Friday, December 25, 2015

The True Color of Crows

In my hometown in California, our high school played host to a murder of crows. I remember my English teacher asking me to go outside and throw a rock on the roof to try and dispel the gathering of loquacious birds, who despite my best efforts would return only a few minutes later. During lunch I’d watch them swoop in for a dropped french-fry and then settle on a branch, cawing in triumph.

I loved their glossy black color. I would search for hours for a dropped crow feather, though I never did find one. When I entered college, I was shocked to learn that crows are not black at all; they are ultraviolet. Humans have only three kinds of cones in their eyes, which means we can only perceive color from red to violet; everything beyond that just looks black. Light is still reflecting off the surface, but it is of such high or low frequency that our eyes just don’t register it.

This got me thinking about a passage in the scriptures: Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter (Isaiah 5:20, 2 Nephi 15:20). Many have this attitude in the recent political debates over gay marriage and the place in general of homosexuals in society. Prophets are warning that we are legalizing evil. To quote Elder Boyd K. Packer, “when you put a moral instrument on it, the needle immediately flips to the side labeled ‘wrong’” and “even one who is spiritually immature ought intuitively to sense that such actions are wrong, very wrong” (“To The One,” 1978).

But what if gays aren't dark after all, but  a kind of light most people can't perceive? What if they are ultraviolet? The funny thing about birds is that they have 4 or 5 cones in their eyes, allowing them to see into the ultraviolet range. In textbooks they represent this with bright colors, but in reality these birds look and see in colors that are beyond human imagination. No human has ever seen the true color of a crow. But other crows can. What if straight people can only see gays as black, and only other gays can see their true colors?

Perhaps this is why we can’t seem to see eye-to-eye on this issue. I believe that the leaders of the Church are called of God, and I also believe that they are imperfect mortals like me. I believe that they receive revelation, but this revelation is contingent on their readiness to receive it and is filtered through their own mortal perceptions. If the Church ever changes their policies and doctrine on homosexuality, it will be through revelation, through the proper channels God has established. But it may be that the revelation was already there, and it only took a shift in perspective to be able to see it.

Saturday, December 12, 2015

The Pain of Paradox

I remember my mother telling me how difficult it was in the 70s to explain the priesthood ban to non-members. She tried to stress that our church was not racist, but she couldn’t give a reason for why we did not allow black men to hold the priesthood or black members to receive temple ordinances. What she had was her testimony that the Prophet was inspired of God, and she was following him on faith.

Unfortunately, not all members or even leaders were content with such an answer. They wanted rational reasons and doctrines to explain why we had a priesthood ban. We adopted a common belief at the time that black people were descendants of Cain and cursed for his murder. We even mingled this philosophy of men with Mormon doctrine and said that black spirits were less valiant in the pre-mortal existence. When the revelation finally came to remove the ban, we were instructed to throw out all the false doctrine we had created around it. But I still cringe at how our brothers and sisters must have felt when they heard members say that they were inherently less than other members.

History has a way of repeating itself. We are once again embroiled in a civil rights issue where our policy is in conflict with mainstream society. And once again we are creating doctrine to explain why we are so unaccepting of homosexuality. Once again we are telling some of our members that they are inferior to others. In the last month alone I have heard people say that my sexuality is ungodly, an unfortunate disease, a common temptation, and contrary to the purposes of sexuality itself. All these things hurt because my sexuality is a part of who I am and impossible to extricate.

I wish members could share with me the pain of the paradox I am in. On the one hand, I have had many wonderful, faith-affirming experiences, such as:

•    A testimony of God and Jesus Christ
•    A spiritual witness of Christ’s Prophet and Church
•    A deep love and desire for family
•    Seeing the joy the Gospel brings to others
•    Seeing members care for one another in the true spirit of Christ

On the other hand, I have had equally powerful experiences with my homosexuality:

•    Very real feelings of love and affection towards men
•    A feeling of wholeness and safety when in another man’s arms
•    A personal spiritual confirmation that such relationships are OK
•    A desire to raise children with another man who is strong in the Gospel

It is extremely difficult to live in both of these worlds. I take two steps towards the Church and am pulled back toward my homosexuality. I move toward my homosexuality and am pulled back toward the Church. I cannot fully live in either world because I am stuck in between. This is known as a liminal space, and it is a scary place to be. In fairy tales it is the bridge that has a troll lurking underneath, or the cracks between time that harbor the eldritch gods. Humans pass through these places when on their adventures, but they are never meant to live here. Yet queer members of the Church do. We live with conflicting faith and sexuality every day of our lives, and both seem right and good to me.

I don’t see any logical reason that I shouldn’t be able to marry someone of the same sex. Wouldn’t learning to care and sacrifice for a spouse be better than being celibate for life? Wouldn’t it be better for the 400,000 foster children in America to have gay parents instead of no parents at all? But I have also received a witness of the truthfulness of the Church, and spiritual confirmations don’t need logical reasons.

I wish that members could follow my mother’s example and say, “This is an extremely difficult position we are in. While we have faith that President Monson is called of God, we do not know why we have this policy.” In doing so, we give validity and worth to our queer members and express our faith in the Prophet. This would be so much better than creating doctrine that tries to explain away homosexuality. It brings us all into the heart of the paradox, where God’s commandments appear to contradict what our reason tells us. To do so is uncomfortable, to say the least. But acknowledging that we don’t have all the answers is to truly walk by faith.

As part of our baptismal covenant, we promise “to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:9). So I am asking my straight brothers and sisters to help bear the pain of being Mormon and queer. Understand that our policies are discriminatory, cause terrible emotional suffering and suicide, and make little sense in light of recent scientific findings. And at the same time remember the equally true spiritual confirmation that our church is Christ’s true church, with leaders who are inspired of God.

Will you live with the paradox as we do?

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Why Celibacy is Hard

About a year ago my friend and I were driving to a party. He had only recently completed a mission and was ‘anxiously engaged’ in Provo dating life. I hadn’t told him that I was gay at the time, but somehow or other the conversation veered towards homosexuality. I expressed how difficult it must be for gay people in the Church, especially when they aren’t able to pursue any romantic interests. My friend had a chipper rejoinder: “They can just be celibate. That way they can still be part of the Church, and in the next life they’ll be perfected and won’t have to worry about being same-sex attracted.” Problem solved.

Except that it isn’t.

A commitment to life-long celibacy is not an ideal solution to the problem of same-sex attraction, and it worries me that members often think that it is. Particularly dangerous is that word ‘just,’ as in “They should just be celibate.” It implies that this is the obvious default answer, that it is a simple solution which anyone can do. I don’t blame my friend for his answer, since his life circumstances never required him to think too much about this problem. For queer people, it may feel like it’s all we think about. While celibacy may be viable for a few, it is devastating for most.

Let’s start with a basic Gospel principle. Celibacy has never been part of God’s plan, though abstinence is. I’m using these words with a somewhat specialized meaning, so let me clarify. Celibacy as I’m using it here is a life-long commitment to never engage in any romantic or sexual acts. No intercourse, no kissing, no cuddling, no hand-holding. Nada. Abstinence is the commitment to refrain from sexual acts until marriage, though couples may still engage in non-sexual acts such as cuddling or kissing. While some people may experience only a few years of abstinence and others go through decades, the key thing to remember is that abstinence is temporary. It is a transition period that isn’t meant to last forever.

God made this pretty clear in the Garden of Eden: “It is not good that man [or woman] should be alone” (Gen 2:18). Yet this is exactly what we ask queer people to do when we say that they should lock up all their emotions for life.

Part of the problem is that we as a Church are in limbo. Back in the 70s, with the understanding we had at the time, we were certain that homosexuality could be cured like any other disease. For example, President Kimball said that homosexuals “can often be helped to a total cure by a kindly Church leader who understands” (1) and insisted that “homosexuality CAN be cured, if the battle is well organized and pursued vigorously and continuously” (7). We never insisted that queer people be celibate because once they were cured “marriage and normal life can follow” (Kimball 6).

But over the past 40 years our understanding of sexuality has grown. Recently Church leaders have been expressing different counsel in regards to changing orientation:

Case studies I believe have shown that in some cases there has been progress made in helping someone to change that orientation; in other cases not (Elder Lance B. Wickman).

And mixed-orientation marriage:

It’s not always successful. Sometimes it’s been even disastrous. So, we think it’s something that each person can evaluate and they can discuss, both with priesthood leaders and family and others, and make decisions. But we simply don’t take a uniform position of saying “yes” always or “no” always (Elder D. Todd Christofferson).

I’ll leave the ‘yeses’ for another discussion and focus on those who cannot change their orientation or cannot make a heterosexual marriage work, through no fault of their own. These are the people that we say should just be celibate.

Theologically, this is something new. It’s only been in the last decade that we’ve acknowledged that some people really can’t make a heterosexual marriage work. Before that, we believed that everyone could be cured with enough effort. Now we have this new situation, and we haven’t yet figured out a good answer. So we say “Well, just be celibate,” but I hope this is a temporary rather than a life-time solution. Because in the end, celibacy has some extremely damaging drawbacks.

Although the lack of sex is trying, it doesn’t compare with the painful void of no relationships.
I have often heard members compare resisting homosexual impulses to resisting drugs, alcohol, or kleptomania. The problem with this analogy is that you can survive without all these things without any serious damage to yourself. But going without a romantic relationship for your entire life is very damaging. It’s a lot like going without the sun.

Imagine you are locked in a dungeon when you hit puberty. You are well cared for, and your family visits you from time to time, but you are told that you must never go outside again. Your body needs sunlight to produce vitamin D, used primarily to help your body absorb calcium. You have all the milk you can drink, but it doesn’t do you any good. Your bones weaken, your muscles must spend more energy to contract, and even your nerves function with less efficiency. The world literally appears duller to all your senses. There are certain foods you could eat to get some vitamin D, but even then the loss of sunlight produces a spectacular loss of hope.

In a similar way, humans need strong relationships. We grow when we fall in love, when we sacrifice for another. We learn to work through problems and thrive on common goals. As wonderful as friendships are, they do not provide the intimacy and emotional intensity necessary for such growth. We are stunted when we do not express this part of ourselves. All the scripture reading and prayer in the world won’t fill that void. The whole world appears duller.

Worst of all is the loss of hope. Remember that abstinence is only a temporary state with the hope, however dim, that it will end one day. But celibacy has no hope of ending. Queer Mormons must actively squash any opportunities that threaten their celibate state. As Jamison Manwaring put it:

Single people pray every night to find someone to fall in love with.  Gay people trying to stay in the Church pray every night not to find someone to fall in love. (Montgomery)

One suggestion that straight members and leaders make is that “this is but one aspect of any person’s life, and it need not become the consuming aspect of his or her life” (Christofferson). If someone decides to go down the celibacy route, this is certainly necessary. The alternative is to obsess over it. But we live in a church that places marriage and family above everything else. It can be somewhat difficult to forget, especially when we hear quotes like this:

Romantic love is not only a part of life, but literally a dominating influence of it. It is deeply and significantly religious. There is no abundant life without it. Indeed, the highest degree of the celestial kingdom is unobtainable in the absence of it. (Elder Boyd K. Packer)

I don’t want to demean those who have chosen to be celibate. They are people of great faith who are willing to make tremendous sacrifices. I’m more concerned with other members who think that this is an easy decision and expect all queer people to follow this standard (even those who are not members of the Church). There is a huge difference between deciding to be celibate because you believe that it is what God wants you to do and feeling pressured to be celibate by your family and culture. The former is a noble if difficult decision while the latter leaves one feeling trapped and hopeless. But in either case, those who remain celibate have worse internalized homophobia, distress from sexual identity, depression, lower self-esteem, and poorer quality of life (Dehlin et al. 300).

So what are we, as Chirst’s Church, going to do about this? We could look at our queer brothers and sisters and say “Well, they’re coming to Church every Sunday. They’re not breaking any commandments. Our work here is done.” Or in other words, “All is well in Zion; yea, Zion prospereth” (2 Nephi 28:21). I’m afraid that too many of us do this. A better approach would be to invite them into our homes and give them as much friendship and support as we can muster. This is better, but it still only treats a symptom rather than getting to the root of the matter. The best course would be to find a way to remove the need for imposed celibacy.

The solution is not necessarily to allow same-sex relationships. I believe that we have reached a point where human understanding has met its limits. Despite hundreds of thousands of LDS gay men and women striving to find reconciliation for their faith and sexuality, we still haven’t made much progress. Current Church policy is still caught in a hybrid of 1970s and 2015 understanding of sexuality, and our brothers and sisters are paying the price in anguish. We’ve had millennia of queer people pass away in silent suffering. We at last are having an open discussion, striving to understand how non-heterosexual orientations fit into the Plan of Salvation.

Now is the time to ask the Prophet.

We as a Church claim ongoing revelation. When we don’t understand something, we can go to the Prophet and inquire of the Lord. All too often, though, God doesn’t give us an answer until someone asks the question. What would happen if every member of the Church were to pray to God on a regular basis asking how we can help our brothers and sisters who are queer? What if we were to plead that He reveal to the Prophet a way to stop the pain of imposed celibacy? How might faith unlock the windows of Heaven?

I do not know what the Lord might reveal. He could allow same-sex marriages, or reveal an effective way to change orientations, or a solution that no one ever dreamed of.  What I do know is that too many of our members are growing up in pain and sorrow and despair, and the usual tools we employ are not healing them.

And we need to do something soon. Only 29% of queer members stay active in the Church and only half of those are currently in mixed orientation marriages, a projected estimate of 69% of which will end in divorce (Dehlin et al. 291). Once we factor in those who have already divorced, this means that only 9.6% of LDS gay members are receiving a lasting temple marriage, while 90.4% are denied it. Our current methods aren’t working; we need the Lord’s help.

So instead of saying to our brothers and sisters, “Just be celibate,” let us say “Stay celibate for just a little while longer. We’re figuring out something better.”

Works Cited

Christofferson, D. Todd. “Purpose of This Website.” The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
            Saints. 2012. Accessed 6/11/15.
Dehlin, John P., Renee V. Galliher, William S. Bradshaw, Katherine A. Crowell. “Psychological
Correlates to Religious Approaches to Same-Sex Attraction: A Mormon Perspective.” Journal of Gay and Lesbian Mental Health 18 (2014): 284-311.
Kimball, Spencer W. and Mark E. Petersen. Hope for Transgressors. Salt Lake City: The Church
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1970.
Montgomery, Thomas. “A Difference of Opinion.”  No More Strangers: LGBT Mormon Forum.
June 25, 2014. Accessed June 11, 2015.
Oaks, Dallin H. and Lance B. Wickman. “Interview With Elder Dallin H. Oaks and Elder Lance
B. Wickman: ‘Same-Gender Attraction.’” Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of
Packer, Boyd K. “Eternal Love.” BYU Fireside, November 3, 1963. Quoted in Bruce C. Hafen’s

Friday, November 6, 2015

Adam and I

I had a dream.

I dreamt that I married Adam at City Hall. It was the happiest day of my life, for I had married the man I loved.

I dreamt that I woke up beside him the next morning, his warm, brown eyes looking into mine, and we smiled.

I dreamt that on Sunday we sat in the pews at Church. Adam and I shared a hymn book while we sang “Come, come ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear, but with joy wend your way.”

I dreamt that we sat on a bus on our way to Ward Temple Night. The members went inside, some carrying names of my ancestors I had found through genealogy work. Adam and I sat on a bench outside, feeling the Spirit on the grounds, reading our scriptures, and praying together.

I dreamt that Adam and I would save up enough money to pay for the adoption process (for the Lord blesses those who pay their tithing) and find children who don’t have any parents to look after them. Ginny and Andrew had waited for 4 years in foster care for someone to take them home, but they were already 6 and 8, and most parents only want to adopt infants. But now they had two fathers to feed them, clothe them, educate them, and teach them the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I dreamt that we would ask Sister Robinson, who lives next door, if our children could come over to her house often and play with her children. For Adam insisted that they have a mother figure in their lives, which we could not provide. We babysat for Sister Robinson and she for us, and Ginny and Andrew knew they could always trust her.

I dreamt that we would call my brother and ask him to baptize Andrew. My brother has a wife and kids of his own, a temple marriage and full rights to exercise his priesthood. Adam and I are grateful that we can depend on him. Once Ginny turns 8, he’ll come back to baptize her.

I dreamt that Ginny was sick with a fever of 101. Adam called the home teachers, and they were over here quickly. They anointed her head with oil and gave her a blessing. The fever abated, and Ginny could go to school the next day.

I dreamt that the kids came home and asked why we weren’t sealed like the other families at Church were. Adam and I had long prayed and fasted to know how to answer this question. We tell them that by our doctrine, only a mother and a father can be sealed in the eternities. We had to make a difficult decision that meant we wouldn’t be able to go to the Celestial Kingdom. But we still wanted to give our children an excellent home and teach them the Gospel so that they could reach Exaltation. What parent doesn’t want the best for his child?

I dreamt that Andrew turned 12. Adam’s father, close to 70 now, places his hands on Andrew’s head and gives him the Aaronic priesthood. Adam and I couldn’t be happier. We have the priesthood in our home again.

I dreamt that Ginny is 16. She’s getting ready for her first date. Adam is much better at fashion than I am, and he has her looking modestly gorgeous. We sit her down and review the dating standards in For The Strength of Youth. She’s not paying much attention, since her date will be here in 10 minutes, but we want to impress her one last time with these important standards. We trust both her and the boy, but you can never be too careful. Andrew sits in the kitchen and smirks. He got the same treatment two years ago.

I dreamt that Andrew was getting ready for a mission, which we’ve prepared him well for. He’s already intimately familiar with Preach my Gospel. But he’s not sure he can go. He tells us that for a while now he’s suspected that he’s gay, and doesn’t know if he can serve for that reason. I give him a hug. Adam explains that there’s no reason he can’t serve a mission, that both his fathers did. All missionaries are so focused on the work that sexuality isn’t really an issue anyway. When he gets back, he’ll have a difficult choice to make. We go through all the options and explain the consequences of each, the mortal as well as the eternal ones. We tell him that he’ll learn to listen to the Spirit while on his mission, and that God will direct him in the right path, whatever that may look like. Andrew is calmer now. The Spirit is already reassuring him that he’ll be alright. Next month we drop him off at the MTC.

I dreamt that Ginny was getting married. She’d met a boy at BYU, and now she couldn’t be happier. I reach over a grab Adam’s hand. It reminds me of how we first met in our New Testament class at BYU 15 years ago. Andrew will be back from his mission just in time for the wedding. Adam and I wait outside the doors of the Manti temple, imagining the ceremony and talking about how fast our kids have grown. The temple doors open and the whole party comes out. Ginny’s found a good man, someone who will respect her and treat her as the equal partner she is. We couldn’t be prouder.

I dreamt that Andrew eventually decides to tread the path his fathers trod. He doesn’t want to leave the Church, but he doesn’t want to be alone for life either. He’s starts dating men, and Adam and I assure him that we’ll love him no matter what he chooses. But in the end, Andrew decides that he doesn’t want to give up his priesthood or covenants. He starts dating women again and falls consummately in love with Christine (Adam won the bet. He was pretty sure Andrew was bisexual, but I didn’t think so. Guess I’ll be doing the dishes for the next week.) It’s another beautiful temple wedding.

I dreamt that Adam was sick. We’re old now, with many grandchildren. The ward members bring us food and make sure we get to church alright. I know that there’s no sealing to keep us together after this life. We knew that from the beginning, and we accepted the consequences. We had a sweet life together, and one lifetime was enough. I kiss Adam one last time before he breaths his last, smiling.

I had a dream. But mortals dream foolish things.

I dreamt that I was a child of Israel.

I awoke as a Canaanite dog.    

I lick the bread crumbs that have fallen from the table. My masters ignore me.

My puppies are cold and hungry by the dying fire. I don’t have any milk for them. Neither does Adam. I regurgitate the bread crumbs and they lap it up. Adam and I curl up beside them to keep them warm. Faith and Hope flicker on the hearth, sink to embers

and are gone.