I Am Not Your Trigger

I feel the need to call attention to a pattern of destructive behavior that I feel needs to stop immediately. Like all destructive behavior, the only people we ultimately hurt with it is our ourselves. The one I want to talk about is labeling other individuals and their life paths as “triggering.”

Before I can fully address that, I feel I need to discuss a different but related damaging pattern in the church, that I think is at the root of this other problem. I call this pattern of behavior FUBAR, because it is a messing up of the Gospel in a way that makes the Gospel virtually impossible to recognize. Effed up beyond all recognition. And that pattern is when we tell people that there are a bunch of rules that they need to follow, and if they don’t, they are damned. Then we hold up as examples people that we think are following the rules the way we think they need to be followed. And we shame people for not living up to that standard. That is not the Gospel. That is a perversion of the Gospel. That is a distortion of the Gospel that makes it virtually impossible to recognize the Gospel for what it is. The Gospel is, in case we need to name what it actually is, an invitation into a relationship with God, where the only rule is to love him, love others, and love ourselves.

When we start to preach the FUBAR gospel, it creates hierarchies. It inculcates feelings of deep, fatal unworthiness. That’s actually what the gospel is supposed to free us from. But that’s what the FUBAR gospel does. It traumatizes us, and it makes us vulnerable. The FUBAR gospel enlists our own hearts and our own minds against us, making us our own worst haters and critics. This is not the Gospel. Most of the trauma (the the triggers related to that trauma) I’ve observed in the LGBT Mormon community are a result of this very anti-Gospel, antithetical-to-the-Gospel type of behavior that masquerades as the Gospel. Anybody calling themselves a disciple of Christ ought to be on the watch for this and name it and exorcize it the moment we see it.

OK, so let’s talk about triggers. I have triggers. I’m pretty sure everybody has triggers. The important thing about triggers is owning them. My triggers are inside of me. They belong to me. I might be triggered by something that somebody else says or does, or even by some aspect or characteristic of somebody else. (The color of their hair? The timber of their voice? I was once told by somebody that I triggered him because I looked like his ex-boyfriend. OK.) I might be triggered by these things, but these things are not my trigger. My trigger is inside me. It is my own. And I do not ultimately help myself by externalizing it, by making my stuff somebody else’s, by blaming somebody else for the fact that I am triggered. And if something that you say or do or are causes me to be triggered, it’s not up to you to be less of who you are. It’s up to me to do the soul work to figure out what is bothering me and why.

I would never deliberately try to trigger somebody else. That’s just mean. That’s bully behavior. And we certainly see a lot of that. Especially on the Internet. But I want to say that situations that trigger me are actually some of the most important learning situations in my life. They become learning situations when I do the soul work that the triggering prompts me to do.

Soul work is just that. It is work. Work is hard. And sometimes we’re tired. We are too tired to do the work. That is OK. If we’re being triggered by a particular situation or person, it’s OK to pull back a little bit. There’s no shame in it. But be aware that if you are feeling triggered by a person, just because of who they are, or how they are, that is not their fault. It’s OK to call somebody on bullying behavior. That’s one thing. But but it’s not OK to label another person triggering.

OK, so back to our individual paths in life. One of the things that I love about being a Latter-day Saint is that I chose to be one. I am excommunicated, so I don’t get any brownie points for studying the scriptures, praying, for living the Word of Wisdom, for going to church on Sunday. I do all those things not so I can keep a temple recommend, not so I can please my husband or our son (who I think would find it an enormous relief if I would just let go of this Mormonism thing). I do these things for the connection I feel with God and with the Spirit as I do them. I embrace Mormonism because the doctrine and the teaching help me to understand my world a lot better. They help me to put the adversity I experience, including the adversity of homophobia, in perspective. Mormonism teaches me that I am made of the same stuff as God, and that there is a glorious future awaiting me, and all that is made possible by the struggles and the challenges and even the suffering that I experience in this life. My religion makes me happy. It makes me whole. And it roots me in a community! A community which is blessedly imperfect! A community that occasionally wounds me, and even triggers me! A community that allows me ample opportunities to do the soul work that allows my God potential to shine through.

There’s nothing about my path as a gay Mormon that I feel ashamed of, or that I see any reason to hide under a bushel. And if I am not going to be in the closet about being a gay man and loving another amazing, beautiful man who has been my life partner through the twenty-five best years of my life, I sure as HELL am not going to go into the closet about being a Mormon. I sure as hell am not going into the closet about claiming any aspect of my faith as part of me and as part of my journey.

I am not your trigger, and I am not your role model either. Don’t take my path as a sign that anything you are doing is inadequate or wrong. That's the FUBAR gospel. Just because I go to church doesn’t mean you should be going to church. The only "should" in your life is what you are doing right now, which for the majority who are reading this who are LGBT, is probably not going to church. Unless you decide differently! And that’s the whole point. It needs to come from within you, whatever you do. If there’s any aspect of me that you want to take as a role model, Let it be that. Not that I’m going to church! But that I’ve come to where I am today, to a place of profound peace and happiness, because I listened to my heart. Because I did what I knew I needed to do. I left the church for 19 years, and I did that because that was what was in my heart to do. And when I came back, it wasn’t because I had some nagging sense that I’d been neglecting some duty for 19 years. It’s because I knew that that was the right thing for me to do here and now.

In terms of our relationship with the church, in terms of our decisions about whether or how to be related to a significant other, you and I might be completely opposite of each other. But we could both equally be role models in our authenticity. Parenthetically, that’s what I think is admirable, or praiseworthy, about Josh Weed. Not that he was in a mixed orientation marriage. Not that he’s now chosen to end his marriage. Neither of those things did I ever see as praiseworthy in and of themselves. But that he listens carefully to his heart, and he’s willing to change course when that’s where his heart leads, in that way, I want to be just like Josh when I grow up.

Speaking of Josh, I keep hearing people say things like, “I don’t care what decisions he makes for his personal life, but he should just shut up about it. He shouldn’t put himself out there as a role model.” I’ve heard the same thing said about Tom Christofferson, or Ty Mansfield, by folks who’ve left the church, and I’ve heard it ad nauseum on the church side about folks who have left the church. “They leave the church, but they can’t leave it alone! And if they want to leave the church, why don’t they just leave and keep it to themselves?” That’s bullying behavior. On both sides, that’s bullying and that’s shaming. That’s telling people that they need to go into the closet about some aspect of themselves. They can’t share their path or their journey with us.

Well, I reject that. I’m here to say that they can and should. I want to hear their stories, even (maybe especially) the ones that trigger me. Our stories are sacred! Our stories are our holy text, they are our scripture! There’s no reason why we should be ashamed of our stories, and there’s no reason why we should have to hide them under a bushel. There’s no reason why we should protect others from our lives, from who we are. Let’s protect that which is sacred within us! Let’s protect and hold sacred our journey, and protect and hold sacred our triggers as well! That’s part of the path! Let’s do the soul work that we need to do when we are able, and rest when we need to.

And if we can find it in our hearts to do this, to be authentic, to be fully who we are, without holding any of it back, and embrace others and support others in doing the same, no matter how different their individual choices and lives may look from ours, we will find the deepest and best possible kind of holy unity, happiness and peace it is possible to find.

And at some point, we'll stop being triggered... We'll just be whole and happy and well learned in the divine intricacies of this sacred journey of life.

Repentance / Forgiveness

A key moment in my spiritual journey came during a sacrament meeting talk in my ward given by a visiting high councilman. It was probably the second or third Sunday attending my LDS ward after about 19 years away from the Church. I had returned in response to a prompting from the Spirit, but I was still feeling very conflicted about my relationship with the Church.

The high councilman gave a talk on forgiveness, and by the end of the talk, tears were streaming down my face. The Spirit had not only testified of the truthfulness of what he was saying, but had also told me the specifics of how I needed to apply the principles of his talk in my life. I needed to forgive the Church.

In the years leading up to my near suicide in 1986 I was harmed by teachings about homosexuality that have since been recognized as wrong and have been disavowed by Church leaders. I was harmed by Church leaders who had counseled me and and disciplined me without knowledge. I was harmed by family and friends who didn't stand by me, some who had turned against me, when they should have listened to me and tried to understand. As a result of the harm I experienced, but for the grace of God, I might not have survived to tell this story. Many haven't survived the harm. And no one in a position of authority in the Church has ever formally acknowledged the harm, much less apologized for it.

The idea that I could forgive the Church was revolutionary for me. Part of the revelation was my realization that forgiveness was much more about the one doing the forgiving than it was about the one being forgiven. Forgiving would allow me to become whole. It allowed me to let go of a burden of anger I had bowed under for far too long. It also opened up possibilities of receiving and being transformed by forgiveness for the wrongs I had committed in my life. (Forgiveness is a two-way street: Until I could forgive, it would be impossible for me to truly believe there were situations where I might need to be forgiven or that forgiveness of my sins might be possible.) I didn't need to wait for a formal apology to benefit from the gift of forgiveness. The tears flowing down my face in that Sacrament meeting were tears of relief and joy. I let that burden go. I left it at the Savior's feet and I have never looked back.

What I also realized in that moment, thanks to the teaching power of the Holy Spirit, is that forgiveness is an ever-flowing fountain. I realized that I could forgive not only past transgressions, but all future ones as well. I could choose never to take offense at wrong, but instead to focus on creating a zone of understanding and connection. I trusted that future knowledge would create future repentance and repentance could heal every harm, past, present and future. That realization has transformed my whole life.

Some Church members reading this might be offended at the notion that the Church is something that could ever need forgiveness from anyone. I guess there are different ways of defining "the Church." If we look at the Church as the teaching and practice of the pure and unsoiled Gospel of Jesus Christ, then of course the Church could never be "forgiven." The pure Gospel is itself a call to repentance (and forgiveness). But if the Church is also its mortal, imperfect members and leaders feeling their way forward the best they can, then forgiveness will of necessity be part of the path of becoming a Zion people.

In this Christmas season I ask forgiveness of some of my fellow LGBT Mormons and ex-Mormons. Many have felt invalidated by me. I don't always talk about every aspect of my spiritual journey, including the part of my spiritual journey that included a recognition of wrongs committed in the name of Christ and under the authority of the priesthood that might require a process of repentance and forgiveness. Your anger is not only understandable, but maybe even righteous. The harm and your need for healing deserve recognition.

Never let any aspect of my story be used to make you feel like you are the ones somehow in the wrong. In the matter of the ways in which a combination of bad science and bad doctrine have led to misunderstanding and mistreatment, sometimes by those who were most under an obligation to try to listen and understand, there's no excuse.

And you are entitled to forgive when you are ready, when your path of healing from the trauma you have experienced allows it. You are not wrong and I somehow right in this matter. Our paths are individual and unique and equally God-led toward ends that God only knows.

I am grateful for my many, many friends in the Church who have experienced a bright light coming on in the darkness around LGBT issues, shining understanding on sins of commission and sins of omission. Many of you have conscientiously began to work, in both open as well as quiet, behind-the-scenes ways to right wrongs and heal hurts. Please keep up the good work.

In this season when so many hearts in the world pray for peace, I add my prayers to theirs, and I pray for the gift of forgiveness that makes peace possible.

In Jesus' holy name, Amen.

Love Conquers All

The much anticipated day arrived in my ward.

It began with Fast and Testimony meeting, which consisted mostly of members of the ward sharing some of their trials and struggles, and which ended with my sense that their testimonies of the Gospel were essential in helping them get through them. A young man shared his testimony of prayer, which revolved around an experience of a successful fishing expedition. A bit humorous, but it reminded me of the Apostle Peter, hauling so many fish into his boat that it almost capsized. In this case it was just one, good, healthy sized bass. A sister shared her testimony of eternal life, in light of her mother's death, which took place at 3 a.m. this morning. Church, surrounded by brothers and sisters who love her, is where she needed to be today, even with a loss so recent and feelings so raw.

In Sunday School, Brother B. from the Sunday School presidency arrived to make sure we arranged the chairs into a smaller, more circular configuration, so we could converse with each other more intimately. In a small group discussion, Sister S. and I discussed Mark 14:32-42 with each other. We talked about the difficulties of keeping watch with the Savior, even when we are not facing the imminent tragedy the disciples were facing in the Garden of Gethsemane. (In Luke it says they were "sleeping for sorrow.") Our conversation actually helped me. Sister S. helped me.

After Sunday School, her daughter M. came up to me and wanted to talk. She had seen my interview for the Far Between project on line. We talked for a while about Far Between and about Kendall Wilcox, and about my story. The subtext of the conversation was her love and concern for me and for others in my situation, and anguish about the predicament we find ourselves in in relation to the Church. She got a bit teary. I found myself reassuring her. "This is a great ward," I said, "Bishop C. is a great guy. This is going to be OK."

We went into the chapel and found our places. I sat down behind Sister J. and a sister I've never been formally introduced to, but whose testimony I admire, and whose missionaries stories shared in Sunday School have been an inspiration to me. They saw me sitting down, and smiled and reached out to me. They asked what I had been up to, and I briefly shared my experiences at Affirmation conferences in South America and Europe. They were very interested in what I had to say. More love, radiating in their smiles. The sister whose-name-I-don't-know-yet expressed her gratitude for the Supreme Court ruling. She expressed her happiness for me and Göran.

The meeting was called to order. We sang "Lead Kindly Light." I felt the words deeply. It was the right hymn for this moment:

The night is dark and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet;
I do not ask to see
The distant scene-- one step enough for me.

Bishop C. seemed a little nervous. He prefaced the reading of the letter by acknowledging that many members of the ward are struggling with this issue. He said he had met individually with members "across the spectrum" on this issue. He acknowledged that some were struggling with the Supreme Court ruling, some with the Church's response to the ruling. Then he read the letter.

After he had finished reading it, he bore his testimony of the doctrine of the plan of happiness. He shared his sense that the central thing here is to understand "God’s eternal plan for the salvation and exaltation of His children," that this was the key thing. I felt the Spirit, reaffirming that I have a place in that plan.

Then he opened the forum up for questions. Then, he paused to remind people that the purpose of the forum was not to discuss doctrinal issues. He encouraged individuals to approach him one-on-one if they had those sorts of questions. Then he opened it up for questions again.

Not a single person raised their hand. Bishop C. waited maybe fifteen seconds to see if a hand was raised, and when none was, he called the meeting to a close. But not until Elder Rulon Stacey of the Quorum of the Seventy (a member of our ward, and presiding at the meeting) offered his testimony that everything our bishop had told us was true.

After church, Bro. H., a member of the bishopric, chatted with me outside in the parking lot. He chuckled when I pointed out that the bishop hadn't allowed much time for hands to rise. But we both agreed that we didn't expect a lot of questions. I felt prompted to share what was in my mind.

I said that while there was seeming clarity in the doctrine of which the Bishop and Elder Stacey bore testimony, I am force to live in a world of unresolved issues. If my relationship of almost 23 years with my husband is sinful, why has it brought us so much joy? Why have I learned so many positive lessons from it, from being a husband and a father? Why, when I've prayed about it, have I felt blessed by the Lord in that relationship? I have a testimony of the Gospel. I can't deny it. It's why I'm here at church, why I been coming for almost 10 years now, why I'm living as much of the Gospel as I can.

I said that the contradiction I felt in listening to the presentation today isn't new. It's a contradiction I've been aware of every day of my life since I've been active in the Church again. I don't have an answer to that question. All I know is that I have a testimony, I am where I'm supposed to be.

He said he knew I had a testimony; that my testimony has strengthened his testimony.

I said I did have some sense in which this situation is part of the Lord's plan for perfecting his Church, and it's for us to love one another and stay faithful and learn what we need to learn.

Odd, but as I left I realized that I think everybody else in my ward was more nervous about today than I was. I've been practicing walking through this fire for ten years, and they're only just starting. It was reassuring to me. I no longer feel so alone in this. There are others in the Church who are now starting to wrestle with some of the contradictions I've had to live with my whole life. And the one thing that is crystal clear to me is that they want to do it in a way that is utterly harmonious with the highest principle of the Gospel: Love.

I think we're going to figure this out together.

For the Days and Weeks Ahead

I'm blessed to have a husband who still loves me like crazy more than two decades after we first started to build a life together. We have family who love us like crazy: parents, siblings, nephews and nieces, and a vast extended clan of uncles, aunts, cousins, in-laws; and an amazing foster son who's grown up to be an amazing young man, and his husband and his husband's family. We have so much family to love and to cherish!

I love my life. And I love the beauty of the world around me. The trees and the flowers all around our neighborhood. The way our cats meow at us outside the bedroom door early in the morning. The way my breakfast tastes! I love the poignancy and the nuance and the amazing intricacy of everything in my life. And I love the sense of purpose that has gradually unfolded at the heart of my life.

I love my faith. I love that it teaches me to look up and beyond our temporal horizons toward eternity. I love that it teaches me to trust that there is Good waiting to receive us, beyond the vicissitudes of life and beyond the pain and the heartbreak of death. I love that even in my darkest hours, my faith is there shining bright, giving me hope, showing me that all defeats are only temporary if we just love.

This is a tense moment for a lot of people I know and love in the LGBT Mormon community. In the wake of the Supreme Court ruling making same-sex marriage legal throughout the U.S., the LDS Church has sent a letter to be read in congregations either this coming Sunday or the following Sunday.

There is nothing new in the letter, with one possible minor exception. This letter is the first one I've seen that explicitly states that Church officers may not use their ecclesiastical authority to perform same-sex weddings, and same-sex weddings may not be held on LDS Church property. I guess it's a reasonable clarification, given that under the law now LDS bishops throughout the United States could perform such marriages on or off Church property. Was that statement, perhaps, also an acknowledgment that there might be a growing number of bishops who would be willing to perform such marriages?

The supplemental materials at the end of the packet concluded with this very interesting statement:

Members who . . . have doctrinal questions should make a diligent effort, including earnest prayer and scripture study, to find solutions and answers themselves. Church members are encouraged to seek guidance from the Holy Ghost to help them in their personal lives and in family and Church responsibilities.

If members still need help, they should counsel first with their bishop. If necessary, he may refer them to the stake president. “. . . Stake presidents who need clarification about doctrinal or other Church matters may write in behalf of their members to the First Presidency.” 

I suspect that indeed growing numbers of Latter-day Saints will have doctrinal questions. And this advice is Mormonism at its best. Pray, study, and seek the guidance of the Holy Ghost. And then follow what the Holy Ghost tells you. And feel free to ask questions. Does anybody read this differently?

I think the most interesting word, doctrinally speaking, in the entire statement is the word "happiness." I think that word is going to be the grit in peoples' shoes as the membership of the LDS Church continues to seek understanding about this issue. Because here is what I know.

Happiness -- deep joy, in fact! -- thrives in families built on the marriage of a man and a man, or a woman and a woman. When two people learn to love each other and care for each other, and then that love expands to care for others besides just the two of them, there is no greater joy. And the gender of the individuals seems to have little to do with the capacity for happiness in that setting. This is verifiable. It's very obvious to Church members who happen to know deeply happy gay and lesbian couples. It will become more and more obvious to more and more members of the Church.

My relationship with my husband does not "deprive" me "of the blessings that can be found in family life." It has granted me rich access them! It would be conformity to the Church's expectations on this score that would deprive me of those blessings. I suspect that is why, in my ten years of activity in the Church, no Church leader has ever counseled me to leave my husband. In a recent interview with my stake president, he reassured me that this was not his or the Church's agenda. His exact words to me were: "The Church is not in the business of breaking up families."

I think my Church leaders would have taken a completely different tack with me if my relationship with my husband was a source of unhappiness. And if my relationship with Göran made me unhappy, it would be relatively easy for me to heed advice to end the relationship. The fact that this is not the case for me, nor for many thousands of other gay and lesbian couples, is the grit in the sandals if you must assert categorically that relationships such as ours cannot give joy because they fall in that category of "sin."

The statement says "All visitors are welcome to our chapels and premises so long as they respect our standards of conduct while there." OK, I'm excommunicated. I guess that makes me a visitor. "We affirm that those who avail themselves of laws or court rulings authorizing same‐sex marriage should not be treated disrespectfully. Indeed, the Church has advocated for rights of same‐sex couples in matters of hospitalization and medical care, fair housing and employment, and probate, so long as these do not infringe on the integrity of the traditional family or the constitutional rights of churches." I'm glad the Church I claim as my own says it will not disrespect me, and that it will stand with me in defending at least some legal rights that protect me and my husband. "We should . . . be good listeners." I want to be a good listener.

I have said my relationship with my husband gives me joy. But I can also say that in the absence of faith I think it could not give me nearly as much joy as it does give me. It is my love for God, and the fact that he has sought me out and invited me into relationship with him, and that I have sought him in turn, that has given me a perspective on my relationship with my husband magnifying a thousand fold the potential for joy in it. I cherish my husband and I cherish our love all the more because I understand who we are and what is the nature of our souls!

My obedience to God includes staying in relationship with a Church where there is little understanding of what it actually means to be gay. That's OK! I find joy in that particular journey. It keeps me humble. It keeps me on my knees. It keeps me close to God.

But I'm blessed. For many others, this will be a challenging time. A time to learn patience and prayer and lots and lots and lots of love? I time to learn how to seek out and rely upon the Holy Spirit?

It's part of the journey, a journey I am most glad to be on.

On Being a Gay Mormon Missionary

A talk given at the ALL Conference, Mesa, AZ, Saturday, April 25, 2015

I became aware of my attraction to other boys my age at about the age of 10. When I was fourteen, after looking up the word “homosexual” in the dictionary, I finally had a word to describe what I felt. I occasionally wonder how my life would have been different if I had felt able to trust my parents and Church leaders enough to share my internal struggles with them. Stuart Matis, the gay grandson of Henry Matis, whom my grandfather helped convert to the LDS Church, confided in his parents and Church leaders, and his life ended tragically, in suicide. In any event, I kept my feelings a closely guarded secret for the next 10 years of my life, hoping that through prayer and personal righteousness I could overcome them. Nobody ever asked me if I had such feelings, though wondering if I should have confessed them became a major source of worry in my life.

As a youth, there wasn't anything I wanted to do more fervently than to be a missionary. When I was sixteen years old, members of my Priests Quorum were given the opportunity to serve a “mini-mission.” I was called to Binghamton, NY, living and working with the full time missionaries. I was amazed by their courage and boldness in inviting total strangers to learn about the Gospel. I felt the Spirit as we taught and bore testimony to investigators. I felt a deep love for the individuals we taught, and a yearning to see them accept the Gospel and be baptized and let it change their lives for the better. After my mini-mission, I wanted more, so the young men's leaders in my home ward in Pittsford, NY encouraged me to go on regular splits with the missionaries, which I did as often as I could until I began my own mission in the fall of 1982.

In high school, I gave signed copies of the Book of Mormon to all my friends, and to teachers and acquaintances whom I loved and respected. I invited a number of my closest friends in high school to receive the missionary discussions. One of my best friends, Bill McAlister, accepted my invitation the summer I was home from my first year at BYU, as I was preparing to leave for my mission. His mom was not thrilled about him investigating the LDS Church, so he met with the missionaries at my home, in my bedroom, and I was present as he received the discussions. I fasted and prayed with the missionaries the week before they challenged him to be baptized, and I wept tears of joy when he accepted. Shortly before reporting to the Missionary Training Center in Provo, I had the privilege of baptizing him. Bill and I are still friends. Bill got married when I was starting grad school, and has since had several wonderful children. And he is still an active, faithful member of the Church, for which it is hard to adequately describe how grateful I feel.

At the age of 19 I had never acted on my feelings of “same-sex attraction” and was worthy to serve a mission. Initially, one of the more distressing challenges of being a full-time missionary had to do with living in very close quarters with other young men to whom I was attracted. A moment of truth for me was on my first night in the mission field. At the end of the day, as was customary then in the mission field, my companion and I stripped down to our undergarments, sat down at the small dining table in our one-room apartment and prayed and studied the scriptures together. I was very aware, as we were doing this, of how attractive I found him. It did not help that praying and studying together made me feel emotionally and spiritually close to him as well. After praying for the night, the lights went out and we each went to our cots. Unable to sleep, I wept tears of discouragement. After my companion had fallen asleep, I slipped out of bed and to my knees. I cried out to God in distress: I thought I would be over this by now! Should I call my mission president and resign and go back home? How could I serve Jesus Christ, and still have these inappropriate feelings? In my distress, the Spirit comforted me. The Lord spoke to me. I did represent him, and I could do this. A sense of calm descended. The Lord accepted my offering, and had confidence in me.

At that point, that was all I really needed to know. For the rest of my mission, I continued to be aware of my feelings of attraction toward my companions, but it didn't bother me. My last companion in the mission field, an Elder Jensen, had a disquieting habit of kicking all his clothes off while he slept at night, and popping out of bed in the morning naked as the day he was born, imitating the Incredible Hulk. (Flexing his muscles and growling: “Grr! Arrgh!”) It didn't bother me. I just accepted my feelings, let them go, and focused on bringing souls to life-changing faith in Jesus Christ. I had a deep love and respect and gratitude for each of my companions.

Toward the end of my mission I was called as the president of a small branch in southern France, which gave me a deep appreciation of the challenges involved in pastoral ministry. During my mission, I had five baptisms, which was five times the mission average at that time. Two of these individuals went on to serve missions themselves, one in French Caledonia and the other in the Paris mission.

In retrospect, I think I served a very successful mission. But at the time I felt discouraged. I felt I hadn't accomplished enough. I continued to struggle with deep feelings of unworthiness. But there was one very precious thing that I brought back with me from my mission, that has laid a foundation for my life ever since, and that was a deepened commitment to being compassionate with others. My mission really taught me patience. It taught me the value of sacrifice. It taught me how to love.

After my mission, things got more and more difficult for me. My one last great hope had been that if I served a mission, the Lord would remove my same-sex attraction, but I was finding it stronger than ever. In the wake of a devastating depression that nearly led to my suicide, I resigned my membership in 1986. During my time away from the Church I met my husband Göran and we built a life together. Then, to my surprise, in 2005, almost 19 years to the day that I resigned from the Church, I had a very powerful spiritual experience that led me to return to the Church again. Though the Spirit had guided me to attend the LDS Church, and renewed my testimony of the Gospel, it also prompted me to deepen my commitment to my husband. Göran and I were legally married in 2008. This summer we will celebrate our 23rd anniversary as a couple. Though I remain excommunicated from the Church, I actively attend my ward, and live as much of the Gospel as I can, given the constraints of my status. I cannot pay tithing or fast offerings, I cannot pray in ward meetings or give talks or hold callings, or go to the temple. I can live the Word of Wisdom, practice the principle of chastity in my relationship with my husband, attend meetings, study the scriptures, pray in secret and in my heart always, engage in service, assist in genealogical research, and do many other things of my free will to help build up the Kingdom of God.

I try to visit my family in Utah at least once a year and sometimes more often. And when I do, I attend church with my parents. One Sunday I was attending my parents' ward, when a brother stood up and made some extremely homophobic comments. The things he said were very upsetting to me, so upsetting I was on the verge of getting up and leaving. But the Spirit stopped me. It reassured me, and told me that this brother didn't know what he was talking about when he spoke about gay people. There was no reason for me to feel bad, because I was where I was supposed to be, and the Lord was very pleased with me. So I stayed.

Later that same Sunday, this same brother gave the lesson in priesthood meeting, and he said something that changed my life. He said: “It only takes a few minutes to perform all the saving ordinances that an individual needs in order to enter the Celestial Kingdom. But it takes a lifetime to become the kind of person who can abide a celestial glory. You can have all the ordinances, but if you haven't become that kind of person, all those ordinances won't help you in the next life. But you can lack the ordinances, and if you spend your life becoming a Christ-like person, the ordinances can be added later.” This brother had just shown me what the road-map of my life needed to be. I needed to work at becoming Christ-like enough that, someday, when I was able to receive the ordinances, I would be ready for that celestial life. I was so glad that the Spirit stopped me from walking out of Church that day, and so grateful to the Lord for delivering that message to me through a brother I never would have imagined I'd be able to learn from.

Some time after I had started attending Church, I felt a prompting to pray for the missionary work. At the time, I said to myself, Wait a minute. Do I really hope for the Church to grow? It seemed to me that the majority of Mormons had serious misconceptions about homosexuality, and had very negative and false stereotypes about what it meant to be gay. And I wondered if the growth of the Church would make it easier for such negative stereotypes and misconceptions to spread. Maybe the growth of the Church would be very bad for gay people – in much the way that the growth of Evangelical Christianity in Uganda has been disastrous for gays in that part of the world.

I pondered this question very seriously, and as I did, here is what the Lord told me. The Lord reminded me of his tremendous love for me and of his great gift of forgiveness to me for all my various sins of pride and anger and being judgmental of others, and what a relief it was for me to feel forgiven of all those sins. And the Lord reminded me of all the blessings he had poured out on me, including the blessing of a loving husband who has brightened my life and brought me so much joy and has been a companion to me in all the various challenges we've faced together. Then the Lord reminded me that the Church belonged to him, not to human beings. It was his Church and he would guide it and prepare it and sanctify it so that all its sins and imperfections would be purified away, until the Church was ready to receive Christ at his coming. And if I knew of God's great love for me and if I knew of all the ways in which he had blessed me and my husband, then surely I must know that in his plan for the Church, there would always, always be a place for me and my husband, and that the spread of his Church, far from being bad for gays, would make a world that is far, far better for gays and for all God's children, whatever their sexual orientation, race, gender or other aspects of who we are. And the Lord promised to bless me in even greater ways than I had heretofore imagined if I could find it in my heart to exercise faith and do whatever I could to support the missionary work in whatever way I could – through prayer, by bearing my testimony, and in whatever other ways I might be called.

One of the things I have learned since then is that a person's attitudes toward their LGBT brothers and sisters can be transformed in a few short minutes. All it takes is new information and a slight shift of perspective, and homophobia can be cured. But the Gospel makes us into a certain kind of people that it takes a lifetime to bring to fruition. The Gospel teaches us faith and hope and self-sacrifice. Serving a full-time mission for the Church taught me self-sacrifice. If we don't understand the principle of sacrifice, we will never truly understand what it means to love in the way that Christ loves us. A person can be homophobic, but if they learn how to love, once the scales of homophobia are removed from their eyes, they will love us far better than someone who was not homophobic, but never learned the value of sacrifice. This is why we need the Church to grow, and why we need to be a part of the Church, and why we need to learn to live the Gospel ourselves.

You see, this same brother who taught me this beautiful lesson about why I need to not worry about my status in the Church, and worry more about the kind of person I am becoming also taught me this lesson about homophobia. About two years ago, I was attending Church with my dad. And this same brother who had gotten up one day in Sunday School a few years ago and gone on a homophobic rant that almost caused me to get up and walk out of the Church, that same brother stood up in Priesthood meeting and to my and my father's astonishment confessed that many in the Church have misunderstood and have needlessly rejected our lesbian and gay brothers and sisters (he used the words “lesbian and gay”!), and he then made an impassioned plea for greater understanding. You see, this brother understood love. He understood the Gospel. He just hadn't understood gays. And once that last thing was fixed, so many other wonderful, amazing things could fall into place.

One of the things I realized about missionary work is that it was one of those things I could engage in even as an excommunicated member of the Church. Besides the fact that anyone can pray for the full-time missionaries and leaders of the Church, missionary work is basically about bearing our testimonies, which we do both through words and through actions. I prayed not just for the missionaries, but prayed for the Lord to give me opportunities to bear my testimony.

In the ten years since then, the Lord has given me numerous opportunities to participate in the missionary work. I know of five individuals who are members of the Church today, who sought out the Church, or who found ways to resolve challenges they faced in becoming members of the Church, because of my testimony. I want to share one of these stories.

I am friends with another brother who, like me, was excommunicated from the Church. For some reason, he gravitated toward me. He was certain he had known me from before, though as far as I knew the first time we'd ever met was in our ward. He wondered if he knew me from the preexistence. He wrestled with many issues in the process of returning to Church membership, and we met regularly for lunch to talk and support one another. This brother is African American, so among other things he wrestled with the Church's history in relation to race and priesthood ordination. At one point he told me he couldn't be rebaptized. I asked him why, and he said he was mad about some things the bishop had said to him about standards of dress and grooming; he didn't understand why smoking pot was a violation of the Word of Wisdom; and so on. I listened patiently and when he was done, I said: “If the only thing standing between me and membership in the Church was not smoking weed and not getting upset about something my bishop said to me about how to dress, it would be a no brainer.” The day he was re-baptized was a day of profound joy for me. It helped me to envision a day when I would experience that as well.

Later, we went on a trip to Utah together. While we were there, he was exposed to some information about LDS Church history on the Internet that he found disturbing. We went for a mountain hike together, and he told me he had lost his faith. He literally cried on my shoulder, soaking my shirt with tears that flowed like a river. He said he had no choice but to leave the Church because it was nothing but a fraud. I told him: “There are good answers to every single question that troubles you. Don't do anything drastic until you've had a chance to look at this from all angles, and think about this a bit more.” In the weeks that followed, we continued to talk, and eventually he found the resolutions he needed to the issues that concerned him, and he came through with a stronger testimony than ever. I think the joy I felt some time later as he bore a renewed and strengthened testimony on Fast Sunday was greater than it had been at his baptism. It's not just about the baptism, it's about finding the faith to go forward every day of our lives.

About a year ago, my friend asked me to accompany him on his first visit to the temple. I went and waited in the lobby of the temple, while he received his endowments. It was a very sacred time for me, and I had some profound conversations with members of my ward there, and a very sacred spiritual experience.

I know through these and other experiences of sharing my testimony and strengthening others in their decision to join the Church that the Lord “loves his children,” that “all are alike” unto him, that he is “mindful” of me and that he numbers me, and that his bowels are full of mercy. I know I belong to his kingdom, and I know I will belong to his Church someday. It may take time, but as my Stake President recently said to me in an interview I had with him, “What is time unto the Lord?”

Individuals today are coming out publicly at younger and younger ages. In the generation that preceded mine, it was not uncommon for individuals never to come out publicly. I came out at the age of 24. Göran's and my son Glen came out when he was 14 years old. I think this is generally a good thing, though it seems to add certain challenges in relation to Church activity and service, especially in relation to serving a full-time mission.

If a gay or lesbian youth were to ask my advice about whether to serve a mission for the Church or not, here is what I would say. I would say: You still have plenty of time to make all the very important decisions you need to make about relationships. I know you are wrestling with questions and doubts and fears that your heterosexual peers may never fully understand. But right now – at least for the next few years – you can live the standards of the Church. I won't downplay the challenges of a mission, and it's a serious commitment that no one should take lightly. Even if you wanted to serve, if you are open about your sexual orientation with your leaders, you might not be permitted to serve, depending on your leaders. But if you are able to serve and if you are permitted to serve, if your heart is in the right place and if you go for the right reasons, your mission can provide a foundation for your life and your relationship with God and can bring you and those whose lives you touch unimaginable joy. I know that despite my many dark nights of the soul when I feared that I could not successfully respond to the call to service I had received from Jesus Christ, with his help I was ultimately able to do it, and I have never ever regretted it.

If we are not able serve a full-time mission, we should not think ourselves less. But anyone who loves the Lord and has a testimony can be a missionary. There are many things I don't know about why things are the way they are. But what I do know is that the membership of the Church does not have to be purified of every last vestige of homophobia in order to provide us a marvelous context for growth and for the Lord to bless us through his restored priesthood. The Church is on a journey in which the Lord himself is the guide. I know that my situation and my status in life do not have to be ideal in order for the Lord to claim me as his own and bless me, and for me to grow and prepare for eternal life. It's not about having the perfect situation and having all our ducks in a row, in the way we think is perfect. It's about honoring the Lord's plan, which encompasses destinies for us that go much farther than we can see. It's about faith.

In the name of Jesus Christ,

Amen

The Mantle

A member of my ward, Rulon Stacey, was called and sustained at General Conference as a new member of the Quorum of the Seventy. This past Sunday, he attended Church with us at his home ward. He sat on the stand with the bishopric and presided at the meeting.

It was a pretty normal sacrament meeting. The president of the elder's quorum and his wife gave very moving talks on baptism and the baptismal covenants. Then our bishop stood up to bear his testimony. Then Sister Stacey came to the stand and bore her testimony. Then Elder Stacey stood up and bore his testimony.

The things shared were very personal and very poignant. It felt sacred to me, nothing I would share here on my blog. I felt honored to be in that space at that time to hear him share with us some very intimate feelings and experiences Elder Stacey and his wife shared in relation to his call. It felt very much like we, the members of his ward, had been included in their family circle. The Spirit was very present. Some members of my ward were weeping.

I have felt deeply moved since then. That whole day I felt very reflective. My mind kept going back to church and, particularly, to sacrament meeting. I woke up this morning still reflecting on it.

I understand now that the Spirit was so present there that morning to remind us that the bonds of covenant that produced the Church are sacred, that priesthood is real, and that the One whom holders of the priesthood represent lives and is real.

*****

I'm in a difficult space in relation to the Church. Reflecting on the sacredness and the power of that meeting, and of the testimony it gave me of the Church was particularly poignant for me. At some point the weight of it bore down on me, and I cried out in prayer. And the Lord spoke to me. And last night I had a rather peculiar dream which I think was directly related to my internal wrestling.

And here's, bottom line, what I know about the oddity of my situation: The Lord loves me and is pleased with me, and is pleased with the patience I've shown in very difficult circumstances. And there's nothing I need to be ashamed of and nothing I need to worry about, and all will be resolved in due time. I just need to continue to trust in the Lord, to live the Gospel to the best of my ability, and to stay close to the Church.

*****

I think it must be almost impossible to be gay and active in the Church without some special support from God. I think if you don't have that, it's OK to distance yourselves. But believe that the Lord is at work on our behalves, preparing a place for us in the Father's mansion.

You Have to Hear the Music

Because General Conference took place on Easter this year, I was unable to listen to all of it live. My husband decided he wanted to sing in the Easter choir of Lyndale UCC and he, of course, recruited me to sing with him. (Far be it from me to discourage church-going tendencies on his part when the Spirit so move  him!) Our son's husband's family invited us to join them for a family get together revolving around Easter brunch. Sunday was a beautiful day, filled with hymns of praise and gratitude for Christ's victory over death, celebration with family, lots of love and more good food than we could handle. (My mouth is still watering, thinking about Jacky's cheesy potatoes.) If I had been tempted to feel guilty about missing the live broadcasts of those Sunday sessions of General Conference, my mind was put to rest when I finally listened to Russell M. Nelson's closing talk extolling the virtues of time spent with family on the Sabbath.

My preferred way of listening to conference is to gather with my ward at the Lake Nokomis meeting house. They have a wonderful tradition of having conference potluck lunches in between sessions that goes back to the days when people had to travel extremely long distances to get to Church, and didn't want to go home in between sessions. Those potlucks are not to be missed, and I love spending time with my ward family. I feel loved and safe with them. I guess I am lucky to have so much family.

Nevertheless, recorded or live, conference was a powerful experience. After I finished listening to the last session I was filled with peace, that stayed with me the entire evening.

*****

So, I don't think I imagined it.  I didn't count actual numbers of talks, or number of minutes devoted to the subject, but it seemed to me there was more discussion of same-sex marriage at this conference than in any preceding. Talk subjects are assigned only by "impressions of the Spirit," as Elder Oaks put it in his first session talk. So the increasing number of talks explicitly mentioning this subject could mean that "God is trying to tell you something." At the very least, it means that this issue is a growing concern among Church leaders.

I listen very carefully to what Church leaders have to say at conference. If something strikes me as challenging or difficult, I make sure to write it down. I've found in the past that avoiding or ignoring the stuff we don't like generally only postpones an inevitable reckoning. So I prefer to go there, to the hard place, and sit with it and listen.

In looking over my notes from Elder Packer's first session talk, I found I had written an inadvertently rhyming couplet. It could even be a street rap:

Love is not a temptation / I am not a mutation

At moments in conference, I wrestled with the sense that many of our leaders just don't understand same-sex attraction. I wondered if those who were most vocal in speaking about it at conference had actually listened to the experience of LGBT Mormons in a way that wasn't filtered through their pre-existing biases. A lot of my LGBT LDS friends are just getting turned off or are tuning out, and I don't think it's because they're particularly egregious sinners. Some of the folks I know who are most turned off/tuned out are the ones who are actually living all the Church's standards or are in mixed-orientation marriages.

Listening to conference, I had the very puzzling experience of hearing statements that (from my admittedly limited perspective) missed the mark in terms of what it means to be gay, yet finding myself nodding in hearty agreement with the fundamental principles underlying the talk. One of the best examples was Elder L. Tom Perry's talk. Having been involved with the foster care system for a number of years, I am aware that there are forces at work in society, particularly related to substance abuse, sex out of wedlock, and poverty (which, often a factor for single parents, leads to parental absence/neglect). The phrase "disintegration of the family," oft repeated at conference, points to a real phenomenon. Though I'm still not sure how same-sex marriage is implicated in it, or even in the same category with it. In my firsthand experience, same-sex couples who are marrying are shoring up and strengthening disintegrating families. Very often, our marriages are a stable peg in a tent that might otherwise collapse. We take care of kids and aging parents. We show up at family reunions, even when we get distinctly non-welcoming vibes there. We love our families. We married because we believe in commitment and we believe in family. Most married same-sex couples would heartily applaud Elder Perry's words against "the poisonous mentality of temporary." In fact, oddly enough, Elder Perry actually appears to have quoted an article by columnist David Brooks applauding same-sex marriage on the grounds that it represented a voluntary relinquishing of personal freedom in favor of obligation and relationship.

But the puzzling or difficult experiences were there with profound spiritual experiences of reassurance and comfort and that enduring peace.

*****

Last Tuesday (a week ago today!), I met with  my stake president and he ministered to me. Many of the things he said to me have become touchstones for me, things that I remember when I risk feeling discouraged. He did not say anything to me that is out of harmony or out of line with the teachings of our general authorities. To the contrary! But my stake president knows me personally. He spent almost an hour and a half  with  me, asking questions, listening to me, getting to know me better. That means that he could counsel me with a knowledge of the peculiarities of my personal situation. And  he helped give me perspective and hope.

My experience with my stake president combined with my conference experience helped me to understand something fundamental. The ministry of the Church is and was always designed to be personal. That's how Christ ministered. And that's how Christ's ministers minister. That's how my bishop and my stake president have ministered to me.

If I had not had the context of a relationship with Church leaders like my bishop and my stake president, who know my name, who know my husband and our son, who love us and pray for us, I wonder if it wouldn't have been more difficult for me to experience the kind of personal growth that ultimately conference provided for me.

There were key moments in conference, when leaders reiterated specific principles that I had discussed with my stake president, and that made conference much more deeply personal than it might otherwise have been. Consequently, I am so grateful for the whole, entire Church, from the lowliest usher to the Prophet, and everyone and everything in between. And especially, right now, for my stake president. Without going into detail about my discussion with him, I felt it would be appropriate to share those statements in conference that took on special meaning and significance for me thanks to my stake president's ministry to me.

Elder Bednar's entire talk about fear was a balm to me. I loved his insight that our fears are not hushed when leaders tell us not to be afraid, but when leaders teach us correct principles and, embracing those principles, we hush our own fears. As Elder Bednar put it, "Correct knowledge of and faith in the Lord empower us to hush our fears, because Jesus Christ  is the only source of enduring peace." Three things he then said perfectly paralleled things my stake president said to me:

• Ordinances and covenants are the building blocks we use in building on the foundation of Christ
• We should remember and honor sacred commitments
• We should press forward with faith in Christ

I believe in ordinances and covenants with the Lord for the same reason I believe in the importance of marriage as a foundation for my relationship with my husband. We grow through responsibility, commitment, and obligation. I'm still not entirely sure how the covenant thing will work for me in relation to the Church given my personal situation and my excommunicated status, but I have still made "sacred commitments," and I choose to press forward with faith in Christ, for as long as I am able.

Three statements of Elder D. Todd Christofferson also paralleled things my stake president told me and that were particularly comforting to me:

• “Everyone can contribute to the unfolding of the divine plan”
• “When you who bear the heaviest burdens of mortality stand up in defense of God’s plan to exalt his children, we’re all ready to march”
• “The atonement of Jesus Christ has anticipated and in the end will compensate all deprivation and loss for those who turn to him. No one is predestined to receive less than all that the Father has for his children.”

President Uchtdorf eloquently said many things that were moving and helpful, as he so often does. (I could write an entire blog post just on his talk about the grace of God.) But it was his talk in the Priesthood session that touched me most  personally and directly:

• "Many of the things you can count don’t count, and many of the things you cannot count do count"
• "Why do we serve? Why are we here? ...I’m here because I love my Heavenly Father and his son Jesus Christ"

If we serve because of our love for our Heavenly Father, what else is needed?

*****
Wilford W. Anderson I think summed up my experience with conference most beautifully in his story about a Native American elder who taught an ER doctor that "I can teach you to dance, but you have to be able to hear the music."

Without the context of personal ministry I had received from local church leaders who hold the keys to  minister to me, and without an openness to and a desire to learn through the Spirit, I think conference would just have been a (frustrating!) experience of getting dance lessons without the music.

I don't think that's what God intends.

Why I Follow the Word of Wisdom (and other wacky Mormon stuff)

Frequently asked questions

"Why do you think coffee, tea and alcohol are sinful?" 

I don't. 

I'm pretty sure Jesus drank wine. His critics actually called him "a gluttonous man, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners!" (Matt. 11:18/Luke 7:34). 

As I understand it, going around judging people for what they eat or drink (or smoke) is the sin, not eating or drinking or smoking. 

True, some substances can be addictive, and addictive behavior is harmful. But I don't even consider addiction a sin. It's a misfortune. And condemning someone with an addiction as "sinful" is not likely to help them with their addiction.

"Isn't everything OK in moderation?"

Pretty much, yes. Moderation (or the Catholic cardinal virtue of "temperance") is a good motto to live by.

When I did drink alcohol, I for the most part was a responsible drinker. But on occasion I drank too much and behaved badly. I'm glad that by choosing not to drink, I've decreased the likelihood in my life of behaving badly (though it's still quite possible for me to behave badly stone cold sober!).

Occasionally I dine with a group of friends who drink wine or beer with their meal. And sometimes there is an individual in the group who is a recovering alcoholic, or who, for whatever other reason, is uncomfortable drinking alcohol. I feel good about keeping them company, so they don't have to be the only "weird" one at the table. Though, I don't mind being the only weird one at the table! I don't mind being the perpetual "designated driver." 

I don't see this as making me better than anyone else. It's just my choice. It's how I feel most comfortable living. As long as others are comfortable with the choices they're making and how they're living, that's all that really matters to me.

I like the fact that by choosing not to take certain substances I can bear witness that we each get to choose what kind of life we want to live -- even if our choices make us a little eccentric.

"What about the health benefits from drinking wine?"

As I understand it, there is clinical evidence that drinking red wine (and only red wine!) daily does help reduce unhealthy cholesterol, which reduces the likelihood of heart attack and stroke. But I understand you have to drink a glass of red wine every day in order to get this benefit. And you lose the benefit as soon as you stop drinking every day. When I did drink wine, I never drank it that often. I'd have to become a pretty devoted wine-drinker in order to get this health benefit.

One reason I never drank wine daily is because even drinking just a single glass of wine in the evening would make me feel a bit sluggish the next day. That made me decide to save wine-drinking only for the weekend. I actually found that once I gave up alcohol completely I was sleeping more soundly at night, and I had more energy overall. My doctor told me that even minimal wine-drinking has a negative impact on overall energy levels and on muscle strength, and when he learned that I had given alcohol up completely, he congratulated me on making a wise choice.

I'm very concerned about health. I practice yoga daily. I don't own a car, so I do a lot of walking and biking. I eat a balanced diet with lots of grains, vegetables and fruit, and my cholesterol is extremely low... Actually slightly lower than what is recommended to minimize heart attack risk. So... I'll take my chances without the health benefits of daily red wine drinking.

"I understand avoiding drinking and smoking, but coffee, tea, and pop? What are you allowed to drink? And what about chocolate? That has caffeine in it..."

The Mormon "Word of Wisdom" does not specifically name "caffeine" as a substance to be avoided, but "hot drinks," which has been interpreted to mean coffee and tea. So technically, a Mormon can drink all the Coca Cola or Dr. Pepper or Mountain Dew (or eat all the chocolate) he or she wants, and be considered in compliance with the Word of Wisdom. Only coffee and tea are on the no-no list.

First, a word about caffeine... I used to be a serious caffeine junky. When I started working at the law firm where I currently work, there was always free coffee in the lunch room, and it was the good stuff. Really good coffee. So I got into the habit of drinking sometimes as much as five cups a day! Also, the firm had subsidized pop machines in the lunch room, and you could buy a can of pop for 25¢. So when I got tired of coffee, I'd go for a Dr. Pepper or a Mountain Dew. That was a lot of caffeine. And I found I was actually feeling kinda tired and jittery, and wasn't sleeping well.

At some point, I decided to go off it cold turkey. No more caffeine. I suffered from caffeine deprivation headaches for a few days, but eventually found that once my body had made the adjustment to a caffeine-free diet, my energy levels at work were actually higher. An OJ in the  morning, and cold water the rest of the day (and a good night's sleep the night before) actually made me a much more productive worker than all the caffeine I could drink. I still drink caffeinated soda once in a while (maybe once a month). If I'm on a long road trip and I'm feeling drowsy at the wheel, I won't hesitate to buy a bottle of Mountain Dew at a gas station on the way. But I have no desire to let this become a daily thing again.

I love chocolate. Chocoholism runs in the family. My dad's a chocoholic. My mom used to have her own private stash of Fazer chocolates that she had to keep hidden so we kids wouldn't dig into it. My sister's a chocoholic. And so am I. I have found two negative effects from eating too much chocolate. First, a nice piece of dark chocolate in the evening can keep me up till 2 a.m. Also, all chocolate (light or dark) is loaded with calories. When I eat too much chocolate every day, I start putting on more pounds than I'd like. It doesn't matter how healthy the rest of my diet is or how much exercise I get, eating a bag of Cadbury mini eggs every day will do that. Once I actually looked at the caloric content of chocolate and compared it to other foods, I decided that I could still eat chocolate every day, but only in small quantity. As a little treat! Not as a main course! And never near bed time. That keeps me a happy camper.

I should make it clear that my decisions about caffeinated soda and chocolate reflect a desire to be healthy, which follows the spirit of the Word of Wisdom. Since the letter of the Word of Wisdom does not prohibit caffeinated soda or chocolate, my decisions about that stuff would have to reflect my own decisions.

"Then  why won't you drink coffee or tea?"

Because the Word of Wisdom (as currently interpreted by Church leaders) prohibits coffee and tea. This brings us back to the meaning of the Word of Wisdom for me.

Even if there were no caffeine in coffee or tea, and even if there were no known negative effects on health caused by drinking it, I would still not drink it so long as it were prohibited.

For me, there is a symbolic value of following the Word of Wisdom that transcends any possible health benefits. By following the Word of Wisdom, I in essence say that I'm willing to make this small sacrifice (it is, after all, a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things) as a sign of my love for God.

"Can't you have even just one teeny weeny little glass of wine to celebrate some special occasion?"

No.

For the reason I've just given... Because my obedience to the Word of Wisdom has symbolic significance, even drinking an infinitesimally small amount of alcohol (a "symbolic amount"!) on purpose would be breaking it.

I love celebrating special occasions, but please don't feel insulted if I do so with a nice, tasty, non-alcoholic "sparkling" beverage, instead of with wine or champagne. This is important to me.

"But you're excommunicated, so you're not technically bound by Church rules."

That's right. This is my choice. It's one of the ways I can demonstrate my loyalty to God and to the principles of the Church, even if I am excommunicated.

*****

I suspect that the Word of Wisdom as currently practiced in the Church is something for this time and place, and not an eternal requirement. Jesus did, after all, say he would "[drink of the fruit of the vine] with you in my Father’s kingdom" (Matthew 26:29). I look forward to that very special feast.

The 184th Semi-Annual General Conference

Once again, I was able to enjoy every session of General Conference during conference weekend. (Some years I have had to miss sessions and then watch them later in the week.) There is something particularly powerful for me about gathering for conference when the Saints are gathering. 

The Saturday morning session and the Sunday morning session I gathered with other members of my ward at our ward meeting house in south Minneapolis, and participated in the potluck luncheons our ward traditionally holds in between the morning and afternoon sessions. After the potlucks, the introvert in me drove me home where I watched the remaining sessions on my computer. But I was incredibly grateful for interactions with other members of my ward that were sometimes serious, sometimes lighthearted, always genuine and loving. My former Bishop R. Chris Barden (who now lives in a different ward) surprised me with a handshake and a hug. His wife had been an angel of mercy to me on several occasions, including during a very meaningful visit at the hospital after my brain surgery. Tears came to his eyes as I asked him to send my love to his wife, and as he shared with me what it had meant to her to get to know me better.

For good or for ill, more than ever before I also experienced this conference in and through social media. Affirmation leaders committed to monitor social media during conference, so that if there were painful issues Affirmation members were dealing with, we could be there to help process. In general it seems that Affirmation members had a largely positive conference experience. We will be sponsoring a post-conference discussion on line this Wednesday (my birthday!), something that is becoming an Affirmation tradition.

I actually tweeted some of my conference highlights, including:

BKP: the true success of the Gospel will be measured by the spiritual strength of individual members 

Uchtdorf: nourish and encourage all light no matter how bright  

Christofferson: God neither compels nor abandons us 

Neil Andersen: opposition sends seekers of truth to their knees for answers 

Jörg Klebingat: make repentance your lifestyle of choice... and become really good at forgiving! 

Eduardo Gavarret: "I always knew it would be easier to follow the Savior with [my spouse] at my side" 

Holland: Jesus loved the impoverished in an extraordinary way. He was born to two of them. As an adult Jesus was homeless. 

Holland: Don't withhold because you think the poor brought their plight upon themselves 

Holland: The Kingdom of God is coming to deliver the poor. May we be the fulfillment of that prophecy. 

Craig Christensen: a testimony is more like a tree than a light switch  

Dean Davies: caring for the poor and needy is an essential gospel doctrine  

The Law of the Fast: if we want our cries for help to be answered, we must answer the cries of others  

Monson: "Wherever we go, our priesthood goes with us." 

Ballard: Latter-day Saints are always free to ask difficult questions. After all, that's what Joseph Smith did. 

Kacher: "Importance of acting for myself, and not forsaking my agency to others" 

Kacher: "No room for honest inquiry? Ask the young boy (Joseph Smith)." 

A fair amount of commentary on LGBT social media naturally focused on Dallin H. Oaks' talk in the Saturday afternoon session about the First Commandment, and its implication for social engagement on contentious social issues, specifically the issue of same-sex marriage. Many gratefully noted his statement that "we should be persons of goodwill toward all, rejecting persecution… based on…differences in sexual orientation," though some also expressed concern that his continuing denunciation of same-sex marriage might have the opposite effect intended by this statement on many members of the Church. What I found most noteworthy about Elder Oaks' talk were the four words he used to qualify the injunction to "hold out for right and wrong": "as they understand it." A call for humility to accompany any stand based on religious or moral conviction?

Dieter F. Uchtdorf's talk, significantly delivered during the Priesthoood Session, on the human tendency to project faults and flaws on others while failing to look inward was one of the most profound. Our ability to look inward, he taught, is the "key to personal wisdom and lasting change." No one is exempt from the need to daily engage in scripture study, prayer, service and sacrifice. He noted examples in the Church of "outward righteousness" accompanied by distressing signs of inward corruption. "Those who do not want to grow and change," he warned, "may find the Church increasingly irrelevant to their lives." "If our weaknesses remain obscured in the shadows, Christ cannot heal them." He urged members of the Church to use the scriptures and General Conference talks not to condemn others, but as a "mirror" to examine the state of our own soul.

Henry B. Eyring's talk in the third general session was my favorite, because of his nuanced discussion of one of the core doctrines of the Restoration: personal revelation. "Revelation begins, ends and continues," he said, "as we receive personal revelation." Never before have I seen in a conference talk such a strong statement about the right and responsibility of every Church member to seek and receive a personal, "confirming witness" of any and every Church  injunction and teaching. He described seeking personal confirmation as something "we all must [do]." A personal search for and concrete efforts to achieve holiness must also accompany any such search. Charity toward others, letting virtue garnish our thoughts, a personal commitment to studying the word of God and praying daily, were all prerequisites to any successful search for personal revelation. And patience. His talk ended with the blessing, "I pray that you will receive the confirming revelation you need."

Something Pres. Eyring said in his talk came back to me with force at the end of conference. As Pres. Monson said, "I invoke the blessings of Heaven on each of you," the Spirit descended on me with a force that overcame me. I was grateful to be at home, observing conference in private, I was so overcome. I fell to my knees in prayer, sobbing.

"Don't take lightly  the love you feel for the prophet," Pres. Eyring had said. "It is more than just hero worship." I had in that moment an undeniable testimony of God's concrete presence in the world today, represented in this mortal man, subject to all of the frailties and infirmities every human being is subject to.

That testimony, more than any specific words spoken in conference, was and is and will be what matters most to me here and in Eternity.

General Conference: Text and Subtext

My ward has a long-standing tradition of watching General Conference together at our chapel, and then having a potluck luncheon in between the morning and afternoon sessions, Saturday and Sunday. So this year I decided to watch the morning sessions at the chapel with my ward, hang out for the potluck, and then head home to watch the afternoon sessions via the Internet.

Today I'm so glad I did. I have the most excellent ward. While waiting in line for food, a group of us had a stimulating conversation about why School of Rock is a most excellent film. (Highly recommended by a former ward choir director!) Lunch-time conversation began with a discussion of what each of us considered the spiritual highlights of the first session of conference. (I liked Boyd K. Packer's statement that "the success of the Gospel is measured by the spiritual strength of individual members"; D. Todd Christofferson's reflections on the relationship between individual agency and divine grace; and Chi Hong Wong's incredible use of the story of the man afflicted with palsy as an analogy of how the Church works at its best. More about Elder Wong's talk later.) But it progressed from that to light-hearted banter about the merits of certain caffeinated soft-drinks (say, Cherry Coke vs. Dr. Pepper; neither of which anyone seemed to think violate the Word of Wisdom), and whether the Jamaican jerk chicken served at Marla's Caribbean Cuisine qualifies as genuine Jamaican jerk chicken. But I digress... Except to say that even being out in my ward as gay and in a committed same-sex relationship, I feel genuinely loved, included, and respected by every member of my ward, and I actually began to weep as I was walking home, thinking about the marvelous qualities of these people who are so guileless, faithful, and Christ-like. They love me and I love them.

If there was a talk I wrestled with, it was the one delivered by Lynn G. Robbins, not because of the explicit content of the talk itself, all of which I agreed with, but because of a possible subtext of the talk. Since President Robbins' talk remained confined to generalities and never gave any specific examples of where in present-day society these general principles would specifically be put into practice, it's hard to comment other than to say that I agree, peer pressure is a terrible reason to change your opinion of anything, much less your deeply held religious convictions. But if, perchance, growing social acceptance of same-sex marriage is what he was referring to by the term "society's inappropriate behavior," and for which members and leaders of the LDS Church risk being accused of "not living in the 20th century" or being "bigoted," I would like to point out that few if any of the people I know who have changed their views on this particular subject have done so because they are being subjected to peer pressure. Rather, they are changing their views because of what they are coming to learn about gay and lesbian family members and friends, and about the powerful, positive impact that marriage equality has on these individuals. They are changing their views because they have come to understand that legally recognizing the marriages of gay couples may in fact be the right, compassionate, moral thing to do.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks' talk on the subject of love and civil discourse courteously and directly addressed the subject of same-sex marriage. Clearly the talk was given from the perspective of someone who believes same-sex marriage is wrong. But that was not the central point of his talk. "Love is the very essence of the Gospel," he affirmed. And love is challenging to practice because people disagree about things -- like same-sex marriage. The Devil is "the father of contention." "Wise men turn away from wrath." "The wrath of men worketh not the righteousness of God." Elder Oaks correctly advised Latter-day Saints not to allow themselves to be cowed by pejoratives like "bigot." (Nor, presumably, ought they to use such pejoratives.) But what I found most interesting in his talk was a particular turn of phrase. The Saints ought to "hold out for right and wrong as they understand it." Is it possible that those four words are an acknowledgment of the fundamental humility that ought to undergird any social engagement?

Oughtn't love and respect for the truth, as President Dieter F. Uchtdorf emphasized in his talk, be our ultimate quest, wherever we stand in relation to such painful issues? "It seems to be a trait of humanity," Pres. Uchtdorf stated, "to assume we are right, even when we are wrong." He warned of the way we tend to construct for ourselves "raft[s] poorly pieced together from our own biases."

The talk I most loved in today's general sessions was that by Chi Hong Wong. The story of the man with palsy became a powerful metaphor of how the Church is supposed to work, a metaphor he expanded by placing it in a modern day Church context, involving a member of the Relief Society, a member of an Elders Quorum, a youthful Aaronic Priesthood holder, and a full time missionary. Making the Church accessible to those most in need of help required creative solutions (taking out the roof and lowering the man down rather than bringing him through the front door), it required each individual using his or her unique skills, and working in a harmony achieved by practice and listening! He emphasized Church leaders listening to those to whom and with they minister, in order to serve more effectively! And he concluded that the faith described in this story was a story not merely of individual faith (not just the faith of the man seeking healing!), but collective faith. He spoke of Jesus seeing their faith. He spoke of the reward of our combined faith.

The Spirit certainly gave me a subtext for understanding that particular talk, and what it might say about making the Church more accessible to LGBT people. Maybe faithful Saints need to find creative ways to tear out some roofs, if the doorways are being blocked.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland hit it when he said, "I may not be my brother's keeper, but I am my brother's brother." A call for us to view each other not through the lens of "other" but as sister/brother.

Excommunication

Excommunication seems to be the word of the day, not just because of the impending disciplinary courts faced by Mormon activists John Dehlin and Kate Kelly. Quite coincidently, a post of mine (written several weeks ago) discussing (at least in part) my experience as an excommunicated gay Mormon being active in my LDS ward was published on the Rational Faiths blog just hours before the news broke. As a result of my post, a number of individuals had been contacting me privately to ask more about what that experience of being simultaneously active in the Church and excommunicated was like when the news about John and Kate hit social media. Finally, I've been involved in a conversation the last few days with a group interested in supporting LGBT folks in being active in the Church, and one of the hotter topics of that conversation has focused on the issue of what happens if a gay person in a same-sex relationship who has been inactive returns to Church activity. What happens if their reward for coming back to Church is to get excommunicated as soon as Church leaders learn of their relationship status?

It was painful for me to read some of the avalanche of conversations in social media about the disciplinary actions initiated against John Dehlin and Kate Kelly. I know John personally, and I like him a lot. It delighted me to be the recipient of a big hug from him on Sunday at Utah Pride. (I always have to stand on my tip toes and he has to sort of stoop over when I give him a hug, because he's so tall!) My heart sank when I read the news. I really wished it were not so. But I found myself unable to comment in the flurry of increasingly indignant responses to the situation on Facebook. A friend of mine emailed me privately and asked me what I thought, and I found myself wrestling with complex emotions and feeling really vulnerable trying to articulate my feelings.

My first feeling was, "I hope that they can work this out so that excommunication is not necessary." In my best of all worlds, these disciplinary councils would be opportunities, in an intimate, compassionate setting, and in a way that honors the complexity of these individuals' faith journeys, to discuss vital matters of faith, life, community and ministry. In my best of all worlds, these councils would allow for course corrections and corrections of misunderstandings, and would keep at the forefront the goal of continued Church membership. I'm praying for that.

In the likely event that continued Church membership is not possible, I thought this "Open Letter to the Saints" (also published on Rational Faiths) was a helpful reflection on the human weaknesses endemic in my church that make the topic of excommunication more volatile than it ought to be. I really hope that one outcome of this will not be, within Church circles, the vilification of John and Kate, nor the demonization of the very valid concerns that have brought them to this pass. Regardless of the outcome of their disciplinary councils, compassionate Church members will need to continue to be concerned about how sexism within the LDS community harms women, and will need to continue to be concerned about the rock and the hard place LGBT Mormons are caught between. We as a Church will still also need to learn how to wrestle with doubt and big questions, without demonizing doubt and without oversimplifying faith. If their councils result in fear of reaching out compassionately to one another in relation to these issues, we will all be harmed, every single one of us, male, female, LGB, SSA, straight, trans- and cis-gender; Iron Rod Mormons and Liahona Mormons alike.

For what it's worth, just as I feel every effort should be made to avoid vilifying John and Kate, I similarly feel it will not be helpful to lionize them or make them martyrs. Both of these attitudes (vilifying and lionizing) will cloud the issues by making this about personalities and politics. And both attitudes will make it almost impossible for the disciplinary councils to be about the specifics of these individuals' relationships with God, their faith, and the Church, which is what disciplinary councils ultimately should be about... Regardless of what commonthink says disciplinary councils and excommunications are "really" about.

I have had to face the ramifications of my own excommunication with a certain amount of faith and surrender. I love the Church with my whole heart, and I can imagine few things making me happier than to some day regain full membership status within it. I want to belong to the Church, not because it is a "cultural heritage." Mormonism as "cultural heritage" cannot save me. In my reckoning, "cultural heritage" = "cultural baggage." Who needs it? I want to belong to the Church because I have a testimony. Because I know it is true. Because I know God is real and God's real power is expressed through a restored Priesthood. What good is Priesthood if I don't honor it? If I don't accept the order that the exercise of the Priesthood requires? Even when mortals exercise it imperfectly! And what would my faith in God mean if I didn't have some trust that there is a greater good accomplished by delegating God's work to mortals and to earthly institutions, if I didn't trust in him to ultimately work things out, regardless of the vicissitudes of a world full of tares as well as wheat?

God has been merciful to me. I am blessed to have a ward and a larger community that loves and embraces me -- even given the complexities of being an excommunicated gay man in a same-sex relationship. Having been forced to set aside questions of status and membership, I've been blessed with the opportunity to exercise faith, indeed, to learn what faith really means to me, to learn how much it means to me. That learning has blessed me immeasurably. I wouldn't trade places with anyone else in this world.

My only prayer is that God be merciful to all of us: to John, to Kate; to the LGBT community, to the women who are hurting because of the priesthood ordination issue; to Mormons who are wrestling with doubt and to Mormons who are running in fear from doubt; to the whole Church. We could use a collective dose of mercy right now.

Walking in the Integrity of my Soul

Driving into Salt Lake City yesterday for the Utah Pride Festival evoked strange emotions in me.

I remembered when I left Utah the summer of 1986 with a plan to end my life.

I remembered knowing that despite all my best efforts of the preceding 9 years of my life to fight it, I was gay. I had to acknowledge that fact. And to acknowledge that fact also meant to acknowledge that my life as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was over. The one thing that had given my life ultimate meaning was over. And the only life I could envision in a world where I could not be one of the Saints was a life I couldn’t bear living. So I had a plan to end it.

I wanted to die, not because I hated myself for being gay, but because I loved the Church with my whole soul and I could no longer see a place for myself in it.

Ultimately I am alive today because God spoke to me later that summer, and revealed to me what he knew of me, which included that this aspect of myself was core to who I was as an eternal soul and as his child, and that he loved me in the totality of who I was, and he still had a plan for me. Later that summer, knowing that God existed and that he loved me, I resigned from the Church. In 1986, I still saw no way for a gay man to exist in the Church of Jesus Christ.

When I first heard the news in June 2012 that over three hundred active Mormons had marched in SLC Pride, I was electrified. By that time I had participated in many Pride marches in the Minneapolis, MN under the banners of a variety of gay rights organizations and community groups. But for the first time, when I saw the images of Mormons Building Bridges in the media, I became truly excited about Pride.

When it dawned on me that I could march as an act of faith, as an expression of my testimony of the Gospel, it changed everything for me. I rushed to organize a Twin Cities “Mormon Allies” march.

As much as I have at various times in my life doubted and denied, I cannot deny my testimony. It is written in every cell of my body. I know all about Church history. I understand the problems related to the Book of Mormon. I realize that the Church is not perfect. The fact that a 23 year old young man who loved the Church with his whole soul and had given his life to its service was ready to kill himself in 1986 because he saw no way to reconcile his faith with what he knew of himself is proof that the Lord has not finished perfecting the Saints. But none of it can outweigh what I know. I have experienced the hand of God in my life, and this knee readily bows and this tongue readily confesses him and his work and his glory – to share with us the life that he has.

Believe it or not, I still have one of the shirts I wore as a missionary in the Swiss Geneva Mission 1981-82. I’m wearing it along with a tie and black dress trousers my husband bought for me, and tennis shoes I’ve borrowed from my Dad (practicality is a good thing), and I’m going to march in Utah Pride today with Mormons Building Bridges. What a privilege.

Thank you for bearing your testimony through an expression of unconditional love for your LGB and T brothers and sisters.

Thank you for giving me this opportunity to walk in the integrity of my soul.

To Join or Not to Join

Recently I was contacted by a gay friend. He has decided to be baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Believe it or not, this actually happens. In the last few years, I've encountered a surprising number of gay and lesbian individuals who are drawn to the principles of Mormonism and who -- sometimes in spite of themselves -- feel the Spirit and desire baptism. They know full well the Church's current positions on homosexuality and gender. Still, they recognize the truth of the Gospel and desire to align themselves with it in some way.

Needless to say, joining the LDS Church is a more complicated prospect for gay or lesbian individuals. For those who can make an opposite-sex marriage work, the landscape looks a bit different, at least as far as Church membership is concerned. For those who can't, I've observed three basic approaches.

Approach 1: Join the Church with a wholehearted commitment to remain celibate for the rest of your life. (This is the rarest approach.)

I have sometimes seen folks in this situation work out very complicated relationship configurations, such as living in a sexually abstinent but emotionally intimate partnership.

Approach 2: Join the Church not knowing what the future holds. Maybe a relationship will not be in the cards, which at least simplifies one's status in the Church. If the prospect of a relationship presents itself, work out the messy details at that time. Most people who take this approach generally know going into baptism that lifelong celibacy is not a sustainable choice for them. They know that -- for them! -- a choice between Church membership and the prospect of relationship and family is an impossible choice. But they hunger and thirst for the blessings of Church membership, and as long as that remains an option for them, they choose it.

In most cases where I've seen individuals joining the Church under these conditions, they are quite open with the missionaries, their bishop and other Church members and leaders about how they feel, and about the possibility that, at some future time, their membership in the Church may no longer be tenable. I have also observed that Church leaders and members tend to be empathetic toward individuals in this situation, and generally are willing to work with them.

In some wards and stakes, individuals are not being excommunicated for entering into a committed same-sex partnership or marriage. In others they are. Complexity and uncertainty seems to be the rule in this terrain right now.

Approach 3: Be a dry Mormon. Don't get baptized, but attend Church and live the Gospel as fully and completely as you are able under the circumstances. That's my situation.

In my experience, Church leaders and members tend to be empathetic toward individuals in this situation as well. They generally recognize that what is being asked of gay and lesbian individuals is extremely difficult, so they try not to judge. My ward and my bishop and other priesthood leaders have been so loving and supportive of me, I almost sometimes forget that I am not actually a member in good standing. Almost.

What can be more painful than the challenges of navigating Church membership and intimate relationships if you are gay or lesbian is the confusion, indifference and rejection you might experience from family or LGBT friends.

My friend described to me the reactions of friends: "Are you sure?" "You know what celibacy means, right?" "Don't do it!" "Are you kidding?" "All I wanted was congratulations," he said, "Instead I got condolences."

For him this was a joyous time, a joyous decision. For him, discovering the Gospel was opening up new understanding, new possibilities. He was experiencing a rebirth. This individual is not young. He's not naive. He understands the complexities involved in this path for someone in his situation. He recognizes the potential heartbreak down the road. And yet... And yet he's hopeful.

In thinking about his situation (and mine), I remember what Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount: "Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature? ... Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" (Matthew 6: 27, 34). Jesus' words here are about the true nature of faith. Faith is acting on what the Spirit prompts us to do, whether or not we know how things will work out in the long term. It means trusting that things will work out, if we do what we know is right.

There's another part of the Sermon on the Mount that speaks to this situation as well. "Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:20). There's a righteousness in hope, in possibility, in the courage prompted by faith, that exceeds the righteousness available to us in hewing to the letter of a law, or conforming to people's expectations. But we have to be open and faithful if we want to learn what that righteousness might be.

LGBT Mormons are in a position to know things about faith that others cannot. The Church needs us, and maybe that is why so many of us are experiencing an outpouring of the Spirit that is leading us to act in faith even when our friends (and maybe even our own logical processes) can't discern a way forward.

When my friend said, "All I wanted was congratulations," I said, "Congratulations!"

He laughed.

The joy of finding a truth, finding that "pearl of great price," and acting on it in faith is always, ultimately, a sacred secret. Others may never understand it. That makes it all the more worthwhile in the end.