Growing up, I was always self-conscious about being the smallest kid in my class. Mom made it worse by always begging me to eat bigger meals.

“John, look at all these people staring at me,” she whispered to me one day on the bus. “They’re wondering why I don’t feed you more.”

When I was 13, my father got a job transfer from Calgary, Alberta to Thunder Bay, Ontario. That was a rough transition for me. I was just starting high school, and it was frightening.

The first day in my new school, a guy named Bill invited me to his church. I’d gone to Sunday School sporadically, and knew it would be a good place to find some new friends. So I started going every week with him to the United Church just down the hill from our school.

Later, in our Grade 10 Sunday School class, we were invited to a special six-week series of classes, to be followed by a special confirmation service for those who wanted to join the church.

I’ll never forget the sermon that Sunday morning, as I sat in the front pew with my class. “You’re not joining a club,” the minister told us. “What you’re really doing is giving your lives to Jesus Christ, asking Him to come in and take control.” I’d never heard that before.

“God,” I prayed, “if You’re really there, I invite You to come into my life. Please forgive me for my sins, and help me become the person You want me to be.”

As I prayed, something happened. Deep inside came an assurance that God was real, and I was overwhelmed with the feel- ing of being loved. I knew for sure that God loved me, little John Howard. It was an amazing experience.

After that service in April, 1963, I went to every possible church activity. I had a new hunger to read the Bible and pray. Church was suddenly a very important part of my life.

But at the same time, something else was happening, something hidden and troubling. As a young teen, I discovered a pile of old sporting magazines down in the basement. Flipping the pages, I was drawn to the Charles Atlas ads. Looking at the muscular body-builders, I thought: Now that’s what a real man looks like. I wish I could look like that.

Later, I accidentally discovered another magazine in a corner store, filled with scantily-clad men in seductive poses. I felt fascinated and sexually-aroused. Somehow I knew these feelings were wrong.

Thus, an inner conflict began that would continue for almost 20 years. On the one hand I prayed that God would take away these feelings for other men, while on the other I continued to find them enjoyable. I was too ashamed to tell anyone else what was happening inside me.

I had a lot of girlfriends during high school and felt very comfortable around them. Despite the increasing sexual desire for other guys, I assumed I’d eventually get married.

Then through school and church I met a girl named Vicki and we started dating. We married when we were both 21, but the conflict inside of me only increased. Often I’d have homosexual fantasies while I was being intimate with my wife, and secretly sought out magazines and books to feed my homosexual desires.

By this time, I was in seminary, training for the ministry. Vicki and I had our first daughter in 1972, then adopted a son. Later we had another girl. I deeply loved my wife and children, but the lustful thoughts were out of control. Although I didn’t want to lose my family, I felt an increasing desire to act out my homosexual feelings, to see if reality was the same as fantasy.

In the summer of 1974 on my way home from a conference, I was delayed in Winnipeg. Instead of staying with friends, I went to a hostel which had the reputation for homosexual activity.

Another man approached me for sex. After he left my room, I headed for the showers. I felt so guilty and dirty–and also afraid that I might have caught some kind of venereal disease.

Later that night, I knelt beside the bed and prayed. “God, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me for this awful sin. I promise I’ll never do it again. And please take away these wrong feelings.”

By this time, I was on staff at Collier Street United Church in Barrie, Ontario. I had to travel quite often to Toronto, running errands and doing hospital visitation. On these trips I had trouble staying out of the adult bookstores.

“God, please help me,” was my frequent prayer on the drive into Toronto. But once I got there, it felt like a giant magnet pulled me into the wrong places. I’d browse through the gay magazines and memorize the pictures, later fantasizing about what I’d seen. I felt angry and guilty–but I couldn’t stop.

Then I started driving past cruising areas and reading graffiti on bathroom walls. I knew if this behavior continued, I’d get drawn into homosexual activity again. Eventually, I’d get caught and lose my job and family.

Meanwhile at church, I was meeting regularly with ten small group leaders. Discussing problems in their groups as well as any personal issues, we got to know one another really well.

After one of these meetings, two of the women approached me. “John, we can sense you’re really struggling with something,” they said. “If you ever want to talk, we want you to know we’re here for you.”

I brushed them off. “Oh, no, everything’s fine. Thanks a lot.” Inside, I was scared. Other people can tell I have a problem, I thought.

During the next trip to Toronto, I ended up in an adult bookstore again. On the drive home, God spoke to me: “John, I’ve provided these people for you to talk with.” I called one of the ladies that night and said I needed to meet with them.

The following Friday, I talked to them all afternoon, pouring out my soul. They loved and accepted me, often crying with me as we shared together. We committed ourselves to meeting every two weeks. During the next year, the Lord worked in my life in a beautiful way.

These women became my support group. When I was going to Toronto, I could call them up and ask for prayer. That accoun- tability made a real difference. The addiction to pornography and immoral fantasies began to wane.

God showed me these sinful habits were unhealthy ways I dealt with negative emotions: stress, loneliness, anger, hurt feelings. He also helped me accept my body, to realize that it was His gift to me, not something to be ashamed of.

After a few months, I knew my wife had to know what was going on. One night before we went to bed, I finally confessed to her my struggles with homosexuality.

Vicki was hurt that I’d kept this part of me from her for so many years, but she supported my search for healing. And, although she was dedicated to our marriage, she knew any overt homosexual activity was adultery. “If I chose that behavior, I’ll leave you,” she told me. Knowing her limits was added motivation for me to never fall into adultery again.

The healing process continued over the months. I gradually told more people what I was dealing with, and they were very supportive. My senior pastor discovered a book with the address of an ex-gay ministry in the back. I wrote for materials and gobbled up the information.

In the spring of 1985, I attended a conference in Vancouver, Canada on the healing of homosexuality. It was so encouraging to meet and share with other ex-gays. “God,” I prayed that week, “if you want me to start a ministry to homosexuals, I’m willing.”

Then one morning on the news, I heard about the arrest of a man who’d been a Sunday School teacher in another city. He had been caught in homosexual activity. After saying good-bye to his wife and children, he’d gone out and killed himself.

I wept, knowing that, except for God’s grace, that could have been me. I also knew there were so many people struggling with homosexuality who had never heard there was hope for change.

“God,” I prayed, “if going public with my story can help prevent that kind of tragedy in one person’s life, I’m willing to do it.”

So, in January 1986, I started an ex-gay support group that is still going strong. It’s been exciting to see the changes that God has brought about in the lives of the people who have come.

God has continued to work in my marriage. Now I really enjoy the physical part of my relationship with Vicki, no longer needing homosexual fantasies for stimulation.

Compared to five years ago, my struggles with homosexual lust are virtually gone. I’m not afraid of temptation when it comes; I’ve learned how to successfully deal with it.

For so many years I struggled to deal with my homosexuality between just me and the Lord. Then I discovered that all along He had wanted to bring me healing through His people. I praise God that He led me to two loving Christians who were willing to be His instruments of healing and change.

And so it is true, as James wrote: “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” (James 5:16) Praise God!

By Scott Davis

Four years ago a close friend from my campus church told me that he had same-sex attractions. This was a first for me. I was shocked, confused, and completely unsure of how to relate to him. My questions ran the spectrum from intensely theological – what does this tell me, if anything, about his faith? – to the intensely practical – is it still ok for me to give him hugs? His questions ran much deeper. “Why me? Who am I anyway? Does God really love me? What now?”

For the last several years, I’ve sought answers not just to my own questions, but to the questions and needs of his heart, the other young men I’ve met who struggle with the same difficulty and of countless young men in my church who struggle, not with attraction to other men, but with lust, pornography and the impurity of soul that corrodes their lives. What does it mean to be a man in a world that emasculates us all with twisted images of sexuality and masculinity?

I stand, as a young minister at a college church, at what I consider one of the front lines in the battle for souls. We see the walking-wounded every day with fake smiles on their faces, dulling the pain with alcohol, sex and achievement. We see them every day in our church. It takes a little time and a lot of trust before they’ll drop their masks and let you see them as they are. At first I thought there was something weird about me that I attracted broken people. Eventually I came to accept the truth – THERE AREN’T ANY UNBROKEN PEOPLE. At the clear direction of God, and with the help of a great friend, I made my way to the Exodus 2002 Conference in Chicago last month. I was completely unprepared for what God was about to do in my life.

As you may have gathered, same-sex attraction is not something I struggle with. I went to the conference out of love for my friends and a deep desire to do something. I didn’t expect to be touched personally. The most I was hoping for was help starting a support group on my campus. God, however, had something else in store.

That week was a burning bush experience for me. It was a completely unexpected unveiling of God’s glory in the most unlikely way imaginable. I came to the conference to learn how to heal others; God healed my own soul. I came to gain ministry skills; God touched me profoundly with his presence. I came to learn how to help a fraction of my church; God taught me how to help them all.

When I arrived in Chicago I didn’t have a good idea of how to help my friends who struggled with same-sex attraction; I only had that knot in my stomach that urged me, “You’ve got to do … something!” By the time I left, I had a solid foundation for implementing a ministry to the sexually broken within my own church. The Exodus staff and ministry leaders were fantastic. They gave me a wealth of knowledge from years of experience in just a few short days: I learned about understanding the roots of same sex attraction, difficulties to expect in gender affirming ministries, how to help the broken find inner healing, and much more.

I also didn’t come to Chicago expecting a personal spiritual renewal, but that’s exactly what I got. The worship from God’s people in that place of humility and brokenness was astounding! The sense of God’s presence was unmistakable. We came as humble men and women deeply aware of our needs, and our Lord met us there. Well, many of us were already aware: I had to visit an Exodus conference to begin recognizing my own needs and wounds. God brought me to a new place of humility and awareness of his work in my own heart that weekend.

One of the most interesting things I learned at the conference is that men who struggle with same-sex attraction desperately need strong friendships with men who don’t. I’m ashamed that so many of God’s churches have relinquished their responsibility to help men and women walk out of homosexuality. Churches are the natural place for them to find spiritual healing and nurture and to develop healthy friendships with the same sex, but we reject and shun them. Even the most loving and well-meaning churches can tend to just ship them off to counselors when one of their greatest needs is simply for a good friend. I’ve seen in my own church the healing effect that a godly man who doesn’t have same-sex attractions can have on a man who does. We need to find the courage to get over our stigmas and warmly embrace homosexuals. Don’t you think Jesus would have?

Relating as equals
We’re not really all that different, you and I. Male or female, straight or gay (Jew or Gentile, slave or free for that matter): we’re all broken by this world, all smeared in our sin, all loved by God. I found friendship and brotherhood at the conference. I found that I could relate as equals with those who struggle with same-sex attractions, though my struggles are different. Was I ever uncomfortable? Certainly. But the family of God is a strong bond and my primary identity has never been “straight” – it’s been “God’s child.”

The Christian faith has always been a “camaraderie of the broken.” David, the man after God’s own heart, slept with another man’s wife. Solomon, the wise king, was led by his many wives to worship other gods. The woman at the well, whose life Jesus so tenderly embraced, had been married five times. The woman who anointed Jesus’ feet with oil was a prostitute. When did God’s family suddenly decide that only the “healthy” should be let in? We are the church, the broken ones, in the process of healing. We ought to see gays and lesbians flocking to our doors, joyfully leaving their lives of sin behind, because of our open-armed love for them. How did we ever become their enemies? We are their natural best friends! We are the outcasts, the broken – the church.

The gift of exodus
The basic needs of the men I met last month are no different from my own. They long for a deep and meaningful connection with a strong Father they can depend on. They long for a role model to show them how to be a true man. They ache inside for a healing power to touch their buried wounds and bring comfort. They need God – Father, Son and Spirit. My needs are no different.

Also, the needs of my church (pastors, are you listening?) are no different. We live in what may be the most sexualized society in history. You can’t walk down a street or turn on a TV without being bombarded with twisted sexuality. My generation has grown up infused with the notion that sex is the key to happiness and true satisfaction in life. What a sad lie that leads us to worship a twisted version of God’s beautiful gift of sexuality rather than the Creator himself.

My generation, and those coming after us, are sexually broken. Not just pedophiles and rapists. Not just gays and lesbians. All of us. Our culture is hyper-sexualized: why aren’t we speaking about it at least as frankly on Sunday mornings as they do on network television during “family hours?” Our church members are broken sexually in every way imaginable: can we give them the grace to bring their brokenness out into the light without condemnation? Our friends are wounded inside: will we trust God for their healing? It’s way past time for the church to begin responding with God’s love and truth in his power.

What God has given Exodus is a gift the wider body of Christ desperately needs. I experienced an atmosphere at the conference that I pray will infiltrate the church. We came as people who recognized our own brokenness and found courage together to let down our masks and open up old wounds. We talked about real life and sex and pain without any stigmas or taboos. We cried out for God to meet us there. And he did! Our God, our Healer, came in power on the broken and humble.

I pray that the body of Christ will become more like those broken men and women whom I met in Chicago. You should come next year. You really should.

by Jim Pace

Ready to Weigh In

After you have been misquoted for a while, don’t you just get to the point where you want to weigh in?  Homosexuality is one of those issues where I feel like my personal views as an apprentice of Jesus Christ are often misquoted.  People like me don’t tend to take out letters in the paper or hold sandwich signs during Gay Rights Day.  I stand back and watch as the louder voices on each side of the issue get the press coverage.   It seems like all that I get is misunderstood, mischaracterized, and maligned.  And there is a growing group of people like me.

During a Fall Semester, the church I help pastor, New Life Campus Fellowship or [nlcf] at Virginia Tech, decided it was time to get our opinion on the table.   When I read about the woman caught in adultery, or how Jesus approached Zaccheaus, or even how he was seen as a friend of sinners, I wondered how he would have dealt with the issue.  I neither wish to give up my personal pursuit of holiness and Christ-likeness as I understand the Holy Scriptures call me to; nor do I wish to give up my newfound mercy that I am still learning to wield.

We wrestle with the culture, feeling called to adapt to their message of “acceptance.” We are criticized that we have narrow understanding, and are limited by our own cultural bubble.  It brings to the question, “Do our kingdom values not trump culture?” And, “Are we ready to face the mockery from many by exerting our boldness to represent what genuine godliness looks like?”  These are very tough issues.

“Most of the time it is easy to determine where our culture departs from kingdom values…However, sometimes the hardest part is trying to determine what our kingdom values are.”

- William Webb,  Slaves, Women and Homosexuals

Deciding on this issue seems to come down to either denying civil rights or condoning clear sin.

Our approach and our challenges

Ready to weigh in, our church mailed out powerful invitation mailers to all the apartments in town to come to our “Hate People” series.  This would be a dialogue about the accusations against the Christian faith that many have held throughout history. Instead of being known by love, Christians have often been known best as being the hate people.  We wanted to weigh in on our misquoted views about God hating people who follow other religions, homosexuals, the environment and women.

“Hate is something we notice.  The pictures of it grab our eyes and the stories about it stick in our minds.  We don’t like haters.  Throughout history the church has been seen as a hateful place, sometimes fairly, sometimes not.  Some might even call us “The Hate People.” Maybe we [the church] are just like you have always thought and maybe we are not.”  – Premise for the Series

In our pursuit, it became clear that much of the evangelical community and the gay community are pretty distinct, rarely even communicating.  We wanted to connect with leaders from the gay community in order to try to understand their perspective better.  We learned quickly from meeting with a new friend of mine, Jason (name changed), that we can easily and unnecessarily step on toes.

A kinder, gentler tone

Jason shared with me about the difficulty of being a gay teenager.  He agreed with statistics I shared about the physical and verbal abuse they face, saying every one of his friends was abused.

He explained to me how the gay community feels misunderstood by the media, just as conservatives do.  They feel that people unfairly limit them to their sexual identity.  Jason asked me to consider what it might be like to try to go to a church to find out about God only to hear the pastor open up in a tirade about you and hear a whole chorus of “Amen”s from all over the room.

Now, clearly the gospel will smell like death to those that are perishing.  It just made me wonder – Can our words be more gentle while not relinquishing our convictions?

The other side

I asked him to describe how he – and perhaps the gay community – views the Christian community.  He admitted that they have their Christian jokes just like those in the Christian community have gay jokes.  He would see us overall as uninformed, overly traditional, holding on to the irrelevant moral high ground for no reason other than we heard that is how we ought to believe.   And maybe the hardest thing, we think we understand something that clearly we do not, and we don’t care to learn more.  He said overall he found church to be irrelevant in his pursuit of God and seemed to care little about pursuing him.

Now some of his views were skewed and unfair.  He made generalizations that could reflect his own misinterpretation of us.  He understood little of us and had little desire to understand more.  The idea that I could feel that his sexual orientation was wrong and yet not look down on him for it seemed almost foreign.

The reality is that this issue is not new.  The Christian community is largely uncomfortable around the gay community and the gay community finds us largely irrelevant in their pursuit of God. Quite an accomplishment.

Is God pleased with what we have done?

Einstein is noted as saying, “Insanity is doing the same thing you have always done and expecting a different result.”  So we set out to try a different approach.  Our leadership spent time preparing and seeking God on this issue we felt led to discuss.  We wrestled with some tough questions:

Can we show the complexity of this issue and how divisive it can be, point to areas of misunderstanding, while honoring the scriptures that we believe to say homosexuality is wrong? Can we disagree congenially?  Is there any room at all for discussion, for connections to be made?

Our sense of God’s leading in this is that if we did things a bit differently, maybe it could work.

“Do you hate me?”

Leading up to the event, we found out that the gay community leadership from campus and the community were going to scout out what we would say in the morning gathering, and then show up en-masse in the evening.  They would be wearing t-shirts saying, “Do you hate me?”  It was the first time I have been really nervous in quite a while before speaking publicly.  They came that evening and sat right in the front section. We started with a performance of a speech from the Larime Project, the play written about Matthew Shepard’s murder.  It was a scene, where Fred Phelps, the highly publicized pastor was yelling about God hating homosexuals.  We asked if this is how the gay community sees the church, to set up that the stereotypes run both ways.

“Do you hate me?”

I stood up and answered for the sins of the Christian community.  How we often misunderstand them, can be afraid of them, and how we can make fun of them.   Then, to the question posed by the shirts: “Do we hate you?” we answered, “Of course not.”  But we were honest that as followers of Christ, and as a leadership team of [nlcf], we do feel that homosexuality is wrong based on the Scriptures.  We ventured to talk about why it is so much more complicated.

Different Perspectives

During the time I spoke, I addressed the issue that people in the room would have different opinions.  I wanted to point out that disagreement did not have to be harmful, but could be a place from which to strive to understand each other better.

For discussing the scriptures, I shared our church’s views, and used a format for discussion based on the Webb text I quoted earlier.   While some may not agree with all the points made, Webb’s discussion of the gay issue and of the redemptive or progressive hermeneutic is excellent.

I shared that every believer should consider how God would have us reflect His nature in our response to homosexuality.  His focus is very much on our hearts.

The Pledge

At the end we closed with a pledge proposal.  We acknowledged that both sides have been unnecessarily cruel and ignorant of the other.  I first addressed the Christian community, asking them to agree that for ten years they would not allow someone in their midst to make a gay joke, a demeaning generalization.  That they might commit to showing Christ-like love to the gay community, protecting them and not allowing harassment; to stand up for the right to be treated with kindness even if we disagree with their views on the gay lifestyle.

I then asked the gay community to reciprocate.  As a Christian, I have been made fun of, had my intelligence strongly questioned and have been unfairly categorized myself.  This harassment happened because I have chosen to follow and be committed to Jesus Christ.  So I asked if they would protect me.  I asked if they would put a stop to the Christian jokes and characterizations.

Results

Afterwards, many of the members of the gay community hung around for quite a while and we interacted.  The leader of the gay community said that she was shocked, having never experienced someone disagreeing with her and yet publicly stating they would defend her against unfair treatment.  She told us that she would refer people exploring their spirituality to our church.  I was invited to speak on a panel about morality and culture as a representative of the Christian faith.

Unfortunately, we have had a number of our members leave as a result of our approach.  We learned to do even more discussion with our leaders to explain why this issue needs to be discussed and about our approach.

But most of our leaders and members have said they are so glad that [nlcf] deals with these issues.  We found it galvanized the faith of many.   Several members of the gay community began attending our church or others in the area.  Many members of our church who were hiding their struggle with their sexuality have had the courage to declare that struggle and begin to allow God’s love and power and the church’s help to begin to walk through and away from it.

And now Jason comes to a bible study.  He doesn’t agree with a lot of it.  But it’s a start.

–

Jim Pace has been a pastor of New Life Campus Fellowship, or [nlcf], since 2002. Jim is a gifted counselor, coach and strategist, pastoring along side of Chris Backert.  Jim lives with his family in Blacksburg, VA, home of Virginia Tech’s campus.

To find out more about [nlcf], you can visit them on the web at www.nlcf.net. Exodus can help connect you with the pastors of [nlcf] by contacting our office.

by Patrick Payton

I was fresh out of seminary, pastoring a church plant that had quickly outgrown our facility and was beginning to plan for two services. At Stonegate Fellowship we communicated a message of truth that Jesus Christ changes lives, and it seemed the message was getting across. We shared openly that Stonegate was a place where people could bring the baggage of their past; that we would love them and walk with them into the journey of new life offered through a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. We all have a story, and what really matters is personally knowing and loving Jesus and loving one another. And so, outside of the many struggles that come with starting a new church, we were excited and expectant about what God was doing in our city and church. Then, Mike and Stephanie Goeke visited my office and a new day began not only for Stonegate Fellowship, but for me.

Many people in our church and city knew some of Mike and Stephanie Goeke’s story. Most knew of their separation, the impending divorce and the miraculous restoration. But what many did not know was the story this couple had never shared with anyone – especially anyone inside the church. The Goekes sat in my office and, with voices full of fear, began to take me at my word. They had heard what we believed as a church and what we said; now, they were going to test it and see if we meant it.

Mike calmly shared the well known story of how he had left his wife. But this day the story went deeper. Over the course of several minutes, Mike began to detail for me how his almost lifelong struggle with homosexuality was the part of the story no one knew anything about. He shared with me the first time someone called him ‘gay.’ He detailed for me the struggles he had all through high school and college – struggles that he eventually buried and carried into his marriage.

Perhaps most discouraging, he detailed for me his loneliness and fear especially in the local church. He detailed for me how the very place he should have been able to find help he found mostly hate, indifference, fear and foolishness. Mike and Stephanie even shared their fear of telling me as they were almost certain that their days of service at Stonegate Fellowship were over. But quite the opposite occurred. Following several weeks of very intense and sometimes personal attack and struggle about the importance of sharing this real life story in the Body of Christ, I had this precious couple share their story in front of our entire church family. It was a day I will never forget.

The auditorium was packed with Stonegate members and with Mike and Stephanie’s friends from throughout the community. Our church was filled with people who thought they were there to hear a “normal” story about how Jesus had saved a marriage. Not only was Stonegate Fellowship changed, but a pastor was changed as well.

I was amazed at what happened that Sunday morning. After the service people would not leave. So many stayed to talk with Mike and Stephanie about family members struggling with homosexuality and asking what they could do. Men whom I knew to be very upset about what the Goeke’s were going to share were in tears asking for forgiveness from Mike and Stephanie. And the hope I saw on the faces of so many was astounding. I saw in the eyes of people something of a new hope that said “if Jesus could do this in Mike and Stephanie’s life, then surely He can change my life.” Things were changing in my heart as well.

First, I knew from the beginning that my characterization of homosexuality had been wrong. My ideas about homosexuality were formed from the harsh rhetoric of evangelical speakers and the images of mainstream media. I never once thought about white collar professionals like Mike Goeke who had been suffering with this issue for decades and were drowning in a sea of anonymity right under the nose of the church. Men, and women, living two lives, desperate for help but finding none anywhere they looked. After all, homosexuality was the “worst” sin and surely of a different sort than “normal” sins like taking one too many drinks, cheating on taxes, lusting after women, breaking the speed limit or failing to tithe! I had bought into a way of thinking that set homosexuality apart as the leprosy of the 21st century rather than another destructive sin used by the Satan to steal away full and meaningful life from those who would follow Jesus. From this moment on, at least for this pastor, homosexuality would not be the serious sin of the worst sinners, but rather another sin destroying the lives of everyday people of all social classes.

I also learned that my words were killing those most needing the healing touch of the Savior. On another Sunday, not long after the Goekes shared, I was waxing eloquent about an especially popular couple at the time who were openly proud lesbians. I boldly referred to them as perverts and continued on without skipping a beat. Within days Mike stopped by my office to let me know that when I used words like pervert and queer, I further alienated those so desperately desiring help from the local church. As much as I wanted to defend myself I could not. I was damning the very ones Jesus died for by my harsh words. The more I thought about it the more I realized Jesus never called anyone names, except the religious elite of His day. He certainly never called the woman we read about in Luke 7 a whore! He just let her wash His holy feet and taught a humiliating lesson to Simon the Pharisee. As much as I hated to do it, I stood in the pulpit the very next Sunday and issued an apology to our congregation for labeling sinners rather than just labeling sin. I vowed to never make this mistake again.

I was learning some new things about confession and community as well. Jesus changes a life in an instant, but it takes a lifetime of walking in the new, crucified life in a community of Christ-followers called the local church to really experience the transformed life Jesus came to offer. But for so many like me, we have grown accustomed to acting like transformed people should act, while deep down inside we are dying a slow death because we are afraid to talk about our struggles. We fear we will be perceived as spiritual losers. After Mike and Stephanie shared the rest of their story, the gauntlet was thrown down in my life, and the life of our church. That gauntlet simply represented the fact that Stonegate would be no place for fakers. We would lean heavily on each other with our deepest struggles so that, as a community of Christ-followers, we could share the life of Christ with each other.

But to this day Stonegate Fellowship’s greatest reward and my own was the privilege of modeling restoration and transformation as we hired Mike Goeke to come on staff as our Executive Pastor just several months after our great Sunday. Mike has become one of my most treasured friends and partners in life and ministry and none of this would have happened had we not decided that Stonegate would be the community of Jesus Christ it was called to be – a place where baggage can be dropped off and a new life can begin – for everyone.

Bill Hybels once said, “The church is the hope of the world”. I believe this now more than ever and have a friend and brother in Christ to prove it.