I inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. It was 12:30 a.m. The faint smell of perfume lingered on me. More regret over yet another broken promise. In less than eight hours, I had to be at church. What would parishioners think of me if they discovered my indiscretions? I’m among the last persons they would suspect capable of such acts. “For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret” (Eph 5:12). I shuddered at the thought. I tried to tell myself that they weren’t hurt by what they didn’t know.
My regret vanished as memories of tonight’s secret pleasures flooded over me. Slow and deep. Hard and fast. Raw and primal. The tingle and the sweat. My heart racing. Her hands grabbing the sheets and clawing my skin. Moans and cries and invocations of the divine. A deep husky groan, that primal sound of release. Just the thought of her hot body pressed against mine made my cock twitch.
So many dirty secrets.
I was raised in a confessional Lutheran church. I serve in lay ministry at a traditional Lutheran parish, primarily responsible for Christian Education and Faith Formation. I am a student at a prestigious divinity school who is a candidate for ordained ministry. I am a capable teacher of God’s Word. I strive to serve others with compassion. I am reserved, polite and quiet by nature, but I’m friendly and well-respected by my peers and parishioners. I’ve been described as “pious,” “kind,” and “gentle.” By all appearances I am living an exemplary Christian life. Nobody suspects any impropriety on my part.
But there’s a darker side to me.
“Have you engaged in any behavior or been involved in any situations that, if they became known by the church, might seriously damage your ability to continue in candidacy for ministry?”
I have been made drunk by the wine of fornication (cf. Rev 17:2).
My peers and parishioners would be scandalized by my behavior. I patronize escorts and bed married women. I’ve had sex in the seminary chapel and the choir loft of my church. A female pastor, a Sunday school teacher, and a deaconess are counted among the well over 100 250 300 400 sexual partners I’ve had. If my secret sins were uncovered, I would be dismissed from ministry. But that doesn’t stop me. My sexual appetite is insatiable. The values I profess have no apparent impact on my conduct. I am a “double-minded man” (Jas 1:8). My behavior has induced a good deal of Lutheran guilt. Yet I can’t resist “the lust of the flesh.”
I write this with fear and trembling. I can’t confide in anyone about my sexual sins for fear of discipline. “I do not understand my own actions” (Rom 7:15).
My life is a dance of dichotomies. I’ve learned to compartmentalize my behavior. I am not the same person on Saturday night that I am on Sunday morning. The “good Phillip” ministers to others and studies theology. The “bad Phillip” cavorts with call girls and has his eye on getting into the panties of the cute new youth minister. I am both light and shadow, unfailingly mindful of Luther’s admonition to “sin boldly.”
Oh well, the devil makes us sin
But we like it when we’re spinning in his grip– Massive Attack, “Paradise Circus”
Lutheran Guilt 