Which is worse?

Today I've been thinking about which would be more difficult for my friends and family, the fact that I am gay, or if I left the church. They're so impossibly intertwined that I don't think it makes a fair question, but it's interesting to analyze the ins and outs of it.

Ultimately, the reasons it would be difficult for anyone to accept homosexuality are twofold: theological and cultural. I think that the cultural aspect is the root, and the more research I do, the more the theology seems to be a mere codification of the culture. But the theological aspect attaches with it the hopes of salvation. Hanging over all of our heads are the questions of how to be happy in this life, and what will happen to us in the next. Theology gives us something to grasp on to- an explanation for happiness and salvation both here and there. Culture, on the other hand, is the developed customs, norms, expectations, and obligations that people have for interaction with one another and utilize to make sense of social interaction. It makes sense to codify culture within the context of theology in order to add impetus and moral authority to social norms.

And so homosexuality, it seems to me, is in violation of first a culture, and secondly its theological codification. Now in LDS culture, the religion and culture are so unified that to leave one is to leave the other. (Note that I'm analyzing this exterior to the question of revelation and prophets)

So which aspect would be harder for friends and family? That I'm gay, or to leave the church? While being gay would be difficult, I think that leaving the church would be the hardest, because the church represents our culture- the way we interact with each other and understand our lives. To leave it would feel to them like a rejection of my relationships with them. A rejection of everything that binds us together. It symbolizes, to them, an abandonment of the possibility of happiness in this life and togetherness in the life to come. So it would be very difficult. Being gay just adds a little extra edge to it.

I'm definitely not saying I will leave the church- just analyzing what would happen if I did.

One reason that being a gay Mormon is difficult for me is that it causes me to question my identity on every level. I have to think and rethink my entire concept of the world and of God. It's a good thing I have a life time to figure this all out :)

So today I gave a talk in church. It was on missionary work, and as I was preparing it, all I could think of were my frustrations with the church. I imagined talking about love and using that as a vehicle to express my annoyances. When I got there and was sitting on the stand, I felt really humbled. Looking out at everyone smiling, I realized just how great they all were. I thought to myself, these are not hateful people. I gave my talk, a little differently than I had planned, and I felt the spirit more than I have in a long time.

Back and forth, back and forth. That seems to be all I feel these days, and will probably continue that way until I make a decision.

As I was driving home from giving my talk, which was in my family's stake, I imagined coming out to my roommates and friends, and I felt at peace about it. I'm way too scared to do it yet, and I'm not even sure if it's anything close to the right decision, but it seems to be a thought experiment with positive results.

I've always considered the thought of celibacy for life to be rather depressing. But today I was considering the implications, and realized just how freeing it is to release yourself from the obligation to marry. The possibilities are endless. I could do anything, go anywhere. Oh, then there's the part of doing it all alone...maybe not as freeing as it seems at first thought.

No matter how attractive men might be to me, the thought of being in a relationship with a man never seems completely satisfying. Even repulsive. The thought of a relationship with a woman sounds great. Until I look at one again...and then feel absolutely nothing.

Wanting what I don't desire. It's so confusing and complicated. I want what I don't want but I don't want what I want.

So frustrating.

I feel like there are things that I actually believe, but that they get mixed up in the foray of things I try to believe. In my heart, what feels true is this: that it doesn't matter what gender two people have; if they are in love, it is an inherently good thing. But I've been taught my entire life that homosexuality is an awful, pernicious, and evil thing. It has always been something to be ashamed of. It has always been something that must be kept hidden. And for that reason, it has been both defining and demolishing.

I guess that's why, when I tell people, I expect it to shatter their worlds', too. I expect it to utterly change the way they perceive and interact with me. And that's why I'm so scared of telling people.

But I had an interesting experience a few weeks ago. I was talking to a friend I came out to in high school. We hadn't actually talked about me being gay in a long time, and I mentioned it. She looked surprised, and then said that she had forgotten. I was shocked. How could she forget? Didn't it completely change me in her eyes?

No, it didn't. I was still the exact same person. No matter what we do, we cannot escape ourselves. Though I try to compartmentalize myself, and lock one piece deep within a closet, it's still a part of me, and so it coming out doesn't change who I am in the least. I don't think I give people enough of a chance--I really just assume that they'll reject me. Most people I've talked to have been kind and supportive, and really haven't changed at all their attitudes or mannerisms towards me.

The more research I do into homosexuality and Church history, the more I think the Church is deeply mistaken in its policies and procedures. Today I was reading an etiology of homosexuality according to Church Leaders compiled by Connell O'Donovan, and there was one line that really stood out. In the early 1960s there was a general authority serving as president of BYU who gave a talk in which he asked all homosexuals at BYU to promptly leave because they didn't want the other students "contaminated by your presence." When I read that, my heart started beating. Contaminated? Was that all homosexuals were to him? Contaminants? No wonder there were a host of suicides in that era by homosexuals who couldn't reconcile their faith and their sexuality.

If "by their fruits ye shall know them," then which do I count as their fruits? The Church has been an incredibly positive influence on my family. Do I count those fruits? Or do I count the suicides? The Book of Mormon teaches that all good things come from God and all evil things from the devil. Why is it that my feelings for men feel so right and good, and the actions of the Church seem so unholy?

I don't know the answer. But the longer I live, the more I believe that these questions are perhaps not meant to be answered. I don't want to live an apology--I want to live a life. I believe that the purpose of life is to become something. I need to follow my own heart, my own conscience, and my own logic. I don't want to be the product of an organization or a culture--but the product of my own views on morality.

And my morality is thus: that all good things lead us to love each other unconditionally. The deepest morality I can conceive of is that of compassionate, understanding, and empathy. Even as I say that, my brain immediately thinks of counterarguments. But that really is my deepest conviction. And I know this: my experience thus far in life with homosexuality has enabled me to recognize pain in others, and to empathize with it. It has instilled in me the deep desire to help everyone who struggles. And for that, it is good. I still don't know what I'm going to choose in life--whether I'll come fully out of the closet and pursue a relationship with a man, or find a woman that I actually fall in love with; stay in the church or leave the church-- but I know this: I will try my hardest to be filled with compassion. I will try to be a moral being.

Coming out to myself

One day in the MTC, I was sitting on a chair outside of my dorm room. When the door of the room next to me opened, I glanced over and was greeted by the sight of a rather attractive Elder in my district completely naked, fixing his hair in the mirror (why someone cares about their hair when they're not even clothed, I have yet to understand). I hesitated before looking away, but then promptly returned to my room to sulk in the misery of my predicament. I felt completely ashamed and utterly alone.

In my first area, I made a decision. I figured that the reason it was so hard for me was because I had made it a secret. I decided that if I gave my secret away to God, everything would be okay, and so I wrote this poem to signify this new decision:

In years gone by I've held you here,
Secret of my heart,
But now at last in freedom's breath
From thee I will depart
And flying free through open skies
Where mercy's arms extend
I'll sing of my Redeemer's love
From now until the end

And I felt that. For most of my mission, my feelings of attraction for men were diminished, but they never left completely, and at moments, I was overwhelmed by them. At that point in time, I had accepted that I "struggled" with same sex attraction, but I could never admit, even to myself, of actually having feelings for any specific person. In retrospect, however, I definitely had a few crushes on some of the Elders in my districts. Neve my companions, though.

About nine months into my mission, one of my best friends from high school, who was writing me weekly, admitted to liking me...a lot (to be fair, it was because I insisted on her telling me the object of a love poem she had once written and shared with me). That letter made me so happy. I read it over and over throughout my mission. It became the symbol of my life-long hope that I could someday fall in love with a girl and live the Mormon dream. I guess I should say, too, that I have never had a girlfriend or kissed, cuddled, or held hands (in any way that I count, at least). Being alarmingly unattracted to girls, I blamed my lack of feelings on my own apparent unatractiveness and convinced myself that no girl could ever like me. My friend's letter was a ray of heterosexual hope in my homosexual nightmare.

I wrote her back and told her that I was interested in her, too, and that we would see what happened when I got home.

In the weeks and months after getting back, I realized that the "secret of my heart" was anything but "flying free." It was right there inside of me where it had been all along.

I went on one date with my friend. One. It didn't even last the whole night. As the semester progressed and I began, against my will, to develop feelings for a guy in one of my classes, I realized that I would have to be honest with her, and tell her about my lack of feelings.

It was hard for me, and mostly for her. I felt like a liar and a jerk.

But for the first time, I felt myself acknowledging my feelings for another man- not just feelings of sexual attraction, but intellectual and emotional attraction as well. The feelings were powerful, an dwarfed any feigns of interest I had in my friend. Being honest with her was difficult, but an important step for me.

As time went on, I found my feelings for this guy in my class deepening, and with them, my feelings of dissonance. I wrote this poem to express the paradox I found myself in:

The simple, sickly sweet surprise
I find when looking in your eyes
Supplies a satisfaction
That only e'er dissatisfies

I never want to see the day
When thoughts of you are gone away
But every morning when I wake
I pray that they'll put at bay

Sordidly seducing me
These images I ever see
Dancing through my crowded mind
Of me with you, and you with me

I know not which I want to seek,
To be free, or to be meek
Wanting what I don't desire,
I yearn for both, yet both are bleak


And that's where I found myself when I left for my trip to China. I was finally acknowledging my feelings for a man, and giving up on ballooning my feelings for girls into something more than they were. But with this acknowledgment came a new depth of pain, which resulted in the conversation with another friend in Qingdao, which I mentioned in my first post.

And that's the gist of the journey I took in coming out to myself. I left on my mission in denial, and here I am now with a truth I can't make sense of. Not yet, anyway. Writing this all out is helpful, though.

Why I Keep Going

So far in my very short blogging career I've written a lot about pain and frustration. I've explored the depths of my cognitive dissonance. I've expressed deep doubts about my faith. But I haven't talked much about why it's all worth it to me. Tonight I want to talk about why I keep going.

There was one morning in high school when, as I was driving to school, I was pondering about God and His love. I thought about all of my friends and about my family, and as I got out of my car and began walking to class, I remember looking up at the deep blue of the sky and feeling a deep, real sense of peace. It was an incredible sense of joy. For a moment, I felt lost in God. And it was blissful.

I questioned a lot in middle school and high school. My biggest question was, if God loved me, why did I have so much pain? Why was I so bad? Why couldn't I just be an attractive guy who was attracted to girls? And I did get an answer. It came slowly, piece by piece, but over time it dawned on me that God was drawing me closer to Him through this pain. God is love, and my pain inspired within me an empathy for others, and thus helped me to become more like Him. And it allowed me to find and feel His love for me. I realized that I could have moments of pure joy like the one I described only because of my pain. I felt the depth of the atonement of Christ. I really felt that He became one with me in that act.

In late September I took the picture that's at the top of my blog. I was standing on top of the Swiss alps looking down at lake Geneva. It was another expansive, joyful moment for me. And it reminded me just how big God is and how little I am. It was a moment of peace.

All religions have one thing in common: they're a about abandoning self to a higher power. In those moments where I have escaped myself, I have found so much happiness. And that's why I keep going- because I've felt the joy and love of God, and am subsequently persuaded, deeply, that all pain has meaning and that God is in all things.

Yesterday I came across an interesting article that was discussing the causes of homosexuality. Its conclusion was that, while scientists still can't be sure, it is most likely a combination of biological and environmental factors. That got me thinking... why is it that no one ever discusses the causes of heterosexuality? It can't just be uncaused. There has to be a reason that most people are sexually attracted to the opposite gender. Well, there are a few options. Heterosexuality could be biological. I think this is the option most conservative people would opt for. But if heterosexuality resides within our genes, wouldn't it make the most sense that homosexuality is also biological? Okay, so let's say that heterosexuality is caused by being raised in a "normal" environment. If homosexuality is caused by a abnormal environment, then they are determined in the same way, and are equally as powerful and difficult to change.

It just bothers me that people never seem to understand what it means to be gay. They don't get what it feels like to feel attracted to the same gender, and not attracted to the opposite gender. And frankly, I can't blame them. I have a tendency of assuming that nearly everyone I meet is secretly in the closet... because I cannot imagine a man not being attracted to other men. It's almost incomprehensible to me, because attraction to men is all I've ever experienced. Talking to some straight people, and especially straight men, they seem to assume that you are just a confused heterosexual who is lusting after the same gender. But it's so much deeper and more than that. Physical attraction is just one component of attraction, and I don't think that same gender attraction is all about sex.

And so, the important question for me in my life, is why is homosexuality wrong. I don't buy the argument that it's unnatural. The word "natural" is such a farce, because everything that has ever happened has occurred in the natural world... Also, the natural man is an enemy to God, right? Being unnatural doesn't make it wrong (and having naturally experienced the attractions myself, I obviously don't think it's unnatural.) The next argument that's generally used is that two men or two women can't have children. The purpose of sexual intercourse and long-term, intimate relationships, the posit, is to have a family, which homosexuals cannot do naturally. Thus, it is wrong. The problem with this teleological argument is that it mistakes the purpose of intimacy. Is it wrong for a married, heterosexual couple to be intimate if they can't have children? No. Is it wrong for heterosexual couples to use contraceptives and birth control? Not according to our doctrine. If the only purpose of intimacy was to have children, then heterosexual couples would only be allowed to have sex when they were trying to have children. This is not the case, and so the purpose of intimacy must be something different.

The purpose of intimacy is just that-- to be intimate with someone. To express and give love in a physical way. I've pondered a lot before on just how absolutely empty feelings of lust are. There's nothing behind them. Lust is just a really, really strong desire that is never really fulfilled. It just goes away. Sex as an end unto itself is pointless. Allowing your life to be driven by lust and lust alone leads to an empty, purposeless life, I think. Those powerful physical emotions are given depth and meaning when they are not an end unto themselves, but the means to an end. The end being a person that you love. When the person is the object of your love, and not the pleasure, it changes the entire meaning of sexual feelings.

So why would it be wrong for two people of the same gender to share physical intimacy to express deep love for each other? It all comes down to the question of whether or not homosexuality is deviant, or a part of your inborn character. That is why conservative groups spend so much time trying to prove that it is not biological (but as I said before, if it's not biological, then I struggle to see how heterosexuality could be biological, which would put the two, once again, on an equal playing field of innateness).

Within Mormon theology, I think, the wrongness of it is viewed from an eternal perspective. Gender roles and identity are a part of our eternal nature, as it says in the Family Proclamation. The purpose of marriage isn't just to be intimate or to have children here on earth-- it's far more than that. It's to enable us to become like God. God Himself has a Wife, right? And we're meant to go into the eternities as couples, procreating forever. If God is heterosexual, then homosexuality is obviously deviant, because it inhibits you from fulfilling the purpose of life--- which is to become like God. Why would God create a spirit child that cannot fulfill its divine potential? We can safely assume that He wouldn't, because His purpose is to "bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." We were made to become like Him. And so He wouldn't make anyone who couldn't. Homosexuality, therefore, cannot be innate in Mormonism. It has to be either a purely physical affliction that did not exist before and will not exist in the hereafter, or something that went wrong and can be changed.

And so, accepting the premise that it is deviant from the way things ought to be and that something has gone wrong to make you this way, it is acceptable to preach change. Because even if you can't personally change yourself, God can change you. We believe in a God of miracles. He can heal you.

But what if sexual orientation isn't what God needs to heal us of? What if the problems that God wants to heal us of are hatred, pride, selfishness, envy, and prejudice? "The end of the law is this, that you love your neighbor as yourself." "All of the law is fulfilled in one word: that you love your neighbor as yourself." "By this shall men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." "If ye have not charity, ye are nothing..." "Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God, and every one that loveth is born of God and knoweth God, and he that love not knoweth not God. For God is love."

I don't think that my sexual orientation is sufficient reason to doubt what has been revealed to me by the Spirit (no matter how much the Zen Buddhist in me might). And what I know by the Holy Ghost is that God lives, and that He loves me. I know that Christ is my Savior. What I do not know by the Spirit is whether or not homosexuality is wrong. For it to not be wrong in God's eyes, I would have to accept that there are a few fundamental flaws within Mormon theology. For now, I believe Mormon theology. But even more deeply, I believe that God is greater than Mormonism. He is greater than any of us know. And He knows things that I don't.

Well this has been another fun ramble. More to think through my own thoughts than anything else.

Tonight was another fugue.

I went to a friend's house tonight for a little get together. There were a few good friends there that I haven't seen in a long time. We watched one of my favorite movies and had lots of great conversation. There was one point where I was talking to this girl... and I couldn't help thinking... wow, we'd be great together. We've got all of the same interests and passions, and we get along really well. And I started to feel hopeful again that I could be attracted to girls. That I'm attracted to men is unquestionable, but perhaps I could be bisexual.

Later, as we were watching the movie, I was on the couch sandwiched between her and another good friend. I had "liked" the second friend for lots of years in high school (in retrospect it feels like a disingenuous emotional crutch). At one point during the movie, something occurred to me. Until that moment, I hadn't even realized that my arms were touching their arms and that their legs were right up against mine. It didn't feel like anything. It was hardly noticeable. Now contrast this to Halloween night when I was sitting on at the same place on the same couch watching a movie with the same friends, only this time I was sitting next to one of my very attractive guy friends. Every time his leg bumped up against mine, I felt a wave of relief. There was no way I couldn't notice if he, for even a moment, scooted closer to me, or leaned towards me. But with those two girls, it was hardly even noticeable.

Conclusion? None at all. Just observations. During the first half of the evening, when I started thinking that maybe I could like this girl, I had a surge of hope. And as I felt that surge, my thoughts turned to the prophets and to the church, and I could hope it again. I could feel it. Later on as I remembered experiences I'd had sitting next to guys that had been so different, I sunk back into doubt.

But overall, today was a very happy day. And I'm more okay with being gay than I ever have been before. I just don't know what to do with it. One day at a time, I guess.

random ramblings followed by a dialogue

When it first began to occur to me that the feelings of attraction I was experiencing were somehow wrong or not in line with what I had been taught, I had a few mixed reactions. The first was a sense of needing to hide it. The second was guilt. But the third was a desire to explore it further. I chose to repress the third and became a master of double think (something I'm starting to think is inherent within Mormon culture). This plays back into what I was talking about on Sunday--the contradictions. I wanted equally for it to stop and for it to continue. Two mutually exclusive truths trying to dwell in the same heart lead for some nasty psychological battles. And it turned me into a liar. I would pray a lie when I asked God to take it away. But I would also be thinking a lie whenever it occurred to me how much I wanted it to stay. In order to say anything in any direction, a part of me had to lie.

I was never very physically active, and so most of the time I would justify away my feelings of attraction for guys as me being jealous. I thought for the longest time that if I just got into shape and lost weight that they would disappear. I was wrong. They didn't.

I remember one day in high school I was sitting in the cafeteria with my friends. There were a group of athletic guys sitting to the right of us, and with them was a German exchange student. I can't remember his name, but I remember how I felt when I looked at him and sat near him. He was very physically attractive, and each day at lunch we would all sit in the same places. It was so distracting, because all I could think about was how angry I was at how I was feeling. I felt like I couldn't think about anything else other than how frustrating it was. The thought occurred to me that I could stop being frustrated by it, and just enjoy it if I wanted to, because it does feel good to be attracted to someone. But then I would be swept up by guilt that I wasn't even trying to be good.

I've always been rather frustrated by the word "perfect." Perfect connotes a single standard of excellence to which everyone must conform. I hate it when church leaders talk about striving for perfection, because it feels like striving to be the same. In Chinese when Christ says "be ye therefore perfect," it's translated as "complete" instead of "perfect." I like that much more. Be ye therefore complete. Be ye therefore finished. But then that begs a question: if I'm not complete yet, then what's missing?

This is the part where the three fragments of myself rise up in battle. The believing Mormon part of me says, "obedience." The non-denominational Christian in me responds, "Christ." And the Daoist, very fittingly, replies, "nothing." 

I just had a fun idea. I'm going to write a dialogue. There will be a Mormon, a non-denominational Christian, and a Zen Buddhist monk. They are going to talk through my philosophical problems for me. 

Dialogue:

Mormon: The solution to any problem can be found in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Christian: I couldn't agree more. Knowing that Christ saved me from my sins brings me peace and freedom to face all of the pain I could ever encounter in this life.

Zen Master: Isn't that tree beautiful?

Mormon: Why yes, it is. But I don't quite see what that had to do with our conversation. We were discussing what a gay Mormon should do. I think that they should follow the gospel of Christ, just like everyone else.

Christian: And I agree, but the more we talk, the more I realize that we're meaning two completely different things by the word "gospel." What do you mean when you say "gospel?"

Mormon: Well, the gospel is the good news that Christ came to the earth, established his church, and atoned for our sins. It is the good news that after centuries of apostasy, his church has been restored to the earth, including the priesthood authority that he gave his apostles. That means that there are prophets and apostles on the earth today, who are the leaders of the church. Because of that, we now have the authority to baptize, give the gift of the Holy Ghost, and administer the sacrament. There are five steps to overcoming our sins through the gospel: having faith in Jesus Christ, repenting, being baptized by immersion for the remission of sins by someone who holds the priesthood, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands, and enduring to the end.

Christian: That sounds like a really complicated gospel.

Mormon: No, it's actually very simple. It can all be summed up in one word: obedience.

Christian: What do you mean by that?

Mormon: Well, Christ completely obeyed the will of the Father by coming down to earth and living a perfectly obedient life and then died for us. He told us the way to overcome our sins (which is really disobedience to God), and that was by being obedient to Him. He said "If you love me, keep my commandments." We obey him by repenting of our disobedience. The way we repent is by confessing our sins to Him, and to other people involved if relevant, and to the Bishop if it's really bad, and then by changing. Really, repentance is just another word for obedience. Like it says in Moroni 8: the remission of sins comes by obedience to the commandments.

Christian: Okay, I'm starting to understand the difference. When I say the word gospel, what I mean was that God saw that there was pain and suffering in the world because of sin, and so God Himself came down to earth and lived as we do. He was God, so he obviously lived a perfect life. In the end, He was crucified for our sins, and He taught that His atonement was a free gift for anyone that would believe in Him. The gospel is really just the good news that Christ has saved us from our sins. It's so simple. He already took the punishment of our disobedience upon Him, and so if we believe in Him, He frees us from the law. He saves us by grace and grace alone, because no one can be saved by their own works. It's all about Gods love for us.

Mormon: Oh, but it's all about God's love for us, too. We're Christians too, you know. 

Christian: The more I talk to you, the less I'm sure of that. I think we believe in two different Christs.

Mormon: What do you mean by that?

Christian: Well, you believe in a Christ that saves you if you obey Him. I believe in a Christ that saves me because He loves me. Anyway, we're getting away from the topic of the conversation, which is about what gay people have to do to be saved.

Mormon: And like I said, they have to follow the gospel just like the rest of us. They, too, can be saved by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel. They need to make covenants with God and keep those covenants. They have to keep the law of chastity. If they happen to find anyone of the opposite gender that they do have feelings for, then they should pursue them and get married. If not, then God will provide a way for them to keep His commandments. He always does. If you fail, it's you failing, not God.

Christian: But Christ has already given us the new covenant! The old covenant was God's covenant with ancient Israel, but Christ fulfilled the law of Moses. The new covenant is to come unto Christ and be saved. I agree that homosexuality is against the law of God, but all of us break the law of God daily. A gay person is saved the same way a straight person is saved: by realizing that they cannot save themselves and relying completely on the grace of Christ.

Mormon: It doesn't seem to me that our Zen Master friend has spoken much. What do you think?

Zen Master: **smiles** I haven't said anything, because I said all I had to say. The trees are very beautiful.

Mormon: But that's not even relevant.

Zen Master: Trees don't have to be relevant to be beautiful. And every tree is different. Look at them. No tree tries to be beautiful. No trees live up to any commandments. They simply are. And each one is beautiful.  

Christian: My Mormon friend and I have talked a lot about salvation. What do you think about the subject?

Zen Master: From what is there to be saved? 

Mormon: Well, sin of course. I mean, we all make mistakes, right?

Zen Master: A tree cannot make a mistake. It simply grows.

Mormon: But I was talking about humans, not trees. And they can definitely make mistakes. I know. 

Zen Master: **smiles** Humans can suffer. And sometimes their suffering leads them to prolong suffering and cause others to suffer.

Christian: Then don't they need to be saved from their suffering, at least?

Zen Master: Perhaps what they need to be saved from most is the concept of salvation.

Mormon: **flabbergasted** But don't Buddhists have their own form of salvation? Enlightenment, right? Nirvana?

Christian: **shocked** How can you say that the concept of salvation is wrong? It's absolutely freeing!

Zen Master: **laughs** Nirvana means "blowing out." Enlightenment is the blowing out of all desires, expectations, and judgments. One cannot achieve enlightenment who desires to be enlightened, because the very desire inhibits them from experiencing it. Salvation is something different entirely. It's the act of another to save you from something from which you cannot save yourself. But in reality, the Buddha nature is within. Buddha simply means "enlightened one." You can take it to mean "freedom." Freedom comes from within. Be free from expectations, judgments, and desires, then you shall know true happiness, true compassion, and true joy. As for homosexuality, there isn't such a thing. Labels are what we use to try to understand reality. But reality is not to be understood, but simply experienced. If one experiences deep compassion and love for someone of the same gender, then to deny that love would be to deny reality.

Christian: I simply cannot accept that, because God is too important to me. I've known the grace of Christ.

Mormon: And I have communicated with God. I know that Christ is my Savior, and I know that the Book of Mormon is true.

Zen Master: And I know the beauty of the trees.

And those are the three voices that battle it out in my mind. I like the Zen Master the best, personally, but I stay tied to the other two perspectives based on what I believe to be revelation.

Well this was an interesting post. It began by rambling and then devolved into a fabricated dialogue. How fun.

Something I Wasn't Expecting

Okay, so this one's going to take a little bit of background.

My dad's dad was gay. He and my grandma were separated and got back together something like eight times. And from what my mom has told me, my dad really hated him for it. And his biggest fear was that one of his sons would be gay.

And here I am :)

That's why I've never told him. I only told my mom for the first time a few months ago, and she reacted positively. But I've never told her about my feelings or doubts about the church, because I know that would crush her. The few times she's talked to me about it, she's assured me that God can help us all overcome our challenges. Communication is made increasingly difficult the more I realize that this is a part of myself, and not some disgusting disease.

Tonight something very unexpected happened. I started talking to my parents about the election on Tuesday, and then that naturally turned into a conversation about the moral issues facing our country, and of course the first one mentioned was gay rights. My little sister said something negative about the democrats for supporting gay rights, and I felt a little hurt, but knew that she didn't know any better. And then my dad went off on how legalizing gay marriage would destroy our society. And so I asked him, well, what should a gay person do, then? Live a life of celibacy? And that's when he said something that really shocked me:

"A bullet would do the job... Ha ha. No, but they can be changed. It's hard and expensive, but it can be done."

I stood up, left the house, and drove home. The word "demolished" feels most adequate to describe how I felt. My dad called and apologized, thinking that I had just been offended ideologically. The real reason I left was because I didn't want him to see me cry.

A year ago, that comment wouldn't have bothered me. Denying my feelings to the extreme, I always related to homophobia. But that comment was beyond homophobia. It was absolutely hateful. How can someone who believes themselves to be a disciple of Christ say something like that?

I know I shouldn't let myself get angry. If he knew, he never would have said that. But none of that changes just how much it hurts.

It's hard not to let the emotions cloud logic. I'm not going to make my life choices based on one night of emotional despair. I know that church doctrine and the teachings of prophets have nothing to do with what happened tonight. But hearing things like that makes it so much easier to emotionally justify my doubts.

Thoughts After Church

So I just got home from church.

Walking up to the church building with my roommates, wearing my Sunday best, and humming hymns, I couldn't help but feel the comfort of familiarity. I love going to church. I feel like during the meetings, and especially sacrament meeting, my doubts and frustrations are largely put at bay, and I can genuinely feel the love of God and be at peace. But then, as happened today, someone will often say something over the pulpit that just frustrates me and brings so many questions. One of the speakers today mentioned Satan's "attack on the family," and talked about how dangerous it was. A few euphemisms and metaphors later, it was clear what he was a talking about. And once again, I felt like I didn't belong. It's such a paradoxical feeling, to feel rejected by the familiar... and even a sense of familiarity with the rejection.

I think that people who are attracted to those of the same gender within the church face a dilemma the complexity of which few people are fully able to grasp. Last night I had a conversation with one of my very best friends where I opened up and talked more honestly with him than I ever had before. It was frightening, but good. As I tried to express why exactly I feel so much distress and pain over the issue, he struggled to understand, and I struggled to communicate, because there is just so much there.

It's so much more complicated than just being attracted to men. It's the implications of that fact on my personal and family life, and especially my faith, that causes the distress. Because I do have faith. And I have had many spiritual experiences. Specifically, I feel that I have received revelation from God that Jesus Christ is my Redeemer, and that God loves me. I have a testimony of the Book of Mormon. But if I believe that, what conclusions do I draw from it? If I'm to believe Church doctrine as revealed through modern prophets, which I am wont to do, then I must accept a few commandments that make my life difficult and awkward. Most specifically, I am referring to the commandment to get married, because "the man is not without the woman, nor the woman without the man in the Lord." As the scriptures conclude, "it is not good for man to be alone." Unless he's gay. In that case, he must live a life of complete celibacy. A life, I would argue, that is of slightly more difficulty than the unfortunate heterosexual who happens to never get married (and I don't mean to undermine their pain in any degree, because it is real and it is hard. And I recognize my own biases in saying that). For the celibate homosexual trying to live church doctrine, there's no hope of  a relationship, except for the slight hope that someday he (or she) will meet someone of the opposite gender to whom they are most miraculously attracted. I don't discount that this happens, like in the instances of Josh Weed and Josh Johansen. But it seems to me that it is very, very rare. And having lived a life of constantly hoping against hope and praying and fasting for a girl I'm attracted to, I can be the first to testify that it is not a happy way to live. Or maybe I'm just not doing it right, which is an option I'm open to (in fact, I would prefer for this to be the case.) In addition, for a homosexual within the church, there is virtually no way to relieve sexual feelings. You cannot masturbate or look at pornography (which are two commandments that I agree with anyway). You cannot hold hands, cuddle, kiss, or show physical affection for someone of the same gender (and as a college student, let me be the first to attest that it is normal and accepted for heterosexuals to do all of the above even outside of a committed relationship). All you can do is wish your feelings away. It's rather bleak to look forward to a life of that particular brand of celibacy. And so it leads me to doubt that it is what God intends for me. And that leads me to doubt the doctrines of the Church, and in turn the seeming infallibility of the prophets on the issue. Even just on this level questioning, it's extremely complicated.

And then there's the level of questioning your sexuality. I can't tell you how many times I've delved into a positive emotion felt for a girl in the hope that it was sexual attraction. When you're experiencing sexual attractions you don't want to have, it causes you to question the nature of attraction in the first place, which leaves you much more confused on the matter than the general populace. I'm sure that if heterosexual men questioned their every positive feelings for other men, they could be equally confused. But luckily, they live in a society that reinforces their dominant attractions to those of the opposite gender, and they can feel free to ignore or interpret as platonic any feelings for those of the same gender. For gay men within the church, and especially those who are just realizing what's happening to them, they are left not only questioning their feelings for men, but also their every feeling for women, trying to find the one that is "supposed" to be there, and trying so hard to accentuate any small feeling of attraction for the opposite sex. I would bet that there are more homosexuals in the church that question whether or not they are bisexual than there are heterosexuals who do the same.

And then there's the elements of fear. Fear of how people would react if they knew. Fear of losing everything you've ever loved. Fear of what decisions you'll make in the future. And for me it's not just fear of what people would think if they knew that I am attracted to men, but fear of how they would react if they knew the level to which I am questioning the teachings of the Church. I can just imagine the pain in my mother's eyes if I told her that I was questioning the Church. And I don't want her to feel that. I don't want anyone to feel that. I don't want them to be different or awkward around me. And so, for now, I sit in silence, contemplating the maze of complexities in which I live.

The best analogy I can come up with for my current feelings for the church is that of a fugue. In a fugue, there's usually a melody and a counter melody that are opposite from each other playing at the same time. And that is so completely how I feel. I walk to church, and I feel familiar and safe. I feel God. I feel accepted and loved. And then I feel confused. And I feel rejected. And I feel doubt and fear.

Ultimately, the difficulty of being a homosexual Mormon is that two innate parts of your identity are in constant collision, with your emotional and mental health the seemingly only casualty. It's demolishing.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented so far! I was genuinely surprised and pleased by the responses. It does feel so good to know that I'm not alone in this. From what I've read of other people's experiences, loneliness seems to be an inherent part of this issue for most people. Especially before they realize that there's a community of people out there facing the same issues. For me, that realizing moment was when I saw the BYU It Gets Better video. I watched it over and over. I know that lots of people have criticized it for the way it starts and ends. All I can say was that it brought hope and comfort to me at a time when I was rather despairing, and for that I'm very grateful.

In my journals, blog posts, and really even when I just think about it, I often refer to my being attracted to men as "this issue" or "this problem" instead of labeling it as homosexuality, same gender or same sex attraction, or being gay. The reason for this is that I can't think of myself as homosexual or gay without equating it with the words "evil," or "stupid" in my heart, like I mentioned in my first post. I recognize that this is irrational, and I know very well that it makes me neither evil nor stupid. But alas, irrational feelings are still feelings felt, and referring to myself by those words makes me extremely uncomfortable. As for the blessed acronyms that permeate any LDS conversation of the topic (...hoping the sarcasm comes across...), I feel that SSA and SGA are often used conversationally in the same ways people refer to diseases and disorders, as something that someone most unfortunately "has" or "struggles with" instead of a part of who they are. Those really are the only two verbs people usually use with those phrases. I also feel like these terms are an excuse to avoid the negative connotations associated with gay and homosexual. Caveat: I don't mean to criticize other peoples' use of the terms so much as express why they make me feel uncomfortable. And so I'm semantically trapped between an inconvenient truth and a misrepresentation. I settle for just saying that I'm attracted to men, and subsequently referring to it in veiled and unspecific terms.

I'm really excited at the prospects of continuing this blog and writing through everything I think about. I plan on posting regularly, and everyone is more than welcome to post comments and questions and engage in dialogue. Again, it just feels so good to know that I'm not alone. Thank you for that.