Faith in Transition

I spent my youth sitting in Missionary Baptist pews, often wondering whether God was with me or above me. Although I always paid credence to the saying that “God doesn’t make mistakes,” I still felt out of place in church – never quite whole with my self and sexuality. I always felt imperfect, alone and often questioning why such a flawed young vessel was given such a heavy burden of being attracted to the same gender.

I was fortunate. I didn’t grow up in a church that made sexuality a focus in teaching the Gospel. Nevertheless, the undercurrent of shame was always in the shadows. With the coming of each year more and more questions arose. The more I learned about my sexual self, the more I came to question God. I questioned His purpose for me, which in turn depreciated my self-worth with each passing prayer.

I remember making mental notes of the contradictions that didn’t seem to reflect my own reality. Miracles seemed to happen for everyone else but me. Before my teenage years, I use to pray that God would bless me by changing my physical self to match my attraction to the same gender. I remember praying before going to bed for what seemed like months. Finally, after many disappointing nights, my faith in miracles subsided.

I left the church and organized religion after heading to college. The Sunday Bible School mandate I had lived with for 18 years was over. But the bonds were still there. The extended family and sense of community had unknowingly impressed upon me morals and values. Even my sense of social justice, activism and community organizing were all based on the foundation my church and family provided.

It took a while for me to learn that my faith was never in doubt, just in a state of transition. My love for Jesus Christ had never wandered; it just took more of a spiritual path. I’ve learned that it’s okay to question translations of the Bible. It’s even okay for me to question the application of Christianity to my everyday relationship with God as a same-gender-loving man of African descent.

Through this constant questioning, I admit to loving Christianity more so today than ever. No more am I worried for the souls of billions who won’t know the joy of God because they haven’t been “saved.” I no longer pray for impractical miracles to make me whole.

Today, I constantly seek God in every aspect of people by cherishing the person I see in the mirror. I know God is with me, and not some mythical deity hovering above. Hence, my faith has grown, and it has allowed me to embrace my full humanity, with all the nuances that make me unique to this earthly experience. I am a proud black, same-gender-loving man who knows that God is love. And He sure loves this flawed vessel.

(c) Johnny Jenkins Jr.