Bussee points out that the history of Exodus and the entire ex-gay movement is riddled with leaders who have undergone this same transformation. In 2011, John Smid, former director of the Memphis-based ex-gay ministry Love in Action, came out as gay and said he had "never met a man who experienced a change from homosexual to heterosexual." John Paulk, a former chairman of Exodus' board of directors and founder of Love Won Out, an ex-gay conference affiliated with James Dobson's Focus on the Family, has come out of the closet, left his wife, and just this year denounced reparative therapy and issued an apology. (He now owns a catering company in Portland, Oregon.)

Bussee thinks Chambers is likely on a similar trajectory. "He may be going through the same thing that a lot of former leaders go through just before they abandon the whole thing, and [decide] maybe it's OK to be gay and maybe gay relationships can be blessed by God," he says. "He's in the middle somewhere, still trying to figure out where to land. He's not quite there yet."

Wayne Besen, a former staffer at the Human Rights Campaign whose current organization, Truth Wins Out, has long been a chronicler and harsh critic of the ex-gay movement, calls Chambers' recent moves bold, if incomplete, but essentially agrees with Bussee that it's just a matter of time before the other shoe drops in Chambers' personal life.

"People have a strong motivation and desire to be their real selves," he says. "Alan is no exception. He's on a journey. Maybe he never gets there, but very rarely do people go their entire life without experiencing intimacy and love at their very core."



Alan and Leslie Chambers have gotten used to living under a microscope and having their marriage dissected by countless prying amateur (and occasionally professional) psychologists. Leslie is completely aware that many bystanders are just waiting expectantly for the day that her husband runs off with another man. But she isn't.

"Those people don't understand that our marriage is real, our commitment is real, our attractions for each other are real," she says. "There's a difference between an attraction and a temptation, and an attraction and an action. For him to say on national television that there are lingering same-sex attractions doesn't send me into a tailspin, because I am completely confident and secure in his commitment to me, our family, and God."

Chambers says that his choosing to be faithful to his wife by not sleeping with men is no different than any other married man upholding his marital vows. "I am happy," he says. "I'm not denying myself anything. I don't want anything else. I am living my true self. For anybody to think otherwise is inserting themselves into a situation that is not theirs to insert themselves.

"People can think whatever they want to think," he continues. "I don't really give a crap these days. If you think I'm on a journey that's going to journey me out of my marriage and into something else, there's never been a thought of that. I don't want that. You don't know me. You can keep your opinion to yourself. I am married to the person I am in love with."

In person, Chambers and his wife certainly have the chemistry and casual affection of a couple that has been together for a long time. They share a lot of the same interests — shopping, home décor — and seem to see eye-to-eye when it comes to parenting their two children. Is it possible he is exaggerating or outright lying about his sex life? Sure. Might his and Leslie's relationship be something closer to best friends or even siblings? Certainly. And how exactly would this make them different from countless other couples that have been married for 16 years?

I ask them if the relentless judgments about their relationship from people who don't know them has caused the couple to reexamine their own thoughts on same-sex marriages. Chambers pauses before answering.

"Maybe to the extent that I can't judge someone and say their love isn't real or their life isn't important," he says. But actually supporting same-sex marriage at the moment is a bridge too far. "The whole promoting and lobbying for the passage of the federal marriage amendment, which I was very much a part of with Congress and the White House, I've been sorry about that for five years. I don't have a desire to fight people on those things anymore, but I'm not going to be their champion either. People don't need me to be marching in a gay pride parade in support of gay marriage. They may want me to, that might be a great symbol, but I don't want to do that."

That said, he does regret some of his other past political stances, and while he hopes to take a step back from public policy in general with the new organization Speak. Love., there may be points where he feels he has something to contribute.

"The whole notion of gay adoption — I would work to make sure kids have a home, whether there's a straight home, a single home, or a gay home," he says. "I feel passionate about us doing something about the issue of bullying. I feel passionate about kids that are being kicked out of their homes as teenagers because they come out as gay or lesbian. I feel passionate about undoing any damage that we did in Uganda or other countries."

Besen, of Truth Wins Out, sees an opportunity for Chambers to take up the LGBT cause and really atone for his past.

"I was just in Trenton, New Jersey, testifying on a panel about banning reparative therapy for minors," Besen says. "I would love to have been sitting next to Alan Chambers on that panel. He could've stated that reparative therapy doesn't work and it shouldn't be subjected to people against their will. So he can do a lot more. When he gets to the point where he's ready, we'll have a gigantic red carpet waiting for him. He could be a hero."

It's not clear Chambers is ready for this. At the moment, Speak. Love. is a work in progress. Chambers describes it with a lot of well-meaning phrases, like "a conversation about faith and sexuality," "modeling civility and respect," and "transforming churches into places that welcome all people," but what that will look like in practice remains to be seen. Plenty are skeptical.

Bussee, the former Exodus founder, is concerned that it is just a rebranding. "They may tone down the anti-gay rhetoric, they may get out of anti-gay politics, but their basic views about homosexuality have not changed," he says. "Who is going to want to support an organization that is really vague about what they're even about? He was attractive as long as they were promising orientation change and engaged in anti-gay politics. Conservative Christians loved that. But now what's he selling? Where is the donor base? Are moderate churches really going to want to give money to somebody who is preaching — what? That celibacy is possible?"

For this reason he thinks it'd be best if Chambers stepped out of the spotlight, at least for a while. "It's like, 'Alan, just lay off. Go put your life together, get out of this whole ministry thing. Get a real job. Enjoy your family. Just leave us alone and deal with this personal struggle you're having privately.'" Bussee admits that scenario isn't particularly likely. "What else is he going to do? He doesn't have a college education. He doesn't have any marketable skill. These people feel like they're called by God into ministry but now they're not welcomed by conservative Christians anymore, and they're not welcomed by the gay community. How is he going to support his wife and children? One former ex-gay leader I know is now working part-time in the lumber department at Home Depot."

Besen says Exodus' inherent pitch that unhappy homosexuals could change their orientation — while tragically misguided — had an obvious customer base, but Speak. Love., not so much. "With Exodus, people were promised a miracle, and that was very seductive," he says. "Right now, he's selling misery loves company, where you get to sit around and talk to people who are just as lonely and sexually frustrated. There's just not a big market for that."

Chambers believes most of his critics are so caught up in the culture wars that they are fighting him almost out of habit. While it's true that he will need to raise money from donors to fund both his new organization and pay himself, he wants to keep Speak. Love. small and manageable. He isn't looking to rebuild a network of member ministries and doesn't want to be in a position of pushing his opinions and beliefs on other people.

He says that despite the financial uncertainty that comes with founding this new organization, he's not panicked.

"Making a living is important, but money has never been a determining factor for any of the things that we did at Exodus. I'm not here to profit off of something. I'm here to do something I believe is right. With the apology and the closing of Exodus, that was the right thing to do. I feel really passionate that we do have a voice going forward and there are people who are listening."

He smiles and seems to relax.

"It's a leap of faith."

And if it doesn't work out, what then?

"I've begged God for years to let me be a decorator," he says, laughing. "If somebody offered me a job tomorrow, I'd be tempted."