I am driving that long stretch of airwave desert between St. Paul and Madison, where Public Radio fades off the dial, and there's nothing left but rock and roll and Christian radio. Sometimes I prefer to turn off the radio and let my mind wander. But sometimes I leave it on and tune into Christian radio, just to learn something about the other America, the America I generally try to avoid.

It seems every time I listen to Christian radio, they're going on about homosexuality. You would think it was homosexuality radio. The last time it was outraged reports of Canada, where it will apparently soon be illegal to read the Bible and where they have "voted down marriage between a man and a woman."

This time it's a talk radio show for teens. The hosts are adult men, but they are inviting teens to call. "Vic" is on the line. He sounds young. He's tearfully recounting how when he's at church, he feels the spirit so strong, he feels strong in God. But when he's with his partner, he feels like he doesn't care about what happens in church. The three adults are telling him, "You know it doesn't work that way. You cannot continue to be with your partner and feel the Spirit of God. You know what you have to do." What he has to do is cut off his relationship with his partner.

"Vic" is breaking down. He says he's been praying to God to change his desires for three years, "since 1999." But it hasn't been working. God has never given him desire for women, but from time to time he can put aside his desire to be with a man. But he doesn't understand why God won't take it away for good. One of the adults, a "minister" with Exodus International, tells him God won't answer his prayers that way. Sometimes God means for us to live with our struggle; God doesn't take that away from us. "This show is God's gift to you," he tells "Vic." "It is God's way of giving you strength to continue the struggle."

The adults continue to tell "Vic" he must end his relationship with his partner. They give him a phone number for him to call, so they can "hook him up" with ministers in his area who can "help" him. "It's so important to get others to help you," they tell him. They press him to commit to call the phone number. "Vic" ends the call by saying, "I think I'm going to call my partner right now, and tell him it's over. I need time to figure things out." He doesn't sound sure this is the right thing to do, but his determination to do it is evident in his voice.

To me, it's like watching a horror movie, watching the victim open the door where you know the monster is lurking, waiting to slash and murder her. You want to scream to her, "Get out of that house, turn around, walk away, DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!" I want to tell "Vic": "These people are lying to you. They won't tell you the truth. They won't tell you that your chances of finding stability and maturity and happiness in your life are much greater if you can just accept that it's OK to love a man. When they tell you you can't have the Spirit of God and be in a relationship with a man, THEY'RE LYING! Follow your heart!"

I'm powerless. I can't reach Vic. If I tried to call into the show on my cell phone, I'm pretty sure they'd cut me off, never let me on the air. I can only watch the victim open the door, watch the monsters do their work.

Another teen calls in. His name is "Steve." There's fear in his voice. He's speaking so low you can barely hear him. He wants the guest from Exodus International to talk about what he did to overcome his homosexuality. The hosts don't want him to answer the question, they want to focus on "Steve."

"Steve, are you struggling with homosexual feelings?" the host asks.

"Maybe," says Steve, his voice low and tentative.

"You are, aren't you? It's OK to tell the truth. It's important for you to tell the truth," says the host. To me, his voice sounds smug. Maybe he thinks he is being reassuring.

"Have you gone all the way?" asks the guest from Exodus.

"No," says Steve.

"That's great!" says the Exodus guy, "When I got married, I wish I had been able to go into marriage with a clean slate. My wife was, but I wasn't. There's no way I can take back what I'd done earlier in my life... Once you go all the way, it's very difficult... You can never get rid of those memories."

"You won't be able to overcome this alone," says the host. Again, he gives the 800 number for Exodus. As they did with "Vic," they press Steve to commit to call the number. They don't let him go until he does.

After "Steve" hangs up, the hosts congratulate themselves on their good work. "Once they enter into a relationship, we have to do everything we can to break these things up."

What is that like, to boast of breaking up relationships? These are predators, like spiders waiting in a web, promising bright, shiny, storybook lives, and offering pain instead. If there is a God, I tell myself, there will be some kind of justice. These people will end up living frustrated, unsatisfied lives, with no one to help them through the lonely, empty nights, just like the people they "help." Someone will do this to them, just to prove some point of dogma, just for the satisfaction of knowing they are "right." Right now, all I can do is turn off the radio, and keep driving into the night.