The minister opened his address by saying, “It is with great pride that I stand here to start the debate on the Conversion Practices Prohibition Legislation Bill. It gives effect to a Labour Party manifesto commitment at the last election and I want to begin by acknowledging the LGBTQI+ community, our own rainbow caucus, rainbow members of this Parliament, Rainbow Labour, the Young Greens and our young Labour rainbow members who took a petition to Parliament in 2018.”

He added, “Those who have experienced conversion practices talk about ongoing mental health distress, depression, shame and stigma, and even suicidal thoughts.

“Conversion practices have no place in modern New Zealand. They are based on the false belief that any person’s sexual orientation, gender identity or gender expression is broken and in need of fixing.”

The bill passed its first reading - 87 MPs voted in favour and 33 NZ National party members voted against. The Justice Select Committee will consider more than 100,000 public submissions before the Bill has its next reading in 2022.

For one Methodist survivor of conversion therapy practices, the passing of the Bill has been welcomed. However, a powerful statement supporting the change in legislation issued by Trinity Methodist Theological College has had an even more profound and personal impact. Alex* shares their story with Ady Shannon.

*A pseudonym has been used, not because they are opposed to having their name published but because their story is the story of many who have been through the experience of conversion therapy and they do not want gender or name to disengage people from the story.

Praying the Gay Away Never Works

A survivor shares their story

“Retrospectively, I always knew I was gay. I just never had the language for it.” Raised in a conservative environment – socially, politically, culturally and religiously - for Alex, the youngest of five children, being gay was cause for shame. “I lied about it. Being gay was an anathema to my upbringing, our social circles, our way of life, and the church. It was illegal. I was ashamed and incredibly isolated. My response was to deny, deny, deny my sexuality. To pretend to be something I wasn’t. It was a destructive way of living.” When confirmed into the Methodist Church in the early 1970s, Alex’s friends were focussed on parties, drinking and work. Church was not a part of that environment. It was considered boring and irrelevant so Alex stopped attending.

“By the mid-1980s, I acknowledged to myself that I was gay but I didn’t want to be. Why would I? The social language was derogatory and hateful. I felt that I would be further isolated and lose my family and my friends as well as work opportunities. Society was not a kind place for someone to ‘be different’.” Re-engaging with church, Alex attended a Pentecostal church. Being “out” was not an option. In a desperate need to feel included and “normal” Alex shared with their pastor the struggle with their sexual orientation. “The pastor and a small group prayed with me. Casting out demons, deliverance sessions, immersing me in scripture, prayer and being open to God’s Spirit was the way I could be changed. My understanding of faith was that it was evil to be gay. I had a choice to make and I could choose not to be gay. Gay was not what God wanted.”

Giving every spare moment to the development of faith offered some reprieve from the thoughts and feeling of same-sex attraction. Having a sense of call to missionary work overseas, Alex spent some time in the field, returning to New Zealand to undertake theological training at the Bible College of NZ (now Laidlaw College).

“During my time at Bible College, the same-sex attraction reared its head and caused me significant angst. Being gay was considered a sin and the message was that I could choose not to be gay. College elders enrolled me in Living Waters, a conversion therapy programme where I joined several other gay Christians and two or three leaders for weekly meetings. The message was clear. You cannot be gay and be a Christian. The premise was that being gay means something is broken. You can be fixed. Not being Christian was not an option for me.”

Over 20 weeks in group sessions, Alex and the others in the group were told repeatedly that their psychosexual development was impaired because of 1) trauma 2) abuse and/or 3) bad parenting.

“None of us truly analysed what was happening. Not one of us wanted to be gay. It was constantly about blame and shame. If you were still having feelings you weren’t praying or working hard enough. After those group sessions, I attended one-on-one counselling sessions for a year. I was still experiencing same sex attraction - the therapy hadn’t worked so I undertook another 20-week group session a year later. I still thought I could be healed.

“While finishing my degree I still felt I was called into ministry I had endured years of being unsuccessful in my conversion and being constantly told, ‘You can’t be Christian and gay’. This put me in a real dilemma. I WAS gay. Did this mean that I had to give up my faith? Did it mean that I would never be acceptable to God? To try and live the lie of not being gay was killing my identity, my sense of worth and self. To live without my faith, my relationship with God would also be a spiritual death sentence. In a place of such darkness and despair, I felt there was only one way out. If I couldn’t be one without the other, I saw no point in living. I was dead inside. Driving on the Auckland motorway after a counselling session, I decided ‘no more’. Deciding to take my own life, I turned my car to the central concrete barrier. The next thing I knew I was on the grass berm on the outside lane. I heard a voice, saying firmly, ‘Who told you you are not my beloved.’ It was such a profound moment. I have no recall of how I avoided the concrete barrier and swerved towards the grass but all of a sudden, it was like God was admonishing me and affirming me at the same time.

“I left the Pentecostal church I had been attending and decided to explore further my Methodist roots. I had heard that the Methodist Church was strong on social justice and inclusive. I began attending a cooperating parish and the Presbyterian minister was very warm and supportive. I spent the next decade healing myself of the shame that I had carried for 30 years or more.”

Doing a paper at Trinity College offered Alex a new perspective. “I could see how evil this conversion practice really was. I was wiser and picked a different kind of counsellor to work through my past. In 2003, I came ‘out’ but then the church was struggling with gay people and leadership. I was advised not to openly discuss my sexuality. It felt as though I was being shoved back in the closet again. I was happy to be a celibate gay person but finding my life partner changed that.

”In 2018, a New Zealand documentary called Pray the gay away – Homosexual conversion therapy happening in NZ was aired.Three years later, there are still churches that perceive homosexuality as a sin. Conversion therapy still exists in various formats often under the guise of offering faith-based counselling or prayer groups.

“Everyone wants to belong, so if there is a threat of not belonging because of your sexuality there is the threat of losing friends, family and community. Over the past 20 years, I have walked alongside many whose story is the same as mine. And the percentage of those admitting to wanting to take their own life is very high. I have never met anyone for whom conversion therapy has worked. For me it is a form of spiritual genocide. There are so many harmful side effects: shame, guilt, helplessness, hopelessness, depression, social withdrawal, substance abuse and suicide.

“The statement from Trinity College is the most solid response I have seen from the faith community. It has been incredibly healing to have that strong and affirming message that says, ‘We consider conversion therapy as inherently evil as it diagnoses sexual and gender minorities as “sick” and “sinful.”’ It takes away all the evil messaging directed at people whose sexuality is not heterosexual and affirms my identity.

“Reading the statement brought back afresh to me all the things I went through. Like many others, I have been broken by conversion therapy. That kind of brainwashing kills a person’s faith, humanity, spirituality and their very identity.

“Those who are struggling with identity need support to explore their identity with honesty and love. With affirmation and inclusion - not a predisposed ideology that says this needs to be the outcome. The only outcome that should be sought by the Christian community is a healthy relationship with God who is loving, who says you are loved. You do belong. Isn’t that what we all want - to belong?

“I am at peace with myself and those who were part of my journey. Although I would not wish the experience of conversion therapy on anyone, it has made me who I am. Broken yet healing, strong yet soft, grateful yet intolerant of exclusion in all of its forms. Society has changed significantly over the past 30 years. Gender diversity is no longer an issue for the generations that have come after mine. I understand that it is not about me that people can’t deal with gender diversity – it is about them. My number one prayer is that churches become a place where humanity in all its diversity is considered sacred.”

If this story has triggered memories for you please consider approaching a mental health professional. If you would like to contact the Rainbow Methodist Community, please contact the Editor for further information.

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