Naked Mole Rats and Aslan: My Response to Elder Nelson's Devotional

To be fair, I wasn't invited to the party. The devotional was for 18-30 y.o. members of the church. I missed the cut, but that's nothing new. I've never been 100% sure what generation I am. So tonight I listened anyway to the recording.

I was, to put it nicely, discouraged by what I heard. But before I get to that, let me talk about bed time.

My oldest daughter's bedtime routine originally came about because we were trying to follow the advice of doctors and the internet to make bedtime a positive experience that she could look forward to. Over the years, the routine has expanded in both length and complexity. Beyond things like bathing and brushing, it consists of:

1. Reading a book together.
2. Turning on/off surrounding lights, lamps, and night lights in a certain order. 
3. Saying prayers. 
4. A "Rose story" in which I borrow, steal, or create one of a series of simple stories about a protagonist named "Rose". Current canonical favorites include "Rose and the Frog," "Rose and Puppies," "Rose and the Beanstalk," and "Rose and the 3 Bears."
5. 2-3 songs, with accompanying elaborate actions.
6. Reading a chapter from a non-picture book. We've been making our way through the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis.

The other night, in the midst of the pondering and wrestling I've been doing, I had a remarkable experience with the first and final readings of our routine. These experiences clarified the request I have for LDS prophets and the conditions for my full return to belief. 

Our first book (step #1) was a personal favorite: Naked Mole Rat Gets Dressed by the very talented Mo Willems. 

Without too many spoilers (a difficult task when summarizing a 15 page book), one particular naked mole rat decides to wear clothes--a major breach of naked mole rat precedent. After facing persecution and abandonment by his peers, he refuses to change this part of his personality. This prompts his erstwhile comrades to appeal to the authority of, as the book puts it, "Grand-pah, the oldest, greatest, and most naked naked mole rat ever." When pressed, Grand-pah considers thoughtfully his clothed progeny's simple question: Why not? Why not wear clothes? His decree after his thoughtful consideration changes naked mole rat land forever. 

Likewise, this is my plea to the prophets. Answer the question "Why not?" Why not embrace gay marriage? Why not embrace gay members? Why not seal them in temples?

Prophets have answered Why Not questions before. In fact, much of what I would call my testimony of LDS commandments has been driven by great Why Not teachings of the past 20 years. I believed in and followed the law of chastity largely because Elder Holland's masterful "Of Souls, Symbols, and Sacraments" placed sexual fidelity and loyalty in a breathtakingly large tapestry of divine purpose and identity. A reverence for health and the divine gift of my human body helped me draw my own lines in following the Word of Wisdom, lines that were much stronger under pressure than a list of do's and dont's imposed from outside authority. Leaders from my youth broke through to me when they taught that the law of tithing is mostly about seeing whether we're able to part from a small percentage of our earnings to see if charity can overcome selfishness (paying it to the church was just a useful secondary result). 

I could go on. Answering "Why not?" means that we must integrate a principle or teaching at a basic level of theology. It must be simple enough for a young person to understand and resonate enough that it sticks in their developing tapestry of belief. 

It was a rationale, an explanation, that forged true faith in commandments in my life. In contrast, calls to obedience for obedience's sake were tentative and temporary. 

Now, on to the second reading experience from the other night. Right now, my daughter and I are crawling through The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis. I won't pretend that I LOVE the Chronicles of Narnia anymore. They're nicely written allegories, but I respect more than enjoy them. However, we started them together, so we're going to finish them, darn it!

Even with that distant attitude towards our story, I have been moved at least once per book by the simple allegorical climax that teaches some aspect of Christ's nature. Forgiveness, sacrifice, watchfulness, personalized love. In each one, I feel something, if just for that page of the book. You may call it the Spirit testifying to my heart that I've learned something true. I might call it that, too. At the very least, I recognize that feeling as an emotion that comes into my heart when I hear, see, or think something completely good and completely worthy of emulation. I feel it when I see viral videos about helping homeless children. I feel it when I reflect on acts of charity I've seen my siblings, spouse, and children perform as they give to strangers and each other. As Aslan tells Shasta in A Horse and His Boy that he has been pushing and watching over him throughout his long journey, I have an emotional reaction that tells me this is an attitude I can and should emulate. 

The feeling is simple and powerful. Whatever you call it, I'll wager you recognize the emotional, visceral reaction to goodness. 

If/When the prophets explain the "Why not?" behind teachings about homosexuality, that's my standard. And when they do it, I expect it to be simple and to pierce my heart with goodness. If it does not do that, either in the moment or upon reflection, then I won't accept it. 

If they (or you) want me back to my invested, faithful self, this is my single condition. This is what I ask of my ecclesiastical leaders. This is my request for the prophets. Teach me. Show me. Explain to me. I can no longer accept the injunction to embrace cognitively dissonant obedience when that obedience goes against what I feel. Its work was tentative and temporary. It doesn't move me anymore. It's expired. It doesn't pierce my heart with goodness. 

A part of me has hope that this will happen. But a big part of me doesn't. That hopeless part only became larger as I listened to Elder Nelson counsel an entire generation of bright, hopeful young people that the policy change was "the mind and the will of the Lord." My LDS community will recognize the powerful connotation of those words. What was a policy yesterday is now revelatory, now doctrinal. What was reported as the preference of a few leaders is now the unanimous counsel of the Church. What was administrative is now part of the ministry. The line is no longer drawn in sand. According to Elder Nelson, my refusal to go against my feelings and knowledge groups me with "the servants of Satan."

I felt no goodness there. No arms outstretched still, beckoning me back with the still, small voice. I felt only closed ranks, impatience to move on and to forget about the whole messy business. 

I will move on too. The direction I move will be up to the Lord's servants. Please, teach me Why Not.