It’s Okay to Love Both Jesus and Men

Several years ago, I found myself in Orlando on a business trip. I should say here that I’m gay, but at the time, I was closeted and my employer was a Christian record company. Anyway, one of the few friends i’d come out to suggested that I visit a gay club there called Southern Nights. Mind you, I was a good Christian boy who drank only on rare occasions and had never been to such a place. But I decided I really should go.

 

When I walked in, the place was packed with all kinds of men. There was a big bar and a lit-up dance floor, complete with go-go boys. Across the huge room was a set of doors that people were filing through. Of course I was curious, so I followed the crowd and learned quickly that a drag show was about to start.

 

Now I had never seen a drag show before. But as I mentioned, I was curious.

 

I stood in the back as the lights went down. The music started—stirring strings that built to a crescendo, before dramatically dropping to just trembling violins. A spotlight fell on a beautiful, curvaceous, sequined queen and she immediately owned the stage. A smile came across my face as she opened her mouth and voice of Sandi Patty began to fill the room with “How Great Thou Art.”

 

If you don’t know, Sandi Patty was a powerhouse of a singer, known for finishing her songs with an outrageously high note, a true gospel icon.

 

As the song continued, I was astonished by her performance. I felt like I was watching Sandi herself, singing to lil gay me standing in the back. Pretty sure my eyes welled up as she finished and the crowd cheered.

 

I don’t really remember the rest of the show, but when it was over, I spoke to the queen. Our conversation went something like this:

 

Me: You were amazing!

Her: (in a thick Southern drawl) Thank you, sweetie.

Me: I love that song and I love Sandi Patty.

Her: Oh, I do too! I grew up singing “How Great Thou Art” in church choir and I still get choked up when I sing it now.

Me: I’m from Nashville and I work in gospel music. I never expected to hear a gospel song here.

Her: (takes my arm) Honey, let’s do some shots!

 

She walked me over to the bar and we took a couple shots of something that burned. We sat there and talked for an hour or more about growing up in the church in the South. Our experiences were much the same. She told me that she felt back then that God hated her for being different. I told her I didn’t want to disappoint God.

 

We laughed about the big-haired, judgy women and the men who bellowed “Amen” in the service at inappropriate times.

 

Then she said, even after she left the church, she kept finding peace when she listened to gospel music. And over time, she said it was the music that led her to the true God, who’d always loved and accepted her. That’s why she would always perform at least one gospel song in every show.

 

The last thing she said to me before giving me a big bear hug and a kiss on the cheek was this: “One day soon, you’ll know in your heart that it’s okay to love both Jesus and boys. And they’re gonna love you back!”

 

It got harder to stay in the closet after that night. If gay and God could coexist in a club in Orlando, and in the words and heart of a drag queen, then they might be able to coexist in me too. And, of course, they do.