Bedtime story

I just finished watching The Mormons on PBS and it wasn't a bad flick. As I sit here with droopy eyes ready to doze off for the evening, I'm just alarmed at how blessed my life is. I've been meaning to write more "stories" on my blog, so maybe I can pop out a quick one before I slip into my sleepy coma.

I remember one of the interviewees in the documentary saying that it didn't matter all the good that came from the church if it were a fraud. None of the goodness mattered if the historicity demonstrated that it was all based on a fabrication. I don't remember the exact quote, so I hope I'm not giving a really bad paraphrase, but I just can't agree with the guy.

I've never been one to get wrapped up in the historical debates of controversial church issues. Those sorts of discussions just don't float my boat. Regarding the "facts" of polygamy and blacks and ERA and Mountain Meadows massacre... I still have a lot to learn. I do think that in the end the church is true not just in overall effect, but in the details.

When I was a kid, a friend of mine quipped that even if the church isn't true it's still a helluva way to live. I thought he was an idiot. I was a very idealistic little boy and my primary interest was in the truth. The absolute truth.

However; when I watch the cameras flip back and forth between Elder Jensen and various critics of the church, there's almost a demonstrable difference in light in their faces. It's not that the critics weren't nice folks, smart folks, good folks... but the church has had a refining effect on Elder Oaks and President Hinckley and Elder Jensen that seemed amazingly stark to me. Isn't that something to the credit of the church despite whatever academic squabbling a person wants to undertake?

At the end of the day I feel very happy knowing that a large portion (if not all) of the happiness I have in my life extends from my family and the happiness in my family extends from trying to live the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that gospel has come through this church.

Ok, kids. There you go. That is what you might call a "flight of ideas" post from your schizophrenic friend, -L-. And now, with no regard to whether anything I just wrote made any sense whatsoever, I publish and sleep.

Institutions

I was listening to the radio over the weekend and heard some scholarly pundit talking about reformations and how all major world religions go through them occasionally. As one example he suggested Jesus accomplished such a reformation with his central message that spirituality and peace come from the individual and not through an institution (i.e. the Pharisees). Apparently the Sermon on the Mount was a mere footnote to Jesus' larger aspirations to stick it to the man.

When people talk about the divinity of the LDS church, people align predictably according to their testimonies and interpret any measures of institutional success or failure in that context. The faults of the church are attributed to imperfect men (just as in the Book of Mormon) by faithful church members while opponents attribute problems to systemic flaws. Whether the structure, programs, or institutional practices of the church are divine is debatable even within a faithful paradigm. God, it seems to me, doesn't typically micromanage.

Regardless, the very common idea that no institution has a right to stand between me and my God only makes sense if my God agrees. Many Gods, being the invention of their respective believers, don't have any problem with an ad hoc connection and ad hoc salvation. The Mormon God, however, prefers a more orderly approach to salvation. Authority, ordinances, and structure are just a part of the deal, like it or not.

This all came to my mind with some immediacy recently when I attended the temple. I was thinking about prophets and having a church or other men or anything, really, between me and God. To my surprise, the words of the temple ceremony became surprisingly and pointedly relevant. The dialog reminded me of how much I don't know and how reliant I am on God to teach me in His own way according to His own wisdom. Although I'm a big fan of personal responsibility and a personal relationship with the Savior, I, for one, am grateful for the Lord's institutions and believe reformations should accomplish a balance rather than swinging too far in the opposite direction.

Fruits

I got an e-mail a while back from a gay guy who’s pretty happy with his life being gay, but had an odd dream in which he saw himself as married to a woman. And having children. And LDS. And extremely happy. He described it like this:

…last June something came over me that I haven't been able to shake -a vision of myself in the future, eternally married as a Mormon with two children. It was the most incredible, wonderful feeling I have ever experienced. In the vision, my world was completely different - nothing was about myself anymore, and instead, everything was about my wife, children, and God. Our children were so beautiful - we would have done anything for them. I was still gay (and we all knew it), but that didn't matter. Just as I had sacrificed certain career aspirations, my time, money, and the planned direction of my life, I had sacrificed being with men. It wasn't something that I questioned because I had evidence of the blessings in front of me at all times.

So, he hooked up with the missionaries and started taking the discussions. I don’t know where he is or isn’t in the process of investigating the church right now, but at one point they were teaching him about the fruits of the spirit and he e-mailed to ask me about the “fruits” of my choices.

I’m pretty stupid about most things, but particularly about my own life and happiness. I have huge mood swings, moments of manic happiness, frenzied stress, bitter frustration… you know, the spectrum of life. Does that make the “fruit” something worth setting out there as an example?

There have also been occasional comments and e-mails from people who, in one way or another, suggest that I’m trying to persuade people to do things like I’ve done it… or to convert them somehow to my way of thinking. I can’t deny trying to be persuasive on some topic when I think I’m right and some other point of view is stupid (notice: no instances offered), but overall I really thought I had made it abundantly clear that this is a journey for me, I don’t pretend to know where it will end or what all the answers are.

I can speak to the happiness I have in my life right now, and it’s genuine. But I can also speak to the difficulties we’ve had (and still have), as well as the many examples of couples that haven’t succeeded in making their marriages a perpetual bliss.

As far as comparing my situation to those who have taken a different path, things get muddy fast. And super subjective. I can only look at the choices people make, and the way I perceive their happiness and the quality of their lives. I don’t necessarily go by whether people say they’re happy, because I’ve seen some pretty nasty, bitter people snarl out how great their life is and that if anyone disputes their happiness they’ll snap their neck like a !@#$ matchstick!!!

It turns out my subjective conclusions don’t really support the “fruit” theory at all. I see the full spectrum ranging all the way from wonderful, exemplary people to cranky jerks both inside the church and out. Of course, the traits that qualify the wonderful, exemplary people as such are qualities consistent with following LDS church teachings, whether they’ve been achieved by trying to follow Christ’s teachings deliberately or not. And vice versa.

I think Galatians isn’t really talking about knowing anything by its fruits (although it’s a great analogy), but specifically the gifts of the spirit. But if I’m making decisions about what to believe and do based on who I want to exemplify and become, I feel pretty good about things anyway.

Civil unions

One way to think of marriage is as a bundle of rights associated with what it means for two people to be married. What the First Presidency has done is express its support of marriage and for that bundle of rights belonging to a man and a woman. The First Presidency hasn’t expressed itself concerning any specific right. It really doesn’t matter what you call it. If you have some legally sanctioned relationship with the bundle of legal rights traditionally belonging to marriage and governing authority has slapped a label on it, whether it is civil union or domestic partnership or whatever label it’s given, it is nonetheless tantamount to marriage. That is something to which our doctrine simply requires us to speak out and say, “That is not right. That’s not appropriate.”As far as something less than that — as far as relationships that give to some pairs in our society some right but not all of those associated with marriage — as to that, as far as I know, the First Presidency hasn’t expressed itself. There are numbers of different types of partnerships or pairings that may exist in society that aren’t same-gender sexual relationships that provide for some right that we have no objection to. All that said… there may be on occasion some specific rights that we would be concerned about being granted to those in a same-gender relationship. Adoption is one that comes to mind, simply because that is a right which has been historically, doctrinally associated so closely with marriage and family. I cite the example of adoption simply because it has to do with the bearing and the rearing of children. Our teachings, even as expressed most recently in a very complete doctrinal sense in the Family Proclamation by living apostles and prophets, is that children deserve to be reared in a home with a father and a mother.

-Elder Wickman

I would sometimes like to avoid the subject of gay marriage altogether because it gives me a lot of mental pain. But I don't have that option as it is an important issue right now for so many people (both gay and LDS), and it is playing out in elections and public debates all the time. The recent election and the variations in legislative and constitutional proposals across the country brought it all to the forefront for me again.

My inclination is to favor gay marriage and/or civil unions, but to also follow the advice of the church even when it doesn't necessarily make sense to me. But I don't think it's inappropriate to discuss guidance given by the church, and I think it's actually a spiritual necessity to try to understand it. So, wearily, here goes... (again)...

Elder Wickman mentions that "our doctrine simply requires" us to oppose not only gay marriages but civil unions that accomplish an identical purpose. I don't know what doctrine this specifically is. Gay sex is wrong: check. Chastity is good: check. Freedom to choose: check. The balance of doctrine seems to lean toward allowing civil unions, in my mind. I really would appreciate a clarification, but through some unfortunate oversight I wasn't invited to the Public Affairs interview I've quoted.

Adoption is the other sticking point for me. As many have pointed out before, despite the ideal that every child deserves a home with a father and mother, that hasn't happened for many children and allowing an actual care-giver in a real life situation to properly care for a child seems to be a good idea. When a child comes to the Emergency Department with a gay care-giver who is not related, treatment consent cannot be obtained until the legal parent is available (with a few caveats). This can delay treatment and adversely affect the child's health.

I suppose the objection is that recognizing or supporting gay adoption would have the effect of sky-rocketing the number of children being reared by gay partners rather than fathers and mothers--like we're advocating the better of two unfortunate options. Advocate policy that harms a small number of children today to harm fewer children later... or something like that. But, I can certainly understand the incredulity gay advocates confront this with--the data shows no harm to children from being raised with same-gendered parents.

And I suppose that brings us full circle to the appeal to "doctrine." It may not be doctrine because it's in the scriptures, but by virtue of the fact the 1st presidency says it's the best thing to do. It's an appeal to God's authority, and that's the end of the debate.

So much rides on the question: is the church really God's? Are the prophets really speaking for Him? I wish everyone could respect those who answer those questions differently than themselves without throwing around insults and intolerance. But it has been recently and emphatically demonstrated to me that for both believers and non-believers this is prohibitively difficult.

Testimony Sunday

Was that it? The odd sensation I had just experienced somewhere deep in my chest seemed like it could be characterized as a “burning in the bosom” but it could just as easily have been some odd physiologic sensation I had only noticed because of my intense personal awareness at the moment I was looking for a sign from God.

Really, that’s been the problem with personal revelation from the beginning—the vagueness. It’s described in a way that seems to require certitude as the defining characteristic. But when I try to wrestle with life’s problems, I often find very little that is so distinct.

I’m in the habit of attributing such spiritual communication failings to myself. After all, if one is unworthy of the spirit, one should not be surprised that He fails to imprint God’s truth with searing absoluteness in the heart at a moment’s notice. And I have never been wholly satisfied with my worthiness. That’s not to say that I haven’t been a good person. But I’ve never felt myself to be “godly” and part of me feels, however wrongly, that that’s a prerequisite for really being on chatty terms with God.

God is in the habit of talking with sinners, though, and I’m sure he recognizes far better than I do the paradox of withholding His help from those who are unworthy of it when it is His help that they need to increase their worthiness.

So I pray and I try to listen even when the answers are uncertain. I act on the answers I think I’ve received, and I think I may well have been mistaken at times. I chose my career based on such an answer. I married my wife based on such an answer. In retrospect it’s hard to imagine the borderline insanity necessary to make such huge decisions based on something so nebulous. But it wasn’t really based only on the answers I believe I received to my prayers, it was also based on a lot of critical thought and carefully measured introspection—logic trumping gut instinct as it so often does when I appraise my life’s situation.

The problem with logic over the certainty that the Spirit can and does offer at times is exactly that—logical conclusions are always provisional, never certain, subject to perpetual review and can never really be certain as long as the data they are based on is never fully collected. As new information becomes available, the equations change, the suppositions morph, and the whole system of assumptions and conclusions is adjusted by levers and gears that are inseparably connected.

Such gears and levers have disturbed my peace many times over the years. When I’ve been confronted with some surprising fact or historical bit about the church or a church leader, I’ve been so sadly resigned to be an over-worked maintenance man on the whole mechanical system that my faith and world view have been.

But I’ve realized over the years that such maintenance is only appropriate if it does not seek to replace faith. There is a balance between faith and evidence both spiritual and intellectual. The evidence presents itself, but the faith is a choice. And I do choose to have faith in the things of which knowledge is unattainable through empiric means but that extend from everything desirable and wholesome I’ve encountered in my life.

The good that I find in my concept of God and the promises made to those of many faiths who seek to follow Him, all speak to a transcendent reality—a state of purposefulness and significance of the universe that has as its origin something other-worldy. I’ve watched for those people who have the most significant scent of wholesome other-worldliness on them, and I find they are my parents, my prophets, and good men of every faith who strive to do what God has variously revealed. God’s plan, his devices, his manner of interacting with mankind, has been curious over the history of the world. Odd, regardless of the religious tradition.

I was delighted to learn that he speaks with prophets and that these men and women with first-hand knowledge of God share the light and truth they know. They often demonstrate what kind of lives we can have when we partake completely of that other-worldliness. And that I see and appreciate with a clarity that is undeniable. In this I have achieved my certitude, my absolute confidence beyond logic. When I see the good and beautiful lives and deeds of those who know God intimately, I’m uplifted and inspired. And while there are faults and errors on occasion, the overall quiet peculiarity is pervasive and sound.

That realization, over the years, has “converted” me. It’s why I believe the church to be true and why I know there is truth outside the church. It’s why I try every day to change myself into the divine creature God intends me to be. Because only I can create my will to be like God’s will. Only I can work within myself to bring about an acceptance of God’s love and help. Then I can fully accept a changed heart and spirit as God’s willing gift to his imperfect child. I’ve seen the successes of those who accept God, and the truth of that is undeniable. Like a Gift of the Spirit, to believe on the testimonies of those that know, I have a transcendent certainty that can’t be shaken. And I’m grateful for it.

The 11th hour

I sat down at the computer to e-mail my congressmen about the proposed Marriage Protection Amendment just one day prior to the vote. I knew it was the 11th hour and that my decision about what to write would reflect far more on myself than it would have any impact on what my legislators thought or voted. But church leaders had asked me to "express myself," and I've always been a sucker for the importance of participating in representative government.

I had come to the conclusion that gay marriage was a good thing based not only on what I know and believe about the social impact of gay marriage--that it would be an effective way to encourage gay folks to be committed and monogamous, to provide them the legal tools to properly participate in the domestic affairs of those with whom they had become domestic partners, to choose committed love as an ideal over adultery--but also because it just seemed right and fair in this diverse country to allow people to pursue the brand of happiness they find acceptable for themselves.

I had thought about it a fair amount. And all my reasoning (and the social data) seemed to indicate gay marriage would be a good thing, despite my acknowledgement others may easily come to a different conclusion.

I found loopholes and legalistic reasons why I thought my opposition to the amendment and support of gay marriage were not strictly inconsistent with the counsel of the church. But, some part of me knew that pharisaic approach wasn't going to work in the end.

I sat, thinking and uncomfortable. Fingers perched, ready to type some sense out of the confusion.

I remembered one of the many defining moments on my mission when I received a letter from my parents--both terrified that I was standing at the edge of apostasy's cliff, ready to jump. I had written them some snide comments about a few of our mission rules, and they had been horrified enough to immediately produce a long rebuke. It's one of the few times on my mission that both parents contributed substantially to a single letter.

I think the particular issue may have been my president requiring us to take daily herbal supplements--a position he crowed was backed by scientific evidence (and a position about which science has long since vindicated my skepticism). It didn't matter whether he was right or wrong, my parents said, it mattered that I trusted and obeyed. They weren't stupid. They knew how counter-intuitive that was, how cultish. But they also knew that there would be times in my life later when I would think I understood something better than my priesthood leaders and I would be wrong. Then, it might be on something that mattered. And ultimately, they knew the church was true and that while small injustices would come of trusting leaders (like choking back daily garlic pills), God wouldn't allow the prophet to lead the church astray. They believed, as I do now, that there is singular power in obeying every word of command with exactness. Curious power. And yes, when applied to false prophets, such trust is dangerous. You've got to be certain who you can trust, because ultimately you are responsible for your own decisions.

The final position I took with my congressmen was one of support for the amendment. I was true to myself in a strangely contradictory way. I know the church is true. I know prophets are real. So, when Elder Maxwell says,

"So it is that real, personal sacrifice never was placing an animal on the altar. Instead, it is a willingness to put the animal in us upon the altar and letting it be consumed! Such is the sacrifice unto the Lord of a broken heart and a contrite spirit, (D&C 59:8), a prerequisite to taking up the cross, while giving away all [our] sins in order to know God (Alma 22:18) for the denial of self precedes the full acceptance of Him."

I interpret that in one sense to apply to times like these. It's perhaps an application of a skill I've learned through my homosexuality--to believe that what feels right is not necessarily so. And that the balance due in confidence and affirmation for truly right decisions may come in unexpected ways.

At the same time I feel confused and sad. I feel a great desire to contact Scot and Chris and David and apologize. Sometimes having faith is hard, and not being ashamed of it is also hard.

Theology, etc.

I listened to the radio interview of Nielsen suggested by JD in yesterday's comments and was surprised to hear how much I like Nielsen. I mean, I didn't dislike him before (despite my flippant post tone), but he really appeals to me for his insights, his quick concessions on certain points, and his humility. I wasn't expecting the humility. I had him down as more of a martyr whistle-blower, confident in his pious sacrifice. I like to believe he and I would be great friends if given the chance (not -L-, but the quite distinct real person who masquerades as -L- online).

But then, on the other hand, I think I pegged him pretty well yesterday. I think the root problem with his view is that he doesn't believe the leadership of the church really has much relationship to God's will. He tries to make a distinction between criticizing theology and criticizing the politics of the church, but God is just as much an expert on politics as he is on theology.

Nielsen made an interesting reference to Jewish friends who aren't big fans of Noah because of his unhesitating acceptance that God was going to destroy the world with a flood. They are bigger fans of Moses, who actually argued with God a little more as an advocate for Israel. I really like that thought. And I recognize (and I think I've said so) that leaders aren't micro-managed by God on every issue and that the specifics are often subject to the limitations of an individual's ability to implement guidance on that issue. But while Nielsen calls for greater transparency and information sharing on the part of all organizations (which I can whole-heartedly applaud in the context of management positions I've held in the past), he seems not to understand that the organization of God's church--including ranked leadership and a certain lack of divine transparency--was God's own design.

Do we know then that Hinckley hasn't gone to blows with God regarding gay marriage? Do we know that he doesn't have deeply loving and ambivalent feelings for how gays can find some measure of happiness, but that his efforts ultimately ended with God laying down the law? How can we ever be certain that an "open dialog" about moral issues is supposed to end if we don't accept the prophet's final word on the subject?

I repeat my conjecture that "moral reciprocity" has already had every consideration in the private debates among the brethren. And I tentatively think there is no subject that doesn't have relevance to theology, politics or otherwise. I think it's central to truly believing the LDS church to believe that prophets truly speak for God.

Nielsen and Kierkegaard

The Nielsen saga has been interesting to me, but I haven't known exactly what to think of it all. He was at BYU in the philosophy department (which already endears him to me... I've spent some time there myself) and was fired for taking a public stand against the church on the gay marriage issue. Considering my own very conflicted feelings on the subject, I have to sympathize. We teach children to stand up for what's right, even when it means you might be unpopular (at least my mom did). And here's a guy who thought that's exactly what he's doing, and it's the LDS church that takes him down. Not that that's surprising or even inappropriate--it's pretty much a clear expectation of employment at BYU that you don't call your employer's owner immoral and publicly criticize them (at least, I think it is).

The latest piece in the paper from him has a curious effect on me. I agree with everything he says from a secular perspective, but I can't swallow it as one who believes the church is led by God. Never does he acknowledge that the leaders of the church are considered prophets--those who speak for God--in his comments. He compares the LDS church to "any organization" and cautions against considering the leaders infallible. That's all nice, Nielsen, but you seem to be a pretty bright guy for having missed such a central premise of the church.

"Unexamined belief is not faith, but superstition, and we must clear away superstition to make way for genuine faith," says Nielsen. Was it superstition, then, that led Abraham to submit to God's completely unacceptable commandment to murder his own son--a son He gave Abraham fair and square? How exactly did he rationalize that away? He examined it and, yup, it's still ridiculous. What was it about his obedience that was so significant then?

Back in my days studying philosophy at the BYU (hee hee-the BYU... I'm so old), I read some of Kierkegaard's thoughts on Abraham. I didn't really get it. But whatever the hell Kierkegaard really thinks, it ultimately left me with the impression that there's a paradox to faith. My take home point was that you can examine certain things rationally till the cows come home and they'll come up unexplainable, and that there's a particular power in accepting God's curious position anyway.

The real question is whether we are justified in viewing leaders of any organization, even those of the LDS Church, as infallible when they make a doctrinal or policy pronouncement.... If they want to be considered infallible, then they have every reason to worry about members like me who will always refuse to surrender those most precious divine gifts, namely mind and moral agency, to another human being....

Is the church led by human beings then or ultimately by God? You can believe either way, but Nielsen sure seems to want the latitude to take his pick for whatever issue du jour comes along. I've always been taught that being obedient gives us more moral agency, and that there's merit to obeying every word of command with exactness. To the extent a leader misleads, he is responsible and not me. Yes, I see the many problems with this oversimplification of the issue, but it seems a good rule considering the complexity (and ultimate failure) of the other ways people see to reconcile mistakes from priesthood leaders. Rules can have exceptions, but if I wrote them out trying to anticipate them, they would be part of the rule.

I can imagine the Israelites, "Hey Moses, do you honestly think going in and wiping out all the Canaanites is a good idea? I mean, they've got children in there. Aren't the children innocent?"

Moses: "What the hell do I know? God just said to do it."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I just don't think I can sacrifice my most precious gifts to you--my mind and my moral agency. Killing children is wrong."

"Umm... okay. I guess you've got to do what you've got to do. The whole walking across the Red Sea as if it were dry land didn't persuade you that God is captain here and not just me?"

"Well, you've got a point there, certainly. I'll think about it. But I think I've got to ultimately be true to myself and I was taught not to kill. It's one of the commandments."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with those."

Nielsen later lectures the leaders of the church on the Golden Rule. Does he think the comparison to polygamy has escaped them? Does he honestly think their belief on this issue is "unexamined"? Do I? Am I willing to stand up and criticize an unjust church, the very same one that taught me how important it is to stand for the truth! I suppose I would, if I thought the church really was unjust... if I thought it wasn't God's church. But I think it is. I don't get everything that's going on with gay marriage, but I'm working from limited information and God's not.

Detestable

"I don't want to turn our children over to an organization that will teach them to hate their father," he said.

"Gerald," I responded quickly, "you know that there is no person or organization anywhere on this earth that could teach your children to hate you. You know they love and adore you, and they always will."

"But the Church will tell them that I am evil."

"Look, Gerald," I said. "I understand your feelings toward the Church, but without it you wouldn't have developed into the person you are, or have the spiritual interest you do. I think the Church has done a lot for you."

There were tears in Gerald's eyes when he answered me. "That's the trouble, Blossom. I love the Church. And the Church detests me. That's why it hurts so much!"

Carol Lynn Pearson,
in Good-bye, I Love You

I have to admit there's a lot here that I just plain don't get. Not that the actual words have obscure meaning, but the pervasive disagreement about the church's actual attitude toward homosexuality held among gays, members, and SSA practicing Mormons. The church says they love us. Gays say the church hates us.

I was interested to learn that the church had advocated electroshock aversion therapy at BYU and that priesthood leaders have said such offensive things as that it would be better to be at the bottom of the Great Salt Lake with a millstone around your neck than to be gay or that homosexuality is equivalent in depravity to bestiality.

Apologetic apologist or not, I come out with a kind take on the church. I'm inclined to think one can believe whatever one wants about the church in this regard. I wonder if it's one of those things that reflects on the interpreter more than the subject material itself.

For example, priesthood leaders are either plain wrong (not unheard of) or overemphasizing something for its rhetorical impact when they speak of death being better than sin. It's certainly a notion that has home in parts of the scriptures and makes sense in a tactical "how will you make it through life's tests" sort of way. It also has the unfortunate side effect of alienating the vulnerable person who already feels ashamed and desperate--of giving the false impression that the church wants the person dead. Not a strategic repentance-motivating discussion I would endorse, but also not literally technically inaccurate. Rhetorically stupid, yes, but stupidity is more easily excused than hatred.

I haven't given bestiality much thought, but my guess is that it is wholly different from homosexuality and that those who compare them are just plain wrong (and perhaps willfully ignorant, I don't know). I don't know that folks are actually attracted to animals, I've always thought it was kind of an elaborate form of masturbation. It's really disgusting though, and on that basis I can see how some people would compare it to their view of gay sex. Again, poor communication and ignorance are bad, but not necessarily the same as hatred.

Shock therapy doesn't bother me nearly as much as some people. Medical history is filled with unsuccessful interventions that made lots of sense on paper. We hurt people all the time in medicine to bring about some positive result. Surgery is "cut to cure". We literally flay a person's chest open with huge metal retractors and then rip pieces of their body out... and they let us because they're better off afterward. To the extent that participants were not compelled to undergo the shock therapy and the practitioners had reasonable hope that the outcome they all desired was possible, it's not as huge of a deal as it seems. It is grotesque to think about and unfortunate to say the least, but not some scene out of Frankenstein that it's painted to be by the activists I've seen describing it.

The church has repeatedly expressed its love for gays (although they stubbornly use their own language) and its desire based on that love that gays repent and enjoy all the happiness and blessings of the gospel. God, His prophets, and His organization don't "detest" us. However, there is still too much ignorance, still offensive language used, and still misunderstandings, and battling it all is worth a go.

How do you know?

A frequent refrain on this blog is the contrast between what seems to make sense about accepting one's sexuality and the tension I feel because of my understanding of what God expects of us. I acknowledge there are many worldviews that good people hold on the topic, but I also feel almost apologetic in asserting that I still think any particular lovely worldview may have no basis in reality. I'm bound by the truth that I know, and despite plenty of compelling arguments as to why my life would be better, more peaceful, and more satisfying heading down a different road, I don't think it's ultimately true.

The investigation is a balance between constant re-evaluation and learning, and not conceding what I already know. And, unfortunately, it's fraught with potential for misunderstandings and offense. I've posted obliquely about how there's an interplay between knowledge and faith, certitude and unsupported confidence, but the question always seems to return: how do you know? One small part of the puzzle is living prophets. I find comfort in prophetic guidance when I see so many people making different decisions for their lives in the name of being true to themselves. It's a bit of a puzzle to know how to respond when people claim to have reached an entirely different God-sanctioned direction for themselves than I think God has indicated is appropriate.

The interplay between rationality and faith, between personal confidence and informed skepticism, is always tricky. I think I'm on the right track even while I note what I think are mistakes in the approaches of others. Many apologies for the indecency of assessing such a thing. I know some will take it to be judgmental, but I find it a decidedly important part of determining how to live one's life (and how not to). In terms of revelation, I found the following information from an old professor of mine to be helpful:

Joseph Smith taught early in his ministry that God has a system, an order by which he communicates with his children and with his prophets; that to claim to receive revelation which in fact does not come from God, to speak in the name of the Lord when one is not authorized to do so, is essentially to take the name of the Lord God in vain ( Doctrine and Covenants 63:62). Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who have studied the tenets of their faith and the principles and doctrines associated therewith have come to know that:

• A person claiming a revelation from God must be acting within the realm of his or her own stewardship. That is, one may receive revelation from God for himself or for those under his charge, but “it is contrary to the economy of God for any member of the Church, or anyone, to receive instruction for those in authority, higher than themselves” (TPJS, 21). In short, the early Saints learned that “revelations of the mind and will of God to the Church, are to come through the [First] Presidency. This is the order of heaven and the power and privilege of this Priesthood. It is also the privilege of any officer in this Church to obtain revelations, so far as relates to his particular calling and duty in the Church” (TPJS, 111).
• A person claiming a revelation from God should be worthy to receive the same. That is, he or she must be living a life that is in keeping with the standards of the Church, must be in good standing before God and God’s people.
• A supposed revelation must be in harmony with the teachings of scripture, prophets, and the law and order of the Church. If, for example, someone were to come to me and indicate that she had received a revelation to be dishonest in order to improve her financial situation, I would know at once that such a solution, though practical, was not inspired. If a person were to say to me that God had instructed him that the Church should go in a different direction entirely and that he was the one to lead the Church in that direction, I would know that the purported oracle was not of God. What, then, about such unusual scriptural commands as Abraham being asked to sacrifice Isaac? My suggestion has always been that we as rank-and-file members abide by the rules and leave the exceptions to the called and ordained prophets. A modern apostle, Boyd K. Packer, observed that “there are those who claim authority from some secret ordinations of the past. Even now some claim special revealed authority to lead or to teach the people. ... “There have been ... too many ordinations and settings apart performed before too many witnesses; there have been too many records kept, too many certificates prepared, and too many pictures published in too many places for any one to be deceived as to who holds proper authority. Claims of special revelation or secret authority from the Lord or from the Brethren are false on the face of them and really utter nonsense!” (CR, Apr. 1985, 43; see also Doctrine and Covenants 42:11).
• The revelation will build one’s faith in Jesus Christ, in the Church and kingdom, and in the constituted authorities of the Church. That is to say, God will not work against himself
  
  
  -Robert L. Millet

Individual paths

I try to keep my posts on the short side. I think it's because I anticipate that everyone has an attention span about the same length as mine. But it's impossible to really put all the background information necessary into some of the discussions I want to have. Short of teaching the entire missionary discussions on my blog, I don't see how to change that.

But, I want people to understand something about my confidence in God and the Mormon church. I mean no disrespect to others when I say I believe that God speaks through individuals He has chosen, and that anyone else who tries to figure out what God is thinking by some other method is at a serious disadvantage. I end up following the church and the men who lead it because through various means I've come to understand the truth of what they say bit by bit. I'm not constrained to believe, I'm not forced to follow, and I'm not uncritical as I know I have yet to learn many things. Experience and an indescribable intuition sometimes called the still small voice lead me to become more and more certain that these guys (leaders of the LDS church) know what they're talking about.

That's not to say they know everything, or that they can't be wrong, or that they don't make mistakes. But it is to say they're the ones I need to be paying attention to for the, umm, "straight dope".

There are those who believe not only that the prophets and apostles are not, in fact, prophets and apostles, but that they know they aren't, and that their whole lives are an exercise in deception and fraud. These men spend every ounce of energy testifying of Jesus and the truths He taught. They plead for people to be more honest, for people to love one another. They waste and wear out their lives in service to follow the example of their ostensible leader the Savior... and this is all a crafty cover up of their secretly venomous and dishonest natures and for their diabolical scheme to... what, exactly?

You may have noticed in my sarcasm that I have a pretty firm opinion of those who maintain this line of thinking. They are stupid.

A more compelling argument is that these men honestly believe they are following God and receiving His revelation, but that they are in fact working from their own prejudices combined with various indistinct warm fuzzies. The people who believe this are smarter (and kinder) but I think they are still wrong.

Perhaps the most perplexing group are those that believe they are indeed prophets (or that the church is true) but that they're wrong not only on little things where one could imagine God left it to their own judgment, but on things big enough to warrant statements from the First Presidency, proclamations, and explicit positions on civic matters. I've had my difficulties reconciling my views on some of the issues, but one that seems particularly unequivocal is that gay sex is wrong. I can acutely appreciate misgivings about the best form of governance on this matter, but I can't see how the morality of gay sex is up in the air for anyone who has any confidence in the church whatsoever. And since romantic affection with the same gender leads to gay sex, it is also not such a good thing (as opposed to affirming platonic friendships). As I've said before, it's not that they're bad, it's that they're not good enough for the ultimate end God wants for us.

And that leaves someone like me in an unpleasant and lonely predicament. One that I've, after many years, miraculously been relieved of. But my solution (marriage) is not the same miracle God has for everyone similarly situated. In fact, I firmly agree with church leaders that marriage should never be a form of therapy to try to change a guy straight, and I attribute the high divorce rate of mixed orientation marriages to wedding out of desperation rather than full love and carefully measured honest heart and soul searching. The absence of easy answers leaves a lot of people in an uncomfortable limbo. I was there for a long time, and I realize the waiting is the hardest part. But waiting, changing, and searching can be worth it.

A Congregation of One, part 2

“Oh, Landon. That shouldn’t have happened.” Bishop Peterson peered intently over his desk. I looked away. For some reason I could never hold eye contact for long these days.

My bishop was a dean in the Law School, and perhaps one of the best men I’ve ever known. The Mormon Church uses a lay ministry—nobody is paid for leading a congregation or for any other work in the church. Consequently, the range in quality and expertise one can find in Mormon bishops is vast. Bishop Peterson was, without a doubt, the most enlightened and genuinely Christ-like bishop I had ever had the privilege of knowing.

My previous bishop had actually been my brother, fourteen years my senior. I had just recounted to Bishop Peterson that while in my brother’s congregation I had met with a church social worker who had recommended counseling to appropriately address my “same sex attraction.” When I showed some concern over the cost, he said the church had a policy to fund such counseling. He would notify my bishop that I had need of counseling services, all while respecting my confidentiality by not disclosing the specific issue, and I wouldn’t have to pay a thing. I agreed. Only a short time later after being “released” from my job in the church teaching the teenage men in the ward did I realize there were probably very few situations that warranted unquestioned subsidization of counseling services by church offerings. Undoubtedly, my release was not coincidental. I had unwillingly been outted to my brother, but not in a way that would ever allow either of us to address it directly. From then on and forever more it would be the elephant in the room.

I have long been very comfortable with my situation. I wouldn’t mind family or church members knowing I’m attracted to men if I could just have a guarantee that they wouldn’t treat me any differently. Some would and some wouldn’t. So I see no benefit and plenty of risk. And I wouldn’t mind my gay friends knowing that I’ve chosen to be married and have a conventional family because of my religion if I could just guarantee that they would be understanding and supportive and wouldn’t try to “out” me for my own good. Or do something worse. There are bigots on both ends of the conservative-liberal spectrum. I was safe from neither.

“Well, bishop, it’s okay. I understand nobody meant it to happen that way.”

“Well, I think it’s inexcusable. However you decide to deal with this, I’m so glad you are willing to let me help bear this burden. I’m here for you to talk to whenever you may need it. And I’ll try to think if there’s anything else I can do.” He paused and leaned back in his chair. “I obviously don’t have any training in this area, but I want to help however I can.”

Unlike some encounters I had heard of between gay Mormons and their bishops, mine had been wonderful. I actually felt better about myself walking out of the room than I did walking in. I felt like a courageous person who was dealing admirably with a challenge that few could ever understand—not just being gay, but being gay and Mormon simultaneously. Really gay and really Mormon. I was managing.

Index for A Congregation of One
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8

Depth of Conversion

"Conversion" has nice rhetorical relevance to this blog, given the name. It's about change. And while changing sexual orientation has been on my mind quite a bit of late, the evidence is pretty weighted against that. Conversion to greater satisfaction with hetero sex may be more likely. Hell, that's already happened, come to think of it. But I'm not ruling out the possibility of full flung conversion--there's anecdotal evidence it is possible however improbable.

But the conversion I'm pondering tonight is conversion to the gospel. Testimony is having a knowledge of the truth, conversion is putting it into practice. I once asked my seminary teacher, "Why wouldn't someone who knows something put it into practice? Why would they just act differently?" He pointed out that that's the whole point of life. We must learn to act on things we know... and part of that is avoiding doing what we know is wrong. And as we do that, I guess, we get converted.

"Depth" of conversion is another matter. I remember when I was a kid, my Mom was a doomsday 2nd coming buff. She loved to talk about it, and most of the time scared the crap out of me. But one of the interesting things we talked about was how many in the church would fall away before the 2nd coming. I thought this was ridiculous. I mean, if it's actually part of the prophecy that part of the people would fall away, then why wouldn't people guard against it? Why wouldn't they figure out a way to side-step the risks? Why wouldn't they actually see it happening, realize that it was exactly what was predicted, and then pull their butts back to being faithful? What sort of depth of conversion is necessary to survive?

I have no answers even now. As I see friends and relatives leave the church, I'm struck with amazement as I watch the inexplicable fulfillment of those childhood lessons. People seem to leave for a wide variety of reasons, but (as predicted) most of them can be traced back to pride and sin of various kinds. I realize this indictment of mine can be offensive to those choosing to leave the church, but it still seems to fit well as a rule. And I'm amazed.

So, how does one like me get the "depth" of conversion necessary to make it through? How can I be one of those virgins with the spare oil? I appeal to your collective wisdom.