Between These Walls (43 page)

“How are you doing these days, Hunter?”

Hunter turned off the stereo shelf system in his living room and switched his cell phone to speaker mode. “It’s okay.”

“Didn’t see you at church today,” Al said in a tone that suggested he didn’t want to prod into Hunter’s privacy.

“I got there a few minutes late, that’s all.” Hunter decided not to mention his visit to the other church that morning since it would accomplish nothing.

He heard Al hesitate before saying, “Hunter, I wanted to call to say I stand by you. I mentioned it to you a while back at Bible study, but I thought it worth saying again. I love you, man—you know, in a Christian way.”

“Thanks, Al. I appreciate that.” Hunter’s muscles relaxed. He sat cross-legged on the sofa.

“Not an easy situation, huh?”

“No, but I have a few people in my corner letting me know they’re here for me. That means more than you know.”

“Glad to hear that,” Al said. “I’d imagine it’s a lot to process.”

“It is. Seeing your status quo come crashing down around you takes you by surprise. It’s not something you’d wish for.”

“You’re a good guy. I don’t know of anyone who would wish trouble on you,” said Al. “Of course, technically, you did make a choice here, and—”

“A choice?” Hunter said, careful to maintain an even tone. “What do you mean, a choice?”

“A choice in the sense that you chose it somewhere along the way, right? You didn’t choose to have things come to light the way they did. But the deeper issue—we both realize that’s a choice, right?”

Hunter found the direction of Al’s conversation perplexing. Was it intended as a phone call of support, or was it to counsel him in some way? “I’ve heard people say it’s a choice, but I have trouble finding where I was given the opportunity to choose it.”

“Well, I don’t think you were
born
that way, do you?”

The conversation took Hunter off guard and made him feel awkward.

“I don’t know
how
I wound up dealing with this,” Hunter said. “Sure, I chose my actions with Gabe, if that’s what you mean. But I didn’t choose to be
attracted
to him. Or to anyone else, for that matter. I don’t remember making a choice. You’re attracted to your wife, but I doubt you woke up one day and decided to find her attractive. Wasn’t it something that just happened?”

Al kept his tone casual in response, but Hunter perceived this wasn’t how Al had intended their chat to unfold. “I’ve heard some people say it’s what you concentrate on. Could that be a factor?”

“All I know is it showed up somewhere along the way in my life. I tried to deny those ... attractions. I tried to stifle them. I tried to pray them away. Believe me, I didn’t
want
this. It sucks. It’s been torture ever since I was a kid. I
wish
I’d been given a multiple-choice test—I would’ve picked another option.”

At an obvious lack of answers, Al paused. “Is it possible you just need more faith?”

In his heart, Hunter knew that wasn’t the case. If anything, he had drawn
closer
to Christ during his years of nonstop introspection. Nobody knew about those personal times Hunter spent—just God and him—soaking in God’s presence ... worshipping Him ... telling Him how much he loved Him ... seeking a closer walk with Him. Hunter sought closer proximity to God’s heart simply because he
loved
God, not even to
receive
anything out of it. Hunter knew, without a doubt, his faith was sincere and full of ardent fire. But he kept that day-to-day intimacy with God unspoken to others.

“I don’t think it’s a matter of faith, Al. My faith hasn’t changed. It’s as fervent as it was a few months ago, a few
years
ago. Granted, I don’t have it all figured out, but it’s too simple to call my feelings a choice. I’m not sure this is something I can change.”

“Look, Hunter.” Hunter picked up frustration in Al’s voice, as though the man had hoped to solve everything in one phone call but had collided with a situation more difficult than he’d anticipated. “I want what’s best for you, so I’m trying to help. And as hard as what you’re going through might seem, it
is
a choice. The fact is, God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve—”

Hunter’s jaw almost dropped. “I can’t believe you resorted to a cliché.”

No doubt, Al meant well and possessed genuine concern for Hunter. At the same time, however, this illustrated why Hunter had kept a secret for so many years. Couldn’t people see him for who he was, consider the notions that churned in his heart, and quit jumping to conclusions about
why
he felt the way he did when
he himself
couldn’t figure it out?

“I appreciate your concern, Al. You’re a good person. But let me explain something most people don’t seem to understand,” Hunter said. “This isn’t a cliché to me. It’s not a witty play on words. This might seem like a game to people, a debate to win, but this is
my life
we’re talking about. You might be able to make a clever remark and move on, but
I’m
the one who sheds tears at night.
I’m
the one who’s trying to come to terms with my core.”

Hunter paused a beat.

“Look,” Hunter said, “it’s been a confusing few months—years—
life.
Do you think maybe we could talk about this later? I appreciate your trying to encourage me. It means a lot. But I don’t think I’m at a point where I can talk to many people about it. Can you respect that?”

“Sure, Hunter.”

Thankful to end the call on good terms, Hunter set his phone on the coffee table.

Doesn’t anyone out there have a clue what this is like?
Hunter wondered.
Someone who’s been in my shoes besides Gabe?

CHAPTER 42

It felt like treading on foreign soil. The little church with the stained glass window had expanded decades earlier via a brick wing on one side. Unlike the oak door he had opened two days earlier, the door that led to the church office was white with decorative trim, the kind you would find on an ordinary house.

Hunter didn’t know why he had come. But if the minister intended to preach about him, Hunter felt the man should, at least, meet him. Maybe he wanted the minister to know Hunter Carlisle wasn’t a bad person.

“May I help you?” asked the church secretary, who looked like a soccer mom with hair that curled not far below her ears.

“I wondered if the pastor is in. If we could talk, please.”

She examined Hunter and asked, “Are you a member here?”

“No ma’am, I’d simply like to talk with the pastor, if that’s okay.”

Before he’d finished speaking, a door opened behind the woman and the minister walked through. Hunter caught sight of bookshelves in the room on the other side of the doorway. Dropping a file folder into the inbox on the secretary’s desk, the man regarded Hunter.

“Can I help you, young man?”

Young man?

Hunter glanced at the secretary, who continued to focus on him as well, now grafted into the conversation by virtue of their stances beside her desk.

“I listened to your sermon on Sunday,” Hunter said, “and had some questions, I guess.”

At the mention of his sermon, the minister straightened his posture a tad. A pleased look entered his eyes.

“Come in,” said the minister, extending his arm toward his office. He followed Hunter in and closed the door. “Have a seat.”

Though he had shed his white robe for the week, the minister wore a standard clerical collar with a black shirt. The man had switched crosses since Sunday and, today, wore a wooden cross with metal trimmings, also three inches long. A nameplate on his desk read,
Rev. Dr. Rodney Harper.

“I’m Reverend Harper,” he said with a handshake.

“Hunter Carlisle.”

No reaction from the minister at the mention of Hunter’s name. Perhaps he knew Hunter and Gabe by reputation alone, not by name. At the man’s invitation, Hunter took a seat in front of a large desk. Facing Hunter from the opposite side of the desk, Reverend Harper pressed his fingertips together into the shape of a steeple. The man kept his posture rigid as he sat.

His penetrating stare made Hunter uncomfortable. Hunter questioned whether he should have come at all. Then again, getting up and leaving seemed ridiculous.

“You mentioned Sunday’s sermon.”

“Yes. Your sermon—series. Well, I thought maybe your sermons came about because of ... rumors about a ...
couple
... in town.”

Was
couple
the right word? Even today, it sounded odd to Hunter.

“I saw an issue in the community that needed to be addressed, yes.”

Hunter tensed, scratching the back of his neck. How should he go about saying this?

“Well, sir, I’m the person you’re preaching about.”

Motionless in his chair, the man reduced the tension in his fingertips but kept them steepled. Though he didn’t break his stare, Hunter watched as a pointed look crept into the man’s eyes. He remained silent, waiting for Hunter to say more, so Hunter decided to forge ahead.

“I guess I wanted to stop by your office and let you know I’m not a bad person.”

Reverend Harper considered Hunter’s words.

“Well, Hunter, I’m sure you’re a good person,” he said, “but God is clear on how He feels about homosexuality.”

“To someone wrestling with it firsthand, your words on Sunday sounded a bit harsh.”

“It’s a harsh subject. As I said on Sunday, God destroyed two cities because of homosexuality: Sodom and Gomorrah.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. I don’t know why, but as a Christian, it doesn’t sound like the God I know, to single out one thing and treat it as worse than the others. To destroy a group of people because of one sin when He sees
all
sin as what separated people from God.”

Reverend Harper swiveled in his chair and retrieved a Bible from a bookshelf that loomed behind him.

“Let me show you something, Hunter.” The minister paged through the Bible and opened it to the book of Genesis, chapter 18. He ran his finger down the page as he scanned the text, then pointed to a verse, turning the Bible so both he and Hunter could read the text. “Verse 20 says,
‘And the LORD said, “The outcry of Sodom and Gomorrah is indeed great, and their sin is exceedingly grave”’
—
exceedingly grave,
God says.” The minister paged forward. “The Bible gives us a view of what that sin was, the night before God destroyed the city in chapter 19. Two angels came to the city dressed like regular men and came to stay at the home of a righteous man named Lot:
‘Before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, surrounded the house, both young and old, all the people from every quarter; and they called to Lot and said to him, “Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may have relations with them.”’
“ He gave Hunter a direct stare. “Do you know what the men were talking about when they said, ‘have relations?’“

“Yes, I do.”

“They were men seeking to have relations with other men. That’s why God destroyed the city. God spared Lot and his family; those other men were dead by the next day. And God does not want that event forgotten. He recalls it in the book of Ezekiel.”

The minister paged more than halfway through the Bible, stopping at the book of Ezekiel.

“Chapter 16, verses 49 and 50 show us God considered their actions not just sin, but an
abomination:
‘Behold, this was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had arrogance, abundant food and careless ease, but she did not help the poor and needy. Thus they were haughty and committed abominations before Me. Therefore I removed them when I saw it.’
“

Hunter stared at the page, poring over the verses again and again, searching for some sign of God’s mercy, the mercy Hunter had come to know so well. The familiar feelings of pain and guilt sank into his gut, the way they had when he’d read those verses many times before.

Reaching the end of the verses, he started over a fourth time, biding his time, hating the awkward silence in the room.

Then, as he read the words phrase by phrase, a thought occurred to him.

“Wait,” Hunter said. “It doesn’t mention anything about homosexuality.”

“What?”

“Look here.” Without intending disrespect, Hunter pointed to the verses. “There’s nothing sexual on the list. It gives a whole list of reasons why God destroyed the city, though. So isn’t it saying God destroyed the city because of lots of different sins, not just one?”

Reverend Harper smirked. “We can deduce sexual sin from the verses in Genesis.”

“But weren’t there women in Sodom and Gomorrah?”

“Of course there were, Hunter. That’s the point: The men rejected relations with women for relations with other men.”

“No, I mean, the
whole cities
were destroyed. That means the
women
got destroyed too, right? The Bible doesn’t say
they
committed anything sexual with other women—it only mentions the men did that. So if the women were also destroyed, the destruction
must
have been because of more than just the men’s sexual relations, right? Like it says in these verses: arrogance, haughtiness, not caring for the poor—”

Hunter looked up. The minister appeared stunned.

For once, Hunter began to find an inkling of relief for his soul.

“Didn’t God know we would have our shortcomings?” Hunter said. “Everyone has issues they deal with. Doesn’t He walk through them with us? When I look at how Jesus treated the Samaritan woman at the well, the one who had a sordid past, I can see He didn’t point a finger at her and He didn’t try to destroy her.

“Or how about the woman caught in adultery, when the religious leaders were about to stone her? Or Mary Magdalene—rejected by others, but she ended up being the first person Jesus appeared to after He rose from the dead. It seems to me that Jesus is patient, walks with us, cheers us on as we press through. We aren’t perfect, but we take it step by step—like the Bible says, we work out our salvation with fear and trembling. We make mistakes, but we love God and have reverence for Him in our hearts.”