The author in 2024. Courtesy of Matt Bays He stood just inside my office. He’d pulled the door closed behind him.
“I need to ask you a question,” he told me. It was 2015. I was a 44-year-old pastor.
My desk was cluttered with set lists for the upcoming church series. That weekend, I was to sing “Beautiful Things” by Michael Gungor — a song I adored. It promised I could be new.
There was nothing I wanted more. “Are you gay, Matt?” There it was. It surprised me, but I was strangely calm.
It was a question I hadn’t been asked since college. A question I’d been haunted by since junior high. The words coursed through my body looking for an answer — an answer I owed only myself.
Advertisement I was sure his question also lingered in the minds of other colleagues and the community I’d built around myself, even if I had been married to a woman for over 20 years. Sure, he’s gay. But he’s doing God a solid by living like a straight man — avoiding the “wide path” that leads to eternal darkness.
Advertisement Most knew it wasn’t their business to ask, but he wanted to know. He had his reasons. A list of books I’d purchased from Amazon were visible on my profile.
One of the church parishioners had seen it and this information had gotten around. The particular book in question was about sexual orientation. I was searching for answers, even though answers weren’t what I needed.
Freedom was what I needed. “Are you?” he asked again. He didn’t seem.
