BJUnity

by Jenni Frencham

Jenni Frencham

Ed. Note: Late last week, BJUnity received notice that Bob Jones University is devoting the entire week’s chapel services — beginning today, Veteran’s Day — to a series of sermons on “Same Sex Attraction” and a “biblical response.” We are encouraged at language that indicates a possible change in tone at BJU about this topic, but we are also wary, extremely wary, because too many of our people have been damaged by these kinds of special chapels in the past. Jenni Frencham shares her experience of one such chapel service and its aftermath in her life in today’s post.

If Stephen Jones and the administrators at Bob Jones University are serious about making positive changes regarding the safety and well-being of LGBT+ students, they must respond to our online petition with a sincere, contrite apology; engaging the many people whose lives have been so adversely affected. Throughout this week, BJUnity will be publishing anecdotes and personal stories of some of those people as a message to current LGBT+ students at BJU…. and also as a beacon of hope:

You are not alone. You are loved and supported. BJUnity is here for you.

My “gay chapel day” at BJU

“If you even think homosexual thoughts, even if you’ve never acted on them, then you have a sin problem and need to get help.” I felt as though the chapel speaker was speaking directly to me. Had someone cued him in to my struggles? Was someone in the faculty guessing at my secret? I had known since elementary school that I was different, and in high school I finally tacked the word “gay” onto my difference, but I had never told anyone. I had never dated anyone of either gender, had never kissed a girl. Now I was being told that even having these feelings was wrong. I was told that I was sinning just by being who I was, even though I had not ever acted on my feelings.

I was terrified that somehow I had displeased God by my very existence. I left that chapel, adrenaline surging through my body, determined to find a solution to my problem. I checked out the website of Exodus International, an organization the chapel speaker had mentioned. Their website, as well as those of several sister organizations, gave witness to the fact that I was not alone: it seemed quite a few Christians struggled with what they called same-sex attraction (SSA).

I quickly gobbled up all of the information I could find on these websites as well as books by Anne Paulk and others who declared themselves to be ex-gays, healed of their SSA. All of these sites seemed to focus on the same things: determining the cause of a person’s SSA and creating a support system to help that person overcome it. Apparently I was not born gay; I became gay because my parents divorced, because my mom raised me without a father in the house, because I was educated in a public school surrounded by secular ideas. I had straight friends who were from broken homes, straight friends who were raised by a single parent, straight friends who grew up in the public school system. I’m not sure how they managed to escape the sin that had apparently entangled me, but it was obvious that I was the one with the problem and I needed to solve it.

Finding a support system proved to be more complicated. I came out to a small handful of friends, hoping they would support me during this difficult time. Each time, I said something along these lines: “I have a sin problem. I struggle with same-sex attraction. I know this is a sin and I am working to resolve it. Will you please pray for me and support me in my struggles to please God in all things?”

One friend responded by pushing a note under my dorm room door, telling me that she no longer could speak to me or spend time with me. Another told me her parents had advised her to stay away from me, as if homosexuality was something you could catch, like the flu. One friend created all kinds of rules about our friendship. If I wanted to speak with her in her dorm room, we had to leave the door open. If I wanted to eat lunch with her in the Dining Common, it had to be with a group. She said she didn’t want to give Satan a foothold in my life. Yet another friend said, “The Bible tells us to confess our sins, but not our specific sins. Why are you telling me this?” No one stayed with me.

At the one time when I most wanted and needed help, my friends left me utterly alone. I had no one to eat with, no one to study with, no one to pray with. I was left with the idea that I had some sort of horrible problem, due to events that happened when I was a small child, and that even though I had never willingly acted on these temptations, I was sinning just by being tempted. I was sinning just by being. Not only that, but this sin was so grievous that no one wanted to be around me and no one was willing to talk about it. In the world of Bob Jones, I was left a spiritual and social leper. I resorted to cutting myself to ease the pain and seriously considered ending my life. I had heard a chapel message; I had responded because I wanted to please God; I was being honest and attempting to correct the things I was told were a problem, but instead of being supported, I was abandoned to a fate unknown and encouraged not to discuss a sin problem everyone was convinced that I had and that was very, very bad.

It is said that LGBT+ youth have high rates of depression and attempted suicide. I wonder if these numbers are even higher within the fundamentalist Christian community, where a person’s orientation and gender identity are so closely tied to his/her eternal destiny and the state of his/her relationship with his/her creator. Before this one chapel message, I was assured that God loved me and that I was doing what I needed to do to please him. Afterwards, it seemed as though God had rejected me for things that were beyond my control, and that I was no longer capable of pleasing him, no matter how hard I tried. Is it any wonder that I considered ending my life?

Ed. Note: If you (or someone you know) is considering ending your (their) life, you deserve immediate support. Please contact the Trevor Project‘s 24/7 hotline at 1-866-488-7386.

If you need someone to talk to in confidence because you have questions about your sexual orientation and/or gender identity, please feel free to contact BJUnity by email to unity@bjunity.org or by telephone on 864-735-7598. 

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