Donnie McClurkin, the Grammy-winning gospel singer and pastor, has been named in a new civil lawsuit alleging sexual abuse — and for many LGBTQ+ people, the accusations land with a heavy and deeply familiar weight.
The lawsuit was filed by Giuseppe Corletto, a former personal assistant, who alleges that he was sexually abused by McClurkin over a period of years beginning in the early 2000s. According to the complaint, Corletto first encountered McClurkin through his church while seeking spiritual guidance during a time when he was struggling with his sexuality.
Corletto alleges that what began as prayer sessions and mentorship gradually became inappropriate and non-consensual, including unwanted touching during prayer and private encounters both inside and outside church settings. He says the alleged abuse continued after he became McClurkin’s assistant and caused long-term psychological harm.
McClurkin, through his attorney, has categorically denied the allegations, calling them false and stating that he intends to vigorously defend himself in court.
Why McClurkin’s anti-gay history matters
This case cannot be separated from McClurkin’s long and very public record of anti-gay rhetoric.
For decades, McClurkin has been one of the most prominent religious figures to publicly condemn homosexuality. He has repeatedly described being gay as a “sin,” claimed that same-sex attraction can and should be overcome, and framed queerness as a spiritual failing rather than an identity.
In the mid-2000s, McClurkin became a national flashpoint after endorsing so-called “ex-gay” narratives and conversion-therapy-style beliefs. His views led to widespread protests, particularly within Black LGBTQ+ communities, and resulted in canceled appearances and public backlash from civil rights groups.
At the time, McClurkin insisted that his views were rooted in faith and personal experience, and he rejected calls to soften or retract his statements.
Power, faith, and vulnerability
The lawsuit alleges a dynamic that LGBTQ+ advocates have warned about for years: the combination of spiritual authority, repression, and vulnerability.
Corletto says he approached McClurkin as a young man seeking help with his sexuality inside a religious framework that already framed queerness as shameful. Advocates note that this imbalance — where a powerful religious leader positions himself as both moral guide and gatekeeper — can create conditions ripe for manipulation and abuse.
It is important to emphasize that these are allegations, not a verdict. The legal process will determine what can be proven in court.
But for many queer people, especially those who grew up in conservative religious environments, the story feels painfully familiar: a leader who publicly condemns homosexuality while allegedly engaging in secret behavior that exploits the very shame he helped create.
A broader pattern many recognize
Cases like this resonate beyond one individual.
LGBTQ+ survivors and advocates have long documented patterns in which anti-gay religious rhetoric is paired with private misconduct, often shielded by power, fear, and silence. The emotional damage caused by such dynamics can last for years, especially for people taught that their identity itself is sinful.
The McClurkin case now moves into the legal system, where facts will be tested and claims examined.
For LGBTQ+ audiences, however, the broader conversation is already clear: accountability matters, context matters, and history matters — especially when someone has built influence by condemning the very people now central to the allegations.
