Pulse shooting spurs effort to understand LGBTQ struggles

Five years ago, a mass shooting at Orlando’s Pulse nightclub claimed the lives of 49 people and injured 53 more. This was one of the worst acts of domestic terrorism in U.S. history targeting the LGBTQ community, particularly LGBTQ people of color.

At the time, I was the senior pastor at Northland Church, a conservative evangelical congregation in Orlando. That Sunday morning as news spread, the terror at Pulse shook me to the core. Each one of those murdered was a child of God — a sibling, a parent, a spouse or a partner — taken too soon from their families and communities. As I prayed for the victims and their families, I had to examine my own heart and ask: Why do I have so few relationships within the LGBTQ community?

I searched for answers and was reminded of the gospels teaching us how Jesus had a heart for the vulnerable, and an eye to those pushed to the margins. I felt compelled to follow in his footsteps and build relationships with LGBTQ people.

I asked one of the leading LGBTQ pastors in town if I could come and talk with her. During that conversation, my heart was knit to hers. We are steadfast friends now. I also met with a young woman who was raised Baptist. After coming out, she left the church but maintained a strong heart for worship. She helped me open my heart and mind on how rejection impacts the LGBTQ community.

As I continued listening to others, to say that their stories were heart-wrenching and eye-opening is an understatement. I was not aware of the vulnerabilities that LGBTQ people experienced in their daily lives. As I became more involved, over the last few years in combating homelessness in Central Florida. I saw firsthand how LGBTQ people were hurt by family rejection. As it stands, 40 percent of homeless youth identify as LGBTQ.

After serving 32 years as senior pastor of Northland, I focused my life on a new season of ministry outside the four walls of the church.

I helped found the Community Resource Network, a nonprofit that focuses on helping the marginalized — specifically homeless families.

While we help homeless people transition out of poverty to living and thriving independently, for LGBTQ people, stigma, discrimination, and lack of federal protections have serious implications. According to a recent study, more than one-third of all LGBTQ Americans faced discrimination of some kind in the past year, and more than 60 percent of transgender Americans. And they are not protected by federal or state laws from this discrimination.

Americans should be able to participate in all aspects of daily life with dignity and respect, without fear of discrimination. No one should be at risk of being denied housing or refused service simply because of who they are or who they love.

In this polarized political climate, engaging with people who don’t agree with you can be difficult. I’ve learned that having honest conversations with LGBTQ people can mark the first steps toward making progress. But conversations alone are not enough.

The country needs bipartisan cooperation and solutions to the ongoing discrimination of LGBTQ people.

I’m praying that Sens. Marco Rubio and Rick Scott will help lead the way by supporting federal legislation that provides equal protection from discrimination to all.

Every one of us has a responsibility to seek out and care for those on the margins; it’s fundamental to our values as Americans and as people of faith.

Following the tragedy at Pulse, I remember how we came together to overcome hate to move forward with love. That spirit is part of what makes Orlando strong and resilient. And that’s the spirit all of us can draw upon, as Americans, to address the real issues of homelessness, equality and LGBTQ discrimination in the United States.