I Messed Up (from June 25th, by Melinda Sparks-Renner)

By Melinda Sparks-Renner

My son, Sam, was outed by his Science teacher when he was 13 years old. The teacher told me this in private, during a conversation about Sam’s grades and his struggles to keep up in class. She told me Sam was too focused on his confusion about his sexuality, and it was causing him to slip in his grades.  She also told me, “I know you are a Christian, and I am too. If this were my child, I would want someone to tell me.”
     I had been slowly deconstructing pieces of my faith for five years by then. But I hadn’t worked through this part - Is God okay with people being gay? I knew the scriptures backward and forwards. 6-7 passages speak of it: Leviticus, Romans, I Corinthians, 1 Timothy, and Jude.  Just 6-7 passages. But I believed these passages. This is what I knew, what I had been taught, and what I had come to believe as Truth through my own study and interpretation. Settled Truth. 
     When I had the conversation with Sam about what his teacher had told me, he replied, “Yes,” when I asked him if it was true. And my gut bottomed out. I was so angry at God for “letting this happen.” I had been faithful, I had served, I had taught my whole life. I did it right. I did not color outside the lines. I was a rule follower. This should not be happening to ME. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. 
     I thought maybe this was a delayed punishment from God for committing adultery at the age of 20. I had dreaded the “punishment” for that sin for years, fifteen years to be exact. Waiting for the “woodshed,” waiting for what I deserved. And here it was. My punishment. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. 
     I sat in my jeep while Sam went into the house after we visited with the Science teacher. After his affirmative response to my question, I asked him to go into the house so I could think. I had no idea what to say. I.I.I.I.I.I. I sent that poor, vulnerable kid into the house without a word of affirmation, kindness, empathy, or tenderness. Without a hug. I could not even look him in the eyes. 
     There are many years of regret looking at me through a backward mirror - Words I wish I had never said. Actions I took that were too harsh and unforgiving. I wish I had hugged more, laughed more, gone to the park more, ad nauseam. But this one moment with Sam is one of my deepest regrets. Even writing about it, my stomach drops again, but only because of what I did not do in that moment. He deserved so much better. 
      I called my professor/pastor and, most importantly, friend, before I went into the house and asked Dr. White/Pastor Robby/Robby what I should do. He said, “You could start by just loving him and letting him know it.” Just love him. Like I already did. 
     The first thing Sam said to me when I came into the house was, “So, this means I’m going to hell, right? The Bible says so.” I lost it. That dazed, sickly, narcissistic part of me in the jeep melted in an instant. It was not about me. It had never been. It was always about him.   I hugged him and held onto him, and we both cried. And I said, “Absolutely not.” I said that I loved him, and that did not change, and it never would. We would figure out all of the rest along the way. And we did.  
     I spent the next ten years of my life studying everything I could find on biblical interpretation and “homosexuality.” Over those years, I have read biblically conservative, moderate, and progressive resources.  I wrote my dissertation on “Same-Sex Eroticism and Biblical Interpretation.” Read well over fifty standalone books on this topic and forty to forty-five scholarly journals. Commentaries, more than thirty.  If there is a book, article, or commentary on this topic, I have most likely read it. I submerged myself in this world of those six texts in the whole bible that seem to condemn same-sex attractions - and yes, I absolutely came into that study with a bias. And I also came away from the topic, realizing that God is not condemning gay people. Not at all. 
      I messed up in my first reaction to the news. And I can never take that back. He will always bear a scar from my response. But as long as I am living, he will never bear another scar by me over him discovering who he truly is and always has been.  And neither will any of my children. And because of him, no one in my life and my ministry will either.