why some churches are choosing silence

Over the last decade, I’ve talked with thousands of Christians about LGBTQ issues and faith. I’ve listened to fear, confusion, heartbreak, and courage. I’ve shared my own journey — not as a man who has “arrived,” but as someone still walking by faith, trusting God one day at a time. And I’ve watched how the church has responded. Some moments have given me tremendous hope, others have raised deep concern. This reflection is born out of both.

A Decade of Questions and Conversations

Hundreds of churches and Christian schools — mostly across the United States — have invited me to speak and help them navigate this topic. Ministers would say, “Our people really need help. We have families who are struggling. We have members with honest questions. Please come and guide us.”

Every time, I felt both humbled and hopeful, trusting that God could use my story — battles included — to encourage and strengthen others.

A New Hesitation in the Church

But in recent years, I’ve noticed a shift. The welcome that once greeted these conversations is fading. Churches that were eager to engage now feel hesitant, cautious, or weary. That change made me stop and ask why.

In the West, our cultural landscape has changed dramatically. Secularism, individualism, and the influence of media and academia have reshaped how people think about identity, sexuality, and faith. Speaking clearly about biblical sexuality can feel like stepping on a cultural landmine. Many churches fear being labeled, misunderstood, or publicly criticized. And while conviction remains, silence feels safer.

For others, it isn’t fear — it’s fatigue. They feel like we’ve discussed this enough already. They wonder if bringing it up again might feel like beating a dead horse.

When Silence Becomes Harm

But silence, whether born from fear or exhaustion, comes at a cost.

Silence doesn’t protect people; it isolates them. It unintentionally communicates that Scripture has nothing meaningful to say, or that people should wrestle alone. When the church steps back, culture steps in — shaping beliefs and identities without the hope, truth, or compassion of Christ.

We forget that while some are tired of the conversation, others are only beginning theirs. A teenager discovering their attractions, a newly-confused parent, a believer suddenly wrestling with temptation — to them, this is not an old debate. It’s a present struggle. And they need a church that will walk with them, not disappear into silence.

A Different Picture Elsewhere

Interestingly, this hesitation is mostly Western. In Africa, Central and South America, and Southeast Asia, churches are leaning into the conversation with eagerness and clarity. Their worldview hasn’t been shaped as intensely by Western secular ideology, and they’re less driven by fear of cultural backlash. They ask questions not through the lens of politics but discipleship and spiritual formation. The result? A deeper confidence in Scripture and a greater willingness to shepherd those who struggle.

That contrast has been eye-opening for me.

Why I Keep Showing Up

I know the pressures leaders face. They care deeply and want to help, but the cultural risks feel overwhelming.

But I also know what it’s like to sit in a church pew as a young man, convinced that if anyone discovered my same-sex attraction, I would be rejected or whispered about. I know what it’s like to beg God to “fix” me and then feel alone when He didn’t remove my attractions overnight. Those experiences follow me into every church I visit.

That’s why I keep speaking. When invitations slow down, it doesn’t mean the questions are gone — it means they’ve gone underground. And as long as there is someone quietly whispering in a church, “Does anyone understand what I’m going through?” I want the body of Christ to be able to answer, “Yes. We understand. And we’re walking with you.”

Conclusion: Truth and Love, Not Silence

This isn’t about winning arguments or drawing battle lines. It’s about walking alongside real people with real faith and real pain. Silence may feel safe, but it leaves the most vulnerable without help. And if the church won’t walk with them, the world certainly will.

We are called to a better way — to speak the truth with compassion, to embody grace and conviction together, and to love without fear. Until God calls me home, that is the path I intend to walk. And I pray the church will walk it with me.

Guy Hammond

Guy Hammond started Strength in Weakness ministry which has helped thousands in 58 countries. He has taught over 100,000 people in churches, universities and faith based groups globally, has written 6 books and had a documentary movie made about his life and ministry called Finding Guy. Before becoming a Christian, Guy lived an active gay life until he was 24 years old. After becoming a Christian, he left that life behind forever. Guy is a news junkie, loves anything political, loves to read, and is an avid hockey and baseball fan.