By Derek Collard
The majority of my life, I have deeply loved the church. My parents were always involved in some way and when I was 10 my Dad got hired to be a youth pastor at a non-denominational church. Growing up as a pastor’s kid can be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it gave me a great appreciation for caring for the people of God; on the other hand, I learned how to hide and lie with great skill as I sought to hide my deepest truth.
The world I was raised in was not one that had space for me to exist as my true self. As a closeted queer person in a conservative-minded world, I became adept at deception and was certain that my mere existence was a monstrosity. This was only reinforced more intensely by songs that called me a wretch and theology that told me that I deserved absolutely nothing. It is no wonder then that when I realized the whole truth of my queerness, I started to think the world might be better off without me.
In my teen years, I struggled intensely with depressive episodes, but never fully acted on it because I didn’t want my parents to look bad. Nobody who knew me then would have had any idea what was going on; from what I allowed people to see, I was the happy-go-lucky Christian boy. I didn’t stay alive for myself, but I stayed for them.
As I got older, and after a few mission trips hearing about how difficult things were around the world, I decided to become a missionary. I believed that this was my way to give my whole self to God and secretly hoped that maybe this sacrifice of myself would be what “healed” the brokenness of my queer identity. It’s only with years and some distance that I have realized that part of my radical yes to what I said I believed God was doing was actually me not fully valuing my life. I was pretty sure I’d be martyred for sharing the love of God, and I think I found an odd peace in that.
After two and a half years on the mission field, I burned myself out, and I started to realize that maybe this wasn’t God’s best for me. I expended all of my energy affirming God’s love for others but had no real concept of what that looked like for myself. I came back to the US, but even as I began to perceive that God’s love might also be for me, I only believed it was a part of me that was lovable, not the fullness of who I am.
Eventually, I fully embraced my queerness, and when I did, I found that I no longer fit into the places that had once been my home. I healed my broken view of myself in relation to God, but in turn experienced a break with the community I had derived so much value from. I left the church that had been the arbiter of meaning for my life and was self-exiled to encounter God in what I now see as my wilderness season. In that wandering space, I had a lot of time to reflect and to more fully care for and love myself. I learned to honor all of who I am and to not break myself into smaller pieces for the palatability of others. I learned that the best way I can honor God is to embrace who I was made to be.
The thing that always captures me, the reason I cannot leave God although God knows I tried. There is no place I can make my bed where I would be separated from God. There is a psalm that says even if I make my bed in hell, you will be there. My inability to recognize God’s presence was because I did not believe I deserved it. But God was always with me. Emmanuel, God with us.
What I came to realize is that when I believed I was making a “sacrifice” and giving my life to God, I didn’t actually value being alive. It cost me nothing and, if anything, felt more like my roundabout way out of having to keep pressing on to live more boldly and to actually find a way to love myself when I believed I wasn’t worth loving. Now I stand before you assured of my value, knowing how beloved I am to God, and I am able to give my full self to this church and to the care of God’s people here, and it truly makes all the difference.
My life of faith now is not about sacrificing to appease God or to win God’s approval. God is not some magical vending machine in the sky… But God has so poured out his love on me, it is all I can do to offer what I can back.
I know so many people who feel far from God’s love. Who have had doors closed in their faces and who have been told that they could never be enough. Our church exists to help remind them, just as God reminded me, that love is not only there for them, but that love is precisely for them and who God made them to be. That is why I am here. We need to tell this to everyone, because I never want anyone to feel what I felt. So, thank you all for making sure this place exists to do just that.