From ‘Celibate’ to Canceled: What Sam Allberry’s Fall Means For LGBTQ+ Christians

Celibacy isn’t any more effective a smokescreen than ‘conversion therapy’ was

Sam Allberry became one of the most prominent global voices advocating for the “celibate gay Christian” within conservative evangelicalism. Through books, conferences, podcasts, and ministries such as Living Out and The Gospel Coalition, his influence shaped how many churches in the U.K., the U.S. and Australia responded to LGBTQ+ issues over the past decade. But that has all come undone with the revelation of his “inappropriate relationship with another man.”

The celibacy message had been around for some time but came into prominence after the closure of the “change is possible” organisation, Exodus International, in 2013. Packaged as more realistic, gracious and psychologically aware than the black-and-white conversion “therapy” ministries of previous decades, Sam and others’ celibacy message became increasingly popular. For many churches struggling to respond to the growing acceptance of LGBTQ+ people, it became the perfect theological middle ground.

The fallout has been swift, with The Gospel Coalition removing his material from its platforms, and ministries suspending him from speaking roles.

From ‘pray the gay away’ to ‘gay without the lay’

For decades, “ex-gay” and conversion “therapy” ministries promised transformation.

If you prayed hard enough, surrendered deeply enough, received enough counseling, deliverance, accountability, or masculine affirmation, your “true” heterosexuality would emerge. I built my life around that promise.

Thousands tried and failed. Many were harmedAn incalculable number ended their lives.

In my article “How Celibacy Became the New Ex-Gay,” I wrote about this shift several years ago. What changed was not the underlying theology about homosexuality, but the strategy. The movement adapted because the old promises were no longer believable.

Allberry’s influence in Australia

Sam Allberry became one of the key global figures in that transition. Athough based in the U.K. and later the United States, Sam Allberry’s influence reached deeply into Australian evangelical culture. His books circulated widely through conservative churches, Bible colleges, Christian bookstores, men’s ministries and leadership networks. Australian pastors regularly recommended his books.

He spoke at Australian evangelical events and conferences, including ministry gatherings during and after the marriage equality debate, the most recent being in 2024. His message resonated particularly within conservative Anglican, Reformed and evangelical circles seeking a softer public posture while maintaining the traditional doctrine that homosexuality is a sin.

Allberry’s teaching fueled conservative Christians in Australia to oppose same-sex marriage and the legislation banning LGBTQ+ conversion practices.

Forced celibacy: A cruel lifelong sentence

For years I have worked with people navigating faith, sexuality, identity conflict, and the fallout of so-called conversion “therapy.” One recurring theme appears again and again: Suppression is not healing. You can rename it. Reframe it. Sanctify it. Spiritualise it. Yes, celibacy is suppression of their “unwanted same-sex attraction” — but it’s also so much more.

The message is clear: Something is wrong with you. You are not “normal.” You can never fall in love or have a lifelong relationship.

These messages can be as psychologically harmful as the “change is possible” message. That is why “suppression” was also included in conversion “therapy” bans in New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia.

The most profound experiences we can have as human beings, such as love, tenderness, affection, and intimacy, flow out of our sexual orientation, whether that be toward the same or opposite sex. As with being gay, love is something we should never be ashamed of. The celibacy message is a cruel lifelong sentence.

Imagine what so many young people absorb growing up under this message. Every time they begin to feel affection, attraction or love toward someone of the same sex, they are taught to shut it down and to see it as sinful, disordered, ungodly, even abhorrent. Over time, that doesn’t simply shape behaviour; it shapes identity, self-worth, intimacy, and the ability to trust their own hearts.

For so many people I’ve worked with over the years who are now out and proud, the turning point came when they fell in love. It was the same for me after 22 years of fighting, suppression and inner conflict. What I had once been taught to fear and reject suddenly revealed itself as beautiful, wholesome, life-giving, and deeply human — something to embrace, not deny.

When the public narrative cracks

The current discussion about Sam Allberry is not really about one man. It’s about what happens when a public theology collides with human reality.

Church pastor and writer Michael Clary said he hoped Allberry’s resignation would prompt discussion in the Church. He opposed Sam’s message and hopes it’s the end. He said

This was no random, moral failure, but the fruit of a system that refused to acknowledge “same-sex attraction” as a dangerous and sinful error, one that particularly aligns with the world’s agenda of normalizing every kind of sexual perversion. This is one of the most destructive forces in modern evangelicalism. And the whole godless enterprise needs to be dismantled, brick by brick, and burned to the ground.

Years ago, I predicted that just as the “change is possible” message eventually collapsed under the weight of reality after roughly 40 years, the “celibacy message” for LGBTQ+ Christians would also prove unsustainable for many. We saw countless “ex-gay” leaders eventually renounce their teachings when lived experience collided with ideology. I believe the same reckoning will continue within this newer hybrid model. Not because people are weak or failing, but because human beings long for love, intimacy, connection and authenticity. Perhaps what we are now seeing with Sam is not an isolated story, but the beginning of a much larger shift.

God, I hope we don’t have to wait another 40 years for that.

Note to Sam: Sam, if you do happen to read this, I know firsthand the devastation and emotional toll you’ll be experiencing right now as deeply personal struggles become painfully public. I’ve lived through my own very public journey involving faith and sexuality,  so I know the trauma these moments can bring. Putting our differences aside, I simply wanted to reach out with kindness and let you know I’m here if you ever need a non-judgmental, empathetic, confidential listening ear or support from someone who actually knows what you are going through. Or at least read A Life of Unlearning – a preacher’s struggle with his homosexuality, church, and faithto know there is light and hope at the end of the tunnel.