the fish bowl and I followed Him out to where real people were. He was with people who were dirty and ugly and messy and imperfect and I realized that I had more in common with them than I did with my evangelical brethren . . . .

I know it sounds utterly bitter - perhaps incredibly blasphemous. I don't regret being a part of church culture for 13 years because when I remove the shell casing of it, I acknowledge that my foundation for my faith was forming. I was learning how to listen and talk to Jesus. I was learning how to study His Word. I was practicing how to follow His Way and to make decisions that pleased my Lord. Underneath the church culture, I was learning Kingdom values and it is a part of me.

Now, I'm simply trying to live it out in the real world. I don't miss the parts of church culture that tries to manufacture relationships and squeaky clean boast-worthy discipleship. I can function without that culture because I still value the Word of God, corporate and personal worship, generosity, service, community, prayer, fellowship, and the pursuit of holiness. All I want to do is explore how I can integrate Kingdom values into my lifestyle - even if, especially if - it gets dirty and ugly and messy.

The journey I'm on still leads to God. I am still seeing Jesus out here. I'd love for the Church to leave the confines of its walls and join me out here. Over the past week, I've had more meaningful conversations and spiritually edifying discussions with friends at gay bars, coffee shops, parks, at work and on the phone than I have had in two months of attending 90 minute Sunday services.

I am still a part of the Church and I am being the Church with fellow disciples both in and out of the Sunday service. We ought to raise the bar for discipleship and lower the bar that governs what Church is supposed to look like.

So where does that leave me now? I try to live an organic lifestyle of faith, discipleship and worship. I can function as a disciple both in and out of church culture because I am part of the Church - I don't simply go to it. My early training in church culture helped me along. In latter years, my detoxing from church culture allowed me to seek Christ more fully. And now that i'm no longer co-dependent on church culture, I don't have to detox from it any longer either. I can be a disciple any where - even in the structures of Christendom. As I trudge along on my own journey, I can accept that my discipleship isn't perfect. It's not that my goal is to be imperfect. Rather, I understand that I begin the journey imperfect but I have a direction of which I walk towards God. And so He shapes me.

I'm okay with that.

Music has been carrying me through this journey lately. Certain songs in particular, many of which I've shared with you here, have affected me because they speak of life and death and pain and joy and triumph and heartache and regret - emotions I understand.

Music is a subjective art. Anyone can hear the melodies and read the lyrics and interpret them in their own way based on what it brings up for them. I don't know what My Chemical Romance intended when they wrote "The Black Parade" but after recently discovering them (and the song) on the radio, I've dubbed it another one of my new favorite songs and I have my own interpretation of it. I realize that my interpretation may not look anything like the band's actual video of the song, but then again, I can own the song because of what I see when I hear it.

For me, the Black Parade is the gathering of outcasts and underdogs who refuse to get caught up in the craziness of the world that hates them. We are the non-conformists. Both the church culture and the gay culture leaves a wreckage and the casualties mount too high. We don't fit in either of their parades. For those of us who are disciples, we claim independence from the parts of church culture that tries to define the quality of our spirituality and judges us without knowing our hearts. For those of us who are gay, we claim independence from the parts of gay culture that tries to define us by our sexuality and illustrates an example of promiscuity. We proclaim the freedom to choose a different picture of our future and our lifestyles - and this is the journey of our parade. I see myself in this parade - taught by my Father to value the outcasts and to encourage others to do the same. Those values are tested in the world and the challenge is made to overcome personal demons and dream stealers - those who break, beat, and damn us. The legacy left behind after us is the Black Parade that travels the "narrow road" and continues on.

Hear the song for yourself below, read the lyrics underneath it, and see how you relate to "The Black Parade":



"The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance

When I was
a young boy,
my Father took me into the city
to see a marching band.

He said "Son when
you grow up
would you be
the savior of the broken,
the beaten, and the damned?"

He said "Will you
defeat them,
your demons
and all the non-believers,
the plans that they have made?

Because one day
I'll leave you
a phantom
to lead you in the summer,
to join the black parade."

When I was
a young boy,
my Father took me into the city
to see a marching band.
He said "Son when
you grow up
will you be
the savior of the broken,
the beaten, and the damned?"

Sometimes I get the feeling
she's watching over me.
And other times I feel like I should go.

When through it all,
the rise and fall,
the bodies' in the streets,
and when you're gone we want you all to know.

We'll Carry on,
We'll Carry on,
and though you say you don't believe me
Your memory will carry on,
we'll carry on,
until my heart I can't contain it,
the anthem wont explain it.

A world that sends you reeling
from decimated dreams.
Your misery and hate will kill us all.
So paint it black and take it back,
lets shout it loud and clear.
Defiant to the end we hear the call

to carry on.
We'll carry on,
and though your dead and gone believe me
Your memory will
carry on.
we'll carry on
and though you're broken and defeated,
your weary widow marches...

...on and on we carry through the fears.
ooh oh ohhhh

Disappointed faces of your peers.
ooh oh ohhhh

take a look at me,
'cause I could not care at all---

Do or die,
you'll never make me.
Because the world,
will never take my heart.
You can try,
you'll never break me.
You want it all, you wanna play this part.

Won't explain, or say I'm sorry.
Im not ashamed, I'm gonna show my scar.
You're the chair, for all the broken.
Lose it here, because it's only.

I'm just a man, I'm not a hero.
Just a boy, i wanna sing this song.
Just a man, I'm not a hero.
I! - don't! - care!.

We'll carry on.
We'll carry on,
and though your dead and gone believe me
Your memory will
carry on.
We'll carry on,
and though you're broken and defeated,
your weary widow marches on!---

Do or die, you'll never make me
Because the world, will never take my heart.
And though you try, you'll never break me.
You want it all, you wanna play this part.

Do or die you'll never make me
Because the world will never take my heart.
You can try, you'll never break me.
You want it all you wanna play this part.

Open Door's Harvest Conference

Yesterday I taught my first formal workshop at Open Door Ministries' Harvest Conference. It was a single day long conference hosted by the local church that I am a part of here in Long Beach. It was a privilege to have been asked and I'm thankful to Pastor Dan for allowing me to share with others about my approach to the Great Commission and my paradigm of the Church.

The workshop was called "Relational Evangelism: Living Out The Great Commission As A Lifestyle". In a nutshell, I talked about how Jesus called us to a new WAY – to live a lifestyle of faith that expresses love for God, love for others, and to inspire others to do the same while living in community. As a Church, we have got to stop focussing on conversions as if that's our objective, and instead we need to begin a genuine and sincere process of relationship with people that leads to discipleship.

What does that look like?

I'm going to be starting what I call a "Lifestyle Group" (as opposed to a home group or a Bible study) where we will explore this. In the workshop, I introduced "5 Organic Principles to Expanding Your 'Oikos' " which I extracted from my experience knowing Neil Cole (and others) over the past four years. Neil is the Executive Director of Church Multiplication Associates, Founder of Awakening Chapels, and author of "Organic Church: Growing Faith Where Life Happens".

I thought i'd share with you the notes I handed out for my workshop. Of course, you miss out on the conversation and discussion that we had during the actual workshop, but maybe you'll find the outline helpful. If you like, have your own conversation and discussion about some of these things! Or you can email me if you'd like to know more about any of it. Anyway, here's a link where you can download it (it's a PDF file):

http://www.catalystlb.org/workshop_notes_relational_evangelism.pdf

Insomnia, the Crazy Week, the Swollen Ankle, and that Video

[Note: Scroll down to see the YouTube video of Pink & the Indigo Girls performing "Dear Mr. President".]

This post is just a quickie to fill you in on what's been going on with me this past week. For starters, i've had insomnia every night for the past five or six days. I'm finding myself laying up in bed unable to fall asleep as tons of thoughts race through my mind. You ever have those nights where your thoughts keep you up? I am typically falling asleep around 2:30 a.m. and I'm also finding that i'm naturally waking up every night at about 6 a.m. I seriously need a full night's sleep! I think it's a combination of all the things that are going on right now (plus my bed sucks) . . . .

Last Wednesday night, I had the honor of sharing at Open Door Ministries' (Long Beach) mid-week service/fellowship/study. I had half an hour and I spoke about many of the same things that I've written about in the past regarding my 'Church' paradigm and relational communities (see section in the column on the right). I also talked about transitions that the Church is experiencing right now and how the Church of today ought to be preparing for the Church of the next 20-30 years. I think it was an awesome time and I was honored to have been asked to share! =)

Last Thursday night, I went to the men's discussion group that I go to at the gay and lesbian center here in Long Beach. It was awesome because it was a very diverse group in terms of ethnicity and age. There's always interesting insight from the great mix of guys.

Last week, I've been working on the very lengthy federal application to get the 501(c)(3) non profit status for Catalyst. I'm about half way done. I really want to do this well because typically 95% of non-profits have their application sent to an IRS reviewer because they messed something up (mostly because they were not specific enough about their programs). The approval doesn't come for about a year and a half. But for those that do everything right and are very specific, these few can get their approval in about a month. Guess which group I'm trying to be in . . . yep, the few that get their approval letter right away because I found out that I can't apply for the Wells Fargo grant (who by the way are extremely GLBTQ friendly) until I have this letter from the IRS. I may be getting a part time job while I do all this because I may not be able to fundraise for Catalyst as quickly as I need to. A friend of mine has been working on a header graphic image for the Catalyst web site. It's coming along. Once it's done, i'll let you know the web address! =)

A friend of mine from the San Francisco Bay area came down to visit for the weekend. A bunch of GCNers got together for a picnic at Griffith Park in the Los Angeles area today so that's why he was around. I took him roller blading on Friday from Bolsa Chica state beach to Huntington Beach. On the way, I fell on some asphault and had a minor scratch. It's funny because when he looked back to see me fall, he also fell. I fell because i was trying to avoid a patch of holes in the sidewalk. I realized, afterwards, that I probably would not have fallen if I just allowed myself to roll through the rough path instead of trying to go the easy way (which proved not so easy in the end anyway). There's an awesome life/spiritual lesson in there if you look for it - how many times do we end up falling because we were trying to take the easy way out? (I'm sure there's someone out there that thinks me accepting myself as gay is just me taking the easy route. On the contrary, there's nothing easy about this route i've taken for my life!) Later, we went to dinner, then we connected with a few other GCNers that evening and we all went to a coffee shop in LA, then went to a few hot spots in West Hollywood. Today (Sunday) was the picnic and we played volleyball. I sprained my ankle, put ice on it for about an hour, then played more volleyball. Yep, not so good on my ankle so right now it has swollen up pretty fat. Ouch! But the volleyball was super fun!

On Saturday morning, i got the last of my things out of the old apartment (much thanks to my friend Joon (he's commented on this blog in the past) and his partner Alan for all their help!). I went back to vacuum, do some cursory cleaning (because i figured they'd have someone else clean more thoroughly), and turn in the keys and when I was done, it was weird because I had one of those moments of standing at the front door with my hand on the knob ready to lock up while slowly taking a long last look across the room as memories of times there flooded my mind, then said my good bye and locked the door to that old apartment for the last time. Another transition was completed! Afterwards, I drove up to see my family for the afternoon because we were having birthday celebrations for both my brother and sister. On the freeway, I just felt so overwhelmed that I wanted to cry. I didn't though. It's not that i'm sad, it's just that so much is going on and it was one of those days that I just really really really needed a hug. It was good reconnecting with my family. My brother and his wife are having a wedding ceremony and reception next January for the family because initially they got married overseas and we missed it. I noticed that my brother made a gay joke with his friend. Interesting. I think its just still easier if he simply doesn't think about me being gay. When I got home that evening, I had tons of boxes to unpack from the morning move. I was super exhausted and even still had insomnia that night. The next day, I ended up waking up early to help set up for the picnic which lasted all day.

Tonight, I put more ice on my ankle and tried to relax. It was pretty chill here because my buddy had friends over and I talked with them for a bit. My buddy has been brushing up on his guitar playing and so when everyone left, he played an awesome song for me that a friend of his wrote when they both were in the peace corps. As I listened to him play, it reminded me of a song that I first heard over at Drew's video blog. The song is by Pink and the Indigo girls (who my buddy loves!) and it's called Dear Mr. President. I'm including the video below so be sure to check it out. When I first saw the video, I felt something. My point in putting it in this post is not to make a political statement but rather to (hopefully) have you feel something.

I'm tired and I've got a ton of things to do tomorrow. Hopefully my ankle swelling goes down. I'm off to bed and hopefully sleep! Be sure to check out the video below.

What do you feel when you hear this song?

Community of Profound Loneliness

The local church can sometimes be one of the loneliest places on Earth for me.

Churchianity tells us that people are lonely in this world because they are without Christ in their lives. If they would only accept Christ, then they would never be lonely again. So then why is it that for 13 years of being a Bible-believing Jesus-loving church-attending Christian, I always felt the loneliest during the post Sunday service "how-are-you-it's-good-to-see-you-how-was-your-week" coffee and donuts fellowship time?

Perhaps it was the simple surface salutations and greetings. Perhaps it was the lack of connection from these people during the other six days of the week. Perhaps it was the internal heart ache of seeing couples holding hands and being able to share physical affection while I sat alone during the service for yet another week - every "single" week. Perhaps it was the frustration of never feeling completely known by anyone and being tired of wearing the fake "i'm-fine-it's-good-to-see-you-too-how-are-you" plastic smiles. Perhaps it was because I hated the fact that I could get away with that kind of smile and lack of depth because I knew that no one was going to probe deeper.

Before I started this journey of mine last year, I lost count of the number of times I drove home crying after a church service . . . .

Many would say that I created this kind of church experience for myself. I was the one who failed to reach out. I was the one who didn't take the initiative in participating in the "fellowship time". I was the one who was so self-focussed on my own needs that I missed the opportunity of serving other people's needs. I was the one who chose to stay disconnected despite other people's attempts to "connect" with me.

That's what they'd often say when ever I tried to verbalize the disconnectedness that I was feeling within the church. It's my fault, they'd say.

Do I really need to hear that? This tough-love "stop being a victim" approach to addressing my cries for help by simply redirecting my frustrations - away from them and resting on me. It's my fault, not theirs.

They'd say that it's my fault that I'm lonely but they are unwilling to consider that they could possibly make some adjustments as well in order to contribute to a better community.

I can acknowledge that there are things that I can do to stimulate my own sense of community within the church. But the thing that always pissed me off about how some of these people responded was that they never tried to understand why I was feeling so lonely. They never tried to grieve with me. It was the "shake it off, it doesn't hurt that bad" kind of response.

Sure there are things that I could have done to not live in the loneliness, but it was their lack of compassion for my loneliness that fueled my loneliness. Bitterness, even. So then why would I want to share my heart and open up to these kinds of people? They don't get to hear the real reasons why I am so sad.

They don't get to hear that it's often difficult to be in a crowded room being burdened with the thought, "i'm the only one". Is there anyone else in this church that is like me? What will they think of me if they knew who I really am? Why does it seem like everyone else is coupled? Why am I not allowed to embrace someone that I care about? Why doesn't this seem fair? Why are my affections never reciprocated? Why can't I talk about any of this with any of them? Why doesn't anyone want to understand me?

Why won't anyone walk with me?

There is a community within the Church that simply wants to be understood - to be known. We are a community of profound loneliness. All we want is the connection promised to us when we were told that Christ would comfort us.

I am thankful to God that my journey over these past several months has released me from much of this kind of disconnectedness and loneliness. Even though I do not feel this kind of profound loneliness anymore, some of those feelings still linger - it's still tough sometimes to sit through a service as a single person amidst a crowd of people. But the Lord taught me alot about connection during these times of disconnection.

#1: I'm not alone.

Even when it seemed like no one else understood me, no one else was walking with me, no one else stood up for me - there was always Jesus. The One thing that I learned that I could truly count on - Christ, my Friend. It was during the lonely car rides home after church service that I knew that He was there with me. It was in the dark room laying on my bed crying at 3 a.m. that I knew that He was there with me. It was in the shower when I ran the hot water over my head with both my hands covering my face paralyzed to move by the thoughts racing through my mind that I knew that He was there with me. It was on the university campus promenade walking alone with my head down as fellow students passed by laughing with their friends and me wondering if my friends would ever accept me for who I was that I knew that He was there with me. It was at work sitting at my desk listening to co-workers telling tales of times with their girlfriends and me longing to have such stories that I knew that He was there with me. In the midst of loneliness, there He was.

#2: There are blessings around me.

Sometimes, I'd focus my attention so much on receiving the affection of a single person that i'd miss out on the blessing of appreciating the many other people in my life that actually were present. These were the people that God placed in my life - people for me to connect with. I would sometimes fixate on the one while ignoring the many. As a result, I would connect with no one. It's at these moments when He showed me that I had set up an idol in my heart. The relational idolatry was bound to make me feel perpetually lonely and disconnected because it was an illusion that I was seeking - a fantasy of perfect connection with what is in reality imperfect. I had many friends around me that I could have invested the time to develop depth so that I could be known if only I would acknowledge the fact that they are indeed there.

#3: Be the kind of friend that I want.

I can't change other people. I can't make them be what I want them to be. Doing this is simply manipulation. I realized that I had to be willing to take the initiative of being the friend to others that I wanted for myself. I realized that I don't simply find "true friends" as if stumbling upon them by accident. We develop "true friends" by investing the time to create history of memories and trust.

I'm learning to apply these three things that Christ taught me during my loneliness so that I can experience freedom from it. I discovered choice. I didn't want to be lonely anymore. He showed me that I didn't have to be.

Now, eight months or so into this new season of my life long journey, I don't feel as profoundly lonely as I used to. I have friends that I feel safe enough to be real with. I have friends who are still friends even after knowing about me. I have family that support me. I am now trying to be more intentional about developing depth in my relationships. I'm extending the invitations for lunch or to go out for coffee or tea. I'm extending the invitations to join me for a movie. I'm extending the invitations for others to tell me more about themselves. I'm extending the invitations for small dinner parties where friends from different circles can come together and make new friends.

Sometimes I think how ironic it is that God uses me to be a bridge builder within His Church and in the community. It's not like i've perfected those three lessons - i'm still trying to figure it all out, trying to live it out when i'm lonely (and I am still lonely many times). I figure I've got to be the wrong man for this type of work because what do I know about connection with people?

I suppose it's His sense of humor.

Leave it to God to use a socially awkward introverted gay lonely man to stimulate connection and unity in His Kingdom.

Letter to Advisory Board

Since I recently decided to step away from my public ministry, my ministry partner and I will be meeting with our organization's advisory board to inform them of what's going on. For many of them, it will be their first time knowing about my journey. For others, it will be their first time knowing that i'm gay.

This meeting will take place in roughly six hours from now.

I've had a difficult time this week (emotionally) with the decision. I'm needing time to grieve. On the flip side, God is birthing new vision in me for this other non-profit organization that I'll be establishing. It's been a roller coaster week and I was having a challenging time preparing for this meeting with the advisory board. These are people I love and care about and I fear their rejection. Below is the letter that I have prepared for them . . . .

*****************************************
[Note: the name of the organization and the name of my ministry partner have been omitted. Yes, some parts of this letter sound familiar - i extracted them from recent posts.]

Dear [Organization Name] Advisory Team of Long Beach,

God birthed a vision in [my ministry partner] and I that led to the establishment of [this public ministry]. He divinely teamed us together with complementary strengths, weaknesses, gifts, and talents equipping us to facilitate the vision of seeing Long Beach transformed as God’s people live out the Great Commission. Together, we have strived to function as a bridge building organization hoping to catalyze the Church in Long Beach towards personal and community transformation. We have invested almost four years into building relationships throughout the city for this purpose.

During this same time period, I have wrestled with the issue of my same sex attractions. I remember having these attractions as early as 8 years old. I accepted Christ as my Savior 13 ½ years ago when I was 16 years old. It’s been a difficult experience for me to live in a world with an obvious public stigma towards gay people. Even more difficult was functioning within the Church that often ignored the issue unless it was condemning it. I learned that the Church was not safe for people like me.

In 2004, [this public ministry] was connecting with numerous prayer intercessors throughout the city. I was a part of several city-wide prayer meetings that often and typically prayed against the homosexual population in Long Beach and the enemy’s “stronghold” over this city in regards to their rebellion. I consistently felt convicted by the Lord regarding two things:

“Why am I praying against a people that I don’t even know?” and “Why am I praying against them when I am one of them?”

I felt that I could not speak these questions publicly to the prayer intercessors because their hostility towards the GLBT community was evident in their prayers against them and I was afraid. These questions led to further questions about the issue, some of which are:

“Why do I believe the things I do about homosexuality? Is it because I really believe it to be true or is it because it was simply the only thing that I was taught?”

In 2005, I began a new kind of wrestling regarding the issue of homosexuality, faith, God, and the Church. I refer to this as “my journey” and started an online journal (also known as a “blog”) called Two World Collision to chronicle my process. This journey of mine began with the desire to “own” what I believe about it being a sin so that I could confidently speak against it. I didn’t want to simply repeat the ideas of others of the same perspective. So on my journey, I chose to take a step back and to take a neutral stance about the issue. I wanted to be informed regarding all perspectives so that I could honestly discern for myself through the Lord’s guidance what I believed.

This journey included reading books and essays, hearing testimonies, examining Scripture, prayer, and interviewing people from three distinct perspectives: Side A, presenting the perspective that one can be both gay and Christian in a committed and monogamous context; Side B, presenting the perspective that one can be both gay and Christian but should remain celibate; and Side X (a phrase I coined referring to ex-gay ministries), presenting the perspective that one cannot be both gay and Christian and that transformation of sexuality was necessary.

I entered this journey with [my ministry partner's] full knowledge and support. As I learned about the different perspectives, I was able to process much of my thoughts with him. He walked this journey with me. In this process, I discovered that I no longer held a Side X view regarding this issue. My original intention for this journey was to be able to confidently speak against it but instead I have found resolution in terms of my faith and sexuality. I sincerely believe that the Lord has walked with me on this journey as well and that the Lord has led me to my current Side A perspective.

Early on in my journey, it was still pretty safe to be part of [this organization] because I was simply "wrestling" with the issue. But now that I have found resolution in myself being both gay and Christian and have even started "dating", it complicates things a bit for the organization. The purpose of our organization is to be a bridge builder. One of our hopes is to catalyze the Church in the "hot zone" - to stimulate the Church to dialogue about the issue of faith and homosexuality and answering the question . . . .

What do we do with those gay Christians?

In order to do this, [the organization] needs to be neutral and it needs to be strategic in the timing of these dialogues. My presence in the organization hinders this because of the Church's historical nature of responding with irrational hostility. I think that about 75% of our relational networks - the relationships that we've invested in building for almost four years - would disassociate from us simply knowing about me and my "lifestyle".

Even though he does not have a Side A view like I do, [my ministry partner] is fully willing to go down this road with me. He'd be ready to "take the hits" in his relationships and in [the organization]. We trust each other and he honors me in his willingness to stand by my side through the fallout when people begin to discover that I'm openly gay and calling myself Christian.

He's willing. I'm not.

I'm not willing to have the organization take the hits of controversy. I'm not willing to trade the organization's ability to continue its work towards unity and mission in exchange for my own sense of personal justice. I'm not willing to see [my ministry partner] have his relationships with the pastors of the city sacrificed. The work of the Kingdom trumps my own personal justice. The dialogue within the Church about the issue of gay Christians is more important than what people think of me. And so, for the sake of the Kingdom and for [the organization], I will be the one to "take the hit". I've decided to step away from the organization so that it can continue its purpose without the controversy of me. The dialogue can happen more effectively if I'm not a part of the organization.

While this is an emotionally difficult decision for me, both [my ministry partner] and I are in agreement that this is the best thing to do. I have a peace about it. From our perspective, it's not a "split". He will continue the work we started together in calling the Church to Kingdom values (including unity) while I will establish another non-profit organization. God is birthing a fresh vision in me for this new organization that will be moving to "catalyze a culture of trust, unity, and life in the GLBT community and the city". Our intention is to preserve an attitude of partnership among the two organizations so that we can work together to bring the GLBT faith community and the mainstream Church together in healthy dialogue.

The reality is that there are people like me – gay and Christian – within our local churches throughout the city. Many of us are Side A, some are Side B, some are Side X, and some are still wrestling through it. However, we have all placed our faith in Jesus Christ and have received His salvation by grace alone. We worship the Lord, serve our neighbors, and exhibit the fruits of the Spirit.

My challenge to this Advisory Team, to [the organization], and to the Church in Long Beach is to call the question:

What do we do with those gay Christians? As the Church, do we acknowledge them as being included with the Family of God or do we disown them from the Family of God and insist in their reorientation?

I encourage you to bring this issue into the “hot zone” – that place of dialogue where homosexuality is no longer the unspeakable topic. I encourage you to stand firmly beside those with whom you are in relationship with. I encourage you to model for the rest of the Church what it looks like to embrace each other despite theological differences of interpretation.

It has been a privilege serving Him along side you.

Blessings,
Eric
**************************************

Let's all hope the meeting goes well . . . .

For the Kingdom and For the Baby

We all want to protect our children. At least, I would hope we all do. Our society values the life and safety of kids. If we don't have kids of our own, we are protective of our nieces and nephews. If none of those, then at least the grade school kids playing out during recess must be kept safe. Either way, we guard over our children.

I don't have any kids - yet! I'd sure like to have kids one day. In my immediate family, I've got five nieces and one nephew. I love 'em all! But I have to admit that, as a man, I do not fully comprehend the experience of being pregnant, giving birth, and raising my own children. I may not fully know 'maternal instinct', but I do have an 'uncle's instinct' and I'd die to protect the family's young ones.

However, I do have a kind of 'maternal instinct'. I do know what it's like to be pregnant with an idea, to see that idea birthed into a faith-based non-profit organization (the public ministry that i've referred to in the past), and nurtured it to see it grow and multiply. I know what it's like to clean up after it and change its diapers. I know what it's like to be proud of it. I know what it's like go broke to support it. I know what it's like to lose sleep over it. I know what it's like to love it. I know what it's like to feel like it's a gift from God. I know what it's like to want to protect it with my life when it's threatened. And protecting it is precisely what I was trying to do this week . . . .

My ministry partner and I have been friends for about eight to nine years. We've grown to appreciate a common heart and paradigm for the Church and His Kingdom in the city. About four years ago (this coming May), God began to give us a vision for ministry. We both continued to dialogue about these things that He was placing on both our hearts - God's heart for unity but the Church's current state of division; God's heart for mission but the Church's growing ineffectiveness and irrelevance in the city culture.

Who are we that God would do anything through us?

We were available. For Him. And it's an honor to serve Him in any way. So we began to live out these Kingdom values of unity and mission by building relationships throughout the city with church leaders, business leaders, community leaders, civic leaders, and city officials. And in these relationships, God granted us their favor. Our mission was to catalyze God's people to live out their faith.

God birthed this non-profit organization through my ministry partner and I. We were the co-founders and we treated it like it was our "baby". We are protective of the work we do because so much of it is relationally based. We're not about programs and numbers - rather, our measures of success are increased levels of trust within relationships. If trust can be established through relationship, then partnership can take place and people can begin to function in unity.

One of the reasons why our organization is so dear to my heart is because of what it symbolizes for me and my journey - the fact that God can use a guy like me (gay and all) to accomplish His purposes. It is truly humbling that God would do such things through us. I've made mistakes in my past but this organization symbolizes to me that I am not disqualified for His service - regardless of what the Church may think about me.

But that seemed to be the problem. The Church - at least the mainstream part of it - is primarily still Side X and would not approve of me. Personally, I have resolved that God does approve of me - and even further, qualifies me - but the mainstream Church still takes issue. Whole denominations across the country (and world) are dividing over this issue. As factions take sides, the Church is warring with itself and we're seeing the wreckage of these battles in our families, our communities, our churches, and our cities.

Early on in my journey, it was still pretty safe to be part of our organization because I was simply "wrestling" with the issue. But now that I have found resolution in myself being both gay and Christian and have even started "dating", it complicates things a bit for the organization. The purpose of our organization is to be a bridge builder. One of our hopes is to catalyze the Church in the "hot zone" - to stimulate the Church to dialogue about the issue of faith and homosexuality and answering the question . . . .

What do we do with those gay Christians?

In order to do this, our organization needs to be neutral and it needs to be strategic in the timing of these dialogues. My presence in the organization hinders this because of the Church's historical nature of responding with irrational hostility. About 75% of our relational networks - the relationships that we've invested in building for over three years - would disassociate from us simply knowing about me and my "lifestyle". Right or wrong, it's true.

My ministry partner is fully willing to go down this road with me. He'd be ready to "take the hits" in his relationships and in our organization. We trust each other and he honors me in his willingness to stand by my side through the fallout when people begin to discover that I'm openly gay (Side A).

He's willing. I'm not.

I'm not willing to have the organization take the hits of controversy. I'm not willing to trade my own sense of justice for myself in exchange for the organization's ability to continue its work towards unity and mission. I'm not willing to see my ministry partner have his relationships with the pastors of the city sacrificed.

The work of the Kingdom trumps my own personal justice. The dialogue within the Church about the issue of gay Christians is more important than what people think of me. And so, for the sake of the Kingdom and for our organization (our "baby"), I will be the one to "take the hit". I've decided to step away from the organization so that it can continue it's purpose without the controversy of me. The dialogue can happen more effectively if I'm not a part of the organization. It's a no-brainer.

How do I feel about all this? You can imagine. I was remembering an old post from way in the beginning . . . "I'm No Superman" - and I've cried this week thinking about the song. I've grieved this week thinking about the reality of not being able to directly be a part of our organization - this thing we did together.

Both my ministry partner and I are in mutual agreement that this is the best decision. I have a peace about it. We are not parting ways like Paul and Barnabas (Acts 15:36-41). Rather, he is continuing the work we started with the mainstream faith community while I continue the work with the GLBT faith community. We will continue to interact as we always have - we're friends! - and when the time is strategically right with the relationships we've both developed in each of our spheres, we'll bring them together for that dialogue - the mainstream Church with the GLBT Church - reintroducing siblings who were disowning each other. I believe that Christ will return again - and that He's coming for a Bride, not a harem. Helping the whole Church come together is what this is all about.

What does this mean for me practically? I won't have a job. I'll transition out until the end of March so that others can take over my responsibilities.

What's next? The formal establishment of Two World Collision.

It's a step of faith. But then again, this whole journey has been a walk of faith. Stay tuned!

Sankofa (Part Four)

**Sankofa is a four part series looking backward so that I can move forward. Be sure to read Sankofa (Part Three) to see how I've been journeying through what it looks like to be both gay and Christian. Now, we've come to the final part of this series - examining the direction that I've been sensing the Lord leading me . . . .

Years ago, I used to teach in Bible studies that God would use a person's greatest weaknesses to reveal His strengths through that person. I believed that. Sort of. That is, I believed that it was true for those people in the Bible studies I was teaching - but not for me. Definitely not for me. My weaknesses? That's practically . . . . unbelieveable. There's no way!

My greatest weaknesses were my gayness and my disconnectedness. Keep in mind, this was years ago - back when I was way way Side X. For God to use my weaknesses, they would have to be made known. And with me being in the dark and lonely closet, that was not going to happen!

I've always known God to have an odd sense of humor. The way He pin points the things I'm most afraid of and then uses me to minister on His behalf in that area. I'd almost say it's kind of cruel if I didn't know through first hand experience how much He really loves me and would never do something like that as a mere joke for the heavenlies. Nah . . . . I know better than that.

So now, I'm seeing Him do it again. He's using the fact that I'm gay and that I've always felt disconnected from people, family, the Church, the world - leading me to a place of personal resolution and connection so that I can help others going through a similar journey - leading me to a place of being a herald for God's people to live a lifestyle of faith . . . .

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

It's a battle, isn't it? This struggle for justice - equality for GLBT individuals in our society and in our Church. Differences in theologies mixed with social stigma keeps people like us marginalized, even silenced. All of our efforts to live a public life are labeled an "agenda". We have parades and TV shows and 'out' celebrities to pave the way for dialogue - hoping that, slowly but surely, society and culture will shift and change to eventually and inevitably accept us.

Is it enough? What will it take for us to see change? What do we need to do to stimulate the unstoppable revolution that will bear the same kind of fruit for GLBT acceptance that the Civil Rights Movement bore for ethnic minorities?

I do not want to wave a rainbow flag!

This is not the cause I signed up for! As a believer in Christ, He is my cause. My cause is to love Him more properly. My cause is to love other people more properly. My cause is to inspire others to do the same. These are our two greatest commandments and our Great Commission.

That is my agenda.

If we are going to move forward, insisting to our society and our Church that we are accepted by God through faith in Christ, then we must move beyond simply proclaiming it. We must function as if we have already been accepted by God. I agree with GCB that "we simply have to start living what we desire". As the GLBT faith community, we need to start demonstrating God-given leadership within His Church. Just like the GLBT community, the Church as a whole has also been marginalized - even silenced - to where we no longer shape our society. Rather, we are merely reacting to society. We have lost our effectiveness. We need to be salt once again - flavoring the world around us so that Christ's love is revealed. That love will shape relationships that will, in turn, shape our neighborhoods and communities. The Church needs leaders and I think that we are the ones who should step up and fill the gap.

God has fully empowered us to accomplish His will. We don't need to fight for the right to be a part of it. We already are! So we can't legally be married and be acknowledged in all states. So what? It doesn't stop us from continuing to love each other properly. So we can't legally get full insurance benefits and privileges that heterosexual married couples enjoy. So what? It doesn't stop us from continuing to support one another (and even more so, as a community). What if we entrust these "issues" to God and focussed our energies on the things in this world that God talked about constantly - the poor, the sick, and the elderly?

What if the GLBT faith community led the way of serving those in poverty, ministering to the sick, and caring for our seniors? What if we supported the ONE campaign? (I've got my bracelet! Do you?) What if we lived out our faith in such a way that our servanthood revealed our leadership rather than us waiting for the Church to acknowledge our right to be leaders? Perhaps the GLBT faith community can set a positive example for the broader GLBT community by demonstrating what genuine healthy platonic same gender friendships looked like. What if we called on our community to uphold a value of respect, love, commitment, faithfulness, and monogamy? What if we inspired people to love properly?

We need to be the ones who serve as the role models for young GLBT people newly "out" to themselves and the world. We need to be the ones to show them that they don't have to have the old typical "coming out" experience of exploring newfound freedom. We ought to introduce them to the freedom we have in Christ - to love properly, healthy, and respectfully other people of the same gender.

A couple weeks ago, a woman shared during a service that she heard a song on the radio and decided that she wanted to learn how to play it. So she took the time to learn the song, practice it, and played it for all of us. We need to do the same thing. Jesus modeled for us the Kingdom values. He showed us what it looked like to love the outcasts. He showed us what it looked like to pray to the Father for each other. He showed us what it looked like to serve those in need. He showed us what it looked like to bless those who were formerly cursed. He played an awesome song for us. Let's learn how to play it! Let's live out a lifestyle of faith that affects every person we interact with.

Over the past several weeks, I've been seeking the Lord what He wanted of me through this whole Two World Collision thing. It was clear to me that this blog was meant to be a tool to help me and you process - something that would inspire us both to a lifestyle of faith. So He's placed several other things on my heart - a ministry for serving the colliding worlds of church paradigms and sexuality.

We'll see how this all evolves. For now, I think He's given me direction - a vision - to catalyze a culture of trust and unity among the GLBT faith community and the broader Church by inspiring them to live out their faith.

What will this look like? I'm excited to see what's ahead. In the mean time, i'd like to start moving towards the following objectives:

Personal Coaching and Scholarships

I'd like to provide personal coaching for others struggling with the conflict between their faith and their sexuality. I'd like to be a part of helping these loved ones along that journey of seeking Christ personally for the answers. I don't want to be the one to necessarily give them the answers. I want to stimulate them with the right questions. Even the ones that question the old answers. I trust Jesus enough to guide them with the peace, resolution, and even answers.

I'd also like to partner with other personal coaches who will journey with these loved ones. This personal coaching can take the form of personal phone calls, emails, instant messages, or even personal visits. I'd even like to travel across cities, states, or the nation for week long coaching. Instead of them going somewhere foreign for help, I'd like to go to them - the place where they have to live this all out. I'd like to be able to give them an opportunity to talk with a person face to face about the things they are terrified to say to anyone in the Church. I'd like to allow them to ask their questions and to start their journey of exploring those questions with Christ. If it's fitting, i'd like to be able to accompany a person as they try to talk with a family member or pastor about their sexuality and faith journey - hopefully enlisting their support. I'd like to be able to give them resources (Side A, Side B, and Side X) and allow them to discern for themselves with the Lord what they believe.

I'd like to offer $250 or $500 scholarships to some of these loved ones so that they can cover the registration and travel expenses to attend gay Christian conferences that are happening around the nation. What if individuals and businesses partnered together to sponsor one of them? What if we could get grants to help fund these scholarships?

New Ministry Empowerment

I would like to empower the emerging leaders of the GLBT faith community who have been inspired by God to initiate certain ministries. I'd like to assist those who want to start up gay student ministries (GSM's) on campuses, working in partnership with gay straight alliances (GSA's). I'd like to assist those who want to start ministries in their city to help coach young GLBT teens in their "coming out" process. GCB has an awesome vision for GLBT people leading the way in helping people to find "alternative environments of safety, protection, love, and acceptance". He talks about safe houses and shelters for those escaping abusive families or partners. He talks about programs to assist GLBT youth go to college. I want to empower people who have a heart for making these kinds of things happen by helping to inspire them, resource them, equip them, and help them to connect with others who can help them develop their ministry.

I believe that we must value each other's unique call and mission for ministry. Two World Collision alone cannot sustain a revolution. We all have a dream to see these kinds of things happen. But when each of us die, the vision of what we personally saw also dies. Therefore, I want to empower others who will seek to be inspired by God for their own similar vision and who will work towards accomplishing it. In this way, the dream lives on without me as God continues to inspire people with ways of connecting with their communities. Then, i'd like to see each of these new ministries networked together in partnership - sharing each other's support, encouragement, and resources. This is what will stimulate an uncontainable revolution of GLBT people living out their faith.

GLBT Faith Leaders Retreat

I would like to provide a retreat for ministry and organization leaders of the GLBT faith community to give them a context of renewal and connection. I want to serve these leaders by helping them to get away from the busyness of their operations. I want to encourage them to rest and be ministered to. I also want to help provide a context for them to connect with other leaders for mutual support and encouragement. I know how lonely it can be to be the sole leader in a ministry. I know how frustrating it can be to not have the time to brainstorm fresh thoughts and insights because of the day to day operations of the work. I want to help these leaders inspire each other - to offer ideas, experience, questions, and prayer for each other.

Church Leaders Round Table

As I establish and nurture relationships within my city (or others), I want to bring them together for dialogue. In the past, I've defined the "hot zone" as the place where homosexuality and faith and God are no longer the "unspeakable" topic. I want to bring together pastors and leaders of mainstream churches with pastors and leaders of inclusive churches for "transformational conversations that point to reconciliation" (as Zalm describes it). I suspect that this will be a challenging pursuit, however, I entrust these relationships to the Lord for His redemption and grace.

So there it is! Sankofa. "Looking backward to move forward."

In Part One, I reflected backward to the time my parents got divorced, how I struggled through the confusion of my sexuality, and when I tried to kill myself. In Part Two, I reflected backward to when I came to faith in Christ, became a part of the "church culture" that proved itself to be unwanting, and challenged those old christendom paradigms in favor of an organic paradigm of Church that involved living out a lifestyle of faith. In Part Three, I considered the journey that the Lord has just recently brought me on - of exploring what it looks like to be both gay and Christian - and finding peace and resolution. Here in Part Four, we've looked forward to potential future ministry of being a catalyst for revolution.

Who knows what the Lord has in store? What I do know is that God has given me the privilege of serving Him, as I am - both gay and Christian - and that He qualifies, inspires and empowers me to live out my faith as a lifestyle of loving Him and loving others.

In my greatest weaknesses, He reveals His strengths through me.

Update (June 29, 2006): A lot has happened since January 25, 2006 when I wrote this post. To see an evolution of the vision I articulated in this post, see May 5th's post where I announce the Catalyst Web site and blog.

Explosions Leading To Harmony

When will the Church embrace itself fully? We are comprised of men and women, black and white and asian and hispanic and every other race, ethnicity, and nationality across the globe. We express our worship differently. We express our theologies differently. We even express our sexuality differently. However, we all have come to a point of faith in Jesus Christ - the One that connects us all by His Spirit as One Body.

In a 'church culture' where the message of unity can't seem to be lived out, I feel called to be a catalyst - someone who brings two things together to cause a reaction. Sometimes, that reaction can be explosive. Sometimes, that reaction can lead to harmony. Sometimes, the explosion blows up what shouldn't be there so that what's left is in harmony . . . .

The past several weeks have been a wrestling match for me with some within the Church about the issue of homosexuality. About a month ago, for the first time I owned the feelings that come with injustice - those feelings of being "Profoundly Offended". The interesting thing that i'm finding on this journey of mine is that as I accept myself more and more as a Christ-centered gay person, it's helping me to see how I can help others within the Church accept other Christ-centered gay believers.

Raising the issue is bound to result in hostility, animosity, or at the very least discomfort. But raising the issue does just that - it raises the issue. It gets people talking. For too long, homosexuality has been a "hot zone" topic where no one in the Church wanted to talk about it. When the topic is silenced (when we are silenced) then the assumptions, myths, and hysteria breed an unchallenged culture that justifies the casting out of the Christian lepers - those who are marginalized as those who have the sinful audacity for suggesting that one can be both gay and Christian. They say that the integrity of the truth of Scripture is being compromised and they use the Law against us.

Who is right? Who is true?

For me, I had to wrestle with this issue in order to find resolution in my being. I had to experience some explosive reactions in me so that God could lead me to a place of peace - harmony. The things I learned when I was Side X had to be challenged. They had to be challenged because the facts they presented didn't add up.

I was told that God loved me. I was told that God hated homosexuality as sin. I was told that I am a new creation. I continued to experience same sex attractions. I was told I can change. I was shown people who changed their lifestyles but not their inherent attractions. I was told that God's love was unconditional. I was shown a conditional love by the Church. I was told to value truth. I was shown a Church ready to stone a person for articulating a truth about himself. I was forced to secrecy - darkness - for my own safety. I was told that the real enemy is Satan. I was shown a Church that wasn't safe for me. I was told that God's grace is sufficient for me. I was told that I couldn't be gay if I claimed to be Christian. Apparently, grace wasn't enough. Somehow, heterosexuality was "added" to the salvation formula.

My journey is rooted in certain core truths that I know about God. These are things that I wasn't simply told by the Church, but rather things that I have experienced from God personally and confirmed in Scripture for myself. I know God to be love. His love is unselfish, patient, kind, and keeps no record of wrongs. I know God to be sacrificial. He would rather die than to see me hurt. I know God to be just. He values equality and fairness in the world, in me, in His people. I know God to be slow to anger. God's wrath towards me is tempered by His enduring love for me so much that it would be a really long time before He was really angry with me. I know God to be righteous. He calls for a standard of holiness. I know God to be sovereign. He demands obedience for He is the King of all. I know God to be my Creator. He knew my name before I was even born. I know God to be my friend, my Father. He comforts me, nurtures me, and counsels me.

This is what I know about God. This tells me what I know about myself.

The person I am was created by Him. I am known by Him. I am loved. I am called to mirror His love towards me by loving all people properly. This expression of love is to transform my very being. It doesn't transform my biology, but rather it transforms the way I love God and love others. I worship Him alone. I seek to bless my friends. I strive to love romantically as one who expresses commitment, unselfishness, patience, kindness, and keeping no record of wrongs. When I identify myself as a gay Christian, I am not claiming an identity outside of God's intent - for He created me. I claim an identity that loves God and loves others properly. I am a creature of healthy love. At least, that's the intent. It's not about the gender of whom I love, but rather it's about properly loving without the context of sin - lust, idolatry, and violence. Since I am not a perfect creature, He is constantly molding me - transforming me - so that I learn from my mistakes, my sins - so that I may not engage them again. In that process, I have the privilege of grace to spur me onward.

My God is not a condemning God. There is no compromise for this truth. There are those who say that I cannot be both gay and Christian. They attempt to use the Law against me, claiming that I am 'breaking' His Law while attaching their own interpretations of it. They call their interpretations truth. For me, I think truth is found only in God. He is truth. If we want to know Truth, then we ought to look at what we know about God - and that should be our lens for our interpretations of Scripture. I find my confidence in Christ alone and in my relationship with Him.

Thank God that He is who He is because He made who I am.

What is it that you know of God through your own personal relationship with Him and how does that define the person you are? What else have we been taught in the past that need a stick of TNT so that we can find harmony?

Sankofa (Part Two)

**Sankofa is a four part series looking backward so that I can move forward. Be sure to read Sankofa (Part One) to see early beginnings and the wonderful love affair I had with my porcelain punisher. From there, we continue to Part Two . . . .

So I survived in pain. It was utter suffering. By 5:00AM, it was done and I could safely sleep. I hadn't yet been introduced to a personal God but it was only a matter of time. Nobody knew what I had done. I was alive so it really didn't matter - I suppose. I hadn't told my family nor my best friend because, well, let's face it, I had already detached myself to the point of not wanting anyone's help. I was going to do this alone. Nobody knew what I did. Nobody would understand why. I was still alive so the only thing left was to move on with my life - alone . . . .

My mom bought a house in Riverside so we moved. By that time, all I really had was JROTC because that was the one place that, if I performed, I was acknowledged - noticed. My tantrum didn't help much so I started my 10th grade year in a new high school. The blessing in this was that my one year in Long Beach as a part of a championship team gave me the experience and the edge above my new classmates. I was placed in leadership, as a sophomore, and remained in leadership since. I naturally rose up the ranks, continuing to earn the awards and recognitions, while being placed in authority over my peers. It was at this young point in my life that I understood how lonely it is at the top. Leadership provides a different perspective - one that most teenagers never really comprehend. So I saw myself set apart from my peers. With a different perspective, I saw things differently and so I made decisions differently. I was different.

I definitely had my share of crushes. Boy, did I have crushes! My hormones were raging and my same sex attractions were denied a real life outlet because of social stigma. Fear. It was easier to hide behind success. That made the facade so much easier to maintain. But even though I crushed hard on many, many, many, many, many guys around school, I was drawn towards a female friend of mine because she was right there with me in leadership. The two of us were typically in command (of something or another) in JROTC and so we found in each other a person who could understand - the stress of responsibility and the drive to achieve. So we started to date and we became a couple. I tried. I really tried to make it work. We lasted about three months, broke up, got back together again, lasted for another two months or so, then broke up mutually agreeing that we were better off as friends. It was true. We're great friends - even now - we just aren't the boyfriend-girlfriend type. Funny thing - she ended up being the girlfriend-girlfriend type while, as you know, I'm the boyfriend-boyfriend type. Go figure.

High school was a lonely time because of the leadership dynamic, the family dynamic, and the whole gay thing. During the Summer after my junior year in high school, at 16 years old, my cousin invited me to a Christian church. The first thing that I noticed was the music. Drums! Guitar! Keyboard! Microphones! What the - ? This is church? This is way different from mass. I began to be introduced to a formerly foreign concept to me - a personal God. Jesus. As I learned the truths of what He did for me, I embraced Him as my God - my Savior. As I recounted in a previous post called, "Embracing A Different Gospel," me being gay had nothing to do with my decision to believe in Him and accept His Sovereignty. It wasn't about feeling any kind of guilt for being gay. It was about realizing the fact that God loved me even though I didn't deserve it. Period. Purely grace.

It wasn't until afterwards, that I realized a sense of condemnation for being gay - not by Jesus but by His people. The tough thing about this was that the church served as my surrogate family. I allowed myself to see them as family - my brothers and sisters in Christ. Over a period of 10 years, I grew in faith. I grew in my knowledge of Scripture. I grew in the many ways that I could serve Him. In various contexts I led Bible studies, I led worship (keyboard), I led youth groups, I was a greeter, I helped to set up/take down for services, I ushered, I counted tithes and offerings, I did baptisms, I created church bulletins and calendars and flyers, I was a part of small groups, I preached at Sunday morning services, I did neighborhood prayer walks, and I was a part of ministry to the homeless, elderly, and at-risk youth. I listened to nothing but praise and worship music and contemporary Christian music. I was all about the "church culture". I was a "successful" Churchian.

I can own the fact that this seems consistent with my drive to achieve in order to gain a sense of acknowledgement and acceptance. But I can also say that through it all, I was sincerely loving Jesus more and more.

In whatever local church that I was a part of at the time, what I found consistent was that there was a limit to the level of depth that I could have with my surrogate family. The love and connection seemed limited to the confines of the "church culture" - the events, the programs, the ministries, the services. I saw the acceptance of God's people only when I was doing what they viewed to be righteous - merely being present, being in attendance. As long as I was doing the church thing, then everything seemed great. Their knowledge of me was limited to the person they saw at those events. But what about when I was away from church? Did they really understand the profound loneliness that I was experiencing among them? Would they truly love me and continue to hug me on Sunday mornings if they knew that I was attracted to other men?

So over these same ten years, I experienced two types of colliding worlds.

The first type of collision was between the "church culture" that expressed a conditional love in the context of a spectator faith clashing with my recognition of how superficial this felt and how ineffective we were being with the very people we were trying to reach out to. As a person who desperately hungered for relationships with substance, I starved within the "church culture".

I began to have questions - questions about why? Why are we simply going through the motions? Why do people within the church not realize how ineffective we are being with people outside of the church? Why do we play church on Sundays without acknowledging the pain of the person sitting in front of us, or next to us, or behind us, or in the back row? Why do we call each other brother or sister without even knowing where the other lives or what the other needs or even the other's name? Why do we condemn each other without even knowing the context of how things came about?

Over the past three years, I began to realize that Jesus was leading me back to when I first accepted Him - back to when I realized that He was a personal God. I began to realize that He was revealing to me the "church culture" and drawing me away from it, and instead was drawing me towards living a lifestyle of faith that wasn't confined to the structures of brick and mortar or programs and events. And so, I began to realize what I articulated in several previous posts on my "Church" paradigm ("Death of a Church and Life in the Hot Zone", "Jumping the Walls", "Band of Brothers and Sisters", and "Church Outside The Box" - I definitely recommend reading all of them in that order) and instead of waiting for the church's permission or programs, I simply chose to live and function as the Church among the Church and the world. I began to live out my faith, follow Jesus to the places the Churchians didn't want to go, and explore what it looks like to be the Church there.

The second type of collision that I experienced was the clash between what the mainstream church interpretted in Scripture regarding all forms of homosexuality being a sin (an opinion that I held at the time for 13 years of being a Christian) and the reality of living with my same sex attractions for 22 years (since I was 8 years old) while discovering that there were indeed Christ-centered gay people out there.

*Read on to Sankofa (Part Three) to read about this second type of collision and how I entered this journey of exploring these colliding worlds which led to this blog - exploring what it looks like to be both gay and Christian!

Profoundly Offended

It's been a long time since I've cried. I don't mean the single tear out of the corner of my eye and that heart felt feeling of getting choked up inside after seeing a movie or hearing a song that triggered a memory. I mean that gross, nasty, snot running down my nose, mouth crinkled, with waterfall tears flowing from my eyes kind of cry. I'm talking about utter weeping. Have you ever weeped before? I was completely a mess! Driving home on the freeway, I could barely see the road as my eyes were full of tears and my heart wrenched in sorrow.

It was only last Wednesday night that I was feeling so free. I was feeling liberated. I felt like I no longer had to be silent. I could be known as the man that I am. To understand my weeping, you really have to read the last post, "Living Life As All Of Me" (if you haven't already), because that's the frame of mind I was in the very next day when Thursday night hit me . . . .

The very nature of the work that I do in the non-profit organization that my ministry partner and I co-founded is somewhat twofold: helping people to live out their faith and encouraging unity in the 'Body of Christ' (that's Christianese for the whole 'Church'). We started our work here in Long Beach, California (2nd highest gay population in California next to San Francisco) about three and a half years ago and we now have operations in several cities throughout the Los Angeles metropolitan area here in the Southern California region. We work with leaders in churches, businesses, community organizations, schools, city government, and neighborhoods to build relationships with each other, establish trust, identify a common concern, and partner together for tangible growth in a city. It's very exciting stuff and we do this with passion!

So here's the thing. We are a part of an event taking place in January where many organizations from throughout Los Angeles are coming together to identify positive indications of hope and life in the city - both in and out of the Church. I am part of the planning committee. We identified a location for the event and were proceeding with organizing the logistics of everything when a concern was raised. A pretty major concern.

The pastor of the church where we were planning on having the event is gay.

Of course, now everyone has to have a meeting about it. Phone calls are made. Emails are sent out. Conversations are taking place about the appropriateness of having our event at this location. Should we have it there? Would we be endorsing this man's "lifestyle" by having our event there? Will people be offended if they knew that this church where we were having this event at is "open and affirming"? What if people see the rainbow flags at this church's Web site? What if our key speakers back out because they don't want to be a part of an event at a "place like this"? What if people choose not to come to the event because it's at a "place like this"? What if God doesn't show up because it's at a "place like this"?

Goodness. Here we go, about to enter the hot zone - that place where the Church's unspeakable topics and dirty little secrets dwell.

Immediately, efforts were made to find an alternate location for the event. The excuse was made that the alternate location was cheaper (but in reality it is logistically less convenient for the event). The initial discussion was that we were going to take the issue to the larger planning group to decide what we wanted to do about the location of the event. Before that happened, the decision was made to contract with the alternate location. As people began to discuss it, the excuse about the cheaper location was presented as the primary reason for making the change - justification for not giving the rest of the planning committee an opportunity to weigh in and voice their opinion or concerns about the issue.

It was a lie.

The ones who brought up the issue in the first place were not being honest. They were masking the real reason why the location was changed without anyone else's input about the matter.

The location was changed because the pastor of the church, who communicated a tremendous heart and love for God and his community, is gay. They refused to acknowledge every indication of hope and life that could be seen through this ministry because he is gay.

I felt profoundly offended. I felt silenced. I felt second-class. I was a part of some of the early discussion but I, like the rest of the group, was denied an opportunity to speak to the issue.

Keep in mind, just the evening before I posted about finally being whole, finally being known, finally being me - as I am, all of me. And now, I felt deeply connected with this gay pastor and the experience of thousands of gay and lesbians across this country. For the first time in my life, I experienced a personal offense of being persecuted for being the person I am. For the first time in my life, I felt empathy for what it must have felt like to be told to sit at the back of the bus and to be told to use a separate restroom so as to not contaminate those who are clean. For the first time in my life, I truly felt a personal injustice. Granted I have had mild experiences with racial discrimination, but nothing this close to where my heart was attached and it was being beaten with a baseball bat.

And so I cried on the way home from that meeting last Thursday. I weeped. I was filled with images of rejection and hatred towards me - people like me. It was personal. And all I could think of was all of the things - the wonderful things - that I was witnessing God do in my life. And these people would refuse to hear any of it - because I am gay. Their concern was whether or not some people may be offended if they knew what kind of a location the event was held at. They neglect the reality that in raising such a concern, they had already offended me. Profoundly. Yet, that was somehow, acceptable.

Is this acceptable? Is it acceptable to deny justice for one group of people for the sake of offering comfort to another group? Is it acceptable to casually lie about true discriminatory motives and to sweep the issue under the rug? Is it acceptable to host an event designed for identifying hope and life in a city while divisively and disgustingly disassociating from the Christian lepers?

My heart aches. My heart is aching. And I weep over the reality of a society too huge for me to change.

What is God weeping over?