Contemporary attitudes toward masculinity and femininity are quite different than they were while I was growing up. Sports, blue jeans, and short hair were only for guys; music and long hair were for girls. If a guy got involved with art, music, or had long hair he was a sissy. If a girl got involved with sports, wore blue jeans, or cut her hair short, she was considered a tomboy.
I grew up in Camden, New Jersey, a small industrial community. My early childhood was a time of insecurity and self-consciousness about being Jewish. I was different, and frequently made fun of by the guys at school. Sports and the kind of activities most guys liked didn't interest me, but I loved music and art. I was very shy and avoided gym class as much as possible. My art teacher would give me excuses from gym to do props for the school plays, posters for dances, and other artistic activities. I was grateful for her help.
My physical desires were always toward other guys. I can remember as far back as third grade being drawn to certain older guys at school. I studied their habits and knew where they would be and when. I would walk blocks out of my way just to see them and be near them.
My first sexual involvement with a male was in my early teens, although I had had desires years before. I would go to the local park, wishing for someone to approach me for sexual activity. I hoped it would be someone I liked. During my last two years of high school I recognized and accepted the fact that I was different in more ways than one.
During my high school years my family moved to Los Angeles for about six months. One night while walking home, I was arrested for being out after curfew. I had stopped by a gay party and talked with a few friends. The police phoned my mother and told her I'd been to a gay party. I was tired of living a double life, decided to be honest, and I told her about my homosexuality. She wanted to have my friends arrested for leading me astray. Even though I hated the pain my family was going through, it was a relief that the truth was out.
I had my first real emotional involvement with a friend about the same time. I fell in love with him. A few months later I was deeply hurt when I found he was being unfaithful. Even though we broke up, I resisted getting involved with anyone else for several years, being faithful to my first love and certain there would never be another.
Then my family moved back to the east coast for awhile. I returned to Los Angeles several years later to stay, got my own apartment, established a few friendships and started getting involved in the gay bar scene.
I met a young man, fell in love again, and we ended up living together for about seven years. He was a heavy drinker. I tried to make friends outside of the bar crowd, but it didn't fit with our life-style. I wanted a regular social life—not just the bar life. For the first few years, we had a physical attraction and what I thought was love. But as time went on, we needed something more to hold us together. We bought a house and an apartment. It was like building a material kingdom we thought would lock us together, but we eventually broke off our relationship and sold the property. It was a difficult time for both of us.
I moved to Las Vegas, and within six months moved into my own house. I was still searching, hoping that I would find a lasting relationship. I found new friends in Las Vegas, some straight and some homosexual.
In 1971, a tragedy occurred which later helped turn my life in a completely different direction. I invited a young man home for the weekend. On Sunday night after I was asleep he severely beat me. Using a claw hammer, he hit me over the head and face a number of times.
The side of my face was shattered and my skull had been split open like an eggshell. For two weeks I lay unconscious and near death in the hospital. The doctors said, "He's got about a 10 percent chance, and if he lives he'll probably be blind and a vegetable."
Somewhere in the course of my recovery, I remember hearing the words, "God is going to heal you completely." I do not know where they came from—perhaps a Christian visitor, a chaplain, or the still small voice of God's Spirit. Little did I understand the fullness of those words.
After the doctors determined I would live, they did surgery on my eye and face. My optic nerve had been damaged. They said I would see again, but I would need glasses due to tracking problems. When I went for my final visit and asked the eye-doctor when he was going to fit me for special glasses, he said, "You don't need glasses." I asked him about reading glasses, which I'd had before the accident. He replied, "You don't need them." That started me thinking about what had happened. Wow! Maybe God has healed me completely.
About a year after my recovery, I had an epileptic seizure. I was working for a computer company, and they insisted that I go to Los Angeles to get a physical checkup from a company doctor. While I was there, I went to a gay bar and met a new friend named Jim. We began a relationship and I began seeing him regularly.
Jim was studying for the ministry in the Metropolitan Community Church (MCC), the gay church in Los Angeles. They had a meeting every Friday night for Jewish people. I drove down after work each week, attended the meeting, and stayed the weekend. On Sunday I attended their regular church services with Jim. I began to hear about Jesus Christ. Being Jewish, I had not heard the gospel, but it was my emotional attachment to Jim that motivated me to attend church. God says his word "will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire" (Isaiah 55:11). It sure did!
During that year, I continued my relationship with Jim. We attended an MCC conference in Denver and visited other MCC churches. I met many gays who were active in the church and public about their homosexuality. I attended the Watts Conference for minority groups in Los Angeles as a representative of the homosexual community. This was the first time I publicly admitted I was gay.
On the way back to Las Vegas, I stopped to visit friends in San Bemardina—a Christian family. They gave me a Living Bible, but I still resisted Jesus because I was a Jew. Carol suggested, "Why don't you pray and ask Jesus if he's real to reveal himself to you?" So I did just that when I got home. I started reading the Bible and noticed the correlation between Jesus' life and the Old Testament prophecies about the coming Messiah. I woke up the following Friday, convinced that Jesus was who he said he was. I really believed it!
I went to synagogue that evening, the first time in a year. I sensed an emptiness and incompleteness. I knew something was missing.
I didn't plan to go to Los Angeles that weekend but Saturday, while working around the yard, I heard a voice inside me speaking. I know now it was the voice of the Lord saying, "Go to Los Angeles." It was with such urgency that I was in the car and on my way within minutes. When I arrived I found Jim with another man, and it hurt me deeply. I realized that when I wasn't there, Jim was involved with someone else. Even though it was an awkward situation, I remember sharing with him that I believed Jesus was real.
I stayed in the Los Angeles area that night and Sunday morning I went to the MCC church. I wanted to receive communion, but was afraid that those who saw me would think that I was just "being holy" to get back into Jim's good graces. Even though I didn't take communion, I knew I needed to do something join a church, get baptized. After the morning service, I called various churches and said, "I'm Jewish and I believe in Jesus. What do I need to do!" I must have called some weird groups, because I got some weird answers. Finally giving up, I got on the freeway and headed back to Las Vegas.
The same voice I had heard a few days before spoke to me again. "Go back, go back." It came with such emphasis that I circled around and headed back to Los Angeles. I got to the church just as both the pastor and Jim arrived at the front door. Jim turned to the pastor and said, "He believes." The pastor replied, "Have him come and see me after the service." We went in and sat down. At the end of the sermon, there was an altar call and I went forward and received Jesus into my heart and life.
They gave me some good advice, "Go home and find a good Bible-believing church." It didn't take long to find one in Las Vegas. I was comfortable there and began attending regular services, Bible studies, prayer meetings, church activities, and the Full Gospel Business Men's Fellowship.
Until this time, I felt no guilt about my homosexuality. I'd lived with it all my life and had learned to accept it. But I started reading the Word of God and discovered the first chapter of Romans and the sixth chapter of First Corinthians. The Bible said my lifestyle was not pleasing to God. I went back to the gay church in Los Angeles and questioned the pastor. His responses didn't line up with what I was reading and I began realizing how wrong this was. I couldn't talk about it with anyone.
I began thinking of myself as a non-practicing homosexual, yet I was still not at peace. Finally, one night I prayed. "Lord, I commit the whole thing to you. I'm gay and your word says it's wrong. I can't change, so I put it in your hands." Things within me started to change from that point on. The Lord was working in my life. I can't explain how God did it—I just know he did. My fantasies started to vanish, and I could hug a Christian brother without feeling awkward and embarrassed. I thought God was doing a unique thing with me—I had never heard of anyone coming out of homosexuality.
On the radio one Saturday night, I heard the anonymous testimony of a married ex-gay. His voice sounded like one of the elders at my church. The next day I questioned him. He answered, "Yes, it was me." He and I shared some of our common experiences and discovered we both had a desire to let others know that God can change lives. We met another man whom God was changing and decided to form a ministry. This was in 1975. The Lord gave us the name, Theophilus, which means "Loved of God." We started telling others about the victory that is in Christ.
The following year, I heard about a meeting in Anaheim, California, concerned with ministry to homosexuals. It was during those meetings in June of 1976 that 55 of us formed a coalition called Exodus International.
I really praise God for what he's done in my life. God has healed me not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well—truly a complete healing. I spent years looking for a solid and secure relationship, but I was looking in the wrong places. I have found that my security is in Jesus Christ. He has satisfied every need in my life. That's something no one else could ever do.
Ron Dennis is the coordinator of Transforming Congregations, an organization working within the UM Church that believes the power of the Holy Spirit is available to transform the life of the homosexual. Ron was married to his wife, Elizabeth, for seven years before she died of cancer several years ago. He is a lay member of the Desert Southwest Annual Conference and District President of United Methodist Men.
This article was published in Good News magazine (November/December 1995).