By James Rutherford, Reprinted from Urban Family, Fall, 1994

January 1995 – Even knowing homosexual behavior is sinful, dangerous and potentially deadly, I didn’t manage to give it up before I contracted AIDS.

I had always felt that God had a call on my life. I knew He had a ministry for me and that my lifestyle was drawing me away from that. A couple of years ago I began to feel that call even more strongly, and I decided to leave the homosexual lifestyle. I had struggles and there were times when my resolve failed. But I was trying, and I knew I had to find a church where I could hear God’s word, and build myself up spiritually.

One rarely abandons the gay lifestyle without feeling pain, loneliness, and a void. Changing those habits without the support of strong compassionate Christians is incredibly difficult. But finding a Christian church willing to help me get healing was more difficult than I expected.

Some churches I attended made me feel more condemned than loved. There were incidents that demonstrated subtle rejection, petty behavior that communicated that I was not welcome, and verbal and nonverbal expressions of fear, unacceptance – and even outright hate.

Many Christians are afraid, not only of homosexuals, but of dealing openly with the issue of homosexuality. I have observed people within the church, even pastors, who seem to have a kind of “stay away from me and we’ll be fine” attitude. Their silence and unwillingness to interact make it hard to seek help and counsel from the very people who could make the most difference.

If you’re gay, many men seem to think that if they shake your hand, you’re going to start chasing them; or if you look at them the wrong way, people will start to question their manhood. People shouldn’t fake friendliness they don’t feel, but a Christian who can’t genuinely shake someone’s hand and welcome him into the house of God is missing something.

Above all people, Christians ought to be willing to handle all kinds of people and situations. After all, the word of God says, “Perfect love casts out fear.”

There doesn’t have to be a special church ministry for homosexuals. We don’t have to know everything about the private areas of struggle in each other’s lives. But there should be a place of safety somewhere within the church where we can confess our sins and ask for specific help. We need to show compassion, and try to build each other up to the point where we can tackle individual weaknesses.

Not long ago I attended a church where the people were very welcoming. I felt the love of the congregation. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

The people made me feel accepted, and that they were glad I came. I know there were some members who had heard rumors about me, but that didn’t prevent their reaching out and making a place for me to worship and grow in their midst.

Once the pastor asked us to stand up and shake each other’s hands. One man in the congregation, a nice, married man with young children, came up, shook my hand, and hugged me. That made me feel like a million dollars. His actions said, “I love you unconditionally.” It was unsaid but it was felt.

The church doesn’t have to accept homosexuality as anything other than sin. But the pastor should stress to the members that we have all fallen short of God’s glory, and try to get them to think like Jesus – what attitude would he have taken towards homosexuals?

When Christ met the woman at the well (John 4) she reminded him that as a Samaritan, a woman, and a “sinner,” he shouldn’t even be talking to her. But Christ didn’t say, “Oh, that’s right!” and move away. While he showed her that he was aware of the sinful condition of her life, he had an attitude of open arms, acceptance, and peace-making. Reaching her with the good news was more important to him than whether somebody saw him talking to the “wrong” kind of person.

You don’t have to condone someone’s actions to minister to their need. But you have to have the kind of love Christ had, going beyond “what I do” to reach out to “who I am.” And that’s when you can show me God’s hopes for who I can be.