I'm Christian unless you're gay- the personal side of this story

It has taken me several weeks to get the courage to post his to my blog- not the article itself, because I posted a link to it on my Facebook page several weeks ago, but because I will be making some comments at the end of the article that are extremely personal to me.


I’m Christian, unless you’re gay.

BY DAN PEARCE ON MONDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 2011 • Today I want to write about something that has bothered me for the better part of a decade. I’ve carved out no fewer than a dozen drafts of this post, all strangely unalike, all ultimately failing to accomplish the job I’ve set out to do. Truth is, I’ve been trying to write it off and on for more than a year now, and the right words have been seemingly impossible to come by.


In the end, and in order to post it, I guess I had to care more about the message than I do about potential backlash. I’m not being facetious when I say that I hope I can get this message across without offending… well… everybody. What I really hope is that this post will spark and encourage poignant and worthwhile discussion that will lead to some poignant and worthwhile changes in the lives of at least a few people who are hurting. That being said, I believe some strong words need to be said today. “God hates fags.” We’ve all seen the signs being waved high in the air by members of the Westboro Baptist church. On TV. In real life. It’s hard not to take notice.


Over the years, I’ve watched seemingly never-ending disgustingness and hatred spill across the media airwaves from those who belong to the organization. For those who don’t know much about that “church,” they have made a seedy name for themselves by doing drastic things like picketing beneath atrocious signs and hosting flagrant anti-gay protests at military funerals. Almost every person of nearly every religion has no problem loathing and condemning the Westboro Baptist Church and its members, and perhaps with reason. They take freedom of speech far beyond what our founding fathers intended when they fought to give us that right, and they laugh at the rest of the world while they do.

But today I don’t want to talk about those idiots. I want to talk about you. And me. And my friend who I’ll call Jacob. Jacob is 27 years old, and guess what… he’s gay. Not a lot of people know. He lives in a community where being gay is still very “frowned upon.” I was talking to him on the phone a few weeks ago, telling him about my failed attempts to write this post. He was trying to hold his emotions in, but he eventually became tearful as we deliberated the very problem that this post attempts to discuss. Before I go on, I feel I must say something one time. Today’s post is not about homosexuality. It’s not about Christians. It’s not about religion. It’s not about politics. It’s about something else altogether. Something greater. Something simpler. It’s about love. It’s about kindness. It’s about friendship And love, kindness, and friendship are three things that Jacob hasn’t felt in a long time. I’m thankful he gave me permission to share our conversation with you.

It went something like this. “Jacob, I honestly don’t know how to write it,” I said. “I know what I want to get across, but I can never find the right words.” “Dan, you need to write it. Don’t give up. I’m telling you, it needs to be said.” I paused. “You don’t understand. It’s too heated a subject. It’s something people are very emotional and touchy about. I’d be lynched.” My friend hesitated. “Dan, you are the only friend I have that knows I’m gay. The only freaking one,” he said. “What do you mean? I know you’ve told other friends.” That’s when his voice cracked.

He began crying. “Every single person I’ve told has ditched me. They just disappear. They stop calling. They remove me on Facebook. They’re just gone,” he said. “They can’t handle knowing and being friends with a gay person.” I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t say anything. “You don’t know what it’s like, man. You don’t know what it’s like to live here and be gay. You don’t know what it’s like to have freaking nobody. You don’t know what it’s like to have your own parents hate you and try and cover up your existence. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t want this. And I’m so tired of people hating me for it. I can’t take it anymore. I just can’t.” How do you respond to that? I wanted to tell him it was all in his head. I knew it wasn’t.


I wanted to tell him it would get better and easier. The words would have been hollow and without conviction, and I knew it. You see, I live in this community too. And I’ve heard the hate. I’ve heard the disgust. I’ve heard the disdain. I’ve heard the gossip. I’ve heard the distrust. I’ve heard the anger. I’ve heard it all, and I’ve heard it tucked and disguised neatly beneath a wrapper of self-righteousness and a blanket of “caring” or “religious” words. I’ve heard it more times than I care to number. About gay people. About people who dress differently. About people who act differently. About fat people. About people with drug addictions. About people who smoke. About people with addictions to alcohol. About people with eating disorders. About people who fall away from their faiths. About people who aren’t members of the dominant local religion. About people who have non-traditional piercings. About people who just look at you or me the wrong way.

I’ve heard it, and I’ve heard it over, and over, and over again. Hell, in the past (and to some degree in the present) I participated in it. I propagated it. I smugly took part in it. I’ll admit that. And I did so under the blanketing term “Christian.” I did so believing that my actions were somehow justified because of my beliefs at the time. I did so, actually believing that such appointments were done out of… love. This isn’t just a Utah phenomenon. I’ve lived outside of this place. I’ve worked outside of this place. It was just as bad in Denver.

It was just as bad in California. I see it on blogs. I hear it on television shows and radio programs. I hear it around my own family’s dinner table from time to time. Usually said so passively, so sneakily, and so “righteously.” From Christians. From Buddhists. From Hindus. From Muslims. From Jews. “God hates fags.” “God hates addicts.” “God hates people who shop at Salvation Army.” “God hates people that aren’t just like me.” People may not be holding up picket signs and marching around in front of television cameras but… come on.


Why is it that so many incredible people who have certain struggles, problems, or their own beliefs of what is right and wrong feel so hated? Why do they feel so judged? Why do they feel so… loathed? What undeniable truth must we all eventually admit to ourselves when such is the case? Now, I’m not religious. I’m also not gay. But I’ll tell you right now that I’ve sought out religion. I’ve looked for what I believe truth to be. For years I studied, trying to find “it”. Every major religion had good selling points. Every major religion, if I rewound far enough, had some pretty incredible base teachings from some pretty incredible individuals.


Check this out, and feel free to correct me if I get this wrong… According to Christians, Jesus taught a couple of interesting things. First, “love one another.” Second, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” (“Her” being a woman who cheated on her man.)

According to Buddhists, Buddha taught a couple of thought-provoking things. First, “Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.” Second, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.”

According to Hindus, a couple of fascinating teachings come to mind. First, “Do not get angry or harm any living creature, but be compassionate and gentle; show good will to all.” (Krishna) Second, “Love means giving selflessly, excluding none and including all.” (Rama)

According to Muslims, Muhammad taught a couple interesting things as well. First, “A true Muslim is the one who does not defame or abuse others; but the truly righteous becomes a refuge for humankind, their lives and their properties.” Second, “Do you love your creator? Love your fellow-beings first.”

According to Judaism, their scriptures teach a couple remarkable things. First, “Love your neighbor like yourself.” Second, “Examine the contents, not the bottle.” The greatest spiritual leaders in history have all preached love for others as the basis for all happiness, and never did they accompany such mandates with a list of unlovable actions or deeds. They never said, love everybody except for the gays. Love everybody except for the homeless. Love everybody except for the drug users. Love everybody except for the gang members, or those covered in ink, or the spouse abusers. They didn’t tell us it was okay to love everybody with the exception of the “trailer trash,” those living in poverty, or the illegal immigrants. They didn’t tell us it was okay to love everybody except for our ex-lovers, our lovers’ ex lovers, or our ex-lovers’ lovers.

The mandate was pretty damn clear, wasn’t it? Love others. Period. So if this is the founding directive of all the major religions… why is it that sometimes the most “Christlike” people are they who have no religion at all? Let me repeat that. Why is it that sometimes the most Christlike people are they who have no religion at all? I have known a lot of people in my life, and I can tell you this… Some of the ones who understood love better than anyone else were those who the rest of the world had long before measured as lost or gone. Some of the people who were able to look at the dirtiest, the poorest, the gays, the straights, the drug users, those in recovery, the basest of sinners, and those who were just… plain… different… They were able to look at them all and only see strength. Beauty. Potential. Hope. And if we boil it down, isn’t that what love actually is? Don’t get me wrong.


I know a lot of incredible Christians, too. I know some incredible Buddhists and Muslims and Hindus and Jews. I know a lot of amazing people, devout in their various religions, who truly love the people around them. I also know some atheist, agnostic, or religion less people who are absolutely hateful of believers. They loathe their religious counterparts. They love only those who believe (or don’t believe) the same things they do. In truth, having a religion doesn’t make a person love or not love others. It doesn’t make a person accept or not accept others. It doesn’t make a person befriend or not befriend others. Being without a religion doesn’t make somebody do or be any of that either.


No, what makes somebody love, accept, and befriend their fellow man is letting go of a need to be better than others. Nothing else. I know there are many here who believe that living a homosexual life is a sin. Okay. But, what does that have to do with love? I repeat… what does that have to do with love? Come on. Don’t we understand? Don’t we get it? To put our arm around someone who is gay, someone who has an addiction, somebody who lives a different lifestyle, someone who is not what we think they should be… doing that has nothing to do with enabling them or accepting what they do as okay by us. It has nothing to do with encouraging them in their practice of what you or I might feel or believe is wrong vs. right. It has everything to do with being a good human being, a good person, a good friend. That’s all. To put our arm around somebody who is different. Why is that so hard? I’m not here to say homosexuality is a sin or isn’t a sin. To be honest, I don’t give a rip. I don’t care. I’m not here to debate whether or not it’s natural or genetic. Again, I… don’t… care. Those debates hold no encumbrance for me.


What I care about is the need so many of us have to shun and loathe others. The need so many of us have to feel better or superior to others. The need some of us have to declare ourselves right and “perfect” all the freaking time and any chance we have. And for some of us, these are very real needs. But I will tell you this. All it really is… All any of it really is… is bullying. Sneaky, hurtful, duplicitous, bullying. Well, guess what. There are things we all do or believe that other people consider “sinful.” There are things we all do or believe that other people consider “wrong.” There are things we all do or believe that other people would be disgusted or angered by. “Yes, but I have the truth!” most people will adamantly declare. Okay. Whether you do or not… I promise you it doesn’t matter what you believe, how strongly you live your beliefs, or how true your beliefs are. Somebody else, somewhere, thinks you are in the wrong. Somebody else, somewhere, thinks your beliefs are senseless or illogical. Somebody else, somewhere, thinks you have it all wrong. In fact, there are a lot of people in this world who do. We each understand that. We already know that. It’s the world we live in and we’re not naïve. We’re not stupid. We get it. Yet, we expect and want love anyway. We expect and want understanding. We expect and want tolerance. We expect and want humanity. We expect and want respect for our beliefs, even from those who don’t believe the same things we do. Even from those who think we’re wrong, unwise, or incorrect. We expect all of that from the people who disagree with us and who disagree with our lifestyles and beliefs because, let’s be honest, nothing we do is actually bad enough to be worthy of disgust, anger, hatred, or cold-shouldering. Right? None of the ways in which we live our lives would warrant such behavior. Right?


None of our beliefs are worthy of ugly disdain from others. Right? No, we’re all… perfect. Freaking, amazingly, impossibly… perfect. But the gays… well, shoot. [sigh] You know what I think? Let this sink in for a minute… I think it doesn’t matter if you or I or anybody else thinks homosexuality is a sin. It doesn’t matter if you or I think anything is a sin. It doesn’t matter if homosexuality is a sin or not. In fact, it doesn’t matter if anything anybody else does is a sin or not. Because sin is a very personal thing! It always has been and it always will be! And it has nothing to do with love. Absolutely nothing. Disparity and difference have nothing to do with love. We shouldn’t choose who we will love and who we won’t.


“I’m Christian, unless you’re gay.” That’s the message we’re sending, you know. “I’m Christian, unless I’m hotter than you.” “I’m Christian, unless I’m uglier than you.” “I’m Christian, unless I found out you cheated on your income taxes.” “I’m Christian, unless you cut me off in traffic.” “I’m Christian, unless you fall in love with the person I once fell in love with.” “I’m Christian, unless you’re that guy who smells like crap on the subway.” “I’m Christian, unless you’re of a different religion.” “Oh, but you’re not gay? You’re clean, and well dressed, and you have a job? You look the way I think you should look? You act the way I think you should act? You believe the things I think you should believe? Then I’m definitely a Christian. To you, today, I’m a Christian. You’ve earned it.” I bet you’ve heard that message coming from others. Maybe you’ve given that message to others. Either way, I hope we all can agree that we mustn’t live that message. We just shouldn’t. But many of us do. And we do it all the time. For some of us, it might as well be tattooed across our necks and foreheads.

Maybe not in those words, but the message is clear to those who hear and are listening. It’s clear to those who are watching and seeing. The message has been very clear to my friend Jacob. “Every single person I’ve told has ditched me. They just disappear. They stop calling. They remove me on Facebook. They’re just gone. They can’t handle knowing and being friends with a gay person.” “You don’t know what it’s like, man. You don’t know what it’s like to live here and be gay. You don’t know what it’s like to have freaking nobody. You don’t know what it’s like to have your own parents hate you and try and cover up your existence. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t want this. And I’m so tired of people hating me for it. I can’t take it anymore. I just can’t.” Jacob is a dear friend. He’s my brother. He’s a damn good human being. He’s absolutely incredible. He’s also gay.


But why does that make any difference at all? It doesn’t. Not to me. And I wish with everything inside of me that it didn’t make any difference to others. I wish we didn’t all have to find ways that we’re better than others or more holy and saintly than others in order to feel better about our own messy selves. I wish people wouldn’t cluster entire groups of people together and declare the whole lot unworthy of any love and respect. But that is the point of such thinking and action, isn’t it? I mean, it’s simpler that way. It makes it easier for us to justify our thoughts, words, and prejudices that way.

All these people become clumped together. And in the process, they all somehow become less than human. They become unworthy of our love. And what a great thing it is when that happens, right? I mean, it helps us to free ourselves from the very directives that have been passed down for millennia from the greatest teachers and philosophers in history. It makes our rationalization for hatred, bigotry, and abhorrence so easily justifiable; so maskable. So right. It gives us the golden chance to look at ourselves and not be disgusted by what the glass reflects back at us.

Then, sadly and ultimately, it pushes us to that point where we no longer have any sort of arm to put around others at all. We no longer have a hand to offer our fellow human beings. We no longer have a need to. And why would we? Why the hell should we? Unless, of course, we actually want to live what we all so often claim that we “believe.” My dear friends… This has to stop. We have to put our ugly picket signs down. We have to be the examples that help make it happen in our own lives and in the lives of the people that surround us. We have to be that voice. We each must be that voice. We must tell others that we will not accept or listen to such hurtful and hateful sentiments. We must show love where love right now doesn’t exist.

Will you please join me? My request today is simple. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Find somebody, anybody, that’s different than you. Somebody that has made you feel ill-will or even [gulp...] hateful. Somebody whose life decisions have made you uncomfortable. Somebody who practices a different religion than you do. Somebody who has been lost to addiction. Somebody with a criminal past. Somebody who dresses “below” you. Somebody with disabilities. Somebody who lives an alternative lifestyle. Somebody without a home. Somebody that you, until now, would always avoid, always look down on, and always be disgusted by. Reach your arm out and put it around them. And then, tell them they’re all right. Tell them they have a friend. Tell them you love them. If you or I wanna make a change in this world, that’s where we’re gonna be able to do it. That’s where we’ll start. Every. Single. Time. Because what you’ll find, and I promise you this, is that the more you put your arm around those that you might naturally look down on, the more you will love yourself. And the more you love yourself, the less need you’ll ever have to find fault or be better than others.


And the less we all find fault or have a need to be better than others, the quicker this world becomes a far better place to live. And don’t we all want to live in a better world? Don’t we all want our kids to grow up in a better, less hateful, more beautiful world? I know I do. So let’s be that voice. Let’s offer that arm to others. Because, the honest truth is… there’s gonna come a day when you or I are going to need that same courtesy. There’s going to come a day that we are desperate for that same arm to be put around us. We’ll be desperate for that same friendship. We’ll be desperate for that same love. Life will make sure of it. For you. For me. For everyone. It always does because… as it turns out… there’s not a damn person on earth who’s perfect.

Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing

PS. I would love your comments and thoughts today. More than anything, I’d really like to hear people’s individual struggles. I’d like to hear your struggles. I believe that everybody will benefit as we all share that which hurts us and haunts us. When have you seen or experienced this? What effects has it had in your life or the lives of others that are close to you? Have you ever seen positive results as people become more loving toward those who are different? How have you felt along the way? There are those who have struggled because they have been on the receiving end of it. And there are those who have struggled as they work to overcome it. I’ve grappled on both sides.


This message is so important to me; among the most important that this faulted blogger has ever written and because of that I have no hesitation asking you to share it. If it’s important to you, too, please share it. If you believe its message needs to be spread, please share it. Use your voice for that which it was meant. Use your voice to embolden the world. Use your voice to say, “enough is enough.” Use your voice to stand up and declare that there is no other way besides love. With all my heart. Please


Steve Taff: Now my personal comments; The reason this article struck such a chord with me is that my son Zachary is gay. Zach told us he was gay about 12 years ago, or when he was 15 or so. I was horrified and didn't know what to think. He was worried we were going to kick him out of the house. We lived in Gig Harbor Washington then, and soon after this announcement our house and cars began to get “egged” at night. Zach would be out there in the middle of the night by himself trying to wash the eggs off the cars and our home because he knew the reason it happened.

How could my kind loving son be gay? How could a kind, loving Heavenly Father allow this to happen to someone like him. Zach is always been a people person, with empathy and insights into others that the rest of us don't have.

To illustrate this point I would like to share a couple of stories about Zach I have taken from my personal history: Zach has been our child with the most interpersonal awareness. He has always had the ability to make friends with a variety of people of various ages. He has the ability to empathize with others, and has helped a number of people thru difficulties in their lives.

There was one particular example of this that sticks out in my memory. We were living in Fairfield, CA, and had a family outing at Laurel Creek Park near our home. Zach must have been about 7 or 8 years old at the time (1992). There was a little girl at the park that was lost. She was probably 5 or 6, and looked so forlorn and tearful, as she wandered about looking for her parents, or whoever had dropped her off at the park. Zach put his arm around her and wouldn’t leave her side until her parents eventually came back for her.

May 24, 2002- was “performance week” at the Gymnastics 4U club in Longview, WA. Zach had been employed there as a teacher for about three months. Zach, his brother Greg and sister Jenni all performed on the uneven parallel bars, beam (Jen), rings (Greg and Zach) and the floor exercise (all 3). Greg and Zach were, by far, the most athletic of the performers, and their dual floor exercise routine was the showcase of the performance each night.


Zach had almost lost his job at the gym several weeks prior when his SSA article came out in the local newspaper (more on that later). Pam, the owner of the gymnastics business, had lost a customer because one of the parents wouldn’t allow their child to associate with a gay person. Pam explained to Zach that if she were to lose more clients, she would have no choice, but to terminate his employment to preserve her business. Thankfully that didn’t happen.

This night was the last performance of the week. The stands were fill with parents, families and friends of the performers. The kids all did well, and spirits were high. Gymnastic students were cheering and shouting support for one another as they performed. One of the tensest moments of the evening occurred when a group of six to eight young girls (age 4 or 5 years), along with their instructor, were performing a floor exercise routine to music. One of the little ones got “stage fright” and just stood there “frozen” as the rest of her class continued away from her through the routine.

The little girl got more and more embarrassed as all eyes focused on her, and she covered her face in shame. No one knew what to do, not the instructor who was on the floor with her class, not the other adult instructors, or even the owner/manager of the business. The tension in the room grew.

Suddenly, Zach jumped up from the sidelines and ran out onto the floor to her side. He whispered something in her ear and slowly coaxed her back into the flow of the routine, little by little, continuing to move with her across the floor toward the rest of the class, and actually doing the routine with them himself, so the scared little one would follow. Then, as she got her confidence back, Zach melted back into the crowd on the sidelines so she could finish the routine on her own with the rest of her class.

This was by far the best moment of performance week, and I have never been prouder as a parent. Speaking about being proud of my son, let's go back several months to where an article came out in the Longview Daily News that involved him. Unbeknownst to me, Zach had been working to try to get a GLBTSA club approved for Mark Morris high school. (That's gay, lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Straight Alliance for those of you who don't know, and I did not at the time). He had appeared before the school board to make his case for such a club to have the right to meet on campus, and the local newspaper picked this up in their article. I can't remember for sure, but I think they even had his picture in the paper.

You can imagine the conflict of feelings that I had when this happened. I was horrified! Everyone in town now knew that I had a gay child! I was proud! I couldn't believe that my son would have the courage to stand before a group of adults and try to change their minds about a sensitive topic. And no, they did not grant the club sanction to meet on campus at that time, nor do they list it as a club today.

Now back to my original question as to why God would allow my son, or any of his children to have same-sex attraction? Bridgette Night, a friend of mine who also has a gay son, shared this idea with me. She referred to a Scripture in the New Testament found in John 9:2 that goes like this: “ And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him”.

Now, many “Christians” will call me a blasphemer for comparing blindness to same-sex attraction, but the more and more I have thought about this, the more sense it makes. In my belief system, we are all sent to earth to be tested and tried. There's no question that people with same-sex attraction are put to a big test with all the hate and discrimination they have to endure on a daily basis, but I think the larger test is for those of us who do not have same-sex attraction.

How do we treat others that are different from us? I can tell you from personal experience that having a gay son has helped me grow spiritually in ways I never imagined. I'm sorry to say that I carried very bigoted feelings toward gay people before Zach came out. That has changed. Jesus taught that we should “be a light and not a judge”, and “let he who is without sin cast the first stone”. So when I hear so-called Christians condemn people with same-sex attraction to hell, I wonder what they are thinking. They cite Scripture from the Old Testament, but then the Old Testament also talks about an eye for an eye, and other laws that were changed when the Savior served his ministry.

I believe we will all be judged on how well we have done in our lives, given our particular unique circumstances. Stephen Robinson expressed this idea well in his story “parable of the divers”, which will be the subject of my next post.