April 14th, 2012 was the day that separated the life I had, from the life that was about to be. It was the day that defined everything. The day that determined that everyday that followed would be different from every day that came before.

The fear of coming out to my family was a weight on my chest that wouldn’t leave me alone–it followed me every second of the day and haunted me every minute of the night. I lived constantly with the anxiety that coming out as gay to my family–the family that was the epitome of perfection to the conservative Christian world–could potentially cost me everything; but I was not prepared for the fact that it actually would. With a father who’s been employed as an executive at Focus on the Family for over 30 years and a mother who stayed home to school and raise us, I knew this news would not be easy for me to share, nor easy for them to hear. 

Gathering my family in my home that day, I held notes in my lap as points of reference for when my nerves got the best of me. Giving it my all, I took them on the journey I had been walking over the past several years, until the moment finally came when I told them I knew I was gay. My words hung in the air, forming what I now know to be an unbridgeable gap between us. I’d never felt more vulnerable in my life than I did in those moments awaiting their response. Then, with anger in my dad’s eyes, he simply said, “I have nothing to say to you right now,” and he walked out the door. 

That door closing behind my family as they left that day felt like they were simultaneously closing the door on me, not only as their only daughter, but also as part of the family. As soon as they were out of sight, I collapsed into a puddle of devastation and tears. 

THE FIRST YEAR…was the hardest. It was the year I didn’t know if I’d survive. The next conversation I had with my family was one where they looked me in the eye and told me they felt like I had died and that given the choice, they would choose God over me. They compared me being gay to murder, pedophilia, and bestiality. They called me selfish and said they no longer trusted me to have open access to their home. The unconditional love my parents professed growing up suddenly had very clear conditions attached, and as I walked out the door, they asked for the keys to their house back. That was the day I became an orphan.

Suicide was a very real threat to me in the months that followed as harsh words, passive aggressive behavior, and ghosting confronted me from all sides. I lost almost everyone and everything: my parents, my only sibling, my relatives, most of my friends, my home church of fourteen years, and the only hometown I’d ever known. 

One tragedy took place after another that year ranging from loss, to critical illness, to death; it put a strain on me that, looking back, I still don’t know how I survived. I truly believe to this day that the affirming community I found in Denver, and my service dog, Half Pint, are what saved my life that year. When everyone else walked out, they stayed. And because of them, I’m alive today. 

THE SECOND YEAR was the year that love entered my life. I held in tandem a dynamic of losing everyone I’d ever loved and simultaneously gaining the unconditional love of someone who, for the first time, saw the real me. I rode a rollercoaster as the connection with my family became ever more strained, and yet I discovered joy and peace in my own skin unlike any I’d ever known. I fell in love, but couldn’t share that love with my very own family. By the end of this second year, I was engaged, and ready to share what should be some of the most exciting news of my life with the world, but rather than sharing that news with my family first, they ended up being among the last to know. It broke my heart in a way that words can’t explain. Yet somehow, the freedom I was finding to be myself kept me moving forward, as I slowly let go of the the love and acceptance my heart craved from my family. 

THE THIRD YEAR was the year I got married. It was the day I’d always dreamed of: the white dress, the first look, the first dance. People from my affirming faith community stepped up and stood in where my family should have been, filling the gap and making the obvious emptiness bearable. It’s a day that was everything I’d always dreamed it to be…almost. And yet the ache of what my family missed that day still stays with me, knowing we can never go back. It’s too late. They missed one of the happiest days of my life. Just three months after my wedding, my family cut me off completely. Their hope for “change” had waned and they gave up on our relationship. We haven’t spoken since. 

THE FOURTH YEAR was the year that we bought our first home. With the help of friends, we moved into a house and made it our own. We struggled with emptiness that comes with not having family support, especially around the holidays, and fought to bring some of the traditions of our past into our present, and to let others go in place of creating our own. It was a year of shifting, of growth, and of beginning to establish our own family, even without the love of our biological families. Together, we held onto love and let that fill our life.

THE FIFTH YEAR was the year I wrote Refocusing My Family and began sharing my story with the world. Following what was clearly the voice of God through one of my friends, I was told that “Embedded in my identity, was a responsibility to be a voice for change.” I knew God was calling me. It was a hard and taxing book to write, but so rewarding. That year was the launch of what has now become my life’s work: writing, speaking, and using my story to help others with theirs. 

THE SIXTH YEAR was a year of continuing to grieve for the loss of what could or should have been with my family, while also finding strength and grounding in the family my wife and I were creating together. It was a year of letting go, a year of building up, and a year of finding strength in each other when things were tough. As I traveled and spoke across the country, I heard hundreds of stories that were far too similar to mine and because of it, soon published a second book (Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians) in order to provide the very first resource for LGBTQ people of faith to navigate the complications of internalized homophobia, coming out, setting healthy boundaries, grieving rejection and loss, and embracing who God created them to be to the fullest. 

THE SEVENTH YEAR…this year…is the year that I strive to embrace healing and wholeness to its full capacity. It’s the year that I seek to pour life into others, and be filled with life myself. Amidst all the pain and loss I’ve experience over the past seven years, I can honestly say I wouldn’t go back or trade what I have now for the world.

I came alive the day I came out, and my family has missed the happiest years of my life.

I now get the privilege of doing deeply meaningful work by helping other LGBTQ people of faith find their own purpose and self-acceptance. I get to live my life free of shame, guilt, and condemnation and instead know that there is a God bigger than my box that loves me completely and unconditionally. And I get to share a love with my wife which only continues to draw me closer to the divine Spirit of God.

If you are an LGBTQ person of faith struggling to come out, know that there is love, acceptance, and peace waiting for you on the other side. You can love God and a person of the same-sex without any conflict in between. You can be LGBTQ and be at peace with the fact that God loves you fully and completely exactly as you are. For more helpful information, check out my Resources page. 

If you are a parent, pastor, or ally of an LGBTQ person, I urge you to see the damage that faulty religion has done to my family and make a different choice for yours. You don’t have to understand completely to love unconditionally. Be willing to learn, to grow, and to expand your understanding of God. You willingness to be stretched could save the life of the ones you love.

I came out seven years ago today. I love my life and I’m not looking back. 

Amber Cantorna is a national speaker and the author of Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians and Refocusing My Family. You can learn more about her work and view her speaking schedule at AmberCantorna.com or follow her on social media @AmberNCantorna. To support the continuation of Amber’s work, visit: Amber’s Patreon Page.

Hello Friends,

I am so excited to write today and let you know that my newest book, Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians is out of the closet and now on the shelves of your nearby bookstores…or your next Amazon order. 

I know that my blogging and updates have been sporadic and that is primarily because A) I’m only one person doing the job of many people, and B) I’m realizing (and learning to accept) that weekly blogging just isn’t my thing, and that’s okay. Plus, I’m also trying to get to the bottom of some additional health challenges that I’ve been facing,  but that’s another story for another time. 

For today, with the release of this new book, there are THREE important things I want you to know…

1. Unashamed is now available on Amazon. Pick up a copy for yourself, or a loved one. The great thing about it is that this resource is super helpful for LGBTQ people and allies alike! So whether you’re a loved one, a parent, a pastor, a therapist, or just someone wanting to know what it is like to walk in the shoes of an LGBTQ person of faith, this book is for you!

This is one of the first 10 reviews that came through on Amazon this morning.

You can order your copy HERE.

2. With the book launch we’ve also announced The Unashamed Tour dates today! Tickets are now live and can be purchased via Eventbrite. To view a full list, visit: AmberCantorna.com/events. More cities and dates are coming soon!

3. I had the opportunity to interview with about a dozen podcasts over the last two weeks. Queerology is one that is near and dear to my heart and just released today. You can listen to my conversation with Matthias Roberts HERE. 

Thank you for all you’ve done to support me and this project. Anything you can do to help spread the word about this book, the tour events, and my work is SO appreciated. 

Remember…you are loved, so live unashamed.

Amber Cantorna

It was a snowy Saturday afternoon in Denver, Colorado, when I showed up to lead a workshop at the 2018 Q Christian Fellowship conference. Together with Susan Cottrell of FreedHearts, we led a sixty-minute session on “Navigating Life and Relationships with Non-Affirming Families.” Anticipating the need for a presentation on this topic, the conference team arranged for us to have the largest workshop room available. Just as they expected, when the doors opened, hundreds of people (in fact, one-third of the conference attendees) made their way in and packed out the room. This was my first indication that the topic of coming out to conservative families was tremendously underrepresented in the LGBTQ Christian community.

Susan and I planned to divide our hour of time into two parts. The first half hour would be spent discussing tools and tips for coming out, and the second half hour we would open it up for Q&A. We wanted to allow plenty of time to engage with the audience and address their concerns. But we were not prepared for the overwhelming need we were about to confront. As soon as we opened the floor for questions, a sea of hands immediately shot into the air. There was an audible gasp of shock and surprise that suctioned the oxygen from the room. I was stunned and a bit alarmed that the petition for questions was so vast. There was an obvious desire and need for these people to be heard.

For months, I’d received a steady stream of emails and Facebook messages from people seeking advice or wanting to share their story with me. It numbered in the hundreds. So yes, I knew there was a need to address this topic. But to witness it in such a tangible way and visibly see the lives that are being affected by rejection and pain in such startling numbers made one thing very apparent: LGBTQ Christians are desperate for guidance on how to navigate the unexpected journey of coming out. They’ve been backed into a corner by religion, taught to be ashamed of who they are, and lived in fear of being abandoned by both God and those they love if the truth about their identity leaks out. They want to live authentically, but they lack the needed resources to guide them. The books available to us thus far are limited to theological reconciliation. But the questions that arise about how to practically live out abound.

There was no way that Susan and I could begin to address all the questions people had in the room of our workshop that day. We picked a random hand out of the myriad of those raised and answered as many questions as we possibly could in that thirty-minute time frame. But we barely scratched the surface of the stories and questions represented. Following the session, we both stayed, offering to talk with anyone who still had a burning question they wanted to ask. Each person carried a story, a struggle they were up against in the face of coming out, and a desire to be seen. I wanted to stay all night and talk to each of them; I wanted to validate their journeys, stories, and struggles; I wanted them to know they weren’t alone; and more than anything, I wanted them to know that they had nothing to be ashamed of—that they could embrace and love the person that they are, because who they are is beautiful and reflects the very image of God. As the line wound down and the last person left for the night, I couldn’t help but think about how many people didn’t stay but still had unanswered questions lingering in their heart. Recognizing the magnitude of the need that day was what birthed [my upcoming book, Unashamed].

At first, I didn’t know if I was ready to write another book. Writing my first book (a memoir of my own coming-out journey) had taken an emotional toll on me, I was just winding down from a national book tour, and I had a few other projects I was hoping to accomplish before returning to writing. But I couldn’t ignore the request from so many people seeking guidance, nor the wind of God’s spirit speaking to my soul that this book needed to be written—now.

So this book (Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians) is my labor of love to each of you who identify as an LGBTQ person of faith. It is written to those of you who have lost your faith, to those of you who are desperately trying to hold onto your faith, and to those who of you who want to reclaim your faith.

It is written for each of you who have emailed or messaged me on social media and shared your coming-out story and the pain you have faced as a result. It is written for the preacher’s kid, the missionary kid, the church kid, the home-schooled kid, the “Adventures in Odyssey” kid, the bullied kid, and the kid who never quite knew how to fit in.

It is written for the outcast, the leper, the black sheep, and those of you who feel like you are somehow never quite enough.

It is written for the LGBTQ person who did everything you could to be the “perfect Christian,” who tried to pattern your life after the Focus on the Family model, who went through ex-gay therapy, conversion therapy, and psychological abuse, suppressing your sexual feelings and desires because you were told you had to conform to the literal interpretation of Scripture in order to be acceptable to God. It is written for those of you who were forced into celibacy or a marriage to a person of the opposite sex because someone convinced you that God required it of you.

It is written for those of you who are thinking about coming out, for those who are in the process of coming out, for those who have already come out, and for those who have previously come out but who ended up back in the closet again due to fear.

This book is for those of you who struggle with worthiness, who were told that setting boundaries was disrespectful, who believed the lie that God despises who you are, who carry suffocating shame about your identity, who feel terrified to be seen, and who feel so isolated in your struggle that you don’t know if you can live another day. This book is for you.

I want you to know that I see you. I see who you are. I see the struggles you face every day, the fear that overwhelms you, the pain that is so heavy it takes effort just to keep breathing. I see you.

Know that you do not walk alone, though at times it may feel lonely. Countless others out there are also trying to navigate this same path. Writing this book is also my way of journeying with each of you and doing what I can to give you a compass for your trail. My hope is that as you go through this book, you will discover another set of footprints as well and realize that God is also walking alongside you, and always has been. Have courage, my friend. Don’t let fear win. Come, let’s journey together and learn what it means to live unashamed.

(***Excerpted from Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Chrisitans, © Amber Cantorna. Used by permission of Westminster John Knox Press.)

Enter our GoodReads Book Giveaway! 
Or Pre-Order your copy on Amazon today!

As you know, know one can do life alone. And in our current time and culture, it is getting harder and harder to create alone as well. For the last three years, I have been working endlessly to write hopeful books, create meaningful blogs, mentor and coach LGBTQ people, and create inspiring events that encourage people in their coming out and/or faith journey.

It’s been an amazing three years, but most people don’t know that for these past three years, I’ve been doing most of my work for free. My wife has been incredibly supportive through all this and has graciously been the primary breadwinner so that I could pursue my passion. But with changes now happening in our income this fall, I’ve reached a point where in order to continue to do this work, I need the support of those of you around me who enjoy, benefit from, and appreciate what I do.

So I’ve joined Patreon! And I’m asking YOU to join it with me!

For the month of September, I am running a campaign and asking each one of you to consider partnering with me for just $1, $5, or $10 a month. 

First, none of us are going to miss $1 a month, and most of us drop $5-$10 on one cup of coffee or lunch at Chipotle on any given day or week. You may not think your $1/month makes any difference. But it does. Because your dollar combined with the dollar of each of the hundreds of other people reading this blog can instantly create a massive difference in helping me move forward and continue in ministry.

And there’s an added incentive!

For each of you who join the campaign and pledge at least $1/month during the month of September, I will give you the added bonus of behind the scenes access to my very personal return back to music after a decade sabbatical. You’ll get the chance to follow along on a private page and hear from me about the internal workings of my heart as I process what it means to reclaim music in my life after feeling like it was stolen from me when I discovered my sexual orientation. You’ll get to see the process unfold via posts and videos as I begin to play, sing, and write music again. PLUS, you’ll get your name listed on my website as one of the ORIGINAL Difference Makers who believed in this work from the very beginning. Only those who partner with me before October 1st will get these added benefits and behind the scenes access!

We all need a way to keep our lights on and our heat running. Your partnership with me will help do that while allowing me to continue creating encouraging content for LGBTQ people of faith. In reality, your support can help save the lives of LGBTQ people of faith right alongside me–people who are looking for hope and a way out of their isolation. Will you join me? I’d be so honored!

So head on over to Patreon to pledge your $1 now!

Then, if you have a double dose of love, SHARE the link with your friends and give me a shout out on social media. You can tag me @AmberNCantorna across all platforms. Seriously, I’d be SO thankful!

Because Love Makes All the Difference,

Amber Cantorna

This week I have the exciting privilege of featuring another guest blog by my friend, Alicia Johnston. Alicia was a pastor in the Seventh-Day Adventist Church before coming out as bisexual in 2017. Here are some tips from her about how to engage in the important dialogue of LGBT+ inclusion.

Enjoy and share around!

Because Love Makes All the Difference,

Amber Cantorna

When I came out about a year ago, I did it in the most explosive way possible, with a video I shared on social media. I followed that up with my website, blogging about LGBT+ affirmation in Christian spaces. Before coming out, I was a pastor in a conservative denomination, the Seventh-day Adventist Church.

Losing that career and becoming an advocate for change has meant a lot of conversations with people who do not affirm any but heterosexual relationships. I have made so many mistakes. If you’ve been following me, you will probably have seen some of them. And I have learned so much. I would like to share some of those things with you today.

In sharing these lessons learned, I make no apologies about one thing: I am trying to be persuasive. I want people to change their minds and be affirming. I think this is a holy pursuit.

1. Are You Okay to Have This Conversation?

This will always be the first step. You are under no obligation to engage in any conversation no matter what the circumstances. This is even more true is someone is pressuring you. Hold your ground.

It is very difficult for those of us who are LGBT+ to have conversations with people about the legitimacy of our lives. It’s emotionally taxing, and for many of us it brings up past wounds. How healed are you from those wounds? How are you feeling today? How do you feel about this person? Is this the right conversation for you?

You cannot count on your conversation partner to understand what it’s like for you, especially online. In my experience, most of the straight/cis people who understand are already allies.

Christians are told repeatedly that they can love people even if their theology is different on this matter. In real life, that translate into a sense that they can say what they believe without expecting it to hurt you, as long as they aren’t too harsh. Sometimes even if they are harsh. I’ve seen it again and again. In most cases, I really do think they don’t know what they are doing.

So you can’t rely on them to protect your feelings. You have to know if you’re ready. Keep in mind, if you are LGBT+, the best thing you can do to change the world is be a healthy, happy, and unashamed person. Live well. Live out. Be open about your faith. Guard your own health and happiness.

2. Is This Person Already Convinced?

You must know who you are talking to and why. Most people can are in one of three camps. They are either totally on board with LGBT+ inclusion, totally against it, or in the moveable middle.

Those who are totally certain will not change their viewpoint.

You can kill yourself trying to explain the same thing for the hundredth time and they will still somehow not understand it. They will say things that are stigmatizing or pejorative, and they will never come to acknowledge or change this. You could pour out a heartbreaking story and they would just say feelings don’t matter and we have to do what’s right. You could talk about suicide statistics and mental health and they would feel like you’re manipulating them. They compare your love to pornography and adultery and think it’s compassionate. They won’t read any books. They won’t question what they believe.

You will not convince these people. They will be convinced only when their friends who are in the moveable middle change their opinions, or if someone they love and respect comes out. Even then they often stick to their guns. You can’t do it, especially if you’re LGBT+. Just accept that and be okay with it.

Unfortunately, these people are most vocal online. The people who are open to change usually don’t comment much.

I propose two different strategies for the people who are totally against LGBT+ affirmation:

In person: Don’t give them your time and energy. Suggest they read an LGBT+ affirming book or two, but don’t let them suck you in unless for some reason you’re feeling like a vigorous and unproductive debate about your legitimacy as a person. They won’t read the book unless its to get you to read one of their books. If they were open to change, they would read the book.

Online: Don’t try to convince them of anything. You might want to engage, but only for the sake of those who are reading. Be reasonable. Be kind. Make good points in a way that is brief. Be confident about both your faith and sexuality or gender identity. Remind them of the existence of LGBT+ Christians.

3. Is This Person Open to Learning and Growth?

Thank God, there are people who are open to change. These people are worth talking to.

Most of the people in the moveable middle are kind of like undecided voters. They usually haven’t thought about it enough to form a strong opinion. Though some have thought about it and are conflicted. They will probably not be well informed, but they won’t be purposefully dismissive or pejorative like the other group, at least not on purpose. They will be more responsive to a well-spoken correction if they say something disrespectful.

What works really well for these people is talking about your similarities. LGBT+ people have families, work hard, have children, go to church, etc. I’m going to level with you and tell you that it really bothers me that this is true. We should be respected and cared for whether we are similar to someone else or not. Yet it’s undeniable that the best way to remind people about the humanity of queer people is to show them that we are similar to them. It works very well.

These are people who will care about your story, and you should tell it to them. Much like the undecided voter, what some of them need most is a reason to care. If they have questions about theology, answer them if you can, or give them a source to turn to such as a book, website, or organization.

Sometimes all these people need is to get a few questions answered and they are onboard. If that’s the case, say hallelujah! Many have put in work before you and you got to see the transformation.

4. Show Respect, Expect Respect

The first person to say “you obviously” loses. Seriously. When someone feels attacked they will get defensive. If you’re at the place where someone is attacking you and you feel yourself getting defensive, you probably want to extract yourself from that conversation.

When I first came out, which I did so publicly and jumped right into online advocacy for LGBT+ people, there were a lot of people who were deeply disrespectful. As time went on I got more and more comfortable with the reality that the block button was my friend.

My list of blocked people is probably a lot longer than a lot of people’s friend list.

I’m not exaggerating. My coming out video was spun into a crazy conspiracy theory by a fringe religious extremist group. Their video about me was seen tens of thousands of times. As a result, I had a lot of people looking me up to tell me I was leading people to hell. Some of them come right out and say it. Some of them try really hard to act reasonable to make me feel like I couldn’t block them.

They would say things like, “you don’t want discussion on this group or you wouldn’t delete comments.” Or “I bet you’ll just block me.” At first I let this manipulate me, not wanting to prove them right. Now I just block them.

People will also say things like, “you shouldn’t post things on facebook if you aren’t willing to have a conversation about it.” So I just kindly but firmly tell them that I don’t share things on facebook for debate; I share them to share them. I don’t believe that facebook is a good forum for genuine conversation, so that’s not how I run my page.

It’s totally okay to do this. Those people are trying to hijack your platform to say something to your friends and followers. At the risk of sounding disillusioned, I can tell you that case after case after case has taught me that they are not being genuine. So don’t hesitate to push block.

That’s level one respect, but to be truly impactful in a conversation you need a whole new level. You need to understand them. If you have found someone interested in real dialogue, do spend time trying to understand them. If you are writing persuasively, don’t use straw man arguments and don’t assume people have bad motives.

Most people are doing the best they can. Foster compassion in yourself. If you’re like me, you’ve been on the wrong side of this in the past. Try to be patient, especially with those who genuinely do love you, like family and close friends, while always balancing that patience with caring for yourself. Sometimes you will need more distance from people.

Remember, people are not an obstacle to over come, they have lives, feelings, fears, and hopes. They bring all those things to each conversation. You can’t persuade someone against their will. You can’t force anyone to see things differently. Sometimes being too strong will only cause them to fight back harder.

The hardest thing Jesus commanded was that we love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. This doesn’t mean we can’t step away if we aren’t receiving respect, but it does mean we should foster a heart of grace and understanding.

5. Give Hope and Security

With the incredible efforts of LGBT+ people and allies, the lives of queer people have improved exponentially over the last several decades. Many churches have even gotten much, much better. There are many reasons for hope. So embrace hope.

When you’re talking to others, realize that if they were raised to fear what churches refer to as homosexuality, they are probably afraid for you, afraid for society, and afraid to affirm LGBT+ people for fear of cooperating with the forces of evil. That’s a lot to be afraid about. You can give hope.

Tell them about the great things queer people are doing and how they have wonderful lives, families, and faith communities. Cast a different vision than the vision of fear they have been given. And reassure them that God’s ability to save is not dependent on our ability to be right.

Perfect love casts out all fear, and fear has always been the greatest tool of those who are anti-LGBT+. That’s why it’s called homophobia. So remind them of God’s love for everyone. Remind them that God is not looking for us to mess up, but is leading us patiently and gracefully to greater love.

Alicia Johnston was a pastor in the Seventh-Day Adventist Church before coming out as bisexual in 2017. She is now an advocate for LGBT+ inclusion in the church. You can visit her website at aliciajohnston.com

My wife and I sat listening carefully to that list, but (not to our surprise) heard no mention of the LGBT community among the people listed. I knew this pastor and his wife from the parent church we had all previously been a part of. So following the service, I decided to challenge him on it.

I wrote him a letter, mentioning my background, my long involvement at our parent church, and my recent marriage to my wife.

I asked him if he truly meant all were welcome, or if his statement meant everyone…except me.

He didn’t remember me at first. But upon agreeing to meet us both for coffee to discuss the matter, he remembered both me and my family very well. Our mutual connection to a former church world and memories we both shared softened his heart toward us a bit, and the door seemed to open a little as we sat and dialogued about the journey my wife and I had been on. He asked questions with a fairly open mind. He seemed open to learning. He admitted that he didn’t necessarily feel “called” to minister to the LGBT community (whatever that meant), but that his church was rather neutral on the subject and that we would never hear him preach about it from the pulpit one way or the other. He wanted us to feel welcome in his church.

So then the real question came.

“So if I wanted to join the worship team, or lead a small group, would I be allowed to do that?” I asked. He paused, and admitted he wasn’t sure. No one had been gutsy enough to ask him that point blank before. He said he would pray about it, talk to the church leadership, and let us know.

Any of you who have been through a similar process know what the answer was. Like many other churches, we were “welcome” to attend, to give our money, to volunteer our time, but not to lead. Leading as a gay Christian woman wasn’t a risk they were willing to take or theologically support.

For some reason (perhaps longing, perhaps nostalgia…perhaps stupidity) my wife and I decided to visit just one more time. The day we decided to go, we ironically ended up in the middle of a two weeks sermon series on sex. The first sermon (which we had missed the previous week) had been on “Good Sex” and the week we showed up, was the discussion of “Bad Sex.”

A knot began forming in my stomach from the moment I heard the title and continued to church with every passing minute. I waited, in fear and anticipation of what may come.

To my shock (but sadly, not my surprise), when listing out the examples of bad sex (among which were pedophilia, pornography, and incest), this pastor – the same pastor we’d just had coffee with only weeks prior – also listed homosexuality.

I wanted to stand up and walk out right then and there.

But, attempting to give him the benefit of the doubt and the chance for some caveat that would redeem his statement, I stayed glued to my seat. But that statement never came.

I left feeling so deeply hurt that day.

I was hurt because he told me to my face that we’d never hear him talk about this from the pulpit. I was hurt because I felt like we had established some kind of rapport and respect for one another, yet he still listed my beautiful and pure marriage to my wife as defiled. I was hurt because I felt betrayed yet again by someone that knew my history, my family, and with whom I shared years of mutual memories.

We never again went back to that church again.

I marinated on that service for weeks. Finally, I felt like I needed to tell this pastor how his words affected me. After pouring our my pain and heartache, his response was short and simple: he wasn’t going to apologize or alter what the Bible clearly stated as truth. We never spoke again.

For this reason, and many others, I am excited about the launch of this new project of Church Clarity that is advocating for transparency regarding church policies of LGBTQ inclusion in the church. It is so very needed.

It’s needed because the difference between “welcoming” and “affirming” matters. I matters a lot.

It marks the difference between “you are equal here” and “you are welcome despite the fact that you’re flawed.” It marks the difference between “we celebrate who you are” and “we want to fix who you are.” And it marks the different between “we embrace you” and “we love the sinner, but hate the sin.”

Church Clarity is needed for so many reasons:

It’s needed so the LGBT person knows what to expect before they walk through the door.

It’s needed so that we feel safe.

It’s needed so that we know where we belong and where we will feel sub-human.

It’s needed because we don’t need any more spiritual trauma than we’ve already experienced.

It’s needed because we need to feel equal, and included.

For these reasons, I stand with Church Clarity. And I encourage you to do the same.

Because Love Makes All the Difference,

Amber Cantorna

On Wednesday morning, the LGBT Christian community experienced a wave of excitement and encouragement as Eugene Peterson was quoted in a Religion News Service article by Jonathan Merritt as being supportive of same-sex marriage.

Whenever an influential Christian leader comes out as affirming, it feels like we’ve inched one step closer to having a more loving, more equal, more inclusive place to belong. But with a name as big as Eugene Peterson, who has written over 30 books and has also penned “The Message” translation of the Bible, we knew instantly, that this had the capability of creating a large shift for inclusion in our Christian communities. Perhaps, Eugene’s affirmation would lend courage and strength to others who, up to this point, have held back due to fear of backlash? Or perhaps this would challenge the minds of unaffirming believers to look at the issue more deeply?

We had hope. We felt encouraged. We thought we were one step closer to a fully inclusive church.

But all that came crashing down only 24 hours later when Eugene Peterson “after reflection and prayer” changed his mind and retracted his statements saying he would not perform a same-sex wedding. Adding further salt to the wound, he said that he’d never been asked to do so and “frankly, I hope I never am asked.” This sent a shock through us all that resonated in the pit of our already aching souls. The wounds that we as the LGBT Christian community have faced have already left us bloody and bruised. Therefore, when a leader with such influence and ability to change our culture speaks up, only to then crumble under the weight of the cost that comes with those words, is not only disheartening for us, but is also deeply painful. In turn, it causes many to become more angry, more cynical, and more distanced from the very thing we are trying to reconcile with: the church.

The greatest tragedy of it all is that in so doing, it not only distances many LGBT people from the church, but it also causes many to distance from God as the church and God become blended as one in their experience of pain and disapproval.

It would have been better for Eugene Peterson to say he was not affirming of same sex marriage from the beginning than for him to say that he was affirming and then retract his statements. While his words can be rescinded, the damage that has now been done in the hearts of thousands of LGBT people cannot.

For me, I received a double dose of pain on Thursday when, after already hearing of Eugene Peterson’s retraction, I later received a group Facebook message from my grandmother.

My grandmother and I haven’t spoken in several years, but Thursday, she took it upon herself to include me in a group Facebook message that she sent out to the family:

The movie “Corpus Christi” is due to be released this August. It is a disgusting film which depicts Jesus and his disciples as homosexuals! It’s a revolting mockery of our Lord. But we Christians can make a difference.  Let’s stand for what we believe and stop the mockery of Jesus Christ our Savior. I am forwarding this to all I think will respect and appreciate being informed. Please help us prevent such offenses against our Lord. If you are not interested and do not have the 2 minutes it will take to do this, please don’t complain if God does not seem to have time for you. GET THE WORD OUT! Will God be able to find at least 50 righteous people who are willing to express their concern and voice their opinion against this act of blasphemy?

There was more, but…you get the point. I don’t know where to begin to tell you how aghast I was to read this. First, I was appalled that my grandmother would send something so strongly worded and full of hate. It was proof to me of how easy it is to bully from behind a computer screen as opposed to a person’s face.

Second, I was deeply disturbed that my 80-year-old grandmother would believe something like this at face value without researching to see if it is even true (which, by the way, it is not. Snopes says that ongoing claims to this movie are false and that letters and emails like this one have been circulating for over 32 years). While it doesn’t surprise me, it does disturb me. This is exactly how rumors and fall information are spread.

The clincher in all this for me though was the fact that, even though my grandmother hasn’t spoken to me in years, she went out of her way to make sure I was included in this family message. It was deeply painful on so many levels. But in the midst of that, I found myself longing for someone else within the family to speak up and say something.

If they don’t stand up to her false accusations, surely someone will at least defend me and call her out on her insensitivity, I thought. Yet sadly, there’s been nothing but silence. Not a word has been said by anyone in reference to her false claims or her cold-hearted gesture. Both my grandmother’s words and the rest of my family’s silence hurt in equal degrees.

It’s made me painfully aware of just how far I’ve come. As much as it hurts to be shunned from the family I once loved and held so dear, I’m so grateful that I am no longer part of a tribe that spews hate and tries to disguise it as love. I’m ashamed that I ever was. Dear God, forgive me.

So this weekend, my view of the world is a little more jaded, and a little less hopeful. My heart has been wounded again by both the family of God and the family I’m related to by blood.

But come Monday morning, I will once again get out of bed and work for equality just as hard if not more than I did before. Stories and experiences like this are why I do what I do. We need to press on. We need to hold tight to each other. And we need to keep sharing our stories…there is still so much work to be done.

If you’re feeling downtrodden, anger, or cynical this week because of this discouraging news, know that your feelings are valid and that you are deeply and fully loved. We will get there, one person, one story, one life at a time.

Because Love Makes All the Difference,

Amber Cantorna

*For a thorough summary of the events regarding Eugene Peterson this week, read this very poignant TIME article by Matthew Vines.