Joseph Onesta

The Desert

I waffle between writing this and not.  In some ways, my personal testimony means nothing.  In others, I wonder how much of my experience is common among us and therefore believe that my sharing this might benefit someone somewhere.  There is something cathartic in writing this story.  I struggle with exactly how much to include.  Will increased detail make it more interesting, useful or more tedious?  Here goes:

I was born into a Roman Catholic family.  My parents were not strong church goers but insisted that I attend CCD, (Catholic Sunday School) for 12 years.  Serving both as an alter server and later CCD teacher, my faith held a strong if not central position in my life.  I always had a sense of destiny and purpose in life and that sense was a fruit of my fledgling relationship with God.

In high school, for the period of a year, I was plagued by pestering paranormal experiences.  Prayer got me through it.  I learned from these experiences that the spiritual realm was as real as the physical and that I might need to learn to function in both.

In college, I found myself involved in the Jesus movement.  While I tried very hard to maintain my Catholic identity, it was very difficult.  So many Christians at the time looked at the Catholic Church as a kind of cult.  I suppose some of them still do.  It wasn’t the opposition of my fellow Christians that caused me to stop identifying myself as Catholic.  I’ve never been a cookie cutter Christian.  A clearer understanding of some of the doctrines the Catholic Church holds is what finally did it for me.  I felt that if I said I was Catholic, I would also be tacitly stating that I believed those teachings and that felt like hypocrisy.

I experienced the Holy Spirit in the way many Pentecostals and Charismatic Catholics do and I joined a small full-gospel church with a very powerful pastor/teacher and the most amazing worship services I’ve ever experienced, before or after.  I learned a lot from the people in that church.  Most importantly, I learned that the bible was more than literal.    There were deeper, higher, different experiences in God.  It was in this church that I had my first real mystical experience–at least the first that I remember.

While in worship, I suddenly found myself walking up a grassy hill.  At the top of the hill was the brightest light I’d ever seen.  As I entered into the light, the contrast between my body and the light was remarkably stark.  The light began to glow in my core and worked its way out to the edges of my skin.  For a very brief moment, I could only see the outline of my skin, the light bright inside and out.  Then the outline disappeared and I and the light were one.  It was cool.  I chalked it up to imagination until years later; I was reading the accounts of Near Death Experiences and realized that I understood what they were talking about when they described an indescribable light.

It was while attending that church that I also betrothed myself to a beautiful woman, who accepted my proposal but later had the sense to end our engagement before we made a terrible mistake, the consequences of which would have lasted the rest of our lives.  I thank God for her and her wisdom.  At the time, I understood it.  It hurt but I was also relieved.

Eventually, my career and acquaintance with a Church in the Bronx, took me to New York City.  On Easter Day I was ordained in that Church.  My ordanation was reallly an amazing thing.  Standing before the congregation as the elders hurled questions at me and everyone reacting to my responses.  Then the agreement of everyone that I and one of my brothers named Willy were accepted as ministers.  The power of the laying on of hands and prayer and sense of dentiny were wonderful.

I almost immediately descended into a kind of battle.  Everything that I had struggled with prior to that day seemed to amplify.  The difference before and after was horrifying.  It was like the devil himself was out to make sure that I doubted my calling and my usefullness to God.

Temptation, particularly sexual temptation, would take me unaware and completely by surprise.  You know, if you can see something coming, you can avoid it but when it pounces on you unexpectedly, one can only flee or fight and sometimes, the decision is made by the circumstances.  I had been fairly strong in that fight but after my ordaination, I was attacked from multiple sides.  I had to fight a lot and I got really tired.

I went on a kind of retreat to seek the Lord and ask for guidance and help.  I knew that dealing with my sin publicly might harm the congregation and I decided that I should step down from the ministry until I had really conquered my sexuality.  I was convinced with a little more time and effort, I would be cured.  When I tendered my resignation, it was refused and the Senior Pastor told me he knew I was a homosexual when he ordained me.  He also agreed that I needed time to figure things out and gave me leave but reminded me that the gifts and callings of God were irrevocable.  (Romans 11:29)  He said he’d be waiting for my return.

I initially figured a year of isolation and contemplation would do it so I took a job in a rural part of Japan.  One year turned into two and then when I came back to the states, I went to Los Angeles as a gay man.  That transition was a difficult one.  It is even more difficult to recount.  I tell parts of that story here and there.  It’s too much for here so we’ll leave it for there.  Let’s just say my sabaticle, really a walk through the driest of deserts, lasted 22 years.

At times I tried to turn my back on the Lord because it would have just been easier.  This is the most important thing, every time I thought I was stepping outside of Christ, he just got bigger and I found I was still inside.  I did some things that I am rather proud of and I did even more of which I am not so proud.  I disciplined my mind to remain open and rather than closing my eyes to challenges to the ways I have been taught to think, I confronted them, asked God to protect me and teach me all along the way.  I learned and grew from each of them.

I came to a place of comfort in the Lord in which I knew he loved me beyond my capacity to comprehend and even beyond my capacity to really accept.  He kept up his part of our relationship throughout and though I felt isolated from and deprived of a church family, I remained in him.  I suppose I could have found a church and kept my mouth shut about my sexuality.  But open and accepting churches were rare back then and I never felt part of Gay churches.

For me, it was never just about being gay.  It was about the bigotry, pride, hatred, fear and cruelty that faced me inside the body of Christ, the very place I should have known unconditional love.  These are festering self-inflicted wounds in the Body of Christ.  For me, it was easier to stay home and not go through being the one that caused my brothers and sisters to act in such a manner.  I stayed away because I thought I reopened those wounds and felt guilt for being the kind of person who brought them about.  It never occurred to me that while I came out of my closet, they still had skeletons in theirs and perhaps my presence would help them grow in the grace and forgiveness of our Father in heaven.  I beg forgiveness for having tarried so long.

I was more than 22 years on that desert journey.  Apart from the occasional oasis, it was a dry and dusty road.  Along the way, there were more mirages than places of real rest.  I was often seduced into experiences of which I would simply have to make the best.  Unlike my Lord who journeyed 40 days fasting in that terrible dry place, I sometimes fell hard to temptation.  Through it all, my Lord and Brother Jesus was always there ready to offer me a hand up.  And when I had damaged myself so that I could not walk, he picked me up, comforted me and carried me.

Now, I look back on those experiences and I realize that when the Lord had me ordained, he knew the road ahead of me and knew that he’d see me through.  My calling is very real for me.  There are many of us who for one reason or another feel isolated within the body of Christ.  It is difficult to be one who straddles the line drawn in the sand by what we see as traditional Christian doctrine.  I went through it and survived so that you don’t have to go through it alone.

I realize that many Christians will shine a negative light on me.  They may label me as deceived or even a heretic.  But for me to offer my brothers and sisters any less grace than has been offered me would be an arrogance I would not dare.

Update:  June 7, 2011  You’ll notice that I have not mentioned formal Christian education in my past.  I attended CCD (Roman Catholic Sunday School) for 12 years and was certified to teach CCD in the diocese of Pittsburgh.  I taught for a couple years.  My college fellowship focussed heavily on discipleship and my church was rather intense in teaching but I had no formalized or systematic study after I focussed my attentions outside the Roman Catholic faith.  After reading a rather comprehensive volume outlining Church history, I realize that there is a vast body of practical knowledge, simple historical fact, the thoughts of theologians who disagree with one another, the variety of Christians and their distinctive beliefs that I believe  will benefit me.    I   have recently decided to enroll in seminary.  I am considering another blog focussed on what I encounter in my studies.  If I move forward with that, I’ll put a link here.