I was about 15 years old when I realised I was gay. Though I grew up in the church – my dad was a vicar – it wasn’t a topic I ever remember being addressed. My only frame of reference for what Christians thought about homosexuality was a quick mention in a Religious Studies class, where it was stated that Catholics were against gay sex, but that Protestants thought it was probably OK! Goodness knows how that summary had been arrived at, but I took it as gospel. Fine, I thought. I’m not ready to come out yet. This was the early 2000s and I didn’t know any gay people in my rural community.

There’s a time and a place for almost everything, and that I believe includes identifying oneself by the terms ‘LGBTQ+’, ‘gay’ or ‘lesbian’ etc. Note that I said identifying oneself by these terms, not identifying with them. The distinction is essential, especially for a Christian who holds to biblical morality and a biblical worldview. The ways we identify ourselves are important. In the Bible, names are almost never just names, but rather have a prophetic value-proclaiming  (even just subtly) who a person is or who they are becoming.

David Murray’s book, The Story Changer, creates the feeling of sitting with a friend who gently reminds you that Jesus does not just help tweak our lives, but completely rewrites our stories. It captures the heart of transformation, not as a severe change, but a deep surrender to the One who restores that which sin 
has broken.

I was born on January 12th 1948 into a family of Anglican church goers who sent away their male offspring to boarding school as a matter of course. I have to say all nine years from the age of eight were traumatic for me. The second school, one of the top public schools, was supposed to be established for the sons of Anglican clergy. It was there I first encountered homosexuality.

At one point in my life, I found myself standing before a crowd, speaking on behalf of a faith I no longer fully understood. As I talked about the teachings I once held dear, I was grappling with emotions of loneliness, jealousy, envy, fear of missing out, anger and lust. These feelings consumed me and turned me away from the incredible, loving and sacrificial God who had been my anchor. In that dark season, I chose to pick a girl over God - she was a wonderful person, but she wasn’t God. I believed I had been betrayed by the church.

In December 2024, I published an academic paper entitled, “Too Gay for the Evangelicals. Too Evangelical for the Gays: A Narrative and Autoethnograpic Study of a Celibate-Gay Testimony”. In the paper, I was seeking to explore the place of testimonies by same-sex attracted Christians within the church. 

For a number of years, I attended an accountability group for Christian men with sexual addictions, and found it very helpful. It was a mixed group - old and young, black and white, manual labourers and city professionals, businessmen and civil servants. The men came with a broad range of issues, whether battling lustful thoughts or porn addiction, compulsively masturbating, using female sex workers or being promiscuous with other men. They were all with a very obvious broken sexuality and all trusting Jesus for their salvation.

If you are planning to set up an accountability arrangement with another person, the principles in this short article are intended to help you set it up so that it is clear, effective and helpful from the start. The two roles referred to in this article are “supporter” (the person offering support) and “recipient” (the person being supported). The focus of this article is establishing an accountability arrangement that is focused on interpersonal interaction, instead of one focused on an online monitoring product (such as Covenant Eyes).

When I was first asked to write a book review on the book Quenched by Jessica Harris, I’ll admit, I was sceptical. I don’t struggle with pornography and wasn’t sure I could relate to this book and the particular struggles spoken about…Well how wrong and ignorant was I! It is important to state that this book is not a self-help guide or practical manual to gain freedom from pornography or sexual shame, but rather an encouraging and emotional read to help us walk alongside each other in the hope that we can “live a life quenched” and glorify God.