Idolatry

There is a philosophy of moralism that consists of timeless moral principles. Most of the Judeo-Christian world holds the ancient injunction "Thou shalt not kill" to be a transcendent and absolute principle. To seek timeless principles of value to live by is a noble venture; to be moral is good; to be good is good--but if that is the only end we are seeking, then even goodness and morality can become idolatrous.... When the quest for principles and morals becomes our sole focus--and even our god--we encounter problems when a commandment is given that doesn't seem to have a foundational principle or moral we can immediately understand.... Lacking the understanding that "man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend" (Mosiah 4:9), individuals may cast aside a commandment in the belief that they can still be "good" without it. For the sake of goodness, they may be able to; but for the sake of Christ, discipleship, and holiness, they cannot. Those who try to find salvation simply in goodness are trying to build a latter-day tower of Babel. They rationalize that if there is a heaven, surely a "good" God wouldn't cast out His "good" children.

Ty Mansfield in
In Quiet Desperation

This was my favorite part of Ty's book. I saved this post up from back when I was reviewing the book, and now seems to be a good time to bust it out. The idea that morality itself could be idolatry (and therefore, somehow immoral) is really interesting. I find I believe it. Same goes for love as idolatry, happiness as idolatry, and all the other good and wonderful things I've seen people use to justify their behavior when it conflicts with God's expectation. Take your favorite virtue and use it to trump God, and voila: idolatry.

Benjamin has been explaining to me here how following prophets can be a form of idolatry, and I'm inclined to agree in some particular instance. When we follow prophets for their own sakes, when we are enamored with the men themselves, when the office is secondary to the person and therefore God is secondary to the person, it's idolatry. On the other hand, justifying not following God's prophet because it doesn't fit with our own personal feelings of what is right for us seems to be a very dangerous place to go. I'm all for personal responsibility in making choices and having integrity, etc., etc., but that doesn't equate with accepting one's own opinions as the last word on what must be right.

There are many aces to be played in the issues of life. They trump the suit, after all. "If men are that they might have joy, then I really have to do what I know makes me the happiest." "If God is love, I just can't believe that God doesn't want me to accept the beautiful love I naturally feel." "God wants me to get away from my self-hate, and now I'm sure he approves of the better place I'm in."

If only there were some way God could clarify the issues when things got confusing... if he had some sort of specific method of communicating with those who are trying to follow him that was less subjectively influenced by the natural man... if only someone on Earth could explain His will and speak with His authority... then I could accept the communication as from God and know that I'm avoiding the idolatry of morality, avoiding trusting the arm of the flesh, avoiding making God in my own image rather than the other way around.

If only.

On your honor

"It is Ellidyr who paid the final price," Taran said slowly. "The last honor belongs to him." He spoke then of Islimach [his suicidal horse]. "He has lost all else, even his steed."

"Or perhaps gained all," Gwydion answered. "And his honor shall be certain. We shall raise a barrow to his memory. Islimach, too, shall rest with him, for they are both now at peace. Smoit's dead shall also sleep in honor, and a barrow be raised above Morgant King of Madoc."

"Morgant?" Taran asked, turning a puzzled glance to Gwydion. "How can there be honor for such a man?"

"It is easy to judge evil unmixed," replied Gwydion. "But, alas, in most of us good and bad are closely woven as the threads on a loom; greater wisdom than mine is needed for the judging."

I've been encouraged to be honorable as a boy scout (the scout oath), in school (the honor roll), and as a missionary ("return with honor"). I've never been a huge fan of conceptual honor, exactly, as it makes me think we're talking about reputation. But I suppose the self-perception and moral identity aspects of honor are good ones to support.

So, The Black Cauldron is all about honor. But my initial reaction was a less-than-enthusiastic one since the way they talk about honor reminds me of my brushes with renaissance fairs. Through a series of events I won't describe, I found myself dishonorably clothed in jeans and t-shirt in the midst of dozens of back-clapping, cod-piece wearing fellas who seemed to stare at me as if I were a freak. The blemish on my family's escutcheon will be difficult to buff.

What I loved about it after reading it, though, was the contrast between the honor Ellidyr wanted (which was based on others' perceptions and was a complete sham and he would have known it) vs. the honor an assistant pig keeper can hold in his own heart regardless of having little status in the world. While the message seems to be that the honor does not derive from who we are, but from how we behave, I extend that in my mind to be an endorsement of the idea of seeking God's honor or some sort of self satisfaction rather than "aspiring to the honors of men."

This is also an appropriate time to think about this topic because recently I felt very humiliated in a public forum. I felt misunderstood and frankly victimized by angry folks who have obviously been deeply hurt themselves and lost a lot of perspective. Looking back, I recognize that group dynamics sometimes dictate harsh perceptions of certain points of view, but that harshness and the dishonor heaped on you by the mob are ridiculous. It's good practice to worry not what others think, just what God thinks or what I think of myself.

Honor means having a good work ethic, paying for what I receive, respecting others, being honest, etc., and I suppose this all equates to being a disciple of Christ for me. And even though I'm more of a Morgant some days than a Taran, I'm happy to keep trying to make the closely woven threads of good and bad in my loom lean toward the good.

Weakness

Some do refer to same-gender attraction as their "weakness," as if it were some kind of spiritual illness, often quoting the words of Moroni about the Lord giving "men weakness that they may be humble" (Ether 12:27). But to refer to same-gender attraction as a "weakness" can be misguided. Our challenges and our temptations are not what should be considered "weak," for it is through challenge and opposition that we are made strong--if we will turn to Christ and to the power and grace He offers through His atoning sacrifice. Our challenges simply reveal unto us our true weaknesses or spiritual illnesses--the doubt and fear of putting our lives completely in the Lord's hands--and the weakness of faith in God that would allow us to submit to whatever challenges or temptations beset us. Christ was tempted, and He had challenges, but He was never weak.

Ty Mansfield in In Quiet Desperation

It occurs to me before I get started that I may just be splitting hairs. But, actually, that's what I do sometimes. ;-) I have to take issue with Ty on the weakness issue (and probably with a majority of everyone else too!). I consider it wholly appropriate to refer to SGA as a "weakness" or a "problem". That's exactly how I think of it. However, in my mind, there's no moral culpability with that. So, yes, I agree at least that it isn't a spiritual weakness.

Let me make an analogy to, well, weakness itself. After a stroke, a person may have weakness. There's nothing "wrong" with that person in the moral sense, no reason to discriminate, but it's a real weakness nonetheless. There's something "wrong" with them in the physical sense. One might apply Ty's argument to say, "Our challenges [like muscular weakness] are not what should be considered 'weak,' for it is through challenge and opposition that we are made strong--if we will turn to Christ and to the power and grace He offers through His atoning sacrifice." After some physical therapy, muscular weakness may be made strong, but there's a chance the effects of the stroke will be permanent, through no fault of that person's. It may be that the person is "made strong" by accepting appropriate occupational therapy to learn new ways to accomplish activities of daily living given the permanent residual weakness. So one can be strong in one's weakness. But it's still a weakness.

I can understand the sense of celebration associated with Coming Out Day considering the importance of achieving conceptual maturity by accepting oneself as gay and not being ashamed. But, for me, accepting myself as gay (or, more specifically, as same-gender attracted) without shame achieves that same celebration-worthy insight while I still believe there's something "wrong" with it. Being attracted to men isn't wrong in the moral sense, but it's definitely wrong in the reproductive sense, an important part of who I am eternally. It's a weakness--one that may or may not be changed in this life--but, as Ty apparently doesn't care to hear, it's a weakness that I believe Moroni's words very much apply to, and that one way or another can be made strong.

What to teach children

Being a father, and simultaneously being clueless, I sometimes get a little disturbed about how I'm going to raise my kids to be the happy, healthy, smart, perfect little citizens I want them to be. I've found in many other areas in life that setting one's expectations low makes for delighted feelings of exceeding expectations later. So, that's a start. I'm fully expecting them to hate my guts, fail at all their social and academic endeavors, and be recalcitrant menaces. There. All set.

But I will feel responsible if I haven't done my darnedest to help them learn and grow. I know I'm the one who has to take the responsibility for teaching them about life. FoxyJ mentioned in a comment a while back that, "a lot of your attitudes and thoughts are going to come from a family setting" and that sounds perfectly true. So, what will I teach my kids about being gay? What will I teach them about using alcohol and tobacco? Caffeine? Pierced ears and tattoos?

In that same post, Samantha relayed a discussion with her laurel class about "the choice" of being gay. Apparently, in a discussion on "Personal Purity through Self-Discipline," one of the laurels said she hated it when kids at school said they were gay and acted in a certain way just to get attention. Samantha put to rest any speculation about what is and is not a choice about being gay and was waiting for fallout with parents. I don't know that any fallout ever came, but I can easily imagine the situation being that a teacher had given my children a biased and unfriendly view of gays without my knowledge. I would have no way of knowing the discussion took place unless I proactively taught such topics to my family myself. Three cheers for FHE.

But what will I teach?

I'm not sure I would have dealt as well with the situation in Samantha's laurel class as well as she did. My teenage niece one day made a comment similar to that laurel, and the ensuing discussion left me feeling confused. She had complained that she felt the gay kids at school who were out and proud of their sexuality and getting scholarships based on their sexual orientation and activism, were loudly obnoxious and belittling to her for her religious views. When children are recognized for a sexual orientation they didn't choose, rewarded for their activism on a moral topic we disagree with, I can understand feeling adversarial and victimized when they turn around and seem loudly intolerant back. And, dear niece, your sexual orientation, being straight and all, is nothing special.

I grew up knowing that smoking was evil. Tobacco was a filthy weed and alcohol was a pernicious nectar. And such a moral background served me well. I've never in my life had alcohol, tobacco, coffee or tea, and I'm doubtless better off for it. But, I also grew up thinking that those who did smoke were bad people. And that's regrettable.

How do I teach a sensitive morality sophisticated enough to distinguish between appropriate actions for us and appropriate actions for others? I'm not sure it can be done.

How will I teach the distinction between inclinations, feelings, and actions, when I'm not completely comfortable with the topic myself?

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.

9/11

I watched United 93 a couple nights ago. It was a powerful movie. There is one scene in which several of the passengers in the rear of the plane are muttering the Lord's Prayer while the pilots are muttering Islamic prayers up front. It's powerful and disturbing. It's a caution.

I usually think it's easy to distinguish between good and bad religion, but I'm not so confident all the time. A popular technique is to measure it against what you know to be good or bad independent of that religion, but I think that only takes you so far. Sometimes what's good seems bad and what's bad seems good. And apparently I'm siding with terrorists here. (I don't really know much about it.) And that's the scary part (dangerous, if you prefer).

I've blogged before about such departures from what you might expect God to advocate. Perhaps one distinction is that when God does depart from what you would expect of Him, He only does it through prophets. So maybe Moses or Abraham or Joseph Smith or another prophet can give unexpected directions from God, but you can't kneel down and pray and determine that your own little boy is the Messiah and that you should therefore starve him (as one couple did in Utah several years ago).

But, there are those false prophets, so the responsibility comes right back at you. I remember being invited to hear a prophet speak on my mission. It was quite odd believing, as I do, that there are prophets, but that whoever the speaker in question was, he wasn't one of them and was therefore a false prophet. You judge a system of belief by your feelings, your feelings should be guided by what you know to be good and true already, and then specific problems in life are judged by consistency with that belief system. But feelings are unreliable, what is good and true can be excepted by God, and the complexity of life makes for frequent inconsistencies.

And yet, at the end of the day I feel fine about knowing the church is true, how I came to that knowledge, and the unexpected sacrifices that knowledge compels me to make.

It's a topic I don't really get. One of many. I think my mind makes it too broad and can't quite chew on all of it at once. I just cling to the little I know because it feels right enough to guide my everyday actions.

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.

Buried Life

"No one’s spirit is gay or straight, but right now, in this life, as Gerald Pearson, I am a homosexual. I have got to follow that. You’re right. I could be celibate. If I didn’t >need to know and feel and experience, if I were content to just live on the surface of things, I could give it all up. I could squash myself down and bind myself up and tell life to go around and not through me. But, Blossom, I’m a person who needs to live! I am not an empty person. I’ve got to plunge into a life and find out what’s there for me! If I don’t, I’ll gradually die, piece by piece by piece. And I’ll be of no value to anybody, not you or the children or myself!"

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

I found this highly offensive. I tried not to. But, Gerald, am I then an "empty person"? Is life merely going around and not through me? Am I not truly living? [Makes obscene gesture at Gerald.]

Gerald isn't the first I've heard make this charge, and he's no doubt not the last. I can imagine if I were him I would quickly add that what I say applies to nobody but myself... that I mean only that I could not live such a life, but that others might (although secretly to myself I would doubt it).

Actually, I have said something very much like that. When people ask me if I think every gay Mormon man should get married I say that my path is only for me. And it's a constant theme in the gay Mormon blogs that each one must reach down deep inside one's self and decide how to deal with this difficult situation.

But then there's that nagging absolutist deep down inside of me trying to claw out. Trying to say, "No, the answer for EVERYBODY is to trust that God knows more about our happiness than we do ourselves. What we can feel is so limited. We're like young children screaming to get away from the needle coming at us, the needle that will save our life."

And then the pragmatic L steps in and sasses back, "People know what makes them happy. They know it more than they know that something unseen and unsure can improve on the here and now." And then the absolutist L violently assaults the pragmatic L with an anvil and the spectator L grabs the popcorn.

The two L's invariably come to a compromise. The absolutist L, being much older and stronger, lays down the law that I internally acknowledge that everyone will be better off following God, but the spry and resilient pragmatic L won't back down until the concession is made that everyone should be allowed to figure that out for themselves, even if it's a tragedy. Gerald, for example, got a lot less life than he expected. And that's not just because he died of AIDS. He was unhappy as a gay man (although I'll save the quote on that for a later post).

But, pragmatic L insists, plenty of gay guys are plenty happy. It's not all tragedies. Absolutist L mutters under his breath, "Yeah, in this life." And spectator L throws his popcorn at the two and says, "Shut up, the poem is coming up."

...Alas! is even love too weak
To unlock the heart, and let it speak?
Are even lovers powerless to reveal
To one another what indeed they feel?
I knew the mass of men conceal'd
Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal'd
They would by other men be met
With blank indifference, or with blame reproved;
I knew they lived and moved
Trick'd in disguises, alien to the rest
Of men, and alien to themselves--and yet
The same heart beats in every human breast!
...
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us--to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.
...

-Matthew Arnold

When Gerald heard this poem on Music and the Spoken Word, it was the first moment he knew absolutely that he was gay. Spectator L munches on a handful of junior mints and chuckles at the irony of why the poem was probably included in that religious program vs. how Gerald interpreted it.

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.

Eternal sex

There is, I admit, something definitionally inadequate about sex with my wife. I deny charges that we don't have adequate emotional intimacy or sexual intimacy or more intimacy than you can shake a stick at, but there is something there to be desired. And that's why I'm trying to objectively look at the data about changing my sexual orientation. It's actually quite difficult with the shrieking always in the background from people who (wrongly) claim that the question is already answered, or that I'm bound to end up suicidal if I undertake such an interest and hope.

Not to worry, I'm not going to become suicidal. And even if I don't achieve certified straight sex in my life, the sex we do have will suffice quite nicely, I'm sure. And the happiness and intimacy we currently share in our marriage increases constantly and I have no reason to believe that will stop despite the expressed fears of some that marriages like mine end up like some prison sentence.

Even if, as the data seems to suggest, deliberately changing one's sexual orientation is unlikely in this life, I still think I'll achieve "full sexual expression" in the next life. I mentioned something about resurrection in the SLT article and it was quoted on some blogs and ridiculed savagely. (Savage ridicule is so... worthy of reciprocity.) Granted, I can't annotate a great concordance with all the scriptural references for my belief in this department, but my thoughts seem highly consistent with what I know about the gospel and our eventual destination.

I think the biological components of same sex attraction--the actual neurological pathways and genetics and brain imprinting--will be "healed" in the resurrection to be consistent with the actual purpose of the reproductive system. The psychological aspects like emotional ties and relationships I'm not so sure about (which is one reason I think chastity is an eternal true principle). Ties to men loved during mortality will no longer be supported by physical attraction nor sanctioned by legal or divine authority. A life of love and common experiences will end when we're set to whatever our eternal jobs will be. But the emotional ties will probably remain, and to that end gays will have inadvertently created an eternal situation ironically similar to the temporary one I'm in now--one in which they are not fully sexually compatible with the person with whom they've shared their life. I imagine this might be an instance in which my imagined explanation of why gay love is ultimately wrong applies... of why gay love is good, but not good enough.

Anyway, those musings are ancillary to the true point of this post. The point is, I look forward to a time when, if not in this life then the next, I will be fully sexually compatible with my wife. What a foolish thing, some believe, to gamble so much on faith in a situation after death. But, I'm happy to do it. Gambling on my spirituality has yielded nothing but returns so far.

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

Fault

We’re not talking about a unique challenge here. We’re talking about a common condition of mortality. We don’t understand exactly the ‘why,’ or the extent to which there are inclinations or susceptibilities and so on. But what we do know is that feelings can be controlled and behavior can be controlled. The line of sin is between the feelings and the behavior. The line of prudence is between the susceptibility and the feelings. We need to lay hold on the feelings and try to control them to keep us from getting into a circumstance that leads to sinful behavior.

-Elder Dallin H. Oaks

There is a great underlying need in the human psyche to avoid blaming oneself. Otherwise rational people can become completely unreasonable after having done something regrettable. To the extent that my current situation is the result of my own poor choices in the past, I am certainly inclined to say "it's not my fault." I'm inclined to justify and explain why the circumstances conspired against me. Why anyone would have done the same. Why I'm still a good person.

Fully convinced that regardless of it all, I am still a good person, God still loves me, and my infinite value has not been compromised, I now want to step back and seek to understand more about myself without pulling any self-inflicted punches. Unfortunately, as I do so, I expect my conclusions to be extrapolated to others who will feel attacked, and I will probably be roundly criticized. But I'll go ahead and risk it.

Elder Oaks has long been one of my favorite speakers. He's articulate, logical, and just plain fascinating. His insight is astounding, and although I don't always understand immediately what he is saying, I'm always better off for having thought about it.

In particular I've struggled to understand his explanation of the distinction between inclinations, feelings, and behaviors and when one is responsible for each. My medical training inclines me to believe there are situations in which behaviors are not chosen (and the doctrine of the innocence of little children and developmentally disabled persons seems to support this), and I think there are certainly cases where negative feelings are fostered leaving the person culpable for them. But I think these are the exceptions and feelings are typically not chosen while behaviors are. Oaks, I think, agrees.

Feelings are another matter. Some kinds of feelings seem to be inborn. Others are traceable to mortal experiences. Still other feelings seem to be acquired from a complex interaction of “nature and nurture.” All of us have some feelings we did not choose, but the gospel of Jesus Christ teaches us that we still have the power to resist and reform our feelings (as needed) and to assure that they do not lead us to entertain inappropriate thoughts or to engage in sinful behavior.

-Elder Dallin H. Oaks

Some have taken this assessment to be a condemnation of gays for not being able to control their feelings. I think this is an unkind interpretation. I, for one, am plagued by continued unwanted feelings of attraction for men around me. It's happened this morning already, actually. It happens all the time.

For example, during this morning's conference meeting I saw a resident physician that I'm particularly attracted to. When I see him or think about him, I'm faced with a choice of what my mind will do. I can imagine making out with him, or touching his chest, or something perhaps more graphic yet, or I can rummage through my brain and try to remember why it is that I chose to be married. To remember why I believe chastity is virtuous. Honestly, I've responded to attractive men both ways. Over time I believe the better response has become more frequent. It's something I've tried to make happen. Unfortunately, in the past the unworthy response has been fostered and entertained. It's something that has nudged me toward relapsing in porn. It's something I've controlled one way or another through effort or laziness... I either consciously direct my feelings and thoughts or I let them slide where they will. To be the man I want to be, I have a long way to go.

I think my response to these thoughts and feelings contributes to the "inclination" issue. If I have a very graphic fantasy, I'm likely to immediately gravitate to such thoughts next time I see a hot guy. My inclination toward homosexuality is increased. And, honestly, I think this is true for me. I think I've done this and it has contributed to my homosexuality. Even now, as I type this, I've had to consciously work to not absolve myself of blame because my mind keeps telling me such a failure reflects on my value as a person. But that's the fallacy I need to avoid, not the oft suggested fallacy that is actually a truth that my thoughts are largely my own.

I have a feeling God is going to bless me with a long life. I'll keep doing my best to eradicate unwanted feelings, and I think that's what Elder Oaks is suggesting I do. I still have those feelings, but I'm not a bad person.

Cooties

Whether homosexuality is a disease or not doesn't matter to me for the typical reasons. But it's interesting to think about, and I do have a few opinions.

There are good reasons not to call it a disease separate from all the political and activist posturing. Historically diseases carry stigma (they shouldn't, but they do). A couple hundred years ago diseases were thought to have not a single etiological cause, but to result from any of several sufficient causes that were associated with character or moral weaknesses. Even now physicians get lots of training on not making value judgments about patient behaviors. If they're 500 pounds because they have no self control, you don't treat them any differently. If they come in every 2 weeks with a new STD, you just give them antibiotics and some advice on how to avoid a future problem. But, this clinical detachment doesn't always work, and even for diseases with etiologies completely outside the person's control, people sometimes judge. To the extent that homosexuality has long been characterized as a disease as indicative of moral deficiency and weak character, it has rightly been removed from the DSM as a psychiatric illness.

However, I think there are still good reasons to call homosexuality a disease too. Sure, I'm willing to concede that there's no necessary psychopathology, but what about just plain old physiologic pathology? It's rare to find professionals who connect the reproductive system with reproduction, for some reason, but you can't reproduce with a gay reproductive drive without some conscious intervention. I'd say that qualifies it for most definitions of disease I've seen. And mitigating a disease doesn't change it's status as a disease, it just changes its status to "controlled" or "cured". For those (like me) who would prefer to be sexually attracted to women for purposes of procreation, having righteously dissociated homosexuality from disease status or pathology of any kind effectively eliminates my access to relevant medical or psychiatric care, a crime all on its own.

Professional medical organizations spend a lot of time lobbying for or against CMS (Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services) designation of something as a disease because it always translates into reimbursement for medical services provided. For example, if obesity is a disease, you get reimbursed for someone coming in to your doctor's office and working out a treatment plan. If it's not a disease, you either don't get paid or you have to put down an associated diagnosis that is a disease (like diabetes, or high blood pressure, or sleep apnea). In the case of homosexuality, if I want professional help (rather than having a do-it-yourself and safety-be-damned attitude) I have to pony up the cash myself because everyone's so afraid I'll be stigmatized by being labeled as "diseased". For crying freaking out loud, label me and let me pay my $20 copay!!!

But, oh yeah. It's not about what's best for me. It's about pushing for civil rights. I'll just be a martyr then. Since I have no choice.

Morality and reason

Let us suppose for a moment that the harder virtues could really be theoretically justified with no appeal to objective value. It still remains true that no justification of virtue will enable a man to be virtuous. Without the aid of trained emotions the intellect is powerless against the animal organism. I had sooner play cards against a man who was quite skeptical about ethics, but bred to believe that "a gentleman does not cheat," than against an irreproachable moral philosopher who had been brought up among sharpers. In battle it is not syllogisms that will keep the reluctant nerves and muscles to their post in the third hour of the bombardment. The crudest sentimentalism… about a flag or a country or a regiment will be of more use.

C.S.Lewis,
in The Abolition of Man

This book is quite complex, and any quotation threatens to be misinterpreted as out of context. The entire book is the context. It’s short and hard to isolate aphorisms. Anyway, the "trained emotions" he is referring to is traditional values. He is testifying (I think) to the importance of having been taught independently moral principles. He is making the case for teaching sentimentalism. Teaching children patriotism. Teaching morality. He makes the interesting case that without natural moral law, there can be no valid arguments to create morality through reason.

The Innovator is trying to get a conclusion in the imperative mood out of premises in the indicative mood: and though he continues trying to all eternity he cannot succeed, for the thing is impossible. We must therefore either extend the word Reason to include what our ancestors called Practical Reason and confess that judgements such as society ought to be preserved …are not mere sentiments but are rationality itself: or else we must give up at once, and for ever, the attempt to find a core of "rational" value behind all the sentiments we have debunked.

The abolition of man

…Righteousness, correctness, order, the Rta, is constantly identified with satya or truth, correspondence to reality. As Plato said that the Good was "beyond existence" and Wordsworth that through virtue the stars were strong, so the Indian masters say that the gods themselves are born of the Rta and obey it. The Chinese also speak of a great thing (the greatest thing) called the Tao. It is the reality beyond all predicates, the abyss that was before the Creator Himself. It is Nature, it is the Way, the Road. It is the Way in which the universe goes on, the Way in which things everlastingly emerge, stilly and tranquilly, into space and time. It is also the Way which every man should tread in imitation of that cosmic and supercosmic progression, conforming all activities to that great exemplar. "In ritual," say the Analects, "it is harmony with Nature that is prized." The ancient Jews likewise praise the Law as being "true."

C.S.Lewis,
in The Abolition of Man

Moving past Parks, today I picked up The Abolition of Man, by C. S. Lewis. That man is a smart guy. Unfortunately, much of what he writes is difficult for me to understand. This is probably due to some combination of his use of British idioms, the date of the text, and ubiquitous allusions to literature I’ve never studied. Oh yeah, and that it’s just thick stuff. Regardless, I always find it a pleasure to consider his thoughts. I’ve had this book for over 10 years (as part of a Lewis set) and today was the first time I’ve read it. I usually go back to favorites I’ve read in the past. But perusing this today turned out to be quite apropos.

Comments on my Parks posts reminded me that I’ve noticed two disparate views on the homosexual condition. Proponents of one view seem to hold a relativistic philosophy in general. Love, truth, and good are all to be discovered from within. Lewis doesn’t mention homosexuality a single time, so the application to this topic is purely my own. But I would hold that Lewis would object to such views. Lewis believes in natural moral law—independent of preference or dislike. And I find it difficult to consider the alternate view as plausible, based on the explanations I’ve heard.