For those who haven't read the first few posts I made, I'm going to include a quick excerpt from my very first post on why I named my blog "the Uncarved Block."
"In this last week, I've been reading and re reading blog after blog. I don't know what I believe any more. I don't know who I am or what I want from life. I've titled this blog 'the uncarved block.' I want to use this blog as a journey to think through my life and my views and to discover my authentic self. I love Daoism. In Daoism, the uncarved block represents the concept of nature before the imprint of culture, or, as I'm using it here, the authentic or true self. I want to rediscover and become the uncarved block-- my true and authentic self. I feel like right now I'm fragmented. There's the part of me that believes deeply in Mormonism and wants to get married to a woman and have a family. There's the part of me that believes strongly in Christ, and would be comfortable remaining Christian and abandoning Mormonism. There's the part of me that is extremely attracted to men. Part of me hates that, and the other embraces it. And then there's the part of me that's a Daoist, and just wants to enjoy the beauties of the present moment. I hope that in writing, I can find a synthesis. I want to overcome this fragmentation, and discover what I really, truly believe."
I spent a few hours tonight introspecting deeply. It began with a very humbling conversation with a friend. It was the kind of feeling where you finally grasp something so much bigger than yourself that has somehow been evading you. We talked about some mistakes I'd made and some things I did wrong. I didn't feel very guilty- justvery humbled. I just really felt the depth of my weakness. After talking to her, I sat in the library and just thought for quite awhile. Almost over an hour, I think. I thought deeply about my early childhood and tried to remember as much as possible about the transition periods in my early life- like moving to and from St.George, depression in fourth grade, going to and from Harold B Lee elementary,etc. I remembered quite a few things that I hadn't thought about in years,and some of them perhaps even since they happened. And I learned quite a bit.For a long time I've regretted the fact that I don't have a written record of most of my earlier childhood because I feel like in order to understand where I am, who I am, who I want to become, and where I'm going, I need to understand those early formative years and the influences that shaped me and the reasons I thought the way I thought and made the choices I did. But I've often worried that I actively change my memories and look at things differently than they actually happened. I realized tonight that it doesn't matter if my memories are only distorted fragments because they can still be revelatory in the mere fact that I remember them. What I remember says a great deal about who I was and am. Only those things that impacted me emotionally will have survived in my mind, and so through analyzing them, I can begin to piece together who I was at different points in time through the knowledge of what things were important to me.I also realized that the narrative is the function by which self is understood, and so I can understand quite a bit about I am at any given point in time by looking at the narrative I believed about myself, with no judgment as to the a actually veracity of the narrative. For example, my narrative about my feelings for certain girls has often changed from being genuine feelings that offer hope to being an emotional crutch to avoid dealing with the pain of possibly being gay.I think that the narrative that I make for myself is most often more important than the reality of what has actually happened in the past because it informs my action and attitudes to a greater degree. Didmy feelings for a girl occur naturally or did I force them? At this point I honestly have no idea, but I can tell a lot by the narrative I make for myself about it.This also teaches me something deeper about humanity in general. We find our identity in the narratives we create for ourselves. Changes in behavior or feelings are often impossible without a change in the narrative (but definitely not always. I'm by no means asserting you can stop being gay by changing the narrative you view yourself).A consistent narrative I found in myself was the narrative of being different. From an early age I began to believe that there was something very different about me that genuinely separated me from other people. Was my subsequent separation the result of actually being different, or just of the narrative I formed around my perception of self? And after that, didn't separation just create a self confirming bias?Understanding this concept of narrative as the root of identity could be life changing if you open up to new narratives and new ways of understanding your past. For example, if I stop finding my identity in the boy who was different, perhaps it wouldn't bother me so much when I come upon differences I view as irreconcilable in my relationships with other people.And maybe the true path to autonomy and happiness isn't in the reinterpretation of identity narratives or in forming new ones, but in simply recognizing narratives for what they are and moving beyond them. I can move beyond the narrative of the boy who was different. I can think outside of the narrative of the boy who was always fat and unattractive. I can move into a new territory of the life without narrative- living as the uncarved block.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
The Voice of God
Before I begin this post, I need to clarify for a moment the current status of my evolving feelings towards the Church. I think it's best expressed by a few stanzas by Alfred, Lord Tennyson:
Our little systems have their day,
They have their day and cease to be
They are but broken lights of thee
And thou, Oh Lord, are more than they.
...
Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds
At last he beat his music out
There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds
He fought his doubts and gather'd strength,
He would not make his judgement blind,
He faced the specters of the mind
And laid them: thus he came at length
To find a stronger faith his own
And Power was with him in the night
Which makes the darkness and the light
And dwells not in the light alone
Continuing to learn about the history and doctrinal evolution of the Church makes it extremely clear just how human an institution it is and how much it changes according to the zeitgeist of a given period. The overall message, however, is a consistent proclamation of hope and declaration in the redeeming power of love. The mission of the Church has remained constant, to proclaim the reality and divinity of Christ and that all men can be saved by belief in Him. And I love that. I have had experiences that I would label as revelatory and I believe deeply that God exists and that He loves each and every one of us. But our little religious systems, over and over, have their day and cease to be. They're only broken lights of Him--the true light that animates the universe and is the source of all goodness.
Central to this conversation about homosexuality and Mormonism is defining the voice of God. There are many bloggers in the community that take the stance of continuing in line with Church policies and doctrine because of their sincere desire to follow God and to live their lives in line with His teachings. I think that this approach is admirable. But there are necessary questions that must be asked and examined.
The scriptures and prophets are very clear in the necessity to keep the commandments and to follow the voice of God. It's this injunction that brings so many questions in regards to homosexuality because of God's seeming condemnation of it. A necessary question, therefore, is what is the voice of God? Or, what are His commandments? Only after thoroughly examining and thinking through the answers to these questions should a person decide how they want to act and advocate in regards to homosexuality within the Church.
In my experience personally as a missionary and in nearly every conversation I've had with orthodox members of the Church, the logic goes somewhat like this: Joseph Smith claimed to see and communicate with God. Joseph Smith was a person, just as I am a person; therefore, I should be able to communicate with God in the same manner. Joseph Smith claimed that God commanded him to restore His church to the earth. I can therefore know whether or not this is true by communicating with God. Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon as evidence of his communication with God. The Book of Mormon promises that if I read it and ask God in faith, I can know for myself whether or not it is true. If the Book of Mormon is true, then Joseph Smith was a prophet. If Joseph Smith was a true prophet, then the Church he restored is true and subsequent leaders were also prophets of God who speak for God. Assuming this narrative, I can conclude that I ought to follow what is taught at any given time by the leaders of the Church.
The Book of Mormon is the crux of the argument, and my feelings in regard to the Book of Mormon, according to this logical structure, ought to dictate the way that I live my life. If I "know" the book is true, based on my subjective emotional and spiritual experience, then I should live my life based on the teachings of the Church (one irony being that the teachings of the Church have often been contradictory with teachings found in the Book of Mormon, such as the etiology of race, trinitarian views of the godhead, the necessity of temple ordinances for salvation, polygamy as a prerequisite for exaltation, etc.).
What I want to point out is that this logical structure is incongruent with reality, and, therefore, a much larger diversity of conclusions can be drawn about Mormonism. This narrative is extremely black and white. It's all or nothing. If I've learned anything so far in life, it's that reality is vastly more complex than that. Why would God's true church reflect something different than reality as it is?
There are two primary ways that I'm going to point out the incongruent nature of this narrative in respect to recorded history (though there are far more critiques that could be brought to it). The first is in the passing on of the prophetic mantle to Brigham Young, and the second is in the consistency of the "voice of God," or the commandments, over time.
I've got to admit that I haven't done much research on this first one, but D. Michael Quinn and other historians have examined it extensively, and you can check out their work for more questions. A lot of the circumstances surrounding Brigham Young's replacement of Joseph Smith as president of the church are questionable. One example that has been constantly cited as a spiritual manifestation of the authenticity of his calling was that when Brigham Young stood before the saints and appeared to them as Joseph Smith and the audience heard his voice as Joseph's voice. There is, however, no historical evidence that this actually occurred. Many people attended the meeting where it was purported to have happened, and none of them recorded it happening in their journals. It wasn't until after Brigham Young's death that the stories started circulating. The situation surrounding the passing of the keys to Brigham Young was also really questionable. The claim that if Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, subsequent prophets were also called by God is not necessarily true. This leaves a lot more diversity of the thought in regards to policies of the church that happened after Joseph's death, such as the acceptance and legalization of slavery in Utah, blacks and the priesthood, coffee, tea, and beer as being prohibited by the word of wisdom, the condemnation of homosexuality and masturbation, etc. (Also, I'm not saying what I believe here--just pointing out how much more room there is for conversation and diversity of thought within Mormonism than most people are exposed to.)
Secondly, there's the consistency of the commandments over time. Interpretation of the commandments has differed greatly in different periods of Church history. I already mentioned the major ones above, with racial policies within the Church, polygamy as a commandment necessary for exaltation, Church rhetoric in regards to homosexuality, and the changing of the Word of Wisdom. Another important change was a subtle one--a change in the law of tithing. If you look at the section of the Doctrine and Covenants where the law of tithing is revealed, it very clearly requires that Church members pay ten percent of their excess income. Beginning in the latter part of the nineteenth century, the interpretation was changed to be ten percent of someone's entire income, which greatly increases the amounts of donations one will give in the course of a year. (More information here). This issue is one of great concern, because there was no specific revelation received to change the commandment, and preference ought to be given to the standard works over church policy. When you really examine the history of the commandments and the way they are taught, you will find that they change and differ greatly over time.
I'm bothered when I read on people's blogs that they feel they have to live a certain way simply because the Church says so (and perhaps I'm wrong in being bothered by it). The reason is because I feel like far too few people really question the nature of the commandments. Far too few people in the Church really question what qualifies as the voice of God. Everything that has happened in the last four hundred years that has moved humanity from feudal societies in which people rarely lived past their fortieth birthday to increasingly egalitarian societies with high quality of life has come from inquiring. Progress is found in asking questions. I've found it to be true for myself and my own happiness, as well. We don't have to just accept the world as it was taught to us. We have the opportunity to go out and see to know reality as it really is. And we need to be prepared for some of our most basic assumptions to be questioned.
I do not expect in any way that a person who truly questions these things will automatically reject the Church or its teachings on homosexuality. I think there's room intellectually to agree with the Church's stance (though I personally disagree with it). More important to me than the conclusions is the process. More important to me than how people decide to live their lives in the end is whether or not their conclusion is born of thought and of questioning. And so I encourage everyone who is dealing with a reconciliation of faith and sexual orientation to truly question what they believe to be true, and to not rule out any possibilities. I've found that there are rich worlds of spirituality both inside and outside of Mormonism.
Questioning the truthfulness of the Church is not the end of your spiritual world-- in fact, it may just be the beginning.
...
Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds
At last he beat his music out
There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds
He fought his doubts and gather'd strength,
He would not make his judgement blind,
He faced the specters of the mind
And laid them: thus he came at length
To find a stronger faith his own
And Power was with him in the night
Which makes the darkness and the light
And dwells not in the light alone
Continuing to learn about the history and doctrinal evolution of the Church makes it extremely clear just how human an institution it is and how much it changes according to the zeitgeist of a given period. The overall message, however, is a consistent proclamation of hope and declaration in the redeeming power of love. The mission of the Church has remained constant, to proclaim the reality and divinity of Christ and that all men can be saved by belief in Him. And I love that. I have had experiences that I would label as revelatory and I believe deeply that God exists and that He loves each and every one of us. But our little religious systems, over and over, have their day and cease to be. They're only broken lights of Him--the true light that animates the universe and is the source of all goodness.
Central to this conversation about homosexuality and Mormonism is defining the voice of God. There are many bloggers in the community that take the stance of continuing in line with Church policies and doctrine because of their sincere desire to follow God and to live their lives in line with His teachings. I think that this approach is admirable. But there are necessary questions that must be asked and examined.
The scriptures and prophets are very clear in the necessity to keep the commandments and to follow the voice of God. It's this injunction that brings so many questions in regards to homosexuality because of God's seeming condemnation of it. A necessary question, therefore, is what is the voice of God? Or, what are His commandments? Only after thoroughly examining and thinking through the answers to these questions should a person decide how they want to act and advocate in regards to homosexuality within the Church.
In my experience personally as a missionary and in nearly every conversation I've had with orthodox members of the Church, the logic goes somewhat like this: Joseph Smith claimed to see and communicate with God. Joseph Smith was a person, just as I am a person; therefore, I should be able to communicate with God in the same manner. Joseph Smith claimed that God commanded him to restore His church to the earth. I can therefore know whether or not this is true by communicating with God. Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon as evidence of his communication with God. The Book of Mormon promises that if I read it and ask God in faith, I can know for myself whether or not it is true. If the Book of Mormon is true, then Joseph Smith was a prophet. If Joseph Smith was a true prophet, then the Church he restored is true and subsequent leaders were also prophets of God who speak for God. Assuming this narrative, I can conclude that I ought to follow what is taught at any given time by the leaders of the Church.
The Book of Mormon is the crux of the argument, and my feelings in regard to the Book of Mormon, according to this logical structure, ought to dictate the way that I live my life. If I "know" the book is true, based on my subjective emotional and spiritual experience, then I should live my life based on the teachings of the Church (one irony being that the teachings of the Church have often been contradictory with teachings found in the Book of Mormon, such as the etiology of race, trinitarian views of the godhead, the necessity of temple ordinances for salvation, polygamy as a prerequisite for exaltation, etc.).
What I want to point out is that this logical structure is incongruent with reality, and, therefore, a much larger diversity of conclusions can be drawn about Mormonism. This narrative is extremely black and white. It's all or nothing. If I've learned anything so far in life, it's that reality is vastly more complex than that. Why would God's true church reflect something different than reality as it is?
There are two primary ways that I'm going to point out the incongruent nature of this narrative in respect to recorded history (though there are far more critiques that could be brought to it). The first is in the passing on of the prophetic mantle to Brigham Young, and the second is in the consistency of the "voice of God," or the commandments, over time.
I've got to admit that I haven't done much research on this first one, but D. Michael Quinn and other historians have examined it extensively, and you can check out their work for more questions. A lot of the circumstances surrounding Brigham Young's replacement of Joseph Smith as president of the church are questionable. One example that has been constantly cited as a spiritual manifestation of the authenticity of his calling was that when Brigham Young stood before the saints and appeared to them as Joseph Smith and the audience heard his voice as Joseph's voice. There is, however, no historical evidence that this actually occurred. Many people attended the meeting where it was purported to have happened, and none of them recorded it happening in their journals. It wasn't until after Brigham Young's death that the stories started circulating. The situation surrounding the passing of the keys to Brigham Young was also really questionable. The claim that if Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, subsequent prophets were also called by God is not necessarily true. This leaves a lot more diversity of the thought in regards to policies of the church that happened after Joseph's death, such as the acceptance and legalization of slavery in Utah, blacks and the priesthood, coffee, tea, and beer as being prohibited by the word of wisdom, the condemnation of homosexuality and masturbation, etc. (Also, I'm not saying what I believe here--just pointing out how much more room there is for conversation and diversity of thought within Mormonism than most people are exposed to.)
Secondly, there's the consistency of the commandments over time. Interpretation of the commandments has differed greatly in different periods of Church history. I already mentioned the major ones above, with racial policies within the Church, polygamy as a commandment necessary for exaltation, Church rhetoric in regards to homosexuality, and the changing of the Word of Wisdom. Another important change was a subtle one--a change in the law of tithing. If you look at the section of the Doctrine and Covenants where the law of tithing is revealed, it very clearly requires that Church members pay ten percent of their excess income. Beginning in the latter part of the nineteenth century, the interpretation was changed to be ten percent of someone's entire income, which greatly increases the amounts of donations one will give in the course of a year. (More information here). This issue is one of great concern, because there was no specific revelation received to change the commandment, and preference ought to be given to the standard works over church policy. When you really examine the history of the commandments and the way they are taught, you will find that they change and differ greatly over time.
I'm bothered when I read on people's blogs that they feel they have to live a certain way simply because the Church says so (and perhaps I'm wrong in being bothered by it). The reason is because I feel like far too few people really question the nature of the commandments. Far too few people in the Church really question what qualifies as the voice of God. Everything that has happened in the last four hundred years that has moved humanity from feudal societies in which people rarely lived past their fortieth birthday to increasingly egalitarian societies with high quality of life has come from inquiring. Progress is found in asking questions. I've found it to be true for myself and my own happiness, as well. We don't have to just accept the world as it was taught to us. We have the opportunity to go out and see to know reality as it really is. And we need to be prepared for some of our most basic assumptions to be questioned.
I do not expect in any way that a person who truly questions these things will automatically reject the Church or its teachings on homosexuality. I think there's room intellectually to agree with the Church's stance (though I personally disagree with it). More important to me than the conclusions is the process. More important to me than how people decide to live their lives in the end is whether or not their conclusion is born of thought and of questioning. And so I encourage everyone who is dealing with a reconciliation of faith and sexual orientation to truly question what they believe to be true, and to not rule out any possibilities. I've found that there are rich worlds of spirituality both inside and outside of Mormonism.
Questioning the truthfulness of the Church is not the end of your spiritual world-- in fact, it may just be the beginning.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
The Reward at the End of Hell
Something GMP commented on my last post sent me thinking. He said,
"We have a hard road ahead of us if it's in the cards to stay in full fellowship. I fully admit that I have a hard time imagining that the reward at the end of my life would be worth that kind of psychological hell. But if you believe the doctrines of the Gospel, that reward will be worth it, akin to those straight missionaries looking forward to their crushes and temple marriages. Our forward-looking is a lot more difficult and requires a lot more faith."
And what that made me think about is the forward-looking mentality that invests its happiness in things yet to come and yet to be. When I was younger, I always thought "once I'm a missionary, then I will be happy," or, "once I'm in college, or married, then I will be happy." I think we all do this from time to time. We use "forward thinking" to imagine rewards at the end of whatever hell in which we find ourselves to be. But how often do we stop and question the necessity of the hell in which we are living?
One of Martin Luther's theses against the Catholic Church was the selling of indulgences. The Church would basically sell the forgiveness of certain sins, and you could even purchase indulgences for others so that you could be sure they wouldn't burn in hell. And people bought them. Common, everyday peasants who could hardly feed themselves and their families would freely give money to one of the wealthiest and most powerful institutions at the time because they feared burning forever. That was one effective incentive structure. We often take the fire and brimstone imagery of hell metaphorically, but at the time it was largely viewed literally-- that people would actually burn and be whipped for eternity. This belief led them to the seemingly irrational action of giving away things they actually needed in the present to avoid an unpleasant future.
Conversely, I have found myself at times doing things right now out of the motivation for future reward- whether it's scripture study, fast offerings, or even just helping people out. These are all great things, but if the reason your doing them is for a reward, the it really worth it? Oh, and I'd like to say that I'm not really responding to or criticizing GMP so much as writing about where his comment led me in terms of thought process.
Here's what I believe- we don't do good things for a future reward, but for the reward of doing them. It is blessed to be pure in heart because to be pure in heart is a blessed state to be. Charity is its own reward. Humility is its own happiness. Likewise, hatred, anger, and pride are their own punishments.
I find happiness in the teachings of Paul and Alma that "now is the day and the time of your salvation." No matter how hard I try, I cannot escape the present moment, and so if I'm ever to experience happiness or peace, it's going to be in the now. Heaven, whatever it is, will also be an experience. It will happen in the now. If I don't know how to be happy now, how will I know how to be happy then? Because we know that the same spirit that possesses a man in this life will be the one to possess him in the next.
Perhaps the purpose of life is to learn to be happy now. I don't want to just wait for the reward at the end of the hell we so often allow our lives to come. God gave me the present, and that is where I believe He expects me to find joy--not in the insecure imaginations of some future reward. No reward is greater than happiness here, than peace in the present.
And the last question that I'm still pondering is whether of not I believe a doctrine that doesn't seem to bring it.
Thoughts?
"We have a hard road ahead of us if it's in the cards to stay in full fellowship. I fully admit that I have a hard time imagining that the reward at the end of my life would be worth that kind of psychological hell. But if you believe the doctrines of the Gospel, that reward will be worth it, akin to those straight missionaries looking forward to their crushes and temple marriages. Our forward-looking is a lot more difficult and requires a lot more faith."
And what that made me think about is the forward-looking mentality that invests its happiness in things yet to come and yet to be. When I was younger, I always thought "once I'm a missionary, then I will be happy," or, "once I'm in college, or married, then I will be happy." I think we all do this from time to time. We use "forward thinking" to imagine rewards at the end of whatever hell in which we find ourselves to be. But how often do we stop and question the necessity of the hell in which we are living?
One of Martin Luther's theses against the Catholic Church was the selling of indulgences. The Church would basically sell the forgiveness of certain sins, and you could even purchase indulgences for others so that you could be sure they wouldn't burn in hell. And people bought them. Common, everyday peasants who could hardly feed themselves and their families would freely give money to one of the wealthiest and most powerful institutions at the time because they feared burning forever. That was one effective incentive structure. We often take the fire and brimstone imagery of hell metaphorically, but at the time it was largely viewed literally-- that people would actually burn and be whipped for eternity. This belief led them to the seemingly irrational action of giving away things they actually needed in the present to avoid an unpleasant future.
Conversely, I have found myself at times doing things right now out of the motivation for future reward- whether it's scripture study, fast offerings, or even just helping people out. These are all great things, but if the reason your doing them is for a reward, the it really worth it? Oh, and I'd like to say that I'm not really responding to or criticizing GMP so much as writing about where his comment led me in terms of thought process.
Here's what I believe- we don't do good things for a future reward, but for the reward of doing them. It is blessed to be pure in heart because to be pure in heart is a blessed state to be. Charity is its own reward. Humility is its own happiness. Likewise, hatred, anger, and pride are their own punishments.
I find happiness in the teachings of Paul and Alma that "now is the day and the time of your salvation." No matter how hard I try, I cannot escape the present moment, and so if I'm ever to experience happiness or peace, it's going to be in the now. Heaven, whatever it is, will also be an experience. It will happen in the now. If I don't know how to be happy now, how will I know how to be happy then? Because we know that the same spirit that possesses a man in this life will be the one to possess him in the next.
Perhaps the purpose of life is to learn to be happy now. I don't want to just wait for the reward at the end of the hell we so often allow our lives to come. God gave me the present, and that is where I believe He expects me to find joy--not in the insecure imaginations of some future reward. No reward is greater than happiness here, than peace in the present.
And the last question that I'm still pondering is whether of not I believe a doctrine that doesn't seem to bring it.
Thoughts?
Monday, January 7, 2013
Missions and Thought Abstinence
Anyone who has served a mission or has been around missionaries a lot knows that while they are supposed to put away thoughts about girls (or guys, as the case may be) and "lock their hearts," so not to develop feelings for anyone while they are missionaries, most still fail. If they're not talking or thinking about girls back at home, they are still noticing and thinking about all of the attractive women they see (and in some cases even more than usual because they have no opportunities to express their feelings), and many of them develop unwanted crushes on ward members or sister missionaries that leave them feeling guilty and ashamed. The reason is because thought abstinence is an incredibly difficult and completely unnatural task. Many missionaries feel distraught over sexual feelings for large portions of their missions.
To me it was a very natural environment, because I had been repressing myself sexually my entire life. It was no big deal--just more of the same. Now don't get me wrong, it was harder being in closer proximity to guys and living with them (like I've said before, though, I was luckily never attracted to any of my companions... except for one...), but it was still just the same as before--trying to rid myself of my sexuality.
The experiences of many missionaries proves that two year thought abstinence from sexuality is nearly impossible. Luckily, to sustain them through this "dry spell," Elders have hopes and fantasies of their celestial marriages yet to come. They have memories of dating and share stories constantly of their first kisses, holding hands, and cuddling with girls they liked. They know that as soon as their missions are over, they can have crushes on girls again, and go back to expressing themselves physically (albeit according to the law of chastity).
The Church has acknowledged that homosexuality is not a choice. If it's not a choice, then it must be an innate part of someone. This means that homosexuals and heterosexuals are different and have different needs. The danger of the Church's current position of advocating celibacy is that it not only robs the homosexual of sexuality, cuddling, holding hands, kissing, and dating, but it goes a step further into encouraging thought abstinence-- that to think too much about people of the same gender romantically is a sin, and it's the thoughts that need to be controlled. And so homosexuals can't fulfill their needs for intimacy, and beyond that, they are completely divested of hope for a relationship. It's difficult to imagine a greater psychological hell.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Talking with the Stake President
About four weeks ago I had an interview with my Bishop for a temple recommend. I brought up a lot of concerns and doctrinal issues that he didn't know how to handle, and so he referred me to the Stake President. I met with him just this afternoon, and it actually went really, really well.
I want to take a minute to talk about the times I've talked to priesthood leaders about being gay before. The first time I ever brought it up was to my Bishop when I was fourteen. I went in to talk to him because I had masturbated a few times and felt awful about it. As an aside, I mentioned that I thought I might have same-gender attraction... He told me to ignore it and that it would go away.
The next time was during my interview with my Stake President before leaving on my mission. He asked me if I'd ever been in a homosexual relationship. I told him no, but that I had "struggled" with same-sex attraction. He asked me if I considered myself gay, and I told him no. Then he told me not to worry about it and that it would go away.
On my mission I told my Mission President about it. He told me that what everyone gets wrong is that it's not certain genders that we're attracted to, but just the human body in general (which makes me wonder if he was secretly bisexual...), and not to worry about, and that it would go away.
I don't think any of them understood the emotional baggage that comes along with being gay. I don't think they quite understood that when I said I was "struggling with same-gender attraction" I also meant that I was struggling with depression, feeling constantly alone, and feeling like no one really cared. They just swept it under the rug and said it would be okay. And that really hurt, because it was never okay, and it never went away.
The first time I talked about it to my current Bishop was after getting back from China, when I was still really depressed. He reacted in a way I had never seen before. He admitted that he knew very little about the subject, and then said that he would do everything he could to learn more about it. But he also said that no matter what happened, he would be my advocate. That meant so much to me.
Today, my Stake President reacted in a very similar way. He had never heard any of the doctrinal or historical issues I brought up, and he hadn't thought of homosexuality in the way I presented it before. And so he said he would do research and talk to me again. He also mentioned that he's very good friends with a member of the seventy, and would like for me to talk to him. So in the next month, I might be meeting with a General Authority... that would be really interesting. And I'm really excited to see what happens.
I want to take a minute to talk about the times I've talked to priesthood leaders about being gay before. The first time I ever brought it up was to my Bishop when I was fourteen. I went in to talk to him because I had masturbated a few times and felt awful about it. As an aside, I mentioned that I thought I might have same-gender attraction... He told me to ignore it and that it would go away.
The next time was during my interview with my Stake President before leaving on my mission. He asked me if I'd ever been in a homosexual relationship. I told him no, but that I had "struggled" with same-sex attraction. He asked me if I considered myself gay, and I told him no. Then he told me not to worry about it and that it would go away.
On my mission I told my Mission President about it. He told me that what everyone gets wrong is that it's not certain genders that we're attracted to, but just the human body in general (which makes me wonder if he was secretly bisexual...), and not to worry about, and that it would go away.
I don't think any of them understood the emotional baggage that comes along with being gay. I don't think they quite understood that when I said I was "struggling with same-gender attraction" I also meant that I was struggling with depression, feeling constantly alone, and feeling like no one really cared. They just swept it under the rug and said it would be okay. And that really hurt, because it was never okay, and it never went away.
The first time I talked about it to my current Bishop was after getting back from China, when I was still really depressed. He reacted in a way I had never seen before. He admitted that he knew very little about the subject, and then said that he would do everything he could to learn more about it. But he also said that no matter what happened, he would be my advocate. That meant so much to me.
Today, my Stake President reacted in a very similar way. He had never heard any of the doctrinal or historical issues I brought up, and he hadn't thought of homosexuality in the way I presented it before. And so he said he would do research and talk to me again. He also mentioned that he's very good friends with a member of the seventy, and would like for me to talk to him. So in the next month, I might be meeting with a General Authority... that would be really interesting. And I'm really excited to see what happens.
Ramblings about Emotional Stuff
Today at church I was experiencing some emotional tension, and it had little to do with doctrine or what was being taught, but rather when it came to feeling like I fit in. Fitting in has always felt like a problem for me, and so today, I kind of just want to talk through some emotional history, because it's very therapeutic.
School started, and things started to get bad. Though we got along very well, Michael and I were extremely different. He was strong and athletic and would win every game at recess. I was slow and overweight, but I loved books and I compensated any feelings of inferiority by clasping on to intelligence. Michael was the strong one; I was the smart one. So later, when Michael started telling me that everyone in our class hated me, and telling them that I didn't like them, I took refuge in my books. I read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire over ten times that year. It was just dawning on me then that Michael was a compulsive liar, something that, by the time we were in high school, had become truly pathological. He would make up all sorts of stories about people, including me. He would tell me that this person or that person hated me because of the way I did my hair. He succeeded in making sure that he was my only "friend" that year. And I was absolutely miserable. It was my first experience with complete despair. I remember sitting at my desk in class repeating in my mind over and over "I just want to shrivel up and die. I just want to shrivel up and die."
Luckily, fourth grade ended, and in fifth grade I changed schools. My dad was a fifth grade teacher in a nearby elementary school, and so he worked things out so that I could transfer to his class for fifth grade. That year was great. I had lots of friends, and all of the kids loved my dad, and by extension, I was automatically popular as the son of the coolest teacher. I still was awful at sports, though, and so I established my identity firmly in being the "smart" one, which didn't always do too well when it came to friendships. Luckily, I actually did fall in love with reading. I think reading was one of the best decisions I ever made. Seriously. There's so much out there to learn, and there are so many worlds of understanding that can open up to you in a book.
In sixth grade, I was back in the same school as Michael. I quickly discovered that our paths had parted, and that I most definitely did not want to spend too much time with him. I was often forced by necessity, however, to eat lunch with him and hang out with him (it was either that or eating on my own. New school district--I didn't know anyone). By seventh grade, though, I had found lots of new friends, and I didn't have to spend any time with Michael. Six and seventh grade were when I first started feeling attracted to other guys. I still had no idea what was going on, though, and so it didn't really bother me. They were just feelings. I didn't know how to interpret them. It was in the summer between seventh and eighth grade when I went to scout camp and just wanted to keep staring at the life guards that it finally occurred to me... oh... this is how I'm supposed to be feeling for girls.
In eighth grade I met two people who would really serve to give definition to my high school experience. Both of them played the clarinet with me in band, and I met both of them around the same time. The first was a guy who we'll call Cory. The second was a girl who we'll call Sarah. I sat by Cory on the first day of band, and immediately felt drawn to him. A few months later I would be sitting at the edge of a swimming pool watching him play a game with some other guys in the water, silently crying and repeating to myself "I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I can't be gay." I met Sarah a few weeks later, and we hit it off immediately. She loved books. She and I had lots of the same interests. And we both had a proclivity for sarcasm that led to the creation of a plethora of inside jokes. I quickly decided to have a crush on her, and when ever my thoughts turned to Cory, I would try to replace them with thoughts of Sara.
In eighth grade I found a lot of new friends, most of them through band. There were four of us in particular that quickly became very close, and we would remain best friends through the rest of high school. I felt like I fit in with them. But the reason I fit in with them, and I think this is important, is because our relationships were primarily intellectual. They all loved books. When we hung out, we would discuss Harry Potter and the Series of Unfortunate Events, and then as time moved on, we would talk about politics, philosophy, religion, etc. We never bonded much emotionally. And I learned to live an emotional double life: on the outside, I might have been very overweight and bad at sports, but I was "smart" and I had friends. On the inside, I felt deeply that no one would ever like me if they knew who I really was. If they knew how I felt when I was around Cory, they would think I was bad.
I need to talk for a minute about my best friend. We'll call him Brayden. I met him in seventh grade, and was immediately attracted to him because I was not at all attracted to him... if that makes sense. I hated being around other guys because it made me feel guilty. But I didn't find Brayden attractive at all, and so I could be around him guilt-free. We became really close in eighth and ninth grade, and did everything together Senior year. He always knew I had a secret, but he never really knew what it was.
Sophomore year I finally realized that happiness was a decision, and that people would like me if I was happy. And so I became obsessively optimistic and was happy all the time. Lots of the time it was to cover up how distraught I was inside, but there was also a degree of genuineness to it all. In Sophomore year, to my delight, Sarah started to become an important part of my group of friends. But whenever I saw Cory, I still knew there was something wrong.
Junior year was especially hard. Brayden really had a way with girls... seriously, like half of the girls in our friend group were in love with him (which I never understood, because he's not in the least bit attractive). He, unfortunately, also fell in love with them. Like... three of them. I don't need to go into details for you to guess that much drama ensued. And I went back into a level of despair I hadn't known since fourth grade. I felt so alone. Brayden could like girls, flirt with them, and hold their hands, but I couldn't be a part of that world. I finally admitted to myself that my "crush" on Sarah was a classic case of me lying to myself, and realized the enormity of what lie ahead. Sarah was the first person I ever told. We were texting about Brayden, and I was telling her how frustrated I was over it all...and then I just told her. I told her that the reason I was so frustrated was because I was deeply jealous.
Senior year was even worse. I took AP Government, and we did a program called We the People where the whole class divides into six different units and writes papers on questions to do with the Constitution, and then you go present them and get questioned about them at a competition. Cory was in my unit. We spent time together almost every day. Our class won state, and then went to nationals in April of that year, and I spent a lot of time with Cory and roomed with him. It frustrated me so much, because no matter what I did, I felt like I couldn't become good friends with him. I wanted so badly to just sit down and have a conversation where we really connected. But alas, it seems like straight guys don't do that with other guys... ha ha.
And that leads me to the whole point of this monologue. My whole life I've used books and intellectual activity as an emotional crutch for being socially awkward. Anyone who knows me can attest that I can talk for hours about Buddhism, Post-Modernism, the history of China, or any other host of academic subjects that interest me, but I have the hardest time relating with people. I can have great conversations about ideas. But I really wish I could be better at just being a friend.
At church I was just really frustrated at my own inability to connect to people. And that's what inspired this narrative of my emotional life since fourth grade.
Also, I have an interview with the Stake President this afternoon. I'm excited to see what happens... I'm having it because I failed a temple recommend interview with my Bishop for not completely sustaining the Brethren and holding views contrary to the Church's... so we'll see what happens today. Wish me luck!
Thursday, January 3, 2013
On Immorality
When I was growing up I remember a particularly poignant family scripture study when we read the verse in the Isaiah chapters of the Book of Mormon where Isaiah says that in the last days good will be called evil and evil will be called good. We discussed that verse for a minute and talked about how the Church has been demonized in the past and how we need to stay true to our morals. Over the years, I've had lots of conversations about the legalization of gay marriage with Church members, and especially during the Proposition 8 campaign in 2008 when this verse of scripture has been mentioned in reference to the way Church members are sometimes treated for their views on the matter and for the Church's support of the Proposition. I've felt lately that in some areas, this prophecy applies more to the Church than to the people outside of it.
It's important to define immorality: to define good and evil. The other day when I was talking to my dad after coming out to him, he became very emotional and said he was "sick" of this "love one another crap" and there had to be a clear, defining line between good and evil, and that we needed stick to it. I couldn't agree with him more, and I couldn't agree with him less. I agree in that there is a clear, defining line between good and evil. And I absolutely disagree in his definition. I believe that all of the most heinous, evil deeds of human history were born of hatred and dehumanization. Whether it's the Jews slaughtering the Canaanites, or Romans and their gladiators, or the slaughter of the Incas by the Spanish, or the countless inhumanities of colonization in Africa, the Armenian genocide, the Holocaust, the Cambodian genocide, the Rwandan genocide, or the genocide in Darfur, the deepest sin is the same: it's when one human being looks at another as different and as unworthy to live. It's when we fail to appreciate and legitimize our shared experience of life. Because in the end, it's our shared experience of life that makes life worthwhile.
What brought this to mind was stumbling upon a disturbing teaching in the October 1927 session of General Conference as I was searching for doctrines related to race relations and slavery for my research project. President Anthony W. Ivins, second counselor in the First Presidency under Heber J. Grant taught the following:
"I appeal to you to teach and practice righteousness and
purity of life. Do you know what those Indians to whom I have referred would do with a woman who violated the law of chastity? They would
split her ears, and cut her hair in a manner that she would be
recognized for what she is, wherever she went. They would never allow
her to marry in the tribe again, and the man who would be guilty of
offences such as are almost daily committed in our communities, would
be put to death. It may have been a barbarous law, but it kept
those people free from the sin of immorality, until they were corrupted
by the white man who came among them and introduced his more civilized
mode of life."
I'm fascinated by his definition of sin. To kill a man and maim a woman for sleeping together is not sin, but to break the law of chastity is immoral (and I am in no way advocating breaking the law of chastity). This seems in such opposition to what Christ taught. And it is in opposition to my moral compass, as well.
So why is this important to talk about? It's important because while the issues have changed (none but the most radical would treat the above quote seriously), attitudes have not. The "fate worse than death" mentality that I talked about a few posts ago is still alive and well, at least here in Utah. We need to question our perceptions of good and evil, and not just accept everything that comes down from the pulpit, lest we begin to believe such as the above quote. That quote seems ridiculous now. But things people say now will probably also seem ridiculous in fifty or a hundred years. Our ultimate value needs to be human life and compassion for all living beings, because "the end of the law is this: that you love your neighbor as yourself"; "in this hangs all the law and the prophets: that you love your neighbor as yourself"; "he that loveth not knoweth not God, for God is love"; "if you have not charity, you are nothing, for charity never faileth." I would venture to guess that a society that legalizes gay marriage in respect for LGBT people, their experiences, and their happiness, is more in line with the eternal principles of goodness than one that stones an adulteress or splits the ears of a woman found to break the law of chastity. Oftentimes, it seems to me to be those in the Church that are guilty of calling good, evil and evil, good.
I love the Church, and I'm grateful for my continued experiences in it. I don't mean to say that the people aren't loving. I've never met people so willing to go out of their way to help others (though to be fair, I've spent my whole life in Mormonism, and so haven't had much of a chance to meet other people at the same level). My only point is that doctrines and attitudes that belittle the life experiences of others need to end. To quote mormonsandgays.org, "we must not judge anyone for the feelings they experience" (though I would add the caveat that if they feel inclined to damage the quality or quantity of life of other people, we should probably judge...just sayin').
"Purity that demands exclusion isn't purity."
-An episode of Community... don't judge the source. It's a good quote :)
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
"Gender is an essential characteristic"
First, watch this video that was released by the Church on December 20:
Right now I'm researching doctrine and attitudes towards race and slavery in the Journal of Discourses, and I ran across an argument that is oddly similar to the one in this video.
In Volume 2 of the Journal of Discourses, Brigham Young says
"The seed of Ham, which is the seed of Cain descending through Ham, will, according to the curse put upon him, serve his brethren, and be a "servant of servants" to his fellow creatures, until God removes the curse; and no power can hinder it. These are my views upon slavery."
Later, in Volume 14, he says
"In ancient days old Israel was the chosen people in whom the Lord delighted, and whom he blessed and did so much for. Yet they transgressed every law that he gave them, changed every ordinance that he delivered to them, broke every covenant made with the fathers, and turned away entirely from his holy commandments, and the Lord cursed them. Cain was cursed for this, with this black skin that there is so much said about. Do you think that we could make laws to change the color of the skin of Cain's descendants? If we can, we can change the leopard's spots; but we cannot do this, neither can we change their blood."
What neither Brigham Young nor Boyd K. Packer seem to understand is that the issue isn't about changing things. It's about affirming things the way they are. It's about changing our approach, not changing truth. Truth will defend itself. I agree wholeheartedly that gender (and I would include sexual orientation, which I think Elder Packer assumes as a part of gender) is an essential characteristic. In fact, it's so essential, that its denial results in extreme pain and depression (as any LGBTQ person who has tried to force themselves to live according to gender/sexual orientation stereotypes knows). The question isn't whether or not gender is an essential characteristic: it's whether or not our views on gender and sexual orientation match reality, just as the question never was whether or not we could vote to change skin color, but whether or not skin color even mattered.
Right now I'm researching doctrine and attitudes towards race and slavery in the Journal of Discourses, and I ran across an argument that is oddly similar to the one in this video.
In Volume 2 of the Journal of Discourses, Brigham Young says
"The seed of Ham, which is the seed of Cain descending through Ham, will, according to the curse put upon him, serve his brethren, and be a "servant of servants" to his fellow creatures, until God removes the curse; and no power can hinder it. These are my views upon slavery."
Later, in Volume 14, he says
"In ancient days old Israel was the chosen people in whom the Lord delighted, and whom he blessed and did so much for. Yet they transgressed every law that he gave them, changed every ordinance that he delivered to them, broke every covenant made with the fathers, and turned away entirely from his holy commandments, and the Lord cursed them. Cain was cursed for this, with this black skin that there is so much said about. Do you think that we could make laws to change the color of the skin of Cain's descendants? If we can, we can change the leopard's spots; but we cannot do this, neither can we change their blood."
What neither Brigham Young nor Boyd K. Packer seem to understand is that the issue isn't about changing things. It's about affirming things the way they are. It's about changing our approach, not changing truth. Truth will defend itself. I agree wholeheartedly that gender (and I would include sexual orientation, which I think Elder Packer assumes as a part of gender) is an essential characteristic. In fact, it's so essential, that its denial results in extreme pain and depression (as any LGBTQ person who has tried to force themselves to live according to gender/sexual orientation stereotypes knows). The question isn't whether or not gender is an essential characteristic: it's whether or not our views on gender and sexual orientation match reality, just as the question never was whether or not we could vote to change skin color, but whether or not skin color even mattered.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
I just finished talking to my two older sisters, and we had a really great conversation. I feel really good today. Overall, my family is extremely supportive. My sisters had a long conversation with my dad last night, and they said he was being much more rational. I probably over reacted yesterday, but understandably so; I was facing the biggest fear of my entire life. But hey, with that out of the way there's not much more to be afraid of, is there? That's exciting.
I forgot to mention that I published an anthology of my poetry called "Onward and Upward" on here a few days ago. You can take a look if you're interested. In other news, I've been doing research into the evolution of Church doctrine on blacks and the priesthood, inter racial marriage, polygamy, and the place of women in the Church. So you can expect to see some posts on those subjects coming soon. I've been searching through the Journal of Discourses and in early General Conference addresses, and I've found some rather interesting stuff. I'm excited to do more research and post more about it.
And now I've got to get to work. School starts next week, and I have lots to do before then.
I forgot to mention that I published an anthology of my poetry called "Onward and Upward" on here a few days ago. You can take a look if you're interested. In other news, I've been doing research into the evolution of Church doctrine on blacks and the priesthood, inter racial marriage, polygamy, and the place of women in the Church. So you can expect to see some posts on those subjects coming soon. I've been searching through the Journal of Discourses and in early General Conference addresses, and I've found some rather interesting stuff. I'm excited to do more research and post more about it.
And now I've got to get to work. School starts next week, and I have lots to do before then.
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