My pacesetter, Moroni

A few weeks ago, I wrote an incredibly negative, selfish, pessimistic and judgmental post about how I needed a pacesetter who could live a life of faithful service within the church while still dealing with homosexuality and loneliness. In that post, I selectively ignored the men that I know who are currently either celibate or in devoted mixed-orientation marriages so that I could focus on those who chose different paths as a means of justifying the possibility that I someday will choose to leave the church, which isn't something I want.

Anyway, so I'm being whiny and emo and honestly, just pining for attention (isn't that what blogging is about?) and that night, I read something that slaps me in the face as hard as a book ever has.

I was reading in Mormon chapter 8. In this chapter, Moroni is closing the record of his father, Mormon, who was killed in battle along with almost every other Nephite during a war with the Lamanites. He is orphaned as bitterly and poignantly as anyone has ever been orphaned, left to walk the earth alone for the rest of his life, constantly looking over his shoulder to avoid the murderous Lamanites that would see him dead along with the rest of his countrymen.

As I was reading, the distinct impression came upon me that he was that pacesetter I said I needed.

I shooed the thought away, saying that Moroni didn't have a choice. For him, it was a matter of life or death, while for me, I could live a long, full life whether or not I chose to live according to the tenets of the gospel.

But then I thought:  Was it really a matter of life or death for him?

This is all speculation and I can't back it up with scripture, but I'd bet that if Moroni approached the Lamanite camps with a white flag over his head, ready to surrender his person and the gold plates in exchange for some human company, the Lamanites would let him live among them, at least as a slave or a peasant.

The human brain literally cannot survive in solitude without rewiring itself. Men who spend their lives in solitary confinement start going mad just a few days into their sentences. Heck, I remember I took a road trip alone a few years ago that took me about four days and even though I was talking to people at every gas stop and food run, I still felt like I was going crazy sitting in my car alone for that long.

I'm sure Moroni had the thought at least once when he felt the loneliness come on that he could perhaps live among the Lamanites.

But instead, he chose a life of solitude and probable insanity because he knew that magnifying his calling and keeping himself clean of that society's moral failures was vital to the Lord's plan. He understood that and voluntarily took upon himself that awful burden of loneliness for the rest of his life.

Unlike Moroni, I have friends and family who love me. I also have the potential, if not the guarantee, that I can perhaps marry and procreate in this life, all within the bounds of the Lord's plan for me. But even if that doesn't happen, I'm not the first Mormon to live alone in order to keep the commandments.
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PS: I don't want to mislead. I have absolutely nothing against people who elect to leave either part or all of the church in favor of a relationship or lifestyle that they find fulfilling. I don't think they're vile sinners, or even that they're misinformed. They're pursuing the course of life that brings them the most joy, which is what we all try to do, eh?