There are too many voices telling me that since I don't live up to the Church's standards, I shouldn't even try to be good. I'm not celibate. I'm not married to a woman. I'm in a relationship with a man. I am clearly out of harmony with the clearly stated standards. So if I can't even fulfill the minimum requirement, why even try?
Why go to Church? Why read the scriptures? Why pray? Why seek the guidance of the Spirit -- the Spirit can't possibly bother with me, right? The Spirit should flee right away from the likes of me...
I have listened to those voices before, and they led me in the path of destruction. They led me to do things that hurt me, that hurt others, and that left me in despair.
Those voices insist that they are right, that everyone who disagrees with them is out of step, dead wrong, and destined for the pit.
There is a voice that says exactly the opposite of what those voices tell me. There is a voice that says, You are good. You are loved. Do not listen to those who condemn. They are wrong. Have patience. Be faithful. Look at your life and find just one thing you can make better. Focus on that. And each time you succeed, be glad for yourself. Then take another step.
Thank God I have learned to hear that voice and listen to it. The sheep know the voice of the Good Shepherd, and they follow it.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Walking Together
About a week ago or so, I got an email from Geckoman, a gay Mormon man who's been happily married for 26 years, and is faithful and active in the Church. He was passing through the Twin Cities on a business trip, and was wondering if we might meet.
We did meet. He and I had an opportunity to swap stories in person, tell more about each other's lives and faith and relationships. He had a chance to meet my partner, and the three of us had a lovely dinner together. I love walking, and my favorite part of our get-together was walking together over to the nearby Global Market and back, to pick up and bring home the food we ate for dinner. I loved meeting Geckoman in person. He is kind and soft-spoken. He is handsome and has a sweet smile and a gentle sense of humor. He is not judgmental or dogmatic, and he is generous in his appraisals of others who don't share his faith or his way of looking at things.
In the world we live in, Geckoman and I should maybe be enemies. We've each made choices that should, in the eyes of many, set us at odds against each other. In the eyes of the Church, I am living in a state of sin, while he has made the difficult choice to stay true to Church principles and nurture an eternal marriage, despite the challenge of his attraction to men. In the eyes of the secular, liberal culture that thrives here in the Twin Cities, he is living in a state of denial, not true to his true nature, while I have made the difficult choice of nurturing a committed relationship condemned by Church and denied recognition by the state. In the eyes of the world and Church alike, we are each the antithesis of the other.
And yet, in my interactions with him on-line and in person, I find myself just liking and admiring him, and wanting to be liked and admired by him. There is nothing that pains me more than the thought of anything I say or do adding in any way to his burdens or making him feel any less. I am happy for the happiness he has found; I respect him for the struggles he's been through. I hope he feels the same about me. If he feels that I am somehow less because of the choices I've made, I never felt the least hint of it.
So which is the real truth of things? What Church and State and worldly culture say about us? Is that what really matters? Or is the brother-love we share the deeper truth? Is that somehow the real key to happiness?
We did meet. He and I had an opportunity to swap stories in person, tell more about each other's lives and faith and relationships. He had a chance to meet my partner, and the three of us had a lovely dinner together. I love walking, and my favorite part of our get-together was walking together over to the nearby Global Market and back, to pick up and bring home the food we ate for dinner. I loved meeting Geckoman in person. He is kind and soft-spoken. He is handsome and has a sweet smile and a gentle sense of humor. He is not judgmental or dogmatic, and he is generous in his appraisals of others who don't share his faith or his way of looking at things.
In the world we live in, Geckoman and I should maybe be enemies. We've each made choices that should, in the eyes of many, set us at odds against each other. In the eyes of the Church, I am living in a state of sin, while he has made the difficult choice to stay true to Church principles and nurture an eternal marriage, despite the challenge of his attraction to men. In the eyes of the secular, liberal culture that thrives here in the Twin Cities, he is living in a state of denial, not true to his true nature, while I have made the difficult choice of nurturing a committed relationship condemned by Church and denied recognition by the state. In the eyes of the world and Church alike, we are each the antithesis of the other.
And yet, in my interactions with him on-line and in person, I find myself just liking and admiring him, and wanting to be liked and admired by him. There is nothing that pains me more than the thought of anything I say or do adding in any way to his burdens or making him feel any less. I am happy for the happiness he has found; I respect him for the struggles he's been through. I hope he feels the same about me. If he feels that I am somehow less because of the choices I've made, I never felt the least hint of it.
So which is the real truth of things? What Church and State and worldly culture say about us? Is that what really matters? Or is the brother-love we share the deeper truth? Is that somehow the real key to happiness?
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