Democratic primary elections were held in seven states this week, however, presidential hopefuls disproportionately channeled a majority of their energies to one state in particular — South Carolina. In this key southern state they were afforded their first shot at gaining the support of black voters — seen as a crucial component in defeating George W. Bush. Polls show some 40 percent of that state’s Democratic voters consider themselves to be conservative to very conservative, more likely to attend church and more opposed to gay marriage.

Given this demographic, it’s safe to say that the leading Democratic contenders, who all support same-sex unions in some capacity (Rev. Al Sharpton, the only African-American currently in the race, supports same-sex marriage), probably downplayed gay support somewhat in the palmetto state.

It is just this lack of support for same-sex relationships among African-Americans in South Carolina and elsewhere that a growing number of black leaders across the country are organizing to change.

And they know just where to begin.

As with the populace in general, the fear, hatred and shame associated with homosexuality in the black community can be traced to a primary source — the church and its historical condemnation of GLBT people. However, where the black community is concerned, the church has perhaps played a more critical role in establishing social mores than among any other demographic in this country. Of course, the prevailing message African-Americans have received from spiritual leaders, taken out into the broader community, and, largely embraced, is not pretty. Though tolerance and acceptance of GLBT people is growing in segments of the black community, overall homosexuality continues to be treated in ways ranging from the elephant in the living room to an unpardonable sin.

“The black church is enormously influential in the black community,” 38-year-old Keith Boykin told the Gay and Lesbian Times. Having served two turbulent years in the Clinton White House that started with ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ and ended with the removal of Dr. Joycelyn Elders from her position as surgeon general, Boykin is the current president of the newly formed National Black Justice Coalition (NBJC). The group is working to galvanize black leaders to rally around the issue of marriage equality and help defeat the Bush administration’s so-called “Marriage Protection Act” (their list of supporters, gay and straight, thus far includes former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown, Whoopi Goldberg, Coretta Scott King, Al Sharpton and others).

“The church helps to dictate our social and moral values,” said Boykin. “So, to whatever extent we can help to reframe the conversation as a civil rights issue, instead of a religious issue, I think we win the debate.”

“The core of the black community is pretty much the black church,” echoed Tuan N’Gai, co-founder of Operation Rebirth, a newly formed organization targeting black churches throughout the country that promote discrimination against gays and lesbians. “If we’re going to affect change in the black community we need to start with the most powerful entity or organization, which, by and large, is the church. We want to effect change and let them know that this is not about bashing or attacking them…. We are their brothers and sisters and we have to work together if we’re going to change our community.”

Operation Rebirth is kick-starting its mission to reeducate the black community on homosexuality and religion through an online grassroots’ campaign targeting black gay men and women who financially support homophobic churches. Operation Rebirth’s website includes reviews of gay-bashing sermons given by pastors throughout the country in an effort to heighten public awareness.

“The church historically has demonized sex and sexuality,” N’Gai noted. “They feel that sex is only permitted between a man and a wife when they are trying to procreate — and any deviation from that is perverted, is not of god, and needs to be done away with…. We need to reeducate the church about sex — [that] it’s a part of who we are as human beings and it is something that god created that should be celebrated…. The church has a role in teaching people how to use sexuality responsibly.”

Pastor Brenda Evans of Christ Chapel of North Park grew up in the Missionary Baptist Church of Gary, Indiana. The openly lesbian faith leader, whose congregation is open to all, said she came out in her early twenties and experienced none of the discrimination many gay and bisexual African-American men face within the black community. Nevertheless, she recognizes the bashing that goes on in many black churches and the tremendous power faith leaders wield in shaping attitudes in the black community.

“We grew up in the church learning about god and having faith and standing firm,” said Evans. “Even though there’s no money, you just pray and you know that god is going to come through for you. We grew up with those values…. It’s sad to me that, as much faith as we have, that there are those who are being rejected by the church because of ignorance of the Bible from those who are teaching it. I hate to put it that way, but we believe what we hear literally without having a historical background or any fact to it.”

Rev. Charles Lanier of Unity Fellowship of Christ Church in San Diego will celebrate his all-embracing church’s second year in November. Lanier’s congregation currently has about 25 members, and is helping feed the homeless twice a month in downtown San Diego.

“As opposed to religion, Unity is a spirituality,” Lanier explained. “We each have a personal relationship with the creator. We say that god is alive in the Jewish synagogue, in the Muslim mosque … and in the scripture — god is everywhere present and available.”

Lanier said that if someone would have told him he’d be the leader of his own congregation 10 years ago when he was living on the streets of Los Angeles struggling with crack addiction, he’d never have believed it. Lanier cites spiritual abuse he grew up with in the church as a factor in his previous life of promiscuity and drug and alcohol abuse. Discovering the GLBT-affirming Unity Fellowship and its pastor, Archbishop Carl Bean, he said, was his ticket from ruin.

“I was a child that enjoyed church, so when I hit puberty and it started to occur to me that the way I’d always felt about other boys might be the way that I’d spend my life, I immediately became very depressed,” said Lanier. “I was smoking reefer and drinking at 13; doing angel dust and pills at 16…. I really started disliking and hating myself as a result of what I was taught in religion.”

Lanier recalled the early days of the AIDS epidemic, and the black church’s standard response. “We were all really very afraid; no one knew how it was transmitted…. I remember clearly the black church’s response. They were saying that it was god’s judgment against homosexuals. That was one of the prevailing messages being perpetuated in the black community … and I believed that myself then.”

Reggie Avant, a minister in residence at the Metropolitan Community Church of San Diego, grew up in Compton, California in a similarly intolerant environment. At 44, he has happily reconciled his faith with his sexual orientation, though his personal liberation came only after he came out of the closet at 36.

Avant grew up in the ultra-fundamentalist Pentecostal Church. “All my life I had heard that homosexuality was a sin…. I heard it preached consistently from the pulpit. If you’re gay, it’s an abomination before god and you’ll die and go to hell. My dad used to call [gays] ‘funny’ — he hated gay people with a passion.”

Despite the anti-gay messages Avant was bombarded with during his formative years, he remained undaunted in his faith, going on to attend Loyola University and pursue life as a religious leader.

“It was horrible,” said Avant of his time at Loyola. “In my second year there was a student that was kicked out [for being gay]. He was a friend of mine and it scared me to death….

“I had my real first sexual experience at seminary with another student there,” he added. “I had never kissed a man until then. It was a wonderful experience, but it scared me so much that I still could not come out.”