Confessions

A few weeks ago, a friend showed me a website that allows the students of his school to submit confessions anonymously, which then show up on the website. I found a similar website for my school, and the difference is ridiculous.

I go to a church-sponsored school (that narrows it down to one of four) in southeast Idaho (one of one), whereas my friend goes to a state school in Utah.  The posts on his school's webpage were pretty scandalous, people peeing in their roommates' drinks to get secret revenge, twisted sexual fantasies, the list went on and made me (me!) blush.

My school's posts were along the lines of, "I sneak out past curfew," "I told my bishop I had an emotional disorder to get out of a calling," and "Sometimes I go on dates just for a free meal." And yet, in spite of the relative tepidity of my school's confessions, the comments on them were absolutely vilifying.  It was ludicrous that there was more judgement lashed at a girl who took advantage of suitors for free food than there was directed at a guy who had three falsely committal sexual encounters with three different "girlfriends" in the same night.

So, needless to say, I won't be confessing anything on my school's page, anonymous or not. Guess I'll do it here.

So, a few months ago, I made out with a guy. From the day we met, we had a near-instant attraction to each other, and over the course of a few weeks, we really made a connection. Then, one day (the very morning I decided that I wouldn't pursue anything with him), we made out for about an hour in the back seat of my car, a moment which, to be honest, I can't really stop thinking about.

In fact, the only distraction from that moment I can find is when I think about the other time we kissed, which was even more passionate and, if I'm honest, wonderful. To be fair (and to assuage my guilt), we didn't cross any serious morality lines, but it has given me a lot to think about for the past month or two. I honestly don't really know where to take it from here.

He made me feel in those moments of passion like I was the only person in the world, like no one else could take my place in his life. And if it was confined to those moments that I felt like that, then that would be one thing.  If all I was was a warm body and a nice set of lips to him, I could deal with that. I could have a casual, nonsexual relationship with him and still feel secure in my life path. In the grand scheme of things, a boyish lark is nothing to get upset about.

But the problem lies in that it wasn't just in those moments of heat that I felt special, nor that I felt a similar attraction to him.  I found myself thinking about him and his feelings, his schoolwork, his employment, his talents and skills, and on and on.  Whenever we talked, he asked thoughtful questions about my life and I felt special to him as well. It wasn't just lust.

But, as is my way, there's this big hangup I have preventing me from moving forward with him.

It's so strange; every second I sit in church, I find myself continually contending with the teachers and the doctrine in my mind (not out loud, that would be awkward).  I give all these reasons why it doesn't make sense and why the best decision for me would be to just get up and walk out the door and never look back. But I stay. I listen to the lesson or talk, not because I feel compelled to or because I'd be too embarrassed or afraid of rejection if I left.  I sit through church (and legitimately enjoy Institute) because it feeds my soul. It reminds me that there's something greater out there besides me and this handsome, gentle man I find myself attracted to.

I'm desperate. I want to find a balance between the two. Something I haven't told anyone yet: I dreamt that the prophet received revelation that gay marriage wasn't a big deal and God didn't care who His children loved, as long as they were good and kind and considerate of their spouses, and I dreamt it in the context of my own gay wedding. I woke up, bitterly depressed to be shaken back into the real world.

That revelation hasn't happened, and it probably never will.  So I'm stuck in this really obnoxious holding pattern between a religion that makes absolutely no logical sense and doesn't sit well with me some of the time and a potential relationship that, so far, makes perfect sense and makes me happy, but also doesn't sit well with me.

Right now I'm staying the course.  Church is what has felt right for the last 24 years and until that changes in a compelling way, then I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing and keep expecting the same results, namely, halfway decent peace of mind and a fairly stable view of myself. I know it sounds closed-minded and fear-driven, and quite frankly, that might be the case. But if in 10 years, I find myself in a happy temple marriage with three great kids, a dog and a wonderful, supportive wife, then I'll look back on this moment and be glad I made the choice to carry on.  And if in 10 years, I find myself in a happy civil union with an adopted child, a dog and a wonderful, supportive husband, I'll look back on this moment and understand I wasn't ready to move on yet.

So there it is.  I confess.

Romans 1

This semester in Institute we are studying the second part of the New Testament, Acts through Revelation. Most of what we are covering are the epistles of Paul, which is fascinating stuff. Paul writes a lot about his troubles and challenges and it's reassuring to hear spiritual giants have problems too.  A few months ago, I had a friend tell me she thought Paul was gay, so now that's all I can think whenever I read his words. Viewed through that crucible, this whole reconciling-faith thing seems a little more feasible.

In any case, in his epistle to the Romans, Paul does briefly touch on homosexuality.  I hoped that we'd gloss over that portion of the epistle in Institute, as I really wasn't in the mood for it, but we didn't.  Our teacher, at the end of class, said, "I'd like to end on something that is very current right now," and I knew exactly what he was talking about.

One brief beef I have with a common anti-gay marriage argument

Tonight was another good CES fireside in which Elder Holland urged the young singles of the church to plant their feet boldly where they stood and dare to keep their standards high. It was an uplifting, entertaining, emotional fireside and he had some amazing stories and lessons to share. I really admire Elder Holland's emphatic, almost frightening conviction with which he invites and encourages listeners to live on a higher plain.

However, I have just one or two little issues I took with aspects of his message.  These may or may not be motivated by the fact that I've had a really bad attitude and some really caustic feelings towards the Church and that my pride has been puffed up recently by who-knows-what, but here they are.

First, he encouraged us to be more loving. There's nothing I hate more than being loving.

Just kidding.

No, he encouraged us to be loving and free of judgment towards those who live different lifestyles, have different standards, dress differently, etc. He illustrated his point by sharing a story of love shared towards a spiky-haired, pierced and tattooed woman who attended a stake fireside he gave a number of years ago.  Awesome. I am pro-love, so no qualms yet.

However, in the next sentence, he encouraged us to remember to continue to judge righteously. He likened our righteous judgments to those of parents who prevent their children from eating too much junk or running into a busy street, where no level-headed person would ever censure a parent for "taking away their children's agency" in this way.

He encouraged us to do the same, to prevent harm or accident from befalling us by keeping good company, taking care of our bodies and avoiding sin and temptation. So far so good, on paper at least.

However, in practice, I've noticed that Mormons as a culture are mostly incapable of giving righteous judgment without, in his words, "checking their religion at the door." We tend to censure, scorn and ostracize those with whom we disagree and our actions cross from "righteous indignation" into hate. Elder Holland himself said these words with what I felt was a hint of venom, the slightest tinge of sardonic scoffing towards those to whom he was referring, those outside our church and its standards.

He continued by encouraging us to be active in political discourse and stand up for our rights. Again, I totally agreed, until he said that we were justified in taking away others' agency if it was a matter of celestial, eternal importance. Again, he used a metaphor involving running red lights. Paraphrasing, "I as a good driver know that running red lights is wrong, but why should we penalize those who choose to run red lights? Isn't that taking away their agency?"

His point was that it is necessary to take away agency in matters like these, but the fundamental difference between his metaphor and the issues to which we all know he was referring (gay rights, abortion, etc.) is that running a red light can cause irreparable harm to someone who had no control over your actions. In exercising your agency to run a red light, you can take away another person's agency to live without their permission.

However, with gay marriage, one man is not taking away another man's agency to marry; rather, two people are willingly entering into that contract with one another. No one's agency is being taken away. You might disagree with their choice, but it has no affect on anyone but themselves. This argument breaks down somewhat in the argument about abortion, as it could be argued that you are removing a fetus' right to live, but still, there is palpable difference between reality and metaphor.

Other than that, I really enjoyed his fireside. I don't know what I'm going to do about it because I'm still so miserable at church that it takes all of my energy to attend, but here's hoping that I'll have some urge to be a better disciple due to Elder Holland's convicting words.

I Think it's Time...

This was a big week for gay Mormons.

BYU hosted a panel put on by the student group Understanding Same-Gender Attraction wherein members of the openly-gay community at BYU (estimated to number around 1800) answered questions and gave prepared statements on what it's like to be a gay member of the LDS church. Read that article linked; it's pretty fascinating.  I suppose the general overtone of the article is that many avenues are open to gay members. Marriage is a very cautiously advised option, as is celibacy, and there's always the agency to enjoy a same-gender relationship, either with or without partial fellowship within the Church.

Next, the same group made this video for the Trevor Project:

The It Gets Better movement is a project I haven't quite made up my mind about yet.  Obviously, I am absolutely in favor of supporting teens who suppose their only option is suicide or self-harm, and life really does get better.  I love that it engenders awareness about the bullying of homosexuals or other "different" people and seeks to bring the numbers of those bullied down. As a hopefully-faithful member of the LDS church, I shy away from things that normalize and encourage homosexuality, but on the whole, the Trevor Project is doing good things and I appreciate that.

The video that was made by BYU USGA is great. I love the message it shares that we as a gospel culture are capable of becoming more understanding and more loving, which is exactly the message I wanted to send with my guest post at Modern Mormon Men (read it if you haven't!  I'm so proud of it!).  Additionally, it reaches out to members of the church who may be struggling with coming to terms with their sexuality and the seeming contradiction between what feel like natural attractions and what feels like an all-encompassing testimony. I also appreciate that it acknowledges that for the majority of us, it wasn't a choice. And I also am grateful that the video shows the danger in bargaining with God to take away this attraction through over-righteousness and obsessive stifling of the offending thoughts.  That bargaining can burn a person out, and I know from experience.

However, I fear that the video might send mixed messages to the world regarding our church's stance on homosexuality. In the video, none of the students address how they live with or deal with their homosexuality.  It's never mentioned or alluded to, but a reasonable person might make the assumption that these courageous people are living homosexual lifestyles and that the school is okay with that, which obviously isn't (or shouldn't be) the case.  What could have been a great opportunity to tell the world that religious and spiritual fulfillment can be more valuable than physical and emotional fulfillment was instead spent in moral ambiguity.

Another minor concern I have with the video is that it might be glorifying that particular challenge over another's. For example, most drug abusers don't strut around saying that they would love to do lines and smoke bowls and shoot up, but instead are following the path of the Gospel.  I know it's a clunky metaphor and that the video does lots more than highlight the challenges of same-gender attraction, but the argument could be made that the students featured in the video are glorifying their challenges.

Still, I would never be audacious or misinformed enough to call USGA's efforts a waste.  They are highlighting that, in spite of the compelled anonymity in which some of us live, there are so many of us out there and we are doing our best to act on what we know to be true.  I'm so grateful for their efforts and I feel more and more inspired by their courage to do more to reach out to others as best I can.

Sidebar (although it probably deserves its own post): I think I'm going to tell the rest of my family. I have a dad and two brothers who don't know, at least not officially, and I think it's time to let them in on everything.  I'm excited and only a little nervous, which I think is a good sign that it's the right decision, perhaps one that should have been made years ago.

Light Switches and Sunrise

Several months ago, I was asked to give a talk on personal revelation. It was a great experience. I already love giving talks in church (I'm a natural-born attention whore [gay guy=attention whore. shocker]), but I was asked to speak on acquiring personal revelation, a topic I was already working on improving in my life, so it was perfect!

I came across a talk given by Elder Bednar in Conference in April 2011. In it, he gave two allegories, both pertaining to revelation: A person can walk into a dark room and flip a light switch. In almost an instant, the contents of the room are revealed. The room very quickly becomes filled with light and the transition from darkness to light is palpable and quantifiable. That same person can sit outside on a dark early morning and watch for the sun over the east. Before the sun even comes close to the horizon, it lightens the sky above it. Gradually, the person's surroundings become less obscured, little by little. And the sun doesn't need to be visible for everything to be clear and illuminated. The transition from darkness to light is difficult to quantify, but the increasing presence of light is identifiable. The moment when the sun breaks the horizon is obvious and glorious, but it was preceded by an increase of light of an infinite magnitude.

Such is personal revelation. Rarely, people walk into the dark rooms of their heart to find a light switch installed, a switch that answers questions and chases away doubt instantaneously. However, much more common is the gradual increase of knowledge. By sitting out on a dark morning and looking for light, we find it little by little, as details become illuminated until we are able to see clearly. And only after we see those things clearly do we see God clearly.

A very interesting thought that Elder Bednar highlights is that even things that seem like light-switch moments were really sunrises. He specifically discusses the First Vision, which is as literal a manifestation of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ as has been recorded in the common era. Surely, a personal appearance from the Supreme Being and His Son would constitute a light switch revelation, no?

Well, as it turns out, a careful reading of Joseph Smith's history shows that he came to the Sacred Grove to pray with a question: Which church should I join? And skipping to the end of the account we see that he isn't really given an answer. He is told to join none of the churches and await more instruction as the time comes. He was left to face all of those same worldly concerns he had before: ostracization from the local ministry, threats and ridicule from his friends, and still no definite course of action to bring about his salvation. In fact, such a manifestation from God the Father may have left him with more questions. But his faith in seeking answers paid off. Gradually, he received the knowledge he needed to restore the Gospel in its fulness to mankind. It started with a grandiose and glorious revelation, but certainly not one that gave the Prophet all the answers he wanted.

By the way, this is my 100th post. Retrospective imminent.

Circling the Wagons

I just found out about the Circling the Wagons conference this last weekend and I'm sad I didn't know about it in time. I'm not really plugged in to the gay-and-Mormon blogosphere, which I generally think is a good thing. I follow a few people here and there, but generally, I like my solitude when it comes to gay men.  I don't have a very good track record of managing relationships with them.  However, I was feeling that isolation today when I realized I missed what could have been a good experience. 

Circling the Wagons is a large-scale conference held in Salt Lake City for gay and lesbian Latter-Day Saints and members of other faiths, or even for those reaching out to either the religious or the gay, or both. I'm sure there's a lot of agenda going on, probably a lot of agenda that might be damaging to my spirituality, but there was one speaker I'd have loved to hear: Bishop Kevin Kloosterman. 

Bishop Kloosterman spoke in the Sunday morning interfaith worship service on the subject of finding peace within.  He spoke on the homophobia in the world at large, calling it "an atrocity" that LGBTQ people of any faith had to deal with any manner of persecution. 

In a clarifying interview with Joanna Brooks, Bishop Kloosterman outlines his quest for knowledge about the whys and wherefores behind homosexuality, especially as it relates to members of the Church.  Having been a bishop for a few years, he felt prompted to learn more about the nature of the battle, even though he'd never encountered it in his life, either with himself, family members, friends, or even members of his ward. (That surprised me.  I honestly thought that every ward had at least one.)  In any case, this came to a boiling point for him recently when Salt Lake experienced three hate crimes directed at homosexuals in a short time.  The bishop explains that it was no longer time to be a Levite, so he started getting more active in the gay Mormon community.

He further clarifies his statements made at the conference, saying that he upholds the standard that the Church has planted regarding homosexuality.

"The way the Tribune reports it takes my words out of context. I was not criticizing the Church. In fact, I felt and feel like we needed to support the leadership of the Church in their movements forward with our gay brothers and sisters."

I appreciate that sentiment.  I admit that in times of weakness I think that the Church is outdated and that homosexuality within the membership will be to the 21st century what being black was to the 20th century.  However, at my core, I believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ as it is revealed today to church leaders.  I also believe that things will work out in their own time and season, and while I'm not positive what form that they'll take, I still believe it.  So I appreciate that Bishop Kloosterman acknowledges both the struggle and the strides the leadership is taking towards spreading a gospel of love, while still upholding the standards of the Church. 

In any case, I don't regret not going to the conference too much, especially since this was the first Sunday in a very long time that I didn't leave my ward feeling hopeless.  It's good I stayed home, but I will definitely be Celestial-TiVoing Bishop Kloosterman's talk when I get to the other side.

The Power of a Good Support System

I've mentioned time and time again how amazing and supportive my family is with regard to who I am and what I deal with in my day to day life, but my support network goes so much farther than that.

Yesterday, after church, I got to let another person into that aforementioned inner circle when I sat down to speak with my new bishop, Bishop G.  He had issued me a couple callings the month before, at which time I told him that I wanted to go on a mission soon and felt like I was ready to put in my papers.  He advised me to make an appointment for the next Tuesday and we could talk about it.  I forgot to do so for awhile, then I tried to make the appointment several times, but our schedules never meshed.  Finally, he asked me to meet him after ward choir (my new calling; expect entries to be forthcoming), and I agreed.

However, I was reluctant to go to the meeting.  Without getting into too much detail, I slipped up a few times in the last week with regard to pornography.  I was dreading telling him that, after 6 months of worthiness, I fell back into an old habit.  Still, I knew that I needed to tell him and be completely honest, so that when I do finally get my shit together and serve a mission (can I say those words in the same sentence?), I can do it completely worthily.  During the sacrament and throughout the day, I prayed that the Lord would help me be completely honest with Bishop G. and that I'd have the courage to do what is right for once this week.

Bishop's friendly, good-ol'-boy smile greeted me as I sat down.  He asked how choir went, congratulated me on my new calling as a priesthood instructor, and began lauding praise on how committed I was to my callings, to my family home evening group, and to my home teaching.  With each additional layer of laud, my heart sunk deeper and deeper into my chest, dreading the moment I'd hack away his respect for me.

Finally, he said, "Now, last time we met, you mentioned you wanted to start your papers.  Shall we get started?"

I interrupted him and told him how I'd been feeling in the last few days and what I'd done.

His expression didn't change.  He maintained his sincere smile.  His eyes kept their gaze into mine.  He said, "Okay, well, let's get that taken care of and we'll get the mission papers in a little later."

Like any good bishop, he began to pry a little into the nature of the pornography.  Was it illegal?  (No.)  Did it involve children?  (No.)  Did it involve members of the same gender in homosexual activities?  (Yes.)  <Pause>  Did it involve men?  (Yes.)

Again, his lightheartedness didn't subside, even in the face of the gravity of my last statement.  He looked at me and asked me if I regularly experienced those feelings of attraction to men.  I confirmed that I did.  Now, he looked at me with even more love than before.

He said that I felt those things because I was destined for greatness.  He confirmed, once again, my faithfulness in my callings and my willingness to serve.  He told me that, although they were bad habits, pornography and masturbation did not define my church membership or my worthiness as a son of God. He chastised me to remove those bad influences from my life immediately, but that they did not overpower my good qualities and could never overpower God's love for me as His son.

We talked for a long time.  He empathized with my plight.  He told me frankly that my life might never get much easier and the feelings of homosexual attraction might never fade.  He even acknowledged that I might never get married in this life.  And yet, his advice never came off as negative.  It was realistic, full of hope that someday things might change, but even more full of hope that no matter what happens, I will come out conqueror if I do what's right.

We set some great short-term goals for taking the sacrament and getting my expired temple recommend back, and our meeting was over.

What I can't adequately describe is the feeling of love my bishop instilled in me. I've had bishops in the past who could lecture for hours on the psychological causes of same-gender attraction, but might never really understand how it makes me feel.  I've had other bishops who advise that a mission might not be the best choice for a person in my situation.  I had a bishop who was a great motivator, but often did it by stern admonishment and chastisement.  All of these have been effective tools that my bishops have used and all of my bishops have inspired new ideas and powerful insights.  But sometimes confidence and love were absent in those admonitions, lectures, and bits of advice.

Bishop G. inspired confidence in my ability to serve admirably.  His lack of scientific knowledge was offset by a serious outpouring of love and solidarity.  His calls to repentance, while motivated by my unrighteous actions, were loaded with love and respect.  I left his office in tears, but not tears of fear, sadness, or worry.

I have faith that all of my bishops used methods that were effective and yielded results for me at the time. I also have faith that every single one of them was motivated by love and concern for my well-being. I'm just grateful that at this stage in my life, I have a bishop whose love isn't hidden and whose respect is obvious.

Same-Gender Attraction? A Young Adult Mormon Perspective

I was sitting in my class on the family and we were talking about gay marriage.  I was actually really looking forward to the class on Thursday for that reason, even though a few days ago I posted about how much I was dreading it.

We were talking about nature versus nurture and whether or not gays were "born this way."  One girl politely said that she didn't understand how someone would choose a life like that, which to me implied that she didn't think it was a choice, and another girl countered by saying that we all have a choice, a comment which confused me a little.  Did she mean that we all have a choice whether or not to yield to temptation, or that we all had a choice of what we should let tempt us?  I decided to be brave and try to clear the air a little bit.  

I raised my hand and when Brother R. called on me, I said that "my cousin" was an active member of the Church who also was a non-practicing gay and he and I had lots of conversations on the matter.  For simplicity's sake, I'll just tell the story from my point of view, rather than that of "my cousin," as I did in class.

I told them that I never knew a time of my life that I didn't feel attracted to other men, even as a child before those attractions were sexualized at all.  I said that even though I felt occasional attractions to really unique and special girls, I never really felt a whole lot of drive to kiss them or anything, like I did with men, and that those feelings seemed to be prevalent throughout every stage of my life.  I also acknowledged that I know some people who through sexual abuse, curiosity, or other means may have developed homosexual tendencies in life, rather than acquiring them innately.

And yet, I know that no matter the source of the temptation, sin is never justifiable.  Just as a man born with nymphomania directed at women shouldn't use that as an excuse for sleeping around, so should gay people keep their covenants as well.

(For the record, I know there's a lot of back-and-forth happening on this blog.  Some days I feel mad that I can't be gay and some days I feel like I never would want to break my covenants.  Don't point it out, I already know it's going on.)

Regardless, my comment seemed to placate the class a little bit.  The subject moved to the Church's stance on gay marriage.  A few weeks ago, there was an article in Deseret News, a church-owned newspaper, on the leadership of the Church coming out (take that, terminology!) in support of equal rights among partnered gays regarding hospital visitation, next-of-kin, and taxes, among other things.  I raised my hand again and asked Brother R. why this was, after all of the moral, unofficial support the Church gave to Proposition 8 in California.  His answer confused me; he said, "The Church will always believe in equal rights for everyone.  We believe in agency and we want to allow that agency to all of God's children.  But we draw the line at marriage, a sacred, religious institution from God."

I don't know, maybe it's the 24-hour Vegas sex marriages that some BYU students undertake or the better-than-half divorce rate among married couples or the scores and scores of shotgun weddings that go on all over the world every day, but I kind of feel like the sanctity-of-marriage ship has sailed a long time ago. If that's the battle platform, the Church doesn't really have a leg to stand on.

Is it just the word?  Would the Church support "legal domestic partnership" or "gayrriage"?  (Why don't we call it a commitment ceremony?  That way, when Adam and Steve are on the way to the courthouse, we can say that they're being "committed.") What about gay marriage (or whatever it would be called) among people who believe in God and don't believe that their actions are sinful, and who would like to be married in a religious ceremony?

I don't want to mislead.  I fully acknowledge the right of the Church to only marry people who follow its rules and covenants and I would never expect the church to perform a sealing for a gay couple.  I believe, as Elder Oaks has said, that freedom of religion and speech are being taken away from churches and religious people all over the world.  Political correctness says that we as Mormons can't talk about anything we believe, in case someone might get offended.  And I do believe that we as Mormons need to guard against that.  We can't excuse sin or condone its practice, nor can we support sin in sacred places like temples.

I am just a little confused about what I see as double-talk among the Church leadership.  I don't understand why the Church supports equal rights and unofficially campaigns against it at the same time. It's not enough to shake my faith or anything (at least today), but it doesn't rest well on me. Thoughts?

Also, Brother R. said to me after my first comment that I might gently suggest to my cousin that he not identify himself as gay, but instead say that he deals with same-gender attraction.  Again, is it just the word choice?  Because to a man who suffers from "same-gender attraction" like me, they're one and the same and one just sounds a whole lot more pretentious.

Word choice, man.  The Church is all about it.