Thursday, March 24, 2011

Voices: An Overwhelming Emptiness



Today’s post contains the words of “Dave.” yet another gay Mormon in a mixed-orientation marriage (MoM).  From time to time, I receive e-mails or messages from men such as Dave who have read something on my blog that resonates with them. The thing that stands out about Dave’s story that he has shared with me is that it is so similar to the many other stories I have read or heard. 

I believe it is very important that stories such as Dave’s be shared, both to give him and men like him a voice, and also to continue to educate others as to the types of emotions and conflicts that men like Dave experience as they agonize over making sense of who they are and what that means in terms of their marriage and the life they have lived as they have struggled to “do the right thing.”  

It is also important anecdotal evidence that there are many, many men in the Church who are in a similar situation.

“I've been reading your blog with great interest, but to be honest, it scares the hell out of me. One reason for my fear is related to the progression that many MOHO blogs take. I began reading your blog and Joe Conflict's blog by starting at the beginning. Reading about other MOHOs' journeys is scary because I'm at the first stages of this journey, and I see where many others end up (a place I've denied as a possibility because my life is spent in denial in order not to hurt my spouse and young children).

“Like many other men who grew up in religious households, I didn't come to terms with my attraction to men until well after I was married. I've spent years in the cycle of self-hatred caused by the mistaken belief that these attractions could be overcome with faith, diligence, obedience, etc. But several events caused me to say enough is enough. Nothing has changed my attraction to men and I'm no longer going to deny it or feel bad for having these feelings. I choose to accept my sexuality as it is.

“But I don't know what that means for the future. And although my initial decision to accept my sexuality was a relief, I now fear what comes next. But I know I can't live with this pain and sadness any longer. The emptiness I feel is often overwhelming and I can't imagine that my sadness is not affecting all the people I hope to protect by living in denial ...


“Several months ago, my wife was out of town and I watched the Prop 8 documentary. I knew it would be biased, but what struck me more than anything was seeing two Mormon men who love each other, but whose love is repudiated by the Church and its teachings. I spent several days thereafter looking at blogs about gay Mormons, including listening to the three-hour interview on Mormon Stories that details one man's therapy journey, as interviewed by his former therapist. For the first time, I heard someone else describe the feelings I feel, and which you described today on your blog - a longing to fill the emptiness inside me that is far beyond a sexual attraction or a visual attraction to men.

“As a result, I chose to stop spending my free time surfing porn, but rather to address these feelings head-on. I also re-read conference talks about homosexuality and listened to the church leaders state that they don't ask anything of gay members that isn't expected of single members. ‘That’s not true!’, my soul cried out. ‘The Church asks its gay members to accept a hopeless future. No hope of dating someone they're attracted to, no hope of marrying someone they have a natural attraction to, not even the notion of seeking such a relationship or the basic things non-married hetero members are encouraged to do.’

“With these feelings and reactions raging, my wife returned from her trip, and although I'm sure she could tell I was deeply depressed, she didn't ask any questions. (By now we're both good at denial).  You see, I told my wife about five years ago about my attraction to men. I talked to my bishop and sought counseling thru LDS social services - but I didn't continue therapy long before deciding that it was a waste of time to listen to a social worker push the church and Evergreen's theories about causes of homosexuality and cures. I also told myself that I could ignore these feelings, and if able to control my desire to view porn, the feelings would go away. Of course they didn't.


“Last month, I decided that I needed to seek professional help from a therapist with experience in this area, and chose a non-Mormon therapist. So far, it's going ok, but slowly. I haven't told my wife that I'm meeting with a therapist - mostly because I'm avoiding all the issues this will raise. My commitment to her for the last 14 years has been chaste - I have never cheated in any way, with the exception of consistent pornography issues. (Oddly enough when I decided to face this situation head-on, my desire to view porn vanished).  At the same time, I'm worried that exploring my sexuality raises so many questions. I don't want to hurt her and I do love her and our children. I don't want her to doubt my love. I don't want her to worry that I will leave. I don't want our children to grow up with divorced parents. But based on the blogs I've read, I can't guarantee that our separation isn't a possibility.

“So, a couple of questions - I told my therapist that I want to know if there is a way to be happy but stay married. He suggested that being honest about my sexuality with myself and others is a first step. But will that lead to happiness? Right now, I'm on the edge of crying very often. I'm just trying to keep it together. Do you think it's possible to live in a heterosexual marriage if one is gay or bisexual and be happy?

“My marriage is fairly good; we are good friends, we don't fight much, we love each other, but the emotional love isn't there. We have a decent sex life, but it often feels like we're roommates. We rarely hug or kiss; I’m told that I give off a vibe that I don't want to be approached. I know this is different for everyone, but if you were in this situation, do you think you would choose to stay? One big question in my mind is whether I'll be any happier if I leave and seek a male mate? Will the possibility of finding happiness be worth leaving my wife and kids behind? Will accepting my sexuality and being honest with myself and others be enough to fill the gaping hole in my chest?”


So, dear readers, please support Dave by responding to his questions and giving him some food for thought:

- Will be honest about his sexuality with himself and others lead to happiness?

- Is it possible to live in a heterosexual marriage if one is gay or bisexual and be happy?

- If you were in his situation, what would you do (keeping in mind that there are obviously dozens of factors of which we are unaware and that each and every mixed-orientation marriage has its own unique dynamics)?



Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Dear Anonymous: Understanding What it Means to be a Gay Mormon



Give therefore thy servant an understanding heart …
~ 1 Kings 3:9

This is my seventh letter to Anonymous.  For those who may not have read the previous posts, these letters were prompted by an individual whose comment, posted on my blog two weeks ago, struck me as representative of thinking among many members of the LDS Church with respect to being gay. Even though Anonymous subsequently identified himself as “Bryan” in follow-up comments, I have continued to address these letters to the many anonymous Mormons whom I believe hold beliefs similar to those underlying Bryan’s comments.  

The following was Bryan’s comment (the gist of which being that that I should go back into the closet because 20 years of “sowing wild oats” was not worth giving up “exaltation”):  “Sincere question for you here … Assuming you're 45, and will live to be 76, you're approximately 60% of the way through your life. Up to this point, you've been a faithful member of the Church, paid your tithing, etc. So, you've only got 40% of life to go and if you can just keep on the path for that last stretch, you'll very likely receive exaltation and be together with your family, as the LDS Church teaches.  On the other hand, if you choose to live a homosexual lifestyle, you've got, on average, 31 years (assuming you're 45) left. Keeping in mind that after 65 you're pretty much "old" (no offense intended) which brings the "wild oats" years down to roughly 20. Are those 20 years worth it … [i.e.,] worth what you're giving up?”

Today’s letter addresses a subsequent comment by Bryan, when he asked “why I am doing what I am doing”, and it also discusses some of Bryan’s other further comments.

___________________________

Dear Anonymous,

This letter is addressed to some of your follow-up comments you have made to my previous letters, starting with a question you posed in response to my fourth letter. Even after writing several posts in which I expressed my own personal witness that one doesn’t choose to be gay, one just is; after explaining why a gay man can’t really pretend to be something he’s not without incurring (and perhaps inflicting) emotional and psychological damage; after explaining that being gay is about much more than attraction and certainly about much more than sex, that it is about experiencing a full gamut of emotions; after all this, you still wrote, as a comment to my fourth letter, “I don't really know why you're doing what you're doing.”

I will try to be more direct in my response this time I will begin by being even more personal than I have been in previous letters.

President Packer’s Talk and What It Meant

My world changed forever on Sunday, October 3, 2010.  That morning, I heard four sentences that caused an irreversible, uncontrollable tectonic shift deep within me.  These words, which quickly became infamous, were uttered at the Church’s October General Conference when President Boyd K. Packer, in the midst of a talk about moral purity, read the following sentences:

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

These four sentences cut through my heart, as they no doubt did countless other Mormon men and women who are painfully struggling, totally alone for the most part, in the hidden chambers of their innermost soul … with what is commonly referred to as “same-sex attraction.”  Not only did President Packer call me, and those like me, “impure and unnatural,” he poured salt in open wounds by saying, in so many words, that God would and could never make such a depraved person as me, and that God didn’t love me for who I am – that even before GOD, I could not be my true self because my true self was not acceptable. 

Then, as if this wasn’t enough, there was the added injury caused by thousands of Mormons who “rallied” to President Packer’s side to “support” him, revealing the wide and deep homophobia that exists in the Church.  Many of these people, who obviously believe that they are not required to be “Christian” toward homosexuals, vilified gays with such choice comments as the following:  “If the church ever allowed gay marriage, then the church is not true,” and “Thank you President Packer … even though the wicked fight against you.”


In the moments, hours and days that followed General Conference, I realized that I was no longer willing or even able to repress who I am, that my homosexuality is a fundamental part of who I am as a person, that I was tired of feeling guilty and dirty about it, and feeling, in President Packer’s words, “impure and unnatural.” 

In the days and weeks that followed General Conference, my resolve hardened:  I was NOT going to crawl back in my hole where I had lived for most of my life!  I was going to affirm who I am:  a man who did not choose to be gay, but was born that way; a man who had spent most of his life denying and trying to hide not only his natural sexuality, but also multiple facets of his identity and personality that were bound up with this sexuality. 

I swore that I was going to shed the false persona that had controlled my life; that I was going to cease living as a cardboard cutout, as someone who was simply going through the motions in life. After nearly a lifetime of despising myself, I was instead going to affirm and embrace who I am and – yes – LOVE myself for who I am.

This, Anonymous, is why I am “doing what I am doing”.  I could no longer live a lie.  In this past Monday’s post, I described in some detail what living a lie meant to me, as well as to my wife and my children. In my post yesterday, I described some of what I have been feeling these past weeks and months:  “Since starting the coming out process, and particularly since moving out, I have had experiences which have brought me happiness and even joy – a joy that I could not comprehend while living in the closet, a joy that I feel in my heart comes from fulfilling the measure of my creation.  There have been occasions, during this last while, when I have felt like I can be myself and when I get in touch with myself.  All the pretense has fallen away, and I'm often surprised at who “comes out” at such times, i.e., the gay man that I’m just getting to know - a part of me that's been carefully hidden for decades, who only now, at certain times and in certain situations, feels safe in coming out.  Then, joy has come, and I have been surprised.” 

When I first came out to my wife, it was not my intent to end my marriage; I merely wanted to honest with her.  The fact is that I did not choose to end my marriage; my wife did.  We had been having serious marital problems for several years and had been close to divorce more than once.  My admission that I am gay was the last straw, and she soon thereafter asked for a divorce, to which I was more than willing to agree.  If the price of staying married was retracting my admission that I am gay and going back into the closet, I was unwilling and incapable of paying that price.  My wife was unwilling and incapable of moving forward without me paying that price, so our marriage has come to an end.

Ears to Hear What President Packer Said

Anonymous, in your first subsequent comment, you stated, with respect to President Packer’s comments, that in your view, “President Packer's quote condemned ONLY the action, not the individual who, through no fault of his own, had the attraction.”  I strongly disagree. Packer’s spoken words (as opposed to the edited text) speak for themselves, and those who have ears to hear heard what he was saying.  I wonder if you can bring yourself to hear what we heard? 

What did we hear? First of all, in Packer’s statement about “tendencies toward the impure and the unnatural” we hear him say that same-sex attraction and homosexuality is “impure and unnatural.” He wasn’t speaking of homosexual sex. He was speaking of “inborn tendencies.” By calling that to which we as gay men are naturally inclined, “impure and unnatural,” he was calling us impure and unnatural. You can quibble all you want about what you think he meant or what we should have heard, but this – if you are interested – is what we heard.  

We also heard him scoff at and utterly reject (“Not so!”) the concept that being gay is inborn. The implication (particularly in the larger context of his talk as a whole) was that being gay is a choice, and that anything that affirms, or any steps taken to affirm, one’s gay nature is wrong. 


But President Packer didn’t stop there. To “prove” his point, he uttered those infamous words, “Why would Heavenly Father do that to anyone?”  If he had possessed a single understanding, empathetic bone in his body, he would have known that thousands of gay Latter-day Saints have painfully, heart-wrenchingly struggled with precisely that question, to which there is no answer. He would have appreciated how searing those words would be to such members of the Church who have bloodied their knees seeking an answer to this question, to which there is no answer. He would have perhaps understood the additional shame and condemnation that such a comment would have inflicted. He would perhaps have foreseen that many, like me, would have heard such words as a statement that God would and could never make such a depraved person as me, and that God didn’t love me for who I am – that even before GOD, I could not be my true self because my true self was not acceptable.

Anonymous, having described the effect that President Packer’s words had on me and having conveyed what these words meant to many of those in the Church who struggle with “same-sex attraction," I would hope that you would thereby develop an understanding and appreciation of “where we are coming from.”

However, if such understanding cannot come to you or to others, I would thereafter express my belief that it will not do for Church members - who close their hearts and minds as a result of a knee-jerk reaction to “defend” and “support” President Packer - to pretend that he said something else. It will not do for such members to say that thousands of their fellow Church members, not to mention thousands of non-members, are mistaken in what they heard, that their feelings are not real or valid, that they have no right to be hurt, disappointed and angry. It will not do to simply label fellow church members as apostates and to thereby feel righteously justified in simply dismissing such persons’ legitimate thoughts, feelings, reactions, experiences and testimonies. It simply will not do. Not any longer.

Understanding vs. Merely Asserting  

Anonymous, I have gone to great lengths, throughout the course of this “correspondence”, to describe to you the challenges faced by gay members of the Church, of which I am one. I have tried, in a respectful and civil way, to point out and counter the fallacies, misconceptions, false premises and prejudices, concerning homosexuality and their gay brothers and sisters, that exist in the minds and hearts of much of the general membership of the Church – which were unfortunately bolstered by President Packers’ remarks at last October’s conference (even though other Church leaders thereafter tried to “soften” them).  In so doing, I haven’t simply made statements and asserted them as truth. Rather, I have tried to provide explanations for my positions with a view to trying to increase understanding.

You, on the other hand, have for the most part simply restated your positions without acknowledging what I have written. With respect to the term “gay lifestyle”, for example, I went to some lengths to explain why this term is offensive. Your response, however, was to simply make the following statement:  “There IS a straight lifestyle, just as there is a homosexual lifestyle.Pursuing or maintaining relationships of a heterosexual nature is living a heterosexual lifestyle. Replace "heterosexual" with "homosexual" and the same is true.” 

Well – as the saying goes - says you; but that don’t necessarily make it so. Among other things, what troubles me about your response is that there does not appear to be any willingness on your part to understand, only to assert

You also stated that you do not believe that same-sex attraction - “as a general proposition” - is a choice and that you believe that same-sex attraction, while “part” of identity, it is not the “entirety” of our identity. On what basis do you make this judgment? Furthermore, from these comments, I am left to wonder when, in your mind, you believe same-sex attraction is a choice. 

As to the issue involving attraction and identity, I will refer you to my letter of last week in which I discussed the issue of attraction and how this concept is used to “compartmentalize” homosexuality. Furthermore, if you stopped to think about how much the concept of male-female attraction defines and shapes the average modern North American adult’s identity and life (and indeed our entire culture), you would perhaps begin to understand how wrong it is to try to bifurcate attraction and identity when it comes to same-sex attraction. Again, I ask, is there a willingness to try to understand, or simply a desire to assert?


Understanding doesn’t necessarily imply agreement, but you apparently feel that empathy and understanding might weaken your argument – because you definitely appear to have an agenda. This becomes evident when, for example, after making the above statements concerning straight and homosexual (is the choice of the word “homosexual” over “gay” deliberate?) “lifestyles”, you make the following declaration:  “Both are voluntary choices.”  And that appears to be your end goal, i.e., to prove that gay is a choice, thereby attracting moral culpability.

This letter has ended up being far more lengthy than I had originally envisioned. That being the case, I will save for my final letter a discussion of your comments about where I and other commenters “are” with respect to the Church and a more general discussion of what the Church means to gay Mormons.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Where I’m At: Growing My New Gay Skin


A friend pointed out to me over the weekend that I haven’t been writing much about what’s been going on in my life lately.  As I reflected on this and recent events in my life, my thoughts turned to a post I wrote back in early January called “What Does It Mean to be Gay?”.  I have recently reread that post, and I was surprised by the insights and counsel that the man I was then has offered to man I am now.  I’d like to quote some parts of that post and relate it to what I’m learning and going through right now.

“My gay identity” has been submerged and hidden for decades. It has never, in point of fact, been allowed any kind of manifestation that remotely resembles open, adult and real expression.  I have grown into adulthood and lived most of my life with an integral part of myself bound and gagged in the basement, so to speak. Some guy masquerading as a heterosexual with all kinds of hang-ups has been playing out my life – the life the guy in the basement was supposed to be living.

“For 20+ years, I have pretty much defined myself as a husband, a father and a member of the Church (with all that this entails). Because of who I was when I got married, I totally bought into this and willingly donned this identity, wearing it to the exclusion of anything else – until I realized I couldn’t do it anymore. But the point is, I think, that this was a ready-made identity.  I didn’t have to create an identity; I just wore the one I had …

“Now, however, I must forge my own identity … my gay identity is not something I can “put on”; rather, it is something that must grow organically out of me, like a new layer of skin. Somewhat like the “inner child” that is often spoken of in psychological therapy that is there in the psyche, hidden away, waiting to be released – in me is also the gay person that has always been there, but never allowed expression ... This is going to take time. It will sometimes be uncomfortable. It will sometimes be anxiety-provoking.  But it will – hopefully – produce real and lasting results.”

Almost three weeks have now passed since I moved out of the family home.  Over 2-1/2 months have passed since I wrote that post. During the period between writing it and moving out, I had a number of experiences that enabled me to begin to learn what it means for me to be gay. However, it has really only been since moving out that I feel that I have really begun making progress in growing my new gay skin.

True to my prediction back in early January, growing this skin has sometimes been anxiety-provoking and disorienting. I described this phenomenon in an e-mail to a friend late last week:  “I had been feeling a little weird [last night] … I think I was kind of missing my kids and feeling a bit of disorientation, which comes over me from time to time like a wave of nausea. It passes, but while I have it, I kind of feel sick at heart and in mind. I let things get to me … which normally wouldn't get to me.

Growing a new skin, forging a new identity, is not an easy task. That’s one reason why I am so grateful for the group of gay friends that I have. We had a party on Saturday night to celebrate me moving on with my life, and it was really great to be able to celebrate with these friends and to thank them for the tremendous difference they have made in my life in just a short three month-period.

Surprised by Joy

But, with the disorientation and anxiety also come periods of happiness and even joy. Yesterday evening, I went to the quarterly forum of The Family Fellowship (an LDS support group for families with LGBT members) and was privileged to hear a presentation by MaryBeth Raynes, a social worker and therapist who has almost 35 years of experience working with members of the LGBT community in the Salt Lake area. 


Among the many thought-provoking comments Ms. Raynes shared were some relating to the concept of shame.  She talked about how so many of the gay Mormon (particularly young) men who come to see her carry deep levels of shame, to the point where, instead of seeing problems in their lives, they see themselves as the problem. Such people, she said, are so deeply enveloped in shame that they find it impossible to experience happiness except perhaps in brief moments that are soon re-enveloped in shame.

I could relate to what she was saying, as this has been my experience for most of my life. But since starting the coming out process, and particularly since moving out, I have had experiences which have brought me happiness and even joy – a joy that I could not comprehend while living in the closet, a joy that I feel in my heart comes from fulfilling the measure of my creation. 

There have been occasions, during this last while, when I have felt like I can be myself and when I get in touch with myself. All the pretense has fallen away, and I'm often surprised at who “comes out” at such times, i.e., the gay man that I’m just getting to know - a part of me that's been carefully hidden for decades, who only now, at certain times and in certain situations, feels safe in coming out. Then, joy has come, and I have been surprised. 

Enriched

Another important element in growing my new gay skin has been to (finally) take advantage of opportunities to both feed my spirit and get in touch with my inner self through culture. On Friday evening, a good friend and I went to see the spring concert of the Orchestra at Temple Square. That same friend and I went to a play the previous weekend, and we are planning to see a musical this coming weekend. 

On Sunday, another friend and I went to mass at the Cathedral of the Madeleine. I was trying to think as we were driving there if I had ever attended a mass since joining the Church over 25 years ago, and I came to the conclusion that I had not. It was therefore extremely interesting for me to go into that beautiful church and sit prior to the commencement of the mass, looking at the stained glass windows, at the paintings on the walls and ceilings, at the stations of the cross that lined the walls on either side of me, all the while listening to the magnificent prelude music coming from the organ.  Then came the main reason I had wanted to attend mass there – the entrance of the Cathedral choir. Listening to their beautiful music throughout the mass was nourishing for my spirit. 


But beyond all of this came the peculiar spiritual feelings as I was transported back to the faith of my childhood and youth. I was amazed at what came back to me, the remembrances of certain responses, the sung Lord’s Prayer, the feelings I had as a child when I felt close to God. All of these memories and feelings wafted in and out of the chambers of my heart and mind during the course of the mass.

Attending these concerts and mass has nourished that part of me that for so long craved experiences such as this. So many times, for example, I have wanted over the course of the past 15 years or so to attend Madeleine Festival concerts or the Eccles Organ Festival concerts, or various concerts on Temple Square, but did not do so because my wife wasn’t interested. Now, I can freely nourish all those bits of me that I repressed years ago because I thought they were too close to my gay center.

Post Script:  Picked Up

This blog has been a tremendous outlet for me since coming out, but has also opened up a wide variety of opportunities to meet people, share ideas and – perhaps, in a small way – make a difference. 

I was therefore very pleased this past week when I was contacted by an individual who maintains a website devoted to the arts in the Berkshire Mountain region of western Massachusetts. He had read my review of Trembling Before G-d, a documentary about the experience of gays and lesbians within Hasidic and ultra-orthodox Jewish communities, and was intrigued by my comments about the parallels between the experiences of queer Hasidics and those of gays and lesbians who come out of the Mormon experience. He asked for and received my permission to essentially re-post my review on his website in advance of the film being shown at Williams College in connection with a visit by the film’s director, Sandi DuBowski.  

It’s always flattering to be picked up like this and to see how my scribblings in the shadows of the everlasting hills reach wider audiences. It serves as an inspiration to me to keep moving forward into my new world, discovering, reading, watching, pondering.  



Monday, March 21, 2011

The Toll: Inside a Mormon Mixed-Orientation Marriage


“Losing you [when you joined the church] was like a guillotine blade that beheaded the loving richness I had in my life.  [After you joined the church] I saw you withdraw from life. The relationship between your withdrawal from life and your involvement in the church appeared to be proportionally related: the more you became fervent about the church, the more withdrawn and less talkative and sadder you became.

“It was surely due to the instinct for survival that you beheaded your true self, or tucked him away under the folds of your memory and heart. In order to survive and achieve a happy life that the church promised to be yours after so much trauma, guilt, shame and lack of love [in my childhood and youth], you had to get rid of your Self. As you couldn't actually kill that self, you had to pretend that it never existed.”

So wrote my sister last fall after I began the process of coming out.* Her very astute perceptions about what happened to me when I converted as a young adult validated very strongly what I already knew. I sensed this even while on my mission, which I served after joining the Church. But this realization was locked away a long time ago and frankly took a back seat to the consequences that flowed from my decision to reject my gayness and abandon much of my old self when I got married. 

I use the term “reject” deliberately.  Paradoxically, it was on my mission that, for the first time in my life, I came the closest to truly accepting my gay identity and choosing to live life as a gay man.  I also felt that, toward the end of my mission, I was starting to recover some of who I was before I joined the church.

Then I came home and embarked upon an extremely tumultuous “courtship” with the woman who became my wife.  One of the reasons for the tumult was my struggle over what to do with my life:  gay or straight; active Mormon or leave the church; married or not married?

Ultimately, I made my choice:  heterosexual; married; Mormon.  I knew I was gay; my wife knew (before our wedding) of my “struggles” involving “attraction to men.”  However, in getting married (and buying into everything that went along with that) I felt that I was making the “righteous” choice, i.e., the choice sanctioned by God and his church.  I would get married because it was the “right thing to do”; and, similarly, I felt I could reject my gayness and repress any homosexual inclinations because that, too, was the “right” thing to do.  I had decided that I wanted to, and could be able to, function as a righteous heterosexual priesthood holder should.

I did not then realize the toll that this choice would exact upon me and – ultimately – upon my wife as well as my children.



I use the word “toll” deliberately, in the sense of one of its definitions:  “a grievous or ruinous price.”  Only after coming out, in hindsight and after finally accepting who I am, did I begin to understand the nature and extent of this price – the price I paid to deny and betray my true sexual identity, and the price I paid upon abandoning many aspects of my identity. 

In turning away from my true sexual identity, I think – subconsciously – that my gay self felt that it had been betrayed. It had emerged to some degree on my mission, but now it was to be repressed and discarded, not only temporarily, but forever. But one cannot deny the essence of who one is and remain healthy, mentally, emotionally and even physically. Perhaps for a time; but not, I have learned, in the long run.

Though consciously I felt like I was willingly making this choice, it was only after coming out that I started to realize how deeply that betrayal of my gay self affected me subconsciously.  It created a tension in the very core of my being that gradually built up resentment and anger, continually being added to and hardening like the dome on a volcano. In retrospect, I now clearly see the presence of constant pressure, which made day-to-day life a challenge, difficult, frustrating, void of happiness, full of stress. This pressure would also build up and erupt from time to time, expressing itself in anger that, combined with the after-effects of child abuse, made for a toxic mix.

The situation might have been different if I had not been on the “priesthood path” – if there had not this constant pressure to be a model husband, a model father, a model provider, and a model priesthood leader, i.e., if I had had just a little more freedom to be me. But I was determined to do everything expected of me, everything asked of me, in order to prove (to myself, ironically) that I could overcome my “same sex attraction” and be a “faithful” “worthy” priesthood holder, a successful Mormon husband and father.  I became my own worst enemy.

As it was, my rejection of my gayness was virtually complete and total as I steered clear of any “distractions” (i.e., any situation that would in the remotest degree entice or tempt me to indulge to the slightest extent my gay self).  Meanwhile, the subconscious pressure created by the truly existential bind I had put myself in manifested itself in migraine headaches, irritability and a general sense of deep unhappiness.

However, in addition to this “existential bind” resulting from a betrayal of my gay self, I now see that I also abandoned many other aspects of my identity at the time of my marriage. Because I felt the need to commit myself heart and soul to the marriage, I felt that I not only needed to repress the gay me, but I also had to abandon many other aspects of what had been my identity. 

Why? Because the old me – the one who loved music, drama, art, literature, history – was tainted with homosexuality.  The presence of the old me would only have been an embarrassment; he would have been a third wheel in our marriage, out of place in the “new order of things.”


How a third wheel?  Well, letting go of my old identity, I embraced a new one.  My wife and I really had very few things in common; our interests are quite different, even divergent.  The one thing we had in common when we got married was a belief that we were “supposed” to get married to each other, along with a belief that as long as we remained faithful in the church, everything would work out. 

The situation might have been different had my wife been interested in the same things I was, but she was not.  If I had not been determined to do practically whatever it took to make my marriage a success (partly because of my parents’ failed marriage, but also to “overcome” the “gay factor”), if I had not had the specter of my homosexuality always in the background, threatening to “out” me and destroy my celestial marriage (perhaps it was my gay self, seeking revenge), then I never would have subjected myself to this abandonment of my old self.

I now realize the toll that this abandonment exacted.  Subconsciously, it created another huge conflict that only added to the conflict I felt after betraying my gay self. 

Looking back on it, I can see how much I subconsciously raged against this abandonment.  I had abandoned my “core,” but yet I raged against feeling that I had to adopt someone else’s core as my own.  I raged against feeling like I had to be a certain way in order to be accepted, to be true to the path I had chosen.  Yet I had to be accepted in order to fulfill the path I had chosen.  It was a hopeless conflict that played itself out day after day, month after month, year after year, adding to my sense of unhappiness, alienation and lack of fulfillment, exacting a terrible toll.

Let me state plainly that I am not blaming my wife for any of this.  No.  This was my problem, my fault.  And I am not prepared to say that getting married was a mistake, nor am I saying that my marriage was all bad; far from it.  But, in terms of my identity, my psyche and, as a result, the mental and emotional health of me and my family and children – in terms of all this, my decision to get married took a dreadful toll.

So, where did I go upon coming to these realizations?  Well, I began.  I began by deciding to affirm my sexual identity instead of continuing to try to repress and deny it. 


I then began the process of trying to recover my identity – the person I was before my marriage, then the person I was before I joined the church, and – ultimately - the person I was or might have been, but for the abuse I suffered as a child. Next comes the process of mourning and healing:  mourning lost opportunities, mourning unintended consequences of living a lie, mourning pain inflicted on others as well as self. Then, hopefully, healing.

Meanwhile, I am grateful for the strength I have found inside myself as I have begun this journey.


*A version of this post appeared this past Saturday at Main Street Plaza http://latterdaymainstreet.com.


Sunday, March 20, 2011

Gay Gospel Doctrine Class: Eyes to See and Ears to Hear


Today’s lesson (#11 in the GD Manual) focuses on the parables of Christ and was prepared by Clive Durham, with an Introduction and Postscript by Invictus Pilgrim. 

Introduction

I am not in the habit of quoting Bruce R. McConkie, but I did find the following to be an insightful description of the nature and purpose of parables:  “Parables are a call to investigate the truth; to learn more; to inquire into the spiritual realities, which, through them, are but dimly viewed. Parables start truth seekers out in the direction of further light and knowledge and understanding; they invite men to ponder such truths as they are able to bear in the hope of learning more.” (The Mortal Messiah, Vol.2, p.245)

Today’s lesson merely skims the surface of the rich mine available to all through study of and reflection upon the parables of Christ.  In Matthew 13, Jesus himself explained the purpose of parables:  to give eyes to see and ears to hear.  Through the rich symbolism of the parables, we are encouraged to look at the world around us in a different way, a more insightful way, in order to discover truths that are there for those who look and listen. 

And we shouldn’t look to find “the” meaning of parables.  For if we go down this road, we will miss the lessons that are hidden in such parables for us.  Remember Nephi’s counsel:

I did liken all scriptures unto us, that it might be for our profit and learning.
1 Nephi 19:23



Background

Christ was a great teacher. He spoke directly, quietly, simply, in a way that conveyed complex concepts understandably. He taught sophisticated truths to humble people in a manner that not only achieved understanding, but secured commitment from those he taught.

Today’s lesson deals with Christ’s favorite mode of instruction, the use of parables. Indeed, nearly one third of his New Testament teachings were in the form of parables.

According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, a parable signifies in general a comparison or parallel, by which one thing is used to illustrate another. It is intended to stir curiosity and requires the listener to exercise some degree of intellectual analysis to derive its true meaning. It is this effort that in the end builds faith and strengthens testimony of the truths the parables are intended to illustrate.

While the use of parables has a long Jewish tradition, Christ capitalized on this tradition to teach powerful lessons about concepts central to the Gospel message. It should be noted that most Christian authors view these parables not just as examples to illustrate God’s plan for his children, but as actual witnesses of God and the spiritual world that surrounds us.

With regard to his rationale for teaching in parables, Christ used a parable to explain. This explanation is found in the parable of the sower.

“That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore. Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear.” Matthew 13:1-10 NIV.

Curious as to why he used parables to teach, the disciples asked him directly. His reply is revealing and profound.

“Because the knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them … This is why I speak to them in parables: Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand … “But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear. “ Matthew 13:11-16.

Simply put, Christ taught in parables to accomplish two ends. First, he wished to conceal deeper truths from unbelievers that he knew would reject his word. Second, he wanted to teach revealed truth to believers using metaphorical tools that he knew they would understand.

To interpret parables accurately it is important to first determine the central truth the parable is attempting to teach. To do that, it is necessary to understand the parable within the context of Jesus’ time. Words, phrases, and experiences may, taken out of the context of Jesus’ time, be entirely misleading.

At the same time, we must avoid the urge to over-analyze the parable. While there may be a propensity to attach symbolic meaning to minor details, these details are usually offered by the Savior to complete the storyline and typically have no deeper spiritual significance. Attaching meaning to these symbols would transform the parable into allegory, undermining and denigrating the impact of the parable itself.

Sharing the Truth about Being Gay

With that as background, it’s time to get to the bottom line. How does all of this apply to those of us who (as Anonymous/Bryan so eloquently assured us this past week) are “choosing” the “gay lifestyle”?

To me the lesson is fairly clear. Following Christ’s example, we must teach the truth. We must stand as witnesses of that truth about ourselves and our lives at all times and in all places. We must be willing to kindly yet clearly spread the Good News that being gay is a gift from God, that we are worthy men and women who are created in His image, that He loves us and answers our prayers, and that this knowledge brings us joy.


We must constantly be searching for the right way to spread the truth. Sometimes it might be in parables, allegory, or analogy. Sometimes it might best be shared directly, simply, sincerely. The important point is that for the Spirit to bear witness of this truth to those we teach, it must be shared with kindness, meekness and love, avoiding contention, anger and conflict.

My gay brothers and sisters, it is time for each of us to step from under the shadow of complacency and fear. It is time for each of us to stand in the light of day and speak clearly, thoughtfully, with the conviction of our cause. There are many among us in our community who have long shouldered the burden of truth and to them we owe a great debt. As a result of their efforts, the world has changed from the way it was.

But more change is required.  It is time for all of us to step out forcefully, fearlessly, united in our cause. As the world sees our numbers and our virtue, it cannot help but appreciate our value.

The alternative is unacceptable. If we fail to take up this challenge, others (like Anonymous/Bryan) will continue to spread misunderstanding, falsehood, and bigotry, even hate --unopposed.

Postscript

Again, I think the challenge for us who are gay and are Mormons of various stripes is to look at the parables in a way that we most likely haven’t previously.  We have heard “official” interpretations over and over again in lessons and over various pulpits.  But the time has come for us to liken these parables to us and find out what messages there may be for us.

By way of example, I’d like to quote from an article  found on www.whosoever.org, a website devoted to support of Gay Christians.  This article stresses the importance of what we can learn from the parables about “being present”:

“Jesus understood the importance of being present. Every moment of his life was dedicated to being present with people in their pain, their suffering and their joy. He often berated his disciples for missing the point -- for not being present with people. Instead they would whine about how much time Jesus spent with the people or wish to send people away when they became annoying.

“Jesus expressed the importance of being present by using parables. The parable of the sower is a valuable example of being present. In Matthew 13, Jesus tells about seeds being sown -- some land on rocky ground, others among thorns and still others on good soil.

“Those sown on rocky ground hear the word but fall away at the first sign of persecution and trouble because they have not roots. Seeds that fall among thorns yield nothing because they get caught up in the cares of the world and forget the word. The seeds that fall on good soil will bear fruit -- because they hear the word and understand.


“The metaphor is unmistakable. Those who live in the future live on rocky ground -- they have no roots. They are always thinking about "one day" when they will be happy, "one day" when they will have abundance, "one day" when they will have the perfect partner. Still others find themselves among the thorns of the past. They cannot see themselves clear of the cares of their inner world where their "remember whens" overwhelm their future and their present. But, those who fall on good soil realize that the "word" is the present moment. The "word" gives them life -- it speaks to their innermost being, sprouting strong roots and bearing good fruit.

“What we all must realize is that we are all planted in the good soil. We only need to realize the power of the present moment to begin growing our strong roots and bearing the good fruit of a life that is vital, alive and awake! Those who find themselves in "bad" soil are not predestined to a terrible fate. All they must do is realize that they too can claim the good soil of the present moment and flourish.

Another example of looking at parables from a fresh perspective, particularly thought a “gay lens” comes from Daniel HelmIniak, of whom I have previously written on my blog.  A former Catholic theologian who is gay and has ministered to the gay community for decades, Helminiak has written of a hunger for spirituality in the gay and lesbian community despite the rejection by mainstream religion. He believes gays and lesbians already have a deep understanding of spirituality:

"There is a lot of honesty and goodwill in our community. That is the core of spirituality. We are a good people. We'd have to be honest to do what we're doing. It would be much easier to cop out and pretend and go along with the rest … What I do in my book is spell out the criteria for what is healthy spiritually … It will help the gay community to recognize the fact that we're okay, to rejoice in the spiritual sensitivity that's already there …

"For the gay and lesbian community, which has felt rejected by religion from the start and still feels condemned, many have left religion but still seek some spiritual sustenance. My approach allows gays and lesbians to develop a whole spirituality."

That whole spirituality is based on what Helminiak calls, "human authenticity."   Helminiak points out that a complete spirituality is more than just a belief. He cites the parable of judgment in Matthew 25:34-45 “[Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me”] and comments, "What's fascinating is that the people who are being praised did not even know of Jesus. What mattered was how they acted. That's spirituality, whether it has to do with God or not," Helminiak observed.


"There's something basic to being a human being that requires us to be open minded, willing to question and pursue things, to marvel to be in awe, in reverence, to be honest about things to be good-willed," he continued. "That to me is the core of spirituality. That's what leads people to talk about God. If you take marvel and awe to its ultimate conclusion then you realize that we stand before absolute mystery. People will call that mystery God."

Speaking of those who have been outcast, for some reason which I cannot articulate, I feel impressed to conclude this lesson with the following song.  I hope it will be meaningful to someone “out there” in light of what has been written here.