(RNS and Uncloseted) — Jacob May remembers sitting across from his pastor at 22-years-old in 2014 at a Chipotle in rural Virginia defending his gay identity over a carnitas burrito.
They went over the usual talking points, with his pastor pointing to the clobber passages — the Bible verses used to condemn homosexuality — and May pointing out mistranslations and historical context in response.
“We should continue meeting weekly,” his pastor said. He wanted to continue teaching May the Southern Baptist way: that homosexuality is a sin that would be punished by eternity in hell.
After that day, May stopped replying to his texts.
As he continued to tell people he was gay, he wound up losing his childhood church community.
“I just felt really alone,” May, now 34, said. “I felt like I had to start over essentially in my life since so many of my connections and friends and just subculture essentially were in the church. … I remember times just sitting on my bed, sobbing.”
It wasn’t until three years later, when he walked into the LGBTQ-affirming St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Richmond, Virginia, that he began to open up his heart to faith again and his loneliness started to lift.
Carla, left, and Stuart Hays welcome congregants at Restore Austin in Austin, Texas, on Sunday, June 7, 2026. (Angela Wang)
A national study published in 2016 found that more than 80% of …