In his important new book Covering, Yale Law School professor Kenji Yoshino uses the prism of his experience as a gay Asian American and his training as a legal scholar to examine the subtle ways that women and ethnic, religuous and sexual minorities are often forced to compromise their civil rights, their identity and their dignity in order to blend into the mainstream.
At first glance, covering appears less insidious than other societal demands made of minorities. In the past many have been forced to try to convert. Others respond to such demands by quietly passing. Covering is more subtle, as it often involves simply trying to "tone down" undesirable or stigmatized identities.
In my own evolution as a gay man, I have been through each of the stages Yoshino describes in his book. I sought to convert myself away from homosexuality, going so far as to convert to a religion that held the promise that I didn't have to be gay if I didn't want to be. When I failed in my efforts to convert, I continued to pass. I was married, fathered two children, and actively engaged in activities and a lifestyle that was easily identifiable as heterosexual. When passing became too much of a burden, I was still content to cover. I came out to my wife and a small circle of family members, but I chose not to engage in any way in a lifestyle that was identifiable as gay.
My covering stage was the shortest in its duration. Once I was finally able to accept that I was gay and that it wasn't wrong for me to be gay, I quickly decided that I had no desire to cover my identity. In fact, for a period I was uncomfortable letting stand the assumption that I was straight. I came out in ways that were probably unnecessary. But I would rather have people know I was gay unnecessarily than let them assume that I was straight.
The demand that I cover, however, remains a constant, particularly in circles where acceptance of homosexuality is tenuous. A few months ago I was involved in a discussion on an LDS blog called By Common Consent. It was a discussion of Carol Lynn Pearson's No More Goodbyes, and when I wondered aloud (as it were) what I should do to build bridges of reconciliation with my former faith community, one of the discussion participants told me rather pointedly that I should "get over" myself and recognize that my sexuality was just a "small part" of who I am. Why, he wondered, couldn't I ever talk about anything else on LDS blogs besides homosexuality?
The unfairness of his charge was apparent to me (and others), as I know that my interests are wide ranging. But more than being personally unfair, he was doing what if often demanded of gay people--asking that I cover my sexuality. It's okay for me to be gay, but, please, stop talking about it! As I have become more comfortable being out, I have seen this dynamic play out over and over again. "Straight acting" homosexual men are somehow more acceptable than obviously or more flamboyantly gay men. We see the demand to cover in a very pointed way in the LDS Church and other conservative religious traditions. LDS authorities have taken a page from the Catholic playbook in declaring that to feel homosexual attraction is not sinful, but acting on it of course is. In other words, it's okay to be gay as long one doesn't ever actually do any of the things that define one as gay--namely, have an intimate relationship with someone of the same sex. The covering demand of homosexuals in Mormon culture is further played out when homosexual Mormons themselves respond to the covering demand by downplaying the significance of their orientation, dismissing it as an annoying fact that in no way defines them or how they will live their lives. Just because they are gay doesn't mean that can't live their lives just as any other Mormon might, hoping for marriage and family or quietly soldiering on in celibacy, depending on the circumstances.
This is not unique to the LDS experience, of course. Such demands that gays "keep it to themselves" are commonplace in other religious tradtions, in the workplace, and on the athletic field (see John Amaechi). Quiet, apparently asexual homosexuals are far less threatening to the status quo and the moral order than those who live openly. And there are reverse covering demands imposed by the gay community as well--we passionately ask all homosexuals to come out, to live life as openly and defiantly as they can, and to reject any suggestion that to do so is in anyway problematic. Alas, life is not so simple.
As much as I want to be finished covering, I still do it. I hate it, but it happens. Maybe I don't mention Jed in certain situations when I easily could, or I withdraw from conversations about family and marriage because I don't want to have to explain my own personal transformation and circumstances. These things don't happen often anymore, but they happen. Sometimes I'm responding to an external demand that I cover, but other times I'm still fighting my own internal battles. But I firmly believe that recognizing the demand to cover is an important final step in coming out.
Showing posts with label gay Mormons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gay Mormons. Show all posts
Friday, April 06, 2007
Saturday, December 23, 2006
No More Goodbyes: Circling the Wagons Around Our Gay Loved Ones
Read this book:
I bought it a few weeks ago, but hadn't had the chance to dive into it until yesterday, when I had a long day of travel from New York to Salt Lake City. I started it on my flight from Newark to Chicago and finished it about 20 minutes before I landed in Salt Lake.
It is, in a word, remarkable. Carol Lynn Pearson is a voice of compassion and understanding for gay people and their families, particularly those from religious backgrounds. Of course, she comes to the topic from a very personal place. She married a gay man (and told the story of her marriage in the book Goodbye, I Love You), and her daughter married a gay man. She has befriended and comforted hundreds of gay people and their families since she began dealing with the "issue" of homosexuality in her life decades ago.
If you are gay, read this book. If you have a gay family member, read this book. If you have gay friends, read this book. If you want to better understand homosexuality, read this book. If you believe in love and family, read this book.
As I read the last few pages, I was overcome with emotion. I was sitting on a plane, surrounded by strangers, quietly weeping. They weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of gratitude that we have voices of compassion such as Carol Lynn Pearson's urging us on to be better than we are, to not accept what is as what must be. They were tears of gratitude that my family has circled their wagons around me, their gay loved one. And when I speak of my family, I speak of Keri and her parents and siblings, who have loved me through a crisis that led to a transformation of our family relationships. The one constant has been love. I am so grateful to be here with them for the Christmas holidays. I love them, and I know they love me. They are my family.
Read this book.
I bought it a few weeks ago, but hadn't had the chance to dive into it until yesterday, when I had a long day of travel from New York to Salt Lake City. I started it on my flight from Newark to Chicago and finished it about 20 minutes before I landed in Salt Lake.It is, in a word, remarkable. Carol Lynn Pearson is a voice of compassion and understanding for gay people and their families, particularly those from religious backgrounds. Of course, she comes to the topic from a very personal place. She married a gay man (and told the story of her marriage in the book Goodbye, I Love You), and her daughter married a gay man. She has befriended and comforted hundreds of gay people and their families since she began dealing with the "issue" of homosexuality in her life decades ago.
If you are gay, read this book. If you have a gay family member, read this book. If you have gay friends, read this book. If you want to better understand homosexuality, read this book. If you believe in love and family, read this book.
As I read the last few pages, I was overcome with emotion. I was sitting on a plane, surrounded by strangers, quietly weeping. They weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of gratitude that we have voices of compassion such as Carol Lynn Pearson's urging us on to be better than we are, to not accept what is as what must be. They were tears of gratitude that my family has circled their wagons around me, their gay loved one. And when I speak of my family, I speak of Keri and her parents and siblings, who have loved me through a crisis that led to a transformation of our family relationships. The one constant has been love. I am so grateful to be here with them for the Christmas holidays. I love them, and I know they love me. They are my family.
Read this book.
Friday, November 24, 2006
New Voice
you are making an impact--not by writing about what you think--but by writing about what you do, proving that your path can lead to a productive, happy, healthy live.
As I have comtemplated where to go with this blog, I keep coming back to this comment from santorio, left on my "Frustration" thread. I want to continue writing about my coming out experiences, and I'd like to extend my writing back to include earlier times in my life as well.
HURRICANE will now be a debate-free zone. I still welcome comments and discussion about the issues that emerge in discussion of my life experiences, but I won't be using this blog to debate about homosexuality. My position is as clear as it could be: I am not conflicted about the morality of homosexuality or homosexual relationships, and I reject the suggestion that homosexuality is inherently defective or that homosexual relationships are inherently sinful. We've had those discussions, and this will no longer be the place for them.
I am not, however, abandoning active debate about gay issues. At some point between now and the end of 2006, I intend to start a new blog that will focus on gay rights, activism, politics and the many and varied social issues that impact gay people. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Frustration
I haven't had much to say lately. Well, actually, that's not true. I have a lot to say. But now that I have moved into a new phase of life, I'm having a hard time figuring out the right way and the right place to say it. This blog was originally a form of therapy for me. It was a place I could write about my coming out experience, my changing religious beliefs, my evolving family structure, the end of my marriage, and the beginning of a new relationship. But I'm out now, and my life has found a certain stability that it lacked when I started this blog.
So that's my first frustration. HURRICANE needs a new voice and I'm struggling to find it.
My second frustration is what I feel is the failure of my ongoing dialogue about gay Mormon issues with many Mormons, including the gay married Mormons that I share space with here in the gay Mormon bloggosphere. I'm certain that I bear some of the responsibility for that failure. I feel a great deal of frustration that so many who look at the world through the LDS prism see homosexuality and homosexual relationships as monolithic. Committed partnerships, truck stop trists on the New Jersey Turnpike, an honest divorce, a long-term secret love affair. From the LDS perspective, all seem to be the same because they are homosexual in nature. It seems obvious to me that they are not.
I'm generalizing my interactions here. In fact, I have made a lot of progress toward mutual respect and understanding with many of the LDS people who are most important to me in my life--family, including my dear former in-laws whom I still love like my own parents, and many longtime friends. It seems to be online where I encounter most of my frustration.
I'm aware of my own bias. I acknowledge that when I see men living through situations similar to my own I want to encourage them to follow a similar path, for their own sake and for the sake of their wives. I want to tell struggling young gay Mormons to accept their sexuality, embrace themselves and the blessing of being gay, and see what life outside the confines of Mormonism might offer them. I see the struggles of so many and think that so much of the pain and loneliness felt by those in and out of marriages could be alleviated if they could just accept that homosexuality is normal and homosexuals can live happy, healthy, well-adjusted lives as homosexuals.
John Galt suggested to me that I've forgotten what it's like to be Mormon. I suppose he's right. As odd as this is coming from a former LDS bishop, I can no longer understand why we are willing to endure so much pain for religious beliefs which utterly fail to explain human reality. This is not just a criticism of LDS Mormonism and homosexuality. I read in this morning's paper about the recent decision of Conference of Catholic Bishops in the U.S. to reiterate the church's prohibition on articifical contraception. I find myself scratching my head when I encounter moments when religious dogma is more important than the daily realities of people's lives. Too often it seems that tradition is exalted above actual people. That frustrates me.
I'm picking on religion here, but dogmas are found in many varieties. I know that some of my critics here in gay Mormondom think I'm dogmatic in my embrace of gay pride. I'm willing to admit that I might be at times. I try very hard not to be, but I know that I fail. I try to understand my own truth and recognize that it applies to me and no one else. But sometimes the evangelical zeal grabs hold.
The holidays are soon upon us. My children and KK (and the dog!) arrive tonight for a two week visit. I think it's time to stop convincing for awhile. We often try to convince others primarily as a way to convice ourselves. I don't want to do that anymore. I'm happy with where I am in life. I don't need to convince myself or anyone else of that. I think the best convincing I can do now will come through the example of a life lived fully and honestly.
Bear with me will I try to find a new voice.
So that's my first frustration. HURRICANE needs a new voice and I'm struggling to find it.
My second frustration is what I feel is the failure of my ongoing dialogue about gay Mormon issues with many Mormons, including the gay married Mormons that I share space with here in the gay Mormon bloggosphere. I'm certain that I bear some of the responsibility for that failure. I feel a great deal of frustration that so many who look at the world through the LDS prism see homosexuality and homosexual relationships as monolithic. Committed partnerships, truck stop trists on the New Jersey Turnpike, an honest divorce, a long-term secret love affair. From the LDS perspective, all seem to be the same because they are homosexual in nature. It seems obvious to me that they are not.
I'm generalizing my interactions here. In fact, I have made a lot of progress toward mutual respect and understanding with many of the LDS people who are most important to me in my life--family, including my dear former in-laws whom I still love like my own parents, and many longtime friends. It seems to be online where I encounter most of my frustration.
I'm aware of my own bias. I acknowledge that when I see men living through situations similar to my own I want to encourage them to follow a similar path, for their own sake and for the sake of their wives. I want to tell struggling young gay Mormons to accept their sexuality, embrace themselves and the blessing of being gay, and see what life outside the confines of Mormonism might offer them. I see the struggles of so many and think that so much of the pain and loneliness felt by those in and out of marriages could be alleviated if they could just accept that homosexuality is normal and homosexuals can live happy, healthy, well-adjusted lives as homosexuals.
John Galt suggested to me that I've forgotten what it's like to be Mormon. I suppose he's right. As odd as this is coming from a former LDS bishop, I can no longer understand why we are willing to endure so much pain for religious beliefs which utterly fail to explain human reality. This is not just a criticism of LDS Mormonism and homosexuality. I read in this morning's paper about the recent decision of Conference of Catholic Bishops in the U.S. to reiterate the church's prohibition on articifical contraception. I find myself scratching my head when I encounter moments when religious dogma is more important than the daily realities of people's lives. Too often it seems that tradition is exalted above actual people. That frustrates me.
I'm picking on religion here, but dogmas are found in many varieties. I know that some of my critics here in gay Mormondom think I'm dogmatic in my embrace of gay pride. I'm willing to admit that I might be at times. I try very hard not to be, but I know that I fail. I try to understand my own truth and recognize that it applies to me and no one else. But sometimes the evangelical zeal grabs hold.
The holidays are soon upon us. My children and KK (and the dog!) arrive tonight for a two week visit. I think it's time to stop convincing for awhile. We often try to convince others primarily as a way to convice ourselves. I don't want to do that anymore. I'm happy with where I am in life. I don't need to convince myself or anyone else of that. I think the best convincing I can do now will come through the example of a life lived fully and honestly.
Bear with me will I try to find a new voice.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Response to John Galt
For the first time I read John Galt's blog tonight, and originally wrote the following as a comment. The longer it became, the more I felt it should be here, and not there.
A few posts ago, in response to my friend Ariane (a very wise person...) John Galt wrote:
To me, either the church is true or the church is not true. To say that it is still true, that the plan of salvation is REAL, but perhaps its doctrine concerning gay relationships is wrong... that two men CAN be together... well, to me that just doesn't fit.
Sadly, that is also the reality for me. I had always realized that there were "cultural" things about the church that I was able to dismiss as inventions of men, but that the doctrine the church leaders put forward as revelations they had received from God was all true. So when there was something hard to swallow, I could build on my belief in the SYSTEM, the idea of revelation, and convince myself that even difficult doctrines were true.
In the weeks after Chris came out to me, we spent hours and hours pouring over his experience as a gay child, adolescent and man. In Mormon terms, I received witnesses as powerful as I've ever had that his experience was "true," that his soul and spirit are gay and that has always been and will always be. When I lined that witness up against the church's doctrine, I knew which one was not true. After that realization, that something the church said came from God was in fact an invention of men (well-intentioned, caring men, but men nonetheless) I could no longer rely on the SYSTEM and many of my other beliefs in Mormon doctrine unraveled as a result.
I have friends and family who seem to be able to let this kind of thing roll off their backs, to believe what they are able to believe, and judge for themselves what is revelation and what's not, and therefore remain actively Mormon even though some of the doctrines don't ring true to them. I am not able to do this. To quote John Galt again, it's either true or it's not, as a package. There isn't a half-way Mormon for me.
That said, my experience is a result of extremely personal revelation, and one of the things I think I've learned over the past year is that truth may be relative, even for God. I believe in a God that would manifest the absolute truthfulness of one idea or path to someone for whom that is the best way, and the opposite to someone else. I believe in a God whose wisdom is so infinite that he is able to see countless individuals' complex situations, help them find their way, and confirm that way as truth. I think we get ourselves into trouble when we compare one person's truth to another's and attempt to judge one as "correct" and anything else as "false."
John Galt, I hope you receive inspiriation and revelation for you and your family, that your truth is made manifest to you, and that all of us can continue to support and love one another despite our differences of belief.
A few posts ago, in response to my friend Ariane (a very wise person...) John Galt wrote:
To me, either the church is true or the church is not true. To say that it is still true, that the plan of salvation is REAL, but perhaps its doctrine concerning gay relationships is wrong... that two men CAN be together... well, to me that just doesn't fit.
Sadly, that is also the reality for me. I had always realized that there were "cultural" things about the church that I was able to dismiss as inventions of men, but that the doctrine the church leaders put forward as revelations they had received from God was all true. So when there was something hard to swallow, I could build on my belief in the SYSTEM, the idea of revelation, and convince myself that even difficult doctrines were true.
In the weeks after Chris came out to me, we spent hours and hours pouring over his experience as a gay child, adolescent and man. In Mormon terms, I received witnesses as powerful as I've ever had that his experience was "true," that his soul and spirit are gay and that has always been and will always be. When I lined that witness up against the church's doctrine, I knew which one was not true. After that realization, that something the church said came from God was in fact an invention of men (well-intentioned, caring men, but men nonetheless) I could no longer rely on the SYSTEM and many of my other beliefs in Mormon doctrine unraveled as a result.
I have friends and family who seem to be able to let this kind of thing roll off their backs, to believe what they are able to believe, and judge for themselves what is revelation and what's not, and therefore remain actively Mormon even though some of the doctrines don't ring true to them. I am not able to do this. To quote John Galt again, it's either true or it's not, as a package. There isn't a half-way Mormon for me.
That said, my experience is a result of extremely personal revelation, and one of the things I think I've learned over the past year is that truth may be relative, even for God. I believe in a God that would manifest the absolute truthfulness of one idea or path to someone for whom that is the best way, and the opposite to someone else. I believe in a God whose wisdom is so infinite that he is able to see countless individuals' complex situations, help them find their way, and confirm that way as truth. I think we get ourselves into trouble when we compare one person's truth to another's and attempt to judge one as "correct" and anything else as "false."
John Galt, I hope you receive inspiriation and revelation for you and your family, that your truth is made manifest to you, and that all of us can continue to support and love one another despite our differences of belief.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Following different paths
I came across a new blog this morning. A Glass Darkly is written by a gay married man here in the metro New York City area who has just been through his own hurricane. Reading his story stirred up so much emotion for me. We live in the same city. We are almost the same age. We both have children. We were both young high priests in the LDS church. I did not fall into the love affair that he did, but as Santorio commented on one his posts, "There but for the grace of God go I..."
But more than that, as I read his blog I started to feel for the first time that though I share so much in common with this man, and the many others who share the experience of being gay and married and Mormon, there is almost nothing I can write or say that will be of any help to him--or me, as I move on in my life. Indeed, I've started to feel that there is nothing I can say on any of the blogs of gay married LDS men who want to stay in the Church that will be helpful to those on the "other" side. -L- and I went a couple of rounds on this blog a couple of weeks ago, but I was able to convince myself that it was a beneficial discussion. That I understood him better and he understood me better after the discussion was through. But now, after reading this new blog and posts on some of the others that have shown up lately, I don't think I have anything to offer--or, perhaps more accurately, nothing I have to offer is wanted by those who still believe that Mormonism and marriage are the only paths that lead to real and lasting happiness.
So, brethren, I will be taking a break from commenting on your blogs. I welcome your continued readership here, and even your comments. In time, perhaps I'll return to your blogs as well. Regardless, I wish you all the best of luck.
But more than that, as I read his blog I started to feel for the first time that though I share so much in common with this man, and the many others who share the experience of being gay and married and Mormon, there is almost nothing I can write or say that will be of any help to him--or me, as I move on in my life. Indeed, I've started to feel that there is nothing I can say on any of the blogs of gay married LDS men who want to stay in the Church that will be helpful to those on the "other" side. -L- and I went a couple of rounds on this blog a couple of weeks ago, but I was able to convince myself that it was a beneficial discussion. That I understood him better and he understood me better after the discussion was through. But now, after reading this new blog and posts on some of the others that have shown up lately, I don't think I have anything to offer--or, perhaps more accurately, nothing I have to offer is wanted by those who still believe that Mormonism and marriage are the only paths that lead to real and lasting happiness.
So, brethren, I will be taking a break from commenting on your blogs. I welcome your continued readership here, and even your comments. In time, perhaps I'll return to your blogs as well. Regardless, I wish you all the best of luck.
Friday, August 18, 2006
LDS.org "interview" on homosexuality
Because I know it won't be good for me, I'm not planning on commenting extensively on this interview-like interview that has been posted on the LDS Church's website. But since this is a blog that explores the gay Mormon experience, I feel some obligation to link to it.
Suffice it to say that as a gay man who feels alienated from the Church in part because of this issue, this interview has done nothing to draw me closer. Just the opposite.
Suffice it to say that as a gay man who feels alienated from the Church in part because of this issue, this interview has done nothing to draw me closer. Just the opposite.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Put your shoulder to the wheel
This post is for all of you gay married LDS out there who are still faithfully committed to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. There is work to do.
Once upon a time, I was an active participant at a little discussion site called Nauvoo.com. The site is owned by Mormon science fiction writer Orson Scott Card and has a little agreement called the Nauvoo Charter by which all participants must abide. Basically, you have to be a faithful, believing Latter-day Saint to participate on the site. In the day, it was a great place, particularly from my still faithful but liberal and unorthodox perspective. The discussions there shaped my evolving religious beliefs and were a nice balance to some of the more critical discussions I got into on other sites.
Nauvoo has changed. They've pretty much run the liberal Mormons out of town. For obvious reasons, I can't participate there anymore. (Turns out I've changed too!) But I still lurk. This discussion recently caught my attention. From my current vantage point, it is a fairly astonishing look at what average Mormons think about homosexuals and homosexuality. If you faithful gays want to change some attitudes (because I think we all agree that some attitudes need a'chagin'), this could be one place to start. And as Latter-day Saints in good standing, you'll be a lot more credible than this ol' ex-bishop apostate homo.
Once upon a time, I was an active participant at a little discussion site called Nauvoo.com. The site is owned by Mormon science fiction writer Orson Scott Card and has a little agreement called the Nauvoo Charter by which all participants must abide. Basically, you have to be a faithful, believing Latter-day Saint to participate on the site. In the day, it was a great place, particularly from my still faithful but liberal and unorthodox perspective. The discussions there shaped my evolving religious beliefs and were a nice balance to some of the more critical discussions I got into on other sites.
Nauvoo has changed. They've pretty much run the liberal Mormons out of town. For obvious reasons, I can't participate there anymore. (Turns out I've changed too!) But I still lurk. This discussion recently caught my attention. From my current vantage point, it is a fairly astonishing look at what average Mormons think about homosexuals and homosexuality. If you faithful gays want to change some attitudes (because I think we all agree that some attitudes need a'chagin'), this could be one place to start. And as Latter-day Saints in good standing, you'll be a lot more credible than this ol' ex-bishop apostate homo.
Monday, August 07, 2006
What about the women?
I've posted two recent articles that focus on gay married men. Here's a story about Emily Pearson, daughter of Carol Lynn Pearson and a woman who has emerged from a mixed orientation marriage of her own.
Salt Lake Tribune: A daughter steps into the light
Emily's website for women currently or formerly married to gay men is We Are Wildflowers.
Salt Lake Tribune: A daughter steps into the light
Emily's website for women currently or formerly married to gay men is We Are Wildflowers.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Survey
How many of the gay married men out there were products of a divorced home? I'm wondering because one of the reasons Chris had such a hard time accepting himself as gay, even though he didn't come from any kind of conservative or religious home, but had totally liberal parents, was that he was determined to have a better family than the one he came from, and didn't see how he could do this as gay. He felt like the divorce of his parents put pressure on him to form a perfect family. I've noticed that several other of you gay married bloggers also came from divorced parents. Is this a trend? Just wondering...
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
sharq's suggestions
A HURRICANE reader who goes by the name sharq left a very thoughtful and intensely practical comment on the thread "Choices, Part II" in response to my question about what I should do. In fact, that post elicited a number of comments that I think I will repond to in new posts over the next couple of days. But I will start with sharq.
First, sharq, though I don't know you, I feel confident in saying after this brief interaction that I'd like to know you. You seem to be a person of compassion and commitment. A long lost friend of mine wrote recently to say that good friends are hard to find, so we have to hang on to them when we do. He's right. I imagine that you are a good friend to many.
Second, I want to thank you for reminding me of some of the things I love about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I hadn't forgotten those things, but the focus of discussion in recent weeks has not been on the things I love. I'm glad you brought them back.
Third, you have done what I hoped someone would do. You have given me things to consider that I hadn't previously. I value that.
Let me address each of your suggestions.
1. Don't remove your names from the records of the church. It will make things easier for your family members and friends, and you can still choose to consider yourself "Mormon" with whatever definition you want to give that term.
I have pondered the status of my church membership over the past couple of months and have felt unsettled. I appreciate your perspective here, particuarly as to the impact on family and friends.
2. If you follow #1, there will be some ramifications you'll have to accept. Accept home teachers. Let active members of the church into your home, and both you and they will be blessed. Most likely, they will bend over backwards to be non-offensive, but in the event somebody starts in on the condemnation track, you can cut them off and let them know it's not appreciated. Sure, it would be awkward, but I think those odds are slim and you will benefit far more than you stand to lose.
We have had active members of the Church into our home on numerous occasions over the past several months. We have not had home teachers. Honestly, I can't imagine that having them over would be beneficial for any involved at this point, but I'm willing to keep the door unlocked.
3. Occasionally accept invitations to attend church functions. My ward recently made a serious effort to invite a gay member and his partner to the annual high priests' barbecue, and we were thrilled when they showed up. They seemed to enjoy themselves as well. If it seems like these sorts of things would be too painful, you've got to make the call, but I think eventually you'd be able to enjoy something like that.
In time, this might be something I could do. KK would have to decide for herself.
4. Chris, when you find a partner, expose him to the positive aspects of the church. You'd probably have to do this no matter what, or else he'd never understand you. Have the missionaries teach him the lessons (clueing them in to the situation beforehand). Take him to church at least once, and introduce yourselves to the bishop. He'll certainly have to understand the negatives as well, in order to fathom what you've gone through. But never deny that the Church influenced you in a number of positive ways, and don't be shy about owning up to that.
Wow. If I end up with another Mormon, I can skip some of this. If I don't, I'm not so sure about the missionary discussions. That said, the essence of this suggestion--that I share the positives of my church experience with a future partner--is something I absolutely can and will do.
5. KK, when you remarry, see #4.
KK gets to respond to this one on her own.
6. Live within walking distance of each other. That may be quite a challenge, but there is nothing to compare with being able to visit your mom or dad whenever you want, unfettered by custody schedules, distance, etc. Divorce brings real negative consequences for kids, and it's your duty as parents to ameliorate those as much as possible.
This suggestion brought tears to my eyes, and is something that we've already talked about at length. I have every intention of staying close to my family (and that includes KK) and we have talked about me finding a place very near to the house--something walkable.
I am a child of divorce, and one of the things I have lamented about my experience is that my parents were never close to each other. Not emotionally and not geographically. I never could approach my parents as a unit--a "Mom and Dad." I had to deal with Mom, and then I had to deal with Dad. It sucked. Keri and I want our children to know that they still have a "Mom and Dad" that they can look to and that will be guiding them along and cheering them on. Future partners for each of us could complicate things, to be sure. But if you've learned nothing about us from reading this blog, I hope you've learned that we've come to embrace life's complexities.
So thank you especially for this suggestion.
7. Accept that by retaining a connection to the Church, people will occasionally set out to reclaim you. Be patient with these folks. Virtually all of them have the best of intentions. Don't worry about giving them false hope or leading them on--if you are upfront with them about your situation you will be fine. You may win some friends, open some minds, and feel the true love of Christ.
I love too many Mormons to not keep some connection to the church, so I think this is very good advice regardless of how involved I/we might be with the actual ward we live in.
8. Likewise, never worry that you're somehow mooching off the church by accepting the benefits of membership without actively contributing. You've done your time. Let the home teachers move your piano up the stairs. Go to the high priests' barbecue. Read those tear-jerking stories in the back of the Ensign about people who feel the hand of God blessing and protecting them, and allow your tears to be jerked. Anybody who is allowed to serve you in any capacity will enjoy the blessings of God, and your sincere thanks will mean the world to them.
I have to confess to you that with the exception of my mission I've never been a faithful Ensign reader, but for the First Presidency message when I was home teaching (which I did with irregularity) and a bishop. But I will keep my subscription to Sunstone current. Does that count?
9. Find your own ways to serve. If you're not actively involved in the Church, you need to find a way to get outside yourself and make a contribution. Volunteer at your kids' school. Tutor an immigrant. Better yet, ask your home teachers if they need any help, and give them a hand with their piano. I imagine that if you think back on your best experiences in the Church (especially as bishop), you'll see that nothing is quite as rewarding as service. If will keep you spiritually healthy.
Here you have brought forward one of the things I loved the most--and now miss the most--about the LDS Church. KK and I are each wading into new communities. As a family, we have waded into a new faith community. As individuals, we are entering new communities as well. It will take some time for us to find our places in these new communities, but I think I can speak for KK when I say that we are both actively looking for opportunities to serve.
10. Allow your kids to be Mormon if they want to. I bet they love Primary, and they'll probably be invited to attends all sorts of events during their growing-up years. They may get exposed to some anti-gay rhetoric that will be hurtful, but you'll be in the best position to defuse those sorts of crises. Be willing have friends take them to church, and be willing to drop them off when a ride falls through. Attend their baptisms (if they get to that point), and show up when they're going to give a talk or a musical number in sacrament meeting. With any luck, somebody will recognize you from the barbecue and you'll have a pleasant chat before the meeting starts.
This one is harder. My children will, no doubt, be exposed to anti-gay rhetoric as they grow up. My oldest daughter, E, is already a champion of sorts of gay rights, so I don't have a lot of concern that they won't be able to handle that. Of course, I wish they didn't have to confront pain and unpleasantness, but having a gay dad is their reality. People will be unkind. So KK and I have no intention of regularly putting them in an environment where they not only might hear such rhetoric but where the things they would be taught about homosexuality run counter to what we believe.
That said, my children are the great-great-great-grandaughters of a Church president. They have ancestors who crossed the plains to get to the Great Salt Lake Valley. I want them to be proud of their pioneer heritage. I want them to know their own Mormon history. We will teach it to them. Their grandparents and aunts and uncles will teach it to them. If, in time, they decide on their own that they want to be Mormons, I will honor their choice. But it will have to be something they come to on their own, born of their own desire. They will have to become Mormons much as I became a Mormon if they decide that is what they want.
Well, that's a lot of advice from a perfect stranger, but you can't say it's unsolicited advice. It comes from a faithful, heterosexual Mormon who will never have to stand in your shoes, so you're certainly within your rights to disregard it entirely. But it also comes from somebody who has stood on countless doorsteps with a membership record in hand, looking to determine whether a new move-in will or will not accept visits. I am always thrilled when the response is positive, and the person is willing to interact with the Church on his or her own terms.
This touched me. I've been that Mormon, too, standing on a doorstep or stoop, looking for the lost. When I was bishop, we tried our best to track people down and hear their stories so we would know, and so we could take care of them--even if that meant simply honoring their wishes to remain unengaged. This is the best part of the Church. It's not dogma or doctrine. It's just good faithful people looking after one another--and the others who struggle with faith or commitment or testimony. This is the Church I loved and still love.
sharq, thank you again for your kind words of advice.
First, sharq, though I don't know you, I feel confident in saying after this brief interaction that I'd like to know you. You seem to be a person of compassion and commitment. A long lost friend of mine wrote recently to say that good friends are hard to find, so we have to hang on to them when we do. He's right. I imagine that you are a good friend to many.
Second, I want to thank you for reminding me of some of the things I love about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I hadn't forgotten those things, but the focus of discussion in recent weeks has not been on the things I love. I'm glad you brought them back.
Third, you have done what I hoped someone would do. You have given me things to consider that I hadn't previously. I value that.
Let me address each of your suggestions.
1. Don't remove your names from the records of the church. It will make things easier for your family members and friends, and you can still choose to consider yourself "Mormon" with whatever definition you want to give that term.
I have pondered the status of my church membership over the past couple of months and have felt unsettled. I appreciate your perspective here, particuarly as to the impact on family and friends.
2. If you follow #1, there will be some ramifications you'll have to accept. Accept home teachers. Let active members of the church into your home, and both you and they will be blessed. Most likely, they will bend over backwards to be non-offensive, but in the event somebody starts in on the condemnation track, you can cut them off and let them know it's not appreciated. Sure, it would be awkward, but I think those odds are slim and you will benefit far more than you stand to lose.
We have had active members of the Church into our home on numerous occasions over the past several months. We have not had home teachers. Honestly, I can't imagine that having them over would be beneficial for any involved at this point, but I'm willing to keep the door unlocked.
3. Occasionally accept invitations to attend church functions. My ward recently made a serious effort to invite a gay member and his partner to the annual high priests' barbecue, and we were thrilled when they showed up. They seemed to enjoy themselves as well. If it seems like these sorts of things would be too painful, you've got to make the call, but I think eventually you'd be able to enjoy something like that.
In time, this might be something I could do. KK would have to decide for herself.
4. Chris, when you find a partner, expose him to the positive aspects of the church. You'd probably have to do this no matter what, or else he'd never understand you. Have the missionaries teach him the lessons (clueing them in to the situation beforehand). Take him to church at least once, and introduce yourselves to the bishop. He'll certainly have to understand the negatives as well, in order to fathom what you've gone through. But never deny that the Church influenced you in a number of positive ways, and don't be shy about owning up to that.
Wow. If I end up with another Mormon, I can skip some of this. If I don't, I'm not so sure about the missionary discussions. That said, the essence of this suggestion--that I share the positives of my church experience with a future partner--is something I absolutely can and will do.
5. KK, when you remarry, see #4.
KK gets to respond to this one on her own.
6. Live within walking distance of each other. That may be quite a challenge, but there is nothing to compare with being able to visit your mom or dad whenever you want, unfettered by custody schedules, distance, etc. Divorce brings real negative consequences for kids, and it's your duty as parents to ameliorate those as much as possible.
This suggestion brought tears to my eyes, and is something that we've already talked about at length. I have every intention of staying close to my family (and that includes KK) and we have talked about me finding a place very near to the house--something walkable.
I am a child of divorce, and one of the things I have lamented about my experience is that my parents were never close to each other. Not emotionally and not geographically. I never could approach my parents as a unit--a "Mom and Dad." I had to deal with Mom, and then I had to deal with Dad. It sucked. Keri and I want our children to know that they still have a "Mom and Dad" that they can look to and that will be guiding them along and cheering them on. Future partners for each of us could complicate things, to be sure. But if you've learned nothing about us from reading this blog, I hope you've learned that we've come to embrace life's complexities.
So thank you especially for this suggestion.
7. Accept that by retaining a connection to the Church, people will occasionally set out to reclaim you. Be patient with these folks. Virtually all of them have the best of intentions. Don't worry about giving them false hope or leading them on--if you are upfront with them about your situation you will be fine. You may win some friends, open some minds, and feel the true love of Christ.
I love too many Mormons to not keep some connection to the church, so I think this is very good advice regardless of how involved I/we might be with the actual ward we live in.
8. Likewise, never worry that you're somehow mooching off the church by accepting the benefits of membership without actively contributing. You've done your time. Let the home teachers move your piano up the stairs. Go to the high priests' barbecue. Read those tear-jerking stories in the back of the Ensign about people who feel the hand of God blessing and protecting them, and allow your tears to be jerked. Anybody who is allowed to serve you in any capacity will enjoy the blessings of God, and your sincere thanks will mean the world to them.
I have to confess to you that with the exception of my mission I've never been a faithful Ensign reader, but for the First Presidency message when I was home teaching (which I did with irregularity) and a bishop. But I will keep my subscription to Sunstone current. Does that count?
9. Find your own ways to serve. If you're not actively involved in the Church, you need to find a way to get outside yourself and make a contribution. Volunteer at your kids' school. Tutor an immigrant. Better yet, ask your home teachers if they need any help, and give them a hand with their piano. I imagine that if you think back on your best experiences in the Church (especially as bishop), you'll see that nothing is quite as rewarding as service. If will keep you spiritually healthy.
Here you have brought forward one of the things I loved the most--and now miss the most--about the LDS Church. KK and I are each wading into new communities. As a family, we have waded into a new faith community. As individuals, we are entering new communities as well. It will take some time for us to find our places in these new communities, but I think I can speak for KK when I say that we are both actively looking for opportunities to serve.
10. Allow your kids to be Mormon if they want to. I bet they love Primary, and they'll probably be invited to attends all sorts of events during their growing-up years. They may get exposed to some anti-gay rhetoric that will be hurtful, but you'll be in the best position to defuse those sorts of crises. Be willing have friends take them to church, and be willing to drop them off when a ride falls through. Attend their baptisms (if they get to that point), and show up when they're going to give a talk or a musical number in sacrament meeting. With any luck, somebody will recognize you from the barbecue and you'll have a pleasant chat before the meeting starts.
This one is harder. My children will, no doubt, be exposed to anti-gay rhetoric as they grow up. My oldest daughter, E, is already a champion of sorts of gay rights, so I don't have a lot of concern that they won't be able to handle that. Of course, I wish they didn't have to confront pain and unpleasantness, but having a gay dad is their reality. People will be unkind. So KK and I have no intention of regularly putting them in an environment where they not only might hear such rhetoric but where the things they would be taught about homosexuality run counter to what we believe.
That said, my children are the great-great-great-grandaughters of a Church president. They have ancestors who crossed the plains to get to the Great Salt Lake Valley. I want them to be proud of their pioneer heritage. I want them to know their own Mormon history. We will teach it to them. Their grandparents and aunts and uncles will teach it to them. If, in time, they decide on their own that they want to be Mormons, I will honor their choice. But it will have to be something they come to on their own, born of their own desire. They will have to become Mormons much as I became a Mormon if they decide that is what they want.
Well, that's a lot of advice from a perfect stranger, but you can't say it's unsolicited advice. It comes from a faithful, heterosexual Mormon who will never have to stand in your shoes, so you're certainly within your rights to disregard it entirely. But it also comes from somebody who has stood on countless doorsteps with a membership record in hand, looking to determine whether a new move-in will or will not accept visits. I am always thrilled when the response is positive, and the person is willing to interact with the Church on his or her own terms.
This touched me. I've been that Mormon, too, standing on a doorstep or stoop, looking for the lost. When I was bishop, we tried our best to track people down and hear their stories so we would know, and so we could take care of them--even if that meant simply honoring their wishes to remain unengaged. This is the best part of the Church. It's not dogma or doctrine. It's just good faithful people looking after one another--and the others who struggle with faith or commitment or testimony. This is the Church I loved and still love.
sharq, thank you again for your kind words of advice.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Choices, Part II
In the previous post, KK described the journey that has led her to make the choices she has made over the past year of her life. I've written about my own journey of choices in several places on HURRICANE, and I'd like to return to it now.
Yesterday I had lunch with someone I consider a dear friend and one of the very best Mormons I know. He is kind, caring, compassionate, and tolerant. He is faithful, but not dogmatic. As we have talked about difficult issues over the years, I have always felt that he has carefully examined all sides. He seeks understanding for its own sake. He acknowledges that sometimes there are gaps in our understanding or that teaching and reality don't always seem to line up as nicely as we would like.
So it was no surprise to me when he told me yesterday that though he is sad to see me leave the Church and thinks that it is in a very real way the wrong thing for me to do, he also understands as well as he thinks a faithful straight Mormon guy can why I have made the decision to no longer associate with the Church. He then told me that what has been really hard about my coming out is not that I'm gay (which he seems genuinely okay with), or even that KK and I are spliltting up (though he seems less okay with that), but that I have decided to leave the Church.
This puzzles me.
I have heard this from others in comments here on the blog. I have heard it in e-mails from friends and family ("I hope that in time you will return to the fullness of the gospel.") . I have heard it in phone calls ("I know that you have a testimony that the Church is true and I hope you'll return to it one day."). Anonymous Jerk and others have been pointed in telling me that I have broken my covenants and that the path I am on now leads only to unhappiness. "I hope you find what you are looking for, " I hear. "But you won't," seems to be the unspoken conclusion from many.
On one level, I understand this. These are expressions of faith and testimony offered in love and conviction. These comments come from people that I know genuinely believe that the best--and often only--path to true happiness is found within the teachings of the LDS Church, which includes marriage and commitment to covenants.
But mostly I'm puzzled.
To those who think the choices I am making now are wrong and lead nowhere but unhappiness, I ask this, in all sincerity: What should I do?
Each time I ask this question, I get no answer. I'm told what I shouldn't do, but no one seems willing or able to tell me what I should do.
First, marriage. I don't know how KK and I could stay married. We had reached a very unhappy place in our marriage before I came out. And while coming out opened up new (and old) lines of communication between us that restored much of our relationship, I came to realize that I could never feel as though I was free of the self loathing I felt for so long unless I was able to live a gay life (life--not lifestyle). What could we go back to?
I know other mixed orientation couples that are trying to make it work. Those I know most intimately have had tremendous challenges and I think the jury is still very much out on whether or not they can--or even should--continue to try to make it work. I'm acquainted with other gay married Mormon men here in the gay bloggernacle, some of whom seem to be having greater success. Yet even there, there seems to be so much angst.
Yesterday I had lunch with someone I consider a dear friend and one of the very best Mormons I know. He is kind, caring, compassionate, and tolerant. He is faithful, but not dogmatic. As we have talked about difficult issues over the years, I have always felt that he has carefully examined all sides. He seeks understanding for its own sake. He acknowledges that sometimes there are gaps in our understanding or that teaching and reality don't always seem to line up as nicely as we would like.
So it was no surprise to me when he told me yesterday that though he is sad to see me leave the Church and thinks that it is in a very real way the wrong thing for me to do, he also understands as well as he thinks a faithful straight Mormon guy can why I have made the decision to no longer associate with the Church. He then told me that what has been really hard about my coming out is not that I'm gay (which he seems genuinely okay with), or even that KK and I are spliltting up (though he seems less okay with that), but that I have decided to leave the Church.
This puzzles me.
I have heard this from others in comments here on the blog. I have heard it in e-mails from friends and family ("I hope that in time you will return to the fullness of the gospel.") . I have heard it in phone calls ("I know that you have a testimony that the Church is true and I hope you'll return to it one day."). Anonymous Jerk and others have been pointed in telling me that I have broken my covenants and that the path I am on now leads only to unhappiness. "I hope you find what you are looking for, " I hear. "But you won't," seems to be the unspoken conclusion from many.
On one level, I understand this. These are expressions of faith and testimony offered in love and conviction. These comments come from people that I know genuinely believe that the best--and often only--path to true happiness is found within the teachings of the LDS Church, which includes marriage and commitment to covenants.
But mostly I'm puzzled.
To those who think the choices I am making now are wrong and lead nowhere but unhappiness, I ask this, in all sincerity: What should I do?
Each time I ask this question, I get no answer. I'm told what I shouldn't do, but no one seems willing or able to tell me what I should do.
First, marriage. I don't know how KK and I could stay married. We had reached a very unhappy place in our marriage before I came out. And while coming out opened up new (and old) lines of communication between us that restored much of our relationship, I came to realize that I could never feel as though I was free of the self loathing I felt for so long unless I was able to live a gay life (life--not lifestyle). What could we go back to?
I know other mixed orientation couples that are trying to make it work. Those I know most intimately have had tremendous challenges and I think the jury is still very much out on whether or not they can--or even should--continue to try to make it work. I'm acquainted with other gay married Mormon men here in the gay bloggernacle, some of whom seem to be having greater success. Yet even there, there seems to be so much angst.
The research KK and I have done into mixed orientation marriages suggests that most of those that last do so because a) their is openness in the marriage and b) the gay spouse at some point is permitted to pursue same-sex relationships on the side. Are there exceptions here? Absolutely. Is this the life I want? Absolutely not. Is it the life KK wants? Absolutely not.
Next, faith and testimony. I simply don't know how to stay in the Church. The underlying assumption in LDS thinking about homosexuality is that it is aberrant and wrong and must never be acted on. Could I live life as a celibate gay LDS man? No, I don't think I could. And it's not because of the sex. It's because it would require me to think of myself as somehow defective (even if it's not my fault). I feel as though I could only stay Mormon if were willing to accept that my homosexuality is a pathology, akin to alcoholism, compulsive gambling or some other affliction that draws one into sinful behavior. Plus, my faith shattered last year. And as I have put it back together, it is something new, something more symbolic and metaphoric and less literal. Something not quite Mormon anymore.
I've been accused of constructing a new belief system to justify my new identity and (again, largely unspoken, but implied) my sinful behavior. Why then do I feel a sense of integrity I've never had before? Why do I feel fundamentally honest in a way that I never have before? Why do I feel God's love in a way that I never have before? How can what I feel now fit with what the Church teaches and expects of me?
Someone take up the challenge here, because I really want to know. If you think what I am doing is wrong and will lead only to sadness, offer me something better. Share a possibility I haven't considered. Tell me how you think I can be happy (and gay--because that's not going to change).
Let's bring this back to choice. I have choices. Being gay isn't one of them, but what I do with it certainly is. I am making what I believe to be the best choices I can for myself and my family. Are there better choices here?
I await your responses.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Choices
I began to make a comment on one of the other threads about this, but decided it was better for a new post. Now that we've experienced all kinds of reactions to our news, and have let it settle with people for a few weeks, I have begun to sort the responses in my mind. Many of our Mormon friends and family fall into the same category-- love us, but don't love the choices we're making. Very sad for the loss of our family, but not optimistic that we can make a good future for ourselves. I've expected these kinds of reactions, because there is a measure of sadness, and I know that not everyone is going to understand why we do the things we do. I don't understand why anyone else does the things they do, either, so it's only fair.
What I want to say is this: Chris and I are each doing the very best we can to salvage the love and family that we want to continue to share. We are doing the best we can to remain close to God and to our Savior. We are doing the best we can to give our girls a spiritual and open environment where they can feel free to explore their own beliefs as they get older, but where we make it clear to them what we believe.
A lot of people have said that they've seen this situation before, and that it never ends well, never results in happiness for either of the parties. While Chris has already pointed out that we do know a few couples who have made it work pretty well, I agree that when a husband comes out of the closet, it rarely translates into a positive thing for the family.
I would venture a guess that because this situation is so personal to me, I have done more reading and research on this topic than most of you. From that reading, I've gained a bit of perspective as to why this is so. First, many husbands who have come out do so only when either their adulterous homosexual activities are exposed, or when the guilt stemming from those activities is so overwhelming they cannot take it anymore and have to confess. Many husbands struggle with their homosexuality alone and rather than include their wives as helpmates in this struggle, try to "get it out of their system" by exploring anonymous sexual encounters, or even real relationships with men unbeknownst to their wives. Beginning the conversation with "I'm gay, and here's what I've been doing about it" is not the best way to explore healthy dialogue regarding the future of the relationship, and leaves many wives feeling so betrayed and angry that there is no hope of a family.
Chris did not choose this path. He chose to begin the conversation by saying, "I'm gay, and I don't know what to do about it, but I want you to be a part of whatever comes next." He chose to remain faithful to the marriage vows he took until he is released from those vows. He chose to talk rather than act. He trusted me enough to know that I would be a partner in finding a way for our family to find the most happiness.
Second, even when there has been no infidelity, but especially when there has, many wives react to their husbands' news with disgust and horror. Many choose to cut off contact, to start their lives over and forget they were ever married to a gay man. Sadly, this sometimes includes cutting their children's father out of their lives as well. This can't be the way a family finds happiness.
I was blessed to have an immediate empathy for Chris, and during our first long night of discussion after he came out to me, I gained an understanding of homosexuality that I can only attribute to God. I believe He allowed me to ask the questions I needed to, and enlightened my mind with true empathy. This wasn't sympathy, as in, "This must have been so hard for you, tell me all about it, I'm sorry you had to do this alone, I'm your friend, I'm here for you." This was a completely real feeling of BEING Chris, of looking back on his life and heartache and actually feeling it as if I had been in his soul with him. I saw things from his point of view, I cried as if I had been the one traumatized by my self-hatred and fear of judgement. It was only one of many miracles given to me that have enabled me to not just "get through" the last nine months, but to grow from it and have a restored faith and hope in the future.
I did not walk away from the church lightly. I did not follow Chris out without considering my beliefs for myself. The first week after the coming out, I had such spiritual experiences that my testimony of God as my true Father was undeniably strengthened, and I felt Him holding me and comforting me in a way that I had never understood before. I knew He was there, and since the only way I had come to know Him was in the Mormon church, I wanted to find a way to make it work for me. In another post, I'll talk more about my spiritual experiences and my rebuilding of my faith. For now I will simply say that I asked in earnest of God how I could reconcile my newfound knowledge of homosexuality and my unshakeable witness that everything Chris had shared with me about his experience was true, with the doctrine the church has given on the subject. They were completely at odds. This struggle took me to Elder Oaks's article (which Chris referred to in an earlier post) and to various church-sanctioned sites such as Evergreen International, and took me to my knees, and took me to my ward, and took me through long nights of discussion with Chris.
I know that many of you will perhaps be even more saddened by what I concluded. I know that many of you will believe, and some will say, that there is no way the Spirit of the True and Living God would ever lead someone away from the LDS church. I know that many of you will decide that it is an evil spirit that pursuaded me of this, or that Chris's influence on me was too strong and I couldn't stand on my own. Our beliefs differ here, friends, and only I know what I felt and the strength I have gained from the Spirit on this topic. I cannot explain it. I cannot tell you why I was blessed this way. But neither can I deny it.
So my choice was not simply to follow Chris, but to follow God. My choice was to turn my path over to Him and allow Him to guide me, cautious step by cautious step, along the high wire that has been my life over the past year. My choice is to pursue the happiness that He has in store for me, in the only way I know how right now.
Matthew 7: 18-22:
Some of you may not see the good fruit that has come for us in the past year. Some of you may view our decision to leave the church as proof of evil fruit from a corrupt tree. I respect that belief, and wish you the peace an happiness you are entitled to from searching out a path for yourself on which God will walk with you. From my viewpoint, every person this experience has touched, really touched, has been the better for it, and those are the fruits I see. Is it easy? No. Will it be easy in the future? No. But I believe Elder Monson once said, "That which is easy is rarely right." (Sorry, can't find the exact reference right now...) I am following the path I believe is right, but not easy, not by a long shot. So when you say to me that we're in for a rough time, or that the way will be hard for us, or that we have no easy choices, I say you're right. I embrace the roughness. It will polish me. I embrace the choices I am making, because I am making them with God.
What I want to say is this: Chris and I are each doing the very best we can to salvage the love and family that we want to continue to share. We are doing the best we can to remain close to God and to our Savior. We are doing the best we can to give our girls a spiritual and open environment where they can feel free to explore their own beliefs as they get older, but where we make it clear to them what we believe.
A lot of people have said that they've seen this situation before, and that it never ends well, never results in happiness for either of the parties. While Chris has already pointed out that we do know a few couples who have made it work pretty well, I agree that when a husband comes out of the closet, it rarely translates into a positive thing for the family.
I would venture a guess that because this situation is so personal to me, I have done more reading and research on this topic than most of you. From that reading, I've gained a bit of perspective as to why this is so. First, many husbands who have come out do so only when either their adulterous homosexual activities are exposed, or when the guilt stemming from those activities is so overwhelming they cannot take it anymore and have to confess. Many husbands struggle with their homosexuality alone and rather than include their wives as helpmates in this struggle, try to "get it out of their system" by exploring anonymous sexual encounters, or even real relationships with men unbeknownst to their wives. Beginning the conversation with "I'm gay, and here's what I've been doing about it" is not the best way to explore healthy dialogue regarding the future of the relationship, and leaves many wives feeling so betrayed and angry that there is no hope of a family.
Chris did not choose this path. He chose to begin the conversation by saying, "I'm gay, and I don't know what to do about it, but I want you to be a part of whatever comes next." He chose to remain faithful to the marriage vows he took until he is released from those vows. He chose to talk rather than act. He trusted me enough to know that I would be a partner in finding a way for our family to find the most happiness.
Second, even when there has been no infidelity, but especially when there has, many wives react to their husbands' news with disgust and horror. Many choose to cut off contact, to start their lives over and forget they were ever married to a gay man. Sadly, this sometimes includes cutting their children's father out of their lives as well. This can't be the way a family finds happiness.
I was blessed to have an immediate empathy for Chris, and during our first long night of discussion after he came out to me, I gained an understanding of homosexuality that I can only attribute to God. I believe He allowed me to ask the questions I needed to, and enlightened my mind with true empathy. This wasn't sympathy, as in, "This must have been so hard for you, tell me all about it, I'm sorry you had to do this alone, I'm your friend, I'm here for you." This was a completely real feeling of BEING Chris, of looking back on his life and heartache and actually feeling it as if I had been in his soul with him. I saw things from his point of view, I cried as if I had been the one traumatized by my self-hatred and fear of judgement. It was only one of many miracles given to me that have enabled me to not just "get through" the last nine months, but to grow from it and have a restored faith and hope in the future.
I did not walk away from the church lightly. I did not follow Chris out without considering my beliefs for myself. The first week after the coming out, I had such spiritual experiences that my testimony of God as my true Father was undeniably strengthened, and I felt Him holding me and comforting me in a way that I had never understood before. I knew He was there, and since the only way I had come to know Him was in the Mormon church, I wanted to find a way to make it work for me. In another post, I'll talk more about my spiritual experiences and my rebuilding of my faith. For now I will simply say that I asked in earnest of God how I could reconcile my newfound knowledge of homosexuality and my unshakeable witness that everything Chris had shared with me about his experience was true, with the doctrine the church has given on the subject. They were completely at odds. This struggle took me to Elder Oaks's article (which Chris referred to in an earlier post) and to various church-sanctioned sites such as Evergreen International, and took me to my knees, and took me to my ward, and took me through long nights of discussion with Chris.
I know that many of you will perhaps be even more saddened by what I concluded. I know that many of you will believe, and some will say, that there is no way the Spirit of the True and Living God would ever lead someone away from the LDS church. I know that many of you will decide that it is an evil spirit that pursuaded me of this, or that Chris's influence on me was too strong and I couldn't stand on my own. Our beliefs differ here, friends, and only I know what I felt and the strength I have gained from the Spirit on this topic. I cannot explain it. I cannot tell you why I was blessed this way. But neither can I deny it.
So my choice was not simply to follow Chris, but to follow God. My choice was to turn my path over to Him and allow Him to guide me, cautious step by cautious step, along the high wire that has been my life over the past year. My choice is to pursue the happiness that He has in store for me, in the only way I know how right now.
Matthew 7: 18-22:
A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring
forth good fruit
Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn
down, and cast into the fire.
Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know
them.
Some of you may not see the good fruit that has come for us in the past year. Some of you may view our decision to leave the church as proof of evil fruit from a corrupt tree. I respect that belief, and wish you the peace an happiness you are entitled to from searching out a path for yourself on which God will walk with you. From my viewpoint, every person this experience has touched, really touched, has been the better for it, and those are the fruits I see. Is it easy? No. Will it be easy in the future? No. But I believe Elder Monson once said, "That which is easy is rarely right." (Sorry, can't find the exact reference right now...) I am following the path I believe is right, but not easy, not by a long shot. So when you say to me that we're in for a rough time, or that the way will be hard for us, or that we have no easy choices, I say you're right. I embrace the roughness. It will polish me. I embrace the choices I am making, because I am making them with God.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
An explanation--and a testimony
A friend of mine who also knew me as his bishop told me yesterday that the hurt that people are feeling with my news stems from the fact that I seem to have abruptly abandoned my testimony. Just a little more than a year ago I was a bishop. Today, I no longer consider myself a Mormon. How is it possible for this to all happen overnight?
The answer is that it has, in fact, been a long time coming.
Faith and doubt co-existed in my mind for many years. When I came home from my mission, I went into a brief period of inactivity. It didn't last long, but I was able to come out of it in part because I discovered the world of Sunstone and Dialogue and connected to other Mormons who were willing to acknowledge their doubts and difficulties, but who were also able to stay commited and faithful to the Church. That's what I wanted, and that's what I was ultimately able to do.
The absence of big conversion moment didn't really bother me. I knew other people who also had never had that big moment. And I had had smaller moments that seemed to confirm for me the path that I was on. I felt God speak to me when my relationship with K turned romantic. I felt the Lord work through me when I was young men's president in Chicago. And K and I both felt drawn to Brooklyn after graduate school, and we quickly became deeply involved in church service when we moved there.
Indeed, one year after we arrived, I was called as bishop. And I know as much as I know anything that my call to serve as bishop came from God. I knew it was going to happen five weeks before I was asked to meet with the stake president. The Lord told me it was going to happen. He told me to prepare.
I needed that calling. It was an affirmation to me that I was loved of God. When the call came I was certain that my homosexuality was no longer an issue. There was nothing that I needed to repent of, and K and I had started our family and felt content with life. I was still aware of my attraction to men at that point--I certainly noticed attractive men wherever I went--but it seemed managable and being gay just didn't fit with the life I was building for myself.
I cherished my experience as bishop. I felt like I was able to help a lot of people, and that, in turn, helped me to stay focused on the things that seemed to matter most. I was able to set aside my "issues," which ranged from my struggles with my sexuality to various questions in Mormon history to doubts about the historicity of the Book of Mormon. None of that seemed to matter when I was actively engaged in service, and I was inspired by the study that being a good bishop demanded.
And still, I wasn't well. I blamed other things for my struggles--issues from my childhood and with my parents, job troubles, even sleep deprivation (by 2002, I had two small children). But really, I felt like I was living a lie each day--that by simply not acknowledging my struggles with identity and sexuality, I was living a life that was utterly lacking in integrity. It wore on me.
As the day of my release as bishop came last year, I was filled with dread. I didn't know how I would be able to go on with the life I had built for myself. I felt my faith slipping and the doubts taking over. And the biggest doubt was the defining one--homosexuality. I just didn't believe what the Church was teaching about what it was and how to deal with it. And I didn't believe it because it didn't match with the reality of my own experience. It didn't match with my own intimate, personal truth. As I spiraled downward, the faith that I knew began to unravel very quickly. Once I accepted a truth about who I was that conflicted with what the Chruch taught, I began to question just about everything else that had troubled me over the years.
Coming out to K was a profoundly spiritual experience. We connected in a way that I can only describe as divine. The Lord allowed us to understand each other in a way that was truly miraculous. And I began to feel the presence of God in my life in a way that I hadn't before. I began to feel affirmed and loved as I was and not as I had tried and failed to make myself be.
A defining moment came for me when I went with K to a church service at a Protestant church here in our hometown in December. During the course of worship I was moved to tears several times. I can't even remember now what the pastor said that brought me to tears, but I remember very distinctly the sense of unconditional love I felt from God as I sat through the service. For the first time in my life I sat through a church worship service and didn't berate myself for my failings, particularly the "failing" of my sexuality. I felt the Spirit of God wash over me in a way that it rarely had in my life and I felt the Spirit whisper to me, simply, "I love you as you are."
That was a turning point for me. It essentially solidified my decision to leave the LDS Church, because I knew that I would never get to a place of acceptance about my sexuality and identity if I returned. In that moment, I felt that my life was a gift from God, not a cross to bear.
Bishop J took me to task for abandoning my testimony. I understand why he sees it that way, and why so many who have known me over the years have seen it that way. But that's not what happened. My faith changed. As I got to know myself better and accept the reality of my sexual orientation, I heard God speak to me in a new and different way.
To my Mormon friends: I honor and respect your faith. Many of you have written to me and told me that I helped stengthen your faith and testimony. That makes me happy. That was what I genuinely trying to do when I was a bishop and a believing Mormon. I'm sorry if the path I have chosen now has upset some that knew me before. I really, truly am. But K and I have tried to stay close to God through all of this, and we believe that he has guided us through this difficult year and continues to guide us now.
The answer is that it has, in fact, been a long time coming.
Faith and doubt co-existed in my mind for many years. When I came home from my mission, I went into a brief period of inactivity. It didn't last long, but I was able to come out of it in part because I discovered the world of Sunstone and Dialogue and connected to other Mormons who were willing to acknowledge their doubts and difficulties, but who were also able to stay commited and faithful to the Church. That's what I wanted, and that's what I was ultimately able to do.
The absence of big conversion moment didn't really bother me. I knew other people who also had never had that big moment. And I had had smaller moments that seemed to confirm for me the path that I was on. I felt God speak to me when my relationship with K turned romantic. I felt the Lord work through me when I was young men's president in Chicago. And K and I both felt drawn to Brooklyn after graduate school, and we quickly became deeply involved in church service when we moved there.
Indeed, one year after we arrived, I was called as bishop. And I know as much as I know anything that my call to serve as bishop came from God. I knew it was going to happen five weeks before I was asked to meet with the stake president. The Lord told me it was going to happen. He told me to prepare.
I needed that calling. It was an affirmation to me that I was loved of God. When the call came I was certain that my homosexuality was no longer an issue. There was nothing that I needed to repent of, and K and I had started our family and felt content with life. I was still aware of my attraction to men at that point--I certainly noticed attractive men wherever I went--but it seemed managable and being gay just didn't fit with the life I was building for myself.
I cherished my experience as bishop. I felt like I was able to help a lot of people, and that, in turn, helped me to stay focused on the things that seemed to matter most. I was able to set aside my "issues," which ranged from my struggles with my sexuality to various questions in Mormon history to doubts about the historicity of the Book of Mormon. None of that seemed to matter when I was actively engaged in service, and I was inspired by the study that being a good bishop demanded.
And still, I wasn't well. I blamed other things for my struggles--issues from my childhood and with my parents, job troubles, even sleep deprivation (by 2002, I had two small children). But really, I felt like I was living a lie each day--that by simply not acknowledging my struggles with identity and sexuality, I was living a life that was utterly lacking in integrity. It wore on me.
As the day of my release as bishop came last year, I was filled with dread. I didn't know how I would be able to go on with the life I had built for myself. I felt my faith slipping and the doubts taking over. And the biggest doubt was the defining one--homosexuality. I just didn't believe what the Church was teaching about what it was and how to deal with it. And I didn't believe it because it didn't match with the reality of my own experience. It didn't match with my own intimate, personal truth. As I spiraled downward, the faith that I knew began to unravel very quickly. Once I accepted a truth about who I was that conflicted with what the Chruch taught, I began to question just about everything else that had troubled me over the years.
Coming out to K was a profoundly spiritual experience. We connected in a way that I can only describe as divine. The Lord allowed us to understand each other in a way that was truly miraculous. And I began to feel the presence of God in my life in a way that I hadn't before. I began to feel affirmed and loved as I was and not as I had tried and failed to make myself be.
A defining moment came for me when I went with K to a church service at a Protestant church here in our hometown in December. During the course of worship I was moved to tears several times. I can't even remember now what the pastor said that brought me to tears, but I remember very distinctly the sense of unconditional love I felt from God as I sat through the service. For the first time in my life I sat through a church worship service and didn't berate myself for my failings, particularly the "failing" of my sexuality. I felt the Spirit of God wash over me in a way that it rarely had in my life and I felt the Spirit whisper to me, simply, "I love you as you are."
That was a turning point for me. It essentially solidified my decision to leave the LDS Church, because I knew that I would never get to a place of acceptance about my sexuality and identity if I returned. In that moment, I felt that my life was a gift from God, not a cross to bear.
Bishop J took me to task for abandoning my testimony. I understand why he sees it that way, and why so many who have known me over the years have seen it that way. But that's not what happened. My faith changed. As I got to know myself better and accept the reality of my sexual orientation, I heard God speak to me in a new and different way.
To my Mormon friends: I honor and respect your faith. Many of you have written to me and told me that I helped stengthen your faith and testimony. That makes me happy. That was what I genuinely trying to do when I was a bishop and a believing Mormon. I'm sorry if the path I have chosen now has upset some that knew me before. I really, truly am. But K and I have tried to stay close to God through all of this, and we believe that he has guided us through this difficult year and continues to guide us now.
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