Growing Up Gay and Adventist

I have been asked to summarize my experience growing up in a strong Adventist family only to find myself gay.

I remember realizing that I was somehow different when I was about 5 years old. I didn't have a name for it yet of, course, nor was it expressed yet in sexual attraction. Perhaps it was feeling more comfortable with girls than boys, not liking the rough and tumble of boys’ behavior; perhaps it was my love for singing, and soon for playing music, and my eagerness to spend hours by myself practicing. (Later, as I became a serious organist and then, later still, realized about my sexuality, I would come to see my organ-playing as a sign of my sexual orientation, for almost every male organist I knew turned out to be gay.) Perhaps it was also in the joy I felt at church, in my sensitivity to spiritual things, my delight in the music there, in the love and acceptance I felt there as a child, my sense that I belonged there--a sense that seemed to be greater than that felt by my peers.

At 12 years I shot up, tall (over 6 ft) and strapping. My peers started to notice the girls differently, but I found I was drawn to some of them. It was very confusing. I had questions, but nowhere to find answers. Then, at 13, I attended both the junior and youth camps run by my local conference. There was a night in between the two, with only two of us--me and an older guy (16) who had been a counselor at the junior camp--in the dorm. He seduced me that night. I was a very willing participant, and it was a good experience, for we talked a lot and many questions were answered: I heard the word "homosexual" for the first time, realized I was not the only one in the world with these attractions, found out something about what "we" could do together to express our attractions. He went on to work for the church, eventually becoming a Union president. It all seemed very natural--no guilt yet at all.

Guilt came about the time I went to college. My sex drive was really strong, and I realized that it was easy to find sex with men, and I became quite promiscuous. I longed for the romance I saw between my straight friends at church, but there seemed to be nothing there for me. I was strongly attracted to a friend there, but I could not even let him know. All I could find was quick sex acts with strangers. I felt so bad after each experience that I would pretend I did not know the guy if I saw him again. Since I rejected myself, there was no possibility of forming a relationship with anyone. I was intensely lonely. I prayed all the time for God to take this away, to change me; I cried; I fasted. I knew instinctively that I could not tell my parents, nor go to anyone in the church for help—they would only condemn, and I was doing that already to myself. I eventually went to the counseling office at the university and asked for help to change. The counselor was amazed that I was doing so well in my studies as a grad student when I was so conflicted. He provided "aversion therapy"--sexually oriented slides, which were accompanied by a small shock when it was a naked man, but not when it was a woman. My reaction was to become even more promiscuous. I tortured myself, wondered if it might be Jesus' will for me to cut off my genitals, and became totally desperate--WHY DID GOD NOT ANSWER MY PRAYERS?

The struggle continued until I was 34. I was still deeply spiritual, heavily involved in church. I still did not think of myself as gay--this was not what I was, only something I kept doing and then repenting of and fruitlessly promising God I would never do it again. The remarkable thing was that I remained sure of my connection to God.

Eventually I found myself thinking through the significance of God's failure to answer my prayers. Surely God had the power to change me if He wanted to! Then maybe He did not want to? At age 34 a friend and I discovered we were mutually attracted to one another. This was something new--and it developed into love. This made such a difference! He was not an Adventist, but of course I took him to church--I wanted to share all the important things in my life with him. Instinctively I knew that this was good, that God was leading. Indeed, I found that in loving another for the first time I gained important new insights into the love of God. Truly it was "not good for man to be alone."

Along the way I had dated lots of women friends. I was responding to social pressure and also to my loneliness. I was comfortable with these friends, and enjoyed sharing concerts and picnics with them. The problem was that they often came to be attracted to me--I was considered good looking, intelligent, well educated, and I had become socially comfortable. They saw my failure to apply sexual pressure to them as compatible with my heavy church involvement. I am so glad that I did not fall into the trap of "turning on the romance" and marrying one of them, as so many gay Adventists have done (indeed, those who went for counseling were often advised to "pray about it, date a woman, and marry her—God would make sure it would work out!"). That would have been a recipe for disaster--for both of us, and any children who might have resulted.

My first relationship did not last that long—neither of us had had any experience in relationships, and we were unreasonably possessive and jealous, for having finally found love, it was so important to us. We had missed out on all the experience most heterosexuals have as teenagers. However, I have been with my present partner for more than a decade; we are officially "domestic partners" registered with the local authorities, and we have a strong sense that God has led us. Indeed, looking back, I realize that He was trying to lead me for years when I would not allow myself to follow—I was much more attuned to the prejudice around me that to the leading of God.

I eventually "came out" to my parents in my early 40s. I am glad I did not do so when younger, for then I could only have told them of my "problem", and it would have caused them only distress, for they would not have known what to do. However, by this time I was comfortable with myself, sure that God had led, and could present the situation positively.

I decided to do it because I realized that, by keeping something so central to my identity away from my parents, they did not really know me—it was causing separation even though this was unconscious on their part. I was also able to tell them that I had four gay cousins. (Later I was to discover that my only nephew was also gay.) We had grown up in different countries and in three different denominations, but this was clearly a family trait. Just as I had taken a long time to accept myself, I could not expect my parents to embrace the news immediately. They had to have room to ask questions, to mull over the answers. I had to be patient when Dad wondered aloud what was "wrong" with our (extended) family. I found that for a while the traditional roles were reversed--I had to be there for my parents rather than they for me, at least in this matter.

While many of my gay Adventist friends seem to have encountered only rejection at church, and have often left in despair, my experience has been different--a mix, of course, but I have received a lot of love and support. I am very grateful to God for that, and to those who have been so supportive. These ultimately included my parents, whose love for me led them to accept me; when they saw my partner Scott and me together, they realized how much we meant to one another, and formally welcomed him into the family. There were tears all around that day.

PS You may be interested in Ron Lawson's letter to his colleagues on his retirement from Queen's University on March 24, 2009. It includes his philosophy of teaching and a bit of a life sketch not included here.