In both youth groups and camp ministry, I received the modesty talk on countless occasions. They all had the same basic outline. Our bodies are a temple; we need to keep the temple pure. Anything sexual outside of marriage will dirty the temple. Men are lustful and visual creatures. Women are not as visual and do not deal with lust. I accepted this teaching wholesale. I knew that I was visual, saw my sexuality as a dirty thing, and kept on trying to fight back lust. But I began to notice some problems with modesty talks.

In my years before finding Your Other Brothers, coming to terms with my sexuality was extremely difficult as it seemed there were only two options for my future. These two options reflected the polarized extremes embodying the culture war.

Many conservative Christians believe that gay men should not only give up gay sex but also deliberately choose to dress, speak, and act more masculinely. A well-known Christian ministry posted an article last year that expressed the view that men with feminine mannerisms and dress are literally going to hell if they don't stop.

I feel my Christian community lacking and also the LGBTQ+ community lacking. What is one supposed to do? I think we Christians who are LGBTQ+/SSA can and must push a more compelling narrative – one rooted in the Bible. The church is for all who are repentant, not just the straight ones who are repentant.

The Covid-19 pandemic has become something of an "isolation equalizer." People everywhere are living in tension and isolation with businesses closed, services restricted, and life as we've known it ground to a halt. We are, all of us, isolated. And yet there is tremendous opportunity to unite in our shared isolation.

Before all the lockdowns started as the coronavirus pandemic spread around the world, I started writing this reflection about how my experience in the "Side B" bubble could play a bigger part in the Church and, in turn, the wider world around me. When this whole pandemic broke out I thought, What better time to play our part but now?

I believe what Scripture says regarding a traditional sexual ethic. But more than that, I believe in the God behind that ethic and that his Word is still good for me, even if it's not always easy to follow.

Stories have power, and people love them for it. As such, that power can misused. The power of a story can be wielded in a way that causes untold damage and pain. As I've done more and more to reach LGBTQ+ individuals outside the church, I've had to face a stark reality: Christians have abused select people's stories to the detriment of the Gospel.

If we want to win hearts, we have to ask better questions. How do we win hearts? We win hearts with good news. I want people in my church community to ask themselves, "What is the good news for LGBT+ people in our marriage ethic?"

I've been traveling and meeting so many other likeminded gay or same-sex attracted (SSA) individuals for the past few years. In my many interactions, I've picked up on so many commonalities. I have rediscovered the age-old truth that God can take the seemingly darkest, hardest things in our lives and use them for something incredibly good.

I experience same-sex sexual attraction, which I regard as a temptation to sin. I definitely believe that all gay sex is sin, so I fight that temptation with God's help. Despite these sexual feelings for men, I just can't bring myself to say I am gay.

God and I are going to have some time alone together at the beginning of the next life. For the wounds to heal, for the scars to fade, and for the tears to become mere memory. I used to think healing would happen in an instant, but I'm not sure that's how healing works anymore.

A same-sex celibate partnership is an intimate coupling between two same-sex attracted or gay-identifying individuals. Bonded for life in a way similar to marriage but, of course, minus the sex. I have already seen a few celibate couplings form between guys. I've been mostly watching from a distance, but other times I've contacted those folks to ask questions. Sometimes I view them with a lot of envy.

Here at Your Other Brothers, we've shared advice for coming out, but what if someone comes out to you? I've compiled a non-exhaustive list of pointers and things to keep in mind when someone comes out to you.

Shortly after becoming a Christian, I decided no longer to care about the denomination of the church I attended. It's worked out well so far. What's more, this new mindset has given me a bird's eye view of the Church and sexuality.

I came to see how often the word "brother" was being used around me. The word was being thrown around constantly. And I saw that I was one of the ones who used "brother" the most. In my desire to embrace this new brotherhood, I had actually started ruining the word for myself. I had worn out this once meaningful word until I couldn't even bear to say it anymore.

The vast majority of "Queer Eye" is not even addressing sex; it is addressing prejudice, shame, and loneliness. I have experienced shame, the idea that I am simply unlovable. I even believed for many years that God hated me, that God himself couldn’t even love me.

If telling someone I'm gay allows me to be a light in their life, then I will do it. If saying I am SSA Side B allows me to be a light in their life, I will do that as well. At the end of the day, my desires are secondary to the Great Commission, God's call on the life of every Christian.

I definitely don't know some of my other brothers like I know my friends. I still consider them my brothers, though. We still fight alongside each other.

This isn't about same-sex marriage. It's not even about Eugene Peterson or LifeWay. It's about a significant sliver of stories going untold.