Unapproachable Light

Since the album “Friends and Foes” was released this past Christmas, I’ve been fielding a lot of private messages with questions regarding my sexual orientation due to a song called “Lay Your Burdens Down.”

The simple answer to those questions is: Yes, I am gay.

I know this may catch some of you off guard or confirm some long held suspicions - or maybe you simply don’t care. Either way, it is something I haven’t felt the need or desire to share publicly until now. This is perhaps the most terrifying thing I have ever done in my adult life and it came down to a decision between my career and my integrity. I realize by sharing this I may have just destroyed everything I have built this past decade. Seeing as today is my birthday, it’s fitting that this marks the end of a journey and the beginning of new one.

When we released our first album in 2007, we were immediately classified as a Contemporary Christian band because I happened to write songs about my faith. Even Wikipedia labeled us as such. While I never considered us as exclusively part of the CCM genre, I realized that we were now in a position to have a profound impact on peoples’ faiths. For this reason, I kept my orientation to myself for the past 10 years of my music career. I did not want to be publicly identified by something that’s only a part of what makes me who I am.

The other reason I kept it to myself was for the sake of the other people playing in my band. Every member was aware of who I was and they were all supportive, even though most of them held traditional theological stances. Because of this, it felt unfair to subject them to the inevitable questions and scrutiny that would accompany a public declaration of my orientation. It wasn’t their battle to fight and I did not want to jeopardize their ability to make a living as musicians. That is why when Andrew planned to leave this past year, it felt like the right time to share it.

One of my early memories of Sunday school was a teacher telling my junior high class that homosexuals were possessed by the devil. That statement would shape the way I related to God for the next decade of my life. I wrote “Lay Your Burdens Down” during the pinnacle of that struggle when I was convinced that God hated gay people - even celibate ones or ones trying to “cure” themselves. I saw it as a horrible curse – a predetermined condemnation for those destined for God’s wrath. And there was plenty of rhetoric coming from certain parts of the church to bolster this idea. I felt incredibly alone even though I had come out to most of my close friends and family. At the time I could only write the first two verses and choruses and then I shelved the song for 2 years. I didn’t know how to end the song because I had no answer for the question I was asking: “Does God love me?”

It was the question I had been asking myself for most of my life. The one question I agonized over late at night when I prayed to what often seemed like a silent and absent God. And then one day the words came to me for the 3rd verse:

They say I’m ruined but I’m only human They say it could be Satan, but God, I’m your creation What is and isn’t sin, I’ll let it go and let you in All this time I was praying, all this time you were saying: “Come lay your burdens down on me.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks and I burst into tears as I sang it. The revelation fundamentally changed my perspective not only on homosexuality but on Christianity as a whole. I had spent the greater part of my life trying to appease the wrath of a God who wasn’t even angry at me.

I used to be the king of religious behavior modification. I thought if I was holy enough, pure enough, chaste enough, God would tolerate me in spite of my “struggle.” But my legalism quickly spread like a disease to others in my life. I would feel actual rage when I saw other Christians behaving in ways that I thought were not in step with holy standards. I was jealous of their freedom so I tried to oppress them with my own enslavement and self-loathing.

But over time I began to realize that the heart of Christianity was not primarily about behavioral change. It’s firstly about spiritual change. It is about making a broken soul whole again and restoring its connection with the divine. Something that religious law could never do. The power of the gospel isn’t about scaring people out of hell but healing and restoring people from within. The Christian’s piety is not a result of strict adherence to rules, but the inevitable fruit of a soul that knows it is loved and forgiven by God.

I don’t know all the answers and I am by no means the spokesperson for all gay Christians. I didn’t come out to make a political statement or to criticize the church. I came out because I hear stories every month about people like me who want to die because they think God hates them. And when I think about how awful it felt as a 12 year old crying late at night while my family was asleep, I want to use whatever limited influence I have to give someone like me a little bit of hope. I am still learning in my own journey, and all I can be certain of is that God’s love must be foundational in that pursuit. If we withhold God’s love from those who we deem unworthy of it, then the gospel has no power and it is just impotent religiosity.

Whether homosexuality is sin or not is of little importance to me nowadays. It’s not that I don’t think it’s an important question, it’s just not the most important question. I have learned that it is often our obsession with sin avoidance that prevents us from ever really pursuing God himself. Still, some of you are probably curious where I have landed theologically on this issue.

The truth is, I really don’t know. And I hope there is room in the dialogue for that uncertainty. As far as my own personal life is concerned, I have been single and will continue to be single for the forseeable future. Not because I am convinced of homosexuality’s sinfulness but because I am at peace with my solitude. I’m not looking for a relationship because I no longer buy into the cultural narrative that you have to be married and have kids to fulfill your life’s calling… or to be happy. That may be an unsatisfactory answer for those of you who like definitive lines, but it is my honest answer. If you are convinced that homosexuality is indeed a sin and think that my stance is too soft, then by all means you are entitled to believe that. But whatever your beliefs may be, not a single one of us has the power to exile someone from the fold of God. And if there is wrongdoing to be reckoned with, I have faith that God is good enough and merciful enough to deal with our mistakes. All any of us can do is live the best lives we can with the information we have at hand.

I have never seen the world more divided than it has been in the past few years. We have stopped listening to one another and we relentlessly declare rhetorical and literal wars on those we disagree with. There was a time in my childhood when my best friend told me he would kill a homosexual if he ever met one. Today, he is the first one to stand in harm’s way to defend me and people like me. That didn’t happen from arguing with him or hurling insults at him. It happened because one summer after college I told him my story. I showed him the humananity behind the homosexuality. I told him about the loneliness, the constant feeling of condemnation no matter how hard I tried to be good. I told him how one night I sat on a bed with a knife in my hand contemplating ending my life because I thought God had forgotten me. My story materialized something that he had always seen as an unrelatable enigma. It didn’t change his mind. It changed his heart.

For those of you out there who feel like there are parts of you that are too terrible or shameful for God, those of you who have cried yourself to sleep wishing you had been born a different person, I have been in those same dark places and I will shine a light for you as you find your way. Unload that heavy weight you’ve been carrying. It doesn’t matter if you are gay, straight or somewhere inbetween; your story and journey matter regardless of how different or abnormal it appears. Anyone who tells you God hates you has never really known him.

The devil’s greatest deception is convincing us that only another person can determine when we are worthy of love. But no mortal man or institution is the gatekeeper to the heart of God. All that he asks of us is this: “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Love one another and be free,

I’m tired. This day has been so tiring for me, even more so than the entire rest of the election. It’s ironically not for the reason people think, and I apologize if this post is kinda unorganized. There’s just so much on my mind. What’s worn me down and discouraged me so much today is not actually the fact that Trump won the presidency, it’s the way most (at least on my FB feed) Clinton supporters have reacted to the results.

Back in September of 2015, a certain #bots approached this bibliophile (#books), asking to begin a journey together. His request was met with petitions of patience, a time for melding of the head and heart to unite, a response of an eventual yes.

Four blissful seasons ushered times of learning about one another, of joining various social circles, of serving each other as well as alongside the other. But perhaps most fundamentally, it was a season of unpacking the word commitment. Its etymological roots is a bridge of two Latin words - com (together) + mittere (to send). From that lens, it upholds a fundamental truth in marriage in a commitment not only to one’s spouse, but also to a larger mission.

As I once alluded, singleness was a joyous season of understanding myself and the calling God had placed me specific to my geography, vocation, and community. And for a number of years, it involved a nomadic life, pitching tents in one city after another, life packed in boxes and suitcases, and one of full potential because of the unrestricted freedom in being single.

But a time eventually came with a calling not to go, but rather to stay - the calling of placing down roots, of continuity and longevity. Though perhaps less glamorous or remarkable, this was still a mission, a harvest at hand. I began to understand true change in philanthropy isn’t about the sum amount of dollars, the glitz of an organization - but the tenacity and perseverance of staying constant, continual, changing little by little. 

For #bots, his harvest was in academics, where rational and logical sense was a stumbling block to the brightest of minds from the truth of the gospel. Never had I seen a man utilize his education and profession with such intention in preaching, evangelizing, and sharing the gospel as true good news. Coupled with his extroversion in welcoming newcomers, volunteering for any need by the church, His love for God and humanity was genuine and undeniable.

I repeatedly told God and others the only way I’d come out of my singleness was if I could believe and envision a life together that would accomplish more for God’s kingdom than either of us alone. It meant that we had to both be acutely aware of our individual mission, talents, and shortcomings. It meant that we both had to be eternally minded and focused, prioritizing God and His Kingdom above all else. 

Perhaps that was part of the reason #booksnbots progressed at such an expedient pace with confidence - that though there may still be battles ahead and uncertainties, we were grounded with a common vision, a common mission greater than ourselves. A longer dating period would be a trap rather than an ally, allowing greater temptation to cross boundaries, to leave an exit door ajar, to live separate rather than unified lives. 

It was in God’s beautiful providence that He brought me a man who was equally unorthodox in consciously opposing the rules and conventions set by the wedding industry. It was also in God’s providence that a wrench was thrown in our original elopement plan of going to a courthouse wedding, causing us to reconsider that there is significance in how we entered into this rite of passage of marriage.

We started our wedding planning with a question:

What is the message we want to deliver through our wedding? 

Our answer was simply this - an appointment and proclamation of being sent out together into a harvest (Luke 10:1-4). Every action and tradition we included and excluded needed to stay consistent with that answer. From choosing our location in #bots’ house, to entering down the stairs together, to our declaration of intent and our exchanging of vows, to having our community speak words of blessings and prayers over us.

We sent out invitations notifying our friends and family with a 3-day notice of our makeshift wedding. In the 3 days, we saw our church community come through in such incredible fashion - food, flowers, and decorations were organized without our knowledge; people came an hour before the event started to set up and stayed afterwards to tear down and move my boxes/bed into our new home; friends remotely logged online to watch our livestream video as virtual witnesses. It was as perfect of a wedding as I could have imagined with a plethora of love and gratitude that will forever render me speechless.

This, we believed, was the essence of our marriage, stripping away the frills, the pomps and circumstances to uphold and uplift the intention of marriage - of giving acknowledgment and glory to our good God, of our community coming and serving together, of remembering this day that I chose to enter into this marital covenant and commitment to this man.

Hold onto this day Keep inside your heart such faith We’ll walk along the path God made.

Matthew Mole - The Wedding Song

Dear #bots,

I once asked what the most encouraging thing someone could say to you and you told me this:

Thanks for listening to me & sticking with me. My life wouldn’t be the same without you.

So #bots, thank you. Thank you for listening to me & sticking with me. Truly my life wouldn’t be the same without you.

I echo these words as declaration of my first vow to you – to be your lover and companion, your greatest earthly encourager. I promise to gift you with words of kindness and gratitude, words to affirm and not afflict, to provide you courage in your commitment to God and His people.

This leads to my second vow, returning to the origins of the word ‘commitment’ in being sent out together. I vow to commit myself as your life partner, to go with you into this mission and adventure awaiting before us. I promise to be your accomplice and not your adversary, to persevere and fight alongside you always.

But when conflicts arise, and they will, I promise to seek reconciliation and not retaliation, to blanket forgiveness on our flaws. I promise to believe the best of you, and even when you fail, to believe in the redeeming work of Christ still being done.

One of the saddest things I find in the body of Christ is when the sons of God do not lead the daughters of God. I find this to be true of romantic relationships or just friendships in or out of the church. There’s a plethora of males who are biologically “men” but just do not have a grasp of what it is to be a man of Christ. 

Men who don’t know how to lead, don’t know how to love, don’t know how to commit. The common trait is a hiding and withdrawal from community. For those in relationships, they retreat to be alone with the girl. No one knows what goes on behind closed doors nor do they seek out OR heed counsel. They put the majority of their comfort, protection, encouragement and attention into the girl financially, emotionally, physically but not spiritually. 

In the end, whether or not this is within their control, the women lose out. The man who does not love a woman biblically - portraying the relationship between Christ and his church - lives selfishly.