On Thursday, November 5th I drove to California to visit my
friends Ian and Amy. It had been more
than a year since I'd seen them so while we ate dinner and caught up on our
lives I ignored my phone buzzing in my pocket.
When I finally pulled it out I had a few messages from friends in Tucson
saying that the Mormon internet was exploding with news of new policy from the
church. I had no idea what they were
talking about. After some more chatting
with Ian and Amy and playing with their kids for a bit I got online to see what
was up. When I read that a new policy
stated that entering into a same-gender marriage was now considered apostasy I
was stunned. Most of the reactions I saw
online were either anger and betrayal or simply disbelief or confusion. Since the announcement hadn't come directly
from the church a lot of people thought it was a hoax or misinformation. I fell into that camp and decided to wait for
official word from the church.
Even though I've known Ian and Amy for years I only came out
to them last year via email. We hadn't
seen each other since then so we spent some time talking about my experiences
as a gay Mormon and what that has meant for me.
We also discussed the new policy at length. When the interview with Elder Christofferson
was posted I watched it alone with anxious anticipation. I was hoping that he would repudiate the
policy, apologize for the misinformation, and talk about how awesome his gay
brother Tom is. But instead he justified
and explained the policy. I felt sick. Ian hadn't watched the interview yet and he
asked me what I thought. I just
responded with my gut reaction, "I didn't care for it."
My initial thought after watching the interview was, "I
don't want to do this anymore. I just
want to be dead." The Brethren drew
a very clear line in the sand which only leaves two options for me as a gay man
if I want to stay in the church: marry a woman or stay single for the rest of
my life. Both of those options sounded
terrible and at the moment I didn't feel like trying. I should also say that at no point was I
suicidal, I just felt extremely discouraged.
You see, deep down I want to be an apostate. And by saying that I don't mean that I want
to turn away from the truth, but that I really, really want to be in a
committed relationship with a man that I love.
In fact, I want that so bad that it's the second most thing I want in
this life. The only thing that trumps it
is my desire to do God's will. And
that's where the desiring death comes in.
If I want to stay in the church I can't have a committed relationship to
a man. Not only is it considered a sin,
but it's a sin so bad that I'd be considered an apostate. This was perplexing to me because I'm human
and I know what it's like to feel sorrow when I sin, to want to repent, and the
joy that comes when I feel I've become a better person. But there was a time when I really fell for a
guy. And not just a crush, but like
really, really loved another man and loving him didn't feel like a sin to
me. In fact, it felt really
awesome.
Two years ago I totally fell for my best friend and he fell for me even more. He was smarter, funnier, and cuter than me. We would talk for hours on end and I just always wanted to be with him. My journal is riddled with entries where I express how happy I was to have him in my life. I was baffled that someone so handsome and cool was interested me. And what was even crazier was that he felt the same way about me. He felt like I was getting the raw end of the deal and that he was the lucky one. I was completely committed to keeping the commandments and especially committed to keeping the covenants I had made with God. I thought that my best friend and I could share our lives and have a platonic friendship. I naively thought that we could make that work. One day he asked if I'd be his boyfriend and even though I yearned to say yes I said no. A few weeks later he asked me again and with more pain than before I again told him no. A little more time passed and he once again asked if I'd be his boyfriend and even though I loved him more than any of the girls I had dated and I wanted very much to say yes, I told him no. He told me that he didn't want to be someone's Abrahamic sacrifice. He didn't want to be the sacrifice that someone made to show God how faithful he could be. And yet that is what my best friend had become to me, the thing I was willing to sacrifice for God. Since we couldn't have a real relationship he said that we needed to part ways and we did. Losing him from my life was one of the most painful things that has ever happened to me because I really loved him and wanted to date him, but I knew I couldn't. My heart told me one thing and my church told me another. I had to choose and I chose my church.
The story I just told is incredibly reductive. There's no way I could do justice to one of
the most important and formative experiences of my life in a paragraph. But I tell that very simplified story so that
people will see that to me it didn't feel like a sin to love another man. It felt wonderful and good. All those cheesy movies and love songs
suddenly made sense to me even though they hadn't for the first 29 years of my
life (I know, such a cliché thing to say, but it's true). And I was willing to give it all away to do
what I felt to be God's will. The
memories of this time flooded into my mind after I listened to Elder
Christofferson's interview. I realized that if I wanted to stay in this
church and hope for the eternal life and future that it promises, that I wasn't
allowed to hope for this thing that I wanted so bad. And knowing that I wasn't allowed to hope for
that made me think that I'd be better off dead.
I woke up the next morning to a text message from a friend
in Utah expressing her love for me and telling me how much she wished that we
lived close to each other so she could see me regularly. She wrote in part, "What a great
blessing that would be to me to have such a good friend in my life. You're the best." Over the next 24 hours I got Facebook
messages, emails, texts, and phone calls from dozens of people asking how I was
doing, expressing love for me, and telling me how much I meant to them. All these messages reminded me of how great
my life is and the desire for the grave I had felt the previous night left and
shows no sign of returning. The visceral
response I initially had went away as I saw and felt all the love and empathy
that exists in my community. And the
future looked bright and happy again.
That day I spent a lot of time with Ian, Amy, and their
kids. Their three year old constantly
tried to get my attention by asking me silly questions like if I'd like to eat
a whale. Then he'd yell, "Look at
my sock!" and I'd look. Then he'd
yell, "Look at my other sock!" and I'd look again. It was pretty adorable. Amy told me how much she hoped I'd get a job
in California so I could live close to them.
Ian said, "I know you haven't left yet, but when are you going to
come back?" Amy then suggested that
I visit twice a year and Ian offered that I visit at least once a quarter. It was hard to be annoyed or angry at a
policy when so many wonderful people were telling me how much they wanted me in
their lives.
Over the weekend both Ian and Amy expressed a lot of empathy
for the choice I have to make between being part of the church and marrying a
man I love. During one of our
conversations Amy said, "If the church brought back polygamy I just
couldn't do it. I don't think I could
live like that." I've heard a lot
women in the church say similar things, that polygamy is a deal breaker for
them. They would refuse to participate
in it. However, I think they're looking
at things a little too simplistically. I
think that most of them, if they felt they were being commanded by God to do,
would do it. They would weep, they would
struggle, they would get mad at God, but they would obey trusting that their
Heavenly Father knows best. Some would
leave, of course, but I think many would have their hearts broken and would remain
in the church that they believe is true.
And this scenario isn't too crazy.
The doctrine of plural marriage still exists in our scriptures and could
theoretically be reinstated any day.
I feel like I'm being asked to live polygamy. Now obviously I haven't been asked to have
multiple wives (and thank goodness for that!), but just like the men and women
of 19th century Mormonism, I have made decisions relating to marriage that have
broken my heart because I believe the tenets of my religion. I'm sure that many of the men and women who
entered into polygamous marriages because of their faith in "the
principle" as they called it would have preferred to be in monogamous
relationships. And there are gay members
of the church who would prefer to marry someone of their same gender, but who
remain single and celibate because of "the policy." If you want to have a little taste of the
choices we gay members of the church have to make, take some time to imagine
how you would respond if you were asked to participate in a plural
marriage.
Is it fair that my religion requires so much of its
members? That's for each individual to
decide. Those who don't believe would
say that I'm being foolish. I have felt
pitied by those not of my faith for the choice that I make to stay single. But if I entered into a same-sex marriage my
church would condemn me. Elder Perry
would have described the love I'd have for my husband as "counterfeit
love." I have heard rational people
say to me, "Stop living your life according to the rules of your homophobic
church. Just be yourself." And I have heard others say, "Just
follow the prophet, he knows the way."
But it's not that simple. There
are two things I want and I can't have them both. So I pray and I fast and I read and I ponder
and I serve and I try to figure out what God wants me to do. And I feel called to live my life the way
that I am living it.
I simply ask that you don't pity those of us who decide to
be celibate and stay in the church.
We're simply doing what we feel is right. I ask that you don't condemn the gay members
who choose to leave. I have many friends
in that situation and I know that they are simply doing what they feel is
right. We all turn away from the truth
when we sin which technically makes all of us apostates. As President Uchtdorf has said, "Don't
judge me because I sin differently than you do." Especially if that sin is being in a
committed relationship with someone that they love.
I wrote a blog post in June in which I described a lot of
the loneliness I've felt. That was true
for me back then, but the last five months have been incredible, easily one of
the happiest times in my life and I have rarely felt lonely. I could go on and on about all the great
things I do that bring me meaning and happiness, but the things that have been
the most meaningful to me are the outreach I'm doing in my area. I now hold a regular support group for gay
Mormons. A friend and I started Ally
Night where we talk to straight members of the church, share our stories,
answer their questions, and try to expand the empathy and compassion they feel
for gay members. And I had the singular privilege
of addressing a group at the Tucson LDS Institute for fifty minutes about my
experiences as a gay Mormon. I feel like
that is one of the most important things I've ever done.
The Brethren have drawn a line in the sand and I have chosen
my side. I'm committed to doing all I
can to making my side of the line the happiest and healthiest place it can
be. And to those of you who have chosen
the other side of the line, know that I love you and respect you. I do not condemn you. In fact, I often envy you. I just ask that you don't pity me because I
am happy on my side of the line.
We Mormons talk about our pioneer heritage a lot. We're proud of those people who left homes
and families to establish their Zion in the west. They were required to sacrifice a great deal
for their faith. For many, that
sacrifice included being in polygamous marital relationships that tested their
faith and broke their hearts. I feel
like what is being asked of me isn't all that different and I'm happy to
sacrifice for what I believe is the truth.
I'm going to end this post by being a little too cheesy and
quoting a primary song that encapsulates how I'm trying to live my life.
You don't have to push a handcart,
Leave
your fam'ly dear,
Or
walk a thousand miles or more
To
be a pioneer!
You
do need to have great courage,
Faith to conquer fear,
And work with might for a cause that's right
To be a pioneer!