One of my best friends growing up announced last night that he asked his boyfriend of many many years to marry him. And his boyfriend said YES!! Needless to say, I was beyond ecstatic. In fact, I couldn’t help but post this cheesy clip on his Facebook wall last night, because it was literally what I felt inside when my wife told me. On the outside, I smiled and closed my eyes, but in my heart my arms were vaulted above my head in jubilant triumph as I screamed Yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!!!!
I have mentioned here before that I graduated seminary, but after a couple of years interning in youth ministry I quit. I quit for a number of reasons, but one of the big reasons was my inability to understand why god would send my friend to hell for eternity just because he was gay. In fact, I couldn’t understand what exactly was wrong with being gay. I believed that all of the rules were inspired by the golden rule. Love your neighbor as yourself. So, I understood that murder and stealing and cheating were wrong, because they hurt people. But how did being gay hurt anyone? My best friend was gay and he was one of the best people I ever knew.
Okay, sure, he could get grumpy and he was kind of snarky, but those were just rough edges. He was a kind and loving soul. And deeply religious. He was the person who inspired me to be so religious as a teenager. I would have just been this dorky artist if it wasn’t for him. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but he challenged me. To be a better person. And a braver person, because he didn’t hide his beliefs.
But he did hide the fact that he was gay. Not only did he hide it, he was horribly ashamed of it. And he tried so hard to fight it. He even went to charismatic ministers to cast gay demons out of him. But they always came back, because, of course, there are no such things. He was gay and no amount of praying was ever going to change that.
I still remember arriving at his house once and hearing screaming and crashing noises coming from inside and his mother came out and asked me to go inside and talk to him. I went inside and down the stairs where my friend was standing breathing heavily, his shoulders heaving up and down. He had a piece of a chair (or something) that he was squeezing tightly in one hand. His face red and soaked with tears. A look of rage and sorrow and desperation.
And I remember going to his house to look for him at lunch one day. He hadn’t been at school that morning. We walked back to school together and he asked me to guess what he’d done that morning. I answered that he had lost his virginity. He just about fell over backwards, because I had guessed correctly. He told me the name of the guy. I was so angry. Not at my friend. Well, maybe at my friend. But I didn’t let myself think about how I was angry at my friend. Instead, I pointed it all on the guy. My friend was trying so hard to overcome this and this guy had taken advantage of him. I had never been violent, but I wanted to beat up the guy for doing this to my friend.
I remember after seminary I returned home and I ran into him at the mall. It had been a couple of years. I had heard from his family that he had come out and that he was singing in a band (in drag). He was so nervous when I went up to him, but then as we talked he relaxed. He told me about singing and we had a great chat. Then he told me that he had been afraid to talk to me, because he was afraid I would judge him.
You know how you have those moments in life where in a split second something happens and you find out who you really are. This was one of those moments for me. In a split second I decided that I didn’t care if being gay was wrong. I loved my friend and all I cared about was that he was happy. I told him that he didn’t have anything to worry about from me, because all I care about is that he is happy. Oh, you should have seen his face. It chokes me up just thinking about it. Once again, my friend had inspired me to be a better person. A braver person.
It wasn’t long after that I quit being a minister. Something that ripped the foundation out from under my life. I was certain since I was a young teenager that I was going to be a pastor. It never even occurred to me to think of what else I wanted to be. And my parents. They didn’t understand. They had sent me to seminary. They were so proud. They couldn’t understand why was I turning my back on God and embarrassing my family. Most of my church friends didn’t understand either. They thought I had just fallen away into sin. I became a black sheep among my family and most of my church friends (which were most of my friends). They were all mystified how someone like me could fall away. I was so dedicated. What had happened to me?
Of course, all of that had already happened to my friend. Like I said, he was deeply religious. When he came out, he was instantly rejected by his family and all of his church friends. He was dead to his family. They really couldn’t handle that he was gay AND dressing like a woman to sing on stage in front of the whole town! When I returned they hadn’t even spoken to him in over a year or more.
I was a good kid growing up. A bit hyper. Not always great at school work I wasn’t interested in. But I was obedient. I never openly defied my parents. Never. Except for once.
My friend and I had performed a song for my church (he went to a different church, but I asked him to come to mine to perform with me) and my parents could tell instantly that he was gay (he never really came to my house, so, they barely had seen him). I was pretty clueless and they knew that too, so, they didn’t tell me that they thought he was gay. They told me that they thought he was weird and that they didn’t want me to be friends with him anymore. This was not long after I had walked down the stairs at his house to calm him down. I don’t even know where the strength came from, because I was scared shit-less, but for the first time in my life, I told my parents no.
They threatened me and I still said no. In fact, I got angry with them and told them that they were wrong to ask me to abandon my friend just because he was weird. I wouldn’t do it, no matter what happened. I was surprised when they backed down. They never asked again. Maybe they thought I was graduating soon and going to seminary, so, it would happen anyway. I don’t know. Although, if that was the reason, that didn’t really work out like they hoped, because one of my roommates in seminary was gay and so were 3 of my other close friends there.
I’ve never told my friend any of this. He doesn’t know how much his pain touched me. He doesn’t know how much his bravery inspired me. I am a better person because I know him. Even though, we haven’t seen each other in over a decade and a half now. But now, after all of these years, he is going to get married. Aww, man, it makes me choke up just writing those words.
In that moment that my wife Melissa told me he was engaged… all of my memories of my friend flashed through my mind, like they say happens when you die… but at the end of those memories was now his engagement to be married. A happy fucking ending. Which is all I have ever wanted for him.
Anyway, excuse my wandering in this diary. I just wanted to write my thoughts and feelings as I had them.
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