I met Jesus at Pride: An unexpected encounter
PHOTO: Person with body paint in rainbow colours, by Sharon McCutcheon
AS PRIDE MONTH ends and London Pride celebrates its 50th anniversary, gay Christian blogger Jonny Masters shares this short story to mark this milestone:
I went to Pride for the first time the other day. I wasn’t sure what to expect.
It was in a major city, so there were large crowds of people in the parade. There were people with painted faces, rainbow flags on their cheeks. One man’s entire face was a rainbow flag. Then there were the actual flags. Hundreds of them waved by laughing, smiling folk.
The air hummed with joy.
On the edges of the joyful crowd, a small group grumbled their protest. ‘God loves you, but wants you to change,’ one sign read. Another read, ‘Repent! Turn to Christ!’
Such a shame to see during this celebration of life. I turned away from them and met the eye of another man. He walked alone among the crowds, his smile showing slightly wonky teeth. His hair was black and his skin was brown. He sported a beard and long hair. ‘Jesus is here,’ I chuckled to myself.
I waved and walked up to him.
‘Hi,’ I said, feeling slightly awkward, but wanting to be friendly.
‘Hey,’ he replied, putting his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a brown jacket, white t-shirt and jeans. He looked pretty good, despite the wonky teeth. I felt comfortable with him immediately, perhaps because my awkwardness seemed to be mirrored by his own.
‘This is my first time at something like this. Have you been to any before?’
‘Yeah, quite a few,’ he said. ‘I love the joy I find here. People are celebrating who they were made to be. I love that!’
His enthusiasm was infectious. ‘Yes! I’m just learning that,’ I said, enjoying this conversation. For so long I had struggled with my sexuality. Now, at last, I was openly gay. It wasn’t easy, but it was better than being only half of myself.
I decided to share some more. ‘I wasn’t sure I wanted to come here. But it is so wonderful. It makes you realise how full of colour life is. Just a shame about those protesters.’ I nodded in their direction. The man looked over to where the protesters continued their ardent refusal to see the colour of life.
He laughed. Why would he laugh? I looked at him quizzically, an eyebrow raised. ‘What?’ I said.
‘Oh, nothing. I just feel sorry for them. The irony is ridiculous. They come out here so certain they are right with their closed hearts and closed minds. They do not see what is before them. But then, hardly anyone does.’
He looked at me with a wry smile when he said that last sentence.
I noticed a mark on his wrist, similar to one on my friend who had self-harmed as a teenager. This man knew pain, probably even more than me. I wondered if he was gay too.
‘What started you coming to these?’ I asked, trying to be tactful about it.
‘Oh. Some of my best friends are gay. I have some amazing trans friends too. In fact, I have friends right across the spectrum. I’m here for them. I’ve always been here for them.’
Still, I wondered if he was an ally or one of us too. I didn’t want to pry any more, though. Besides, I didn’t have time.
He asked a question next. ‘What made you afraid to come here?’
Straight to the point then.
‘I’m not sure,’ I replied, buying time while I gathered my thoughts. ‘For a long time I didn’t know who I was, and when I realised, I didn’t want to be that at first. Once I came to terms with it, I started worrying about what other people would say. It has been a long journey.’
‘I am sad to hear that,’ my new friend said thoughtfully, ‘It sounds like your choices in life have been guided by fear instead of love. It is heartbreaking what people do to each other.’ His words resonated with me and I felt curiously emotional.
‘Hey, I’m sorry. I’ve got to meet someone else now. Great to chat,’ he said, then turned into the crowd.