(RNS) The Via Dolorosa — the Way of Suffering — is a street in Jerusalem believed to be where Jesus carried his cross on the way to his crucifixion. For the 40 days of Lent, Christians will walk with Jesus on the road to Calvary.

At the beginning of Lent, on Ash Wednesday, we take on the cross of ashes upon our forehead, knowing that Jesus walked this walk for all of us. At the end, on Good Friday, we remember he was killed for his steadfast ministry to people consigned to the margins of society.

Sadly, the religious and political establishments of our world still fall prey to fear and prejudice; a modern-day Via Dolorosa runs through the very heart of Uganda.

Christianity Today recently reported that bishops of the (Anglican) Church of Uganda support most of their country’s proposed anti-gay law — the same one President Obama recently described as “odious.” The Ugandan bishops are prepared to send their gay sons and daughters to jail, even though they are, thankfully, stopping short of recommending the gallows.

The proposed law would threaten imprisonment for those who fail to report known or suspected homosexuals to the authorities. The bishops want to exempt clergy and counselors from that requirement, a protection the bishops curiously are not extending to family members.

One brave Anglican priest, the Rev. Canon Gideon Byamugisha, who has worked many years on HIV/AIDS in Uganda, put it this way: “… (T)his bill (if passed into law) will be state-legislated genocide against a specific community of Ugandans, however few they may be.”

On Feb. 7, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury and spiritual head of the Anglican Communion, addressed the Ugandan issue at the Church of England’s General Synod:

“The rights and dignities of gay and lesbian people are a matter of proper concern for all of us, and we assume with good reason –even, I should say, with good Christian reason — that the securing of these rights is obviously a mark of civilized and humane society.” When those rights are threatened, Williams said, “we quite rightly express repugnance.”

Yet, in the same speech, he blamed the Episcopal Church for the persecution of Christians in Malaysia and elsewhere after his U.S. flock ordained Bishop Gene Robinson, an openly gay man, in 2003:

“… the Episcopal Church (decision) to ordain a partnered homosexual bishop is, simply as a matter of fact, something that has a devastating impact on the freedom of, say, the Malaysian Christian to proclaim the faith without being cast as an enemy of public morality and risking both credibility and personal safety.”

Williams, it seems, is willing to speak out on behalf of some gay people, but not all. In this Lenten season, the crowd’s cry of “crucify him!” and Peter’s triple betrayal reminds us of one very clear reality: silence really does equal death.

Some courageous clergy like Byamugisha are speaking out on behalf of everyone, including gay people, but it does not come without risk. Several years ago, Bishop Christopher Senyonjo spoke out in support of gay human rights; he was subsequently relieved of his duties by the archbishop of Uganda.

Senyonjo, who served the Ugandan church for 50 years, pleaded for a church trial so he could make his case, but was denied. He now lives without a pension and continues to pray with, educate and support lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgender people and their families. At home, he cares for his grandchildren because he, like so many fellow bishops, lost his adult son to AIDS. He has been effectively isolated and exiled in his own church.

Uganda’s bishops may not be sending Senyonjo or Byamugisha to prison, but they are nonetheless isolating and silencing all who speak out against the persecution of gay people and their families.

There’s a favorite chorus of the faithful in Uganda: “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.” It poignantly reminds the faithful the church, like Uganda itself, has a history of martyrdom. Ironically, both church and state now stand ready to impose persecution and martyrdom on gay people and their families.

But, like all persecutions, the new martyrdom will only make this movement for basic human rights even stronger in Uganda; it will not destroy it.

Uganda’s own history, the ashes on the foreheads of our children and the seven last words of Jesus on the cross beg the question: “Why are we persecuting gay people in the name of God?”

(The Rev. Canon Albert Ogle is the vice president for national and international affairs with Integrity USA, a gay-rights group within the Episcopal Church. He is a resident priest at St. Paul’s Cathedral in San Diego, Calif.)