Love and the Christian imagination

Last month, Affirmation (LGBT Mormons and Mormon-affiliated individuals) held its annual conference in Seattle. As part of the conference, Bob Rees delivered the keynote I share with you here (with his permission). In this talk, Bob describes his view of a failure within our faith community to genuinely understand our LGBT brothers and sisters, and instead have chosen to view them as ‘the other.’

Bob is a long-time champion of LGBT inclusion in the LDS community, a former Mormon Bishop, and has worked for decades to bring these two worlds closer together. I hope you find as much spiritual enrichment in his talk as I did—it’s clear this is a man who loves his fellows, and loves his Savior.

You can also view a videoof his remarks here.

Enjoy.

Love and the Christian imagination

Robert A. Rees, Ph.D.

(Keynote Devotional, Affirmation National Conference

Seattle, Washington, 21 October 2012)

Part of what it means to be a Christian is that through the grace of Christ we have the capacity to imagine what it is like to suffer as another person suffers. It is impossible to do this if we have anger, hated or revulsion for the other. Such imaginative projection is possible only within the context of love. Thus, those who revile and persecute homosexuals, who treat them as if they are flawed or have some kind of sinister agenda, cannot possibly take on their suffering, cannot possibly hope to feel what they feel, but those whose compassion is inspired by Christ, can feel, at least to some degree, what it must be like to be anathema to society. We can imagine what it must feel like to be taught to hate our own bodies, to be condemned for feeling what we naturally feel, to be denied normal fellowship within Christ’s kingdom, and to want to blot out our deep soul suffering through suicide.

Reviewing the sad history of homosexuality among the Mormons, I conclude that where we are today as a Church and as a people, though in many ways advanced from where we have been, can best be described as a failure—a failure of faith, a failure of courage, a failure of imagination, and most of all a failure of love.

I want to talk about two aspects of that failure today—the failure of imagination and the failure of love. I don’t think one can have a truly mature faith that isn’t to some degree graced by imagination. We don’t often speak of imagination and Christ in the same breath, but I read the gospels as the product of a great and fecund imagination. It isn’t just the inventive language, the subtle irony and humor, and the fresh narratives that flowed from his expansive heart and mind that make Jesus of Nazareth such great imaginer, but especially his capacity to imagine each of us caught in the snares of sin, lost in the tangled wood of mortality, each uniquely in need of love, mercy and grace. Beyond this was his god-like capacity to imagine each of us as glorified beings, each of our futures a reflection of his present. Only such an imagination, I am convinced, could have emboldened him to descend into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and ascend to Calvary the following Friday.

If we share some of Christ’s imaginative gifts, as I believe we all have the capacity to do when we take on us his name, then we can use such gifts to expand his work in the world. We can imagine not only that, but how, we can be better disciples than we are and the Church a better institution than it is. The Church I imagine, like Joseph Smith’s view of God, can be “more liberal in [its] views and more boundless in [its] mercies than we are ready to believe.”

The way in which I believe we have failed you our LGBT brothers and sisters is that we have not used our Christian imagination to try and understand your experience or to understand our stewardship in relation to you. Instead of seeing you as Latter-day Saints who have made heroic efforts to conform to Church requirements, we have instead characterized you as rebellious and unrepentant.

Instead of seeing you as exercising faith in promises made by Church leaders and therapists that if you were only sufficiently faithful, you could change your core identity, we have tended to see you as willfully disobedient and unfaithful. 

Instead of honoring the often heroic efforts you have made to prove to God and the Church that you were worthy of such a miraculous promise of change, we have accused you of not being sufficiently righteous.

Instead of applauding you for spending years and in some instances decades in therapy trying to deal with your depression, despair, and existential angst over your identity, we have accused you of not being sufficiently valiant.

Instead of seeing you as people who have made amazing sacrifices to fit in with your family, friends and congregations, we have stereotyped you as lustful, narcissistic Sybarites bent on indulging in and celebrating a “life style” that we have labeled outrageous, deviant, and predatory.

Instead of seeing you as desiring the Mormon ideal of fidelity in marriage, we have characterized you as desiring something unnatural and uncivilized. 

In short, instead of seeing you as fully human, we have tended to see you as alien and other.

We have failed to imagine what it must have been like for you as children or adolescents when you first recognized that you were different from your peers and the societal norm you were expected to conform to and how frightened you were of telling anyone about your feelings. According to the recent survey of 1,600 Latter-day Saint homosexuals conducted by Dr. William Bradshaw and his colleagues, on average, participants report a ten-year gap between the time they first realized their romantic or erotic attraction to those of the same sex (around age 12) and their first disclosure of this to another person (around age 22). We have failed to imagine the exquisite fear and loneliness you must have experienced during that long, lonely decade—or how painful it was when you did finally muster the courage to tell someone, only to discover that they rejected you, driving you deeper into your loneliness, despair and alienation. 

Nowhere has our imagination failed us more than in our refusal to place ourselves in your lives, in your hearts, your minds, and your bodies, to imagine how we would feel and act if we were asked to do what we have asked you to do—forego all romantic love, intimate affection, erotic expression, marital companionship and parent-child relationships for the duration of your mortal lives. Failing to consider the complexity of same-sex orientation and identity, we have encouraged (and even pressured) some of you to bind yourself to another person for whom you have no such desires or hope of any. We have also failed to imagine how it must be for you to suffer opprobrium, denigration of character, and alienation from the families, friends and congregations you most want to be a part of. We have failed to imagine how you feel on Sunday mornings when you want to be worshiping with your fellow saints and singing the songs of Zion. 

Finally, we have failed to imagine the despair, the hopelessness that has led so many of you to take or attempt to take your own lives. 

In a talk I gave over twenty-five years ago when I was bishop of the Los Angeles Singles’ Ward—addressed to the heterosexual members of the ward--I cited Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem, “As Kingfishers Catch Fire,” in which Hopkins says that each of us

Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is—[that is,]
Christ. For [he says] Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.

What Hopkins means is that Christ as our advocate takes our part, acts on our behalf before the Father, letting his light shine through our features and faces so that the Father may see us as Christ sees us—lovely in limbs and eyes (that is, body and soul), in spite of our weaknesses, limitations, and sinfulness.

Since we have the light of Christ within us, since we take on his character when we are born anew through him, thus becoming his children of light, then beyond expressing who and what we are, we also express who he is. Christ justifies us to God, and it is through His grace that when we act before the Father, in a sense we become Christ, because his light shines through us. Christ plays in ten thousand places and through many times ten thousand faces which he makes lovely to the Father through his grace. Those faces Christ plays through are both heterosexual and homosexual. He would bring us all to God.

The Gospel of St. Matthew shows us that Christ intends for us as his disciples to imitate him in this way—that is, that we are to see one another as he sees us, to consciously engage our imaginations as he employed his so that we, like him, can see the very essence of one another’s being, in Latter-day Saint terms, see the light of Christ in one another’s faces. When we do this, our only response is to love one another with as pure a love as we are capable of manifesting. As the novelist, Francisco Goldman says, “The great metaphor at the heart of the Gospel According to Saint Matthew is that those who suffer and those who show love for those who suffer are joined through suffering and grace to Jesus Christ.”

I concluded my remarks to members of the Los Angeles First ward with these words: 

I pray the Lord will bless us as brothers and sisters in the Kingdom of God, as those who have taken upon us His name, that we will let Christ's light shine through our faces, that we will make of our community a wholeness, that we will seek that common ground of peace of which Paul speaks, and that we will learn how to love and serve the Lord by celebrating who we are, his heterosexual and homosexual sons and daughters. Because we are all his creatures, we are all born with his light. I pray that we may let that light shine among us, that it might grow, that we ourselves might be its beacon, and that, as a Church and as individuals, we not only will pray to the Lord for greater light and understanding, but that we will turn our hearts with greater charity, love and acceptance of all of those whom we might consider strangers.

In Matthew 25 Christ puts Himself in the place of the stranger--of the homosexual, if you will, saying in effect, "Inasmuch as you have done it or not done it unto the least of one of these my homosexual brothers or sisters, you have done it or not done it unto me" (25:40).

What does this mean for you, my homosexual brothers and sisters? I wish I could say that you just have to be patient with us, your unimaginative, incomplete and wounded fellow saints, that you just have to continue to endure our spiritual immaturity as we strive to become more enlightened and more loving, but the fact is, you too have this role to play—you must also see us, those who have despised and rejected you, who have belittled and banished you, who have failed to find you in our imaginations—you must see us in the same way Christ calls us to see you. That is, even as we continue to cause you to suffer, you are called to imagine our lives--our fears, ignorance and prejudice that characterize our un-Christian treatment of you. That above all is what it means to be a follower of Christ. With him, we are to replace, ignorance with knowledge, error with truth, injustice with justice and, most of all, hate with love. 

I know it is not just for you to have to respond in this way to an institution and individuals who have treated you in unkind, unjust and, yes, un-Christian ways, but if we are to find our way out of the labyrinth we are in, which I think we must do together, it is incumbent upon us all to do what Christ calls us to do. It is through this work that we reform both ourselves and our Church. It is in this constant reforming that we prevent both ourselves and the Church from becoming idols. Thus, in order for this to happen, we have to get out of our social and religious ghettos, see one another’s real lives and try to understand one another’s lived experiences. 

I love the old Shaker hymn titled “More Love,” which includes the following lyrics:

If ye love not each other in daily communion,

How can ye love God whom ye have not seen?

More love, more love;

The heaven’s are blessing

The angels are calling

O Zion! More love.

If in the Church we can imagine change beyond policy and practice, beyond culture, perhaps even beyond currently accepted doctrine, we may become agents of change and thereby help transform the Church, perhaps liberate it from some of its less enlightened traditions, and even glorify it in new ways, thus demonstrating that we are indeed ready and anxious to receive on this subject new revelation regarding "great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God." As the humanist Ihab Hassan says, "Liberations come from some strange region where the imagination meets change. . . . We need to re-imagine change itself, else we labor to confirm all our errors." Or, as Saul Bellow’s Henderson says, “All human accomplishment has this same origin, identically. Imagination is a force of nature. Is this not enough to make a person full of ecstasy? Imagination, imagination, imagination! It converts to actual. It sustains, it alters, it redeems!”

Twenty-one years ago I gave the keynote address at the Affirmation national conference in Palm Springs. In that address, I made an analogy between what was happening in the Church in relation to homosexuality and what had transpired in American and Mormon culture in relation to blacks. I quote from that address:

In his powerful essay, "Notes of a Native Son," James Baldwin speaks about the rage he felt as he went through a series of humiliating experiences as a young man living in New York [City]. He was refused service in a number of restaurants simply because he was black.  Finally, the accumulation of humiliations caused him to react with a kind  of unconscious violence . . . . I saw nothing very clearly but I did see this: that my life, my real life, was in danger, and not from anything other people might do, but from the hatred I carried in my own heart." 

Later in the same essay Baldwin concludes, "In order to really hate white people, one has to blot so much out of the mind--and the heart--that this hatred itself becomes an exhausting and self-destructive pose. But this does not mean, on the other hand, that love comes easily: the white world [and here one can substitute the straight world] is too powerful, too complacent, too ready with gratuitous humiliation, and above all, too ignorant and too innocent for that . . . . Hatred, which could destroy so much, never failed to destroy the man who hated and this was an immutable law."

In a letter to his nephew, James, written on the hundredth anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation, Baldwin writes, "There is no reason for you to try to become like white people and there is no basis whatever for their impertinent assumption that they must accept you. The really terrible thing, old buddy, is that you must accept them. And I mean that very seriously. You must accept them and accept them with love. For these innocent people have no other hope. They are, in effect, still trapped in a history which they do not understand; and until they understand it, they cannot be released from it. . . . We cannot be free until they are free."

Have any of you ever considered that part of your work for humanity might be teaching heterosexuals how to love better? It may not be fair that you are asked to do this, but I believe that it is God's will that you do so because, like blacks and other hated groups, you have experienced the deprivation of love in a profound way, and that depravation has given you a gift which, if you will use it, can bless your lives and the lives of others.  Having been subject to rejection, ostracism, and even hatred, you may understand something about the importance of love which others do not. I believe that it is in rising through our suffering to such love that we attain holiness.

I would like to close with a story that illustrates this principle, Raymond Carver’s “A Small Good Thing.” In this story a couple, the Weisses, make preparations to celebrate the birthday of their only son, Scotty. They order a cake from the local bakery. On the day of the party the boy is hit by a car and lapses into a coma. The parents wait anxiously by the bedside day after day but their son never awakens and, after a short time, dies. The baker, unaware of the accident, continues to call the parents to come and pick up the cake. Grieving, they do not return his calls. He continues to call and leaves abusive, threatening messages on their answering machine. Finally, one night they go to the bakery to express their outrage at the Baker’s behavior. When they tell him that their son is dead, he is embarrassed and ashamed. A simple man, he does the only thing he can think of—he offers them some of his fresh-baked bread. As they sit in the darkened bakery eating, he reveals his own life of loneliness, of being childless, of working sixteen hours a day baking thousands of wedding and birthday cakes and imagining the celebrations surrounding them, none of which ever touch his life personally.

Finally, he takes a fresh loaf of dark bread from the oven, breaks it open and offers some to them. “Smell this” he says, “It’s a heavy bread but rich.” Carver writes, “They smelled it, then he had them taste it. It had the taste of molasses and coarse grains. They listened to him. They ate what they could. They swallowed the dark bread. It was like daylight under the florescent trays of light. They talked on into the early morning, the high, pale cast of light in the windows, and they did not think of leaving.”

This is a powerful story of loss, grief, death, forgiveness, and most of all of love. It is also a story of redemption. The association in the story of bread with light reminds us of Christ who is both the bread of life and the light of the world. Partaking of the bread of life each week, we too taste of his light. (Here I would add that if you do not feel comfortable partaking of the sacrament in a Latter-day Saint congregation, find one that welcomes you and partake of it there.) It is a small good thing we do and is akin to all of the other small acts of understanding, forgiveness and compassion we give to one another. Such acts of love, it seems to me, have their genesis in the light of Christ which is in every one of us. It is our sacred calling to magnify that light in our hearts and souls and to carry it to and receive it from one another as we receive the emblems of Christ’s sacrifice, that is, with gratitude and hope. 

More love, more love;

The heaven’s are blessing

The angels are calling

O Zion! More love.

In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Officially withdrawing my support for "Circling the Wagons" Mormon LGBT Conference

Friends-

It is with much thought and disappointment that I write this post. I am publicly withdrawing my support for the Mormon LGBT Conference “Circling the Wagons,” and have resigned my position as member of the board of directors.

“Circling the Wagons,” to date, has been a wonderful experience. It has offered an alternate view for LGBT Mormons and their families who wish to allow gay Mormons to live their lives authentically as LGBT individuals. It has given hope to many, and been a great breath of fresh air from the outdated guidance that has dominated the Mormon LGBT landscape for decades.

Unfortunately, that has changed. The conference being held in Salt Lake City this November features speakers and messages that I, as an openly gay Mormon, cannot support. These include:

• Josh Weed, who is well known for his individual choice as a gay man to be married to a woman
• Steven Frei, President of North Star, an organization that positions LGBT Mormons as “struggling with same-sex attraction” and encourages them to change or suppress their orientation

The messages that will be delivered in this November’s “Circling the Wagons” are in direct conflict to everything my heart and spirit tell me about the nature of being a gay Mormon. North Star encourages LGBT Mormons to view themselves as broken and afflicted, while Mr. Weed’s message is routinely co-opted by many within our faith as the preferred path for LGBT Mormon youth, despite his insistence that it may not be the path for everyone. 

I have spent many years holding the belief that we as LGBT individuals are perfectly fine in the eyes of our Father—we don’t need to lead other people’s versions of our lives. Our path is uniquely our own, and just because humans don’t quite yet understand how we fit in our Father’s kingdom doesn’t mean our Father hasn’t known all along. And I have spent many years helping others who’ve struggled inside the confines of existing folklore-based policies—including many depressed and suicidal youth.

As a member of the board, it is my responsibility to help design direction and strategy for these events, including our mission. This conference represents a significant shift in my understanding of our purpose, and is one on which I was not consulted and do not support.

What is most disturbing to me is that we now have evidence-based research from The Family AcceptanceProject that demonstrate that encouraging LGBT children to suppress or change their orientation is actually a factor that contributes greatly to health risks of LGBT youth—including suicide. 

According to the impeccable research done by Dr. Caitlin Ryan of San Francisco State University, LGBT young people whose parents reject them are: More than eight times as likely to attempt suicide, nearly six times as likely to report high levels of depression, more than three times as likely to use illegal drugs, and more than three times as likely to be at high risk for HIV and sexually transmitted diseases.

An LDS oriented version of the booklet that suggests ways families can insure a safer life for their LGBT children, co-authored by former bishop Robert Rees, is found at the site mentioned above.

In addition, based on scientific data from the American Psychological Association demonstrating that conversion therapy (encouraging people to change or suppress their orientation) poses significant risks to youth (including depression, anxiety, and self-harm), has been banned in the state of California. To quote the author of this article, “Young people in this country must be allowed to grow up knowing that they are accepted and loved no matter whom they love.”

Given these factual sources of scholarship, it not only feels unethical to give platform to these messages, but it is, quite frankly, dangerous. I am disappointed that the leadership of “Circling the Wagons” does not recognize the threat to LGBT Mormon youth they implicitly endorse with this conference. Combined with the lack of inclusion on a major shift in direction, I must respectfully withdraw my support for and involvement in the organization.

I wish my friends at “Circling the Wagons” well, and send my kindest regards to Mr. Weed and those within North Star. But I cannot be part of an organization that disseminates messages that are proven to increase the risk of suicide and other serious health issues to the same group of people that I seek to help.

Circling the Wagons: Bishop Don Fletcher's talk

The talk given by my Bishop, Don Fletcher, at the Circling the Wagons Mormon LGBT Conference in San Francisco last month, shared with his permission. I'm a blessed man to get to serve with a human who has such an amazing spirit.

Enjoy.
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One of my favorite scriptures is 1 Nephi 11:17.  In this passage Nephi is being grilled/peppered with questions by an angel.  Not personally being a scholar on all points of gospel nuance, I can readily identify with his answer to the angel in this verse: “And I said unto him: I know that He loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.” (1 Nephi 11:17)

As a human, I certainly don’t know the meaning of all things either--yet I am also totally confident that God loves all of His children.

There are a vast array of challenges that beset the members of my ward – some are very emotionally distressing.  In my calling as a bishop, I love to make use of priesthood blessings – like Peter said in Acts, it is a gift that is very concrete and real that I can offer my ward members. The words of the Lord through a priesthood blessing can often be not only comforting, but sometimes very instructive also.

“Then Peter said, silver and gold have I none; but such as I have, give I thee.” (Acts 3:6)

My ward in San Francisco may have the distinction of having more members that are gay than any other on the planet.  I have had the privilege of meeting with many of these members and they have blessed my life greatly. A common thread that I hear repeatedly is an ongoing testimony of the gospel, a love of the Savior and a total confusion about how a gay person fits into the Lord’s eternal plan. 

In each of the many blessings I have given to these individuals, as I have laid my hands on their heads, I have felt strongly impressed to always start each and every blessing with the simple declaration that “you are loved by the Lord, right now, exactly as you are”.  It has amazed me at how powerfully those words have affected these members.  It may seem simple and obvious but it has had a deeply positive impact for my members to know that.

Bishop Fletcher at the Statue of Liberty

The history of the world is replete with various groups of people not being loved, accepted, or respected.  In a recent trip to New York, I had the opportunity to visit Liberty Island and gaze at that beautiful symbol of our freedom moving forward, even Lady Liberty.  I was interested to hear the story that in the 1896 unveiling party for that strong feminine form, women were not invited, not allowed on the island for that occasion.  The suffragettes circled the islands in boats, protesting their exclusion!
 
I have served as a bishop in 3 different states – Florida, Alabama and California.  Each location has afforded me the opportunity to advocate for the inclusion of sometimes marginalized members.  In Florida, I do not think that my older members were always given the respect and opportunities that they should have had.  (I must admit some bias here being a physician with an almost entirely geriatric practice – I love my senior patients.) 

In Alabama, my wonderful ward in inner city Birmingham was made up of about 65% African American members.  These fine Saints were familiar with the sting of not always being seen as equal.  My first counselor recounted the story of how several years earlier (but after 1978) he had been interviewed for the Melchezidek priesthood.  One evening, while cleaning the Stake President's office while working as the janitor for the stake center, he was hurt deeply to find his recommend with bold red letters scribbled on it proclaiming “THIS MAN IS BLACK.” The culprit was never identified, but the critical lesson was the Christlike manner in which this man responded. Though hurt, he proceeded on with full activity in the church, humbly serving around those who did not see things as the Savior would have had them.

The Bay Ward in San Francisco tries hard to be exemplary of Christ like love and acceptance to all in our diverse congregation – I am honored to be one of its members.  As I have visited as a bishop with our many gay members, I have been overwhelmingly saddened to hear their stories of great emotional suffering.  The feelings of isolation from gay members who have reached the conclusion that they are not worthy of God’s love are the most heart wrenching I have heard.

I have a family member who is gay and is not currently attending church meetings.  He still has a testimony of the restoration.  He knows the Book of Mormon is true.  But with reference to his ward, he simply states, “If they knew who I was, they would not want me there”.  That is his honest well considered perception—and his sad reality.
 
Primary songs bring the spirit into my life with great dependability.  One of my favorite Primary songs has always been the song – “I'll Walk with You”, the words of that song composed by Carol Lynn Pearson.  (pg 140, Children’s Songbook)

   If you don't walk as most people do,
   Some people walk away from you,
   But I won't! I won't!
   If you don't talk as most people do,
   Some people talk and laugh at you,
   But I won't! I won't!
   I'll walk with you. I'll talk with you.
   That's how I'll show my love for you.
   Jesus walked away from none.
   He gave his love to ev'ryone.
   So I will! I will!
   Jesus blessed all he could see,
   Then turned and said, "Come, follow me."
   And I will! I will!
   I will! I will!
   I'll walk with you. I'll talk with you.
   That's how I'll show my love for you.
 Words: Carol Lynn Pearson, © 1987 IRI
 
In the words of Carol Lynn Pearson from her wonderful book, “No More Goodbyes”, Carol Lynn has this to say about the song. In the Children’s songbook there is a lovely picture of one child pushing another in a wheelchair…"but as I wrote it I also had in mind the little children who, as they grow up, will find themselves of a sexual orientation sure to present a challenge for them in our church and our society."
 
I love these words of Elder Jeffrey Holland: "Some members exclude from their circle of fellowship those who are different. When our actions or words discourage someone from taking full advantage of Church membership, we fail them—and the Lord."  The time has come for us to work diligently to make sure that this admonition is applied to Latter-day Saints who are gay.  I cannot imagine how it would feel; to think you are not were not capable of being loved of God.  The priesthood blessings I have been privileged as a bishop to give many gay members have not only instructed the receivers of the blessings, but me, as well. And that instruction is quite clear: All of us are loved by the Lord.

This church is truly the church of Jesus Christ.  He lives and He loves us - each and every one.  We are loved and we need to love each other as He loves us.  I hope that as a church we can all shed some of the cultural relics that have prevented gay members from viewing themselves as the loved children of God that they are. 

Such is my prayer, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Our Not-so-Mormon Moment

I’m a pretty easy going guy. Very little gets under my skin these days. I am, after all, a gay Mormon. If I were easily offended I’d have left the playing field a long time ago. And, I’ve often remarked that the only opinion of me that matters more than my own is that of my Savior—and quite honestly, that’s a place I am quite content to remain.

Something happens, though, when I see my Mormon fellows joining hands, and engaging in a spiritual round of, “Tick, tock, the game is locked, and nobody else can play.” I jokingly told my friend Joanna Brooks that maybe this was evidence that I have a paternalistic instinct after all, despite a house full of dead plants that seem to provide evidence to the contrary. But humor aside, not only is this a hurtful, unkind signal to anyone who doesn’t fit our own personal definition of “Mormon,” it completely misses the primary message of our Savior: “Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” (Matt. 7:12.)

Last week’s Rock Center special on “Mormon in America” provided us as a faith with a potentially amazing opportunity to give our fellows across the country a look at Mormons at their best—honest, kind, compassionate, diverse, and a people who genuinely aspire to be emissaries of our Savior’s unconditional love. And by and large, while it wasn’t perfect, I tip my hat to my new friends at NBC for doing a pretty darn good job with what they had to work with.

But then it went wrong.

The post-interview on KSL (a local Salt Lake City station) featured the Mormon family that had been interviewed in the same segment as Joanna Brooks, Abby Hunstman, and me. And as I listened to what was said, I felt a familiar hot feeling crawling up my gut and into my face—shame. Rest assured, I was not shamed by the messages they delivered—I believe what we say about others tells the rest of the world a lot more about us, than it does them. I was ashamed, as a Mormon, for them.

In the KSL commentary from the Mormon family, there was no gratitude. Humility was shockingly absent. There was no wish that more of our church had been presented, or that more time had been dedicated to what the sacrament or other cherished parts of our faith represent to us. It wasn’t about our religion at all. It was about being better than others.

Said the wife, smiling: “I always am concerned when they focus on circumstances or exceptions that are the fringe element of the faith. I think 98% of the members of the church are indicative of how our family is, but they seemed to focus on more of the 2% that are disenfranchised at some level, so I always go, ‘Oh…’ (rolls eyes). Because they spent three days with us! And so we know what they saw, and what they could have highlighted, and it seemed like it was a little superficial in some of the clips they did on us, and more in depth on those that were...” (groans, winces)

Said the husband, smiling: “I wish they had shared more in depth things, as my wife just said, about, like kind of the way they did with the 2%, and the folks that are disenfranchised…I wish they had shown more of our kids because that’s really who we are.” 

Said the wife, again, while the husband smiles in the background: “I wish they would have highlighted a little more of mainstream Mormonism, instead of highlighting some of these, unusual, (winces, looks pained) circumstances, situations or feelings (of) a small minority of members, they always seem to focus on those who have issues with the faith, and I think, ‘Well..’ (winces again). I’m not sure that’s the best, you know, indicator of a faith.”

Said the husband: “But I want to add to that, most of America, when they’ve been exposed to people of our religion and our faith, are impressed and they know who we are.  And I think for the most part, we’re becoming more and more accepted into the mainstream, and you know, a tree is known by its fruit. And members of this faith who live their faith religiously, faithfully, their fruit is good. And that’s really who we are and what we’re about, and we go about letting our light shine, and I wish NBC had shown more of that tonight, but, (deep breath) it’s NBC, and they’re a little different in terms of, uh, what they wanted to portray tonight, and I understand. But we know who we are, and we put our best foot forward for those three days.”

We are the better Mormons, their message implied. We deserve more. And the element we consider “fringe diversity” didn’t merit representation to such an extent—or maybe even at all. They don’t really count. After all, the fringe, in our estimation, only accounts for 2% of our faith—so clearly they deserve less.

They deserve less.

At its best, this message tells the rest of the world that Mormons are elitists—that while we may smile when you’re with us, underneath simmers an ugly disdain and scorn for anyone we determine to be different in any regard; that while our smiles may be warm, our hearts are not.

At its worst, it’s a way of legitimizing persecuting and humiliating those we think, in our imperfect mortal state, are less than us. It tells the world that we believe that anyone different from us not only deserves less air time—but less church, less inclusion, less love, and perhaps even less God.

I suspect there’s not a Mormon out there who hasn’t heard (or been the recipient of) one of these messages—so sadly, this isn’t just a horribly unfortunate and isolated mistake. Instead, it exemplifies one of the most significant challenges within our faith today. Facebook chatrooms and individual blogs share thousands of stories where Mormons have dishonored their own covenants to ‘bear one another’s burdens’ and instead, castigated their fellows and heaped upon them scorn and rejection.

After the NBC special and following interview aired, the emails and messages started pouring in from the ‘fringe:’

I went to the Mormon Church while I visited Utah. I’ve seen these kind of people. Never before have I met such intolerant people who smile so much.

I was raised in the Mormon Church, and there are parts of it I love and miss. But I got tired of the Relief Society sisters bringing over plates of cookies and looking at me with pity and saying (about my non-member husband), ‘Don’t you hope one day he’ll convert?’ My response was, ‘No, I married him because I love him for who he is.’

I heard these same messages over and over again in my ward. I’m not gay, I’m not a feminist, but I couldn’t watch these people claim to be Christlike and hurt others in His name. When I resigned, I put my Sunday School teaching manual down on my Bishop’s desk and said politely, ‘I’m sorry…I’m just too compassionate to be a Mormon.’

I don’t know how you and Joanna [Brooks] do it. Good thing Jesus didn’t have the attitude many Mormons seem to have. There sure would have been a lot of disappointed lepers.

What troubles me the most is we know better—and we can certainly do better. This isn’t Mormonism at its best. And it certainly doesn’t exemplify what each of us strives to be—examples of our Savior’s unconditional love.

In fact, if we think about it, our Savior was chiefly concerned with the fringe—one of his mottos, after all, was “leave the ninety-nine to get the one.” And as always, His example is the penultimate when it came to expressing 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 ‘fringe’ Mormons, was judged unfit to mingle with the community, unfit to worship in the temple. She was an outcast--scorned, and unclean.

Yet, like so 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 on the fringe, regardless of consequence.

Being numbered among the fringe is not a plague; but what many of us suffer at the hands of others, is. What an amazing invitation this story is 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. 

Over time, I’ve come to view my church much the same way I view my mortal fellows—imperfect, and presented with constant opportunities to improve. As such, there are things we will get amazingly and stunningly right. And there are things we will get horribly, painfully wrong. But like the humans who inhabit it, our Church will learn, grow, and continue to improve as long as we’re mindful of where we’re off course, and gently guide ourselves back to where we should be.

I believe that I cannot be an ambassador of my LGBT brothers and sisters and ask for compassion, understanding, inclusion and patience from my Mormon fellows—if I am not among the very first to offer those same qualities to them. It is the responsibility of every Mormon to help our church and our membership continue to become better children to our Father, and better disciples to our Savior.

Often, for me, I’ve found one of the most effective ways I improve is when someone has the courtesy—and the courage—to hold a mirror up to me, to allow me to see myself as others view me. Sometimes I don’t like the image that’s reflected back. But invariably—and especially when I don’t like what I see—I’m always grateful for the chance to make a course correction, and come a little bit closer to the kind of person both I and my Savior want me to be.

And it is in that same spirit in which I write this post—with love for my fellows both inside our church and out, and the confidence that we, too, can improve and grow. 

As for me personally, 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. As such, 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 its 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 in this Mormon Moment. 

So to my new friends at NBC, thank you. I know how many nights, weekends, and labor-intensive hours went into this production. I know your hearts were in the right place. I know it was your desire to produce something that would represent us honestly and that would make us happy—yet not be a manufactured PR infomercial. And I, for one, think you did a pretty good job. Any time we can get an hour of Mormon time on national TV, it’s a win for us—and one that many, like me, appreciate.

And to those who have heard a scornful Mormon remark that makes you feel like ‘fringe diversity,’ I am sorry. We’re not perfect, and our words and our actions may not always show the love we strive to hold in our hearts for you. But we’ll get better—it’s part of who we are.

While no one speaks for 98% of our faith, I do speak for myself. And you’re welcome in my ward any Sunday—regardless of your color, stripe, spot, pattern, or any other marker we use to create distance between ourselves and others. I’d love to see you there.

Heck, I might even take you out for a Diet Coke afterward.

A parent's letter to their family: Our son is gay--and we love him

This post is dedicated to my friends the Montgomerys. Below you will find a letter they sent to their family late last week, explaining that while their son is gay, not much of anything else has really changed: They still love their Savior, they're still active Mormons, and they still love their son--the same way they always did. 

It is my hope that other parents of Mormon LGBT children out there see this and realize it is possible--very possible--to love your child unconditionally, keep them safe from health risks, and still remain true to your faith. In fact, I think this is one of the truest representations of our faith there is--putting into action the principle that our family is first, our children are precious, and no other success can compensate for failure in the home. 

I think my favorite part is how this helps dispel the illusion that you have to choose between your church and your child. Kudos to the Montgomerys for not allowing anyone to force them into that horrible Sophie's Choice. 

Enjoy the read from my new friends--and my new heroes. And pay special attention to the postscript from their son at the end--that's a message we all need to hear.

_______________________________________________________________

To all our friends and family, we feel that it’s time share something that has been a significant experience in our lives.  Many of you already know this, or may have heard secondhand, so we wanted you to hear it directly from us (Tom and Wendy): our oldest son, Jordan, is gay. You may wonder why we would share this information (and of course it’s with Jordan’s permission).  We will explain, but first we want to share our experience through some excerpts from Wendy’s journal.

BEGINNING OF EXCERPTS FROM WENDY’S JOURNAL:

On the last Sunday in January, I stayed home from church with my daughter, Emma, who was sick.  Tom took the other 4 kids to church with him.  They weren’t even gone 5 minutes before I had a strong feeling to go read Jordan’s journal.  That feeling came twice before I acted on it.  (Jordan started keeping a journal as a Duty to God requirement a couple weeks before this.)  I’m not sure I can adequately describe my feelings as I read the things my sweet son wrote.  The entries clearly portrayed his conflicted feelings of being attracted to other guys, and not feeling anything towards his friends that are girls.  He knew he was different, that there was something “wrong” with him. 

The next day I drove down to visit my brother who is a Bishop in his ward and has had some gay teens in his ward.  I also stayed with my sister for a couple days.  I was afraid to come home and be around Jordan until I knew I could control my emotions and tears.  Tom is much better controlling his emotions and was able to be around Jordan without him sensing that anything was wrong.  I didn’t want Jordan to know that we knew yet and that we had read his journal because if that was the only way I could find out what was going on with him, I didn’t want that window shut. 

Tom and I met with our Bishop that week and talked with him about what to do.  He referred us to LDS Family Services to see a counselor about it.  In the meantime, we had several talks with Jordan, trying to let him know that he could talk to us about anything, we would love him and accept him no matter what, and so on.  We were hoping he would open up and talk to us about it, but he didn’t. 

After a few weeks, we decided that we couldn’t wait any longer for him to come out to us on his own.  So Tom gave Jordan a Priesthood blessing that night after the other kids were in bed.  It was a beautiful, powerful blessing.  Afterward, Jordan sat next to me on the bed and I just hugged him.  Tom looked at Jordan and said, “Jordan, I feel like I need to ask you something.  Are you struggling with feelings of homosexuality?”  I felt Jordan start to tremble and cry.  Then he nodded.  He looked absolutely terrified.  Jordan just clung to me, for almost 2 hours.  We told him how much we love him, how this changes NOTHING of how we feel for him.  We accept him completely and will help him through this.

I have come to learn that how we handled that moment was an exceptional “coming out” for a gay teenager.  Many (including LDS teens) are disowned, kicked out of their home, screamed at, had hateful, awful things said to them, etc.  I can’t imagine EVER feeling like that towards one of my children.  But I know it was a tender mercy of the Lord that we had a couple weeks of knowing before this moment, so we could get a handle on our own difficult emotions and not experience the shock that so many parents do when their kids come out to them.

There is no way to adequately explain how we feel, the emotions we are going through, or what we need to do to cope with all of this, all while trying to hold it together enough for our other 4 kids.  I didn’t know it was possible to cry so much, to have emotional pain be so intense that it becomes physical pain, to grieve over someone who wasn’t dead.  I feel like I am mourning the loss of the life I wanted for my son, and thought he would have: a mission, temple marriage, being a father.  It was as though the boy I raised was gone and I had to get to know this new boy.  He was different now, but still the same.  Such a confusing place for me!  I have read and studied this subject in the Church so much that I have a very good idea of what his life will be like as a gay LDS man.  If he chooses to stay true to the teachings of the gospel, then he will have a life of loneliness and celibacy.  Never having a companion or someone to love breaks my heart for him.  If he chooses to leave the Church and live an openly gay life, then he gives up the blessings associated with the Church.  He will likely pull away from his family because it will be awkward for him (even though we will try to not make it so).

My poor son!  This is an impossible situation, with no good solution in this life.  He is only 13, and most 13-year olds are not looking that far into their future.  But as his parents, we know this.  And it is an excruciating thing.  But he is STILL that wonderful, amazing, happy, always smiling, enthusiastic boy he has always been.  He is STILL the child I have loved the longest, my first-born, and will forever love regardless of what happens with this or what choices he makes.  

END JOURNAL EXCERPTS

So why are we sharing this with you now?  Our belief is that the choices before Jordan are both unfair and horrible.  They are complicated by both ignorance of fundamental facts and the polarizing political world surrounding gay issues.  Wendy, in particular, has made it her mission to be as educated on the subject as possible. She has studied both scientific research on it and read church leaders’ statements on same-sex attraction, which in recent years has evolved significantly.  She has read and listened to the experiences of hundreds of LDS gay men and women.   She has also waded through the majority of political, hate-filled misinformation out there.   She loses sleep regularly in her search for answers and help for Jordan.  Every spare minute she has is devoted to this.  From all her study and from our discussions with Jordan, I would like to share with you some of the important things we have learned:

(1) Being gay is not a choice.  Science and psychology have recognized this for a long time, and even the church has come to recognize this in recent years. I have read some of the scientific research (mostly from Bill Bradshaw, a BYU biology professor and former mission president), which is quite compelling. But more compelling than the science is the experience and testimony of numerous faithful LDS gay people, including Jordan.  They sincerely tell us that they never chose to be attracted to the same sex; in fact many have tried in various ways to ignore it, fight it or change it – but it doesn’t go away.  Moreover, why would an honest, faithful young man or woman ever choose to be gay in our church and suffer the shame, guilt and rejection that too often come with it?  Those who doubt this proposition should ask themselves, did I ever have to make a conscious decision to like and be attracted to the opposite sex, or was it natural and instinctive? Likewise, it is natural and instinctive for those who are attracted to the same sex.

(2)  Sexual orientation doesn’t change.  Again, numerous studies and the experience of numerous faithful LDS gay people can’t be ignored.  As Bill Bradshaw observes, “honesty compels us to consider the experience of a very large number of LDS gay people, who in spite of exhaustive, lengthy, and totally sincere efforts have not been able to change the fact of who they are sexually.  A testimony of the gospel, faithful church activity, fasting, prayer, missionary service, temple service – all of these are important, but none, in any combination, has been able to alter sexual orientation.” Any doubters should ask themselves, is there anything that would cause me to lose my feelings towards the opposite sex and be attracted to members of the same sex?

(3)  Being gay is not just about sex - any more than being heterosexual is just about sex.  Gay people are no different than straight people when it comes to relationships.  Like all human beings, they desire emotional, spiritual and physical attachment. They feel the same compulsion to fall in love, find a companion and share their life with someone. The desire for physical intimacy is just one aspect of the spectrum of feelings and emotions that humans, whether gay or straight, experience in a relationship.

As we learned these things, we have become comfortable with who Jordan is; and we no longer feel a need to hope for things that cannot happen.  For whatever purpose the Lord has, a certain number of people are faced with same sex attraction.  This does not change the fact that Jordan will need to choose how to live with being gay, but it circumvents a lifetime of petitioning the Lord for something that will never happen and focus his choices on how to live now.  He can move forward secure that he is as the Lord made him and not a broken or wicked person.  Our hope is that he continues to build his faith in the Savior and that he can find happiness in the Church, and we will do everything we can to assist in creating a place for gay people in the Church.

The points outlined above should help secure our compassion and empathy for those who are gay.  There has been too much pain and suffering, mistreatment and rejection – all because of ignorance, fear and misunderstanding.  This isn’t a political effort to get you to vote one way or another, but as long as this subject is taboo and people are too afraid or intimidated to speak about it, then young gay people in the church will continue to suffer.  Today in the Church (and our communities) there is bullying, fear and self-loathing – even suicide.  We will continue to lose too many wonderful gay men and women (and often their families) because they feel unwanted and unwelcome among us.

This should not happen in our Church.  This is why Wendy and I have decided that we can no longer be silent, closeted parents.  We don’t want to be a part of the problem.  We want all gay people, particularly that young man or woman in our midst who is silently suffering with nowhere to turn, to know that we love them and support them.  We are there for them and for their family if they need help, encouragement or understanding.  The Church at this time has no official outreach or instruction on this subject, other than a few statements over the years and a pamphlet.  Local leaders are mostly left on their own on how to counsel gay members.  Among other things, Wendy and I have spoken with our local church leaders about our willingness to be a resource to help educate fellow members and especially to help individuals and families who just need someone to talk to.  There shouldn’t be one member of our Church who thinks it is the Church’s position that they should turn against their children, throw them out of their homes or shun them.  This is the opposite of what Christ would do.

Here is our final point:

To be members of the church in full fellowship, gay members must make a sacrifice of supreme proportions. They are not allowed to fall in love, show physical affection, or be married to those to whom they are naturally attracted.  They are required to be completely celibate.  Being gay is not like having a disability, as some have tried to tell me. Gay people are capable of living and loving like everyone else. A disabled person is never told that they are not worthy of God’s choicest blessings, they always have hope and admiration. As do single women in the church, who are progressing in years without a prospective husband on the horizon. Again, they have hope, support, and love. Our church is all about the eternal family and the only group of people who have no hope of attaining this are homosexuals. To deny a Latter-Day-saint this goal is to strip them of their very reason for being. So, no, nothing can compare.

To give it a personal perspective, if you were told that you could not marry or that you had to give up your spouse or boyfriend/girlfriend in order to retain your membership in the church, how would you choose?  Thankfully, most of us don’t have to make such a difficult decision, but most gay people do. And because falling in love and having someone to share your life with is such a major part of our earthly experience (and a major focus of the church), the great majority of gay people at some time or another choose that path.  We have heard statistics that say up to 80% of gay children leave the Church.

Our only purpose in bringing up this point is so that we might have an extra measure of empathy and compassion for our gay brothers and sisters.  Many of us, Wendy and I included, gave of our time and resources fighting for prop 8 in California, but have we spent one moment of our time to reclaim or show love to some of these rejected souls?  And we wonder why our efforts are perceived as hate.  We should welcome them with open arms into our congregations with love and acceptance, no matter their status or circumstances.  We are simply asking that we love them as the Savior does.  Love Jordan as you always have.  This does not require any doctrinal changes or threaten the sanctity of marriage.  It might just make us all a bit more Christ-like.

While this has probably been too wordy already, there are many things that have been left unsaid.  If you have any questions, please feel free to talk to us.  Also, feel free to share this letter with anyone you feel may benefit from our story.

With love,

Tom and Wendy Montgomery 

P.S from Jordan: I wanted to say something to you guys. Many of you know that we went to San Francisco this past weekend. It was one of the best experiences of my life. We went to a conference for gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgender people (LGBT). They are wonderful and amazing people who have been so devastated and hurt by what society and their families have said and done to them.  Some were thrown out of their homes, others beaten, and some lost everything when they came out. I don’t want this to keep happening. I and my parents are only the start of something that can take the blinders off of people’s eyes and let them see that we should all just love and accept each other for who we are. I’ve been bullied a lot by people at my school and previous schools. That bullying can drive people to suicide, cutting themselves, and all these awful things that I would never throw on anyone for as long as I live. All I’m asking of you is that you love and accept EVERYONE. Not just gays and lesbians, but EVERYONE.

Jordan Montgomery