Double Life No More Double Life No More
By Gene B. Chase
By age 23, my pattern was set. I was dedicated to activeChristian evangelism and teaching at my church and equally diligentin pursuing furtive homosexual encounters out of town. “Don’t letthem take Gene off to war,” Mom kept repeating when I beganelementary school. “Don’t let them. Please don’t let them.”
“Aw, Mom, it’s just first grade!” My attempts at reassuring herfell on deaf ears. My leaving for school must have brought backmemories of my father departing for World War II. Soon afterward, mymother had a nervous breakdown. She was hospitalized for the next sixyears. Then I learned that this was her second episode. She had beenhospitalized for the same condition immediately after my birth. Ibegan to struggle with a terrible guilt, tormented by accusingthoughts. I caused Mommy’s illness. It’s my fault. If I didn’t exist,she would be fine. I began to regard women as weak and unstable.
I began to perceive myself in two different ways: the publicperson, for whom a rugged home life forced an early maturity; and theprivate person, sneaky, insecure and immature. The beginnings of mydouble life were taking root.
During my mother’s long years of illness, my father cared forme-except on Friday nights when I stayed with neighbors. “Friday isyour dad’s night out,” they explained. Every week, I pressed my noseagainst their kitchen window and cried for him to come home. Theneighbors didn’t make the connection between my tears and my habitualbed-wetting, so they just wiped my nose in the soiled sheets everySaturday morning. Later, I learned that my father was being sexuallyunfaithful to Mother during those nights away. That knowledgeincreased my feelings of hurt and betrayal.
I was aware of homosexual feelings from my earliest years. As apreschooler, I repeatedly tried to get a neighbor boy to urinate inmy back yard so that I could watch him.
During elementary school, my sexual curiosity continued to grow.When a teen exposed himself to the girl who was my best friend, Italked him into doing the same thing for me. The painful awareness ofmy problem was one of the things that drove me toward Christ.
I became a Christian at age ten. I was reading a Gideon NewTestament in my room on Saturday when, all at once, three years ofSunday School fell into place. From that time on, I never doubtedthat I was a child of God, despite all the struggles still ahead.
At the age of 15, I was baptized and continued growingspiritually, primarily through two summer camping experiences andthrough my local church. That same year, however, I learned from acousin how to masturbate. He was heterosexual and rejected myattempts to touch him sexually. But from that time on, I began movingfrom sexual fantasy to activity.
My sexual contacts in my 20’s were all with younger fellows wholived away from my home town. With some kind of twisted logic, Iwanted to nurture young men in the way that I had not been nurtured.By choosing boys younger than me, I felt in control. And by choosingfriends out of town, I hoped that friendship and distance wouldassure silence.
The church wasn’t any help at this point. The first mention ofhomosexuality from the pulpit-I was keeping track-did not occur untilI had graduated from college. My pastor was preaching through Romansverse by verse, so he was forced to comment on Romans chapter one. Hezoomed over the part about homosexuality with a brief reference to abooklet on sex. Later, I read the booklet and was disappointed; itwas no help at all.
“I’m sorry,” my pastor said when I talked to him. “I’ve never metanyone else who admitted that they are tempted homosexually. I’venever thought about it. All I can do is pray.” However, in anothersermon, he made a comment that was very helpful: “Everyone has abackground.” Something clicked inside me.
His statement put things in perspective. I realized that otherChristians struggled with problems. In that respect, I was nodifferent from everyone else. I still thought, however, that I wasthe only Christian on earth facing homosexual temptations.
My church had solid biblical preaching. I heard about claiming myidentity as a new creature in Christ (2 Cor. 5:17), but didn’t thinkto apply that truth to my situation, until someone mentioned it inthe specific context of homosexuality.
That happened when I was 23. By then, I was firmly entrenched in adouble life: active Christian evangelism and teaching at mychurch-and furtive homosexual encounters out of town. That year, Iwas greatly helped by a message I heard at a Christian weekendconference. “There is someone here who is a Christian, but who iscalling himself a homosexual,” said the speaker during his sermon,and I leaned forward to hear his next words.
“On Christ’s authority, I urge you to name yourself by your newidentity, and not your old one. You are a new creation in Him.” Myeyes filled with tears. Yes, I was ready to do that-but I wasn’tready for what happened next. Through tear-filled eyes, I looked atmy date for the weekend. She was sitting next to me. I saw her as I’dnever seen any girl before-I felt sexually attracted to her!
I knew something profound was happening deep in my heart. Fromthen on, I saw myself as a Christian who happened to have homosexualtemptations, rather than a homosexual who happened to have aChristian commitment.
Unfortunately, during the next five years, the battle for my mindgot fiercer, occupying most of my waking hours. And I got bolder inseeking after sex that previously I had found offensive. But throughit all, I clung desperately to God’s promise: “He who began a goodwork in you will finish it” (Phil. 1:6).
There were only a few people who knew of my struggles. One summerduring this time, my girlfriend from high school asked me to go for adrive. She told me about her growing relationship with anotherfellow. “Greg has asked me to marry him,” she concluded. “I want toknow where we stand before I give my answer.”
“I’m not prepared to marry you,” I told her, “because I’mstruggling with homosexuality.” We discussed it further, and she feltreleased to marry Greg.
Some time after that, another man asked me to pray for him in hisproblem with homosexuality. “Yes,” I responded, “if you will pray forme for the same reason.” Gradually I was learning to be more openabout my struggles. My double life was coming to an end.
Then I attended the 1972 Institute in Basic Youth Conflicts.Through Bill Gothard’s teaching, I learned how bitterness and angercan lead to sexual sin (see Job 36:13-15, Heb. 12:15-16). I learnedalso that I needed to ask forgiveness from my parents and from GodHimself for blaming them for my own choices. Later, I asked vaguelyfor forgiveness from my mother, who was hospitalized again. I askedmore specifically from my father. In neither case did I expect themto forgive me, and neither of them offered it.
But God saw my heart and honored my obedience. During thefollowing weeks, I discovered that my homosexual compulsion was gone.I was able to exercise choice in refraining from sex. I had only onehomosexual contact after that. About one year later, I asked Emily, awoman I’d been dating, to marry me. She said no. I was devastated andsought a one-night stand. Afterward, I asked God’s forgiveness and Hegave me the strength to keep going forward. I remained friends withEmily, and our relationship deepened. A year later, I proposed to heragain and she said yes. We were married that summer.
I was never apprehensive about marriage, except on the weddingnight, since Emily and I had talked about my background during ourengagement.
Marriage was a step of faith, but it was faith on firm evidencethat the Lord had not let me down so far. And God has been faithful.Since 1974, He’s given me the joy of learning about love within thecontext of a lifelong commitment to my wife.
Years ago, I did make a practical commitment that helped ensurethat I would never return to the old life. I resolved that, if I eversinned sexually with another man, I would go back and ask hisforgiveness.
For example, I asked forgiveness of the fellow that I picked up onthe rebound after Emily rejected my first proposal of marriage.Later, God brought others from my past back into my life just longenough for me to ask their forgiveness, too.
Today, same-sex temptations exist for me, but they are incidental,not fuel for compulsive behavior. Flashbacks to past relationshipsoccasionally invade my bedroom, but they are not the secret means bywhich I am able to relate sexually to my wife.
God has given me control over my mind as I have sought to obey afavorite verse: “We take captive every thought to make it obedient toChrist” (2 Cor. 10:5).
Early in my marriage, I wondered about the principle of a father’ssins being visited on his children “to the third and fourthgeneration” (Numbers 14:8).
My mother’s father died of alcoholism, my mother committed suicidewhile hospitalized for schizophrenia, and I was involved in sexualimmorality. At times I have worried that my children might turn tohomosexuality, but God gives me peace that, through His blood, thepower of generational ties has been broken. Since my children rangein age from 14 to 7, the last chapter hasn’t been written, but I facethe future with confidence.
My wife and three children are the second greatest blessing in mylife. Of course, the biggest cause for thanksgiving is myrelationship with Jesus Christ, through whom I have forgiveness formy past sins. By his power, my double life is over.
Dr. Gene Chase is a professor of mathematics and computerscience. He worships at West Shore Evangelical Free Church inMechanicsburg, PA, where he leads a support group for formerhomosexuals. Copyright 1991 by Gene B. Chase. Distributed by Love inAction, P.O. Box 753307, Memphis, TN 38175-3307; 901 542-0250.