I confess that I have been unable to feel the same emotions that have been expressed, to mourn with those who mourn. I’ve tried – I can understand the hurt, the surprise, even the anger, and understand that it is real, and that there is legitimate cause for some part of it, but I haven’t been able to feel it myself. The closest that I’ve come is bewilderment that Church leaders didn’t anticipate the response, and didn’t prepare us for it in any way, and haven’t provided any real explanation – Elder Christofferson’s initial interview was sincere, but instead of answering my questions it only raised new ones. So instead of reposting tear-filled links, I’ve been trying to puzzle out the reasons behind the policy.
I think the main reason why I haven’t felt the same emotions is because I’m single – without spouse, without children. If I could imagine the policy affecting my marriage, or especially a child I loved – say, if I had a sensitive daughter Suzy who would feel ostracized from her peers because of the policy, or a faithful son Davy who just learned that he couldn’t be a deacon – maybe the policy would carry more emotional smack for me. But I don’t risk having a marriage condemned or having children shut out, so it’s hard for me to put myself in the place of those who do.
So this morning I’ve been trying a thought experiment. I’m a single, heterosexual woman, reasonably healthy and intelligent and competent. Why haven’t I ever married? The Church tells me I need to be married for exaltation. What if – here’s the experiment – for whatever reason, Church leaders decided that single men and women were not simply tardy in fulfilling that requirement, but that our continuing singleness was evidence of rebellion? What if my recent posts about single saints were taken not as I intended them (to point out that singles have religious needs related specifically to their singleness) but as activism to persuade Church members to abandon the Church’s doctrinal commitment to marriage (that is, what if my posts were condemned as apostasy)?
I know that my heart is with the gospel, and my loyalties are with the Church, and my singleness is due to not having met the right man, whether that is due to a failure of my personality or his failure to look around, or for some other reason pretty much beyond my control. It isn’t opposition to the gospel. But what if it were suddenly branded as that? What if that caused a curtailment of my privileges in the Church, even excommunication?
Okay. I begin to understand, emotionally, perhaps superficially, some of what gay Saints are feeling.
I could continue to attend Church, as we are telling gay Saints they can do … but I couldn’t teach Sunday School. I couldn’t speak in Sacrament or Fast Meetings – and I couldn’t take the Sacrament. (I’ve come to appreciate what a privilege it is to take the Sacrament, after learning that Jeannie Bleakley, the only Latter-day Saint on Ceylon for decades, used to go down to the docks to meet incoming ships, to see if there were any sailors aboard from Utah. If there were, and if they were LDS, then maybe she could take the sacrament that year. Not that week, that year.) How well would I bear up under those conditions? Can I expect a gay Saint to bear up any better?
I could fall back on the claim that the Church doesn’t teach us to shun gay members – quite the opposite. But as a single person, I already feel mostly invisible, mostly unwanted, and absolutely unneeded by the Church. What if, in my thought experiment, my social connections in the ward were weakened even further – what if I weren’t actively shunned, but just overlooked because I wasn’t on the ward list, or what if people were more uncomfortable around me, even if they didn’t quite hate me? How well would I bear up under those conditions? Can I expect a gay Saint to bear up any better?
A month ago, at the U’s “Black, White and Mormon” conference, I caught a faint glimpse of what it might mean to be a black Saint, when I heard one woman describe her first temple baptismal trip as a teenager. She saw a painting of the hosts of heaven greeting the triumphant Savior – a painting that ought to inspire nothing but positive feelings – but it took her breath away for the wrong reason: Every face in that heavenly host was white. She realized, for the first time in her life, that her fellow Latter-day Saints didn’t even see her, didn’t think of her and people like her as having a place in heaven – oh, we would have denied it if she had challenged us about it, but the evidence would be that we did not see her. I already feel marginalized as a single Saint – if my thought experiment came to pass, if I could not act in the Church even as little as I do now, would I not feel as invisible as that young black teenager in the temple? If gay Saints, and their children, are pushed further out from the Church by virtue of exclusion from baptism and ordination, can I not imagine how they would feel?
I can already, without this thought experiment, come close to understanding how gay Saints must feel under the requirement that they remain alone, unmarried, and celibate as a condition for even marginal acceptance in the Church. I know everyone’s first instinct is to rush in with “But just because you aren’t married doesn’t mean you can’t be! A gay woman never can be married, at least not to anyone she’s attracted to!” That’s true. Theoretically, I could get married acceptably tomorrow. But there comes a time, in years and experience and self-knowledge, when a single heterosexual woman knows that theory is virtually meaningless, that in reality, the odds against her marrying are so great that it’s not worth thinking about.
Still, that theoretical possibility serves a good purpose in the life of a heterosexual Latter-day Saint: That tiny “thing with feathers that perches on the soul” does sing, if ever so quietly and in spite of myself and against reason. For a gay Saint, “sore [has been] the storm that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm” – so many, but not the faithful gay Saint. He or she is outside that warmth of hope in this regard. In my thought experiment, I can take what I do feel, and extend it a bit more, to begin to understand the isolation of the gay Saint.
My earlier posts on this subject have been efforts to understand the reasons Church leaders felt it necessary to implement these policies – I don’t know what those reasons are, despite my efforts. We need the Church to give us more background, more explanation, more answers to questions. I think that will come, in time.
This post, by contrast, is an effort to better understand by heart rather than by head what so many seem to have understood so effortlessly: What does this mean, not on paper, but in real life? I begin to feel, to mourn with those who mourn.
Thank you for sharing, Ardis. I hope you continue posting your thoughts as you work through them. You have a unique perspective that broadens my own way of thinking.
Beautiful. Thank you for this, Ardis.
Excellent thought experiment.
Ardis, you are amazing. I’ve met you briefly a few times when, as a CSM, I delivered materials you ordered at the Church History Library. I love reading your blog, and you do make a difference. This post has especially touched me, and given me a new perspective. Thank you!
You have a gift, to see where you lack empathy and seek to develop it. Thank you for letting us see into that process a little.
I have been fundamentally flawed in relation to the Church for a long, long time. Most of my life. I have not been excommunicated, but I have had fights with my bishops that led me to believe I might be. I have felt enough of the sting to have worked through the understanding necessary to accept the prospect of being excommunicated, should it happen, and the prospect of my children being ineligible for baptism until they were 18.
I feel rather like I did on 9/11, when I watched the Americans around me struggle to deal with something I accepted long ago.
I hope that most of those who are in the midst of pain find their way through. I almost dare to hope that I can be a bit of a light for some of them….
Thank you for these insights; I think you make a great deal of sense, and appreciate how you’ve put everything so clearly. As a single woman in her fifties, I can’t help thinking of a line from the immortal Bridget Jones: “Tom has a theory that homosexuals and single women in their thirties have natural bonding: both being accustomed to disappointing their parents and being treated as freaks by society.”
I feel sorrow for the children and for the spouses abandoned by those who left for a same-sex union with someone else. For those who tore apart their families so they could be sexually and legally linked to someone other than their long-standing spouses, well, I feel less sorrow. I regret the circumstances. I hope for Christ-like charity. I hope for appropriate mercy in the midst of necessary justice. I hope the sons and daughters from these torn families are welcome among us, and that they can be helped by the holy spirit to be patient. I hope for peace. I hope the shrill voices will die down.
I have also spent time trying to understand the pain others are feeling. I see people who aren’t gay who are in pain. They have a gay son, or their friend has a gay son. I see parents and grandparents who do not want their children and grandchildren excluded.
I, however, have always known my children may not stay in the church. I have an 18 year old daughter who I love and who attends church, participates, serves and even gives amazing talks yet who at this point I think her future is not in the church. I can accept this, yet other parents can’t accept it.
Perhaps because my parents had a rebellious teen and I saw the years of tears before the acceptance. When I was trying to get pregnant I wondered why I was sacrificing when the child might hate me in 15 years. As I saw my family mature and change I decided if my child ever left the church, I would skip the years of heartache, blame and angst, and go straight to the peace and love and acceptance.
So, that is where I am at.
My daughter will choose. If my daughter doesn’t believe, or thinks a teaching is wrong, or whatever, I do not insist the church change to suit her. I just know that she will find her own path and it is between her and God.
I see on Facebook people who see their child hurt or their friend hurt and they want to save them that. If the church would not teach this or not have that as a policy, then their loved one would not have certain problems or their loved ones could feel comfortable at church.
I disagree with you that the church leaders didn’t know this would cause problems. They knew this for years which is why they desperately tried to stop SSM. They knew SSM would cause problems that would be impossible to reconcile. How can the missionaries teach the gospel to a gay family and invite them to be baptized? They can’t. And we can’t just go in and teach a gay family and target the children only. Our only choice is to back off and not teach the family (because we feel it would be wrong to encourage them to join a church when it would require divorce or breaking up the family ).
The church leaders knew they would have to address it somehow eventually once their efforts were defeated. The people I discussed SSM with knew it would come.
Now that SSM is here, the fallout is here.
It is true that it is sad for the children of divorce who have a gay parent. Gay activitists tell us that people shouldn’t be entering into mixed orientation marriages because they are doomed to fail. Will there continue to be so many children from heterosexual marriages with gay parents? I assume their numbers will fall is sexuality is fixed and gay people don’t fee pressured to marry opposite genders. However, if sexuality is more fluid, there will continue to be people who choose to be gay later in life after a failed heterosexual marriage that produced kids.
Because of SSM it is now more common that a child has only 2 gay parents (no heterosexual ones). This policy does makes a lot of sense that we don’t target these families or their children for baptism because it would break up their family. When I look at the policy as it applies to a child with a gay parent who left his/her family behind, it seems unfair for that heterosexual parent who is still active and wants children raised in the church. But then I think about Emily Pearson’s difficulty in navigating life of a gay father and the church. It is heartbreaking. I think it is right for us as a church to acknowledge that right now, if the church excludes gay people, we should protect their children from being a party to that.
I include her words:
Trying to juggle my different lives was bizarre. I hung out with my dad and half-naked Castro Street drag queens on Saturday, and with my mom and the correctly clothed, right- eous descendants of Mormon pioneers on Sunday. Early morning seminary, baptisms for the dead, and Girls Camp were celebrated right along with Gay Pride parades and festi- vals. I tried with everything in me to reconcile my two worlds—two worlds that are irreconcilable.
The Mormon Church, which was the same thing as my Heavenly Father, apparently hated my dad. My dad, in turn, hated the Church, and thus my Heavenly Father. I loved both of my fathers desperately. But I feared doing so would cause ei- ther, or both, of them to reject and stop loving me.
I couldn’t please, or be loved by, both fathers. It simply wasn’t possible. I had to choose. So, of course, I chose my dad. He was immediate, tangible, and bigger and louder to me than anything. Even though it broke me in half, I chose him over everything—God, the Church, my mom. Even myself.
If my child had a gay parent, I would absolutely sit down with them and tell them that the church leaders know how difficult it is for them to love their dad and feel torn between him and the church. I would tell them that it is out of kindness to have them wait before they choose to be baptized.
Baptism isn’t a social club where everyone should have equal chance of being included. Look at Judaism and our history of being a covenant people. We don’t baptize babies for a reason. We consider baptism a huge commitment. The church is acknowledging that for these kids, it can be too much to ask for them to make this commitment before letting them grow up.
Do I know that this is the best way to handle it? No. I don’t know that. The church may learn from this and choose to change how it handles it down the road. But this to me is a reasonable way to try to attempt to deal with the realities of today.
Many people who are in pain, are people who have been in pain for years about things about the church. They have spent years feeling torn. I think they should see some benefit in saving some kids some of that heartache.
As much as I wish to share the gospel with everyone, I have often felt that you can’t be a happy Mormon until you are a committed Mormon. I have often felt that convert baptisms shouldn’t be rushed so that converts understand the commitment and are more likely to stay.
These are my thoughts. There hasn’t been anywhere online to share them. I hope here is an appropriate place.
jks, I have to correct one misunderstanding, at least. What I said Church leaders didn’t anticipate was the response to Church members’ learning of the new policy the way we did, to its being leaked without preparation or prompt and adequate explanation. That’s a very different thing from anticipating the effect same-sex marriage would have more generally.
I’ll probably stick with the Church until the songbook contains one titled “We Thank Thee O God For a Manual.”
Well put.
I guess they might have been naive enough to not anticipate it. I would think it would be obvious how quickly information travels. Definitely other recent announcements have seems more professional and skilled, so I guess I agree with you that this seems more like they were strangely unprepared.
This is an important experiment, Ardis. Thanks.
Thank you, Ardis.
Excellent. Well stated.
If only most of those of us who are married spent time performing this kind of a thought experiment regarding single members.
Very nice, Ardis.
“But there comes a time, in years and experience and self-knowledge, when a single heterosexual woman knows … the odds against her marrying are so great that it’s not worth thinking about.”
Ardis, forgive me for being obtrusive (or even tactless) but I think that you are intuitively (by being the awesome person you are) preaching the immutable sermon that no one wants to hear:
Celibacy.
jks, thanks for the post. Pearson’s thoughts helped me see, from someone on the outside, what it might feel like dealing with the challenges of having parents who separated and a SS relationship ensued.
On the mission tracked into a sister in the middle of a very nasty divorce. She discovered her husband was having an affair, with another man, and the husband wanted a divorce. When we met her they were dealing with custody issues of their toddler son. We’d stopped by and tried to lift her spirits a few times over the next few weeks and eventually helped her move out of her apartment.
Her ex-husband came by during the move and when he saw missionaries he exploded. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever watched as he yelled at her and threatened to cut her off from her son just because missionaries were at her move. The poor kiddo was sitting there wide-eyed throughout the whole experience.
I’m not sure what to say other than life is challenging and I trust the Brethren that they are doing the best they can to engage an already challenging situation. Pearson describes the division in her heart already from one life in the church and one in “Castro Street.” To me, the direction that children in this situation wait before the covenant of baptism until they are mature enough to denounce sin, with the the understanding of how that may impact their lives in their specific circumstances, seems a reasonable way to handle an already difficult situation.
Jack, that — celibacy and its consequences: loneliness in life, growing old alone without support, and wondering how long after death it will be before your body is discovered — is precisely what most allows me to empathize with LGBT Latter-day Saints who try the hardest to do what the gospel asks of them.
I have friends who are in the situation of being divorced from a gay spouse with children who had been born to them while married; they have been told via their bishop (through the chain from the First Presidency), that their children can still be baptized/ordained etc. Of course the gay parent must also consent to that. The policy was only meant to apply to children who are born to or adopted by gay couples, not to children born to LDS parents who later divorce, where one parent is in a gay marriage. They are saying that is the further clarification that will be announced.
I expect further clarification, E, and what you are reporting would ease at least some of the pain in some of the families. That would also bring the policy on gay families more in line with that of polygamous families.
Frankly, I’ve been startled by reports of actions and decisions made already, before local leaders receive any training or can ask any “what about this case?” questions. Those cases may not be reported entirely accurately, but still …
Thanks Ardis.
It just occurred to me, will the missionaries have to start asking if two male or two female roomates are gay? This was a very helpful post, btw.
Kevinf, last I checked, the missionaries have been asking about same-sex relationships for a long time. It was a baptismal interview question on my mission. I guess now they maybe have to ask about your parents? We never asked about if your parents were polygamists, though, but maybe that’s because it was so rare.
I found the following, while just one person’s opinion, to be a beautifully written explanation for the new policy: http://gaymormonguy.blogspot.com/2015/11/waiting-on-lord-same-sex-adoption.html?m=1
I read a statement from a woman whose husband shared custody of his son with his ex-wife, who was in a lesbian relationship. The boy was turning 12 and expecting to receive the priesthood. However, on Sunday the bishop told him he could not because he lived part of the time with his mother. From some of the comments above, this appears to be inaccurate. Hopefully,that bishop will get things straightened out. However, that woman said they were going to start going to another church that was more accepting. I think if I were that woman, I would gather my family around and say, “This is something we need to pray about.”
Thanks for this.
This inspires me, showing how a person may break out of the mindset where their privilege is invisible to them. It’s lamentable how difficult empathy can be, but I believe it’s always the better way. If you want to follow Christ, that is.
I pray that this is correct. That will probably reduce by several orders of magnitude the number of children affected. But I still have to wonder. If that was the intent, for the love of Mike, WHY DIDN’T THEY WRITE IT THAT WAY?! Presumably, those who wrote and vetted this are well-educated and capable of producing precisely-written English sentences. And yet this was precisely written so as to include children who may have never met their gay parent and children who only stay part-time with their gay parent and children not in the custody of a gay parent.
I just don’t get it.
Left Field, since it seems that the leaders of the church were entirely taken by surprise, is it possible that something happened behind the scenes?
Could this change be language that was being floated around for commentary and revision and accidentally got released into the handbook by a) bureaucratic/computer systems incompetence, b) someone who thinks the Church is too liberal on this issue and was mad about things like the recent comment about Kim Davis and religious liberty, or c) someone who thinks the Church is too conservative on this issue and wanted public backlash.
The story of the publication of Mormon Doctrine would suggest (as a single data point) that the church organization is likely to close ranks when presented with a non-excommunicatable problem.
(This comment should not be construed in any way as a criticism of the church or any member or leader of the church, or to prompt anyone to make criticisms, but enough things are puzzling about this entire situation that it might be worth entertaining a variety of possibilities, and like Ardis said the other day, this is not a good time to make hasty decisions.)
Remember, this was written in the policy Handbook for bishoprics. Almost none of us who are commenting on it, reading into it, have it in context of all the information, all the training, etc. given to bishoprics. We aren’t operating in the framework of working with a Stake president, of interviewing people on a case-by-case, of having feedback and discussion channels.
It was not a PR press release. It was not a contract. It was not commandments written in stone.
And, I might add, by “leaking” it, publicizing it, and milking it for political benefit, those who are against the Church’s policies are actually solidifying in the minds of general members the very attitudes they claim to despise.
It would have been much better for the policy to be vetted, tested, pulled back and forth in the test tube of actual bishops and actual members, rather than blaring it from the rooftops to be weighed, judged, and codified in the fields of popular opinion. There is only one benefit to the latter, and it is about the same thing that all politics are about: power.
I appreciate this, Ardis. It’s this kind of empathy that keeps me feeling connected to and cared about by my sisters and brothers in the church. Thank you.
Beautiful work, Ardis. Thank you.
Thank
you, Ardis. This was lovely.
Thank you for speaking up, Ardis. This is heartbreaking and lovely and fair.
Great Post Ardis–it is helpful . . .
Thank you!
I appreciate the tone and insight of this post and many comments.
But…
“loneliness in life, growing old alone without support, and wondering how long after death it will be before your body is discovered…”
I actually know a lot of married parents who feel this very same way. Children are not always loving and appreciative or supportive.
In my own family of origin, we had one sister who would not help with my mom for more than a decade.
Nothing I’ve said is exclusive to or universal among singles — after writing my first post on Single Saints, I received email from a number of married friends relating their own similar trials within marriage. There are also no doubt legions of singles who have such warm and extensive ties to friends and siblings that they don’t share this sometimes overwhelming loneliness. It is, however, a common experience of singles, and it is my own experience, so it’s relevant to my thought experiment.
Thank you so much for this, Ardis. It is a real act of grace and humility to try to put yourself in that place of empathy. I love you for it. You just rock.
Thank you for this, Ardis. You touched my heart.
Thank you, again, for everything you do.