Telling church leaders I’m gay has always had mixed results.

When I was 14, I had a powerful encounter with God during a school assembly in South Africa. I was raised in the Dutch Reformed Church - active in Sunday school, choirs, and youth groups - but this was personal, profound. Soon after, I realised I was gay. I believed that made me an abomination. At a youth camp, I agreed to prayer that became aggressive conversion therapy. It left me shamed and broken.

By 16, nothing had "cured" me. Alongside other traumas, I became clinically depressed and suicidal. My parents, trying to help, invited our DRC vicar over. When I told him I was gay, he replied, “You can’t be - you’re a Christian.” I left that church, and tried others, but the message was the same: I couldn’t be gay and follow Jesus.

Years later, in my late twenties, I was raising children with my female partner and deeply involved in church life—band, Bible studies, cleaning. We were known, trusted, even baptised in the vicar’s pool. Then came a sudden meeting: I was asked to confirm whether my relationship was platonic. When I told the truth, I was told we must step down from everything… except the cleaning rota.

In my thirties, now married to my British wife Jo (who wrote this piece), we sought community in the Church of England. Despite her long history of service, we were rejected repeatedly. “You can attend,” they said, “but stay low profile.” We were heartbroken.

Then one day, we walked into a church near my new job in Islington. We were welcomed without hesitation. The vicar gave us the most wonderful gift in telling us we could be involved in any way we wanted. We worshipped with joy for a year before relocating.

In our new town, we tried again. The local vicar, after tea and polite awkwardness, stumbled over words he had clearly never uttered before: “My wife and I, we have, um, a full marriage, um, a physical relationship. Is this, um, the same for you?” I scared him a little when I said: “Oh, I know where this is going. You must ask if we’re celibate and if we are then it’s ok, and you can allow us into your church. But it’s not. We have what you call a ‘full marriage’.” He apologised and said he had never met a same sex couple before and really didn’t have the foggiest about what to do with us. It would definitely be better for everyone involved if we “tried elsewhere”. So we did - for years. Most churches were either overtly or quietly homophobic. 

My wife had lost hope, had been hurt one too many times and was ready to give up. I begged her to try just one last time with me and we walked into the church where we are not just accepted but embraced. Now, we host a small group, sing in the band, do prayer ministry. I’ve even co-led courses with the vicar. Sometimes - and I can hardly believe this - I preach.

This is how Jesus would have done church, I’m sure. And it’s finally wonderful.