Going on a year-and-a-half, perhaps 2 years now, I’ve had an on-going dialogue with a conservative Christian leader based in the Charlotte, N.C. area. Sometimes heated but always thick with very complex theological issues, our conversations — either in person or via the internet — consistently revolve around sexual orientation, faith and Scripture.

My lengthy response from our latest exchange below.

But that doesn’t diminish the strong feelings I have about this subject. What bothers me about your ministry is the way in which you go about doing it. For me, your words bring up very harmful and painful memories of my childhood. I’m sure it is the same with many other LGBT people. What I’ve yet to sense you understand is my concern over what I see as your militant-like rhetoric. The gut-wrenching reaction I feel when I read some of your work is very similar to the same type of reaction I have every time I hear little children sing “I’m in the Lord’s Army,” or a congregation join in “Onward Christian soldier.” (And, yes, I know these songs — to this day. I sang them when I was a child.)

And, I’ve yet to see any clear evidence that you aren’t connected with Flip Benham and Operation Save America. Their style of “preaching” is more reprehensible to me than almost anything you could do. They certainly drive more souls away from Christ than they bring into the fold, for sure.

Perhaps you and I differ on what kind of movement Christ’s church should take. If so, I’m more than sure we both have our theological reasons as to why. (Although I will be completely upfront and acknowledge I’d never win a theological debate with you, as I haven’t the training or knowledge.)

Let me tell you a story:
When I was on the Equality Ride in Spring 2007, we made a stop at Oklahoma Baptist University. The one thing I thought I’d never see in my lifetime were church leaders actively stopping anyone from attending a church service. We were told the night before that Oklahoma Baptist would not let us attend their weekday chapel service, held in their campus church (I say “church,” even though they say “campus chapel,” because it serves the exact same function, whichever words you use).

I told the group of my peers that night, “Oh, there’s no way they won’t let us participate in the worship service. I’m Baptist, they’re Baptist. I know Baptists — we don’t keep people out of church.”

The next morning it was repeated again on the bus as we headed to the campus. I turned to a friend and again said, “If I know my Baptists, they’ll let us at least participate in the service.”

We got off the bus and a school official was waiting for us. He told us that we would not be allowed to enter the chapel. Again, I turned to a friend, “Once we are standing in front of that church, there’s no way they could stand to keep us away from the presence of God.”

Sure enough, as we headed toward the chapel, a school official and police officer kept us from approaching. As I slowly made my way from the imposing building, I began to cry — uncontrollably. Not a slight sobbing, but an uncontrollable wailing.

This is just one of the majority of times in my life where I have been cast aside by my fellow Christian brothers and sisters. Did they pray about this decision? Were their hearts that cold? How they could stand before God and explain their rejection of a group of people wanting to have a genuine participation in a worship service instituted in His name is beyond me.

When will conservative Christian leaders understand that there are real men and women who, like me, believe whole-heartedly and to the deepest parts of our soul that there is a God and that His Christ is our savior? This rejection of our lives belittles our very real, many times very difficult and life-altering experiences with our Father.

The complete and utter rejection of gay and lesbian people by the people of God is a problem. A major problem. Whatever a person’s beliefs, I wish I saw more Christian men and women of God taking a stand against this outright rejection. Undoubtedly, there is a part of me that has immense respect for you, Dr. Brown. Perhaps that is the reason why I hound you so much. Perhaps you are the person who could do more to put a salve over the huge, gaping wound that exists among Christ’s followers.