Bill & Timothy White
Bill:
The New York Times article came out of nowhere. The journalist, a friend of my son Timothy, had heard of our family’s journey and was planning on a simple interview. She had no idea that I’d written so much down. Indeed, I have dozens of letters I’ve written to my kids since they were born. And that’s not to mention hundreds of pages of journals I wrote about each of them (which I am still planning to give them at some uncertain point in the future).
When I realized the journalist wanted a peek at some of my key journal entries, I froze. Sure, there was outright fear of what she’d think (or the hordes of people who might read them). But the real issue is that I’d need to share them first with Timothy.
So cracking those open, as well as digging through the thousands of pages of my own journals, felt like opening Pandora's box. Half the time they made me cringe, so who knew what anyone else might think of the blundering man they read about.
When I realized the journalist wanted a peek at some of my key journal entries, I froze. Sure, there was outright fear of what she’d think (or the hordes of people who might read them). But the real issue is that I’d need to share them first with Timothy. Oof, that was going to be awkward. I had figured I’d spare myself that discomfort by dying of old age first. Then he could only blame himself if he chose to see what was behind the curtain during those tricky years when he came out.
In the end, I proceeded forward banking on the fact that we’d always been close. I hoped he wouldn’t be surprised – or too disappointed – by my unfiltered thoughts and feelings.
And then there was one final person I would have to deal with: myself. I’d never looked back on those years of my life. Soon enough I realized that I’d blocked out many of those memories. And for good reason. There’s plenty more pain and confusion than what showed up in the New York Times.
Reliving those years through my journals impressed on me something I don’t think I’d seen before: ironically, I’d have to say that my son coming out in 2015 has been one of the greatest gifts of my life.
Of course, that’s not how I saw it then. I began the journey by railing against God, yelling and cursing at times; most of the time I simply felt confused, lost, and hopeless.
Imperceptibly at first but then gaining momentum, something shifted deep within me. I had to do some rethinking – and not just about my sexual morality. At issue was my entire approach to religion, which was indeed my whole approach to life. Did I really have everything figured out? What if God was bigger and, yes, better, than I had ever dreamed of? Was it really possible that God loved everyone – and that I was invited to do the same?
While there may be plenty of evangelicals who love LGBTQ people well, I wasn’t one of them. It’s not that I was a hater. It’s that they made me uncomfortable. So, like many evangelicals, I gave lip service to loving but what I really wanted was for LGBTQ people to go away. And that is not love. It’s not even close.
I felt conflicted about loving people who I thought were inherently broken, sinful, and estranged from God. I couldn’t truly love them without telling them they were going to hell, could I? And what if I ended up liking them? It was not unlike my approach to people of other religions: my best two options were converting them or ignoring them. Actual friendship, authentic and mutual relationship, was out of the question. Which essentially meant I would not allow myself to love them.
I got so worried that if I truly loved my gay son, with all the rethinking of scripture that would require, I would lose Jesus. Who knew that I would rediscover him all the more deeply? The best way I can describe going on this journey of following Jesus towards loving gay people – and all people – is that it’s been like being born again, again.
I met Jesus for the first time as a teenager, walking through the woods behind our home outside of Richmond, Virginia. I could never forget the sweetness, the freedom, the forgiveness, and the sense of calling. In so many ways, that’s what I’ve come to experience again as I’ve read the scriptures through the lens of Christ. Moving away from a bible-centered faith to a Jesus-centered faith has delivered me from being the self-appointed morality police. Sure, that life was neat and clean. But it was filled with an uneasy, guilty pleasure at being in the right – and just a lot of plain old guilt. What a gift to be ‘free indeed.’
But enough from me. I want to leave some space for my son to share some of his thoughts about my journey and the process of working on the NYT article himself.
Timothy:
Working on this piece was years in the making for me –– I’ve told so many people over the years about my dad, his story, and how it intertwines with mine. When the opportunity presented itself, I immediately knew I wanted to do this. How often would I get the chance to write a piece with this large of an audience telling one of the great stories of my life about one of the most impressive people I know?
His journey, as evidenced through his journals, was not predetermined. And it was harder than I ever knew at the time. But he made it through, I think, because he was so fully committed to loving God, loving his church, and loving his son.
But I also knew that it wouldn’t be simple. Looking through my dad’s journals as he went through the very difficult journey of theological and personal transformation was bound to be messy. And there were some tough entries to read.
What I found, though, only deepened my admiration and love for him. His journey, as evidenced through his journals, was not predetermined. And it was harder than I ever knew at the time. But he made it through, I think, because he was so fully committed to loving God, loving his church, and loving his son.
I see Jesus in my dad –– wading through controversy, discomfort, and personal risk for the sake of loving people. I’m so proud to be his son. And every time I go to City Church of Long Beach, I’m proud to have him as my pastor, too.
As I think about what it means to me to have this piece in the world, my hope is that people might see one example of how to live out Christian faith in a complicated, messy world. It doesn’t mean always having all the answers. Sometimes it might include getting angry with God and the church. It means having the humility and bravery to reconsider something you previously thought certain – and a commitment to loving people throughout your journey.
-Bill & Timothy
P.S. if you haven't read the NYT Article, find it Here.