An English Christmas: King’s College

For a number of years, an important part of my personal celebration of Christmas has been listening to the live broadcast on Christmas Eve of the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s College, Cambridge. This program, which has been broadcast every year (save one) since 1928, is listened to around the world by millions of people.  When I tune in, I not only enjoy the beautiful music, but I also feel connected with people the world over, knowing that they are all listening to this lovely service at the same time I am.  For me, it gives new meaning to the phrase, “peace on [the whole] earth, goodwill toward men.”

Along the Wasatch Front, this program is always broadcast on KBYUFM at 8:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve morning.  It is also carried on many public radio stations throughout the United States, and no doubt on CBC in Canada.  

This particular service became an annual tradition in December 1918, shortly after the close of the devastation of World War I, which had cut such a wide swath through young English manhood.  It was even broadcast during the Second World War, despite the fact that the precious stained glass windows of King’s College Chapel had been removed to preserve them from possible bomb damage and there was no heating in the building.

The service traditionally begins with the voice of a lone boy (always chosen shortly before the service) singing the first verse of Once in Royal David’s City.  The following video captures this.  I hope you might have an opportunity to listen to this beautiful service and that it might enrich your celebration of the season.

Merry Christmas!

My Christmas Gift: Hidden Reverie

At the suggestion of an online friend, I have made a video entitled “Like An Angel Passing Through My Room,”  and I’d like to offer this as a little Christmas gift to those who frequent this blog. It is intended to be an artistic representation of hidden feelings I had as a gay man who repressed his sexuality for decades.  Thus the title, Hidden Reverie. 

The music that accompanies the images is a song that was performed by the singer Sissel when she was the guest artist several years ago at the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s Christmas concert.  That concert to me was … magical.  Sissel’s voice has a transcendent quality about it – lovely and pure as a mountain spring – which is appropriate since she is Norwegian.  This, combined with the emotion she put into every number made the evening unforgettable.

One of the highlights for me of that evening was her rendition of Like An Angel Passing Through My Room.  She explained during the concert that the song was intended to evoke the image of a quiet reverie on a dark winter’s evening.  The live performance was transportive, and as I contemplated my life as closeted gay man, it seemed to speak to me of those years of secret thoughts and desires.

So, I offer to you this little video, thinking perhaps it might strike a chord with some of you as well. 

The David and Michael Show

I was extraordinary lucky this year to obtain tickets to two different performances of this year’s Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas concert featuring guest artists David Archuleta and Michael York.  The choir was good, so far as that goes, but the highlights of the concert were the performances by David Archuleta and British actor Michael York.  My personal favorite was The Cat and the Mouse Carol, a sweet new song that was sung by David with great tenderness.  (I predict this will become a new Christmas favorite.)

Now, the readers of this blog, particularly the younger ones, will likely readily agree that David Archuleta is a heartthrob – both for girls and for guys.  I have read blogs of some young MoHos, for example, where crushes on this teen idol have been frankly acknowledged.  It’s not difficult to understand why with his boyish good looks and sweet personality:

Both of these were on display at the concert, but I think it could be said that his looks are maturing quite nicely, and that he is becoming even more attractive as he ages (pictured below at the concert).

But what is almost certainly not known by our younger brethren (if they’ve even heard of him) is that Michael York (lead-in picture to post) was, in his day, another heartthrob.  Although I acknowledge that it might be difficult to believe (especially given Michael’s appearance at the concert), in the late 1960’s and throughout the 70’s, he was considered something of a sex symbol.  He was in a number of films during this period.  Here he is in Zeffirelli’s production of Romeo and Juliet as Tibalt:

Later, he appeared in Cabaret with Liza Minnelli and Joel Gray, playing the role of a young gay British student in Germany:

The following year, he played D’Artagnan in The Three Musketeers, opposite Raquel Welch:

And a few years later came his role in Logan’s Run, a B-grade science fiction movie.  Here he is on the cover of an entertainment magazine dating from 1976.

Why am I going on about this?  You guessed it:  because in my adolescent years, I had a crush on him.  So, as I saw him brilliantly perform his dramatic readings at the MoTab concert, I didn’t really picture the 68-year-old man, but rather the Michael York of my young teenage years when I was first awakening to my sexuality and thought he was pretty darn good-looking (or as we would say today, "hot").

Coming Out to My Son

I came out to my 20-year-old son on Saturday.  Another Rubicon crossed.  I had been waiting for him to return home after being out of the country for several months, and I was hopeful, yet apprehensive:  hopeful that he would take it well, but apprehensive that he would not. 

I am very close to my son (whom I call Justin), and my relationship with him is one of the treasures of my life.  (Which is why I chose the above picture as the lead-in for this post: I felt that it reflected this love and because, in my mind, even though my son is 20, I still picture him at times as the little boy I once carried on my shoulders.)  I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that relationship, but I knew I had to tell him because of the situation that exists in our home right now: when he left a few months ago, everything was “fine” between my wife and me; when he arrived home, I had moved into the guest room and there was (and is) a distinct chill in the air between my wife and me.

I also wanted to tell Justin because I felt that, because of our relationship, I simply couldn’t pretend that everything was the same.  I had changed a great deal while he was away, and I wanted to be honest and open with him about the cause of these changes. 

So, I had decided some time ago that I was going to tell him as soon as possible after his arrival back home.  On Saturday, we arranged to go to lunch.  I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to approach the subject.  With my daughter who is two years younger than Justin, the decision had been made for me (as I related here).  With Justin, that wasn’t the case.  How does one broach such a subject? 

As I cast about in my mind for a “hook” – a way to launch into these unknown waters – it occurred to me to begin the conversation by discussing how my attitude towards the Church had changed while he was away – something I had mentioned in several e-mails to him over the past few months.  This turned out to be an inspired approach. 

As we headed toward the place we had chosen to eat, I started off by stating the obvious:  things were “different” between Justin’s mom and me.  I told him I wanted to explain what was going on and how we had arrived at that point.  I reviewed what had been happening over the past few years between my wife and me and, in particular, discussed how my feelings toward divorce had evolved (a topic for another post sometime). I also talked about some “epiphanies” that I had experienced this past summer (also a topic for another post) that had helped me to understand some things about myself (and which had prepared the way, I am convinced, for my eventual coming out).

I then segued into a discussion of how these changes had affected my attitude toward the Church and had led me to question a lot of things – not so much my “testimony,” but more my feelings about the role of the Church in my life.  This, in turn, led right into a discussion of President Packer’s talk at October Conference.  Without having previously mentioned anything about homosexuality, I simply read (I had pulled over to the side of the street by this point) the offensive passage from Packer’s talk. 

I then took a deep breath and told Justin that I had known since I was 12 that I was attracted to men.  After that point, I’m not sure exactly what I said, except that I know I told my son that I am gay, that hearing Packer’s talk had caused an eruption within me that had practically forced me to finally accept this about myself and to finally stop hating myself because of it.  I described how I had decided to come out to my sisters, then to my wife.  I described her initial reaction, then the events that followed, leading up to her unequivocal “request” for a divorce.

By the time I had launched into this part of the discussion, I don’t think I could have stopped if I had wanted to.  As all of this came pouring out of my mouth, I occasionally glanced over at my son to make sure he didn’t have a look of disgust on his face.  He didn’t.  What I saw was a look of intense concentration.  When I finally stopped talking and looked at him and asked him “what he thought,” he simply said, “Dad, I will always love you.” 

We reached over and hugged each other as we sat in my car, parked on the side of a busy street.  He then continued, “This will have absolutely no effect on our relationship or what I think of you, Dad.  When I think of my Dad, I think of the times, starting when I was little, of when you played ball with me in the back yard, and when you brought me home candies from your office.  Those are my earliest memories of you.  You have always been a special person to me, Dad, and you always will be.  I love you.”

Of course, by this point, I’m not ashamed to tell you, I was pretty blubbery.  Justin then said something else that warmed my heart.  “I think that part of the reason that I don’t have a problem in accepting this,” he said, “is because of the way I was raised.”  Those of you who have read my post about being outed by my teenage daughter may recall that she said much the same thing:  because my wife and I have tried to raise our children to be open-minded, tolerant and accepting of others, including gays (in no small part because they have a close family relation (besides me) who is gay), she and Justin both felt that it was easy to accept this revelation about their father.

Justin said other things, as did I, before we finally continued on our way to lunch.  I expressed to him how much happier I am now – despite the difficulties between my wife and me – and how I believe my coming out will allow me to be a better father because I will be a much happier person. 

We discussed the realities of the current situation and what will likely lie in the future – all of which he is okay with.  I had been somewhat concerned that the “break-up” of our marriage might upset and depress him, but such was not the case.  So much has happened in his own life in the past couple of years that he had already let go of the “perfect picture syndrome” – i.e., the belief that, if the façade of the perfect Mormon family cracks or shatters, life will no longer have meaning, will be over and cease to have lost meaning.  We are both on a journey – Justin and me -  and we are both creating a new meaning in which the Gospel has and will have a place, a role; but neither of us are quite sure at this point what this role with look like.

Knowing that my son knows and that I have his love and support is tremendously empowering to me.  This gives me added courage to continue down the path on which I have embarked.  The journey continues …

Advent Memories – A French Christmas

Ever since I spent a Christmas in France while on my mission, certain French traditions and music have been part of my annual holiday experience.  On this last Sunday of Advent, I thought I’d share a few memories from that special Christmas, along with some of the traditions and music that have enriched my appreciation of Noël.

I was in a provincial town that December as the holidays approached.  I wasn’t really homesick at all, but I did miss Christmas music. I finally decided I just had to go out and buy a cassette or two of Christmas music that my comp and I could listen to on our el-cheapo tape player in our apartment.  Of course, there were no Bing Crosby tapes or anything else I would have been accustomed to in the U.S.  But I was pleased when I found a tape by a singer that I had recently seen on French television while at an investigator’s apartment:  Nana Mouskouri.  She was a Greek singer who had recorded music in just about every one of the European languages, including French.  I had never heard of her before, but I learned that she was something of a superstar in Europe at that time.

One of the songs she had recorded on my cassette was Petit Papa Noël – the first time I had ever heard this well-known French children’s song that is sort of the equivalent of our Jolly Old St. Nicholas and Here Comes Santa Claus.  (In France, Santa Claus is called Père Noël, or Father Christmas.  For children, he becomes Petit Papa Noël.  He is pictured in the above photograph, taken on my mission, distributing gifts to children.)  One of the things that is charming about this song is that it is written as a prayer by little children who, on a snowy Christmas Eve before turning in for the night, offer one last petition to Father Christmas to not forget their little house.  They acknowledge their foibles, but hope he with forgive them.

Petit Papa Noël has been recorded by many other artists, most notably by Josh Groban on his recent Christmas CD.  But because I first heard this song as sung by Nana Mouskouri (and in honor of my new friend who has a Greek connection), I am including below a video of Nana singing this classic French Christmas song  (the clunky glasses, by the way, are her trademark):

About a week before Christmas, I was transferred to an area near Paris – close enough to enjoy the amenities of the City of Light.  A day or two after I arrived, my comp took me to see the sights and sounds of the city at Christmastime.  We walked by Galeries Lafayette – Paris’ answer to London’s Harrods – and a sight very similar to this one greeted us:

Near there, for the first time in my life, I saw chestnuts being roasted.  I had always had such a romantic notion of this due to the American Christmas song, but frankly, I could hardly stand the smell!

We then went to the Champs-Elysées, where we were greeted with a sight very similar to this one near the Arc de Triomphe:

Later, on Christmas Eve, our ward arranged for us to pass the evening with one family, then be invited to another members’ home the following day for Christmas dinner.  Both were memorable occasions.

In the years that have passed since my mission, I have cherished the opportunity which I had to imbibe a bit of the French culture, particularly during that special Christmas season.  This experience was subsequently enlarged as other people close to me forged additional ties to France and the French culture.  My sister, who lived in French-speaking Switzerland for a dozen years or so, started annually sending me another addition to a growing collection of Santons – hand-made crèche figurines popular in Provence that represent not only the traditional manger scene, but also all the various artisans of the typical Provençal village.  The ones she purchased for me look very much like these:

Other people in my circle, both old and new, have served in the Geneva Switzerland Mission and forged ties to the region of the French Alps and to eastern France and to French-speaking Switzerland.  In honor of these persons, I was going to close this post with a slide show I prepared to accompany Placide Cappeau’s beautiful poem set to music, Minuit Chrétiens (O Holy Night), performed by L’Accroche-Coeur Vocal Ensemble of Fribourg, Switzerland. 

Due to technical difficulties with Blogger.com, however, I was unable to post this.  In its place, I am highlighting yet another of my French connections, this to French-speaking Canada.  Below is a video of a more modern rendition of Minuit Chrétiens by French-Canadian chanteuse, Marie-Élaine Thibert:

Family: Hammering Away at Our Souls

Today’s post continues a discussion about issues involved in mixed-orientation marriages and the relevance of these issues to both gays who are currently in MOMs as well as to single gay Mormons who are perhaps wondering about the possibility of eventual marriage to a woman.

I want to again thank those who contributed comments, both publicly on the blog and privately through e-mails.  After yesterday’s post, I received one such e-mail from a young gay Mormon who didn’t think he should comment on the blog because he didn’t want to inject his comment into what he perceived to be a discussion among men in MOMs.  After reading his e-mail, I wrote to him and told him that, quite to the contrary, I think this discussion is extremely relevant and important to young Mormon men who are perhaps considering the concept of marrying a woman, thinking that perhaps they could find a degree of happiness in such a marriage.

With his permission, I am quoting from this man’s comments:

“I've only dated one girl in my life, and we were together for about a year and a half. I still feel like you and all that have commented on your last couple of posts have described how I felt in that relationship. I was hoping desperately that one day I'd wake up and *click* I'd be in love. But that never happened. I loved her, but wasn't "in love" with her …

“I guess the point in emailing you is to let you know how relevant the MOM discussion has been for me. In that relationship, I was determined to just make it work, because I'd never dated before, and didn't know what a relationship was like. I was disappointed because all I was ever told about how great relationships are seemed to be false. I felt unauthentic, guilty, ashamed, broken. I wanted to be in love, but I wasn't. My willpower to resist and maintain my identity was slowly sapped away. When we finally broke up, I was broke up, because my identity as a straight guy was shattered. She was the foundation of that facade. (Of course, that wasn't her intention, she just was.)

“Every once in awhile, that little voice sneaks into my brain and tells me that I should give dating girls another try. I could make the relationship work, and eventually marry. It tells me I could be happy, and maybe I would for a short period of time. But I think what makes me gay is, not only am I attracted to men, but my long-term happiness can only be sustained by one. In short, I want to be happy, and I think God wants me to happy to. So will I ever get married to a woman? I don't think so.”

I personally found it very interesting that he used terms in describing his courtship that sounded eerily familiar to those that Mark and I have used to describe some of our feelings:  “I felt unauthentic, guilty, ashamed, broken … my identity was slowly sapped away.”

Another commenter, Martin, wrote of the struggles he had in his MOM, which ended in divorce:  “There was practically no opportunity to gain perspective, living behind the Zion Curtain (sorry, Utah County). The script screamed to us, over and over, of what we must look like. And so, we hammered away at our souls, efforts made daily that did nothing to stem the flow of futility from our core desire to love and be loved.”  I found the phrase, “hammered away at our souls,” so compelling that I used it as the title of this post.  I hope Martin doesn’t mind.

I also hope Martin doesn’t mind that I recast slightly and present here his beautiful, insightful and thought-provoking prose about his identity as a gay Mormon:

I Stand As a Witness

I was not formed

To fit inside of a proclamation.

Rather, I am an explanation point,

Waiting to be examined

In all my complexity.

Not as part of a myriad of rows

Of Dutch tulips stand I.

Rather as a wonder of God's creative juices,

Humiliated not by the consternation of man.

Humbled by my own contemplation:

That this creation

Can never be reformatted

Into the image of your Thou.

Instead, it is I who must remain.

Your thorn.

My identity.

His work.

And somewhere in that intersection

Lies a brave new friendship.

Thank you, Martin, for sharing these beautiful thoughts and feelings.  I hope you will share more of your thoughts in the future.

Lastly, I wanted to address some comments that Cj shared about romantic love and marriage.  With respect to yesterday’s post, he said he agreed with “the post and some of what’s been written.”  He then went on to express his opinion that marriage is more than romantic love, that a relationship involves more than just focusing on one’s own needs, and that in order to “make it work,” one needs to focus on the other partner’s needs through selfless love.  I think this is a fair summary.

Well, (the other) CJ posted her thoughts on Cj’s comments, which can be read on yesterday’s post, and I would recommend reading them, because I think she makes some valid points.

My response to Cj’s comment basically comes from a different angle.  I agree with the theory behind Cj’s comments, but I don’t think they are applicable within the framework of the discussion about mixed-orientation marriages.  Cj disagreed with the Beatles that “Love is all you need.”  I agree with him! 

Many gay Mormon men enter into a MOM thinking that “love is all I need,” thinking that if I just work away at this hard enough, if I am selfless enough, if I focus enough on my wife’s needs, I can make this work.  But this is a fallacy.  In my opinion, in many if not most instances, love will never be enough in such a marriage, and the end result of selfless devotion to a marriage that is doomed never to be truly fulfilled and fulfilling is the death of self (to one degree or another).

This is not to say that MOMs cannot “work.”  As has been discussed this past week, each MOM is different and is the product of a number of different factors, including in no small part the willingness of the man to forego fulfillment a fundamental element of his nature and identity.  I respect each gay man’s individual journey as he comes to terms with his MOM in a way that is authentic for him. 

However, it simply will not do to cast such a soul-wrenching process as a struggle between focusing on one’s own desires versus selfless dedication to the marriage.  This facile paradigm is simply not applicable to the terribly complex dynamics of a mixed-orientation marriage and, in my view, does a disservice to the men who struggle daily with the issues that have been described over the past few days.

It is also my view, with sincere respect for Cj and his views, that his concluding comment also represents an insidious fallacy, particularly in the Mormon world.  He wrote:  “When both partners are selflessly focused on each other, that's when marriages make it.”  This is what we are taught in the Church.  And there is some truth and validity in this statement – when it is applied to a straight marriage or even to a gay marriage (as Cj points out).  However, in the context of a mixed-orientation marriage, it is, to one degree or another, a death sentence; for this approach, this mantra, requires that both the husband and the wife kill part of themselves for the “greater good.”  The marriage becomes a mutual suicide pact, rather than an agreement to affirm the best in each other and create something new and beautiful out of the freely-given contributions of each partner.

I will reiterate that I honor, understand and respect the views and comments of gay Mormon men who are committed to making their MOM work.  But I think it is critically important that the issues involved in mixed-orientation marriages be faced and discussed critically, honestly and openly.  And this process in part involves recognizing and rejecting fallacies that, while perhaps applicable to straight marriages, contribute to and mask the destructiveness of mixed-orientation marriages.

I could write more, but I think I'll leave it there for today. 

Family: Necessary, But Not Sufficient

This post continues the discussion that has evolved this week on mixed-orientation marriages (MOMs). This is a conversation that is highly relevant, not only for gay Mormon men who are currently in a MOM, but also (I would submit) for any young single gay Mormon man who is wrestling with questions concerning family, how the “Plan of Salvation” applies to someone like him and whether marriage to a woman might be desirable despite an attraction to men.

Yesterday’s post generated only a few comments, but – wow! – what comments!  I want to thank CJ for what to me were the amazingly insightful and articulate comments she has left over the past few days, and particularly for the one she left yesterday.  Though, as she states, she is not gay and is very happily married to a man (kudos!), she has experience with her own family and friends who have struggled with their orientations and have worked toward and have found fulfilling relationships. 

I would submit that one does not necessarily have to be in a MOM to make highly relevant comments concerning marriage, such as these by CJ: “Nobody needs to settle for a relationship that ‘can work out fine’”, CJ wrote yesterday.  "We all deserve--and can achieve--a relationship that makes your toes tingle …”  I have to pause here I say that I love that turn of phrase:  a relationship that makes one’s toes tingle.  I’d like to take a poll of my readers and ask how many have been or are in such a relationship? (HINT.)

“I can't even begin to imagine,” CJ continued, “how painful it must be to be married to someone you can love, but can't be *in love* with.”  [Ok, this is getting a little uncomfortably close to home.]  “All that foundational material--shared goals and values, etc--is as they say in the legal world, necessary but not sufficient. Whatever it is that creates the mutual love and dependence of a fulfilling relationship can only grow, I think, between a couple who can truly, truly be *in love*.”   

Wow!  If these comments aren’t food for thought, I don’t know what is.  Obviously, I have freely cribbed from CJ’s comments to come up with the title of this post, and I have chosen to do so because I think that this pithy little phrase succinctly captures what, for many of us, is a defining characteristic of a MOM.  (I won't comment further on this; I'd just invite readers to ponder it.) And how painfully truthful is her phrase “ … someone you can love, but can’t be *in love* with.”  Truth is sometimes extremely painful, but only when it is faced and embraced can it cleanse, purify, enlighten and empower.

CJ’s comment was followed by a beautifully articulate commentary by Mark, who has been in a MOM and speaks from first-hand experience.  For those who haven’t done so, I would highly recommend reading his entire comment, as I am only going to focus on a few select gems, such as this one:  “Unfair compromises,” he wrote describing his marriage, “were made on nearly a daily basis where someone else got to win and I lost a piece of my soul, bit by bit, day by day until I was empty … What kind of compromise on my part had been so important as to render me emotionally and romantically impotent?”

I can “testify” of these feelings.  I particularly loved Mark’s use of the phrase “emotionally and romantically impotent,” which precisely characterizes how I came to feel about myself after struggling for years to fulfill what I perceived to be my duty in my MOM.  The more I attempted to “do the right thing” and to love my wife as I felt she should be loved, the more impotent, depressed and discouraged I felt. 

I finally came to the same conclusion that Mark has expressed:  “While some remain in MOMs and are finding happiness, unless rigorous honesty and intent are present, where BOTH the husband and wife's needs are honored, I can see no point being in the marriage. If shame is the tool by which the gay partner's sexuality is still being managed, ultimately that partner is still dying inside, their self is being rejected and they are merely biding their time until the day when they feel worthy to be loved; loved in a way that fulfills them, sustains them and transcends like no other love they've felt.”  I can certainly understand and relate to Mark’s comments about using shame to “manage” gayness in a MOM, and the effects that this has on one’s sense of Self.  I cannot yet comment on his concluding comments, though I can imagine.

A couple of comments were left on my Facebook page by men who are or who have been in a MOM.  After reading yesterday’s post, one man wrote, “Have you been reading my journal again??? You once again are writing my story.”  To this, another man responded:  “With a few disparate details, he’s writing all of our stories!”  As I wrote in reply to these remarks, comments such as these indicate how much commonality there is among the experiences of gay men in MOM.  To me, this in turn indicates a high level of truth in what we are experiencing or have experienced – an extremely relevant fact both to those in MOMs as well as to those who are trying to understand them.

Lastly, a comment was left by a father whose daughter is married to a man whom the father suspects is gay.  He posed a very valid and pertinent question:  How fair is it to the straight spouse to continue in a MOM where the man knows he is gay?  Quoting Mark’s concluding words, this man asked, “How fair is it for the partner who doesn't feel ‘worthy to be loved, and loved in a way that fulfills them, sustains them and transcends like no other love they've felt’? … If [my son-in-law] is gay, I can't help but feel resentment towards him for staying married to [my daughter] when neither of their needs are really being met. My daughter deserves pure passion like her husband does. What happens next?”

Indeed, what happens next?  This man raises, to put it mildly, an extremely valid question.  I don’t have an answer to this question (and I invite, even solicit, comments in this regard), except to say that questions such as this raise issues of morality – of a morality that calls upon us to transcend pithy, Sunday School-esque, overly simplified, black and white answers out of the Gospel playbook. 

Questions such as these force us, who may be accustomed to wearing a ready-made suit of morality off the “Mormon rack,” to realize that the ready-made suit doesn’t fit, that we must examine these issues in a manner to which we may not be, and probably aren’t, accustomed.  This may very well (and likely will) seem uncomfortable, even frightening; but I submit that we have to move “outside the box” to ask hard questions of ourselves whose answers can only come out of ourselves, and to confront larger issues involving honesty, integrity, fairness and love. 

This does not mean our religion, our belief structure, cannot inform this process.  However, I would submit that it is in honestly confronting such questions and seeking answers thereto, that it is in bravely moving outside the box to stand naked before God (and ourselves), that we will not only find enlightenment, but also discover the ennobling power of grace that reveals Self, exalts our humanity and brings us (authentically) closer to God.