Tuesday, January 12, 2016

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. 


Sunday, January 10, 2016

Letter to a Good Man: Backstory and Wrestling with Self Doubt

Over the past weeks, I have received numerous messages that have run the gamut between support and condemnation. Somewhere between those two extremes, I received a lovingly written email from a man who cares a great deal about me. He is, as far as imperfect humans can be, blameless and without guile.

In his email, he posed important questions about my motivations and methodology. He quoted passages from my posts that he felt to be unfair judgments of prophets and apostles. He also asked (but did not accuse me) if I had considered that I was being too hasty in my judgment of these men, if I was confident enough to pit my experience against that of men who have lived many times my years, if pride could have clouded my judgment, and if I had considered that I could be wrong. Earnest questions from an earnest man.

It was a helpful process for me to spend much of the evening responding to his questions. I thought it might also be helpful to others to reproduce my response here. As always, writing and responding to critique helps me to clarify my own thoughts and reasons. So thank you.


______________________________________________________________________


You have outlined here many of my own self-doubts and internal struggles. I'll try to respond as best as I can and do so in the same spirit of openness and love you have demonstrated.

The baseline for everything I've said and written has been a series of experiences over the past several years. When these experiences began, my difficulties with church doctrine were centered on questions of the history of race in the church and gender roles. When Proposition 8 flared up (so this would have been shortly after ____ and I were married), for the first time I was confronted with questions about sexuality and the plan of salvation.

Over the next several years, I gave intermittent attention to these questions, but found few answers besides noted scholars showing how English translations of the biblical record had been part of a centuries-long twisting of meaning and interpretation into calcified and generalized messages against LGBT people when, in fact, the original texts say something quite different (most notably I'm referring here to the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and Paul's statements in his epistles). So, my intermittent attention to questions of God and sexual orientation had left me with serious distrust of the English scriptures' authority to resolve this issue. And since my Greek and Hebrew aren't really exegesis-ready (or ready at all), I needed other sources of guidance.

As I began working at Epic, I became friends with many more LGBT individuals and, thanks to my travel around the country, met up and stayed in contact with a number of gay friends from my mission, college years, and more. This intensified my disquiet, so I did what you would expect. I took it to the Lord. Again, and again, and again. Time and again, I received the impression that I can best represent with these words:

"They are mine and they are whole. They are my sheep as you are my sheep. They are my lambs as you are my lambs. Their place is your place. Their salvation and comfort are your salvation. The difference between you and them is no difference. The plan is the same. Read and ponder my words to my disciples on the Mount."

That's a cumulative recreation of a number of distinct and partial impressions. These impressions came strongly as I worked closely with coworkers or heard the heartbreaking stories of gay mission companions and friends dwindling in or estranged from the church. I returned again and again to the Sermon on the Mount and gradually began to associate these friends who were not given a workable life in the church as those who were persecuted for righteousness' sake. I also saw among the many injunctions in the sermon a calling to mourn with those who mourn. Though perhaps it was not my place to ask, I asked the Lord for insight into their pain so I could mourn as their brother in Christ. To feel some part of what they felt.

The result is a strong conviction about the Lord's place for LGBT brothers and sisters in his plan and in his kingdom. And it is a conviction diametrically opposed with doctrines that teach that homosexuality is an inherently evil practice or perversion and, at best, a debilitating life challenge. So you see, there is no rush here. This is the product of countless hours and prayers.

And so, you ask, "What if you're wrong?" Of course I could be wrong, But if careful study, pondering, and prayer has brought me this knowledge and conviction, how could I ever know if I'm right or wrong about anything? Have I not followed the process taught and modeled by the church and the prophets? Have I not gone to the font of all wisdom and love? The only way I would know I was misguided would be from additional light and knowledge. This is something, on this topic, that the leaders of the church do not seem inclined to give. Point me to an explanation by prophets of homosexuality's inherent sinfulness, and I will read and ponder it.

If the brethren are silent on the why and the still, small voice whispers a steady stream of instruction, what am I to do?

You ask about pride. No doubt I am guilty of this sin. But I have searched my conscience to find the enmity that President Benson taught of. I have no enmity towards the leaders of the church. I do have a difference in belief with them. I earnestly wish to know why we have this difference. But no enmity. My difference has forced me to ask questions about what I believe about their infallibility in matters of practice and doctrine, but I am not angry with them. I seek to keep a humble perspective as I take this journey of questions.

Why then, you may ask, do I use terms like "hateful" if I profess no enmity? Because I'm imperfect. And hurt and confused. But I used the word on purpose. I did not use the term "spiteful". That term would imply a cognizance of one's hatred. I am in no place to judge the mindsets of church leaders, just as they are not in a position to judge mine. But I can judge effects. We can be hateful without premeditation. Was it hateful to cause pain to black brothers and sisters because of incorrect doctrine embraced by the body of the church? Of course. Its result was hate whether the body of the church wanted that effect or not. Preaching the sinfulness of homosexuality, its abnormality, its lack of place in the plan of salvation, of shrugging our shoulders or adding our question to the metaphorical shelf while "we" go on with our happy eternal families and "they" are ostracized and cut off sends a message of hate, of ontological dislike or distaste or disenfranchisement. This type of ontological gap cannot be bridged by other loving gestures like anti-discrimination legislation because, in the end, the ontological distance and exclusion is still there, glowering in the shadows and making it clear that "they" can come closer, but no further than the clear line that keeps us separate.

Finally, you ask if I have the impropriety to match my limited experience and age against the collective experience of these men. I think experience and age merit respect and serious consideration. But experience does not always equal wisdom, nor does it include all possible perspectives. I think the religious history of all faiths, and especially ours, teaches that quite clearly.

I hope that answers your questions and helps put your mind at ease that, if I am blundering, I am not blundering because of half-cocked anger, pride, or thoughtlessness. That I am trying to be careful and humble in both thought and deed. Perhaps our difference in this idea is that I do not equate humility to acquiescence to authority and precedent. I esteem loyalty as a virtue, but I think humility involves submitting your life to the truth, no matter its source. Thus, for me, silence is no mark of humility, not when you have something to say. No doubt I will continue to experience pride and you are right to call out any immoderate tone or thoughtlessness. But those briefs moments of passion are not the basis for this journey, and I hope that will become clear with time. 

Friday, January 8, 2016

My Path After the Policy, and My Resolution

Boilerplate: I welcome constructive comments. Please point out flaws in my reasoning or understanding. Just do so respectfully. 

"Yet panics, in some cases, have their uses; they produce as much good as hurt. Their duration is always short; the mind soon grows through them, and acquires a firmer habit than before. But their peculiar advantage is, that they are the touchstones of sincerity and hypocrisy, and bring things and men to light, which might otherwise have lain forever undiscovered." - Thomas Paine, Crisis I


This post is about doubt. There is no happy ending at the end of it. No redeeming moral beyond the hope for new discovery that Thomas Paine describes so eloquently above. Rather, this post seeks to chart what I've felt the past few months as my intricately woven beliefs have, despite my best efforts, unwound.

I think it's more than fair to ask: "Why now? Why, after all the many things you've read and thought about from polygamy to Book of Mormon geography, would something as innocuous as a policy that simply clarifies the church's stance against gay marriage cause this little crisis of yours?" Taking a step back, I'll concede that the doubt that follows seems disproportionate to its source.

However, the answer comes down to my relationship to the prophets and apostles who lead the LDS church. This relationships has characterized my religious practice and thought my entire life, and it is this relationship which determines my place in the Mormon community. You might even saw this relationship is what makes me Mormon.

I have long advocated for the attitude supported by many great LDS thinkers, from Terryl Givens to Brigham Young, that prophets are individuals with a special calling to speak in the name of deity. Along with this calling, however, comes the extremely difficult task of guiding a community that craves their guidance in every permutation of the law without wanting to hear or know about the difficulties of erratically timed personal revelation.

A close study of prophetic experiences in Christian scripture does not paint a picture of prophets standing by a dictaphone taking constant notes from heaven. That type of constantly available, waterfall-like revelation seems reserved for two figures well on the margins of that canon--Muhammad and Joseph Smith--and even then, only for short stretches of remarkable theological production.

As for the rest of them? Revelation from God seems to have been about as common as striking a stone to extract water. The spiritual experiences that shaped these prophets were rare and life-changing, but they did not occur often enough for the prophet to always speak confidently with the voice of God.

Unfortunately, precedent and organizational pressures created movements and churches with millions who demanded that very kind of omnipresent prophetic theophany. But much of my reading, especially of the Bible and many parts of the Book of Mormon, reveals tale after tale of prophets using their own best judgment when the heavens remain silent. They issue edicts in the name of Jehovah because that's what the people want. They don't want to hear what Moses or Joshua, Peter or Paul has to say. They want what God has to say about eating shrimp, or fighting the Amalekites, or figuring out when all these people who are mean to us are going to burn in everlasting flames. And the prophets acquiesce. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes it doesn't.

This creates a serious problem of expectations, and this problem is clear throughout LDS history (which I know far better than the histories of other religious traditions). These prophets have the demands of two very different audiences. Those who wish to have the truth handed to them and those who recognize that even a prophet can't always speak divine truth.On the one hand, you have a Brigham Young begging those listening to him to find out for themselves if what he's teaching them comes from God: "The greatest fear I have is that the people of this Church will accept what we say as the will of the Lord without first praying about it and getting the witness within their own hearts that what we say is the word of the Lord." On the other, you have him fiercely defending his teachings on topics like race and blood atonement.

The problem is not that prophets make mistakes. In fact, a prophet with very human struggles is far more faith-affirming to me than a prophet who basks within the clean lines of infallibility.

Instead, the problem comes when prophets forget this dichotomy and their own imperfection. Think of the doctrines mentioned above, taught by President Young and perpetuated, to some degree, by others. Think of the doctrine of polygamy. Think also of great steps forward. President Woodruff taking a step back and realizing that polygamy was putting the entire community at risk or President Kimball having the gumption to look beyond precedent and inherited biases to ask hard questions about race and the plan of salvation. In all cases, all of this, good and bad, was credited God. But I'm beginning to be suspicious of ascribing all of this to divine injunction.

Enter the policy change. Like I mentioned in earlier posts, I do not believe this attitude towards LGBT brothers and sisters comes from God. It is instead an attitude mired in a tradition of fear and misunderstanding. It is hate justified by pseudoscience and tragic precedent. I don't demand that prophets foresee all mistakes and problems. But I do expect them to be responsive (not reactionary) when the outside world leads out in the process of becoming better

But if the prophets contend through both direct statements and tacit maintenance of a hateful status quo that this comes of God, then they are making a willful mistake, and I am left with a difficult choice. Either privilege obedience to these prophets at the cost of my own tacit support of a policy that causes pain to my brothers and sisters or privilege purity of conscience at the cost of the doubt and pain that will undoubtedly occur along that path.

I find myself choosing to walk down the latter path for a piece. I choose to look closely at the intricate justifications and explanations I have crafted to make sense of the good, the bad, and the ugly of Church history, theology, and practice and to see if, to paraphrase Thomas Paine's word, I have been wanting in sincerity, hiding contradictions in the shadows to keep them undiscovered from myself and others.

So I will question it all. From the nature and existence of deity to the organization of the 21st century Church. I relinquish the bulwark of loyalty to see what lies beyond. I may return someday to the relative safety of orthodox obedience, but not until I have journeyed and determined that, after all, its safety is the best place for me to learn and grow and that it is the most ethical, most healing, most productive spiritual place possible in life.

My tools will be many: the thoughts of men and women (both holy and profane), the experiences of my life, and the moments of mystic awe from throughout my life that I will seek to remember and retain.

And you. Your thoughts and your experiences. I am grateful for the thoughtful and personal outpouring of hope, understanding, shared concerns, and rescue. Your love (and concern and outrage and fear and support) means a great deal to me and will shore up the way on this difficult path.



Tuesday, December 29, 2015

A Letter to a Good Bishop

Below, I've recreated a letter I sent to my excellent bishop in the aftermath of the church's decision to make gay marriage grounds for apostasy. I share this as the starting point of this story, as the moment an my faith began to splinter. I'll describe the ongoing process that followed this moment in a post later this week.

Identifying information has, of course, been redacted. 
______________________________________________________________________________


November 11, 2015

Dear Bishop ________,
In preparation for our appointment and receiving your counsel, I wanted to write down my thoughts and struggles that stem from the recent policy changes in the church handbook. While many aspects of this change are not new for the church, the increased clarity of the church’s direction has helped me clarify my own beliefs and stance. Because of this newly clarified belief, I am not sure if you will want me to continue serving as the Young Men’s organization president. But to begin that conversation, I thought it would be useful for you to understand where I currently stand, so to speak.
Let me begin by saying I believe and follow the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is beautiful. It is expansive, and it has healed my heart and soul countless times. Despite the difficult doctrinal questions I’ve had throughout my life, the inspiring and magnificent theology restored through the prophet Joseph Smith has held powerful sway over my life. However, these policy changes do not reflect the Gospel of Jesus Christ I know and love.
In the unlikely case you are unaware of these changes, they are two-fold:

1.      Same-gender couples that marry or co-habitate must face church discipline and be classified as apostates.
2.      The children of same-gender couples may not be blessed, baptized, receive the Aaronic Priesthood or be recommended for missionary service until they reach the age of 18 and:
·         Disavow the same-gender relationship.
·         No longer live in the household of the same-gender couple.
·         Receive authorization from the First Presidency to be baptized (admitted to the church).
I will begin with my objections to the second of the two. The policy to create significant barriers to church activity for the children of same-gender couples bewilders me. I believe it is the antithesis of what Christ taught and that it undermines the universal urgency of his Gospel. I have wrestled with this specific change for a week now. It has consumed my thoughts since I learned of it. I have spent much time in study, contemplation, and prayer on it, and I have come to the conclusion that it is not consistent with Christ’s teachings and, therefore, must originate from men. I cannot support it and I do not wish to  give any appearance of my acceptance of it. I see this change as a well-intentioned but ultimately harmful policy based on tradition rather than revelation.
I know of many good LDS men who served faithful missions, attempted to follow the counsel of their leaders to suppress their homosexual feelings, pray to overcome them, marry an unsuspecting woman, start a family and after years of marriage realize they could no longer suppress their true sexual identity. Their families are separated by divorce. These men find they no longer have a place within our Church and are, in effect, exiled. After their exile, they meet someone of the same gender, move in and/or get married. Their children live with both parents due to split custody agreements. This policy adversely affects these children in a very real and tangible way. They will not be able to participate in any of the milestones that are expected in our church: baptism, temple attendance, Aaronic Priesthood participation and advancement, or a mission. When they turn 18, they must disavow a parent’s relationship, state they don’t approve of same-gender marriage, and not live with the homosexual parent.
My father is one of these men. He and my mother divorced during my teenage years for many reasons, but chief among them was that fact that my father is gay and had struggled for years to understand how to deal with that fact within the LDS church and his very conservative family. He came out to me several years after my mission, but I was aware of his sexual orientation prior to entering the MTC. If a few things had gone differently in the eternal scheme, my summers with my father would have led to me being one of the children barred from the Aaronic priesthood and required to disavow my father’s sexual orientation as a prerequisite for the missionary service I rendered. Apart from my doubt that I could have comfortably disavowed an aspect of my father’s God-given identity, I would not have been active in seminary or church meetings without the strong connections to the church generated through “normal” membership. As it was, I struggled sometimes to actively participate in our community, though good leaders and a focus on priesthood responsibility saw me through the already significant barriers of difference that existed because I was both a child of divorce and had much less economic advantage than my peers in the ward. Without thorough gospel preparation and community connection, I would not have served a mission, would never have attended BYU, would not have met and married my incredible wife in the temple, and would not have experienced so many things, from my brilliant daughters to my employment as a visiting professor at BYU, that give such depth and happiness to my life. My life is immeasurably blessed by the gospel, and my experience with the gospel is tightly bound to its influence on me as a youth.
In short, this policy would have damaged my life and spiritual development. It is not difficult for me to imagine it doing the same to many other children, both inside and outside the church.
Now, for the first policy change. My belief about same-sex marriage is contrary to this change. I am not opposed to same-sex marriage; in fact, I fervently support it. I have read comments from Elder D. Todd Christofferson that state I can so believe and still remain a member of the church in good standing. However, it seems clear to me that acting in support of those beliefs now formally constitutes support of apostasy. I am not a member of any specific organization (besides the Democratic Party) that supports this belief, but I may join one. If anyone asks me about my stance, I have and will explain I don’t oppose it.
Further, I will not teach others that same-sex marriage is a sin. I don’t believe that it is (I realize this is contrary to currently accepted church doctrine). However, I firmly believe in the Law of Chastity. I believe that all members of the Church should obey this law. I simply believe that our LGBT brothers and sisters should have a path that allows them to obey this law without being accused of apostasy and subjected to church discipline.
I believe that homosexuality is not a choice (in most situations). I believe people are born with a sexual identity that can’t be altered (not by counseling, fasting, prayer, scripture study, or Priesthood blessings). I have read and listened to the stories of too many faithful members who are gay to believe that it was their choice. I believe that God made them gay, and I believe it is a positive and affirmative part of his plan of salvation, not an inherent trial (though our society has certainly excelled in making it one). I believe that by denying LGBT members the opportunity to marry and remain in good standing, we ask them to deny the full measure of their creation. I don’t believe it is fair (or comes from God) to ask someone who is gay to live a life of celibacy and loneliness in order to comply with the current doctrine taught by our church. I don’t believe that homosexuality is anything like polygamy. And I don’t believe that LGBT couples or their children’s presence in our community would alter other members’ sexuality to entice them towards same-gender marriages.
I don’t believe the church’s stance against homosexuality is based on anything more than tradition and fear. Here, too, I have spent a great deal of time in study, prayer, and reflection. I have studied scriptures both ancient and modern that are thought to concern homosexuality. I find no condemnation nor reasoning behind labeling homosexuality a sin. It is not mentioned in the scriptures of the Restoration. References in the Bible are either nuanced, mistranslated, or traditionally misinterpreted. Modern counsel gives no justification for the ban besides vague explanations that the practice opposes the plan of salvation without ever explaining how in any terms that escape circular reasoning. In contrast, there are multiple passages in the scriptures meant for our dispensation that unequivocally condemn the practice of polygamy and give clear reasoning behind this condemnation (along with the few that explain its purpose among the early saints).
Thus, with no real scriptural basis I can find, and drawing upon a strong belief wrought of long and painful study, I believe the official doctrine that labels homosexuality as inherently sinful (and as a result, "same-gender" marriages as similarly sinful) is, like the policy described above, contrary to Christ’s teachings and, therefore, also from men. I believe these teachings are inflicting great harm upon our LGBT members, their families, and the church as a whole.
I look forward to further discussing my feelings and beliefs with you. I also look forward to your counsel in how I can move forward in the church.
I know that my position as a Young Men’s organization president comes with significant responsibilities, from setting an example for the young men with my own life to the practical and spiritual instruction I’m asked to provide in Sunday meetings, mutual, and scouting activities. I also know that my beliefs may be objectionable to families of some of the boys.
For this reason, I wanted to be completely transparent about my beliefs and give you all the information you need to minister to our ward. I feel that my beliefs correspond with the gospel of Jesus Christ, but I am not naïve enough to think they would not be objectionable to many in our ward. And I do not want to sow chaos in our ward by virtue of my position in it. I seek a path that allows me to both have a clear conscience and continue working alongside my brothers and sisters in the Lord’s vineyard.
Whether I continue in my calling or not, know that I will continue in my active membership in the church I believe in until the day I die or the day (which I hope never comes) when I am asked to leave.

With love,
 (Me)
_____________________________________________________________________________

So there you have it. I should point out that church leadership later clarified its policy to apply only to children who live the majority of their time with parents in a same-sex marriage. While that means my young self would not have been as directly affected by the policy, my objections still stand. Just because I wouldn't be cast off from the church doesn't diminish my distaste for the idea as a whole. 

Spoke in the Wheel: My Current Struggles with the LDS Church and A New Project

About a year ago, I began a systematic study of prophets, posting what I hoped would be a serial work that help both me and others in our quest to understand our relationship to God's prophets and His relationship with them.

About 6 months ago, that study ran out of gas.

First, the chaos of the fall semester overcame my free time. Even when I had a moment to spare, my mental fatigue enticed me towards the fluffier things of life instead of an intricate study of faith and discipleship. My intention was always to pick up where I left off this coming January.

Then, two months ago, my intellectual connection with the LDS Church was significantly fractured by policy changes that made gay and lesbian marriages grounds for formal apostasy (to non-LDS readers: that means "discipline" intended to correct individuals' heretical behavior and/or sever ties with the heretical individuals), with various other conditions and repercussions that I won't go into here. This significantly conflicted  with my beliefs in a way that I could no longer ignore. My personal belief has long been that God's plan has a purpose for all of us. That none of us are mistakes in that plan. That gay, straight, or anything else, we are not mistakes but rather manifestations of eternity's complexity.

The church's policy announcement fractured a carefully woven bubble I had constructed to allow this belief to flourish within the mainstream church. By reading nuance and in between lines, I had been able to nestle my theology within the church's larger theological framework without untoward cognitive dissonance. A combination of loyalty, tradition, and commitment to other aspects of LDS theology kept me lashed to the mainstream church. However, once the policy announcement ended the continued possibility of my belief within the church's framework, I had a number of difficult questions to ask. Perhaps "had" is a little misleading since those questions continue to form the nucleus of my thought in the quiet hours I dedicate to study, meditation, thought, and prayer. As time went on, my thoughts moved beyond prophets and policy to other areas.

The more I thought and studied and listened, the more I began to question a number of assumptions I held about LDS practice and theology. Currently, I am renegotiating my place in the LDS church. I still attend and serve in my calling. I do that out of the same loyalty, tradition, and sense of responsibility that has always motivated me to attend and serve. I even still teach at BYU, the church's flagship university (though that contract ends this year and I do not plan to renew it). However, I have been clear with my leaders that I do not believe current church policies to be sound, nor will I advocate or defend them within the purview of my calling.

I have also been clear that this fracture has caused a chain reaction of doubt and uncertainty about many of the core doctrines espoused by the church. In LDS-speak, this could be termed a "crisis of faith" or "losing my testimony." I'm not sure I would use these terms. Instead, I see it as an opportunity to search and ponder for additional truth. In fact, this is where the blog comes in. In the coming months and even years, I plan on sharing what I learn as I question fundamental aspects of LDS theology and practice.

To start, I will share the letter I sent to my bishop two months ago. I think this is a good way to share with others what I was thinking at the initial fracture point in November. Then, I'll post some thoughts about how that initial fracture led to additional doubts.

Finally, I'll begin the more constructive aspect of this journey as I seek to better understand divinity, its manifestations in my life, and my responsibility towards it. I hope you'll offer constructive critique and insight along the way.

Who knows but someday I'll make it full circle back to completing The Road to Middoni

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Interim Post: A Few Sincere Questions

Below you'll find an email conversation between me and a new friend from church. Here's some background. After the First Presidency of the LDS church released its statement on its continued stance against same-sex marriage (as well as its continuing commitment to fight for basically all other civil rights and compassion for LGBT individuals), I wrestled with how to teach this message to the youth. Perhaps it is no coincidence that the letter and the ensuing Sunday discussions occurred during a month with the instructional theme "Marriage and Family." After talking with the young men I teach about how they might teach their friends and people in their future mission fields about the subject, I received the following email.

I share this because I think it is a wonderful example of how dialogue between members of the church about troubling issues should work. There are so many bad examples out there, I thought it might be nice to read some positive disagreement.

I'm sure I've made errors of judgment and fact in the exchange, and you're welcome to critique them. But this is the raw, uncut dialogue. I think the realness is part of the lesson. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Subject: A Few Sincere Questions

Dave,

I very much appreciated both your testimony and your lesson today.  The controlled environment of role playing allowed our priests to see what kind of situations they might come across, and a glimpse of how hard some conversations can be (you took it pretty easy on them, and it was still a struggle!).

Having seen your posts on Facebook regarding gay marriage, I didn't know how you would handle the topic in a Priests Quorum setting, and I was actually surprised that you chose to bring it up again this week.

In your testimony you mentioned that you've had a number of friends leave the Church in recent years (due, no doubt, to issues like these), and that you've had to work through your thoughts and feelings to the point where you've chosen to stay (and I am so happy that you have).  I've had a similar experience.  I too have had friends leave the Church, and my soul has squirmed more than a few times during the political/moral upheaval of the past few years.  I've had to examine my own perspectives on homosexuality, feminism, etc.  While I can't say that I advocate for gay marriage, I am certainly an advocate of dialogue, understanding, and compassion.  From what I see on Facebook, you lean in favor of gay marriage, [despite?] your testimony of prophets and the truthfulness of the gospel they preach.  Before I go any further, please, please, please, know that I am not judging or criticizing you.  I admire you, and it has already been a joy to work with you.  I simply want to understand where you're coming from.  So, I've got a few sincere questions I've been meaning to ask you:

1. What are your honest beliefs and feelings about homosexuality/gay marriage?

2. If you support gay marriage, and/or are okay with homosexuality, how do you reconcile that with what the leadership of the Church has declared in response to recent events?

3. What has your introspective process been like as you've tried to navigate these ideas/doctrines/issues?

I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you to the fringe.  I'm not accusing you of heresy by any means!  I (and likely many other members) have been going through a similar period of searching and introspection, and I mourn for so many who have chosen to step away from a Church and a Gospel that has blessed them so much during their years of activity.  And yet, I have a handful of friends who, like you (I think), have maintained a pro-gay marriage stance while remaining devout, active, contributing members of the Church.  I just want to understand that mentality :)

It would mean a lot if you could respond.  I'm totally down to talk about it in person, or if you'd prefer to e-mail back that's cool too.  You're the man.

Thanks,

X

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Hi X,

Thanks for the email. I'll try to do your questions justice in writing. But I'm happy to continue the dialogue in person should clarification prove necessary. This is certainly more than you bargained for:

1. What are your honest beliefs and feelings about homosexuality/gay marriage?
I think we got so hung up on the idea of "marriage" being a religious icon that we forgot that we're also a country that values equality under the law. People don't get special or worse treatment because of who they are. If there are certain statutes about marriage (i.e. the only two I know of are age of consent and monogamy) they should apply whether two men or two women or a man and a woman wish to avail themselves of them. Tradition, not law, prevented gay marriage, and the attempts to retroactively retool the wording of laws and statutes struck me as typically mean-spirited and politically expedient for base demagogues. Problem was, they got everyone to buy in. 

If nothing else, the state has a duty to ensure that there are incentives for individuals who love each other to build a home together and a community with their neighbors. As a believer in marriage, I think marriage provides the stable foundation necessary for a community to flourish, and rewriting laws in ways that push a significant minority of our brothers and sisters to the unseen margins contributes, more than anything else, to damaging behaviors. In fact, I believe it is the stigma against LGBTQ individuals that contributes more than anything else to the immorality and riskiness that so many label "the gay lifestyle."

There is nothing inherently risky or immoral about homosexuality. Rather, when we push it into the shadows, we give the adversary an opportunity to twist sexuality into something immoral and dangerous. That holds true for the entire spectrum of sexualities. Thus, in a sense, I believe traditional (if we want to use that term) society and morality is responsible for the occasional perversion (i.e. child abuse) and health concerns (i.e. HIV) that the same traditional community uses to condemn homosexuality outright. Of course child abuse is evil. But it is not, as so many have fallaciously claimed, endemic or causal to homosexuality. Nor is the spread of HIV the fault of gay men. It is the result of unChristlike judgment and hatred. 

As for homosexuality itself, I believe it is usually not a person's choice (though of course, in some cases, it is), but rather an innate sense of what gender they are attracted to, both romantically and physically. I cannot explain why I'm attracted to my wife. I don't presume to provide alternate explanations of why a man is attracted to men or a woman to women or both to both. 

On a larger scale, history and biology make a pretty clear case that homosexuality has always been a part of not only human society, but also occurs regularly across species that reproduce sexually. Thus I find the explanation that homosexuality is inherently sinful to really be an indictment of God's plan of salvation. Why would he give some individuals same sex attraction and not others? Within the current doctrine of the church, there does not seem to be a way for LGBTQ individuals to exist in a loving, monogamous relationship. I'm troubled by that. We seem to be dooming some of our brothers and sisters to a lonely existence on this earth simply because God made them a certain way. That bothers me enough to believe that we're missing something in our understanding of God's plan.

2. If you support gay marriage, and/or are okay with homosexuality, how do you reconcile that with what the leadership of the Church has declared in response to recent events?

To put it bluntly, I think the leadership is sometimes wrong, especially on this issue. I believe that, like the priesthood ban, either an older generation of church leaders aren't prepared to receive further explanatory revelation on the subject or that, as a church body, we're unable to receive that truth. The progress of generations will bring that light and knowledge eventually, correcting one or both of those obstacles as needed. I don't find that testimony-breaking. Rather, I find it to coincide with everything I've ever learned about prophets. But I also don't think I'm completely right. I have no doubt that my explanatory framework above smacks of imperfect reasoning and assumptions. So, in the absence of further light and knowledge about the plan of salvation, I'm content to follow the prophet while still perhaps disagreeing with him on this topic. For me, that dissonance actually gives more meaning to the sustaining vote I give him 4 times a year.

Of course, I don't preach my views from the pulpit if they contradict current prophetic teachings. I do, as appropriate, try to humbly correct falsehoods about homosexuality that migrate from old or bad social science into the mouths of fellow members. But more importantly, I exercise my agency and the great gift of personal revelation to put general authorities' statements about homosexuality to the test. I typically find kernels of truth in them, but I also find things that don't feel right or correct. Encouragingly, I have also seen the leaders of the Church slowly correct false conceptions about homosexuality. For example, the Church reversed its position on the provenance of homosexuality several years ago. They now counsel church leaders like bishops that, in most cases, homosexuality isn't a choice and can't be "healed." That's a significant change from just 10 years ago. It can be maddeningly slow, but I believe the church is moving in the right direction. I pray for my leaders and I pray for the humility to follow them. As an example, I'm contemplating posting my responses to your questions on my blog. I (probably pridefully) think that our exchange might benefit others. But if our stake president asked me to take it down, I would. Why?

For me, the good that many can do outweighs the good I could do as an unprophetic voice of change. Thus, I believe more good can be attained by faithfully and actively serving in the church than can be attained by cutting myself off from it out of self-righteous pride, even if that pride comes from being right. Thus, I find the choice that some make to leave the church for reasons of conscience to be lazy and self-serving. They sacrifice the difficulty of serving in the Lord's hospital for the ease of a self-satisfied conscience. That may seem harsh, and it shouldn't detract from the good work many former members of the church do in the community to correct abuses of power and crimes committed by others in our community. Nor does it intimate that I, somehow, am more righteous or courageous than they are. But in terms of this particular choice, that's the stark realization I've come to. I believe, with a little humility, they could find ways to be an incredible asset to the church and still perform many of the vital actions they perform outside of church membership (helping victims of polygamy, child abuse, unrighteous dominion, etc.). And that opinion is absolutely a judgment, but it's a judgment I had to perform. I had to decide whether to follow them or not, so judgment was 100% on the agenda.

So for me, it comes down to a question: Would I rather be smugly right and detached from God's mouthpiece or often uncomfortably "right" (and even sometimes silenced) but attached to him. My testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, the divine nature of Joseph Smith's calling, and the reality of the atonement of Jesus Christ (and its whole purpose!) have lead me to stay. 

3. What has your introspective process been like as you've tried to navigate these ideas/doctrines/issues?

 A constant battle between pride and humility. Between stomach-churning unease/anger and soul-restoring revelation. Like I told the priests on Sunday. When you are talking with investigators (or class members, home teaching families, your own children, etc.), testify of what you know 100%. That will bring the Spirit. And once you have that companionship, then you can begin to explore the practicalities of living in a world full of gray spaces. 

Perhaps that's the best place to end. Gray spaces. Undergirding all of this, I believe our loving Heavenly Father sets us up to flounder in gray spaces like this. Spaces where we have only shadows of scripture and prophetic insight to guide us. It is in these places that I believe some of the most important tests of mortality take place. Why? Because the Lord wants to see how we navigate the cognitive dissonance of obedience and individual conscience. Of tradition and compassion. Of pride and humility. Of dogma and flexibility. It is in the gray areas that we show him that we are thinking before we act (or not thinking, as the case may be). Most importantly, when we have gray spaces, the areas that bother us, that cause unease and dissonance in our souls, there will without fail follow a moment that tests our ability to rely on Him. For me, teaching the priests about how to teach others about the Church's stance on same-sex marriage was one of those tests. I had to balance all of my inner contradictions and rely on Heavenly Father to guide me as to what to say to those young men on this subject in that moment. I hope the results were helpful. I don't presume to think they were spiritually breathtaking. But the process of preparation for yesterday's lesson was spiritually uplifting for me, at the very least. And one more sliver of Heavenly Father's plan was revealed to me as a result. So, sliver by sliver, I rejoice in the gray areas of the gospel and the chance to demonstrate to my Savior that I am thinking, breathing, struggling, (but still following) disciple. 

So there you go. If you don't object, I'd like to post our exchange (anonymized) on my blog. Of course, anyone that wants to do too much research would quickly piece together that there are only so many people who work with the priests in our ward. So if you aren't comfortable with that level of anonymity, I'll just post my answers to your questions. 

I think it would be a good interlude to a longer discussion I'm working on in that space. Thanks for the opportunity to articulate my thoughts and, by so doing, clarify them. 

All the best,
Dave

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Dave,

Thanks for that beautifully articulated response.  Seriously, I appreciate it.  I have no objections whatsoever to your posting this in your blog!  I don't care if you use my name either.  It's just a decent conversation about something that matters.  I thought you might enjoy the time and space to respond in text, although in-person conversations are great.  Sometimes it helps to formulate thoughts better when you can read over them and word them well.

I think you're absolutely right that many assertions regarding homosexuality are steeped in tradition and culture rather than truth or even just good research.  And those assertions are often propagated by discomfort, or even a xenophobic hatred.  That's pretty human.  Or should I say, that's very characteristic of the natural man.  I think our growth and development as a society and as God's family is reflective of our individual repentance.  We tend to be slow, and to struggle in the micro scale, so it only makes sense that macro-repentance would take a long time.

And as you mentioned, I know that we don't have all the puzzle pieces to see the entirety of God's plan, or the truths and laws that allow it to function.  Living by faith is tough sometimes.  Navigating these issues the past few years has been a roller coaster for me.  For a while I had to stop reading all the articles online because the conflict and contention coming from both sides just left me feeling sick.  I generally don't read op-eds anymore for that reason.  They tend to fan the flames of the ideological war, leaving supporters even more self-assured and detractors even more disgusted.  That's why I much prefer to have conversations like this, with people like you who can step back from passion and zeal, and let the Spirit guide a more reasonable, compassionate dialogue.

I don't think my gut feelings are the same as yours when it comes to the leadership being wrong on this point.  I fully agree that prophets and apostles are fallible men, and the scriptures are rife with examples.  Joseph Smith was chastised all throughout the Doctrine & Covenants, and there's plenty more that wasn't included.  From Adam to the present they've all been imperfect, even while serving in those prophetic roles.  It fills me with awe and hope to know that the Lord is willing to work with such weak and flawed individuals, but then again, we are all his family.  It's hard to think of people that way if they're not part of our earthly family, but they really are our siblings.  We're really jerks to our brothers and sisters sometimes.  Anyway, you said that you find it hard to believe that God would make some individuals with the tendency toward homosexuality and then deny them the possibility of a monogamous relationship.  I've thought about that too, and it does indeed seem a cruel fate.  There are also many who are unable to marry because they simply aren't attractive enough, whether by looks, personality, or disability.
 
The same question can be asked of people in their situation.  Why would God relegate them to a life of loneliness while so many others are able to enjoy intimate, loving relationships?  In their case, it's not even a matter of societal opposition to their partnerships; they haven't even been able to secure the affections of a partner.  Did God tailor that trial to them individually?  Did God hand pick those who would have to work through homosexual tendencies?  I don't know.  I guess the broader question we might ponder is how much does God tinker with our individual genetics before sending us into the test of life?  Or does he at all?  Are our trials crafted by design?  Are some, but not all?  My inclination is that homosexuality is one of many possible struggles that a human may have to deal with during his or her time on Earth.  It's rough for those who choose to live by the prophets' counsel, but I truly think it will be worth it for them in the end, just as it will be worth it for me to remain faithful to my wife.

 Those are my thoughts anyway, and I certainly don't proclaim them as doctrine.

Perhaps the most moving portion of your response, for me, was your explanation of how and why you remain an active member, and how meaningful your sustaining vote is.  I loved your discussion of personal revelation, and I think it's a vastly under-used tool.  I wish more of us members would take those things seriously.  I know I need to work on that.  I completely echo your sentiments about those who leave the Church.  We are losing some good, strong people who could be such a blessing to the rest of the membership because of their perspective.  I know it can be frustrating and wearisome to work alongside members who maintain conflicting ideas and beliefs on topics as sensitive as this, especially if they are disagreeable in their disagreement.  And at the same time, those who leave are missing out on that same fellowship and community, let alone the blessings that come from covenant keeping.  Your explanation leads me to admire you even more for your willingness to move past your inner battles so you can continue to pitch in to the work of the Lord.  We need you, and I know our ward is better for your diligent service.  And I, for one, appreciate being able to talk with someone about this sort of thing on an intellectual and spiritual level.

Thanks again for taking the time to respond, and feel free to include this in your blog.  See you on Thursday!

X

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Scriptural Gem: The Power of Friends

I know, I know. I've been incredibly remiss in my blogging. I've left a chapter of The Road to Middoni halfway completed. Shameful behavior.

This is likely the busiest I have been in a long, long time, and I apologize for not keeping up with this project. I'm hoping to slowly begin posting more, and to get back in the full swing of things by the beginning of winter. Think of it like a Christmas present!

In the meantime, I thought I'd share something I hadn't noticed before about the intercessory prayer found in John 17.

I'll be honest that I've often read this chapter with my mind glazed-over. The nuanced and convoluted language of the King James translation sends me packing for the easy interpretations of official manuals and sound bite scripture masteries.

But, seeking some peace and focus in my morning, I opened randomly to John. To push past the mind glazing, I read the chapter outloud to myself in my office. And I had the remarkable good fortune to learn about friendship.

The intercessory prayer's chronology is difficult to pin down. John takes us straight from this prayer to Christ's betrayal and arrest, so I've always read it as an intimate glimpse into Gethsemane, a more complex background to the more well-known "let this cup pass, but thy will be done" narrative.

With my self-imposed chronology, I read the chapter looking to gain insight into the Savior's path to Atonement. What ultimately brought him to make the ultimate sacrifice? What drove him to suffer for all humankind?

In verses 16 and 17, Christ talks about his disciples, aware of the difficulties they will face the rest of their lives: "They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth." He pleads with his Father to strengthen and sanctify them. It clear that his love for them is not ordinary. Christ loves everyone, but he has a special sort of love for the men and women who have listened to him, followed him, and tried to build new lives by becoming like him. They have experienced trials together, they have argued together, and they have forgiven each other. They are more than disciples; they are fast friends.

And then, in verse 19, we get this: "And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through the truth." In the moments before his expiatory agony, Christ reveals that, when it comes down to it, he's doing this for them. No doubt his Atonement will have universal impact and bless countless people. I think Christ is quite cognizant of those facts. He likely understood them better at that moment than I do now. But in the end, his lonely walk, his final prayers, his fearful agony are all embraced because he knows he is saving his friends.

This idea inspires and moves me to tears. That a perfect man, a perfect God, could look for and receive strength from the passel of good-natured, humble, sincere, bumbling, prideful, simple, and loyal group of fishermen, publicans, and sinners.

I have always had the strange struggle of feeling much closer to Heavenly Father than I do to Jesus Christ. I'm not sure why. Perhaps the conceptual framework of a father-son relationship and the constant prayers in his direction was easier for me to build upon.

But it's verses like these, verses that show the depth of love and humanity possessed by the Savior, that inspire me to try and follow him. To, perhaps, become one of those friends who brings the Savior joy and comfort. Just like he has always brought such joy and comfort to me.