Dichotomy

Omega (& Alpha)

2011-01-05T17:35:00.004-07:00

I'm done. I'm no longer Mormon (officially), or In The Closet, or plagued with the Dichotomy between homosexuality and the church.

There's no longer any reason for me to post here.

But... At the advice of others I'm going to keep blogging. Sometimes about gay and/or church stuff, but mostly about anything that seems important enough to me to write about.

I'll leave this blog up, for posterity.

But if you want to hear anything more from me, you'll need to head over here.

THE END

Whataya Want From Me?

2010-12-28T17:37:00.000-07:00

I feel kinda like a "me too"--I won't (with this post) be the fist MoHo blogger in recent history to wonder whether there's any point in continuing, or to wonder what I have left to contribute to the community. Come to think of it this isn't even the first time I've wondered such things on my own blog.

But the fact is I've been feeling disconnected from the MoHo blog community lately. I haven't been as diligent in adding new blogs to my feed reader as they've appeared. I haven't been as meticulous in reading every post on those that are in my reader--it's becoming more and more common for me to "mark as read" a whole list of posts after a quick browse of the summaries or first paragraphs.

There are reasons for this, I think. (Well, obviously there are reasons. What I mean is that I think I know what at least some of those reasons are...)

In general (or at least it seems to me) the "point" of a MoHo blog is to explore the dichotomy of being gay and Mormon, and to attempt to find resolution (through the therapy of spewing one's thoughts onto the screen, as well as through the feedback received in comments by other MoHos as well as those who [though not gay and/or not Mormon themselves] for whatever reason have taken an interest in the MoHo predicament).

I've done that (and this blog has been invaluable in that process--for all of the reasons stated above). I've resolved my issues with the church and with my orientation to my satisfaction. I am no longer in the least bit conflicted about who I am (a father, designer, geek, chef, and gay man, among other things) and what I want (a more-or-less "normal" life that hopefully includes, at some point [or multiple points] meaningful, loving, romantic relation(s) with another man/men). I've solidified my spiritual beliefs (with the understanding that spirituality in general is apt to be somewhat fluid--and therefore with an openness to new understanding and changes in belief as my experiences dictate) and my feelings toward the LDS church (fairly detached--respecting the contributions it's made to my life but no longer controlled by or unduly influenced by its teachings and doctrines).

I've even found resolution and a fairly stable situation in my married life (which is a topic only addressed by a fairly minor subset of the MoHo community) and clarified (in my own mind) my feelings on mixed-orientation marriage in general (adamantly against marriage for gay men who are still single, and as supportive as possible of those who are already in a MOM situation as they navigate their own paths and find their own resolution).

No, my life isn't a cakewalk. I have the same problems everyone has: less money than I'd like, less time than I need, and occasional challenges to overcome. But those are just "normal" problems, and probably (I assume) of little interest to the MoHo community (though perhaps of more interest to those within the community who have become more than casual aquaintances).

So if I'm generally happy and generally at peace, what do I have left to write about?

As well, I've found that (as selfish as this may seem to some) as I've resolved all of my issues to my own satisfaction I've lost a measure of patience with others who are going through the struggles that I've already been through. I wouldn't dream of claiming that I have the answers for them, or that my choices are going to be the "right" choices for everyone... And yet I find myself a little bit frustrated with those who (from my perspective) refuse to accept the "truths" that I've discovered (particularly those who believe and promote the idea that they can change their orientation and those who are determined to find an opposite-sex spouse--because in both of these scenarios my own experience [as well as the shared experience of many dozens of my friends] would seem to indicate that their struggles and efforts are virtually certain to result in pain and heartache, with little to no "joy" in the journey).

If I can blatantly hijack (and perhaps mis-use) an allegory... It's like I'm Lehi at the Tree of Life watching those poor souls who are wandering through the mists of darkness and studiously ignoring the voices of those of us who have successfully navigated the straits and found peace.

It makes reading some of the MoHo blogs (especially the newer ones) difficult--which contributes to the disconnect I feel.

There's another reason for that disconnect, though. One that I've hesitated to write about for quite a while now, because I'm worried about coming across as self-pitying (and about the potential "you brought it on yourself" comments that I might get in response)...

I freely acknowledge that at least some of the feelings I'm about to detail are probably imaginary. And I've learned well the dangers of assuming that I know what other people are thinking and feeling. But I'm also typically fairly good at reading people, and there have been enough semi-awkward moments and read-between-the-lines comments (and even a couple of overt, direct statements) that I'm fairly certain that at least some of what I've felt (and still not described to you my readers--that's coming in the next paragraph) is real and actual...

I've disappointed people.

Oh, sure, I've disappointed my extended family, and some members of my ward, and other friends and neighbors who hold tight to the church's current teachings on homosexuality (and marriage/divorce, and the Word of Wisdom, etc., etc.)... But that's to be expected. I've always been a "pleaser", and tried to do what others expect of my, and so it's been a bit difficult to know that people I care about are not pleased, but rather disappointed and dismayed at the choices I've made. But I was an active, believing Mormon recently enough that I understand their disappointment, and that makes it a little easier to swallow.

It's harder for me to understand the (possibly imagined, but seemingly real) disappointment of others who have taken similar steps and made many of the same choices I have...

I'm talking, of course, about other MoHos, and as I said earlier: even if I may be imagining some of the disappointment that I feel from them, I've had experiences that indicate that at least some of it is real. And it hurts.

The reasons for the disappointment vary, but here are some of the main issues:

Some are disappointed because they hoped (a year or more ago) that Sarah and I had found it!!!--that we had discovered the formula by which a gay Mormon can remain active in the church while still being true to who he was, and by which a gay married man could remain faithful to his wife and yet still have his needs for male conding and intimacy met. They feel I've "given up", or that I've abandoned the ideals I once had in favor of a selfish pursuit of gratification and worldly pleasure. (And of course, from one perspective, I suppose that's exactly what I've done--I'm just surprised that certain people have taken that perspective, given their own situations and choices).

Others are disappointed for a more emotional reason: They've come to love and respect and admire Sarah, and they recognize that my actions and choices are likely to cause her some pain and unhappiness, and so they feel anger toward me for making those choices and causing that pain. Of course, I feel some of this anger myself--whatever our current situation or marital status, I do love Sarah, and it pains me that I've been unable to find any way of achieving my own happiness that didn't cost her some of hers.

But it also pains me that those who have the luxury of never having to have made such a choice would despise me for choosing what, ultimately, seemed to me the best option.

I'd like to be clear: I haven't felt this anger or disappointment from many of our friends, and some have gone out of their way to indicate their love and support for both Sarah and me--sentiments that I've greatly appreciated.

And in fact, apart from one or two who have explicitly stated their disappointment, I'm not even sure that I could pinpoint who feels one way and who another. But still, there's been a general impression (which again, I realize could be partially imagined) of disappointment and/or anger from a community that has historically been supportive--and as a result I've felt a bit less attached to that community than I once did.

All of this together has lead to a dearth of new posts from me, and the last few months I've simply lived my life the best I can without the level of participation (as a reader, commenter, and poster) in the MoHo community that I had grown accustomed to in the previous two years.

... And all of this leads to this post, in which I wonder if there's any compelling reason for me to continue to read and comment and post.

As has been my wont since mid-2008, when a question like this looms heavy in my mind I spit my thoughts out onto the web and wait for the (always varied and seldom boring) responses from any who are interested enough to read what I've written...

My half of that process is now complete.

(Relation)Ships in the Night

2010-12-07T17:40:00.000-07:00

I've wondered recently if unrealistic expectations about the durability of relationships might often result in unnecessary heartache... These expectations would be more pronounced among Mormons, with their doctrinal belief in "time and all eternity", but even the "until death do us part" model that most of the rest of the world subscribes to would contribute to the (possible) problem.

I'm a little nervous to share my views, because I don't want to come across as cynical or overly negative. But then, I've already touched lightly on how I've come to see relationships in earlier posts (focusing on the concept of marriage and my own relationship with my wife), so perhaps my readers won't be terribly surprised by what I have to say.

I want to make it clear, too, that I believe it's entirely possible for two people to be happy together (and madly in love) for the several decades of their natural lives together, and even through the eternities.

I'm just not sure it's likely enough to be held up as the gold standard that every relationship should aspire to.

I don't have any sources to cite (mostly because I'm lazy) but I'm going to accept as true the following statistics (all of which come from articles that I find credible):

Somewhere around 50% of all first marriages end in divorce.

For second (and subsequent) marriages that number is higher: between 60% and 80%, depending on the study.

The average length of a marriage that ends in divorce (less than 50%, based on the above statistics) is 7 to 8 years.

I'm also going to accept as true, based entirely on anecdotal evidence, that some portion of couples who do not divorce (i.e. who remain married until one of the partners dies) remain together for some reason other than "love" or "happiness". This portion is probably impossible to quantify, since marital "success" is held in high enough esteem in our culture that at least some unhappily married couples would claim happiness in an effort to appear successful in marriage (or simply due to wishful thinking or self-delusion).

I'm being rather negative so far, aren't I?

Even accepting all of the above as true, of course, leaves us with some percentage of couples who are genuinely happy or in love, and who remain married because of that fact.

I think that's fantastic.

If, however, all of the above "facts" are true, it can be stated with a fair bit of certainty that those types of marriages are in the minority... Which leaves us with more than half of the adult population either ending their relationships or enduring bad relationships.

(A clarification here: a "bad" relationship is, for the sake of this post, one that does not provide fulfillment and happiness to both partners. I do believe that it's entirely possible for a "bad" relationship to be a loving one, in which an incompatible set of partners loves each other and finds some happiness in the relationship despite their incompatibility. I'm still going to refer to that type of relationship as a "bad" one, for the sake of this article.)

As painful as divorce can be, those who choose that option have likely made (in my view) the correct choice--though many of them have postponed it far longer than necessary and accrued additional heartache in the process.

... As I read over what I've written, though, I realize that I've gotten a bit off track, so I'm going to reboot a little, leaving what I've written so far as background info, but broadening the scope of the discussion to "relationships" rather than just "marriages"...

Why do people fall in love? A "nutshell" answer might be that each person has a specific set of attributes (physical, mental, emotional, etc.) that either matches (i.e. is similar to) or complements (is different from, but in a manner that is complementary to) the attributes and traits of the other, such that together they form a unit that is greater than the sum of the individuals.

When it happens, it's beautiful.

Of course, it's very unlikely that one individual will perfectly match or complement another. There are bound to be a few rough spots in which they don't make a good pair. Love (or "chemistry", if you prefer) will only blossom if the "matches" outweigh the "conflicts" to a great enough degree (the measure of which will be different for different individuals).

In an ideal relationship those traits or attributes that introduce conflict will be addressed, with each individual changing to the extent that they are able whatever attributes they bring that are detrimental to the relationship. I think that most people believe that love inspires us to become a better person for the one we love. In most cases "better" simply means "more like the person my partner would like me to be".

And so a relationship is formed, and each of the partners in the relationship will work to conform him/herself to the needs of the other.

In some cases, where openness and communication exist and where each partner values the relationship enough to put sufficient effort into maintaining it, the partners will grow and change together, and they remain happily in love (perhaps "until death do they part" or even "for time and all eternity").

But in some cases it doesn't work that way.

Perhaps one or the other (or both) of the partners lacks the ability to communicate needs and issues. The partners' efforts to fill in the rough spots and create a more perfect bond will end up misguided, and the changes that are made might actually result in reduced compatibility. This relationship can be saved if the problem is recognized early enough and communication skills strengthened, but sometimes one or the other (or both) partners will change too drastically in the wrong direction thanks to the missing or inadequate communication, and before the problem is recognized the couple will find that they no longer fit together at all.

Or perhaps one of the partners doesn't value the relationship enough, and all of the effort and change happens on one side. Carried to an extreme, this can result in the "changing" partner completely losing him/herself in his efforts to be the person his partner wants him to be (without the compromise or "meeting halfway" that marks a successful relationship). Ultimately the "changing" partner's efforts will prove insufficient, and he will be unhappy in the relationship.

Or perhaps the mis-matches and issues that prevent the couple from being a "perfect" partnership are too significant, or simply unchangeable. Even the greatest of intentions and sincerest of efforts cannot change who a person is at his/her core, and a couple who believed themselves compatible as they discovered their matching and complementary traits will later find that their initial infatuation had blinded them to issues that are simply unresolvable.

Or perhaps, or perhaps, or perhaps... There are dozens (or thousands, or billions) or permutations on the theme with the end result being the same: A couple who either cannot or will not move toward a more perfect compatibility or bond.

Both the "time and eternity" and "death do us part" models would insist that those couples have little choice but to make the best of a bad situation and eke out as much happiness as they are able. Both models might insist that if each partner simply tries harder or gives more weight to the other's needs they will find the happiness that they seek. Or that God can heal the rough spots and will, if admitted as a "third person" in the relationship, provide all the happiness and love that either partner could desire.

Many couples believe these things and remain together, unhappy and drifting further apart as animosity and anger creep into the widening gap.

But what if "time and eternity" and "death do us part" aren't the optimal models? Or at least not the universally desirable ones? What if some (or perhaps even most) couples simply cannot fit the optimal pattern and grow together for the remainder of their days (or for all eternity)?

What if the better option for some (or even most?) couples is a recognition of the insurmountable issues and an appreciation for the time that they have enjoyed together, even as the partnership is dissolved so that each partner is free to seek happiness and fulfillment in a different direction, or with a different person?

Obviously I'm thinking of my own situation as I write this, and anyone who is familiar with Sarah and me and our relationship will recognize the viewpoints and ideas that I'm sharing. In our case, a very large issue (my orientation) would forever prevent us from becoming as "perfect" a match as we might hope for, and in our case we (perhaps mostly I, but at least to some extent we) have decided on the latter option and chosen to remain friends while dissolving our partnership. Those who have wondered about our situation will hopefully find at least some explanation in the thoughts I've posted to this point.

But I'm not only talking about us. I know many others who fit one or another of the "or perhaps" situations outlined above, but who grasp the untangling threads of their relationships in the hope against evidence that something might change enough that they can salvage its remains and rebuild what they once had.

(I'd like to state as an aside that I'm not specifically referring to other mixed-orientation marriages. In fact, one of the main influences that brought me to my current viewpoint was a friend whose same-sex relationship of multiple years recently ended, and my musings are intended to include all relationships regardless of gender or orientation. I'd also like to make it clear that I do not presume to know what is best for anyone besides myself--and sometimes not even that.)

I've wondered, as I've contemplated the relationships of friends and family (as well as my own) whether heartache could have been lessened by adopting a less rigid view of relationships than the "eternal" or "until death" models allow.

Take Sarah and me, for example. The other day Sarah was lamenting the fact that our relationship was not, apparently, what she had always believed it to be. She wondered whether love was even real, and whether there was any point in seeking it.

An "eternal" model of marriage tells us that ours is a failed marriage, because we have proven unable to live up to the ideal that the LDS church teaches.

But I have absolutely no regrets for the choices that brought Sarah and I together, and that allowed us to create a beautiful family. My love for her is as real as it ever was. I'm profoundly grateful for the time that we have had together, and I wouldn't trade it for any other life or experience if given the chance. At the same time, though, I recognize that there are fundamental issues that will always prevent us from becoming more than what we have been. I worry that attempting to maintain a relationship in the face of those incompatibilities will ultimately lead to an insurmountable rift, across which even friendship cannot hold. I choose to appreciate what we have had, and to redefine our relationship going forward as something other than the partnership that we have had, and to separate so that each of us can search for someone who can match and complement us more fully and perfectly.

In my mind, our marriage has been a success, and that successful marriage has now come to an end. I can adopt this view because I no longer believe that the ideal of "eternal" or "until death" is the only "true" or "successful" relationship.

One more clarification: Relationships are difficult. There's nothing easy about taking two individuals--no matter how well-matched or how complementary--and merging them into a single entity. Every relationship requires effort and communication and compromise.

Sometimes--and perhaps ideally--effort and communication and compromise will be sufficient, and a couple can grow together, getting ever-closer to what would be considered a "perfect" match.

But sometimes--and perhaps even usually--effort and communication and compromise will ultimately prove inadequate, and their continued application will begin to bear the ill fruits of antipathy or animosity or anger. I believe that ideally a couple will be able to recognize when that turning point has arrived and be willing to take the difficult step of dissolving the relationship so that each partner can, individually, continue upward on a course to happiness and fulfillment.

Love on the Rocks

2010-11-11T14:39:00.004-07:00

or: What I Learned From My First Gay Relationship

A lot has happened since my last post. :)

Some background... I met David very briefly at a Simply Social activity. In fact, the "meeting" might not have been anything more than a brief locking of eyes--we were sitting at separate tables and I don't remember whether we actually exchanged names or shook hands or anything.

A few days later I saw him on a popular gay social network. I was tempted to message him or friend him, but in the end I let my shyness and insecurity win and did nothing. Luckily, a few days later he chatted me. My new profile pic had caught his eye (and that's the subject for another blog post)... He knew he knew me from somewhere, but couldn't remember where. We ended up chatting for quite a long time and arranged to meet after I left work for coffee, dinner, and conversation.

By the end of that first date we both liked each other quite a lot.

We went out several more times over the next few weeks. He came to the house and met Sarah and the kids. By the time we had known each other a couple of weeks, I found myself missing him when we were apart, and when we were together I was happier than I could remember being in a long time.

I realized that I was in ... well, possibly not in love, but at the very least, in extreme like.

Astute readers will notice the extensive use of past tense...

When we met, it had been less than two months since David had divorced his husband of nearly five years. The breakup had been painful for him. The thought of being in a relationship so soon frightened him. He started pulling away and I, not wanting to stand in the way of his happiness or to add stress or anxiety to his life, let him go. It's been a friendly parting. The discussion that marked the "end" of whatever it was we had was just this last Monday.

I still hurt.

And I still hope that things might change in the future, but for now the relationship is, for all purposes, over, and I have the opportunity to look back at the last month and take whatever lessons and new knowledge I can from it.

Here's what I've learned:

I Have The Most Amazing Wife In The World

Okay... I actually already knew this. But Sarah's acceptance of David and her support of my relationship with him was incredible. There were difficult moments (which is certainly to be expected), but in general she seemed happy that I was happy. And unless she's gotten a lot better at hiding her true feelings from me in the last few months, her support and understanding were genuine.

As an extension of this, my kids are pretty amazing too. The older ones figured out fairly quickly that David was not "just another MoHo friend". They accepted this and loved and accepted him.

I'm Gay

Yeah, I already knew this, too. I realize that I was (am) infatuated and twitterpated and all of that, and that to at least some extent I was (am) in love with the idea of a relationship as much as I was with David himself... But I also felt different with David than I have with Sarah (the only other relationship I've really had). I think that I've experienced a different kind of love than I've ever felt before--romantic love--and since that was with a guy, well...

What I'm really trying to say is that experience was a confirmation that I'm not only more attracted to men, physically, but that I can also connect more readily with them on an emotional level. In other words, I'm gay. :)

Love (or twitterpation or infatuation or whatever) is Worth It

I've wondered. Just a week before I met David, in fact, I had reached a new low. I had been stood up or lied to by three men in less than a week, and I was seriously beginning to wonder whether there was such a thing as a gay man who wanted something other than to get in my pants, and whether it was worth the effort to try to meet new people and make new friends, and whether it might be easier to just give up and content myself with whatever my relationship with Sarah had become.

And of course, it's inevitable, since this relationship was so short-lived, that I might still wonder whether it's worth it...

But when I remember the time we spent together--whether it was going to lunch or watching a movie on the couch or just sitting and talking--the questions evaporate. The happiness I experienced in that brief month was worth whatever else might come with it.

Love is lovely! :)

I'm Sexy

That is, I don't have to lose 30 lbs of fat and put on 15 lbs of muscle to be physically attractive and desirable.

I've had friends tell me I was attractive, and I believed them, to an extent... But I've also been told that I would have a hard time finding a guy if I didn't lose 15 lbs, and I believed that, too.

David thoroughly convinced me that I was attractive and desirable. Being with him was an immense boost to my self confidence. I'd still like to lose a little weight and gain some muscle tone, but I've also learned to like myself as I currently am, and to recognize that I don't need to achieve the "ideal" that gay men tend to gravitate to and aspire to in order to be loved.

Intelligence and Personality Are Sexy

To be honest, I was a little bit surprised to find myself falling so completely head over heels for David. He's adorable, but he's also quite different (physically) from the guys I typically find myself staring at. The physical attraction was definitely there, but I was also drawn to his intellect, and his personality, and his kind and caring nature.

I still find myself staring at hot guys, but if, when they open their mouths, they come across as uneducated or conceited or dull, that attraction evaporates.

I've never considered myself shallow, but I have to admit that up until a few weeks ago a hot body mattered to me a little more than it should have.

Communication is Key

Chalk this one up as another thing that I already knew. But in looking at how things went with David I recognize that they could have gone quite differently.

I don't like "what-if" games, but... If we hadn't communicated our feelings, I would have remained cluelss about the reason for his distance and withdrawal. I would have felt hurt. My self-esteem would have been damaged. We might still be "together" right now, but the relationship would be deteriorating, and it would likely have ultimately ended with resentment and bitterness.

Instead, because we communicated (and also because we both respect each other's feelings) we remain friends.

A lot like what's happened between Sarah and myself, come to think of it...

I'm sure there's more, but this post is getting long enough. I'll just close by saying that I'm grateful for David--for my time with him and for what he's taught me and given me.

What Are We?

2010-10-18T13:10:00.000-06:00

It's been difficult figuring out what Sarah and I are to each other right now...

We're not the only ones who are confused. Sarah's mom knows a fair bit about our situation--she knows that I'm sleeping in the basement, and that we expect to divorce eventually. She was over once or twice last week helping with a baby quilt, and commented to Sarah about how "normal" everything seemed. She wondered if Sarah would need a ride to and from a scheduled medical procedure and was surprised to learn that I was taking time off work to take care of things. The day after the procedure she was at our home again and was again surprised when I texted Sarah to check up on her and see how she was doing.

I guess she expects a separated / divorcing couple to act differently... To display more animosity, perhaps? Or at least not to get along as well as Sarah and I do? To not care about each other? I don't know...

Sarah and I rarely argue. We're still friends. Even good friends. I hope we always will be.

But we're not just friends, and that makes it hard sometimes to know how to interact...

For example: let's say, hypothetically, that I met someone. A guy. Who I like, and who likes me back (yeah, that's a stretch, but let's go with it)...

Normally, I think, someone would be anxious to talk to his friends--especially his best friend--about this great guy he met. He'd want to share the excitement and nervousness of a budding potential relationship with the people he cares about, because in caring about them, he also cares about their views and opinions, and because he believes that they want him to be happy and would be interested in knowing about things that might contribute to his happiness...

The pronouns in that paragraph are a little confusing, perhaps. Let's switch back to my hypothetical situation... If I was to meet a guy, I should want to tell my friends--and especially my best friend--all about him.

But Sarah isn't just my best friend, she's also my wife, or my [somewhat-but-not-completely-]ex-wife, or something like that. She's somebody who not only cares about me as a friend, but also who is in love with me and (I think, to some extent at least) mourning the loss of what we used to have...

How could I tell her that I had (hypothetically) met a guy when doing so is almost certain to hurt her? How can I show her how excited I am (hypothetically) about a potential relationship when that news would reinforce the fact that our relationship has changed, and not in ways that she would like it to have changed?

But on the other hand, if I don't talk to her about it, what does that say about our friendship? And if we're not friends (or at least not the sort of friend that talks about these things), and not a couple (at least not like we used to be), then what does that make us?

I'm sure we'll figure all of this out eventually. It would be nice to have the answers before this (hypothetical) situation is reality... But I expect we'll be playing it by ear for quite some time, and at least occasionally making mistakes as we try to sort out where we stand in relation to each other.

Wish us luck!

They Don't Get It?

2010-10-12T16:08:00.001-06:00

I'm not sure whether the church is being intentionally disingenuous, or whether they simply don't get it.

HRC delivered a petition to the church today, asking for more understanding and an official recognition that sexual orientation is inherent and that in most cases it cannot (and should not) be "changed".

Unfortunately, the church's response fails to address the main issue.

Michael Otterson spoke for the church and stated that "we join our voice with others in unreserved condemnation of acts of cruelty or attempts to belittle or mock any group or individual that is different." He emphasized that the church's "doctrinal position" (that sex outside of marriage is wrong, and that marriage can only be between a man and a woman) "should never, ever be used as justification for unkindness."

He even goes so far as to "[recognize] that those [members of the church] who are attracted to others of the same sex experience deep emotional, social and physical feelings", but reiterates that "the church distinguishes between feelings or inclinations on the one hand and behavior on the other."

All of this is very nice.

But a week and a half ago President Packer--who is revered and esteemed as a prophet, seer and revelator--stated quite clearly that God (our Heavenly Father) would not create a person with homosexual tendencies. Millions of men and women throughout the church and around the world heard the message quite clearly:

Homosexual "tendencies" are "unnatural" and "impure". Nobody was born with them and they are not an inherent part of a gay person's being, because God would not have created someone that way.

Millions of men and women throughout the church and around the world took that message to its logical conclusion:

If God didn't make people that way, then (1) those feelings may very well be of one's own choosing, and (2) striving for perfection means ridding oneself of those "impure" and "unnatural" tendencies.

Somewhere between five and ten percent of those millions of men and women are gay, and have now been told by a man who they believe speaks for God that something that seems (to them) to be a core part of their being are, in fact, despised by God (as something "impure" and "unnatural").

The remaining ninety to ninety-five percent of the membership have now been told by a man who they believe speaks for God that their gay brothers and sisters are not inherently "that way", and that they they can (and should) change.

Even if those gay members never hear a word of taunting, or of condemnation, or of criticism... Even if those straight member never express anything but love and support for their gay brothers and sisters, gay members of the church are going to experience a dissonance between what they've been told (that they aren't really "that way") and what they inherently know (that their orientation is indeed a core part of who they are).

Decrying bullying and persecution is all well and good... But in this case the church itself (as represented by President Packer) and, in fact, God Himself (as represented by His apostle, a "prophet, seer, and revelator") are the "bullies". They are the ones telling gay people (through their representative) that they are less because of the "impure" and "unnatural" tendencies that they experience.

And the members of the church (having been given the same message) will reinforce that message--no matter how lovingly and supportively they do it--and continue to do harm to their gay brothers and sisters.

Until the church is bold enough to take the position that sexual orientation (be it hereo- or homo-) is inherent, and that it is not necessary or desirable for a person to try to change such a core characteristic, gay members of the church will continue to experience the inner turmoil and conflict (fed by the well-intended "loving" and "supportive" comments of fellow members) that comes from being told that who they are is "impure" and "unnatural" and antithetical to God's plan.

Scripture Lost

2010-10-08T14:23:00.001-06:00

I've refrained from commenting on Boyd Packer's talk last Sunday, because I'm doing my best to avoid negativity toward the church or its leaders (and I would not have had anything positive to say about his remarks).

Today, Facebook and the "bloggernacle" are abuzz with talk of the published (written) version of his talk, and the differences between the "transcript" and what was said over the pulpit.

The change that has everyone talking is in Packer's remarks on homosexuality. Here is the statement in question (with formatting to indicate ~~deletions~~ and additions):

Some suppose that they were preset and cannot overcome what they feel are inborn ~~tendencies~~temptations toward the impure and unnatural. Not so! ~~Why would our Heavenly Father do that to anyone?~~ Remember, HeGod is our Heavenly Father.

"Tendencies" have become "temptations", and the question of why God would "do that to anyone" has vanished.

Interesting changes, to be sure, and we could probably analyze them and dissect them and find meaning in them.

But I'm even more interested in a different change--as well as in the manner in which the changes were made...

First, the other change:

Fifteen years ago, with the world in turmoil, the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles issued "The Family: A Proclamation to the World," the fifth proclamation in the history of the church. ~~It qualifies according to scriptural definition as a revelation and it would do well that members of the Church would read and follow.~~ It is a guide that members of the Church would do well to read and to follow.

If we assume that the published "transcripts" of the talk have passed through Correlation in order to ensure that they are "doctrinally correct", then we can take this change as the official declaration of the church that "The Family: A Proclamation to the World" is not considered revelation or scripture.

This is a big deal. "The Proclamation" (as it's often referred to) has been elevated to the status of "scripture" in the minds of most members of the church. It is frequently used to defend and justify statements that are antagonistic toward gay people, and those who use it thusly feel that they have the weight of a "thus saith the Lord" revelation to support them. That support has now officially been knocked out from underneath them.

"The Family: A Proclamation to the World" has become "more like guidelines, really".

Unfortunately, the manner in which the changes were made ensures that most members will continue to perceive the Proclamation as "revelation"...

The changes were made without fanfare, and without any indication in the written/printed transcript itself that it differs from the oral presentation of the sermon. Only those who pay attention to both the verbal and written versions of the talk and compare them carefully will ever recognize that the changes were made. True, it's the written version (in which the Proclamation is not referred to as "revelation") that will be cited and quoted from, and so it cannot be used to positively support the notion that the Proclamation is "scripture"--but the revision only refutes that notion when it is compared to the original, something that most members will never do.

I've blogged before about the church's tendency to re-write "doctrine" and history as subtly as possible, so as to maintain its image as a church that does not change (God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, after all). This week we see one of these subtle rewrites in action.

But those who pay attention now have it from the church itself that "The Proclamation"--the document that the church uses to support its efforts against gay marriage and acceptance of gays in general--is nothing more than a "guide", and not "revelation" from God.

Resigned

2010-09-20T13:27:00.000-06:00

On Saturday I got a notification (from the Post Office) that the bishop had received my letter:

[Bishop],

With this letter I resign my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, effective immediately. I hereby withdraw my consent to be treated as a member or to be subject to church rules, policies, beliefs, and 'discipline'. As I am no longer a member, I expect my name and all related documents to be permanently and completely removed from your records.

I have given this matter considerable thought. I understand what you consider to be the 'seriousness' and 'consequences' of my action. I am aware that according to the Handbook of Instruction my resignation "cancels the effects of baptism and confirmation, withdraws the priesthood held by a male member and revokes temple blessings". I also understand that I will be "readmitted to the church by baptism only after a thorough interview".

It is my understanding that you are required to indicate in the related paperwork my reason for leaving. I believe my reasons for leaving are immaterial, but they include issues with church doctrine and policy, and you may indicate such in the required field.

My resignation should be processed immediately, without any 'waiting period'. I will not be dissuaded and I will not change my mind. I expect this matter to be handled promptly, with respect and with full confidentiality.

From this point forward, the only contact I expect from the church or its representatives is a single letter confirming that I am no longer listed as a member of the church.

Respectfully,
Scott

...

Although there's some paperwork to be processed before the records officially reflect it, I'm no longer a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I first considered resigning about a year ago, after what I felt was an abusive interview by my (former) bishop when I went in to renew my temple recommend, but I didn't want to act rashly. Then, too, I was aware that a formal resignation would be hurtful to my family (particularly Sarah and my parents and immediate siblings), and I didn't want to cause unnecessary pain. For several months now I've not really considered myself a member of the church anyway. Making this separation official hasn't seemed important enough to justify taking a step that would distress the people I loved.

Everything changed a few weeks ago... Our stake president approached Sarah at church one Sunday. If I recall, he suggested that she might meet with him again to discuss her temple recommend. But he also indicated to her that he had called and had a conversation with my dad.

(My dad volunteered to come to one of our meetings with the stake president toward the end of last year, as sort of an "advocate". He felt that his position as a believing, active member of the church and a former bishop--and as someone who felt that neither Sarah nor I had to that point done anything that warranted denying us our recommends--might give him some small amount of influence with our stake president. So it didn't seem too strange to hear that the SP had called my dad to talk to him.)

A couple of weeks later Sarah was visiting with my dad and she mentioned the stake president, wondering what the purpose of his call had been. He told her that the SP had called to "soften the blow" and to let him know that they intended to call a disciplinary council.

I was rather upset when I heard the news. I didn't (and still don't) feel that I had done anything that would justify disciplinary action. It bothered me that the stake president had declared his intentions to my dad, in what I felt was a breach of privacy and confidentiality. I began mulling over my options, trying to figure out whether to wait for the "summons" and go through with the "court", or whether I should simply resign and save myself the anxiety.

It didn't take long for me to decide that I should resign. From the several dozen stories I've heard and based on my own experiences with the stake president I have little trust in the impartiality or compassion of those who would be "judging" me, and I had no wish to subject myself to whatever charges and accusations might be made. I drafted my letter, held on to it for a few days to make sure that I was comfortable with what I was doing, and then mailed it via Certified Mail with Return Receipt Requested to the bishop.

The day I mailed it, Sarah had an appointment with the bishop. She tells me that in the course of their visit he mentioned to her that I should expect notice of disciplinary action. She responded that they need not bother--that I had mailed a letter of resignation that day, and that he would most likely receive it the next day.

I wasn't sure what I would feel when I got the signed receipt indicating that the bishop had definitely received my letter. I have friends who have resigned or been excommunicated from the church, and many have told me that they felt an unexpected sense of loss, even when they were absolutely certain that they had made the correct choice.

I didn't feel anything like that. In fact, if I felt anything at all, it was relief, and a sense of release. In the couple of days since the only negative emotion I've felt was a small pang of worry about how my parents will take the news.

...

I just deleted several paragraphs that speculated on what the charges might have been, and how the council might have proceeded, and what the eventual result might have been. I typed them all out because I'm mildly curious, but after I had done so I realized that none of it really matters, and that including that speculation in this post would lead to comments and discussion that might obligate me to respond--and the truth is I simply don't care enough about the whole situation to put any energy into defending myself.

Maybe I am "apostate", according to the definition in the Handbook of Instruction (the "secret" manual that outlines the procedures and policies of the church for local leaders to follow). But I don't really care if the church or my local leaders or the members of the ward see me in that way. The simple truth is that I am no longer a member of the church, and I am now free to believe what I want to believe and act how I want to act without fear of reprisal from an organization that puts altogether too much emphasis (in my opinion) on conformity in mind and deed.

I don't know where my posts will go from here. I don't feel any animosity toward the church, so I don't expect my blog to become "anti-Mormon" or anything like that. I'm still deeply steeped in Mormonism from a cultural standpoint, and the beliefs and participation of close family members guarantees that the church will have some influence in my life still, so it's likely that there will still be posts that discuss the church. I expect that there will be more negative than positive in my mentions of the church, because I feel like it has been a more negative than a positive influence in my life--especially over the two years since I came out.

No doubt some will see these negative mentions and become all the more convinced that I've become "apostate" and that I'm now an enemy of the church. I can't control what other people think or believe, so I guess I'll just have to live with that.

I also expect that some will read my posts that mention drinking coffee or having a drink at the bar or club and conclude that I "left so that I could sin". I was a true-believing Mormon long enough to remember when I made the same assumption about others who had left. In truth, I simply see no reason to follow the rules and policies that bind members of the church. I didn't "leave to sin"--I just have a different concept of what is truly "right" or "wrong" in God's eyes.

I'm sure that some will hold out some hope that I'll eventually see the error of my ways (perhaps I'll have an "Alma the Younger" moment?) and come back to the church. I'd be foolish to definitely state that this won't happen, but at the moment I don't see myself ever having any interest in going back.

In fact, from my current perspective, I would see a return to the church as exactly that--it would be "going back", or taking backward steps in my progression. I'm a gay man, and it's become perfectly clear that there's no place for me in the LDS church. For me, progress requires that I leave the church behind.

Depression, Drugs, and Doctors

2010-09-14T16:54:00.001-06:00

I'm a little embarrassed about that last post. But I think it's an accurate picture of where I've been several times in the last week or two, and I've been grateful for the support and advice I've gotten in the comments. I guess I'll leave it up.

I think that relationships and dating aren't the main issue anyway. The main issue is that it's September.

I've blogged before about how difficult September tends to be for me. I think that there are both psysiological and emotional/psychological issues: The shortening days (and possibly the abrupt change in my sleep schedule as I start getting up a couple of hours earlier to help get kids to school) tend to screw up my melatonin/serotonin cycle. This leads to general depression and a decreased ability to handle emotional challenges. Then, too, I think I associate September with things like my Mom's death (when I was thirteen) and the destruction of the World Trade Center.

I was actually determined that this September was going to be a good one. I thought I could conquer it with a positive attitude. Apparently not.

So I guess it's time to try meds again. Through trial and error I've found something that seems to work with few if any side effects. I just need to go to the doctor and get a prescription.

...And that's a whole 'nother issue.

I had an appointment with our family practitioner several months ago. It was just a routine follow-up on the meds I was taking (for migraines and my seasonal depression). Sarah has been open with him about our situation when she's taken herself or the kids to see him for one thing or another. I hadn't ever had a problem with that--I don't really mind who knows about me or us, and really the only thing that had ever kept me from telling him what was going on was my inherent shyness and a disinclination to talk about myself much.

Anyway...

A week or two before my appointment with him, Sarah had told him that I was going to clubs, and occasionally going out with guys, and that divorce was a definite possibility.

As a result, my visit with him consisted of about five minutes of consultation on my meds ("Everything okay? Good--here's a refill") and about fifteen minutes of him telling me that he knew that the church is true, and that it's the only place where I can find happiness, and that he had had me on his mind ever since he had talked to Sarah and felt strongly that he should talk to me about everything and tell me to stay active in the church, and that he knew that the choices I was making were wrong--but that he didn't judge me for them...

It was very uncomfortable. I listened, and nodded, and when he was finished I thanked him and got my prescription and left...

But I'm not sure I ever want to go back.

Sarah has talked to him since then, and told him that he had made me uncomfortable. He has assured her that it was a one-time thing, and that he wouldn't bring it up again.

But still. The whole "I'm not going to judge you but the things you're doing are wrong" thing (which I've gotten from others too) really bothers me. What is "you're doing wrong" if it isn't a judgment? And maybe I'm just being too sensitive, but I don't want to sit there talking to my doctor and thinking the whole time that he is seeing me as a sinner.

And if I'm not comfortable with him now, I'm certainly not going to be comfortable talking to him when I have any sexual experience with a man (which he would definitely disapprove of--non-judgmentally, of course). But that's one of the more important things to talk to a doctor about, from what I hear--can't be too careful about those STIs, right?

Bottom line is, if I'm going to try to go back on meds for my seasonal depression, I think it'll have to be with a more definitely gay-friendly doctor.

Anyone have a good doctor who's gay-friendly and on our insurance plan?

Outdated

2010-09-13T15:48:00.001-06:00

WARNING: The post that follows is quite likely to be somewhat self-pitying, and will probably come across as a plea for validation or compliments. If you have little tolerance for such things, you may prefer to avoid reading any further.

So... I've made my decision. Sarah and I are ending our marriage and I'm looking for someone who I can love and live in happiness with.

Except... I have no idea how to find him. And I'm even beginning to wonder if he might not exist.

By "he" I don't mean a single "soul mate" because I don't believe in such things. A few weeks ago I would confidently have told you that I believed that there have to be hundreds or even thousands of men around the world who I could love and be happy with, and who could love me back.

An in fact, I still logically believe all of that.

But emotionally I'm struggling with the idea that anyone could want me.

I'm going to get in trouble for writing this, I'm sure. Sarah has made it plain that she wants me. I have dozens or even hundreds of friends who obviously love me--as a friend.

And I even flatter myself into believing that more than one person (of my gay male friends) actually has some interest in me as something more than a friend. Unfortunately, I don't find myself feeling the same way about them. Even though I love them and value their friendship and their place in my life, I dont find myself hoping for anything more in my relationship with them.

Is "chemistry" real? Am I realistic in hoping that there will be a "spark"--a desire for something more than friendship? Am I wrong to discount the possibility of a relationship with a friend who I don't feel that "connection" with?

Here's what I imagine should happen: I will have feelings for a man that will include physical attraction as well as an emotional connection and a desire to get to know him better--to learn more about his past and his hopes for the future. He will feel the same about me (physically, emotionally, etc.) and as we get to know each other those feelings will intensify until we reach a point where we can honestly say that we love each other (as in, we are "in love" with each other--as opposed to the platonic love that I already feel for my friends, completely independent of any physical attraction).

But so far...

... As an aside, I freely acknowledge that I'm probably being unrealistic in expecting too much in the short few months I've actually been "dating"...

But here's what's happened so far:

My first few dates were "safe" ones, with friends who I already knew fairly well and who I was already comfortable with. In some cases, there was perhaps some physical attraction. In other instances, the "date" was a chance to get my feet wet, and was in reality more "hanging out with a friend" than anything else.

Eventually, I got to the point where I was (relatively) comfortable meeting someone with the primary intention of going out with him. That is, I was not just taking out existing friends, but actively trying to meet people (who I hadn't known previously) who I was interested in. I've been on a few such dates over the last several weeks.

What I've recognized, recently, is that in virtually every case, I'm the one doing the contacting, and I'm the one doing the asking. And none of these "dates" has gone very far because any interest I've had in the other person has (at least as far as I can perceive) gone unreciprocated.

The one-sided nature of my recent dating experience was put in sharp focus over the last week or so.

I invited one man to watch a movie with me, and he accepted--but then he never showed up, and I eventually discovered that he had "lost track of time" at a friend's house.

A few days later another man declared some interest in going out with me, but when I extended an invitation, and then (a few days later) a second one, I received no response at all.

I had the same experience with another friend (who had clearly stated that he was interested in going out) a few days after that--not a word of response to my invitation, not even to decline (due to conflict or disinterest).

In each of these cases I tried to make it very clear at the beginning that I would prefer honesty over any effort to "spare my feelings"--and that I understood that there are legitimate reasons for someone to be reluctant to go out with me.

What reasons?

Well, I'm married, for one thing. I recognize and understand that some people will hesitate to go out with a married man--regardless of whether he is "separated" or whether his wife approves. This makes sense to me, and I would not be offended if someone was to tell me that this was an issue (and in fact I haven't been bothered the couple of times someone has been honest about it).

Then there's the fact that Sarah is so well-loved (and with good reason!) by our mutual friends. I can easily see a guy turning down a date with me out of concern that going out with me might hurt her feelings or damage his friendship with her.

I'm also in my mid-thirties, and some of the guys I've asked out have been in their mid-twenties--a not-insignificant age difference. I recognize that some people will be more sensitive to age differences than others, and that wouldn't bother me (and hasn't, the one or two times someone has clearly stated that the difference between our ages was greater than they were comfortable with).

Finally, I fully recognize that my attraction to someone might not be reciprocated, and I appreciate when I'm honestly told "you're not my type" or "I'm not interested in dating you".

But to be stood up, or ignored, by someone who has definitely stated that they wanted to go out... It hurts, a little bit. It makes me question my worth, and my desirability.

When it happens three times in a week, it forces me to evaluate my dating experience. And when, in doing so, I recognize that I've virtually always been the one to do the asking and inviting... Well, it's hard to believe that anyone would be interested in poor little me, when nobody has indicated any interest.

I'm being stupid, I know. I've already listed all of the legitimate reasons someone might not want to go out with me, even if he was interested at some level or another. But emotion and feelings aren't always able to be logical or rational... And right now I'm feeling very undesirable.

I'm not sure there's a point to any of this. Like I said at the beginning, this entire post is really nothing more than a self-pitying whine. I'll probably be embarrassed and disappointed with myself for even posting it, when I've come to my senses.

I worry, too, that the comments I receive will be along the lines of "If you're not happy trying to date, why not just be grateful for what you have with Sarah"... I'm not sure I can adequately answer that question, though I do believe there's an answer.

But oh well. For better or worse, I've got this all written and might as well post it.

So much for "no more blogging", eh? I'll try to make the next post happier.

The End?

2010-09-08T10:19:00.001-06:00

I'm not sure I should keep blogging.

A blog can too easily turn into a battleground. When someone hidden under a cloak of anonymity takes me to task it hardly registers, emotionally. When a stranger is harshly critical of my actions or thoughts the barbs and bullets bounce right off...

But when someone near and dear to me gives me a tongue lashing it's a lot harder to bear. I hate disappointing the people I love.

And given the nature of my situation, and my changing relationships with the people closest to me (and their understandible frustration with those changes), it seems it's becoming more and more likely that anything I say will invite harsh words from those whose opinions matter to me.

I'm trying to resign myself to the fact that when all is said and done, those who are angry with me might very well outnumber those who are happy for me.

I don't know if I'm strong enough to endure that.

Better, perhaps, to remain silent... To keep my thoughts and feelings to myself so as not to give friends and family more reason to lash out than I've already given them.

I took my blog down last night while I mulled over its future. I appreciate the several requests for access that I received--it's nice to know that so many people care about what I have to say (unless perhaps it's voyeurism and a morbid fascination with the train wreck that my life is becoming that keeps them interested?)

This isn't a definitive "goodbye"--I've seen enough "I'm done blogging" posts (later retracted) to know that promises like that are rarely kept. But it might be the mark of at least a temporary hiatus, as I wait for the dust to settle. We'll see.

What Is Marriage?

2010-08-12T15:06:00.001-06:00

I've put a fair bit of thought into the subject of marriage over the last few weeks. The future of my own marriage, obviously, has been on my mind. Then, too, Judge Walker's ruling on Prop 8 has highlighted some questions and issues that have given me much to think about.

What is marriage?

Some say it's a union of a man and woman--a union that is based on procreative ability, and that serves as the basic foundation of a family. A union that is blessed by God.

Others say that it's a joining of two people who love each other--a symbolic guesture that indicates a committment to each other and a desire to remain together (and exclusive) for the duration of the partners' natural lives (or even for eternity).

Gay people want legally-recognized marriage for the civil benefits it provides--the ability to file joint tax returns and receive health benefits from a spouse's employer and share legal custody of children.

What is my marriage? What do I want it to be?

Sarah and I are a few days away from our fifteenth anniversary. Fifteen years ago we knelt across an altar and made promises and were pronounced by a temple sealer (by both the religious and the civil authority that he had been given) to be married.

Less than a year later we welcomed a daughter into our family, and over the fourteen years that followed her birth four sons joined us as well.

Over those fifteen years we have filed taxes together, bought houses and cars together, shared health benefits, made financial decisions (both wise and foolish) together...

Throughout those fifteen years we have loved each other, and each has considered the other the most important person in his/her life.

It seems our marriage has met all of the qualifications and definitions and conditions I've laid out above--to some extent or another, at least, over these last fifteen years.

But over the last couple of years we've realized that some of the things we had assumed about our relationship were misunderstood and misperceived. I love Sarah, it's true, but because of who I am I'm incapable of loving her the way a husband normally loves his wife. The challenges that that incompatibility has introduced, and the longing for something more than what I've had, have combined to lead me to the conclusion that in this respect, at least, our marriage isn't what we've believed it was--or what I would like my marriage to be.

Given that, it seems logical that the next step should be to end the marriage--to bring it to a decisive conclusion so that each of us can look for a marriage that is more... marriage-like.

How far do we take that?

We still have children. I hope that we can always be a family. So no matter where we go from here that aspect of our marriage will remain intact.

We own a house together, and we owe debt together. I benefit from the health insurance that Sarah's employer offers, and our pooled incomes provide food and clothing for our children. Should that aspect of our marriage be dissolved because other elements are lacking? A separation of assets and a loss of the civil benefits that marriage provides would be a financial hardship for all of us, so we don't want to leap too hastily into any decision in this area.

And then, no matter what decision we make in other areas, our marriage--which was solemnized in a temple by a man who was authorized to exercise the sealing power of the priesthood--will still be considered intact in the church's eyes (until and unless Sarah is in a position to be sealed to another man, which would require a dissolution of our sealing).

What is our marriage?

An article in the New York Times a couple of weeks ago discussed "The Un-Divorced"--people who have dissolved one or more aspects of their marriage, but kept the legal, civil union intact. Various reasons are cited for such a decision: "It's complicated. I like my wife, I just can't live with her". "He would not get medical treatment if he weren't on my insurance ... and giving him that is less expensive than paying alimony". "I don't have much desire to remarry so there's no benefit to me from divorce."

Is this the answer?

We're already "un-divorced" to an extent. The romantic aspect of our marriage has faded away. We've "separated" in name if not in actual fact, at least as far as sleeping arrangments and emotional ties go.

But we remain partners in parenting. We continue to pool incomes and share ownership of assets. And of course, we haven't taken the step of dissolving our legal, civil marriage.

Perhaps it's best to continue this way for the forseeable future? Or are we just allowing fear of change to tie us to a situation that ultimately is not optimal?

If we continue as we are, what has marriage become to us? Are we declaring that the romantic aspect means nothing? That marriage (or our marriage, at least) is more an arrangement of convenience and a system of financial and legal benefits than a romantic uniting of souls? If (romantic/sexual) "love" and "marriage" go together ("like a horse and carriage", right?), is it possible to have the latter without the former? Or are we now just "domestic partnered" or "civil unioned" (despite the fact that, since we're a "heterosexual" couple, the state still officially applies the term "marriage" to our union)

I don't have any answers to these questions. And I suppose I don't need immediate answers--there's no compelling need to rush into any particular decision (though choosing not to choose is also a choice, I guess)...

Still, I'd like some input. What is marriage to you?

Appearance of Evil

2010-08-10T12:19:00.000-06:00

Many (most?) Mormons, and Christians in general, for that matter, are significantly concerned about avoiding the appearance of evil--as in, avoiding anything that could possibly be construed (by its appearance) as evil.

The justification for this concern is in Paul's first epistle to the members in Thessalonica. The King James translation of 1 Thes. 5:22 tells us to "abstain from all appearance of evil". That seems clear enough. Paul is telling us that it doesn't matter whether a thing is actually "evil" or not--if it even appears to be evil, it should be avoided. Right?

Growing up, this understanding of the "appearance of evil" was accepted as correct. We didn't play with playing cards because gambling is "evil" and playing cards are used to gamble, so playing anything with those cards could appear to be evil.

I learned to play solitaire with Rook cards. Rook cards were actually introduced by Parker Brothers specifically to provide an alternative to those who avoided playing cards for their "appearance of evil". A Rook deck contains four colors (black, red, yellow, green) with fourteen (numbered) cards of each color, plus a "Rook" card (the equivalent of a Joker). If you discard the fourteens (or modify the rules of your game a bit) you can play nearly any card game with a Rook deck (though traditional [Klondike] solitaire is a little challenging: since it's normally played with alternating colors the player must decide which two colors in a Rook deck are "red" and which two are "black").

I know many members of the church who would never consider setting foot in a Starbucks, despite the fact that Starbucks serves some decent pastries, hot chocolate, etc. The store is, primarily, a coffee shop, and since coffee is "evil" (in the minds of many members), just entering a Starbucks could appear to be evil, and it's therefore forbidden.

A "righteous" person will avoid tattoos and piercings, because some people who have tattoos and piercings also drink and smoke and do other "evil" things, and so having a tattoo or a piercing will automatically make someone appear evil. In fact, better to completely avoid others with tattoos or piercings, for appearance's sake.

A heterosexual man and woman--who are best friends, with no romantic or sexual interest in each other--must not live together (as roommates), because a man and woman (unwed) living in the same house could appear to be "evil".

Along the same lines, a gay man should not room with another gay man. Even if they have no interest in each other from a sexual or romantic standpoint, a roommate situation would certainly carry an "appearance of evil" and should therefore be avoided.

Some even go so far as to reject, disown, or otherwise shun their gay family members--because homosexuality is "evil", and maintaining a relationship with a gay person could make it appear that they "support" or "condone" evil. Better to sever ties and divide the family than to risk giving the wrong impression!

Except... Did Paul really say what we think he said?

Let's look at the verse in context... We'll back up a bit, and start in verse 14 (still in the King James, for now):

Now we exhort you, brethren, warn them that are unruly, comfort the feebleminded, support the weak, be patient toward all men. See that none render evil for evil unto any man, but ever follow that which is good, both among yourselves, and to all men. Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. Quench not the Spirit. Despise not prophesyings. Prove all things; hold fast that which is good. Abstain from all appearance of evil.

Paul is giving a general exhortation to the members. He encourages them to "warn them that are unruly" and "see that none render evil for evil unto any man", but he also insists that they should "comfort the feebleminded, support the weak, be patient toward all men." He tells them to "follow that which is good". He encourages them to "quench not [i.e. don't ignore] the Spirit" but to "prove [test] all things [and] hold fast [tight] that which is good"... and then, of course, to "abstain from all appearance of evil".

Taken in context, it appears (to me, at least) that verses 21 and 22 could be paraphrased as: "evaluate everything carefully, and hang on to it if it's good, or discard it if it's evil".

In fact, most translations differ from the King James in their rendering of verse 22, telling us instead that we should "avoid [or abstain from] every form [or type] of evil". The Greek word in question, eidous, could be translated as "appearance", but it could also (perhaps more accurately) be translated as "form" or "kind".

Translating the word as "form" or "kind" seems to make more sense in the context of the surrounding verses: "hold fast to things that are good, and avoid every type of evil". Judging a thing for its own worth, rather than by its appearance seems much more in line with Christ's teachings (which condemn the Pharisees for being "whited sepulchers" and promise us that although man looks on the "outward appearance", it's what's in the heart that matters most).

Are playing cards evil? In and of themselves? Of course not! They are pieces of card with printing on them, and they are no more evil than other pieces of card with printing on them (e.g. a Rook deck). Is gambling evil? Arguably so, and if we believe it is then we are right to avoid it. But there is no evil in using those pieces of card with printing on them to play other (non-gambling) games--and in fact if those games promote friendship and love it could easily be argued that they are not just non-evil, but actually good (and therefore to be "held fast" to).

Is homosexuality evil? Perhaps, if you subscribe to that view. A person who believes that it is should certainly abstain from homosexual behavior himself. But family and friendship are good, and to be embraced and held to. Even someone who considers homosexuality "evil" should be able to see the good in loving and supporting and caring for someone whose views on the subject differ.

When we are overly-concerned with appearance we become what Jesus despised: hypocrites and Pharisees who care more for the approval of men than the love of God. Let's instead "prove all things; hold fast that which is good, [and] avoid every type of evil".

Outside

2010-08-02T14:05:00.002-06:00

We blessed the baby yesterday.

Or, perhaps more accurately, they blessed the baby yesterday.

I'm not "worthy", you see. Because of choices I've made, I am prohibited from taking my child in my arms and declaring his name and pronouncing a blessing on him.

My father filled the role, and the blessing he gave was beautiful (even if it differed slightly from the one I would have given). My brothers and brothers-in-law stood in the circle that I was banned from.

I'm not upset. It didn't bother me. I think the best word to describe my feeling is "indifferent"...

We (Sarah and I) talked about not doing it. Even to the fervent believer with the firmest testimony of the Gospel, the baby blessing is not a "saving" ordinance--Sebastian could have participated in the church and made it to the Celestial Kingdom without a "name and a blessing".

In the end, it was external pressure that made the difference, I think. Family and friends would ask "when are you having him blessed?" and it was awkward (and a precursor to disappointed looks and comments) to say "we're thinking of not doing it". (Sarah: correct me if I'm wrong here--if it wasn't the expectations of others that encouraged you to change your mind).

Whatever the reason, the decision was made to proceed, and Sarah made the necessary arrangements with bishop and family.

In her discussion with the bishop, she assumed that I would not be allowed to give the blessing (which he confirmed, worried that she or I would take issue with that decision), but she wondered if I might stand in the circle. He wasn't sure, a week before the event, and told her he would need to give it some thought.

In that week, while he was thinking, I posted my last post, which made up his mind for him. He called Saturday, while I was preparing for the MoHo party, and told me that he had been reading my blog, and that he didn't feel he could let me participate. I assume it was the clear statement that I've been drinking when I go to a bar or club that made the difference to him--alcohol does seem to be pretty high on most members' lists of moral transgressions.

After telling me I couldn't participate, the bishop wondered if I would be there at all. I thought that was a silly question--despite the changes I've made in my life (and those to come) I still consider my family the most important thing in my life, and if I can pop into sacrament meeting to hear my teenagers sing a song for Father's Day, I'm certainly going to be there for what is (in the Mormon view) a fairly significant event in my son's life.

So of course I went. I even stayed for the entire meeting (though I wasn't sure until Sunday morning that I would actually do so). I sang the hymns and bowed my head through the prayers...

... And I passed the tray without partaking when the bread and water went by.

To be honest, I don't personally feel that I'm "unworthy" to take the sacrament (and in fact, in my opinion the very idea that someone can be "unworthy" to participate in an ordinance that promises forgiveness of sins is a little bit backward. I guess that means I don't have a firm testimony of the Book of Mormon [which promises that one who eats and drinks unworthily "eateth and drinketh damnation to his soul"]). And I've never been told that I'm not allowed to take the sacrament (as a disfellowshipped or excommunicated member would be told).

But I know what the "rules" are, and I know that according to those rules (in many peoples' eyes, at least) I am unworthy, and I didn't want to cause any problems or offend anyone who might see things differently than I do. So I passed the tray.

Between skipping the sacrament and sitting in the pew while my family blessed the baby, I guess I made it pretty obvious that I'm not a "faithful" member of the church anymore. I'm not even sure how much my family knows about my current position (both beliefs and actions)--most of them don't read my blog, and that isn't the sort of thing we talk about when we get together. They know more now than they did Sunday morning, I expect.

The testimonies were interesting. My dad stood up, and my brother-in-law as well. Possibly they bear their testimonies every month, and regularly stand in meetings outside their home ward. Or possibly they just felt movied by the spirit to stand. But I tend to think that at least in part they stood for me, hoping that their words would strike some nerve and inspire me to change my mind and heart and come back to church. I almost felt guilty for not reacting as I'm sure they hoped I would--I hate disappointing people.

If anything, though, attending that meeting and skipping the sacrament and sitting through my son's blessing made it all the more clear to me that the LDS church does not (for me) provide a spiritual setting that would improve my life. I can appreciate that many people do feel spiritually fed when they attend an LDS service. I have no argument with them when it comes to what is right for them... As long as they are willing to allow me to believe that what's right for me might be found someplace else. As long as they can at least tolerate my lack of devotion to the church.

... tolerate ...

One of the testimonies was from an older gentleman. He and his wife had recently attended a service at some other church. He told of how welcoming the members had been, and how hard they had tried to make him feel comfortable. He encouraged us (the congregation attending that sacrament meeting) to try harder to love members of other faiths. To be more accepting and tolerant of them.

I appreciated his message. Seen through the eyes of an active, faithful member of the church, it was a sweet message of brotherly love.

... But the part of me that has changed was cringing a little at his choice of words. Tolerance is all well and good, if that's the best that we can do. But I tend to believe that tolerance is not a Christlike attribute. It implies a "love the sinner, hate the sin" attitude--or in this case, a "love the non-member, hate the church they belong to" one. It indicates that the other person is to be seen with condescencion and pity... We love them, and we'll "tolerate" their silly beliefs and ideals--until they see the light and realize the error of their ways and accept our beliefs and ideals, which are clearly better.

Like I said... Seen through the Mormon lens it's a nice message. Seen from the outside...

That's where I am, these days. I stand outside. I observe, but I do not participate. I hold the tray in my hands as I pass it down the pew, but I don't partake. Even in my extended family I've become someone else--no longer (figuratively speaking) fully a "Nicholson", but someone to be tolerated (until I see the error of my ways and accept the better way that they subscribe to).

At times it's a little lonely. At other times it's liberating. In general, I'm happy where I am, and glad to be taking the steps that allow me to be who I am.

Most of the time, it's beautiful outside.

...

2010-07-30T13:02:00.002-06:00

I'm so grateful for the love and friendship that so many people freely give to Sarah and me. I feel like I owe something of an explanation to my Facebook friends, especially, who witnessed a meltdown via status updates yesterday and supported me through it.

If you read Sarah's blog, or if you have any skill at reading between the lines, you probably already know the basic issue: Sarah and I are headed for divorce.

This is my decision. It's not what she wants at all.

I won't presume to speak for her, but I believe that if she could have things entirely her way, I'd commit myself to her (and only her), bury my orientation as much as I could, and live the rest of my life (and the rest of eternity) as a gay man in a heterosexual relationship, trying to give her as much love and attention as I can manage and doing my best to be satisfied with what I could get out of that relationship.

I think I've made it clear to her that I can't (some would say won't) do that, so she's set her sights a bit lower: She has hoped that I could find a partner who would be willing to "share" me with her; that I could continue to give her as much attention as I could muster, using my relationship with him to compensate for whatever I couldn't get from her.

... And I honestly believe that that sort of relationship could work, with the right individuals. I've heard stories of people who have made it happen and been happy... I've just become increasingly convinced over the last few months that we aren't "the right individuals", and that we would not be able to find happiness in that sort of situation.

... So yesterday I told her so. And then, with the knowledge that I was hurting the person I love most in the world, I slipped into a state of extreme anxiety that eventually culminated in a panic attack (something I had never before experienced, though I've observed them often enough in Sarah and other friends).

At one point last night, when I was having a hard time breathing and couldn't feel my legs and had to press hard on my chest to take the edge off the stabbing pain I felt there, Sarah asked me if I was dying. I assured her that I wasn't. What I was thinking was: I could die, I think, if that's what you want. If I believed it would make you happy, I think that I could make my heart stop by pure force of will and free you from all the stress and anguish I constantly give you. I could do that for you... but I cannot live the rest of my life the way I've been living. Even for you--who I would do nearly anything for--I cannot do that.

Some will still insist that "won't" is more accurate than "can't". It's beyond my power to make anyone understand--those who do, will, and those who don't, won't (or can't).

I don't know if I need to add the disclaimer here that I'm not suicidal. I don't want to die, and I don't believe my death would accomplish anything. But the emotion and need behind this decision are that intense and irresistable (that dying would be easier than changing my mind).

Even though it's an emotional decision, it hasn't been made lightly. I don't intend to make any attempt to justify myself, but I would like to explain some of my thought processes for those who wish to make some effort to understand:

I've changed. We both have, actually, these last couple of years, but she much less than I.

Several of the changes in my own perception of the life, spirituality, and the world in general have introduced conflicts in our relationship. An obvious example: I don't believe (anymore) that alcohol is inherently evil, or that moderate, responsible drinking is a "sin" or a "transgression" or in any way wrong. Lately, when I go out to a bar or a club, I might drink a little. I'm careful, and I've never been more than slightly buzzed (and never hungover afterward), and I give myself plenty of time to sober up before I drive (even going so far as to check myself with a portable breath BAC tester that I keep in the car). For me, really, alcohol is mostly a fascinating new part of the culinary world--I've loved finding new tastes and learning about the origins and uses of different liquors. I do, too, enjoy the mild buzz that I get after a couple of drinks.

But Sarah believes (still) that drinking is wrong. She hates that I've tried alcohol, and she hates that I continue to try it. It's been a point of contention and the conflict doesn't appear to have any resolution forthcoming.

Then there's the coffee, and the dating, and the fact that I don't attend church anymore (or even necessarily believe in much of what is taught there)...

In a nutshell, she wants a husband who is an active, believing priesthood holder, who gives her the attention she wants (and deserves)... I'm not that person anymore, and every area in which I fall short of her desires and expectations is a point of conflict.

I hope and believe that we can be better friends than we are spouses, anymore. Of course, we'll always be something more than friends. We have children together, and those children are important to both of us, and will continue to bind us and make our relationship unique. But I hope that, without marriage getting in the way, we can build a relationship that both of us can be happy with.

I expect that it will take us a while to define that relationship. Sarah commented last night, before bed, that I hug my friends more than I hug her. I'm ashamed to admit that she's right. It's fear that holds me back... I'm afraid to give her reasons to believe and hope that I'll change my mind. I'm afraid that physical affection will convince her that I might still be able to be satisfied with what she can give me. I hope that we can find a way to resolve that fear. I hope that removing marriage from the equation will help with that.

I love Sarah, more than anyone else in the world (even if she doesn't believe that anymore). I want so badly for her to be happy. For years (our entire relationship, really) I've done everything I could to help her be happy. At times (most of the time?) I've done a lousy job. Right now I'm doing the best I can do and I'm hurting her almost more than I can bear. I only hope that time will heal the wounds and that we can both find joy again.

Candles

2010-07-21T13:07:00.004-06:00

I didn't know Todd Ransom. But then again, I know and love dozens or even hundreds of Todd Ransoms, so it was an easy decision to forego my usual Tuesday night blues dance class to attend the candelight vigil held in his memory at the Utah State Capitol.

It was obvious that Todd was dearly loved by those who knew him. More touching to me, though, was the sense of community and caring that permeated the crowd. These people didn't just love Todd--they loved each other, and they loved me, even when they didn't know me.

The glow of candles flickering in the breeze was beautiful. Each person there had his or her own light, sometimes shining brightly and sometimes guttering and fading as the winds grew stronger. Some had cups or simply cupped hands to protect their flames from the buffeting wind. Even so, sometimes the wind overwhelmed the flame and the fire died, leaving only the weakly glowing embers that clung to the wick...

I watched more than one candle die, and I watched what happened next:

In many cases the person holding the dead or dying light would turn to a friend whose light still burned brightly. He would borrow his friend's flame and use it to relight his own.

Once or twice, though, it appeared that the person whose light had just gone out was alone, without a friend to turn to. He would cast his eyes around, anxious for someone (anyone) to notice his plight and offer assistance--but too shy or awkward or afraid to reach out and ask for the help he needed.

... That's when he learned that he wasn't alone. In every case (that I saw), those surrounding him--the members of his community--recognized his need and reached out their candles or their lighters and rekindled his light so that it burned brightly once again.

It struck me, as those who knew Todd and were close to him spoke of his life and his love, that he wasn't who I had believed him to be. When I first heard of his suicide I assumed that he was another conflicted gay Mormon, unable to reconcile his faith and his sexuality, and therefore unable to accept himself as he was. And perhaps there's some truth to that characterization.

But the Todd that people spoke of seemed not to be that conflicted MoHo. He had dated and been in a committed relationship, and he hadn't allowed the tenets of his childhood religion to control his decisions and actions. If I had known the Todd that was described in eulogies last night I would have seen him as someone who had accepted himself and who had the strength to live as himself.

Some of the candles, too, seemed wind-proof with their cups and heavy wicks and ample supply of wax for fuel. But even those candles occasionally died, when the wind grew too strong and overwhelmed their resources.

I didn't know Todd Ransom. Could I have made a difference if I had? Could I have offered him my light when his went out? I don't know, and can't know.

But I can make a difference for every other Todd Ransom I know. And we can make a difference, as a community, by keeping our candles lit, and by freely sharing that heat and light when we see someone whose flame is flickering, ready to die. Todd's suicide was tragic; but it can have meaning, if it brings us closer together and makes us more aware of hidden pain and conflict and encourages us to reach out in love and support--just as we did last night.

Our community of candles burns bright.

Desire

2010-07-20T11:43:00.002-06:00

Beck recently wrote a post (and some follow-up comments) in which he considers the conflict between his beliefs (as to what is right, or at least what actions contribute best to the goals he has set) and his desires. In his case, specifically, he desires to enjoy PG-13 images of attractive men, and to meet and enjoy the company of other MoHos, but he believes that doing so would harm his relationship with his wife, and he has determined that that relationship takes the highest priority in his life.

In thinking about his dilemma, I realized that he's actually experiencing a conflict between two desires (one for the instant gratification that images of hot guys would give him, and one for the satisfaction that he hopes to receive from his emotional relationship with his wife).

In a sense, any conflict we experience is of this sort--a conflict between wanting one thing and wanting something else that (we believe) will be harder to obtain if the first desire is fulfilled.

I've been thinking quite a lot about my own desires lately, and it was interesting to take a look at them from this perspective.

Most of my life has been an active effort to suppress my desires, believing that it was necessary for me to do so in order to obtain what I wanted (or believed I wanted)--"eternal life".

I'm not just talking about the gay thing, either.

I was always a very good boy--the type that Mormon mothers wanted their daughters to date and marry. I was clean-cut and well-groomed, always polite and courteous, and always willing to help someone in need.

Some of that came naturally to me, but that clean-cut image that I portrayed was not who I really wanted to be.

I've always been attracted to ear and body piercings, and tattoos, and crazy hairstyles and "rebellious" forms of dress. When I allowed myself to, I would fantasize about getting earrings of my own, or some ink. I imagined myself in ripped jeans and tight t-shirts that showed off the tanned and ripped physique (that I wished I had).

Occasionally this inner rebel would assert himself, just a little bit, and I'd get highlights in my hair (once I even went entirely blonde) and spike it up a little bit. But that's the furthest I ever went, despite the constant feeling that clean-cut just wasn't me.

There were other desires that I suppressed, as well. Coffee had such an enticing aroma, and to me there was an air of sophistication surrounding the culture of coffee drinkers that I longed for. I wanted to learn about wines and cocktails and experience the different tastes of liquors and the feelings that go with drinking them.

But I also wanted to see my family again after I died, and I trusted those who told me that succumbing to these desires would be an obstacle on that path, and so for the longest time I put considerable effort into being who I believed I should be rather than who I felt I was (and here I include the gay thing, as well). The Mormon perspective says that "who I felt I was" is the "natural man" (an enemy to God), and that I need to resist those desires to remain in God's good graces. I accepted that, and lived accordingly.

Recently, of course, my views have changed on many things, and I no longer believe that God disapproves of gay relationships. I still believe it would be grand to spend eternity in the company of my family, but I'm no longer certain that I want the sort of relationship with them that the church tells me I could have (that is, I would much prefer to be eternally best friends with Sarah than eternaly married to her--and I hope she doesn't find it too hurtful for me to be so blunt about it). I want to find someone who I can love entirely and completely, and I hope and believe that I might spend forever with him once I've found him.

I've struggled a bit more with some of my other desires, though...

Coffee wasn't too great a struggle... Once I stopped believing that God disapproved of my drinking it I was quite willing to give it a try, and discovered I liked it. I'll now start most mornings with a latte or mocha.

Alcohol was a bigger issue, largely because it figures higher in cultural Mormonism's hierarchy of sins (which goes something like: murder -> homosexual relations -> adultery -$gt; drugs, tobbacco and alcohol -> coffee and tea). In hindsight, I find it interesting that I was willing to consider sex with a man before I was willing to consider a taste of alcohol, but I'm fairly certain that I'm not all that unusual in that regard among gay Mormons.

In the end, I saw my aversion to alcohol as nothing more than cultural programming, and so (to the dismay of my wife, parents, and other close relations) I allowed myself to succumb to the desire to drink. I did so with my usual deliberate manner--buying a breath blood-alcohol tester to keep in the car and being extremely careful about how much I drink (I'm not sure I've yet been "drunk", never having felt more than a slight buzz from my imbibing). I've found that I enjoy the taste of various liquors, though I still haven't found a beer that is more than tolerable, and I expect I'll never again be a teetotaler (though a friend insists that my drinking is just a phase that I'll eventually outgrow).

As for my other desires... My ears are still unadorned and my skin still un-inked. I do tend to dress a bit less "proper" than I once did, and I've experimented a bit with different hair styles and colors. I no longer have any aversion to piercings or tattoos, and will probably sport both at some point in the future (perhaps after I've managed that tanned and ripped body as an adequate backdrop for the decoration).

I'm no longer the good boy that Mormon mothers want their daughters to marry. And I've wondered, off and on, if I'm doing wrong in allowing myself to submit to these desires that I fought for so long. Have I given in to the "natural man"? Am I now an enemy to God? The Mormon perspective might say that I am.

But I'm still polite and courteous, and willing to help those in need. I still try to be a good friend, and to put others' needs on a level with my own. I believe I'm still a good person, despite the coffee and alcohol and ever-changing hairstyle and any possible future ink or earrings.

In fact, if a person is willing to look past the "outward appearance" and "that which goeth into [my] mouth", I'm trying to be as Christlike as I can be. Any negative consequences (such as a strain in my relationships with my family) that I've seen from my choices has come not as a direct result of those choices, but rather from others' beliefs that those choices are wrong. Because they believe drinking is a sin, I am now seen as a sinner, and that perception will automatically color their view of me so that, in their eyes, I'm not as "good" as I once was. No matter how good and kind and courteous and helpful I try to be, the person I've become will never be as good as the person I once was, in their eyes.

This makes me sad, but at the same time I feel more comfortable with myself than I've ever been. I've realized (or chosen to believe) that not all desires are wrong, and not all conflicted desires need be so.

Pro and Con

2010-06-23T15:14:00.001-06:00

The church recently issued a statement (most likely in response to the execution of Ronnie Gardner in Utah) declaring that "so-called 'blood atonement', by which individuals would be required to shed their own blood to pay for their sins, is not a doctrine of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints".

The comments on the article on the Deseret News website highlighted what I have come to realize is one of the greatest strengths of the church (as an organization) and simultaneously one of the greatest weaknesses of the church (as a people).

The idea behind "Blood Atonement", as Brigham Young taught it, was this:

There are sins that men commit for which they cannot receive forgiveness in this world, or in that which is to come, and if they had their eyes open to see their true condition, they would be perfectly willing to have their blood spilt upon the ground, that the smoke thereof might ascend to heaven as an offering for their sins; and the smoking incense would atone for their sins, whereas, if such is not the case, they will stick to them and remain upon them in the spirit world. I know, when you hear my brethren telling about cutting people off from the earth, that you consider it is strong doctrine; but it is to save them, not to destroy them." (September 21, 1856; Journal of Discourses 4:53)

According to the official statement from the church, there is no doctrinal truth to Brigham Young's statement. The church explains his views by saying that "In the mid-19th century ... rhetorical, emotional oratory was common" and that "some church members and leaders used strong language that included notions of people making restitution for their sins by giving up their own lives." In other words, Brigham Young's statements were the product of the culture in which he lived, and were merely his own opinions (though a reading of church history makes it clear that these opinions were shared by the majority of his contemporaries).

The comments in the Deseret News article are quick to make the same assertion. The Journal of Discourses does not contain official doctrine. Those leaders were only giving their opinions, not making official statements of what we as a church believe.

Here's the issue:

Members of the church in Brigham Young's day believed that his statements were doctrinal. There are stories of members of the church willingly delivering themselves to their leaders to be executed, believing that doing so was the only way they could pay for some grievous sin. There are likewise stories of actual executions being justified by leaders of the church by the "doctrine" of Blood Atonement.

The strength of the church is that it is a living, evolving thing, and its leaders are allowed to make clarifications and provide explanations that nullify beliefs that were once considered "doctrinal".

The weakness of the church is that these changes and evolutions make it virtually impossible to know what truly is doctrine and what is not.

This is manifest in the attitudes of the church's members, who vehemently sustain and promote the "doctrine du jour" while just as vehemently disclaiming the "doctrine" of a few decades ago as nothing more than the opinions of some outspoken leaders.

More examples:

It was once freely taught in the church that blacks could not have the priesthood because they bore the "mark of Cain". Their spirits (it was explained) had been less valiant in the pre-existence, and so they were placed in bodies with darkened skin in which they would have less opportunity and fewer blessings--in which they would be denied the priesthood, and the temple endowment and sealing. Any member in the early twentieth century would have vehemently supported this "doctrine" as the reason for denying the priesthood to blacks.

In 1978, it was "revealed" that blacks could have the priesthood after all, and Bruce R. McConkie famously told the saints to "Forget everything that I have said, or what President Brigham Young or President George Q. Cannon or whomsoever has said in days past that is contrary to the present revelation. We spoke with a limited understanding and without the light and knowledge that now has come into the world. ... It doesn't make a particle of difference what anybody ever said about the Negro matter before the first day of June of this year, 1978. ... As to any slivers of light or any particles of darkness of the past, we forget about them." (All are Alike Unto God, a speech given at the CES Religious Educators Symposium on 18 August, 1978)

In other words, I was only giving my opinion when I said that blacks bore the mark of Cain, or that they were less faithful in the preexistence. Even though we believed that those views were doctrinal, they weren't, and the actual doctrine is that blacks are equal in the eyes of God, and as worthy of the priesthood as anyone else.

Further back, late nineteenth-century members of the church fervently believed that plural marriage was not only acceptable, but that it was in fact a requirement for exaltation. This belief was taught from the pulpit by church leaders, who decried monogamy and pinned the downfall of the Roman Empire on a belief that men should only have one wife (because men are incapable of having only a single sexual partner, and so monogamy necessarily leads to adultery, which sin led to the fall of the Empire).

After the Manifesto was issued, this "doctrine" was revised, and a new interpretation of D&C 132 was adopted, in which men could have multiple wives in the Celestial Kingdom--but they could still make it there with only one. Over the decades, the reluctant abandonment of polygamy has transformed into a fervent desire to distance ourselves entirely from the practice (to the point where members of the church, during the Prop 8 campaign in California, would cite legalized polygamy as one of the possible tragic ends on the "slippery slope" that legalized gay marriage would put us on). Of course, the notion that men would be required to have more than one wife in order to be exalted was nothing more than the opinion of those who promoted it (never mind that the idea was taught freely over the pulpit by late nineteenth-century prophets, seers, and revelators).

Ask nearly any faithful member today about Blood Atonement or the mark of Cain or plural marriage as the key to exaltation and you're almost certain to hear a fervent denial that any of these ideas was ever doctrinal. Our leaders are human, and not infallible, and they can and do speak their own views and opinions, which should not be mistaken for the official position of the church.

Then ask the same member whether it's possible that the church's current position on homosexuality might be a product of our culture, and based on the opinions of our leaders, and not on revealed truth. The response will be shock and dismay that you could even suggest that our leaders are not inspired, or that they would promote ideas that weren't endorsed by God. You might be accused of "not sustaining the prophet", and face scorn and ostracism.

Greatest strength ... greatest weakness.

I've come to believe that there is very little in the church's teachings that is actually doctrinal (if we define "doctrine" as God's unchanging truth). We are to love God and to love our neighbors as ourselves, and when we fail to do so, we can rely on God's mercy and Christ's Atonement to absolve us of our errors, so long as we are putting forth our best effort.

Everything else is ancillary--an appendage to the doctrine that may be changed or abandoned at a moment's notice as we get closer to understanding God's will. The words of our leaders are, by a significant margin, nothing more than the attempts of men to teach what they believe to be true and in accordance with God's will--but they lack the direct support of phophetic revelation, unless they are specifically tagged with an assertion that they are, in fact, inspired (and perhaps even then, as there are "Thus saith the Lord" statements from early leaders that have been abandoned in modern times).

Love God. Love your neighbor. Try to do better at both today than you did yesterday, and rely on God's mercy and forgiveness to compensate for your shortcomings. Pursue true and lasting happiness ("Men are that they might have joy") in the manner that seems best suited to who you are, always striving to know God's will, and worry less about the jots and tittles and policies and rules that His servants have (in good faith, to be sure) put in place. A personal relationship with God and His Spirit will get you further, and with more joy in the journey, than a dogged adherance to "doctrines" that will someday be seen as anything but.

"Viewpoints" Series: VI. Homosexuality & Conclusion

2010-06-02T17:30:00.000-06:00

Today I'm going to talk about homosexuality... I've already addressed this topic, quite frequently and in significant detail, in previous posts. But I thought it would be good to include it as part of this series, since it covers a significantly changed set of my own beliefs...

NOTE: This post is one of a series that will provide an overview of my current position, beliefs, plans and intentions. Each post will focus on a specific topic. As with the majority of my blog posts, the posts in this series were written mostly for me--as a way of organizing my thoughts and firmly establishing within my own mind where I stand. I share them publicly because I am arrogant enough to believe that others might be interested, and that perhaps what I have to say might even help someone else to figure out where they stand themselves (whether or not they actually agree with me). I don't post for approval or criticism, though as always I welcome feedback in whatever form it may take.

I fully expect that a lot of what I write in these posts will be met with criticism and even outright hostility. I fully expect to disappoint many of my friends and family with what I will reveal. I expect that some will contend that all of the decisions and struggles and thought processes I outline are suspiciously "convenient" since they've allowed me some freedom to make choices that they will see as mere gratification of worldly desires. I don't intend to justify myself to anyone or to defend my choices, but I'm happy to answer questions and address concerns when asked.

Because I've discussed it before, I can probably be brief in summarizing my views: I believe that God blesses loving relationships, regardless of the genders of the people in them. I don't believe that gay sex is inherently any more "wrong" than straight sex, but that it can be "right" or "wrong" depending on factors such as consent, motivation, etc.

And that's it, really... This could be one of my shortest posts ever.

Except that I'd like to also discuss how this changed view has impacted me...

If gay sex isn't inherently wrong, and gay relationships aren't wrong... A lot of the reasons I might have once had for remaining exclusively committed to my marriage to Sarah had evaporated.

All that was left were: (1) I still love her and care about her and don't wish to hurt her, (2) I had made a commitment to her, 15 years ago, and (3) I want to do what is best for the kids.

As far as love goes, I didn't see any reason (even from the beginning) why falling in love with a man would need to mean that I loved Sarah any less. It would be a different kind of love, but I've never believed that love was a finite resource, and that loving one person more necessarily meant loving everyone else in your life less.

There was still the fact that any pursuit of a gay relationship would hurt her, and I struggled with that knowledge for many months. In fact, I still struggle with it on a daily basis, because I'm still extremely reticent to do anything that will cause her pain. What I ultimately realized, though, was that by giving up my own wants and needs or making them subservient to hers, I was placing myself in a situation in which I was fundamentally unhappy and therefore unable to fully meet the needs of my family. I've come to realize or believe that my own happiness is as important as that of other people, because I only have the emotional wherewithal to serve others when my own needs are being met at at least the most basic level.

So even though it hurts me to know that I'm hurting Sarah, I've come to believe that ultimately I can be a better friend (and possibly even a better partner) to her if I'm taking steps to ensure my own happiness.

Doing what's best for the kids involves similar principles, I think. My patience with them is longer and my ability to be a good father greater when I am happy and content.

Coming to that realization didn't necessarily make my decision any easier, but it did at least clarify things sufficiently that I was able to make a decision.

Except... Hadn't I committed to Sarah fifteen years ago that I would remain with her, and remain exclusively committed to her?

I think that that, more than anything, has been an issue for people who are aware of our situation and its recent evolutions. Anything other than complete devotion to her is a violation of a promise that I made to remain with her forever.

I won't be able to convince those who feel that way to think any differently, I'm sure. But in my own mind, here's the thought process:

That commitment was made without a complete understanding of the terms. I was a straight boy who believed the promises that had been made (by implication, if nothing else) that marriage to a woman was my only option.

Coming to terms with being gay fundamentally changed the terms of the contract. I am not the person who married Sarah fifteen years ago. In reality, that person never even existed, though we both believed for thirteen years that he did.

If I had intentionally misrepresented myself to Sarah when we got married, and pretended to her to be someone I wasn't so that she would marry me, nearly anyone would agree that she would have the right to terminate our marriage when the deception was revealed.

Most would even agree that she still has that right, even though the deception was not intentional.

But I was as deceived as she was. It's true that I was the one doing the deceiving, but that doesn't change the fact that I believed as sincerely as she did that I was straight. If we were both fooled, doesn't either of us have the right to question that original commitment?

That's the thought process. And even though I've been through all of that, and firmly believe that it would be either of our rights to end the marriage based entirely on the fact that it's not what we believed it to be, I still have no intention of completely abandoning my responsibilities or commitments.

As I indicated in yesterday's post, my understanding of relationships has changed, and that makes a difference here. I can continue to love Sarah, and we can continue to remain best friends, and I can continue to do my best to see to her needs--physical, emotional, or whatever--but I don't necessarily need to do so as her husband, and whether or not we remain husband and wife, I don't necessarily need to make my relationship with her the only relationship I enjoy in this life.

And I don't intend to. Right or wrong, the decision has been made and I intend to discover whatever happiness I can in a relationship with a man who I can love and be loved by.

My post a few weeks ago on Sarah's private blog outlined some possible paths that would lead to such a relationship. They ranged from an "open marriage" to separation to divorce, and those who have access to her private blog (or who requested a copy of the post via email) were certainly not shy in weighing in with their own views of what the "right" choice would be. I appreciate the input and the concern that motivated it.

At the moment, we have no definite plans for the future, but we have made some changes in the present.

We're still married. We still live together and share a bed and raise our children together and even go out on "dates" every once in a while.

But I've also started dating guys. I've been out a few times with friends and enjoyed the experience very much.

Sarah isn't completely happy with this, of course, but I'm fairly certain she's not entirely opposed, either. (No doubt she'll correct me in the comments if I'm wrong). At least, she does want me to be happy and is trying to accept the current situation if it's what I truly believe will help me find that happiness.

For the foreseeable future, I don't anticipate that we'll do much differently than what we're currently doing. Eventually we might decide to make further changes. The development of a serious relationship with long-term potential would certainly be a reason to consider our options carefully.

It's been hard, deliberately doing something that I know Sarah is not entirely comfortable with and would rather wasn't happening. And of course there's been no shortage of criticism and expressed disappointment from friends and family who are aware of the situation. I don't mind, much. The more support Sarah gets the better, in my opinion.

I am extremely grateful for the few friends who have declared their unwavering support for both of us, and who have let us know that no matter what our future holds they will love us both.

And as painful as things might be right now, I firmly believe that the future holds a great deal of happiness for both of us. Hopefully we can get there as easily and comfortably as possible.

"Viewpoints" Series: V. Relationships

2010-06-01T17:30:00.000-06:00

Today's topic: relationships, both earthly and eternal...

NOTE: This post is one of a series that will provide an overview of my current position, beliefs, plans and intentions. Each post will focus on a specific topic. As with the majority of my blog posts, the posts in this series were written mostly for me--as a way of organizing my thoughts and firmly establishing within my own mind where I stand. I share them publicly because I am arrogant enough to believe that others might be interested, and that perhaps what I have to say might even help someone else to figure out where they stand themselves (whether or not they actually agree with me). I don't post for approval or criticism, though as always I welcome feedback in whatever form it may take.

I fully expect that a lot of what I write in these posts will be met with criticism and even outright hostility. I fully expect to disappoint many of my friends and family with what I will reveal. I expect that some will contend that all of the decisions and struggles and thought processes I outline are suspiciously "convenient" since they've allowed me some freedom to make choices that they will see as mere gratification of worldly desires. I don't intend to justify myself to anyone or to defend my choices, but I'm happy to answer questions and address concerns when asked.

To put it bluntly, the church's current understanding of the eternal nature of familial relationships doesn't work.

It only allows for a single ideal and results in a homogenized heaven in which every man is married to one or more women (which presupposes that a lot more women than men are going to make it) so that they can bear an infinite number of spirit children to populate an infinite number of worlds.

But which man will each woman be married to?

Joseph Smith had thirty-something wives by the time he died. He was sealed to all of them. Some of them were married (legally) to someone else, before they were sealed to Joseph (and still married to their original husbands after Joseph died).

... But they were sealed to Joseph. According to LDS doctrine, they'll be his in the Celestial Kingdom. Kind of sucks for the original husband, eh?

My mom and dad were sealed in the temple. They were together about 24 years before my mom died. Five years later my dad remarried. My stepmom was married to her first husband in the temple, and they were together for nearly twenty years before he died.

My dad and stepmom have been married for eighteen years now. Almost as long as my stepmom was married to her first husband before he died. And in a few years, they'll have been married as long as my dad was married to my mom before she died. There's no reason to believe they won't each live another twenty years at least, which means it's conceivable that by the time one of them dies, they'll have been married to their second spouse for one-and-a-half to two times longer than they were to their first.

My dad and stepmom were married for "time"--they weren't sealed. According to LDS doctrine, they won't be related at all in the Celestial Kingdom. All of their years together here won't mean anything, and they'll be back with their original spouses (who they still love dearly, of course... but doesn't their love for each other count for something?)

A woman who loses her (sealed) husband at a young age, then remarries (without being sealed to her second husband, since the church doesn't practice polyandry) and has children (with her second husband) will, according to LDS doctrine, be sealed to her first husband in the Celestial Kingdom--and all of the children she had with her second husband will "belong" to the first one as well. The second husband basically gets screwed out of everything.

The church's current model works for simple, husband-wife relationships. But introduce any other element into the mix (death and remarriage, etc.) and it falls apart--unless we're willing to believe that life-long relationships and love and memories don't mean anything in the face of the rules and order of things as we understand them?

I don't buy it. This life is all about the relationships that we form, and I can't believe that God would impose such a rigid structure on something as disorganized and sometimes downright messy as human relationships.

If polygyny (one man, multiple wives) is legal in the hereafter, why not polyandry (one woman, multiple husbands)? And if a man can have multiple wives and each of those wives can have husbands other than the first...

The only thing standing in the way of such complex and intricate relationships here on earth are our petty emotions. Jealousy convinces us that we need one partner, and that we need him or her all to ourselves. If he or she has any sort of emotional relationship with someone else (our jealous minds whisper) then he will eventually decide that he loves that other person more, and he'll leave us, and we'll be alone. We can't have that, so we can't let him have anyone else.

What could we do without jealousy? We could love our partner, but acknowledge his or her autonomy and ability to love multiple people. He could find someone else he loved dearly, while still loving us, and we could do the same. Each of our partners might have someone besides us who they had feelings for, and they might act on those feelings and build those relationships and find what happiness they could in them, just as we found all the happiness we could in our own relationships.

With no expectation of exclusivity, there would be no need to be concerned about finding a single person to meet all of our needs, and no need to compromise on those needs in order to keep the one person we found who was "good enough". We could find someone we loved, and who loved us, and when that relationship didn't meet every one of our emotional or physical or intellectual needs, we might find someone else to fill the void.

I hope that we wouldn't confuse a lack of exclusivity with a lack of commitment. A meaningful relationship requires commitment, but commitment and exclusivity aren't the same thing. A person can be committed to both (or all three, or four) of his partners, and determined to do all he can to ensure that both of them are as happy as they can be.

And if these relationships could carry over into eternity? I can't imagine loving a single person enough that spending an entire eternity with them would not be at least a little bit monotonous at times. But if I loved two, or three, or four people deeply enough to want to spend forever with them... forever would never get boring.

Speaking of forever...

People change, and relationships change... But for some reason we expect commitments to remain the same. There are good reasons for this... A commitment doesn't mean anything if it can be abandoned at the slightest change in situation. But there are changes, and there are changes...

Is it possible that some changes are significant enough that a commitment can be considered "fulfilled", and a relationship considered "successfully concluded"? Can two people change enough that they can be perfectly justified in separating, and not considered failures for doing so?

I believe so. I've observed marriages that have been kept on the shelf long past their "best by" date. Husband and wife grow sour. Perhaps in some cases it's possible to remove the cruft and revitalize the relationship and save the marriage, but I've come to believe that in at least some cases it's better for husband and wife to say "we've had some good years together, thanks for the memories" and part as friends--rather than to remain married as enemies.

In a nutshell, I believe that God's plans for "human relationships" are far more versatile--and in at least some cases far less permanent--than we're taught in sunday school. I've come to believe that finding the friendships that deserve to be nurtured until they blossom into real relationships can be an exciting challenge, and that enjoying the relationships that we do find and form is one of the primary purposes of this life--and of eternity.

Tomorrow: homosexuality, and a conclusion to the series.

"Viewpoints" Series: IV. Law of Chastity

2010-05-31T17:30:00.000-06:00

Today's post is about the Law of Chastity or, more accurately, about sex and other forms of physical intimacy.

NOTE: This post is one of a series that will provide an overview of my current position, beliefs, plans and intentions. Each post will focus on a specific topic. As with the majority of my blog posts, the posts in this series were written mostly for me--as a way of organizing my thoughts and firmly establishing within my own mind where I stand. I share them publicly because I am arrogant enough to believe that others might be interested, and that perhaps what I have to say might even help someone else to figure out where they stand themselves (whether or not they actually agree with me). I don't post for approval or criticism, though as always I welcome feedback in whatever form it may take.

I fully expect that a lot of what I write in these posts will be met with criticism and even outright hostility. I fully expect to disappoint many of my friends and family with what I will reveal. I expect that some will contend that all of the decisions and struggles and thought processes I outline are suspiciously "convenient" since they've allowed me some freedom to make choices that they will see as mere gratification of worldly desires. I don't intend to justify myself to anyone or to defend my choices, but I'm happy to answer questions and address concerns when asked.

The Mormon understanding of sex goes something like:

God sent us to earth for bodies, and we need to make bodies for other spirits, so He gave us the ability to procreate. He wanted to make sure we'd do it, so He made us really want to do it [i.e. He made us horny]. Then He told us that we couldn't do it unless we were married.

In its most basic form, Mormon doctrine reduces sex to a purely procreative act. And that's all it was for a long time in the LDS belief system. Earlier prophets taught that non-procreative sex was at best unnecessary and at worst a distortion of the intended purpose of this gift God gave us.

Under that doctrine, the LDS "Law of Chastity" makes some sense. No sex except with your husband or wife. Because the best situation for a child is to have two parents who can love him and raise him, so if we only let married people have sex, then only married people will have babies, and all babies will be born to people who are best-equipped to raise them.

A few decades ago birth control was a no-no in the church. Again, it interfered with procreation, which is what sex was all about, so doing something (anything) that allowed for sex without even the possibility of conception was just... wrong.

That's changed, of course. Now the official policy is "It's between husband, wife, and God", and I'd bet that the majority of LDS couples of childbearing age have used some form of birth control at some point or another.

With the allowance of birth control came sex's second purpose: to unite husband and wife and strengthen the bond between them. This makes non-procreative sex (sex without any possibility of conception) okay, because it's still serving some purpose beyond the mere satisfaction of sensual lust.

And to a point, I'm okay with all of this so far. I'm absolutely opposed to bringing a baby into a situation where he'll be anything other than loved and well cared-for. An unwed woman having unprotected sex could very possibly conceive, and that child is going to be automatically disadvantaged when he's born with only one parent.

(NOTE: I do not believe that a single parent can't raise kids and even do a damn good job of it. My mom died when I was 13 and it was five years before my dad remarried and he did a phenomenal job of taking care of the four of us who were still at home during those five years. I think we all turned out just fine, and that together we provide ample evidence that single parents can do the job. I'm just saying that intentionally bringing a child into a single-parent situation (through carelessness or whatever) isn't fair to the kid, because even if the parent can do a swell job by him/herself, it's still going to be harder--on the parent and the kid--and it's a situation that's best avoided).

Anyway... Back to the point: I'm fine with the idea that the "powers of procreation" are sacred and should only be used when the parents are capable of providing an optimal environment for the child (though I might disagree that actual marriage is absolutely required to demonstrate that they are so capable--but that's probably a subject for a post a little later in the series...)

However...

That's the "powers of procreation" we're talking about. Not sex. Sex does have a power of its own, which has been recognized by the church--the power to strengthen emotional bonds, etc...

But why is the husband-wife relationship the only one that deserves that sort of support?

If we can take procreation out of the picture (and I'll grant that it's difficult to absolutely ensure that conception is impossible--as my own failed vasectomy and Sarah's subsequent pregnancy can attest to)... but if we can take procreation out of the picture... is it inherently "sinful" for two people who aren't married to strengthen their emotional relationship through physical intimacy?

In fact, unmarried couples do this all the time. They hold hands. They kiss. They give each other back-rubs and foot massages. They hug and dance and spoon and cuddle. And all of this is okay and even encouraged, because it helps them to strengthen their relationship and demonstrate their love for each other.

But penis-in-vagina physical intimacy? Nope. That's a sin, and a fairly dreadful one. It doesn't matter if he's wearing a condom or if she's on the pill or even if they're both eighty years old and see their fertile years as nothing but a distant memory. If they're not married, sex is off the table.

... Until a bishop, or a judge, or a county clerk, or their best friend who got a minister's licence off the internet, or anyone else who the government has said can perform a marriage ceremony, says the words "man and wife" and puts his signature on a marriage certificate. Suddenly sex is okay (and even encouraged). That government official has the power to turn one of the worst sins into something perfectly acceptable.

Is it just me, or does that seem a little odd? Is there any other situation in which we've given a civil servant the ability to turn a wrong into a right?

Doesn't this make more sense:

It's procreation that's the issue here, and it's procreation that's a no-no before marriage (or before the couple has declared their intentions to remain together and form a family and create an environment in which they can raise children--which is at least one aspect of what marriage is about, right?)

Sex itself is a gift. It's a beautiful thing, and it was given to us for our own enjoyment and for the ability it gives us to give enjoyment to others. As a gift from God it should not be treated casually or with disdain, but neither should we bury it or hide it under a bushel...

Sex can bring two people closer together, and those two people don't need to be married. They only need to have an existing emotional bond that can be strengthened when they share their bodies with each other.

As an added benefit, by allowing unmarried couples to experience the emotional bonding and closeness of physical intimacy, we also allow them to discover how suited they are for each other in a physical sense. Waiting until marriage--until after a commitment has been made--assumes that sexual compatibility is a given. Countless relationships with unbalanced libidos and unmet expectations in the bedroom testify that this is not the case, and countless marriages have failed (at least in part) because of this mistaken assumption.

Of course, we're assuming that procreation can be eliminated as a possibility. And while I've noted that it's probably nearly impossible to completely rule conception out, it can be made so unlikely as to be virtually guaranteed never to happen. And in fact, for us gay people, procreation needn't be a concern at all.

I don't believe that sexual intimacy needs to be limited to husband-wife relations. And, as an extension of that, I don't believe that a husband and wife's physical relationship needs to be an exclusive one...

Obviously, there is an issue of expectations and consent. I don't believe a spouse should be dishonest or deceptive, and any physical relationship outside of a marriage should only be entered into with the consent of the other spouse. Then, too, there's the possible issue of balance and ensuring that the display of physical affection in one direction doesn't detract from the affection shown in the other (or that if it does, the partner who is receiving the lessened amount of affection is willing to accept the change).

But if one spouse consents, or is willing to make allowances, I don't believe that any moral or divine constraints should prevent the other spouse from enjoying physical intimacy with persons other than his or her spouse with whom he or she feels an emotional connection.

In the olden days, this happened all the time, except the new partner was called a "second [or later] wife" or "concubine" (and it never happened the other way, with additional husbands or husband-concubines). Again, the marriage made the additional relationship "legal", but in my opinion that's nothing more than a technicality, and God doesn't get hung up on the legal loopholes.

He gave us our bodies and the ability to take pleasure from them (and give pleasure with them) for a reason, and that reason is not strictly limited to the strengthening of a single marriage relationship. We should be grateful for the gift we've been given. We should use it wisely, but we should still use it.

"Viewpoints" Series: III. Word of Wisdom

2010-05-30T17:30:00.001-06:00

Today I'll discuss the Word of Wisdom, including my understanding of its origins and evolution as well as how I currently apply it to my own life.

NOTE: This post is one of a series that will provide an overview of my current position, beliefs, plans and intentions. Each post will focus on a specific topic. As with the majority of my blog posts, the posts in this series were written mostly for me--as a way of organizing my thoughts and firmly establishing within my own mind where I stand. I share them publicly because I am arrogant enough to believe that others might be interested, and that perhaps what I have to say might even help someone else to figure out where they stand themselves (whether or not they actually agree with me). I don't post for approval or criticism, though as always I welcome feedback in whatever form it may take.

I fully expect that a lot of what I write in these posts will be met with criticism and even outright hostility. I fully expect to disappoint many of my friends and family with what I will reveal. I expect that some will contend that all of the decisions and struggles and thought processes I outline are suspiciously "convenient" since they've allowed me some freedom to make choices that they will see as mere gratification of worldly desires. I don't intend to justify myself to anyone or to defend my choices, but I'm happy to answer questions and address concerns when asked.

According to the historical record and anecdotal information, the Word of Wisdom was "received" when Joseph Smith went to God at Emma's request to inquire about the use of specific substances. She was tired of cleaning up after the men who liked to chew (and spit) tobacco in their regular meetings in her home. And at the same time there were various temperance movements gaining popularity around the country (including in Kirtland, where the church was headquartered at the time), which encouraged abstinence from alcohol.

So Joseph "inquired" of God and received "a principle with promise" outlining several principles intended to promote physical and mental health. Among its injunctions: Avoid tobacco, hard liquor, and "hot drinks"; eat meat sparingly; eat fruits, vegetables and grains.

Joseph himself understood that the "revelation" was not intended to be "by commandment or constraint". Until the day he was killed he regularly drank alcohol and was occasionally seen enjoying a cigar. He even kept a fully-stocked bar in his home in Nauvoo until Emma's convinced him to remove it.

For many years after Joseph's death, too, members of the church (including its top leaders) saw the Word of Wisdom as exactly that--wise advice for healthy living, but certainly not a commandment.

It was years after the Saints had arrived in the Salt Lake valley, as Brigham Young (who was both spiritual and civic leader) observed that the local economy was suffering from the amount of money being spent on imported tobacco, alcohol, tea and coffee. The Saints were encouraged to grow or produce these things locally, where possible (and to buy from local growers and manufacturers), but when demand continually outpaced supply they were encouraged with increasing frequency to avoid these substances altogether.

Eventually, over time, the perception became that the Word of Wisdom was indeed a commandment. Its observation was made a prerequisite for temple attendance (or at least the avoidance part--I've never heard of someone being denied a recommend because they ate too much meat). Today, overzealous members press for avoidance of all caffeine-containing substances, and I've even heard some recommend that we avoid hot chocolate (as a "hot drink") or any variety of chocolate (for its caffeine content) if we want to be strict observers of this "law of health".

As scientific discovery has discovered and confirmed some of the harmful effects of some of the substances prohibited by the Word of Wisdom, many members have felt vindicated. "See!", they say, "God knew long before we did that tobacco was bad for us, and he revealed it to the early Saints."

Of course, these same members close their eyes to studies that show the antioxidant benefits of a daily glass of wine, or of green and black teas, or to studies that demonstrate possible cancer-fighting benefits to daily coffee consumption. Or if they do pay them any mind, it's only to mutter something about "when men are learned they think they are wise", and to insist that God still knows best.

But what if the Word of Wisdom wasn't God's idea in the first place? What if Joseph succumbed to Emma's nagging and took some of the more popular health-related diet recommendations of the day, and cobbled them together into a "principle of promise" for the Saints?

It's my belief that that's exactly how it happened, and that God isn't quite so concerned about at least some of the substances mentioned in the Word of Wisdom as most Mormons believe Him to be.

Obviously, there's enough evidence linking tobacco use with various cancers that common sense tells us that we should not smoke or chew tobacco.

Similarly, the risk of cirrhosis or other long-term complications, plus the dangers that drunkenness can introduce in the short-term, caution us against excessive consumption of alcohol.

And excessive use of stimulants (caffeine or otherwise) carries with it possible health risks and, at the very least, the near certainty of uncomfortable withdrawal symptoms when those stimulants are withheld from the body for a period of time.

But, as I mentioned, studies have also shown health benefits from moderate use of tea, coffee, and even alcohol. Drinking any of these responsibly carries little to no risk and provides documented health benefits.

I've always loved the smell of coffee, and the taste of coffee-flavored candies. So when I had examined the Word of Wisdom and decided that I did not believe that God cared whether or not I drank coffee, I began sampling various coffee drinks (lattes, cappuccinos, mochas, etc.) and discovered that I liked them very much. I'm now a regular coffee drinker.

Similarly, I've discovered a taste for green tea and various black teas. A nice steaming cup of black tea seasoned with lemongrass and peppermint did wonders for my throat and sinuses just a couple of days ago when I was coming down with a cold, and I've gotten similar benefit (and enjoyed the taste of) a nice chai tea or irish breakfast tea as well.

And finally, I don't see anything wrong with careful and responsible consumption of alcohol. I've seen people drunk, and I don't wish to ever lose control of myself in that way. But I've also seen people drink responsibly, enjoying a couple of drinks in a social situation. I sampled a couple of sips of a friend's drink and enjoyed the taste. I didn't notice any physical effect. I don't have any issue with having a drink now and then when I'm in a situation in which I can safely and responsibly do so.

I don't expect that I'll ever try a cigarette or chew a plug of tobacco. I have no interest in such.

And of course, I'll continue to try to use common sense and moderation in my daily diet, eating healthy fruits and vegetables as much as possible, and limiting meats (and eating leaner, healthier meats in general).

I'll do these things not because I believe that God specifically commanded them, but because I believe that my body is a gift, and that I should take care of it the best I can.

Tomorrow: The Law of Chastity.

"Viewpoints" Series: II. Spiritual Destination

2010-05-29T17:30:00.000-06:00

Today: Where have I ended up, spiritually or religiously speaking?

Of course, "ended up" isn't really the right phrase to use, since I fully expect my views and beliefs will continue to evolve and change in the future. This post, then, will just be a snapshot of where I currently am.

NOTE: This post is one of a series that will provide an overview of my current position, beliefs, plans and intentions. Each post will focus on a specific topic. As with the majority of my blog posts, the posts in this series were written mostly for me--as a way of organizing my thoughts and firmly establishing within my own mind where I stand. I share them publicly because I am arrogant enough to believe that others might be interested, and that perhaps what I have to say might even help someone else to figure out where they stand themselves (whether or not they actually agree with me). I don't post for approval or criticism, though as always I welcome feedback in whatever form it may take.

I fully expect that a lot of what I write in these posts will be met with criticism and even outright hostility. I fully expect to disappoint many of my friends and family with what I will reveal. I expect that some will contend that all of the decisions and struggles and thought processes I outline are suspiciously "convenient" since they've allowed me some freedom to make choices that they will see as mere gratification of worldly desires. I don't intend to justify myself to anyone or to defend my choices, but I'm happy to answer questions and address concerns when asked.

Up to this point I have never fully shared my changed point of view with anyone. I've kept these things to myself, knowing that friends and family would have a hard time understanding my attempts to explain, and that many will be saddened or disappointed by my "loss of faith". Even Sarah probably doesn't fully understand the extent to which my beliefs have changed. I hope that the revelations in this post won't be too terribly surprising or shocking to her.

To begin at the most basic level: I believe in God. I'm not entirely clear on what form that belief takes, or rather, on what form God takes within my belief in Him (or it?). But I do believe in a being or force mightier than us that includes love and compassion among its attributes.

As I hinted yesterday, I don't believe in Satan. That is, I don't believe that there is a being or force or anything of the sort that exists purely to tempt us to do wrong, or to act in ways that are counter to God's will. I believe that human nature--a desire for wealth, fame, power, youth, beauty, etc.--is more than sufficient to explain the evil that is in the world.

That said, I also believe that human nature--a desire to love and lift and help and heal--is sufficient to counter that evil to a significant degree.

Now, on to the evolution of my views of the church itself...

As I explored the discrepancy between statements from church leaders on homosexuality and what I knew to be true (based on my own spiritual experience) I eventually realized (or came to believe or understand) that church leaders could speak authoritatively over the pulpit on a subject, and yet be speaking entirely from their own understanding and perspective, with non inspiration or revelation to support what they were saying.

Naturally, it occurred to me that this phenomenon would likely not be limited to statements on homosexuality, and I began to examine other "doctrines" of the church, determined to decide for myself whether they were inspired or not.

The conclusions I reached on several key policies or principles will be shared in subsequent posts in this series, but in general, I came to believe that there was a lot more of man (and therefore a lot less of God) in the teachings of the church than I could ever have allowed for a couple of years ago.

In general, I do believe in "inspiration", and that the leaders of the church (who are all good men with good intentions making every effort to do God's will) are in fact "inspired" in much of what they teach.

In particular, I believe that Joseph Smith was blessed with a sort of religious or spiritual "genius" that allowed him to introduce (or "restore", if you prefer) many concepts and ideas about God that were evolutionary or even revolutionary for their time. The church that he organized was unique, and in many ways its organization and doctrines were inspired.

That said, I believe there's a lot of myth in the church's origins as well. Although I believe that the Book of Mormon contains many inspired principles and truths and that reading it can bring a person closer to God and increase his appreciation for the Savior and his understanding of the Atonement, I don't believe that it's a literal record of a people who lived in the Americas two thousand years ago, delivered on plates of gold by an angel and accurately translated into English by use of seerstones or urim and thummim or any other means.

I believe that the practice of plural marriage was introduced not because God commanded it, but because a young prophet with many devoted followers had a great appreciation for beautiful young women.

I believe that blacks were denied the priesthood for decades because a different prophet, with prejudiced opinions of black people, instituted a policy that tradition would strengthen and enforce for another hundred and twenty years.

I believe that a patriarchal tradition and a bit of misogyny were behind the church's active opposition to the ERA (and that the echoes of that tradition continue to this day).

I believe that yet another prophet with puritanical views of sexuality in general and an especial abhorrence of same-sex relations introduced an anti-gay policy that has only barely started to fade (and that has, even so, prompted the current active fight against full equality for gay citizens in the United States).

Mormon culture and traditions tend to be the driving force behind many of these policies, and especially behind their perpetuation, and Mormon culture makes change extremely difficult. This is why the church seems to be a decade or two behind the rest of society when it comes to the sweeping changes that are almost universally seen as good and right. Inspired policies would (it would seem) lead society in a better direction, and the fact that this doesn't often seem to be the case is supporting evidence for the idea that many of these policies are, ultimately, based on the philosophies of men.

Particular principles that I have come to see as either uninspired or only somewhat inspired (or perhaps only common sense) include the Word of Wisdom, the Law of Chastity, the church's teachings on eternal families, and the current policies on homosexuality. I'll examine each of these in separate posts over the next few days.

"Viewpoints" Series: I. Spiritual Progression

2010-05-28T17:30:00.001-06:00

NOTE: This post is one of a series that will provide an overview of my current position, beliefs, plans and intentions. Each post will focus on a specific topic. As with the majority of my blog posts, the posts in this series were written mostly for me--as a way of organizing my thoughts and firmly establishing within my own mind where I stand. I share them publicly because I am arrogant enough to believe that others might be interested, and that perhaps what I have to say might even help someone else to figure out where they stand themselves (whether or not they actually agree with me). I don't post for approval or criticism, though as always I welcome feedback in whatever form it may take.

I fully expect that a lot of what I write in these posts will be met with criticism and even outright hostility. I fully expect to disappoint many of my friends and family with what I will reveal. I expect that some will contend that all of the decisions and struggles and thought processes I outline are suspiciously "convenient" since they've allowed me some freedom to make choices that they will see as mere gratification of worldly desires. I don't intend to justify myself to anyone or to defend my choices, but I'm happy to answer questions and address concerns when asked.

First, an examination of my spiritual progression (or regression, as some might see it)...

Like most born-and-raised Mormons, my early testimony was a borrowed one. I believed what my parents believed, and what they told me I should believe. They told me that Heavenly Father existed and that Jesus died for me and that Joseph Smith talked to both of them and restored their church. And they told me all of these things in the same matter-of-fact way that they told me everything else about life, so I had no reason to doubt them.

Eventually I grew up and went on a mission. On our missions we talked about conversion, and about the fact that the most important conversion was our own. I read the Book of Mormon and I prayed and I knew that it was true, and I told my investigators so and carefully explained that if the BoM was true then everything else had to be. I had a very successful mission, from a baptismal standpoint.

I returned home and got married, and of course Sarah and I went to church faithfully and I continued to know that everything I had been raised to believe was true. I had various callings, mostly teaching and clerical when I was a young father, and then positions of a little more trust: executive secretary and elders' quorum president.

When I was EQP our stake had instituted a policy where the presiding authority was to close every meeting with his testimony. That meant that every Sunday I closed our quorum meeting by telling the other elders in the ward that I knew that God lived, that the church was true, etc.

If you had asked me two years ago to share my testimony I would have gladly done so, and I would have used the words "know" and "certain" a lot (and maybe even the phrases "beyond a shadow of a doubt" and "with every fiber of my being"... or maybe not... I was never fond of those phrases.)

If you had asked me a couple of years ago what spiritual experiences had contributed to my testimony?...

I would probably have hemmed and hawed a bit. I might have said something about good feelings, or used words like "calm" and "peaceful". But the truth is, up to that point I hadn't had any overwhelming "smacked-in-the-face-by-the-spirit" experiences.

In hindsight, if I'm honest, I'd be inclined to say that I was still borrowing my parents' testimonies at that point (or maybe my wife's?). Some of my readers might disagree, and say that I did know, and that I've lost my testimony because I didn't feed it (or something like that)... I think I'll address that thought in a minute.

Twenty-three months or so ago I got my spiritual smack-in-the-face.

It happened when I looked at all of the evidence that I had closed my eyes to all those years and took a deep breath (mentally, at least) and thought to myself, for the first time in my life: "I'm gay".

There was no pillar of light, and I didn't actually hear a voice, but I might as well have, because the message was unmistakeable: You are gay, and that's fine. I love you that way. You should love you that way too. There was even an amused undercurrent of I can't believe it took you so long to figure it out :) (yes, I felt the smiley-face emoticon).

There was nothing about the church, or the Book of Mormon, or Joseph Smith. In fact, I had just been told something that directly contradicted what some of the recent prophets and apostles had emphatically stated from the pulpit. It was crisis time.

I won't go into all the details of the next several months. I've done it before. Search through old posts or email me for more information if you want to know more. Suffice it to say that I came out the other end with a very changed understanding of the church, the gospel... and even, to some extent, of God.

Briefly, a discussion of the idea that a testimony that is not fed will whither and die... It's a common belief in Mormon ideology that we will lose our testimonies if we are not constantly reinforcing them. If, for example, I don't regularly pray to know that the Book of Mormon is true, I will gradually "forget" that it's true (as the memory of the spiritual confirmation I might have received begins to fade) until I reach the point where I no longer believe in it...

Is this truly the nature of faith? Does knowledge of a "truth" require constant reinforcement in order to be maintained?

I'm not sure that it does, or at least I'm not sure that it should. Something that is true remains so, no matter what--truth is eternal. If I know a truth, I will continue to know it. The only way that can change is if I am presented compelling evidence that it is not, in fact, a truth. When presented with such evidence, I will be forced to re-evaluate my "knowledge" of the truth to take the new information into account. Or, if I choose, I can reassert my "knowledge" of the truth, ignoring the evidence of its untruth... and thereby retain my "testimony".

If I say that I know that the Book of Mormon is true, and then I am presented with compelling evidence that suggests that it cannot be (archeological findings, perhaps), should I continue to maintain my "knowledge" in the face of the evidence, or should I re-evaluate?

The claim, of course, is that "evidence" of the untruth of things that are actually true comes from the devil in an attempt to trick us into abandoning our faith.

... But if the evidence keeps stacking up, and is physical and real... But perhaps an examination of my beliefs regarding "the adversary" is necessary for this line of reasoning to go any further.

Suffice it to say (for now) that I've come to believe that actual knowledge of actual truth cannot be so easily lost or shaken, and that a belief that requires constant reinforcement and reiteration in order to remain strong just might be a belief in something that is not, after all, actually true.

I ought to perhaps emphasize that coming out was the catalyst for this change, but it wasn't the driving force. If some other event or crisis had made me examine my faith more closely I believe the result would have been largely the same.

This change in belief is also nearly entirely unrelated to any dissatisfaction I might have with my local leaders and the members of my local ward and stake. My inactivity can probably be directly traced to that dissatisfaction--I might conceivably still be attending meetings (albeit with a significantly different perspective than I used to have) if I hadn't grown to feel uncomfortable at church as a direct result of my coming out. But whether or not I was still attending meetings, the critical examination of my beliefs would still have taken place, and I believe my viewpoint would still have evolved to something closely resembling its current state.

Tomorrow: what is that "current state"?

Rise and Shine

2010-05-19T15:03:00.000-06:00

Time for another answer to one of the questions in the skribit widget (on the left--feel free to add questions or suggestions of your own if there's anything you'd like me to blog about).

Today: What gets you up and going in the morning?

Short answer: Sarah. :)

That is, from a purely literal standpoint, Sarah is both the mechanism ("Wake up sweetie! It's 6:30!") and the motivation (I make a lunch for her every morning before she leaves for school) for my getting up and going every (weekday, at least) morning.

That's how it's been for at least a few years, at least during the school year (during the summer I sleep in a little bit, and wake myself up a little later, usually before Sarah gets up).

I'm not a morning person, really, so I stumble through the lunch assembly eyes only half-open and brain only half-working (which means I occasionally forget to pack something), but I enjoy the chance to do something nice for Sarah, and I know she appreciates the company and conversation (disjointed by sleepiness as it sometimes is) that my presence provides.

Once Sarah's gone to work there are kids to wake and get off to school, and before I know it it's time for me to leave for work myself.

That's the literal answer. Perhaps the author of the question might have been speaking more figuratively, though? As in: Don't I ever want to just stay in bed and sleep the day away? And if not, why not? What gets me going and keeps me going throughout the day?

I've mentioned in previous posts that I sometimes struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder, a form of depression that peaks in the darker winter months. When it's at its worst I do sometimes wish I could sleep the day away. What keeps me going on those days (and provides motivation the rest of the time as well, I'm sure) is the knowledge that my family depends on me in so many ways.

I need to go to work to earn an income and pay the bills. I need to run errands and buy groceries and prepare food so that we can eat healthy meals. I need to do chores around the house so that our home remains in good repair. If I failed in these tasks my family would suffer. (The same sense of responsibility that drives me to succeed in these areas has played a part in preventing me from abandoning my family for what seems in many ways to be an easier and more attractive life apart from them, and it motivates me to find a workable solution that takes their needs into account in whatever future path I choose).

Apart from all of that, I've always generally been a happy and optimistic person, and most days I look forward to whatever lies in store for me. I'd hate to miss whatever life has to offer as I lazed the day away in bed. Getting up and getting going puts me in place to earn experiences and live life.