The Legacy of America's Pastor and Harmful Rhetoric

TW: This post directly talks about depression, sexual assault and thoughts of suicide.

Do you ever hear something, and it suddenly makes you question what you thought you were completely sure of? Like you go through your day, you're out having a good time, when suddenly you think to yourself, "Did I leave the oven on?"

Growing up in my conservative Baptist home in west Texas, I frequently questioned a lot of what I was taught. Mom would frequently tell me, "You're too smart for your own good." Even before I knew I was gay, I was different on a level others and myself couldn't and still can't explain, though many are comfortable saying that I'm gay is the source of my difference. I was always the weird, quiet, nerdy kid who preferred the safety of books to the rejection of my peers. I guess existing outside the status quo is what enabled me to see the ways there might be something wrong with it.

My family always went to church--some of my earliest memories are sitting in a church pew with my brother and parents. For my parents, the greatest shame was being a "Back-row Baptist," a not-so-nice name for someone who only attends church for the big holiday service.

My mother was the biggest proponent of religion and going to church in our house. I know Dad was religious too, he was never as outspoken about it. Mom had a bookshelf stuffed and overflowing with books and memoirs by Joyce Meyer, Joel Osteen, devotionals, Bible studies. On the DVR, she had recordings of Pat Robertson on the 700 Club. When I was home schooled for a year and a half in junior high, some of my "academics" involved Bible studies as part of the curriculum my mother laid out for me. If it was a book on the Bible, or a book by a prominent Christian figure, my Mom probably owned it and read through it at some point in her life.

My Mom was and is the kind of person to think she's oppressed on the basis of her religious beliefs, but the extent to which she was actually oppressed was that Baptist ideology told her that Joyce Meyer, as a woman, should not be a pastor.

As a kid, I was taught by both the church and my parents that God is love, he is forgiveness, and everyone sins. We should always treat others how we want to be treated, and to always show others God's love, because his redemption is available and open to everyone who believes. I think every kid I knew growing up from this area has memories of singing songs while holding hands in a circle during morning church service.

As a teenager, I was taught by multiple pastors and my parents that "homosexuals" are the irredeemable work of Satan against God, and there's absolutely no hope for them, and that they should be shunned from all contact. I guess that explains why my mother told me when I came out to her, that she and my dad loved me and wanted what was best for me, but that it wasn't being gay, and also that they couldn't possibly accept it.

I wanted to be everything that I had been taught to be. It's a statement made by lots of LGBTQ+ people I know, but I thought something was wrong with me. I had been raised in what I thought was one of the best Christian households, constantly surrounded by religious examples, figurines, and crosses hanging on the walls. I read the Bible, went to church every week, and nothing changed for me. I was in heavy denial, but denial didn't mean I wasn't gay.

Billy Graham died on Wednesday, February 21st, 2018. I saw a Tweet yesterday where someone said she was speaking out on him now, after he was gone, because her words couldn't hurt him the way his had been used to hurt her. I tried to find the Tweet to give proper attribution, but going through the Billy Graham tag was filled with messages of love after he died, and it was too painful to look through those when his messages towards me and others like me were filled with hate.

To most people in the country, Billy Graham's name is synonymous with Christianity. He was frequently referred to as America's Pastor by leaders of the country. That same Twitter account I mentioned previously Tweeted, "If Billy Graham was America's Pastor, then Christianity is the religion of hatred." And I believe her, and echo her sentiments. Billy Graham laid out the stage for Christianity to be utilized as a battering ram to mow down LGBTQ+ people. Billy Graham famously made the statement that the 1980's AIDS crisis was a judgment orchestrated by God in an attempt to wipe out homosexuality, and it's a comment I've heard repeated multiple times, whether or not the person knows it was attributed to him.

Garrad Conley, in his memoir "Boy Erased," talks about how Graham's name was used in nearly every church of his youth, and after he was sent to conversion therapy camp, Graham's religious model was used to try and force them to change.

I was never sent to conversion therapy camp--I didn't even know what it was--but I was fearful of the immense and overwhelming number of possibilities that existed in my imagination. I was a member of an online forum dedicated to Christianity, and a friend I made there frequently talked about how in his early teen years, he had "homosexual desires" as he referred to them, but that God had taken them away from him because he had prayed and asked Him to. I never said anything about it to my friend, but I wanted the same thing now that I thought it was possible.

I laid awake at night for the greater part of my teenage years, wondering why God hadn't "fixed" me. Did I not have enough faith in God? Did I not pray enough? What was wrong with me? When your brain thinks those thoughts enough, believes there's something wrong or defective about you, it starts to teeter towards being suicidal. Some nights it wouldn't be that bad; I'd lie awake until 3 or 4 AM, praying at the edge of my bed until exhaustion took me and I fell asleep. Other nights, I'd try to come up with ways I could do it so that it wouldn't hurt, places I could go where no one could find me. And that's what my life was, from age 12 to probably 17 or 18. And even though I wasn't necessarily suicidal after that, it still took me a long time to really accept that I should be alive, should exist in this world.

I knew I shouldn't be thinking about ending my own life, and I was also afraid of going to hell since that's all that seemed to be waiting for me as a "homosexual." But I also felt I couldn't go to anyone for help, because if I told them why I was suicidal then they wouldn't talk to me anymore. Family is supposed to love you unconditionally, but I had been taught through multiple examples that my family's love was conditional. If I told them who I really was, that I wasn't what they had taught me to be, they'd never love me.

Throughout high school, I masqueraded as a happy, God-loving straight kid. There were times my friends, both church and non-church friends,were annoyed with my religious beliefs--I would call them out when they were doing something they knew was wrong, or try to "preach" to them. I think I thought if I believed more than them, prayed more than them, that God would finally decide to fix me, and I'd never have to tell anyone that I was gay, and even if I did, it would be something of the past. I was constantly on edge at home, at church, at school, putting on this act, because I worried if I slipped up that someone would say something. Billy Graham's kind of rhetoric was all around me.

And it wasn't just Billy Graham spewing harmful rhetoric. Joel Osteen said in an interview with Larry King that homosexuality is a sin, but he's not personally going to preach on it--the same man who had to be reminded he owned a megachurch which could seat 16,800 people during Hurricane Harvey last August. Joyce Meyer told King in a separate interview in 2005 that she believes the choice to be gay and to live a "homosexual lifestyle" is a choice, one she believes is the wrong one.

Franklin Graham, Billy Graham's son, has made statements on his website that Satan is directly behind LGBTQ activism, there is no place for compromise on same-sex marriage, and offered commendation for Russian leaders he says have "stood steadfastly against the rising homosexual agenda in their country." Franklin Graham also famously told his followers to "hold your noses and vote" for Donald Trump in the 2016 Presidential Election following Trump's "grab women by the pussy" comment.

Pat Robertson has made multiple hateful statements in his lifetime, on the 700 Club and on his radio show--there are too many to list in this post, but the one that I feel inspires the most hatred is his belief that all LGBTQ+ people must have gone through some sexual abuse in their life that made them the way they are. I think this one makes me the most angry because it means Robertson acknowledges that a lot of LGBTQ+ people are damaged, but refuses to acknowledge his own participation in causing that pain, and has to come up with a dangerous generalized statement to explain why.

I was abused, sexually assaulted, and someone even attempted to rape me. I was molested by the older son of a family friend who babysat me after school for who knows how long; then a classmate of mine sexually assaulted me from age 12 until he moved away when I was 13; then that same classmate later attempted to rape me one night when I was 19.

My own mother, in addition to a former close friend of mine, have used Robertson's words to try and explain the "reason" for my sexuality. Even strangers on the internet, people who don't even know what I look like, have made the assumption, "Oh, you were abused I bet; that's why you're gay." Would it make them feel more validated or like an asshole if I told them that I was? What kind of person needs the tragic qualifier of abuse to explain someone's sexual preference?

Last semester, I saw a counselor through Texas Tech's Student Counseling Center. I am thankful that Tech provides counseling services to students for free as long as they are attending. I was able to work through many of my issues with my family and my religious upbringing, and I'm so thankful for the opportunity to do so, because I didn't realize how much it was hurting me.

Over the course of several sessions, my counselor got a clear picture of what it was like for me to grow up in my parents' home. I laid out my fears, my feelings, and the past in front of her. She looked at everything I told her, and said that I was a survivor, that I was strong, and that it was important for me to remember in my current life that I don't need to just survive anymore--I need to live.

I don't know how I did it. Looking back on the thoughts that crossed my mind, the barriers that were in front of me, I'm amazed I even did survive when things looked so bleak. As a teen, I always wondered what quality of life awaited me in adulthood. If I was gay, would I ever know true love? Would I be able to get married? Would I be able to live freely?

I can say comfortably and happily that I can say "yes" to all of those questions. I know I'm happy and I'm loved by the man I chose to marry. I know that I'm able to live freely and follow my dreams as long as I have him by my side. The rest of it doesn't seem to matter as much.

If your past experiences, the way you were raised mimics my own in any way, then you're a survivor, too. If your current situation mimics my own, you're a survivor and you're strong, and you can talk to me anytime and I'll do my best to help you, because there is a better life on the other side of this pain. I know it's true, because I've seen it and I'm living it.

Ryan asked me a few days ago what I believed in religiously. I think either for my own sanity or just being indoctrinated with it, but I still believe there's something that created us and put us here, and that there's something after this life. I don't think the God I believe in, and the God that Billy Graham, Pat Robertson and the like worship are the same being. "God is love" is one of the defining tenements I've held onto throughout my life--I don't think of God as so sadistic and cruel that he would consciously create people who are gay, lesbian, bi, pan, ace, or trans and then have people in opposition. I very much believe that any kind of hatred in God's name is a product of human mistake and personal agenda, just like the Bible is. God didn't decide which Books made it into the Bible; humans did.

If you're reading this and believe in anything religiously, I hope you've made it to the end of this post without wishing ill on me. I don't want to be contrarian for the sake of it. I want to point out the effect hearing the kinds of things said by people in positions of religious authority have said about LGBTQ+ people. I want people to question the things people say, question the effect of words on the world at large.

For the most part, I want to believe in other humans. I also pay close attention to what is said, and I urge everyone else to do the same.