Jimmy Creech: A Prophetic Voice Affirming Gays and Lesbians

Jimmy Creech at the Regulator Bookstore in Durham, NC.
(Photo by Natalia Weedy.)

In May 1984, a closeted gay man in a small town in southeastern North Carolina went to see the pastor of his United Methodist congregation.  The man – “Adam” – was upset and announced that he was leaving the church.  When the pastor asked why, Adam replied that he could no longer be part of a church “that thinks that I’m some kind of pervert.”

In the exchange that followed, the pastor – Rev. Jimmy Creech – learned that Adam was gay and that he was upset at the new policy, just adopted by the United Methodist Church, which prohibited the ordination and appointment of “self-avowed practicing homosexuals.”  “I don’t want to be ordained,” Adam said. “But I don’t want to be told I can’t be because I’m gay.  I’m just as moral as anybody, just as good a Christian.”

Before that meeting, Rev. Creech had not known any “self-avowed practicing homosexuals.”  After that meeting, he would never be the same.  Creech later wrote:

“That morning, Adam revealed to me a hidden world of oppression in which people who are gay, lesbian, transgender, or bisexual suffer an insidious violence disguised as Christian morality that attacks their very beings, their very souls.  It’s a reality created and sustained by the claim that gay people are sick, sinful and criminal, a claim that is declared to be God’s truth in pulpits, courtrooms, workplaces and schoolrooms …The cruelest aspect of this hidden world is that gay people internalize these demeaning proclamations and hate themselves for simply being who they are.  It’s a world they cannot escape and have little defense against, except to hide their sexuality and pretend to be someone they are not, or to end their lives.”

Jimmy Creech cared enough about Adam that he decided he couldn’t simply sit back and do nothing.  He challenged his own conventional education, religious upbringing and beliefs and began an intensive study of what the Bible did and did not have to say about homosexuality and researched the latest scientific findings concerning homosexuality. 

As a result of his Biblical studies and other research, Rev. Creech came to the conclusion that it was unjust and immoral for the church to maintain anti-LGBT policies and positions.  In the years that followed, he became an outspoken advocate of gay and lesbian rights within his own United Methodist denomination as well as the Christian community generally. 

Rev. Creech’s official ministry as an ordained Methodist minister came to an abrupt end in 1999 when he was “defrocked” in the second of two trials conducted by the Methodist Church in the late 1990’s.  He was put on trial the first time for conducting a covenant ceremony between two lesbians at the church in Omaha, Nebraska where he was then pastor, and his second trial resulted from him participating in a similar service involving a gay couple in North Carolina. 

 After he was expelled from the ministry, Creech joined the board of Soulforce – an organization that resists religious and political oppression of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) people through dialogue and creative forms of nonviolent direct action – where he served as Chairman for five years.  (Readers of this blog may recall when Soulforce’s “Equality Riders” paid a visit to Brigham Young University.)  Creech remains active in several organizations that campaign for LGBTQ equality and has recently published an account of his life and ministry, Adam's Gift which opens with that meeting in 1984 and culminates in his second trial and its immediate aftermath.

Up until a few weeks ago, I had never heard of Jimmy Creech.  I was traveling in the East and read an article about him in a local paper and was intrigued.  The next morning, I visited a local bookshop and saw a flyer indicating that he would be doing a reading and book-signing of Adam’s Gift the following evening.  I purchased a copy of his book and began reading, looking forward to meeting him the next day.

Speaking as someone who has not only lived in the closet his entire life (until a few months ago) but has also lived the relatively insular life of an active devout Mormon, I was frankly “blown away” as I read Creech’s book, starting with the account of his investigation of the Biblical passages that are usually used to bash gays and of what modern science is contributing to a better understanding of homosexuality.

“It is not behavior that determines and defines a person’s sexual orientation.  Rather, sexual orientation is an essential aspect of personality that predisposes a person to be sexually attracted to one-or both, in the case of bisexuals – of the two genders, whether or not the person is sexually active … Orientation does not begin and end with sex acts.  It is a constant and vital part of who a person is, encompassing erotic attraction, affection, and bonding, as well as genital activity.”

Wow!  To see that in print, written by a ordained minister in a mainline Protestant faith, was indescribably affirming to me after living in a faith/church for most of my adult life that has denied that “sexual orientation” even exists!  I felt like I had just gulped in fresh, clean air after having been locked up in an airless crate.

Creech then goes on to describe how, once his intellectual and theological barriers to an acceptance of homosexuality had fallen, he then had to face and overcome another barrier:

“… the emotional resistance of my culturally conditioned assumptions about healthy sexuality, assumptions shaped more by fear and misinformation than by knowledge and understanding.  Deep within my psyche, fighting against my new knowledge, as an irrational revulsion to the idea of men having sex with men … It would take much more time and work before this barrier would fall, too.  That would happen because of the humanity, dignity and integrity of people like Adam whom I would get to know.  Books changed my mind.  These people changed my heart.”

Jimmy Creech at a Soulforce event in Lynchburg, Virginia in 1999
(Photo from Soulforce Archives)

The people who helped change Jimmy’s heart were initially located in Raleigh, North Carolina.  A few years after his meeting with Adam, he became pastor of a large Methodist church in Raleigh.  Here, he put his newly acquired knowledge into action.  He marched in his first gay pride parade.  He helped found the Raleigh Religious Network for Gay and Lesbian Equality.  He met and ministered to men dying of AIDS.  He worked to make his own congregation more accepting and welcoming to members of the LGBTQ community, but was ultimately dismissed from his position as pastor.  He then worked with the North Carolina Council of Churches for several years, focusing on LGBTQ issues, before being asked to become pastor of the large First United Methodist Church in Omaha, Nebraska.

The bulk of Rev. Creech’s book deals with the time he spent in Omaha, including the events that led to his two trials, the trials themselves, and the immediate aftermath of his ejection from the ministry.  This account was interesting in its own right, but what I found compelling and incredibly enlightening and empowering were his statements concerning the morality of “heterosexism” – a term used to describe “a system of attitudes, bias, and discrimination in favor of opposite-sex sexuality and relationships.” [1]. These statements included the following, which formed part of his response in connection with his first trial:

“It is my belief that the position taken by The United Methodist Church regarding same-gender unions, as well as that regarding ‘the practice’ of homosexuality, is wrong, unjust, discriminatory and inconsistent with the spirit of Christ and our Wesleyan and Methodist traditions …

“Sexual orientation is not a moral issue; it is morally neutral.  Sexual ethics are simple:  sexual relationships should be mutual, non-exploitative, nurturing and loving.  What is immoral are unequal, exploitative, abusive and unloving sexual acts toward another person.  This is true regardless of the orientation of the persons involved.  I believe that sexual activity which is considered moral when practiced by two people of different genders, is no less moral when practiced by two people of the same gender …

“I believe that the sin of heterosexism is no less a sin that that of racism.  While some of the dynamics may be different, they are fundamentally identical in nature as an expression of a dominant culture over another.

“Just as it was the church in the South that perpetuated racism so that slavery and white supremacy could have legitimacy, the Christian church has been responsible, more than any other institution, for perpetuating the sin of heterosexism as a form of control over what is feared within all of us:  the mystery of human sexuality and intimacy (sexual or non-sexual) with persons of the same gender.”

Wow! 

Jimmy Creech during the Millenium March in Washington in 2000
(Photo by Chuck Phelen)

We who are part or have come out of the Mormon tradition think of the term “prophet” in a unique way:  we automatically think of the president of the LDS Church, and we usually associate the term “prophetic voice” with a “voice of warning”, i.e., a statement that typically warns of undesirable results if the Lord’s commandments are not honored and obeyed. 

In the traditional Christian church, however, there is a different connotation associated with the term “prophetic ministry.”  As one definition has stated it, “Prophetic ministry involves incorporating God’s reign of compassion, justice, generosity, and joy into personal values and actions, institutional structures, and governmental policies. It includes leading congregations to be alternative communities that look and act like God’s reconciled and redeemed community where “the orphans, widows, and strangers” are welcomed at God’s table of peace and abundance.” [2]

Or as has been expressed by Creech’s own United Methodist Church:

“The Church, throughout history, has maintained that faithful ministry must be prophetic. The church must not be afraid to boldly speak its ‘convictions … to the church and the world’ ... Active participation in social ministry and advocacy for social justice are deeply rooted in the history of the United Methodist Church … Methodism's founder John Wesley preached boldly in the public square against slavery, beverage alcohol, war, and economic injustice … In the 19th century faithful Methodist women and men followed Wesley's lead in opposing slavery, and in organizing the temperance movement … In the 1950s and 60s, faithful Methodists demonstrated and worked tirelessly for civil rights for all Americans in a time of widespread segregation and blatant racial injustice.

“History has proven that many positions taken by the church through the years, though often controversial in their day, have been proven with time to be both right and just. As the Body of Christ we are called to be bold witnesses, not just to one another, but to the world; to proclaim the good news of God's grace and call, not just in the church but also in the public square; to witness to society not only when it does right but also when it does wrong. This is our prophetic call.” [3] 

It is in this tradition that Jimmy Creech has raised a prophetic voice, calling for equal treatment of ALL of God’s children, boldly denouncing, even at the cost of his calling as congregational pastor, injustice and immorality.  It is a voice that brings hope and light to dark places, a voice of love, affirmation and compassion to those who often face misunderstanding, rejection and hate.  It is a voice, I would suggest, that reflects the true love of God and a voice from which gay and lesbian Mormons could profit and learn.

Creech concludes Adam’s Gift with a truly prophetic statement that calls each one of us to assist in its fulfillment:

“Gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people will be successful in attaining full civil and human rights and social acceptance because of those among them who believe in their inherent dignity and integrity and have the courage to let the world know who they really are … It’s a gift that all lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people have to give.  And by giving it, they change the world for good.”

I submit that the voice that Jimmy Creech raises is one that needs to be heard by us who are gay or lesbian and who come out of the Mormon tradition.  It is a voice of affirmation and acceptance: one that we are not accustomed to hearing.  The perspectives that he shares are ones we need to contemplate; they are ones to which we are not normally exposed.  The love that he preaches and the equality that he demands are our birthright; we need to claim them.  In so doing, we can change ourselves, our church and our world for the better.

"In my Father's house are many mansions ..."

A Home I Never Knew I Had

I continued to make huge strides this past weekend in my coming out process.  It wasn’t that I told anyone else that I am gay.  I didn’t make any announcements.  But I came to a place in my heart, previously undiscovered, where I found acceptance, affirmation and love, which in turn allowed me to embrace who I am in a way I had not previously been capable of.  It was as if I was discovering a home I never knew I had.

What led to these discoveries, to this acceptance, affirmation and love?  Travelling to St. George to help prepare for and attend Equality Utah’s First Annual Equality Celebration in Southern Utah.

It was a last minute thing.  When I was in St. George a month ago with the Salt Lake Men’s Choir, I was invited by new friends to come back for this event; but things didn’t work out, and I thought I would have to pass. 

I was bummed about this, partly because I had fallen in love with what little I saw of St. George while there for the choir trip.  Though I have lived in Utah for over 15 years, this was the first time I had been to southern Utah (as difficult as that may be for native Utahns to believe).  I grew up in the East, the land of green trees and verdant fields, and I had never before felt any attraction to the American Southwest, land of adobe, rocks, cactus and sand.   Thus, whenever I had heard anyone rave about St. George, I had simply dismissed it. 

That was before the choir trip.  As I wrote here, I was greatly affected by that trip, and I sensed a strange connection to that place.  I was surprised and a little bewildered, because I hadn’t expected to like Saint George.  Instead, I found myself falling in love with it. 

Since I thought I wouldn’t be able to attend, I had put the Equality Utah event out of my mind.  But then last week, another new friend who was also involved in planning the event invited me to come down for the weekend and stay at his place, and he also arranged for me to ride down with some friends of his. 

In my “old” life, I wasn’t very good at handling “surprises” or sudden developments such as this, no doubt a manifestation of the rigid, controlled conformity I had imposed upon myself.  But, for some strange reason, spontaneity has started to come much more easily to me since coming out.  I fairly easily overcame the obstacles that my mind threw up, and I was ready to ride.

One of those obstacles was putting myself in a situation where I would be in a car for several hours with two strangers.  This isn’t something I would have readily done prior to coming out.  I was somewhat apprehensive as I waited at the designated meeting place for the straight couple I would be riding down with, but not nearly as much as I would have been a year ago. 

As it turned out, “Doug” and “Karen” were a very personable couple, very outgoing and friendly. We were hardly on the road before I was asked if I had children, then how many, where I lived, etc. – all normal questions upon meeting someone new in the Mormon world.

I didn’t have a problem talking about these aspects of my life.  I told them a bit about my children, and it wasn’t too terribly long before I reached a point where I brought up what I had mistakenly assumed they already knew, i.e., that I am gay.  I had assumed that my friend “Dave” would have told them, but as soon as I said, “I assume that Dave told you that I am gay,” I realized that, of course, Dave wouldn’t have done this.  He would have left it to me to say.  And the looks on their faces told me that, indeed, Dave had not told them this. 

After we all got over the initial shock and awkward moment after I had matter-of-factly said, “I assume Dave told you that I am gay,” I told them my story.  They were very receptive and understanding:  within the past year or so, several of the husband’s friends had come out to him, and they had discovered that others in their circle of family and acquaintances are gay.  To their credit, they had spent the past year reviewing and revising long-held ideas and attitudes, opening themselves up to new understandings about homosexuality and what it means to be Mormon and gay.

This was an important exercise in openness and honesty for me.  It was the first time that I had found myself in a social situation with straight people who didn’t previously know me, where my gayness was front and center.  I didn’t try to hide it, and I have to say that I was rather proud of myself for putting “it” right out there.

I still struggle to get the “g[ay]” word out sometimes, but it is becoming increasingly easier with time and practice, and the weekend to come made a huge difference in my ability to not only admit that I am gay, but to state and affirm that I am gay; and beyond that – which is what really matters – to affirm that I am a person of worth, worthy of my own love and the love and affection of others.

Dave told me that it would be a working weekend, and he was right.  I spent the entire day Saturday out at the venue site northwest of St. George.  The dinner would be held outdoors, and there was a lot of work to be done, unloading and setting up tables and chairs for 275 guests. 

As I worked, I met and had a chance to talk to and get to know several people.  It was such a nice feeling to be outside on a beautiful sunny day, talking to other gays and lesbians (as well as straight people), hearing a bit of their stories and simply being – living in and enjoying the present.  A couple of the people I met are truly extraordinary, and I had the feeling that I had known them somehow, somewhere; there was a connection I can’t explain or describe.  (And no, I don’t believe we knew each other in the pre-existence.)

I experienced a feeling of lightness of spirit, a feeling that I had rarely experienced in my life: a feeling of happiness.  At times, I looked up at the blue sky and the red rock cliffs and thought, “Man, this feels so good to just be here, to be helping with this event that celebrates who I am.”  In those moments, and in others throughout the day and evening, I began to feel like I was truly coming to the home I never knew I had – the home where I can truly be who I am and live who I am.  (For, despite all my efforts, I have to admit that I don’t think I ever really felt “at home” in the traditional Mormon home and family that I had worked so hard to create with my wife.)

Then, that evening, both before and after the dinner and program, I met several more people with whom I enjoyed talking.  This doesn’t sound particularly extraordinary, does it?  But it was – for me.  In the past, I HATED cocktail parties and business receptions.  I hated making small talk and wasn’t particularly interested in getting to know people.

On Saturday night, however, it was different.  I actually enjoyed meeting people, talking to them, getting to know something about them and sharing things about me.  I wasn’t hiding behind any walls or masks.  I could totally be who I am, and that ability put me at ease and enabled me to enjoy others – just as they are.  It sounds totally hokey, but it was an AWESOMELY COOL experience – literally a first for me, which is pretty exciting considering how many miles I’ve put on as I’ve traveled the roads of life.

These and other experiences over the weekend have taken me to a different place than I was a week ago.  I have found a place in me I never knew existed, a home I never knew I had; and it feels … amazing, wonderful and exciting.  As I said to my sister the other day, I haven’t started a new chapter in my life; I’ve started a new book.

Where I'm At: Coming Out at Work and Moving On

I came out this past week to my boss.  I had been contemplating taking this step for some time and had decided to do it before the end of this month.  It’s not that I felt I had to tell him; I had decided that I wanted to.  As I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I’ve arrived at a point where I want certain people to know me for who I really am. Because of my relationship with certain people in my circle of life, I began to increasingly feel that every day that goes by without them knowing the real me is another day that I, in a way, live a lie.

Jon, my boss, is part of that circle, and I had reached the point where I wanted him to know the real me.  But I was still reticent and couldn’t visualize how I would get those first few words out of my mouth.  What would I say?  How would he react?

As it happened, an opportunity arose last week and I took it.  Or rather, I forced myself to take it.  He knew that my wife and I had separated and are in the process of divorce, so I decided to build on that.  I told him that, though we had been having serious problems for several years, the straw that broke the camel’s back was President Packer’s talk at last October’s conference.  I looked at his face to judge his reaction to this statement.  There was none.

“Do you know what I’m referring to?” I asked. 

“Yes, I think so,” was his reply.  He waited.  

Gulp.  Here goes.  “We’ll something inside me snapped as a result of that talk and its immediate aftermath,” I continued.  “I’ve known since I was 12 that I’m gay, but I suppressed it and went ahead and got married.  Although I tried for many years to live the kind of life that was expected of me and that I thought I had wanted, I knew after hearing President Packer’s remarks that I couldn’t go on – even if I’d wanted to.”

I paused for reaction.  “Well [Invictus], I think that’s great!” he said.  “I think that’s great that you have the courage to finally be true to yourself and live who you really are.”

Relief.  A sense of warm satisfaction at having been accepted instead of rejected.

He then went on to say that he had known a guy some years before who had tried to lead a “double life.”  Jon knew his friend was miserable.  Everyone knew he was gay, but the guy thought no one knew.  He had tried, because of his Mormon faith, to live as he was expected to live and to keep up the front, living behind a mask, but it had exacted a terrible price on him.

“So, I’m happy for you,” said Jon.  “And,” he added, “I have to say that I’ve had my suspicions for quite some time.”

What?!  How?  Why?  Did I cross my legs one too many times?  Did I use too many questionable hand gestures?  Was it something I said?  He smiled and replied that it was nothing in particular, just a feeling.

The conversation then shifted to how the Church is handling the issue of homosexuality.  “The Church is going to have to change,” he said.  Jon is not an active LDS but comes from a distinguished Mormon family, and most of his siblings and extended family are very active in the Church.  “More and more kids are coming out to their parents, and, increasingly, these families are not going to put up with the treatment their children get.  We may not see it our lifetimes, but the doctrine will change; it has to.”  He went on to tell me that he had several nieces, nephews and other members of his extended family who are gay; so his outlook has been informed by real-life situations in his own family.

I agreed with Jon that the Church’s position will have to change; I believe it is inevitable.  But getting back to the here and now and to me, it felt so good to have Jon’s support, to not feel rejected once the real me had been revealed. 

I thought about this experience over the next few days as I contemplated the next steps in my current coming-out phase.  I thought primarily about my old bishop and my old ward – the people in the neighborhood in which my wife and children now live.  And I again asked myself why I was afraid of them finding out.

I also thought how mortified I had been a week or so ago when I had been in a restaurant and had, in greeting a friend, kissed him on the lips before realizing what I was doing.   As soon as I did it, I felt as if every eye in the restaurant was fixed on me.  I avoided these fixed stares and looked down at the table in front of me.  “What the hell did I just do!” I thought to myself.  “I’m in downtown Salt Lake City, and I just kissed another man on the lips!”  I felt as though I couldn’t breathe.  Then, slowly, I looked up and let my eyes scan the restaurant.  No one was looking at me.  The stares I had felt had been my imagination.  I allowed myself to breathe again.

As I was thinking about this and other experiences I’ve had in the past few weeks as I have entered a new phase of coming out, I came to a few realizations – all of which are kind of self-evident, but nevertheless were “revelations” to me.

First, I realized that the fear of rejection is ultimately what has been behind my apprehension at coming out, of moving further away from the closet door.   And this led to a further realization:  I was afraid of rejection because I have lived most of my life seeking approval and validation from others. 

And why did I do this?  Well, there are several reasons, but right near the top of the list is the self-loathing that flourished within me from the time I went through puberty, a result of my realization that I was a “homo.”  Because I could not possibly love myself (due to who I was/am), I sought that love and validation from others. 

This is one of the costs we incur living in the closet.  In a perverse sort of looking glass, we hold a mirror out in front of us and see the disgusting, handicapped, warped person we perceive ourselves to be, while transmitting through that same glass the image by which we hope to be known to the world, always hopeful that no one will ever peek behind the glass to see the image we see of ourselves.

So, it occurred to me, one of the first steps one must make in coming out is to work up the courage to lay that looking glass down, to believe enough in one’s own self-worth and dignity so as to not be afraid to let the “real” person project outward. 

For me, this has been an ongoing process since first coming out to myself last October.  I have gradually been building a sense of self-worth, accepting who I am, then affirming that identity.  At each step of the process, I had to feel good enough about myself in order for me to come out further; for if I didn’t feel good about myself, I would project shame, rather than affirmation.

Last week was another milestone for me.  With each passing day, I feel myself becoming stronger. I am now at the point where I think I have decided to stop worrying about my old ward.  I have decided not to come out to my old bishop.  I have decided to leave all that behind and to just come right on out; and if those people find out, well, they find out.  But I’m not going to worry about it anymore.

Masks – Exploring the Issues: Celestial Glory Shall Be Mine

“Celestial glory shall be mine if I can but endure.”

One of the very first songs a Mormon child learns to sing is “I Am a Child of God,” a very sweet little song that contains within its simple melody and honeyed phrases the essence of Mormon theology.  At a tender age, children learn that they are children of God, that they lived somewhere else in God’s presence before they came here to earth, that they have been sent from that place to this earth, and that their goal is to return to Heavenly Father some day.

The song teaches a number of other principles, some of which I hope to return to; but for this post, I want to focus on the fourth verse, which contains the summum bonum of Mormon theology:

I am a Child of God. 

His promises are sure;

Celestial glory shall be mine

If I can but endure.

In this post, I continue an exploration of various aspects of Mormon doctrine and theology that I think have contributed, and continue to contribute, to the formation of Mormon mixed-orientation marriages. Other than Mormon doctrine concerning homosexuality itself, I submit that no other doctrine contributes more to the creation of and angst over mixed-orientation marriages, as well as homosexuality itself, than the doctrine of the “new and everlasting covenant” (of eternal marriage).

For faithful Mormons, merely being “saved” is not enough; the goal of life is nothing short of “exaltation.”  Former apostle Bruce R. McConkie explained the significance of this doctrine in his classic, Mormon Doctrine: 

“Exaltation grows out of the eternal union of a man and his wife. Of those whose marriage endures in eternity, the Lord says, ‘Then shall they be gods’ (D&C 132:20); that is, each of them, the man and the woman, will be a god. As such they will rule over their dominions forever …

“Marriages performed in the temples for time and eternity [unite] … the participating parties [as] husband and wife in this mortal life, and if after their marriage they keep all the terms and conditions of this order of the priesthood, they continue on as husband and wife in the celestial kingdom of God. If the family unit continues, then by virtue of that fact the members of the family have gained eternal life (exaltation) … 

“Mortal persons who overcome all things and gain an ultimate exaltation will live eternally in the family unit and have spirit children, thus becoming Eternal Fathers and Eternal Mothers … becoming gods in their own right” (Mormon Doctrine, pp. 117, 129, 613).

It is perhaps difficult for non-Mormons to understand the centrality to Mormon theology of these beliefs and teachings.  For most Christians, “salvation” is a post-mortal reward that results – in essence – from living a good moral life, from following the teachings of Jesus Christ and believing that He can atone for mortal shortcomings. 

Mormon theology, however, has moved the goalposts way past the concept of mere “salvation.”  Though faithful Mormons believe that in God’s house “are many mansions” [which, in Mormon-speak, means kingdoms or degrees of glory] which may be perfectly fine for other people, they believe that – for them - salvation is basically an “all or nothing” concept:  either one obtains exaltation (with all that this term implies – see Bruce R., above) or just forget it.  No lower “degree of glory” is acceptable. 

This concept is taught from a very young age and is reflected in the above-quoted passage from the 4^th verse of “I Am a Child of God”:  “Celestial glory shall be mine - IF I can but endure” [emphasis added].  This verse also reflects another, companion, precept that is of paramount importance in Mormon theology:  obedience. Obtaining celestial glory is contingent upon “enduring to the end,” obeying all of God’s commandments (especially remaining “temple worthy”) and doing all that is required to reach that goal.

Paradoxically, and as an aside, a modern-day Christian might more easily relate to the teachings of the founder of Mormonism, Joseph Smith, rather than current teachings.  Joseph declared that “the fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it" (emphasis added; TPJS, p. 121).  He also declared that the first principle of the Gospel to be “Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.” 

In today’s Mormon Church, however, it is arguable that the cluster of doctrine surrounding eternal/celestial/temple marriage constitutes the “fundamental principles of our religion … and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it”; furthermore, perhaps not surprisingly, the “first law of heaven” has in practical terms arguably supplanted the first principle of the gospel.  “Obedience is the first law of heaven,” wrote Elder Bruce R. McConkie, “the cornerstone upon which all righteousness and progression rest.”  And this first law of heaven has been correlated and woven through much of what one currently finds in instruction manuals, conference talks and church magazine articles.

But I digress.

The point is that this “all or nothing” concept is at the root of much of what produces angst, self-hatred, deceit and heartache in Mormon men and women who have the extreme misfortune of having been born anything but heterosexual.

If a young gay man does not marry a woman in the temple and then remain faithful to his temple covenants (i.e., enduring to the end), he automatically knocks himself out of the running for exaltation.  He knows this, of course, and as a faithful Mormon, it causes him no end of worrying which can quickly escalate into depression.  Apart from everything else he feels because he knows he is gay, he feels a deep and dark dense of failure because he knows he’s missed – forever – the brass ring.

On top of this sense of failure is then piled a layer of guilt because he knows – because he has been told over and over again as a young man advancing toward the day that he receives the Melchizedek priesthood – that he has a sacred duty and obligation toward his Heavenly Father’s daughters to provide one of them an opportunity to go to the temple and be sealed for time and all eternity to a worthy priesthood holder. 

This obligation was echoed in the most recent General Conference by Elder Scott when he said, “I feel sorry for any man who hasn’t yet made the choice to seek an eternal companion, and my heart weeps for the sisters who haven’t had the opportunity to marry.”  Ouch.  Guilt.  And don’t forget President Monson’s talk during Priesthood Session, in which he said the following:  “Now, I have thought a lot lately about you young men who are of an age to marry but who have not yet felt to do so. I see lovely young ladies who desire to be married and to raise families, and yet their opportunities are limited because so many young men are postponing marriage.”  He then quoted several former presidents of the Church who had said much the same thing.  Again, guilt – but the young gay man knows it’s not because he doesn’t want to; it’s because he can’t.

Because eternal rewards are bound up in the concept of family kingdoms (exaltation of families, not individuals), actions of a family member in mortality are seen as affecting not only that family member’s eternal salvation, but also the salvation of his entire family of origin.  This leads to parents of gay children not only mourning the “loss” of these children, whom they believe have lost their chance to sit in the eternal family circle, leading to the proverbial empty chair (“No Empty Chairs” being a slogan commonly found on walls in Mormon homes); it also often leads to resentment toward this child for putting the exaltation of the entire family in jeopardy.

Beyond all these theological concerns, however, are the (some would say equally important) cultural concerns.  A temple marriage for their children is the fondest hope of many a Mormon parent, particularly in areas where there are large concentrations of Church members.  A temple marriage is a sign to the community in such areas that a child is ok, is doing the right thing, is respectable, is on “the path.”  Failure to marry in the temple, on the other hand, often becomes the subject of speculation and subjects the child’s parents to embarrassment if not outright shame in the their community (which, of course would often pale in significance when compared with the shame of having a gay son).

So, what is a young gay Mormon to do?  “Teach me all that I must do,” he used to sing in Primary, “to live with Him [Heavenly Father] someday.”  Is there a place for him in Heavenly Father’s home? Why is there so much emphasis in the Church upon exaltation (which, apart from what has been described above, contributes to a culture of fake perfectionism in the Church)?  Why does this have to be the end-all? 

The 131^st section of the Doctrine and Covenants is the scriptural source for the Mormon doctrine of three degrees of glory within the celestial kingdom.  Apart from anything else that could (and has) been said about this section, why has nothing ever been said about the other two degrees of glory (except that the inhabitants thereof cannot have increase, i.e., spirit children)?  Is there not ample room within Mormon theology to provide a place in the afterlife for Heavenly Father’s gay and lesbian children?  Did not Jesus himself say that in His father’s house are many mansions?  Couldn’t families (and the whole church membership) benefit from backing away from the all-or-nothing emphasis on exaltation?  Why don’t we ever talk about those many other mansions?

And finally, could not our young gay Mormon, together with those he loves, share celestial glory – the kind he used to sing about as a child?  As I said to a new friend this past weekend, given that I have received a spiritual witness that Heavenly Father accepts me as I am – gay – I am totally confident that there is such a place available for me in my Father’s house.

Thy Faith Hath Saved Thee: Healing to a Blighted Heart

This is another in a series of posts that take a lesson from the LDS Church’s (Adult) Gospel Doctrine class and present it from a gay perspective.  Today’s lesson is based on Lesson #19 in the Gospel Doctrine Manual and was prepared by Trey Adams.

Mark Twain is credited with an anecdote about a woman who did not smoke, drink, nor swear but who was ill.  He said in effect that she was like a sinking ship with nothing to throw overboard and therefore no way to save her from sinking.

Based on my own experience and that of many others with whom I am personally or otherwise acquainted, we end up having to cast a lot of cultural, social, and personal freight overboard in order to keep from sinking into that Hamlet-like “sea of troubles”.   

“For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office ...”

I have personally had to divest myself of a lot of stuff I had accumulated over the years in order to survive unnoticed in a hostile world.  I had to throw it overboard to keep from drowning in the stuff itself.  Sometimes in the unloading we lose precious cargo: social and cultural stability, the love of family and friends; sometimes it’s a temporary loss, sometimes we don’t know.

More than just another discussion of Faith, today’s lesson topic should challenge us a bit to think about how we apply the very real power of Faith to fill the empty places in our social, physical, spiritual, and emotional experience . . .  and in our hearts.

“As Jesus was leaving Jericho with His disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging.

On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”

And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out all the more, “Son of David, have pity on me.”

Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”

So they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”

He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.

Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want Me to do for you?”

The blind man replied to Him, “Master, I want to see.”

Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.”

Immediately he received his sight and followed Him on the way.”

Like the beggar, our vision of life and our place in it can be obscured by the painful personal, social, and cultural conditions around us. We can lose focus and forget that our greatest resource lies within – our Faith in God.  For some of us, it takes the sting of emotional or spiritual impoverishment to open our hearts, try our faith, and to cry out.

A few months ago, emotional (and physical) survival meant a serious unburdening of much of what I had accumulated over many years, stuff I had used to create the appearance of a fit-in life.  During the process, I made the mistake of throwing my Faith in God overboard with the stuff.

Luckily, and before not too much time had elapsed, I came to realize that the God I had thrown overboard was not the true God of love – the one who is no respecter of persons, or religions, or race, or nationality . . . or sexual orientation.  I had mistakenly associated God with the church that had been an integral part of my life for many years; the two, I thought, were inseparable and if one went overboard, so went the other.  The real God was still in His place.

I realized that I had been a recipient of God’s grace throughout my life, including during the past several months after casting away my stuff.  In fact, one such blessing came as a direct answer to my cry as I sat impoverished at the gate dividing my past from my future; he sits beside me now as I finish writing this lesson.

With faith in God we can rebuild our lives, have a better outlook and view of the future, find courage, strength, self-assurance and hope.  Are we all not beggars at the gate after all?  “What do you want [Him] to do for you?”

Withered leaves and barren boughs;

Love cut away the failing part,

Clave living grafts of Faith and Hope,

Brought healing to a blighted heart.

Winter chill and Spring rebirth;

Love’s husbandry – atoning pain.

Buds opening on fruitful boughs

Have blossomed into Hope again.

~ga

Don’t forget to pray.

Sweet Hour of Prayer
by The Sabre Rattlers

Masks: Landing Gay Side Up

This post features a Mormon lesbian's struggle to be free and a discussion of Orson Scott Card's comments on homosexuality.  Both accounts originated in comments left on a MetaFilter post.

For the last couple of days, I have written about how delighted I was to discover that some of my blog posts about mixed orientation marriages (MoMs) had “jumped the Mormon firewall” to a world outside the (current / post / active / nonbelieving / liberal  /somewhere over the rainbow) Mormon community and had generated a discussion on the subjects of MoMs, homosexuality and religious beliefs in general. 

This phenomenon occurred because someone had posted a front-page MetaFilter post about several of my blog posts, generating a huge increase in the number of page views of my blog as well as a number of very interesting comments.  I have posted some of these comments in the last couple of posts.  Today, I want to share a couple more lengthy comments because of what I believe these stories and viewpoints bring to our discussion on this side of the firewall.

A Lesbian’s Struggle to be Free

An anonymous commenter wrote the following about her experience of discovering that she was a lesbian:

Where I grew up in Utah, I only knew a handful of people who weren't Mormon and they were to be avoided. I didn't know any LGBTQ people, and I had always been taught that they had been deceived by the devil. I was a very good Mormon girl, so there was no chance that I could be a lesbian. I still remember when my mom and dad went on a date night to see "Boys on the Side" and they came home early -- they walked out due to there being lesbian content.

The only boy I was remotely attracted to in high school looked more like Legolas than anything, long hair and feminine features. That should have been a clue.

I got a full scholarship to the University of Utah and left home. But after my first year, I had fallen in love with my best friend, who was who I had been told to be waiting for my entire life. Return missionary, worthy priesthood holder. At 19, I dropped out of college, gave up my scholarship and married him in the temple. I moved to California to start my own new happy Mormon family.

It was[n’t] until our wedding night that I realized how much trouble I was in. We had remained "chaste" until that night, and when I was in that intimate position, I felt zero attraction. Horror sunk in. I was "married for eternity" and there was zero sexual desire. I gave it my best shot for a while, but no matter how much I followed the "gospel" or what I tried, it just wasn't working. I fell into a deep depression, wondering how heavenly father could leave me in such a position after I had been so faithful and given up my home, my scholarship, what felt like everything, for what he wanted. And then I felt guilty for doubting "his plan."

Eventually I fought my way out of the depression, found a job and got back my independence. The internet helped me fact-check the claims of the church and I realized it couldn't possibly be true. My mind was free. I learned what a double-bind was and how duped I had been for all of my life. My husband left the church with me. I sent my parents a letter telling them that I had left the church. When my mom found out, it was non-stop crying, calling and emailing me begging to reconsider, begging me to not leave their eternal family. It went on for months and months without stop.

I realized that friendship was not enough for me to stay in a marriage. I decided to get a divorce and try to figure out my sexuality. I found a job in a different city and moved. I didn't give my family my new address or phone number to get some rest from the constant harassment for my "soul."

After about 6 months, I let them start writing me letters. Years later, we now talk on the phone every few weeks. If they start talking about my soul, or the times they've seen angels, I keep my boundaries and end the call. But I'm still scared to death to tell them that I'm a lesbian. I have a partner of 3.5 years that they know nothing about. I'm scared to tell them because I know in their minds it will be confirmation that because I've left the church, Satan is corrupting my life and leading me further down the path of sin. And that breaks my heart. No matter what I do, I can never escape the dogma. Although I have my own life, and have created my own family with fantastic friends, there's still a part of me that the Mormon Church latches on to, that I struggle to be free.

The Danger (or lack thereof) of Landing “Gay Side Up”

The last comment that I wanted to include is the following one by “Orthogonality” that picks up on a thread of comments about some things that Orson Scott Card (a noted author who happens to be Mormon and who is known for his pronounced anti-gay views) has written.

In other Orson Scott Card essays I've read, there's been this implication that ‘gee, we better make being gay difficult, or else everyone will go gay!’

Now, maybe if you're a Mormon kid and you can't have a girlfriend, can't even have the compensations of porn and masturbation. Maybe then the uninformed stereotype that gay life is 100% Fire Island Fuck Fest sounds intriguing.

But I suspect that for the gay lifestyle to sound at all fun, you have to be a somewhat attracted to men. For me, and I think for most heterosexual men, going gay is never a real alternative, because for us, sex necessarily involves a woman.

But for many anti-gay crusaders, like Card, the attractiveness of "going gay" is obvious, and is what makes out gays [to be] so threatening. They viscerally believe that to see a happy gay man is to desire to be a happy gay man, and thus the only safety lies in making sure no one sees a happy gay man …

I, a heterosexual, look at a happy gay man's sex life, and think, ‘yeah, it looks like he's having fun, and I wish hook-ups came as easily for me but -- he's hooking up with guys, and well, that really defeats the whole purpose. I'm glad it works for him, but really, what's the fucking point of that?’

I have gay friends, I've been to gay parties, I've had drinks and good conversations with gay dudes. Not once have I been ‘on the verge of falling into homosexual behavior.’ Not once have I ‘accidentally’ tripped and landed ‘gay side up.’ I don't need to ‘keep those feelings at bay’ because those feelings never occur to me.

Because homosexuality isn't something you choose. It's a lifestyle, but it isn't an "alternative lifestyle" in the sense that driving a Prius is an "alternative to" driving an SUV.

Now isn't it odd that Orson Scott Card and these supporters of beards think … that homosexuality is so alluring, that so much willpower or force of law is needed to avoid its temptations? Because I think that if you're secure in your own heterosexuality, that ‘temptation’ never arises, never even occurs to you.

Hmmm.   Interesting …