PRIDE in Utah Interview

On Thursday, September 1st, I was interviewed by PRIDE in Utah's Eric Ethington. For those of you who missed the interview, I've provided it below. 

I've known of Eric and his efforts for some time; and now I know him to be a good man, with a good heart--and one that I am honored to call a friend. He is a professional and asked tough questions, and I'm glad he did. The interview was honest, informative, optimistic, and speaks of good things to come for all of us. Enjoy.  

San Francisco – This past week, I read an article in the Salt Lake Tribune about an openly-gay man in San Francisco who has just been named as a member of the Bishopric in his local Mormon congregation. Needless to say, I immediately tracked him down for an interview.

Most of our readers know that I have a complicated past with the Mormon, or LDS, Church. I was raised as a member in Utah but was thrown from my house when I came out at 17 by an intolerant and bigoted Father who believed that I was an embarrassment because I wasn’t following the Mormon doctrine. I eventually rejoined the Church and went back into the closet (long story) and was married to a woman in the Mormon temple in SLC. Obviously, that didn’t last long. Since then, I have been an outspoken critic of the Mormon Church and their policies and attitudes towards the LGBT community. This does not mean that I am anti-Mormon, I do not wish to see them disbanded nor do I want to see the government ever force them to change. What I want is them to change themselves. Protest after protest, I’ve called for them to change their own attitudes so that no child ever has to go through the trauma and horror that I did just to stay alive.

So when I heard about Mitch Mayne, an openly-gay man who was called to the Bishopric of this local Mormon Ward (aka congregation), I was intrigued. How does someone who’s being open and honest with and about themselves still find happiness being part of a religion who’s doctrine tells you that you cannot be who you are?

I thought about editorializing my interview with Mitch. But the more we talked, the more I’ve decided that I’m just going to give it to you raw, and without any additional commentary.

PRIDE in Utah Interview of Mitch Mayne

Eric: Mitch I very much appreciate you taking the time to speak with me, I have many questions for you and I want to try and understand more about your situation. So question 1: When did you receive your calling as Executive Secretary. And what does that position entail?

Mitch: I officially received the calling during the second week of August. Don Fletcher–now the Bishop–was serving in the San Francisco Stake Presidency. He was called to be the bishop of the Bay Ward, and then he and the stake president called me to serve as Don’s executive secretary. And I wish I had a detailed job description to provide you, it would be helpful to me, as well. I will be the interface between our congregation and Don–so anytime anyone wants to meet with him, I’ll be the point of contact. In our ward, the executive secretary and the ward clerk are viewed as an integral part of the bishopric. And as such, I’ll also continue to participate in ward callings for other service positions, setting those individuals apart, and participate in congregational executive-level decision-making.

Eric: How did you come to belong to the LDS faith? Were you raised as such? Have you always been Mormon?

Mitch: I was baptized when I was eight, but fell away from the church shortly thereafter, due in large part to my parents’ rather acrimonious divorce. I reconverted when I was in my mid 20s, knowing full well I was gay, and knowing I would have to somehow find a way to integrate my faith with my sexual orientation.

Eric: I read that you only received this calling once you and your partner had been separated for a year, did the Church have something to do with your break-up?

Mitch: Out of respect, I’d rather not go into details of the past. My former partner is a man with many amazing and wonderful qualities. I still deeply care for him, and he will always hold a special place in my heart.  Suffice it to say, it ended due to no direct pressure from the church; no one asked me to leave to remain part of the Mormon faith.

Eric: So as an openly gay man who is also an active member of the Mormon faith, how did Prop 8 effect you? How did it make you feel to watch your church be involved the way they were?

Mitch: Prop 8 was probably among the most challenging times in my Mormon faith. I felt first-hand the sorrow this caused. And, I felt it from within my very own spiritual family. Watching my Mormon brothers and sisters advocate for an issue that would keep me from marrying the man I loved tore at my heart. It was difficult to maintain my personal integrity and, at the same time, stay close to the home where I found my Savior.

Eric: Were those feelings aggravated again when the Mormon 2nd-in-command, Boyd K Packer, made his now infamous statements last fall claiming that anyone can change their sexual orientation?

Mitch: What Packer said hurt a lot of people, and yes, I was included in that group. I have a lot of respect for that man, I’ve read a lot of his work–some of his writings and talks are spiritually amazing. I think that maybe made this hurt even more.

Eric: But is it hard to believe in anyone who makes statements like his? Not just from last October, but his earlier writings advocating violence against LGBT people?

Mitch: I think that’s a very fair question. I look at it this way: I can’t very well go around and ask the Mormon community to lend compassion and kindness to the LGBTQ community without granting others that same degree of compassion. We’re all three dimensional mortals, every single one of us. And as such, we each have strengths–and flaws. There is not a human on this Earth that is exempt from that, it’s simply our human state.

Eric: Do you ever find people who feel that they have to end relationships if they wish to be fully embraced by the church. What do you tell people who feel that a life without the love of someone is at odds with the doctrine of the Mormon faith?

Mitch: If I am to follow my Bishop’s example and directions–and I shall do so with absolute pleasure–I welcome them into the congregation, just as they are. That’s the thing that’s really great here–the direction we’re taking. Everyone is welcome, regardless of where they are in their personal lives!

Eric: But what about people who are in relationships with their partners and don’t want to give them up? Doesn’t LDS doctrine say that they cannot be full-members (meaning no temple ordinances or callings)?

Mitch: No, doctrine has not changed. But no one will ask you to give up your partner to attend. That means anyone can come to our congregation and be part of the ward family. There are a lot of things that hold straight people back from getting temple recommends and holding callings as well, and they’ve always been welcome in our flanks. That same welcome is extended to everyone here. Is it a doctrinal change? No. Is it a great and wonderful softening of the perception of all of our Savior’s children as our brothers and sisters? Will it help mend families? Will it help people who want the feeling of being in a community of faith? Absolutely! I met three gay men last week alone who came to church because they were starting to feel welcome. Each of them is in a different spot in terms of how deeply he wants to develop his relationship with the church. And each one is welcome! I got told today of a straight investigator in the Oakland Stake who heard my talk–the gay and lesbian issue was a sticking point for him–and now he feels more comfortable moving into full fellowship.

Eric: You seem to be in a unique position there in San Francisco. Being openly gay, and yet still fully-accepted into the church as long as you do not have a relationship with another man. There are many stories of people however, in other wards across the country who were immediately excommunicated from the Mormon Church when they came out, even if they intended to remain celibate. There are even reports of straight Mormons who were kicked out just because they opposed Prop 8. What is it about your ward that makes it so unique and accepting?

Mitch: I’ve heard these stories as well, some of them first-hand. They also pull at my heart. In my farewell speech to my home ward in Oakland, I shared the story of a man who I called Cliff, who experienced this exact thing. The goal was to help others understand how truly difficult it can be for gay and lesbian Mormons, and the challenges we encounter. And yes, you’re right: I am a blessed man to have what I have, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t hear a story that reminds me that I am. I want to bring that to others. Prop 8 was a divisive time in our history; true, it affected people everywhere, but I think the bay area was hit especially hard. For example, within the ward boundaries of the Bay Ward alone, there are hundreds of endowed, single members on the record books who don’t attend church. Many of these members are our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters. I am being led by a local leadership of kind, wise men–who understand how important this topic is to our local community. I am following their instructions when it comes to opening the doors and reaching out–I am part of a team, not an individual long-distance runner on this one. I think because of their kind hearts, and the recognition that this topic is especially important locally is one thing might make things a little different here. It’s not just me doing this; my leadership wants this as well, and from the feedback I’m getting from the ward membership, they’re elated and stand ready with open arms! It’s a great time to be a Mormon, and I am humbled to be part of this!

Eric: As you know, there are also thousands, if not hundreds of thousands (myself included), of LGBT children who have been thrown from their homes by Mormon parents. Many of them end up homeless or in suicidal situations, and all of them end up feeling scarred physically or mentally. What do you say to those who have been put in those situations?

Mitch: Oh, man…I know so well those stories. Mine wasn’t terribly dissimilar. I think what troubles me the most about these stories is they really seem to be so counter what I understand we want our faith to be about: the family. One of the things I want to focus on here (with the support of my leadership) is working to develop supportive, healthy, nurturing ways that parents and loved ones can help LGBTQ youth. Caitlin Ryan, the Director of Family Acceptance Project, has just done some powerful research and actually has a toolkit for parents of these youth that they can use, and do so in keeping with our Mormon faith. I’ve posted about this in my blog before, and I’m working with Caitlin to speak at a meeting of our local bishopric and stake leadership where we can share that with them–and they, in turn, can share it with parents. Here’s a great quote from one Mormon mother had when she discovered this information: “The Church teaches us that no success can compensate for failure in the home, and when we realized that included our relationship with our gay son, we knew that, with God’s help, we could do whatever was necessary to make our home a safe and loving one.” What an amazing opportunity we have, Eric, to keep what happened to us and so many others from continuing to happen. Our LGBTQ youth–and their families–need our support, our help, and our outreach. We can’t unring the bell on what happened to us; but we can help keep it from happening to others. And to those who’ve experienced that trauma, you, too–and perhaps most especially–are welcome among our flanks.

Eric: Do you yourself support full equal rights for LGBT people, up to and including marriage?

Mitch: I believe every single one of us is equal in the eyes of our Savior, regardless of orientation, ethnicity, gender–or any other marker we use as humans to define differences between ourselves and others. I don’t speak for the church here. But I don’t believe it is ever my job to condemn, criticize, or mock another. My job, as my Father’s son, is to walk beside you as you learn the lessons life is intended to teach you; to celebrate your joys with you, and to lend a hand when you stumble. The true spirit of love we have for one another is kind, patient, and doesn’t demand it’s own way. it doesn’t scold, condemn, or criticize. I am most certainly an imperfect human–but this is the spirit I think our Savior wants us to strive to achieve throughout the human family, and it is the spirit that I endeavor to bring to my entire life–and most certainly my faith.

Eric: That doesn’t really answer the question though. Do you personally support equal rights, not under the LDS church but under civil law, for LGBT people? And for that matter, do you also believe that your (and every other person’s) sexual orientation and gender identity are innate and cannot be changed.

Mitch: Absolutely. As Mitch Mayne, absolutely and without question.

Eric: Glad to hear it. You know, the longer we’ve continued our questions. There’s still something that is sticking in my head. I believe that to be happy in this life, you need to fully embrace yourself for who you are. That includes finding someone you love to spend the rest of your life with. How can one do that and still be a member of the LDS Faith. According to Mormon Doctrine, every member needs to work to be “temple worthy,” and for LGBT people that means not being with the people they love.

Mitch: I understand that question. I live that question, just like you and so many of us. I don’t get the ability to write doctrine, I don’t have that blessing nor that responsibility–it’s a daunting job, and I’m grateful that mantle does not fall to me. I do know, though, that our gospel is very much alive–and as such, will continue to grow and expand. In fact, our 9th article of faith tells us that God will “yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.” Is this something that will fall into the category of more revelation? I don’t know. I’m not blessed with any more psychic abilities than any other average mortal. What I do know is what feels right in my heart. And what we’re hoping to accomplish in the San Francisco Bay Area–and the Bay Ward specifically, feels *right.* Bringing families and those who share our faith a little closer together feels right. Opening the doors and allowing everyone to come in feels right. Building strength in unity and in faith feels right. Is it perfect for everyone? Perhaps not. But it sure feels like the right direction to me. What has worked for me–and again, this is sharing my own personal experience–is staying close to my Savior and striving to do what I understand His will for me to be. I think that’s the best any of us really can do–and if I don’t misunderstand my scriptures entirely, I think that’s all He asks us to do.

Eric: It’s well documented that when equal rights are finally achieved, that has no bearing on what any religion is required to teach or the ordinances they perform. Why do you think it’s so hard for many members of the LDS Church to understand the difference between equal civil rights, and their religion being FORCED to change their doctrine?

Mitch: I can only speculate here, but I think what we’re seeing is a human characteristic, not a Mormon one. I think being a human is an exhilarating and simultaneously scary thing. There are a lot of unknowns. I think we find safety in categorizing and labeling things: good, bad, black, white, gay, straight. Change of any kind requires we think differently, and that’s tough for many of us–and sometimes it’s frightening. The great thing is at least in the San Francisco area, people now have permission to begin to see things a little differently, to think a little differently, to be a little more open. And I think that is a tremendous blessing! God gave us critical thinking skills to use, it’s part of the plan! I think we offend Him when we don’t use them. Here’s a chance to open hearts and minds and understand things in a new way–as a closer human family. That’s a good thing for every single one of us!

Eric: Do you view yourself and your new position as a bridge between the two communities? There’s a long and extremely painful relationship between the LGBTQ community and the Mormon Church. Do you think you can use your position to try to heal the wounds?

Mitch: I sure hope so. I think I have a unique opportunity, Eric. I’m a man with a foot in two worlds that most people don’t think intersect–but they do. There are hundreds of thousands if not millions of LGBTQ Mormons and those who love them. I’m just a single individual–but I am maybe one who is comfortable being more open than many others feel comfortable with. I understand full well the difficulties between the two communities; I have experienced many of those first-hand. But, I also think there is an amazing opportunity here, to stand up as an openly gay man, recognizing that is how my Father made me, and let my personal story speak for many who have felt silenced. And, I think there is even a greater opportunity for me to play a part–however small–in reconciliation between these two groups. What makes this truly astounding is I am following the direction of my Bishop and Stake President: They are the ones who are opening the doors here. How great it is to be part of a team like that!

Eric: You say you’re following the directions from your Bishop and Stake President. How so? What type of outreach have they asked you to attempt?

Mitch: I’ve been pretty heavily involved in a series of outreach programs and events we’ve run in the Oakland Stake with the goal of healing the wounds from Prop 8. Those have been very well received. And while we’re still in the formative stages of figuring out specifically what we’re going to do on this side of the bay, I do want to replicate the success we’ve had in the Oakland Stake.  I think this quote from my Bishop Don Fletcher states our end goal pretty clearly:  “I want to reach out to gays and let them know that they are welcome in the ward, wherever they’re at,” Fletcher said. “If they are, like Mitch, living the commandments, they’ll be put to work. But everyone can get spiritual recharging and feel the savior’s love by worshiping with us.” To me, that means the doors are open!

Eric: Any final thoughts?

Mitch: Ha! That’s a dangerous question, my friend! Millions of final thoughts! But I’ll limit it to this: I know who I am. I know I am my Father’s son, and I am just as He made me. And I know he wants me to be here doing this right now, in the company of a ward and stake leadership that I am honored to serve with. He loves each of us for exactly where we are, and exactly who we are. I’ve said this to a few friends, but think it bears repeating here. It takes a strong spirit to be gay in this world; it takes a remarkable one to be a gay Mormon. To my brothers and sisters out there, don’t ever doubt that you are, in fact, remarkable.

This was no small interview for me, it dug into some very personal and painful memories that I’ve tried to forget. I can’t say that I agree with everything that Mitch says and believes, but I think it reflects change, change in the Mormon Church. And although it’s moving ever-so-slowly (and you know how glacial-paces thrill me), any change is positive.

I don’t know if the Mormon Church will ever change their doctrine, but I think that it’s individuals like Mitch Mayne who make those small differences within their own circles – attitudes begin to soften, hearts open, and perhaps someday we can hold up these Mormon families as models of how good parents should treat their LGBT children.

Embarking on a new journey: My farewell remarks to my home ward

On Sunday, August 21st, 2011, I bid my home ward (Oakland First Ward) of more than a decade a bittersweet farewell. Below are my remarks.

It is difficult to leave behind so many experiences, but even more difficult to say "so long" to friends who have grown as close to me as family. Yet, I do so with an eye toward the next chapter in my journey as my Father's son.

Enjoy.

Good morning, brothers and sisters.

It is genuinely, with a good deal of mixed emotion that I stand before you today. I’m sad, quite frankly, in many ways. For more than a decade, this ward has been my home. I’ve served in callings here and grown to love this place and each of you, far beyond my expectations. On the other hand, I’m embarking on the next step of my journey as my Father’s Son, and I know He has work for me on the other side of the bay. As tough as it is to leave you, I will heed that call.

In 2009, President Criddle of the Oakland Stake launched a series of 5th Sunday meetings throughout the stake. The aim? Help unite our church family once again after the difficulties we faced personally and faith-wise after Proposition 8. In the Oakland session, Judy Finch of the Oakland First Ward, read a short writing by an anonymous member of our ward—a gay member. The author talked about the pains, sorrows, spiritual discord, but ultimately the joy that he felt as a fellow among our flanks.

What Judy read that day reflected the righteous desires of the author’s heart. And, I believe, they are desires that each and every one of us long for, independent of orientation, gender, ethnicity, or any other “marker” that we use to define differences between ourselves and others. They are, I believe, universal desires felt by each of us within the human family.

The author’s words:  

"I am a gay Latter-day Saint.

I don’t want pity. To pity me is to make me a victim. I want understanding. To understand me, is to love me as an equal.

I don’t want tolerance. If I am tolerated, I am disliked or feared in some way. I want respect as a fellow striving child of God—an equal in His eyes.

I don’t want acceptance. To accept me is to graciously grant me the favor of your company. To accept me is to marginalize me with the assumption that I am less than you. I am your peer. I am neither above you nor below you.

I don’t want judgment. My path may be different than yours, but it is a plan built for me by a power greater than any of us. To judge me is to judge the designer of that path.

On a cosmetic level, we are very different, you and I. You have spouses, or the opportunity for spouses, I do not. You have children, or the opportunity for children, I do not. You are attracted to those of the opposite gender, I am attracted to those of my same gender.

What I want most of all is for you to look past the superficial and the cosmetic. I want you to look at what makes us the same: the simple fact that we are all children of our Heavenly Father, and we are striving day to day to understand how to best do His will, and how to return to Him. It is that simple sameness, brothers and sisters, that weighs more than all the differences in His universe."

I think what the author captures here is the idea that life is a journey, with our fellows as peers, each of us pressing onward on our prescribed paths, to learn the lessons that life is intended to teach us. None of us is ahead of the other, so there is no need for envy. None of us is behind another, so there is no need for judgment and scorn. True, each path is unique to every traveler—some may appear easier than others, and others, conversely, seem more arduous and difficult. Regardless, each path is geared to teach each of us what we individually need to know to come to rely upon our Savior, and eventually, return to our Father.

Brothers and sisters, I am the author of those words. I am an openly gay Latter-day Saint.

It’s a tough charge to come out openly as a gay Mormon, on the pulpit, in front of my entire ward family. But, I think it is important that I do so, especially now.

I was under the assumption that pretty much everyone in this ward knew I was gay—that is, until I was gently reminded by more than a few people that was not the case. In either case, it has pretty exciting potential for the next part of my adventure in our faith, and I want to share that with you today.

Last Saturday, I was confirmed as a member of the Bishopric as the executive secretary in the San Francisco Stake Bay Ward. And while that’s not a big accomplishment in and of itself, it is a remarkable accomplishment for the simple fact that maybe for the first time, a man was called to a priesthood leadership position not in spite of the fact that he is gay, but partly because he is gay.

San Francisco is perhaps a bit of a microcosm of gay culture and population, and within the ward districts there are a disproportionate amount of single, endowed, individuals who do not attend church. Many of them honorably served missions. Their families are members. Many of these members identify as gay or lesbian, and as such struggle to find their place within our faith.

One of the charges that I will take on, is to help reach out to these members. In addition to the other duties of my calling, I want to help these brothers and sisters understand that there is a home for them within our flanks, if they so choose.

And, given that I am a member of the Bishopric, my example demonstrates to them that not only do they have a home here, but that they have a path.

Reaching out to those members who choose not to associate with us every week is not just a responsibility for those in a leadership capacity. It’s a role shared by each and every one of us, regardless of our calling within the church—or none at all.

I genuinely can’t think of an activity that has as broad a spectrum of mutual benefits as reactivating members of our faith. For our ward, there is an influx of new energy, spirit, and talent. For us as individuals, we gain new friends and new fellows on our spiritual path, and we have the opportunity to broaden our own spiritual horizons through the testimony of others. For those who return, there is often renewed spiritual growth. I’m hard pressed to think of a downside of reactivation for anyone involved.

I want to share the story of one of my gay fellows—a man we’ll call Cliff. Cliff loved being Mormon. He was active within his ward, and a member in good standing. He taught Sunday School, and was a member of his ward choir.

A few years ago, Cliff made the decision to be honest about his sexual orientation with his bishop and stake president. When he shared this information—and even though he was single and living within the guidelines of the gospel—Cliff was removed from his calling. He was subject to a disciplinary trial, and it was determined that Cliff held ‘apostate views,’ and he was soon disfellowshipped, and eventually fell away from the church entirely.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the deeper effect felt by Cliff was the loss of his ward family. He was no longer invited over to friends’ homes. He was no longer included in personal activities with his ward associates. Cliff not only lost his church membership, but he also lost a critical cornerstone to his identity—his Mormon family.

Here is a comment that was shared with me about Cliff’s situation: "The Amish have an actual policy about shunning, which they refer to as ‘Meidung’ (the German word for avoidance), but a person leaving the Mormons is no less rejected than they would be if they left the Amish."

And while this story makes me deeply sad for Cliff, it’s even more distressing when I think about the loss of his testimony to the collective strength of his ward. His fellows lost a chance to learn and grow from the testimony of someone who displayed a deep, abiding faith to stay within the confines of the church even though there was no prescribed path for him. And, I think, it is often from the testimony of others that our own is nurtured.

In fact, let’s think about that for a moment. I know from personal experience when I hear stories from my fellow Mormons about their own struggles in life—whether those be with addiction issues, infidelity, word of wisdom issues—more often than not, my own testimony and commitment to my faith is strengthened. And since I seem to be opening the curtain into who I really am today, I’ll share something else with you: Those stories of struggle, triumph, and struggle again are the ones I love the best. There’s something so uniquely powerful in them, and seldom do I get the chance to see the hand of my Savior in the lives of others than through the challenges and trials of my fellows. Those are the testimonies that keep me coming back every Sunday, for they feed my own. So yes, indeed my heart does groan when I think about what Cliff suffered. But I’m even more sorrowful about the opportunities for spiritual growth that others will miss as a result of what Cliff experienced.

In the past few years, I have become intimately familiar with the stories of those within the gay Mormon community. I am sorry to say that Cliff’s experiences are not unique, and this is, really, more the norm than the exception.

In addition to my sorrow for Cliff and others within his circle, stories like these make me so deeply grateful for my own recent experiences within the church—and specifically, within this ward. And I can’t, in clean conscience, share Cliff’s story without sharing some positive experiences as well.

Last November, I was standing in the chapel foyer on my way to teach my Sunday School class. I ran into Harry Johnson, who at the time was the Second Counselor in our Bishopric.

Harry greeted me with his usual warm smile, and his eyes had an unusual sparkle that morning, and his handshake was even more vigorous and enthusiastic than normal. “Mitch! How good it is to see you!” I couldn’t help but return that kind of smile and enthusiasm, and responded with “Harry, it’s great to see you, too.”

“Do you have a moment to chat?” he asked. “Of course,” I responded, “as long as you’re not going to ask me to teach another class,” I said in jest. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well,” he said in a more solemn tone, “I’d like to speak to you outside.”

We walked onto the flagstone patio outside the chapel foyer together. Once outside, I turned again to look at him, and noticed that behind his glasses, his eyes had begun to fill with tears.

“I’ve just learned the truth about who you are,” he said, and his voice cracked with emotion. I couldn’t help but smile a bit when he spoke—knowing exactly what he meant—that I am a gay Mormon. “I want to let you know that I love you,” he continued. “I am so proud that you come here week after week and fulfill your callings in good cheer. It makes no difference to me whether or not you are gay--I want you here, and I want you to know that I love you for who you are.”

By this point, we were both tearful. I said nothing at first, and even with my hands full of materials for my Sunday School class, threw my arms around him and gave him a big, heartfelt hug. He returned my hug with the same enthusiasm with which he had originally approached me.

Here was Harry, a white, heterosexual and multi-generational Mormon, from a small town in Idaho—offering me his unconditional support and love. In that moment I was reminded again that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and exactly where my Father in Heaven wants me to be. I was reminded that I belong, I have something important to contribute to this church, and I that I am loved.

How grateful I am that Harry was humble enough to be an instrument in the hands of my Father, to deliver the message that I am on the right track. We spoke for a few moments more, and while it never became clear how Harry knew—some of my published writing, word of mouth—it matters not. What does matter is that he took the time to reach out and let me know how much he valued me—not for who he thought I was, but for who I actually am.

I ended the conversation by thanking him, and asked him as he considers who I “really am,” to be careful to never consider me a victim—because I am not. I am exactly as my Father in Heaven made me, and exactly where he wants me to be.

Rather, I asked him to consider me a unique and valuable asset available to him in his leadership role within the Bishopric—because that is what I am: An ordinary man, blessed to be in an extraordinary circumstance. And, a man who is willing to bring that experience to bear to help others in my situation as they strive to figure out their place within the gospel, and within the Mormon Church.

I think we could all do with a few more Harry Johnson’s in our wards. I believe that as children of our Father, and righteous disciples of our Savior, that our cry to our fellows should be this:

"We would love to see you in church, no matter what the current condition of your life. If worshiping with us can help you in any way, please come. We will ignore the jacket that smells of smoke, if only it contains a heart that wants to be with us. Of course we hope that, IF there are changes that you need to make, you will make them. But if you can't or won't, please come back each week and bless us with your presence."

In fact, Elder Maxwell, in a 1980 talk in General Conference, noted pointedly that those who come back to us should "expect instant community but not instant sainthood." Our job is to provide that community, and to provide the unconditional acceptance such a community requires. Doctrine and Covenants 81:5 asks us to succor the weak, not hinder them.

If what we truly want is for people to join with us in fellowship and worship, we would do well to remember that there is no recommend interview for sitting in these pews, and no test to take to be the recipient of our love and concern.

As always, our Savior provided perhaps the best example of this kind of unconditional love.

When Christ was on an urgent rescue mission for the daughter of one of the Jewish synagogue leaders, he was followed by a large crowd of people. Among the throngs of individuals, there was a "certain woman," who pressed through the crowd to touch His robe in an act of faith--that by doing so, she might be healed. We are told that for twelve years she suffered a vaginal flow of blood, an almost constant hemorrhage. But worse than her physical illness was the suffering she had to endure at the hands of her brothers and sisters--because of mental and emotional shame inflicted upon her by her fellows.

Like so many, her desire was to be near the Savior, to look into His eyes, to feel His love for her. But this she could not do, because according to Jewish law, she was unclean. She, like so many of of our gay Mormons, was judged unfit to mingle with the community, unfit to worship in the temple. She was an outcast--scorned, and unclean.

Yet, like to many times in His mortal ministry, Christ stopped and healed this woman. True, the physical healing must have lifted a tremendous burden. But the most important aspect of His kindness was healing her aching and broken spirit. For the rest of her life she would know that Christ knew her, that he noticed her, and that he accepted her. What a profound demonstration of our Savior's love, mercy, and kindness. What a tremendous example of reaching out to someone in need, regardless of consequence.

Being born gay is not a plague; but what many of us suffer at the hands of others, is. What an amazing invitation for us within the Mormon Church to reach out to others and emulate our Savior—for as Mormons, there can be no more worthwhile pursuit than becoming like our Savior. And what an equally moving cry for those of other faiths, or none at all—for there is little more virtuous a pursuit than striving for what is right. 

When we listen to the sense of responsibility that is whispered to us by our own conscience, and do what is right, we move beyond our individual problems and give unconditionally. Through our words and actions we have the opportunity to lighten the burdens of others, to speak hope to the spirits of those who are heavy laden, and change hearts—and lives.

There is wisdom in knowing what is right; there is virtue in doing it.

Brothers and sisters, it is my prayer that I will serve my new calling with humility and with the close guidance and counsel of my Savior. I will seek to be an instrument of virtue, peace, and of my Savior’s unconditional love. I will act on my conscience, speak for what I know to be right, and welcome any and all who wish to join our flanks. For I know that there is no better gift I can give the world—or myself. It is also my prayer that you will join me.

Last, I wish to close with an email I got from another of my fellow gay Mormons upon hearing the news that I had been called to the Bishopric.

When you are sustained, I hope you will know that there are 141,314 LGBTQ Mormons who are also sustaining you in their hearts throughout the world. Add to that their families, friends, and supporters, and that number would likely be well over 300,000. That's more than twelve LDS Conference Centers full of gay Mormons and those who love them, sustaining you in your new calling.

This estimate is based on a conservative LGBTQ rate of just 1% of the church's claim of 14,131,167 members in 2010, and the capacity of the LDS Conference Center at 21,000.

In addition, there are many culturally gay Mormons who have resigned or who have been excommunicated will be supportive of you as well. And then there are those on the other side of the veil who have not had the opportunities that you now have in front of you.

They will also raise their hands to sustain you, Mitch.

I wish to leave you with my testimony of the love our Savior has for each of us. I have felt it first hand in my life, and in my better moments, I see His hand in almost every moment of my day. He wants to be near to us. He wants to guide us. He wants to help us. Then, when that is accomplished, he wants us to help one another.

Our Savior loves us for exactly where we are, and for exactly who we are.

I say these things in the name of my Lord, my Savior, and my friend, Jesus Christ, Amen.

Creating Healthy LGBT (Mormon) Youth: The Family Acceptance Project

A few weeks ago, I met Caitlin Ryan, Director of The Family Acceptance Project. Because of my own work within the Mormon community to build the bridge between the LGBT and the LDS communities, I was keenly interested knowing more about her research and work.

I was—in a word—amazed.

Caitlin and her colleagues have proven what many of us as gay Mormons already know: the kind of support (or lack thereof) we experience from our families and church communities has long-term and resounding consequences for our physical and emotional health.

An action plan for parents and church leaders

In this first-of-a-kind study, The Family Acceptance Project not only empirically links unsupportive environments with LGBT suicide, depression, drug/alcohol abuse, and risk for HIV infection—but they also explain to parents and communities actions they can take to reduce these risks—even if they disagree with being gay or transgender. 

Download "Supportive Families, Healthy Children" today.   

“Many parents believe that the best way to help their gay children thrive…is to help them fit in with their heterosexual (Mormon) peers. Because parents see these behaviors as loving or caring for their gay children, they’re often shocked to learn that gay children experience these behaviors as rejection. Young people feel that by rejecting (or trying to alter) their gay identity—a very core part of who they are—their parents are rejecting all of who they are.”

This is not simply another academic research study: it’s a pragmatic, useful tool kit for parents and communities of our LGBT youth, independent of faith. It crosses socio-economic and religious boundaries, and is a real-world means to help create an environment that nurtures positive, healthy LGBT youth to adulthood. 

How I’ll work with Caitlin and The Family Acceptance Project

In the following months, it is my goal to leverage Caitlin’s research as part of the continuing work with the LDS Church.  Hearts inside the church have begun to soften on this topic, and many inside the Mormon community stand ready and eager to learn more. Our next logical step after helping achieve awareness within the flanks of the church, is inspiring them to action. Caitlin’s work provides an approach to do so in a way that honors one of the core tenets of the Mormon faith: commitment to our families first.

One Mormon mother said it best: “The Church teaches us that no success can compensate for failure in the home, and when we realized that included our relationship with our gay son, we knew that, with God’s help, we could do whatever was necessary to make our home a safe and loving one.”

What you can do now

Download a copy of "Supportive Families, Healthy Children" today.

·        If you’re a gay Mormon, share this with your parents and your family, regardless of your age. Changed attitudes and healthier relationships can begin now.

·        If you’re a straight ally, internalize this material and bring what you know to bear in your conversations with those you meet—both in and outside the church. You can help increase awareness and affect change.

·        If you’re an LDS church leader, use this information to guide conversations with LGBT youth and their parents in a helpful, loving, Christ-like manner that fosters a nurturing environment for everyone.

·        If you’re a parent, use this information to help shape your child’s future and provide a loving, healthy home for your son or daughter.

·        Regardless of your individual role, watch the documentary “AlwaysMy Son.” This short film tells a powerful tale of how one family overcame old attitudes and misperceptions to build an inspiring relationship with their gay son.

For more information about The Family Acceptance Project

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The nature of forgiveness

When I was young, I begged my Mom for a pet hamster. Reluctantly, she gave in, and soon on my dresser at home was a modest metal cage lined with sawdust chips, and inside was my furry little companion.

The first night I brought him home I had been cautioned not to take him out of his cage—the excitement of the relocation, I’d been told, could cause him to be a bit more aggressive than normal and I may end up getting bitten. Being a typical boy, I didn’t do particularly well when it came to heeding advice. I sat and stared inside the cage for several hours, mesmerized by this little whiskered thing that scurried from side to side, excitedly investigating his new home and finding something curious in every corner, regardless of how many times he had visited it already.

Eventually, my curiosity got the best of me. I reached in and picked up my new hamster—longing to feel the softness of his fur and hold his little face next to mine.

And then, of course, it happened.

Right when I picked him up, he bit my finger. Alarmed and hurt, I let go of him and withdrew my hand in a flash. The bite was sharp and painful and drew blood almost immediately. I ran to the bathroom and wrapped my finger in a tissue (not daring tell my Mom I’d disobeyed), and returned to sit in front of the cage.

I sat and watched him continue to bustle from side to side—but now, instead of feeling child-like curiosity, I was full of anger, pain, and resentment. Being a tender-hearted boy and an ardent lover of animals even then, though, it was clear I wouldn’t stay angry for long. I remembered the warning—that he would be overly excited with the move—and my heart softened. And then, as if he’d read my mind, he stood on his rear haunches, his front paws bent in front of him like little hands, and looked at me while his whiskers twitched from side to side. My heart melted completely, and in that moment I forgave him. But despite forgiving him in my heart, the bite on my finger remained--stinging, bloody, and painful.

I was reminded of this story when I was preparing a recent lesson for my Sunday School class on the nature of forgiveness. Is it possible, I wondered, to genuinely forgive someone for the hurt they have caused you, yet still feel the pain of their offense?

There are times, as we navigate our course in life, where our paths will cross with those who will hurt us—sometimes they do so inadvertently, with good intent, doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. Other times, though, some will seek to do us deliberate harm, inflicting pain upon us through calculated choices of words, deeds, or direct actions.

When we’re hurt as an adult, our wounds appear so much more complicated than a simple bite on the finger—like the one I suffered from my hamster. This is particularly true when it seems the choice to hurt us is deliberate.

Throughout my path in life—and especially growing up as a gay Mormon—I have encountered both types of people; those who have harmed me unintentionally, and those who have done so deliberately. But the lesson I have come to realize is regardless of the intent of the person who has wounded us, the choice is still ours as to whether or not (and how genuinely) we forgive.

Indeed, we may still feel the pain from their actions, even when we’ve chosen to forgive in our hearts—some wounds simply cut more deeply than others. The bite I suffered from my hamster ultimately took weeks to heal—but heal it did, and the healing process was one that I could not force.

So it is when we suffer deep spiritual wounds. We can forgive in sincerity of heart, but we must also recognize that we can’t force the healing process. That process ultimately belongs to our Savior—once we have done our part by forgiving those who harm us, and placing our pain into His hands.

There are those among us who have adopted the view that forgiveness is a power we have over others—enabling us to demonstrate our own superiority by rising above the offense and magnanimously bestowing our grace and forgiveness to the offender.

But herein lies the danger with this philosophy: It overlooks the simple truth that we are all on equal footing with every other member of our human family. True, some make choices that others would not, but we all do good and righteous acts at times—and at other times, we may offend and hurt. Worse, when we adopt the attitude that forgiveness is power, we tell ourselves and the world around us that we are victims—and thus, we remain victims.

I believe our souls are like the wet sand along the ocean shoreline—soft, pliable, impressionable. When someone walks along the shore, they leave an impression near the water even after their foot has been lifted again to take the next step. Likewise, when we cross paths with those who harm us, their actions leave impressions upon our soul, often long after we’ve granted forgiveness to them in our hearts. But like those same footprints along the shore, over time, the impressions are washed away by the waves of our Savior’s compassion, and once again the surface is smooth and free from scars.

 I may never know the circumstances that motivate or cause someone to hurt me—and I don’t really need to. But when I hold on to pain, blame, and resentment, I occupy my soul with bitterness and move myself away from becoming who I truly want to be. Focusing on my part—forgiving in my heart—and then placing the pain into the hands of my Savior, allows me to nurture myself and those around me in a compassionate, kind, and loving way.

And, ultimately, it is the only thing that allows me to heal.

Healing the wounds from Prop 8: My remarks from Sunstone West Symposium

A few weeks back, I spoke as part of the closing plenary session at the Sunstone West Symposium in Northern California.

It was a moving experience—both to be able to speak openly and honestly about my challenges and triumphs as a gay Mormon, and to hear the heartbreak and victory of others.

Our focus was not only to share our stories, but also to talk about what we’ve done—in the Mormon community and beyond—to heal from the wounds caused by Proposition 8 and this divisive chapter that pitted politics and religion against one another.

I focused specifically on many of the Mormon affiliated LGBT events we’ve accomplished in the Bay Area, but also spoke about the need for our straight allies to continue to be active voices and vigilant advocates. For, if change is to occur, we must have people pushing from the inside as well as those pulling from the outside.

Each day, I'm presented with new opportunities to make the path easier for others--some small and seemingly insignificant, and still others result in great strides forward. Every door that opens reaffirms my conviction that there is a power behind this undertaking much larger than my own feeble capabilities.

It's such an amazing, deeply satisfying level of change that's coming to pass. To witness it alone would be remarkable. To feel I have a part in it, however small or large, genuinely humbles my soul. I am a blessed man, indeed.

Click here to listen to my remarks. 

The importance of straight allies

As I’ve become more vocal about being a gay Mormon—both in and outside the church—I’ve had the opportunity to meet some very remarkable people, some of whom quite clearly fall into the category of “straight allies.” Some have purposefully become an ally; others have simply stumbled there through circumstance. Just the same, the common bond that unites them is a deep and passionate desire to follow their hearts and do what is right. 

They are my heroes: dedicated not so much to a cause, but to their own conscience. And through this dedication, lift the often heavy mantle carried by the LGBT community, regardless of faith.

I dedicate this article to them.

Rey is not your usual suspect when it comes to straight allies. Married to his wife Christine for almost 21 years, the father of three boys, an athlete, and a veteran—on paper, he’s almost the kind of person we’d expect to hold a decisively more conservative view. Yet, I’ve been repeatedly humbled as I’ve watched him champion equality through his support of gay marriage the repeal of DADT. He speaks out openly and with courage—even in the face of opposition.

Likewise, Jackie is an equally atypical ally. Jackie is the mother of 4 boys, a wife of almost 10 years, and an active Mormon who serves as a scout leader in the suburbs of Dallas. Recently, Jackie and her husband were drawn into a potentially violent situation when they stood up for the rights and dignity of a gay man. Many would have turned and looked the other way. But Jackie and her husband, driven by the strength that comes from doing what is right, stood their ground.

What makes Rey and Jackie—and other straight allies—unique, is they have cultivated the view (knowingly or unknowingly) that we are all children of our Father, and as such, are equals in His eyes. They don’t ascribe to the concept that gays and lesbians are the other—or any notion that there is anything that separates us as a human family. They do, in fact, view everyone as equals—and more importantly, feel that in their hearts and express it in their actions. They recognize that despite our external differences, our sameness as brothers and sisters unites all of us—and the strength of that commonality weighs more than any individual difference.

I am proud to know them both, and the other many straight allies whom I’ve come to appreciate and respect. And, I think their examples are powerful ones and help underscore the critical role straight allies have in the quest to soften the hearts of others—Mormon and otherwise.

Within the Mormon Church, straight allies are in a unique position to approach church leadership in a way that I, as an openly gay Mormon, am not. They have the added credibility of not being seen as someone with an agenda other than to do what is right. As a straight ally, you have the ability to speak on our behalf and deliver a message as someone who is not viewed as the other—and that will lend you a power and strength beyond what I, or any gay member, could have.

And deliver that message, you must. For if change is to occur, it has to have people pushing from the inside, as well as those pulling from the outside.

As with any challenge, there is also a hidden opportunity for our straight allies—regardless of faith. As a straight ally, you have the chance to be truly Christ-like. In fact, if we think about our Savior’s mortal ministry, it was a ministry largely centered on people society had cast out—that society viewed as the other.

When Christ was on an urgent rescue mission for the daughter of one of the Jewish leaders of the synagogues, there was a woman among the throngs of people that followed him, who reached out to touch his robe in an act of faith—that by doing this, she would be healed. For twelve years she had suffered a vaginal flow of blood, an almost constant hemorrhage. But worse than the physical illness was the suffering she had to endure at the hands of her brothers and sisters in the community—because of the plague of mental and emotional shame inflicted upon her.

She wanted to be near the Savior, to look into His face, to feel of His love. But this she could not do, because according to Jewish law, she was unclean. She, like many gay Mormons, was judged unfit to mingle with the community, unfit to worship in the temple. She was scorned as an outcast—worthless and unclean.

She, too, was the other.

Yet, like so many times in his mortal ministry, Christ stopped and healed the woman of this terrible burden. But the most important aspect of His kindness was the healing of her lonely and aching spirit. What a humble honor it would be for the rest of her life to know that Christ knew her, that Christ noticed her, and that Christ accepted her. What a profound demonstration of our Savior’s love, mercy and kindness.  What a tremendous example of reaching out to the other—regardless of consequence.

Being born gay is not a plague; but what many of us suffer at the hands of others is. What an amazing invitation this story is to our straight allies to help their gay brothers and sisters achieve equality in the eyes of all.

What an exciting call to arms for our straight allies within the Mormon Church—for as Mormons, there can be no more worthwhile pursuit than becoming like our Savior. And what an equally moving cry for those of other faiths, or none at all—for there is little more virtuous a pursuit than striving for what is right. 

When we listen to the sense of responsibility that is whispered to us by our own conscience, and speak out for what is right, we move beyond our individual problems and give unconditionally. Independent of our faith, through our words and actions we have the opportunity to lighten the burdens of others, to speak hope to the spirits of those who are heavy laden, and change hearts—and lives.

There is wisdom in knowing what is right; there is virtue in doing it.

Today, I will seek to be an instrument of virtue and peace. I will act on my conscience and speak for what I know to be right. For I know that there is no better gift I can give the world—or myself.

Will you speak for what is right today?

Sunstone West Symposium 2011

On March 19^th, I’ll speak as part of the closing plenary panel at Sunstone West Symposium in Cupertino, California, sponsored by the Sunstone Education Foundation. The panel itself will focus on the aftermath of Proposition 8—and more specifically, on what efforts have been undertaken by individuals of both the Mormon faith and others, to help mend the damage and real human cost of this divisive phase in our history.

Please join me. You can find out more about the Symposium and register here.

My remarks will not seek to disparage the Mormon Church, nor will they seek to disparage the gay community—both have been done, and both accomplish nothing other than making deeper the divide between these two worlds. I will, however, speak openly about my feelings about the Mormon Church’s involvement in Proposition 8—both as a gay Mormon specifically, and as a Mormon in general.

That said, the crux of my focus will be on local Mormon leadership which has sponsored and been involved in multiple LGBT events since 2009. And, the more important issue of the spirit in which my local leadership approaches the issue of homosexuality.

Never, at any time, have I been pitied. Never have I been viewed as suffering, damaged, or afflicted. Instead, I have been blessed to be surrounded by a Mormon community that understands me as their equal—a man with a path somewhat different than their own, but a path designed for me by our Father, just as theirs is. And as such, a path that is respected and honored.

There is much, I believe, to be learned from both my church leadership and my individual experience. And while the jumping off point might be political, the emphasis will be on the spiritual. My focus will be on the compassion, love, understanding and equality granted to me by my Mormon leadership and fellows.

It is my hope that by giving voice to my experience, recognizing my leadership and Mormon fellows, and talking specifically about some of the LGBT events we’ve accomplished, that other communities will follow suit—irrespective of faith.

There has been a remarkable amount of change accomplished in a very short time. And yet, there is much left to accomplish. To play a part in this transformation—however large or small that part may be—is a humbling, soul-stretching honor.

I am both grateful, and blessed.

About the Sunstone Education Foundation

The Sunstone Education Foundation seeks to frankly explore and examine topics of faith as they relate to the complexities of today’s world. While a completely independent organization from the Mormon Church, there is an emphasis on intellectual rigor on LDS theology and doctrine. In their own words: Through its many forums, Sunstone serve…Latter-day Saints and many others for whom life and faith is a wonderful but unique adventure. Sunstone brings together traditional and non-traditional Latter-day Saints, promoting an atmosphere that values faith, intellectual and experiential integrity.