So there I was, in Rochester, NY visiting with my friend Katie Jo (KJ) who hosts a special time out there in Rochester called “Margarita Ministry.”  KJ has a few friends there who are either finishing up with school to become clergy, have finished seminary and are seeking ordination, or are somewhere in between.  They are a lovely group of diverse people who consist of American Baptist, Presbyters, and other denominations. I am kind of a wildcard in this group because for the most part it is a liturgical group of folks, and well my little church is liturgical at times, but a little different as far as style of worship and service and such.  Either way they accept me as one of their own and have treated me wonderfully. The idea behind Margarita Ministry is kind of obvious by the name, but for those that did not catch on or are curious, we all get together at a restaurant called Mex in Rochester and well, drink margaritas and chat and just hang out.  It is a whole lot of fun. However, two weeks ago was even more fun and excitement than I had initially planned for.  After we were sufficiently margarita’d that Thursday night one of the pastors in our group said “hey, anyone want to go to a gay bar with me?” Of course with this group of folks you never know what answer you might get to any number of requests on any given night, but the overall response was “yes!”  I too was very excited about the prospect of going to a gay bar with this crowd.  For one, I had never been to one.  It’s not that I have an issue with gay bars; it is just that I am usually a bit fearful of going to new places and experiencing new things by myself.  So here was my opportunity.  I was going to a genuine gay bar with my genuinely gay friend and a couple of lady pastors. My friend seemed to expect the others to say yes, but he did a double-take when I said “sure.”  He said “John, are you serious?  You want to go to a gay bar with me?”  I said “Of course, yes!”  He seemed genuinely happy at my response and so we were off.  We all loaded into cars and drove to the bar. The place was called 140 Alex Bar & Grill -- a simple enough place on the outside.  It was a typical bar, just like the kind you see in New York all the time.  You walk in and there is a long counter off to the right, not very cramped and there were people all over.  Of course, there was one obvious difference.  There were mostly men in this bar.  In fact KJ and the other woman pastor who came along were like the only ladies in the bar. It took me only a few minutes before I began to realize at first, subtle differences in the clientele as opposed to customers in a straight bar.  But, I soon realized that the differences were in fact major and really good things.  It soon became obvious why any young man would want to hang out at a place like this.  The men in this bar were “real men.”  By real men, I mean several things.  Here were my observations:

1.  They were not hung up on themselves.
2. They were not trying to put off some kind of aura of masculinity.
3. They were not posturing around each other and competing for attention.
4. They were easy going fellas that laughed a lot.
5. They were overwhelmingly welcoming and easy to chat with.
6. The utter lack of pretense was astonishing.

I immediately fell in with them and was accepted by them as a person and was made to feel welcome among them.  Even after finding out that I was not gay, the friendliness and interest continued.  Now I cannot speak for every gay bar everywhere, but I really got the sense that I could stand to learn a few things from these folks. It occurred to me also that Mark Driscoll is wrong about men.  He is just plain wrong.  All of this talk about being overtly masculine and how men should dominate and posture themselves and fight and be tough and act like “real men.”  He is wrong. What I saw that night at that bar were real men.  We could all stand to learn a few things from them.  I could understand how people who might have had father issues or issues with other boys growing up might find some kind of redemption and affirmation as a man at a place like this. Straight bars Let me take you through a classic scenario as a man entering a straight bar.  First off you walk through the door and make sure not to make eye contact with anyone.  You look for the first break in the bar where you can wedge yourself in to make your drink order making sure not to accidently bump into or touch any of the guys at the bar because you never know who might be in fight-mode. You make your order quickly and with a loud voice making sure to sound tough, so no one will mess with you.  You get your drink(s) and pay and sit down, again making sure not to look directly at anyone unless they are looking at you.  If it is a guy and they are looking at you, you stare them down until they look away.  Then you scope the place out slowly while taking swigs of your beer.  You will see a few of the classic male types at the bar.  There is the guy that is on his laptop, head down focused on work and drinking and maybe eating something. There is the guy who is with the girl who is quickly staring down anyone who even might be checking her out.  There is the loner in the corner that seems to emanate masculinity, testosterone, and a little anger.   Don’t look at him and don’t go near him.  Then you have the crowd of co-workers that don’t really talk to anyone but people in their crowd. There might even be a woman at the bar or a couple of them sitting together, but they are unapproachable, because they are not seeing what they want to see. Unless, you look like Brad Pitt, you don’t bother chatting up the women.  Bars are lonely places for men.  They really are.  They can also be stressful places unless you are an aggressor, and then you probably fit right in. Jesus in a gay bar Thing is I don’t see Jesus hanging out at this type of bar.  The gay bar on the other hand?  He would fit right in and be welcome.  He could be his gentle, kind self there and not expect to have to get into a fight.  The folks there would actually get his message too. A message of love and forgiveness and acceptance would fit right in at 140 Alex I think.  Mainly because from the moment I walked in I felt all of those things.  So, I learned a lot there that night, and I am glad I went.