While I do not want to ignore the subject of temptation and what to do with it, I think it would be more relevant to talk about the positives of this weekend retreat spent with my brothers in Christ. A better question to ask and answer about our YOBBERS retreat would be: "Why do you gather together?" And also the question: "What is the fruit of such a gathering?" Perhaps by looking at something more culturally familiar, we can draw a parallel to our experience as gay/SSA "Side B" Christians.
Frankly, all this relational turmoil boiled to the point that I thought: You know what? I'm sick of gay men. Tired of the super sensitive personalities, tired of the drama queens. Heck, the emotionless or stoic personalities of most straight men started to feel preferable to what I'd found lately with other gay/SSA men. Nonetheless, with our YOBBERS retreat coming up I needed to put aside my negativity as best I could.
More than anything, though, what struck me about this year's retreat was a deep sense of unity. As I looked around the room of forty brothers, I considered how what unites us all is our crazy decision to make Jesus our everything – not just to follow Christ in a church on Sunday, but to take a devotion to Him into every single second of our lives.
I was anxious our "vibe" would be too new, too foreign, too strange, and too uncomfortable for too many people. Would the ratio just be off? Would our vibe be off after 27 months apart? Beyond logistics and numbers, I felt anxious about the purpose of this retreat more than either of our previous ones. It all goes back to that nebulous definition of YOB: what are we here for?
It's now been three to four years since I've written those blogs on cuddling and nudity, and I've shared many cuddles since with guys I've met through YOB. But have any of my thoughts changed since I wrote those posts?
There is no one group that is "for" my existence as a celibate SSA Christian, nor is there a specific group "against" it. It can feel like I have no clear place to turn to in the Church, because every place is equally likely to attack some part of who I am or what I do. Meanwhile, all I strive to be is a sold out follower of Christ.
Something came crashing into my mind when Peter asked me to be a team leader at church: a stream of familiar feelings, similar to the ones I felt the first time I had to come out. They were feelings of inadequacy; the line of thinking that I was in a somewhat state of sinfulness that compelled me to confess.
Somewhere in the night, the role reversal from cuddling with Brandon completed itself. Lines got blurred and then definitively crossed. It wasn't sexual touch, but it was inappropriate touch. It wasn't welcomed or invited. Brett didn't ask; he just did. He took. Just as I took from Brandon, Brett took from me. And passive, conflict-avoidant me felt crippled to say a word against it.
What follows is a template to give you a potential starting point for conversation with anyone in your church leadership. I write this as one who has had both positive and negative experiences coming out to church leadership.
I pictured him crying in his bed when he woke up that morning, or even going to bed crying right after leaving me; knowing I'd hurt him, knowing I'd been the one to cross physical boundaries. It destroyed me, if I'm honest.