51 - Facing Fears vs Playing With Fire Part 1

In Autumn of 2025, an article of personal insights about repenting from same sex attractions by Stephen Moss was published by Harvest USA in their newsletter. (Page 4.) In contrast, an interview with his former ministry co-worker, Nate Collins, was posted by Preston Sprinkle. Both of these men seek to respond to their temptations for the same sex in obedience to Jesus, yet with quite different approaches.

We were introduced to Stephen Moss in “Revoice ’22 Review – Part VII, Encouragement, Bridges, and Breaking Free.”[1] In an interview, Moss recalled co-creating the idea for the initial Revoice conference with Nate Collins. He served as Conference Coordinator and Vice President of Operations for Revoice until June of 2020. Then he began asking himself some of the same questions Sprinkle asks Collins in their recent interview, yet Moss realized he was putting limitations on the work of the Holy Spirit in his life.

Collins describes the vision for Revoice:

…there was a need for a space for those of us who are gay and Christian and adhere to a traditional sexual ethic to gather and just be together, be together in a place where we could feel that we belonged, where we could worship together. We could be taught. …We had our first conference in 2018. And it really was just that experience of feeling like you belonged.[2]

Note how Collins uses “gay” as a categorical descriptor, referring to the collective group as “we” throughout this paragraph. The common denominator is experiencing a type of temptation to sin, instead of the unity brought about through repentance, redemption, and restoration from sin. The salvation, sanctification, and transformation found in Christ cuts through all the divisions humans have devised – those of race, class, financial standing, age, ethnicity, etc., bringing us into the Body of Christ as brothers and sisters in His family. We’ll return to the impact of a sense of belonging in this series.

A few minutes later in his interview, Collins admits that sexual orientation is not a Biblical concept:

You have to really nuance on some of these things because orientation is a really complex category. It’s not a category that is directly found in Scripture. And so we have to do a little creative theologizing when we think about. You know orient, uh, desire, and anthropology, and things like that. So you know we did get, you know, quite a bit of um, pushback early on.

One of the main themes found among the speakers at Revoice conferences is “creative theologizing” – attempting to shoehorn the category of sexual orientation into Scripture.[3] Although Collins says that the pushback Revoice received was “early on” regarding these matters, it continues to this day. When a ministry is built upon the wrong foundation – in this case, a poor understanding of what it means to be human (anthropology based on sexual orientation) – it leads to faulty ministry practices. We’ve documented the extremes to which people are taking the concept of “committed friendships” for one example.[4] Speakers featured at Revoice have also speculated that same sex sexual attractions occurred before the Fall of Adam and Eve and will exist in heaven.[5]

Collins does not believe that labeling himself as a “gay Christian” has any deep or lasting impact on his life:

I’ve always tried to think through primarily through a doctrinal lens in terms of theological anthropology. Who does God create us to be? And so for me as a gay man, God created me to be— with sexuality that was intended to function a particular way. And so when I think of what it looks like to have a non-straight orientation or a gay orientation, that immediately throws a wrench into how sexuality is intended to happen. And so, when I think about implications of using a word like ‘gay,’ I’m thinking about, well, what’s that say about... Does that say anything about my identity as a man that I would not want it to say? And I don’t think it does.

…. Um, so that for me to say I’m a gay man does not mean that I’m giving up any kind of hope that God could, could make that a different struggle for me. I do think that I can say I’m gay and continue to hope that God will make it less of a struggle for me.

Stephen Moss, however, outlines specific ways in which seeing himself as a “celibate gay Christian” was limiting his growth in Christ. First, he writes about recognizing a pattern in his social circles:

I Had Become Tribal

… I’m eating a burger in a gay bar. It wasn’t my choice, but another celibate gay friend had suggested our group get dinner there, assuring us it wasn’t a “hook-up bar,” and I didn’t argue. As we sat there, surrounded by other gay people just eating burgers, I felt a sense of “home.” Despite my radically different sexual ethics, I felt normal in this gay bar. I felt at ease…but I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

After years of feeling different and misunderstood, my close-knit community of other gay, celibate Christians also felt like home. It was more than just a common sin struggle that bound us together. We had a common faith and a lot of common interests. Unlike other Christian spaces we had occupied, we felt seen, understood, and normal in our little enclave. It was certainly more than our sin that bound us together…but it was not less. We were family because we were gay.

Indeed, I started to notice that most of my friends identified as gay, like me. I was investing the bulk of my relational energy into my gay family, not my church family. It was so much easier. The church had become my theological affinity group, but the celibate gay community had become “my tribe.”

It’s easy to convince yourself that you need to be in a group of other people with similar struggles to “belong.” The Lord has a much greater plan for us – Christians are family because we are His. The second realization Moss relays was rooted in trying to shape the perceptions of others:

I Had Traded One Set of Stereotypes for Another

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tugging at my new floral-print shirt. I hated how it clung to my gut . . . and what was wrong with my hair? It was the first night of a gay Christian conference I helped organize, but I didn’t care about looking nice or professional—I wanted to look good. I wanted to look desirable. To be quite honest, I wanted to look gay.

I had been relieved to escape the cultural pressure of masculine stereotypes when I first started identifying myself as gay. But, as time passed, I found new sets of expectations for what gay men were supposed to look and act like, even celibate gay men. Some expectations, like enthusiasm for brunch and musical theater, came easy for me. Others, like being put-together and dressing with style, were less natural, though I gave it my best shot. Still others, like having a body that other guys envied, felt entirely out of my grasp.

As I stared at myself in the mirror, hoping I looked gay enough, I remembered how I used to look in the mirror, hoping I looked straight enough. I’d simply traded one set of unbiblical male stereotypes for another. Rather than dressing for respect or modesty, I was dressing for provocation. I wanted the world—specifically, other gay men—to look at me and know the desires of my heart, even if I had no intention of acting on them.

The first night of what I am assuming was one of the early Revoice conferences, Moss wanted to embody the look and mannerisms of a stereotypically desirable gay man, while having “no intention of acting on” those temptations. When leaving homosexuality behind in pursuit of an eternal, life-giving relationship with Jesus, sometimes one has to discern what was part of the old, sinful subculture and what is part of the new Christian counter-culture. For some folks, this can mean new hairstyles and wardrobes.[6] Merely adjusting to a new stereotype won’t do, however. We don’t grow in the Lord through taking shortcuts. He works on us from the inside out. We can ask Him to help us understand why we’re making the choices we do in how we present ourselves to others through our clothes, mannerisms, words, etc. I’m reminded of this quote:

“Give me all. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work. I want You. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half measures are any good. I don’t want to cut off a branch here and a branch there, I want to have the whole tree down. I don’t want to drill the tooth, or crown it, or stop it, but to have it out. Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked—the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: my own will shall become yours.” ~ CS Lewis, Mere Christianity

In submitting all of ourselves to Him, we find out who we truly are.

Another insight Moss shares is how he had made excuses for sin:

I Had Made Peace with My Sin

“He’s here,” I texted my friends from the coffee shop. “The cute barista.”

They all knew who I was talking about. I had mentioned him…frequently.

“LOL,” texted back one of my friends. “Are you sure this is helpful for you?”

I rolled my eyes. Was he shaming me now for being honest?

“Ha, maybe not,” I texted back, annoyed.

When I first started sharing my testimony about same-sex attraction, the honesty felt like a rush of adrenaline. I grew up lying (or telling creative half-truths) even to my closest friends about things like crushes, sin struggles, or why I broke up with my girlfriend. But now I could be honest about everything, letting light shine into the darkness. It was invigorating.

But honesty for Christians is not an end in itself. There are a lot of radically honest accountability groups where everyone shares, and no one changes. As I got more comfortable sharing about my desires without challenge or repentance, those desires started to feel more normal.

Saying “he’s adorable” felt no different than saying “it’s raining” or “I’m in the mood for pizza tonight.” Objectifying comments and lingering glances at men felt harmless. I was just looking, after all . . . not touching. As I watched the barista pull a shot of espresso, it occurred to me that I didn’t even know his name.

When we label ourselves as “gay” or “lesbian” or “trans,” it provides a false explanation for who we are and how we see the world. Earlier, we read Collins state, “I do think that I can say I’m gay and continue to hope that God will make it less of a struggle for me.” That is like playing with fire while asking God not to allow us to get burned.

We’ll continue to examine the contrasts between these two approaches to ministry in the next edition of R4R.

[1] R4R, Nov 28, 2022

[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRiTdYT9ynU

[3] See: Revoice ’22 Review – Part II, Confusing Messages, Nov 01, 2022; Revoice ’22 Review – Part V, Bad Analogies and Presumptions, Nov 21, 2022; Revoice ’22 Review – Part VI, More Bad Analogies and Presumptions, Nov 23, 2022

[4] Bad Idea Jeans – A Paper on Celibate Partnerships, Part VII Manipulation

Same Sex Attraction / Discipleship / Church / Counseling / Pastors, Aug 3, 2023

Bad Idea Jeans – A Paper on Celibate Partnerships, Part VI Boundaries

Same Sex Attraction / Discipleship / Church / Counseling / Pastors, Aug 1, 2023

Bad Idea Jeans – A Paper on Celibate Partnerships, Part V Family Confusion

Same Sex Attraction / Discipleship / Church / Counseling / Pastors, Jul 27, 2023

Bad Idea Jeans – A Paper on Celibate Partnerships, Part IV Lost the Plot

Same Sex Attraction / Discipleship / Church / Counseling / Pastors, Jul 18, 2023

Bad Idea Jeans – A Paper on Celibate Partnerships, Part III Fixation

Same Sex Attraction / Discipleship / Church / Counseling / Pastors, Jul 13, 2023

Bad Idea Jeans – A Paper on Celibate Partnerships, Part II

Same Sex Attraction / Discipleship / Church / Counseling / Pastors, Jul 11, 2023

Bad Idea Jeans – A Paper on Celibate Partnerships, Part I Framework

Same Sex Attraction / Discipleship / Church / Counseling / Pastors, Jul 6, 2023

[5] See: A Framework of Bad Ideas – A Book Review, Part II, Jul 07, 2022; Will I Be Gay in the Resurrection?, March 10, 2015, Wesley Hill

[6] I can recall purposefully wearing a blazer to church like a flak jacket of protection when we were covering Ephesians chapter 5, expecting a misogynistic take on the passage. To my surprise, the pastor emphasized the context of sacrificial love for one another found in verse 21 to help us understand the rest of the chapter. There was no need for me to brace myself with masculine clothing. It took a long time to work through my wardrobe, gradually donating pieces and adding others while working through the underlying assumptions and associations that went with each. The Lord gently crafted in me a greater sense of security and joy in being a woman of God, and that is hopefully reflected in what I wear. That process of discernment also builds greater intimacy with Jesus.