BJUnity

Dan Keller

Growing up gay in Fundyland, all I learned to do was question, but never out loud. On the one hand, I knew God loved me just as I was. On the other hand, I knew I was different, odd. I knew I was gay when I was 6. I was always the project kid for the fundy men in the church. I was fat, so they would try to get me to lose weight. I was wimpy, so I got handshake lessons. However, in Fundyland I learned to love God. I immersed myself in learning the Bible, memorizing entire books of the Bible, being able to quote verbatim long passages of the Authorized King James Version of the Holy Bible. And I prayed. I prayed so hard for the gay to go away. Much like Salieri’s prayer in the play Amadeus, I prayed to dedicate my life to full-time Christian service if only the gay would go away.

“Just as I am, without one plea, …” Really? God wants me as I am?
“…but that thy blood was shed for me, …” For the gay kid, too?
“…and that thou bidst me come to thee, …” You want me? You mean I can belong?
“…O Lamb of God, I come, I come.” Not so fast.

My foray into the world of Bob Jones University began with a Christian camp called The Wilds. The Wilds, located in Rosman, NC was a quick jaunt from Greenville, SC, otherwise known as Christian Mecca for Fundyland. The Wilds was started by a loyal BJU graduate and used mainly BJU students for its staff. People called The Wilds “BJU in the wilderness.” People were wrong. The Wilds had rules, but nothing like BJU. The Wilds, at least on the surface, seemed concerned about my spiritual path, BJU was only concerned about rule keeping. However, in September, 1973, my sister began matriculating to BJU and I was so jealous. I knew if only I could go there, this was the place that would take the gay away. So, I convinced my parents to send me to Bob Jones Academy in the fall of 1975 as a junior in high school.

“Just as I am, and waiting not…” I’m here now, God. I’m not waiting.
“…to rid my soul of one dark blot, …” Please, take this from me.
“…to thee whose blood can cleanse each spot, …” Work – wash your blood over me.
“…O Lamb of God, I come, I come.” I’ve come. Do your work.

I wasn’t prepared for BJA. Not at all. Academically, it was much more rigorous than my former school, and I really wasn’t a good student. “You’ve heard the expression, ‘Better late than never,’ well my expression is, ‘Better never late,’” said the junior English teacher. And she meant it. But, there was chorus right after chapel. I must admit not remembering much about chapel services. I remember how good the singing was, but the “preaching” sounded more like ranting than anything else. I was there when Bob Jones, Jr. called first lady Betty Ford a slut. That was shocking, but hyperbole was a specialty there, and I didn’t think too much about it.

Dorm life was very strange at BJU. I was 15, but in a room with people who could be up to 23 years old. That’s a very wide age range, especially for someone whose hormones are raging. Each dorm room had five beds, but I don’t ever remember having that many in a room. Both years I was there, we started out with four in the room, but by the second semester, only had three in the room. Each room had an “Assistant Prayer Captain” (APC) or a “Prayer Captain” (PC). Rooms were in groups of three or four “Prayer Groups.” Half of a hall was overseen by a hall monitor, the hall monitors were supervised by the “Dormitory Supervisor” (Dorm Supe), who was supervised by the Dean of Men or Women (respectively). This gave the school a lot of control over people’s lives. This atmosphere of total control was oppressive.

“Just as I am, though tossed about …” I’m under “their” authority now. Take it away.
“…with many a conflict, many a doubt, …” I’m trying not to doubt, that would be sinful.
“…fightings and fears within, without, …” I’m fighting. I’m fearful. I don’t want to be this way.
“…O Lamb of God, I come, I come.” Please, I’ve come here for victory.

Since I wasn’t a good student, I had to go to study hall nightly from 7 – 10 PM. Study hall was held in one of the rooms in the academy quadrangle and was monitored by some “preacher boy” (they were all males). And, just to make it a little more interesting, the preacher boy monitors had their own “extension” we could do. “Extension” was a big deal at BJU. “Extension” is when we went out to try to win souls for Jesus. I had done some of this at my home church and at The Wilds, so this wasn’t new, but I don’t ever recall it being a weekly event before going to BJU. Talking to complete strangers about their eternal destiny is not a gift in my personal arsenal of gifts, so I was terrified. Usually, we went to Columbia or Spartanburg. I would separate myself pretty quickly once we arrived at our destination, find a drug store or newsstand and look at magazines or books.

Then there was a fellow academy student to whom I was attracted. We talked. We acted on impulse. We had sex. The next time I ran into him, I promised myself I wouldn’t do it. I broke that promise. Each time I would swear it was my last. It never was. This thing was bigger than me.

“Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind; …” Stop this God. Please stop. I can’t.
“…sight, riches, healing of the mind, …” Take the thought life from me. I can’t think about this anymore.
“…yea, all I need in thee to find, …” What?
“…O Lamb of God, I come, I come.” If all I need is Christ, what about this other stuff? What is this?

Exit Bob Jones Academy. Enter Bob Jones University. “You should consider leaving before you have too much invested here. The administration wouldn’t like the way you think,” said the college professor. I spent a delightful summer there taking two required courses for freshmen – History of Civilization and English 101-102. The rules were relaxed. Everybody knew everybody. Something happened the week or so between BJA graduation and entering the university. I enjoyed learning and became a good student. Then came Fall, 1977 and the room from hell. In a real college or university, if somebody has roommate problems, they talk to the residence advisor and they find a way to move you or your roommate to another room. At BJU, you have a spiritual problem. They put me in a room with two brothers. Whoever thought that was a good idea should be taken to the woodshed, because that was an incredibly stupid idea.

In addition to the room from hell, I had major depression and wasn’t coping very well. Instead of going to classes (except music classes), I left campus without signing out, skipping classes I found boring. In January, 1978, this class skipping caught up with me. I was summarily expelled, or “shipped” in BJU speak.

“Just as I am, thou wilt receive, …” Help me, I’ll never be over the gay now.
“…wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve; …” Really? No matter what?
“…because thy promise I believe, …” Promises? For me?
“…O Lamb of God, I come, I come.” Can I really come? Is there a place around the Altar for me?

Life after BJU, and, yes, there is life after BJU, has been interesting. Another two schools and I finally got my papers – I am smart, I did university level work. Whew! What a relief. Two relationships and couple of different careers and I ended up exactly where I wanted to be since I was 12 – church music. God does work in mysterious ways. I’ve come to realize that my sexuality is one of the many wonderful gifts given to me by God. I’ve come to appreciate and love myself. The reality is all they have are some Old Testament passages, of which they only remember the gay stuff and the first chapter of Romans. And, with Romans, they need to keep reading. We’re all imperfect and we all have grace available to us.

Love. Authenticity. Friendship. These are the traits I value. And, I believe God values them also. I continue believing, albeit, not in an orthodox fashion. My desire is that everybody access the child within and parent him or her in a loving way. I grew up with questions I could never ask. Now, I value the questions. The answers aren’t important – the journey is. Please find your spiritual path, where ever it may lead you.

“Just as I am, thy love unknown …” Well, unbelievable, maybe, not unknown.
“…hath broken every barrier down; …” No walls. No secrets. Lots of questions and lots of doubts.
“…now, to be thine, and thine alone, …” I can still belong to God and be my authentic self.
“…O Lamb of God, I come, I come.” Home.