James: 'Not so much coming out, as coming in to a supportive church family'
James and his husband Vin at Pride in Liverpool, July 2017
When I was a very young man I was aware of my attraction towards men, although I assumed it was a phase. In any case the possibility of being gay simply wasn’t talked about in a rural Catholic parish.
At university I continued to explore Christianity and studied the Bible diligently. The over-arching guidance from the university’s Christian Union and the local churches was that 'homosexuality was wrong'. As if it were that simple.
Looking back, I believe this statement was based on a stereotypical view of the types of sexual acts that gay men are 'supposed' to engage in, which the Bible appeared to condemn.
The Christian support groups I was aware of quoted John 8:36: 'If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed'. This wasn’t a reference to conversion therapy, just an interpretation which suggested that it’s OK to acknowledge gay feelings, but not to act on them. This was meant to console Christians who had to carry the burden of same-sex attraction. Naively I tried to support my gay friends along these lines: that we would acknowledge our feelings but not commit any 'sinful acts'. Celibacy seemed like a solution - a way of preserving our Christian integrity while managing youthful feelings of love.
A little later, I was deeply troubled when my pastor, whom I admired so much, came out as gay - and was immediately expelled from the church community. His wonderful books of sermons were taken out of print, and recordings of his sermons were deleted. He was written out of the history of the church community as though by some Stalinist purge. What was his crime? Simply to acknowledge, publicly, that he had feelings towards men. He had not entered into any form of physical relationship, merely expressed his feelings. Where was the scandal or the sin in this? Why so urgently 'expel the immoral brother’?
After university, I started working as a teacher, and had my first bout of depression. Doctors and counselors in whom I confided felt I 'had some stuff to work through'. A Christian counselor proposed the idea that men in my position faced a decision: either adopt a celibate lifestyle with Christian support, or adopt a 'gay' lifestyle with support from secular organisations. I didn’t understand this split, but I certainly didn’t want to lose my Christian faith.
As time went on, what I thought of as my 'gay phase' started to wane. I started dating a woman. We had been friends since school. We were genuinely very much in love, got engaged, then married and had three wonderful children together. We were honest about previous feelings we had experienced. We were married for 13 years until, ironically, she left me to live with her new female partner, and wanted a divorce.
This got me thinking. Perhaps we were products of our time and upbringing, and had fallen into the assumption that people were 'meant to' marry opposite-sex partners and have children. But what if human sexuality were more fluid? Or what if you didn't change as a person over time? What if it just takes a little bit of time to discover who you really are?
After much consideration, I finally acknowledged my sexuality publicly at the ripe old age of 40. I was worried it would be a big deal, but most people were overwhelming supportive.
My first experiences of meeting other gay people were through those dreadful dating apps, and what is known as the 'gay scene'. I appreciate that some people find support in the gay scene, but my brief experience of it was not helpful. If you came out as gay, then nobody blinked an eyelid, but if you said you don't like drinking or partying or certain sexual practices, people would look at you like you had two heads. And then, since I have children, people tended to assume I was a straight man who was looking to experiment. I thought the whole point of coming out was to be true to yourself! What was the point in being open about your sexuality then having to pretend you wanted to go out drinking or clubbing or whatever to be accepted? That didn’t sound like freedom; more like the old dilemma of having to choose between a 'Christian lifestyle' or a 'gay lifestyle’.
Then, when I least expected it, God gave me the most wonderful gift. I met my beautiful future husband at a mutual friend's birthday party. The more we got to know each other, the more we seemed to have in common: our Catholic upbringing, life journeys and love of music.
He brought me to Open Table. I was a little nervous about attending church again, not because of being gay, but because of being divorced. I didn’t (and never would have) initiated divorce proceedings, but my ex-wife did, and that was upsetting.
But the Open Table community was so warm, welcoming and inclusive. It was so liberating to meet a diverse and inclusive group where you could just be yourself. It wasn’t so much a ‘coming out', but rather a 'coming in' experience; coming in, to a supportive church family.
As my partner and I grew together in love, we considered our future and believed we were journeying towards marriage. By this time it was possible to have a same-sex wedding in some Christian churches, but these were not our home church community. So we had our legal ceremony at the register office, which by definition had to be a civil wedding with no reference to Christianity.
We really wanted to celebrate our marriage and commitment to one another before God and our church community, so we wrote a beautiful musical thanksgiving service based on the teachings of St. Francis of Assisi. St Francis’ care for creation and awareness of the richness of blessings, even when living in poverty, show us that we are all part of God’s good creation, in all our wonderful variety, individuality and community.
After the wonderful thanksgiving service, my husband and I had learnt a lot:
It's OK to be yourself.
It's OK to make promises and a commitment to one person.
It's OK to have a relationship based on caring, respect and equality.
It's OK to love God and also to love one another; indeed, I think, that is exactly what we are called to do.
