My Own Story of Abuse

“As Simon rubbed the ugly black thing, the family friend moaned,” harder boy, rub it harder. Faster, um, ah, um, yeh, that’s right. Simon did as he said. Soon it got easier. But then it got worse,” it’s a line from Preacha’ Man, my first novel.

“Put it in your mouth, Simon stopped rubbing. He couldn’t believe what he heard. No, Simon cried. Why would he ask me to do that? Simon whispered. He slapped Simon across the face.”

Those lines from my novel rekindle memories from my sore past. It’s a story like so many others - a 10-year-old boy stripped of innocence in the truck of a family friend. The pain of that moment couldn’t be explained. The hurt caused was too deep to share with mother and father. It remained locked within the dark chambers of my subconscious. That’s was until the flashbacks came to haunt me more.

I wrote Preacha’ Man as a way to free the countless others from the brutal condition of having to keep secrets like these. I was afraid to share my story. The power of decision was taken away from me when the memories became stronger than my resolve to keep my thoughts to myself. I was too broken by the past to remain silent. I had to be set free.

Breaking that silence came with a price. Being broken and sharing that in public space can rock the world of a minister trapped in the expectations of those who drop dollars in the collection plate. Sharing a past of dysfunction radically hinders the work of ministry. Telling my truth was the beginning of the end of the work that meant so much to me.

The comments that followed the release of my first book reminded me of why I fought the urge to place those words on paper. “He must have wanted it,” I heard people say. “It proves he is gay,” others said. The backlash that came with paving the way for my own liberation made me wonder if freedom is worth the cost.

I personally grieve whenever I hear a story about boys being abused. It took me weeks to recover from the Catholic Church scandal. I’m still aching due to the lack of justice in the Eddie Long case in Atlanta. The Church seems to miss the mark whenever boys cry foul play by one called to lead the way. The image of the institution seems to mean more than exposing and ending the cycle of pain felt by boys too young to understand what was happening when they were being touched.

Those cover ups and cash settlements may be rooted in a deeper issue. Could it be that our notions of masculinity, even among those not yet men, make it difficult for those engrossed in the merits of gender identity to conceptualize the torment of boys molested by men? Are cover ups and passing the buck a result of a failure to conceive of a way to think about the abuse of boys?

Blaming the victim is a systemic evil that obstructs the pursuit of justice in cases involving sexual abuse. Women tolerate the laundry list of labels attached with being violated: they asked for it or it’s because of their alluring attire. Women have been answerable to how their ways entice those who lack the ability to control the heat.

Added to the complexity of abuse of boys are notions of masculinity. What heartrending assertion comes from institutional decisions to pretend it never happened? What does it say concerning a moral obligation to protect the innocence of those too young to protect themselves? What is said when we close our eyes and make believe it’s not our responsibility to point a finger in the direction of cruelty?

Conversations related to institutional responsibility (be it Penn State, the Catholic Church or Greater New Birth Baptist Church) should not preclude critique of affirmations of identity that minimize the masculinity of boys caught in the web of sexual abuse. Just as a woman raped does not make her a whore; a boy abused does not strip him of legitimate masculinity.

Being raped doesn’t make a person gay. Supplementary in this discussion is the need to affirm the masculinity of those who are gay. Being gay doesn’t surrender legitimate masculine identity. It may define it by different constructs, but it is masculinity all the same.

Pain wrenching discourse is necessary to help both institutions and individuals contend with their feelings related to notions of masculinity after one voices a history of abuse. Needed are ways to affirm those hiding out of fear of being labeled a fraction of a man. Every time an institution covers it up or pays for it to go away, boys like me, still aching from past memories, suffer even more.

They can’t deal with our pain. Maybe I should have never told the truth.

But, it wasn’t my decision.

Eddie Long: Prophet or King

These pictured are allegedly of Bishop Eddie Long taken while he was in a hotel bathroom before sending to the plantiffs of the lawsuit

We should be careful before we throw stones at Bishop Eddie Long. The reputation of the prominent Atlanta minister has been tarnished by the claims of three men that Long, the overseer of Atlanta’s New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, used money and power to coerce them into having sex. The story is not the first time Long has been connected to scandal, but it is the first time the news has captured the attention of the national press.

An investigation by Atlanta Journal-Constitution reporter John Blake uncovered serious questions about the compensation Long collected from the nonprofit, tax-exempt charity he created in 1995 to help the needy and spread the good news. Between 1997 and 2000, Bishop Eddie Long Ministries, Inc. provided its founder with at least $3.07 million in salary, benefits and use of property. In those same four years, the charity only made $3.1 million in other donations. It was impossible to tell to whom those donations went as the records aren’t itemized-a violation of IRS rules.

On the surface, this appears as a tragic epic of a powerful man gone wild due to the trappings of his defects. The press clippings are reminiscent of other clerics unable to tame the demons lurking deep within. The hall of shame is enough to kindle questions related to the motivations of those who decide to give themselves to the call they profess. From Jim Baker to Jimmy Swaggart and all the way back to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., people are left with a sour taste in their souls due to the misconduct of those who verbalize a faith they are unable to reflect in their actions.

As saddening as all of that may be, this is more than a story about a minister who may have been on the down low with boys in his own church. The noise in the crowd is to tag Long a hypocrite if these allegations are true. And, why not? His anti gay message has harmed many of the gay and lesbians in need of a place to worship void of the negative rhetoric that challenges them to change their evil ways as they find their way to Jesus. The real critique of Long transcends a conversation about what happens when the lights go out. We should pause to reflect on both the theology and ethics that make Long’s bent on ministry in grave discord with the elementary claims of the Christian faith.

Eddie Long, T.D. Jakes and Creflo “Give Me Some” Dollars have become the forerunners in shifting the way African American ministers process the design of faith movements. The departure away from the Church as a community of social reconstruction emerged with the awakening that money can be made in that sacred space. The prophets have been transformed into kings and people are more than willing to bow before their leaders and lavish them with impious riches.

These are multi millionaires who hide behind the words of faith to assemble their businesses. Their marketing strategy is to manipulate people into embracing the notion that God desires them to walk with fame and fortune as a way of modeling what could be in the lives of those who sign on the dotted line by dropping money into the collection plate.

This is a story about how Long uses the money dropped in that collection plate. The public wants to know if he had sex with those young men. We want the gruesome details to unlock the closet of Long’s sex life to bring more fuel to the flame that proves the evils of those in the pulpit. Others will claim Long is only human, and we should be careful not to judge him for what each of us is capable of doing.

So true my friends. Ministers are only human, but who placed Long on the pedestal he stands? Who gave him the power to purchase not one, not two, but four Bentley’s. Who gave him the right to stand before his people and rant about his God given right to be a symbol of success for all to praise? Long created a world that imprisoned him into fulfilling the hollowness of his own claims. He made himself into a king, and the people in return worship him for giving them someone human to praise.

25,000 members believe the charade of his prosperity message. It’s a theology that strips the Christ of humility and replaces the crucified Christ with David on the throne. It takes the message of servant hood and trades it in for a system that opens the door to more money in the bank. It seduces people into giving more and more, while their spirits remain bankrupt due to the superficial theological claims erupting from the pulpit.

Yes, these are serious allegations. If true, and we should give this time to play out, Long used his money and power in a way that tarnished the spirit of these three men. If not true, some things are still true. Long, and those who desire to be like him, should be challenged for using God and the work of the kingdom to lace their pockets with mo money.

Some call them pimps in the pulpit. If they’re pimps it’s time for the ho’s to be set free. So, for those who have participated in a work of faith void of theological substance, run away my child. Find a place where people aren’t being tricked and seduced into pouring buckets of money into the lap of the king. Last time I checked the king was killed and rose on the third day.
He didn’t come back looking for a Bentley.

He came looking for men and women carrying crosses on their backs.