O<\/strong>ver the years, LEADERSHIP has earned a reputation for addressing\n ministry issues realistically and redemptively. Occasionally that means tackling\n a taboo.<\/em><\/p>\n Seventeen years ago we published “The War Within,” an anonymous\n minister’s battle with lust and voyeurism. With its realistic depiction\n of sexual temptation, it quickly became one of our most controversial—and\n most requested—articles.<\/em><\/p>\n Nearly two decades later, sexual temptations in various forms continue\n to plague those in ministry. The following is one pastor’s lengthy struggle\n to overcome homosexual thoughts and desires. Like “The War Within,” this\n is a straightforward account of a sensitive subject, but we believe its\n publication could be a first step in helping other Christian leaders who\n are privately facing a similar struggle.<\/em><\/p>\n\n Some days the urge to fantasize wasn’t so bad. I’d be engrossed\nin my work, and the thoughts wouldn’t even enter my head. Those were\nthe times that I loved being a pastor. I relished the privilege of reaching\nout to others and sensed that God used me to touch hurting lives.<\/p>\n\n But other days it took all I had to stay focused on ministry. The feelings\nwould creep into my mind, stirred up by a muscular physique on the street\nor a handsome face in a restaurant. I’d pray and try to quash the thoughts\nright there, but often they grew too great, too pleasurable. Those were the\ntimes I hated being a pastor. I despised the lie I was living.<\/p>\n\n My life and ministry were a tangled mess. On the surface I was a respected\nchurch leader, married to a beautiful woman, with a wonderful family. Inside,\nI was an entirely different person, consumed by homosexual desires.<\/p>\n\n Sunday mornings were particularly distressing. How does a so-called man of\nGod enter the pulpit and preach with integrity and conviction about becoming\na new creation when his own life feels so stained and hopeless? Often I would\ngaze over the congregation and think, If only you people knew what I was\nreally like, what I struggle with every day, the kinds of thoughts I entertained\nthis week … <\/em><\/p>\n\n One day I drove to a distant town to meet with a group of fellow pastors\nin my denomination. We sat in a conference room discussing areas in our region\nthat would be ideal for new church plants. But as we talked demographics\nand strategies, I fought to block out recurring images of pornography, images\nthat had been etched into my mind from repeated viewings of sexually explicit\nmovies and photos.<\/p>\n\n On the way home, I took an exit ramp, consulted the Yellow Pages, and within\nminutes was in an adult video store, perusing the video jackets and glossy\nmagazines, searching for a picture of the perfect man.<\/p>\n\n Not like the other guys<\/strong>\nI was raised in a working-class, Christian family. God made it clear that\nministry was his path for my life early on. It was not always a welcomed\ncall. I feared it, fought it, pushed it aside. Yet I couldn’t shake\nit.<\/p>\n\n Nothing gave me more peace and fulfillment than helping other people and\nconnecting them with their Creator. I was very involved in my youth group,\na regular volunteer for mission trips, a tireless camp counselor during the\nsummers. Ministry was my joy—the one thing that made me feel whole.<\/p>\n\n Ironically, my call to ministry coincided with the emergence of my homosexual\nstruggle. As a young boy, I had a great curiosity about the male body. I’m\nnot sure why. Maybe it was because my father, who worked two jobs, was not\naround much. When he was present, he was neither affirming nor affectionate.\nI was convinced he didn’t love me, and I felt I was a disappointment\nto him.<\/p>\n\n As a teenager, I concluded I was different. While I felt some attraction\nto girls, I was much more attracted to members of my own sex. As I matured\nphysically, those attractions became stronger. I knew, however, that to tell\nanyone would be a tragic mistake.<\/p>\n\n When my parents spoke of homosexuals, they used words like “perverted” and\n“disgusting.”<\/p>\n\n I read in the newspaper one day a letter written to Ann Landers from someone\nwho was struggling with homosexual feelings. That same evening, Mom referred\nto the piece. She called the man a “homo” and said people like that were\nsick in the head. Her words stung. If only she knew that his struggle was\nher son’s as well.<\/p>\n\n In high school, there were jokes about “fags” and “queers.” Trying to be\none of the guys, I laughed. But within, I ached. I was confused. Why was\nI attracted to guys? Was I a woman stuck in a man’s body? Was I\nnature’s mistake?<\/p>\n\n Many times I went to my room and cried out to God, sometimes in anger, sometimes\nout of overwhelming helplessness. I pleaded with God to change me. But no\nmatter how passionate my plea, no matter how intense my prayers, I did not\nchange. My same-sex desires did not go away. In my mind, God remained silent.<\/p>\n\n I found relief through fantasy and masturbation. Though I never had a sexual\nencounter with another male, I fed my cravings with erotic images from magazines.\nBy the time I graduated from high school, I had been exposed to a relatively\nsmall amount of pornography, but my fantasy life was out of control. It was\nmy way of dealing with the loneliness. It gave me an escape, a rush, until\nthe next wave of shame washed over me.<\/p>\n\n College opened a whole new world of lust and sexual obsession. I was now\nan adult in a different city. I could get lost. I attended a Christian college\nbut had more freedom than I’d ever known before. Within a few months,\nI discovered hard-core pornography.<\/p>\n\n I cried out to God, \nsometimes in anger, \nsometimes out of \noverwhelming helplessness. \nI pleaded with God \nto change me.<\/em><\/p>\n\n I continued to fill my mind with new images of men I saw in magazines or\nviewing booths. But the relief was always temporary. Each time I felt a little\nmore miserable. My shame increased, as well as feelings of inferiority. It\nwas hard to concentrate on schoolwork. Most of the time, life was hell.<\/p>\n\n First confession<\/strong>\nMidway through college, I gathered the courage to share my pain with a close\nfriend. We had hit it off well from the beginning. I considered him godly,\nspiritual, and caring. I respected him for his confidence and what seemed\nlike wisdom beyond his years. I thought it would be safe to tell him my secret.<\/p>\n\n By this time, the anguish of being an observer in life instead of a participant\nwas more than I could bear. The guys in my dormitory were dating, pursuing\ndreams, and thinking about their futures. Some were planning to get engaged.\nI, however, was paralyzed by fear and shame.<\/p>\n\n The night I decided to share my secret, my friend and I were away at a retreat.\nIt was close to midnight as we lay in our room talking about school and life.\nThe room was dark. He was on the top bunk. I lay on the one beneath. The\nyears of pain and rejection were churning inside me. My body was shaking.\nI wanted to share my secret, but the words wouldn’t come. How do you\ntell someone you’re a homosexual? Would he reject me? Would he tell\nothers?<\/p>\n\n I lay silent, searching for words, any words, other than the “H” word. There\nwere none.<\/p>\n\n Finally I said, “You know how guys are supposed to be attracted to girls?\nWell, I’m attracted to … ” I fell silent in fear, but he already knew.<\/p>\n\n “Guys?” he said.<\/p>\n\n “Yeah,” I answered after a long pause. Suddenly, my secret was out. For the\nfirst time, my soul lay naked before another person.<\/p>\n\n I don’t remember my roommate’s words that evening, but I remember\nhis kindness. How he prayed for me and accepted me. He gave me a tiny glimpse\nof what God’s grace and acceptance might be like.<\/p>\n\n It was a healing moment, but within the next few weeks our friendship\ndeteriorated. I leaned on him too much. I looked to him to help me, to encourage\nme, to fix me. In the end, my neediness drove him away. Wisely, he encouraged\nme to see a counselor, which I did. But the counseling was short-term and\ndidn’t do a lot to help me.<\/p>\n\n A tough calling<\/strong>\nDespite my feelings of doubt and inadequacy, I continued my journey toward\nfull-time ministry. I went to seminary hoping that somehow I would find the\nhealing I desperately longed for.<\/p>\n\n Some might argue I shouldn’t have pursued ministry in the first place,\nthat my struggle with homosexuality disqualified me from effective service,\nand, to some extent, I can appreciate those objections. But then I wonder\nif those objectors have ever experienced a call from God; the way he\nsupernaturally woos, empowers, and blesses one into his service.<\/p>\n\n In unmistakable ways—through conversations, encouragement from others, and\neffectiveness in the ministries I undertook—I knew that becoming a pastor\nwas my destiny. It wasn’t an easy process.<\/p>\n\n At times I agonized, wondering if I was sanctified enough for this calling.\nBut God continued opening doors to ministry, and, however crippled from my\ninner battle, I walked through them.<\/p>\n\n Through most of my seminary career, I managed to resist the urge to pick\nup pornography. After one instance of giving in to the temptation, I confessed\nto my pastor. A thoughtful and understanding man, he referred me to a counselor\nwho encouraged me to start dating women. I took his advice to heart. It was\na move that would change my life forever.<\/p>\n\n Trying the knot<\/strong>\nI soon began seeing a special young woman from my church. Laura (not her\nreal name) was a gentle and caring person, who was always willing to listen\nto my complaints about Greek exams or 30-page theology papers. We made each\nother laugh and, in time, became very close.<\/p>\n\n Still, I didn’t see any reason to tell her my secret. I knew that if\nour relationship continued to progress, I eventually would have to tell her.\nBut I decided to wait. Perhaps I would find freedom from my struggle before\nI’d need to reveal it to her.<\/p>\n\n One evening I succumbed to temptation and visited a liquor store that sold\nmale pornography. This time, though, the guilt was too much for me. I knew\nLaura saw our relationship as one with long-term potential. The right thing\nto do, I finally decided, was to stop deceiving her and ‘fess up. She\nneeded to know who I really was.<\/p>\n\n My confession caught her totally off guard. At first she was afraid. “Why\nare you attracted to me?” she asked. “What does this mean for our relationship?”<\/p>\n\n I couldn’t answer her. I encouraged her to talk to our pastor, who was\nfamiliar with my situation. They met the following week. He distinguished\nfor her the difference between the condition of homosexuality and the actual\nsin of acting upon one’s desires. Because I was not acting upon my impulses\nand only struggled with desires, he believed it was safe to continue with\nthe relationship.<\/p>\n\n The pastor’s counsel helped assuage Laura’s uneasiness, and we\neventually decided to marry. I loved Laura, but I also saw marriage as an\nimportant step towards shutting the door on my homosexual self and embracing\na new life of public heterosexuality.<\/p>\n\n By marrying, I hoped those old lusts and desires would gradually fade—they\ndidn’t.<\/p>\n\n Slowly I realized that this was an awful way to enter a marriage. I bounced\nfrom being a good husband to being one who was moody, angry, and depressed.\nThe frustration that came with my inability to resist temptation was taken\nout on my wife. I blamed her for my problems.<\/p>\n\n In our intimate times together, I found myself succumbing to thoughts of\nlust toward men and feeling immense guilt afterwards. Of course, I didn’t\ntell her<\/em> that. I knew it would hurt her deeply to discover that I\nfound men more arousing than her.<\/p>\n\n Ministry tangles<\/strong>\nFollowing seminary, I accepted a position at a small but bustling church.\nI was a competent preacher. Through God’s Spirit, my sermons had an\nimpact. I often heard how God was using particular messages to change\npeople’s lives. I was an effective administrator. I had a reputation\nfor doing things right. And I related well to the members of my congregation.<\/p>\n\n Pastoral care came easily for me. I was able to empathize with hurting souls\n(because of my own hurt?), and people opened up to me, often saying, “I\ndidn’t expect to tell you all of this.” One woman, hospitalized with\nsevere depression, told me when I visited her that the first Sunday she met\nme, she knew I understood pain.<\/p>\n\n To most people, I was perceived as having it all together, but I struggled\nfiercely many days just to keep my life together.<\/p>\n\n For years I remained outwardly faithful to my wife and my ministry. But inwardly,\nI was committing adultery on a regular basis. Only by God’s grace did\nI avoid crossing the line and not become involved with another man—and then\nonly because the right situation never presented itself.<\/p>\n\n For a few moments, \npornography gave me \nan escape, a rush, \nuntil the next wave \nof shame washed over me.<\/em><\/p>\n\n At times I was physically attracted to men I knew in the church. I usually\nfigured these feelings were safe because the guys were straight and there\nwas no potential for becoming involved. I ended one “accountability” friendship\nbecause I knew the man had the same struggle as I, and the potential for\nboth of us to fall was there.<\/p>\n\n Again, I coped with the pain through fantasy and masturbation. Pornography\ncontinued to be a constant battle. The temptation to drive by an adult bookstore\nwas there nearly every time I went to a meeting or made a hospital call.\nThough I seldom went in, it gave me a rush of adrenaline just to ride by.<\/p>\n\n The struggle was strongest when my wife was out of town. At times the struggle\nwas so strong that I would break out in a sweat and become physically ill.<\/p>\n\n After yielding, I usually confessed to my wife. It made me feel better; it\nmade her feel worse. I was too wrapped up in myself to realize what it was\ndoing to her as a person, how it was chipping away at her self-esteem and\nsense of security. She lived in a semi-state of fear that one day someone\nwho knew me would walk into a place and catch me looking at pornography.\nShe imagined me being thrown out of the ministry and our lives being turned\nupside down.<\/p>\n\n The breaking point<\/strong>\nAfter more than a decade of marriage, and what seemed a lifetime of emotional\nturmoil, I was near the end of my rope. A moment of lustful indulgence had\nled me to an adult video store on the outskirts of town.<\/p>\n\n As was my ritual, I absorbed the crude images and left the store in shame\nand disgust. But this time, the flood of guilt and frustration felt more\nacute. It was as if God had given me a glimpse of my pathetic descent from\nhis own perspective. I had to seek help, even if it meant risking that my\ncongregation would find out.<\/p>\n\n When I got home, I told Laura that I couldn’t keep living this way,\nthat I was going to make an appointment with a parachurch ministry in a nearby\ncity that helped those who struggled with homosexuality. She didn’t\nknow what to think.<\/p>\n\n As she spoke, fear and anger crept to the surface: “If someone from church\nfinds out, you won’t have a job. What would we do? How would you explain\nit to the kids?” She fell into a chair and began to cry. “Why can’t\nyou just get your act together and stop this?”<\/p>\n\n “I don’t know how to stop this,” I fired back. “I’ve tried. If\nthis church can’t handle this, then I don’t want to be a part of\nthis church.”<\/p>\n\n I continued, tears flowing, “My holiness and our marriage are more important\nto God than my job. And my holiness and our marriage are starting to become\nmore important to me as well. I need to take the risk.”<\/p>\n\n Hope at last<\/strong>\nThe counselor I began meeting with wanted me to attend a weekly meeting for\npeople struggling with homosexuality. I resisted for weeks, but I knew I\nneeded to go.<\/p>\n\n As I drove down the freeway to the first meeting, I was full of doubt. Inside\nme raged a war unlike anything I had ever experienced. This is the right\nthing to do. God will take care of you,<\/em> I reminded myself. But rearing\nits ugly head was my old nature shouting, “This is stupid ! What if you run\ninto someone you know? What if one of your parishioners is there?”<\/p>\n\n When I arrived, I wasn’t sure what I would find. What I discovered was\na group of men and women who looked like the same people I see at the local\nKmart. They looked a lot like me.<\/p>\n\n The first meeting ended with prayer for each member. We numbered off into\ngroups of four to share our needs and tell the others something about ourselves.\nTo my surprise God had orchestrated the numbering so that the ministry people\nwere in the same group: a pastor’s wife, a former youth pastor, a music\ndirector, and myself. I was floored.<\/p>\n\n At that moment, I knew God was there and that he was pleased I was there.\nI knew it was going to be okay.<\/p>\n\n For nearly two years, we learned about shame, temptation, and healing our\nwounded identities. We discussed what it means to be a man or a woman, and\nhow to develop healthy relationships. We shared with each other our hurts,\nfears, and failures.<\/p>\n\n In this setting the tangled mess of my life began to unfold. I was able to\nlay open my bleeding soul, my unresolved pain, and find understanding, love,\nand acceptance from people in the same situation. More than that, I began\nto receive hope that life could be different, that God could heal me.<\/p>\n\n But there were also times when I wanted to give up. Times when the healing\nwas too slow and painful. I had read the books, been to counseling, and gone\nfor months without looking at pornography, yet something would happen, triggering\na relapse into old habits.<\/p>\n\n One such time, I said to my counselor, “Change is not possible.”<\/p>\n\n “It’s okay to say this is extremely difficult,” he responded. “But do\nnot say it’s impossible.”<\/p>\n\n I began to let go of the hurts from the past. I had to offer forgiveness\nto those who had wounded me—my emotionally distant father, my controlling\nmother, my insensitive peers, and dozens of others who had wounded me. One\nby one, in the presence of my kind and loving counselor, I brought them to\nmind, forgave them, and released my pain to God.<\/p>\n\n One day my counselor asked, “When you think of God as a father, what do you\nthink of?”<\/p>\n\n His question caught me off guard. Nobody had ever asked me that before (and\nif they had, I probably wouldn’t have answered honestly). I thought\na moment and said, “He’s distant, and he’s disappointed in me.”<\/p>\n\n “And how does the Bible describe God, the Father?” my counselor asked.<\/p>\n\n The words I had learned as a child flooded my mind: “The Lord is merciful\nand gracious, slow to anger and abounding in loving kindness. He will not\nalways chide, neither will he keep his anger forever. Like as a father pitieth\nhis children so the Lord has pity on those who fear him. For he knows our\nframe, he remembers we are dust. As far as the east is from the west so far\nhas he removed our transgressions from us.” As I finished, tears welled up\nin my eyes.<\/p>\n\n “It sounds to me,” my counselor continued, “like you have an accurate perception\nof who God is in your head, but not in your heart. You’re seeing your\nheavenly father like you saw your earthly father. But that’s not what\nGod is like.”<\/p>\n\n I knew his words were true, but they were so hard to accept. Nevertheless,\na little bit of truth penetrated my heart. At that moment, I could clearly\nsee the path to wholeness.<\/p>\n\n Renewing mind and soul<\/strong>\nToday my wife and I are on the road to healing. For more than two decades,\nI feared hurt and rejection. Now, thanks to strong, Christ-centered counseling\nand the help of a compassionate male mentor who challenged me to make responsible\nchoices and held me accountable when I didn’t, I’ve begun to find\ntrue freedom as a man, husband, and minister.<\/p>\n\n Part of my recovery has involved taking more risks in developing friendships.\nIn doing so I’ve discovered how hungry I was for healthy friendships\nwith other men. As I became comfortable with healthy same-sex relationships,\nmy physical attraction to men diminished.<\/p>\n\n My relationship with my wife has changed as well. Our intimate times have\nimproved significantly, as I am now able to focus on her exclusively. I have\ndiscovered a positive sexual attraction for her that was sorely lacking in\nthe past.<\/p>\n\n Most important, God has revealed again and again that I need to grow in my\nrelationship with him. As I began spending more time memorizing and meditating\non God’s Word, I realized how many lies I had believed all my life—lies\nabout who I was, what gave me worth, and about God’s ability and willingness\nto change me.<\/p>\n\n These revelations have not only brought healing and hope to my personal life,\nbut they have injected new excitement into my professional ministry.<\/p>\n\n I once believed I was a homosexual because of my thoughts and desires. I\nbelieved I was stuck in that role and that I should see myself that way.\nI have since come to know that God sees me in Christ as a new creation (2\nCor. 5:17). I am not a homosexual. I am a Christian who struggles at times\nwith homosexual thoughts that have diminished considerably. But that is just\na part of who I am. It is not my identity.<\/p>\n\n I’d be lying if I said this process has been easy, or that I have arrived.\nIt will be a lifetime journey. But God has brought change beyond my wildest\ndreams. And I know he isn’t finished.<\/p>\n\n The author of this article is the pastor of a church in the\nMidwest.<\/p>\n\n Contact these Christian organizations for more information on dealing\n with homosexuality:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n Exodus International, P.O. Box 77652, Seattle WA 98177, (206) 784-7799; Web\n site: http:\/\/exodus.base.org<\/p>\n\n Mastering Life Ministries, P.O. Box 351149, Jacksonville FL 32235, (904)\n 220-7474; Web site: www.MasteringLife.org<\/p>\n\n New Hope Residential Program, P.O. Box 10246, San Rafael CA 94912-0246, (415) 455-9758<\/p>\n\n P-Fox (Parents and Friends of Ex-Gays), 1017 12th St. N.W., Washington D.C.\n 20005, (202) 371-2900<\/p>\n\n Or check out these books:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n Coming Out of Homosexuality: New Freedom for Men & Women<\/strong><\/em>\n by Bob Davies & Lori Rentzel (InterVarsity, 1994). A practical handbook\n for spiritual recovery and growth.<\/p>\n\n Not Afraid to Change: The Remarkable Story of How One Man Overcame\n Homosexuality<\/em><\/strong> by John Paulk with Tony Marco (WinePress, 1998).\n Paulk’s inspiring account of personal transformation offers lessons\n for others.<\/p>\n\n Setting Love in Order: Hope and Healing for the Homosexual<\/em><\/strong>\n by Mario Bergner (Baker, 1995). The author’s redemptive story of healing\n and restoration.<\/p>\n\n Sexual Healing: God’s Plan for the Sanctification of Broken\n Lives<\/em><\/strong> by David K. Foster (Mastering Life, 1995). A biblical plan\n for healing and change in the area of sexual brokenness.<\/p>\n\n Someone I Love Is Gay: How Family & Friends Can Respond<\/em><\/strong>\n by Anita Worthen & Bob Davies (InterVarsity, 1996). Insight for responding\n appropriately to those dealing with homosexuality.<\/p>\n\n<\/td>\n <\/tr>\n<\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n\n Copyright © 1999 by the author or Christianity Today\/Leadership<\/em> Journal.\nClick here<\/a> for reprint information on Leadership Journal.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\n
\n \nBreaking Free<\/strong>\n