Champion of Discord

justice

Yep. That’s me. At least, that’s how some are referring to me.

Champion of discord? Nope. The discord in my beloved church is already there and growing. It’s just kept hidden and lonely. In painful isolation. Who created the discord? Not me. For the source, you have to look much higher up the leadership ladder.

What Kind of Champion do I Really Want to Be

1) A CHAMPION for discussing discord. Dismissing, disallowing, & demonizing discord only drives people away. Our culture forbids discussing discord out in the open. How weak the position of the church must be if discussing our discord is forbidden. How weak testimonies must be! The best way to bring accord out of discord is to discuss. Demanding and dictating accord does not work and is not God’s way.

2) A CHAMPION for keeping temple covenants, specifically the covenant to obey God’s Law.

3) A CHAMPION for Christ’s clear and straightforward Law of common consent. Today in conference, Elder Ballard encouraged, “Never abandon the truths revealed through Joseph Smith.” Yet, we have abandoned the revelation of common consent. I’ll be it’s Champion.

4) A CHAMPION for my marginalized and vulnerable gay brothers and sisters. In the church of Jesus, “the least of these” have no champions whatsoever. If something is going to be called sad, this is the saddest of them all: we do not champion “the least of these.” For heaven’s sake, this is the gorgeous center of Christ’s gospel and ministry.

5) A CHAMPION for the marginalized truth seekers. Again today, Elder Ballard counseled, “We must never neglect anyone with questions. Treat them like investigators.” Well, guess what? Not only do we neglect those with questions, we marginalize, shun and shut them up. I KNOW this from personal experience. At this point, I’ve seen many leave because they were treated this very way.

Just Wait a Little Longer, Sam

I have been told that I should just sit back and wait. Do nothing. Trust the brethren.

Out of 6 siblings, all have left the church, but me.
How long should I wait? Until my own children leave?

Many good friends have left.
How long should I wait? Until another 100 have left?

All but one of my gay friends have left.
Should I wait until he’s gone? Should I wait until 10 more gay kids come out, get shunned and then watch them & their families leave?
Should I just wait for another child to commit SUICIDE???

70% of members have resigned or are inactive. 80,000 resigned last year.
Should I wait for another 80,000 to resign?

Nope!!! I’m acting on my temple covenants NOW. I’m following Jesus’ Laws NOW.

From January 2015 until now, 22 months in all, I have reached out to quorum, Ward, stake, and general authority leadership. Sharing concerns and ideas of what we could do as a church to stem the tide of exodus. Response: Zip…Nada….Nothing. Twenty-two months of being told: be patient, we’ll look into it, we’ll get back with you, the brethren know what they are doing.

Behold Thy Mother

My brother and his entire family left the church in January 2016. They have a gay son. The November gay policy drove them all out.

Then, two months ago, my mom resigned. This is my MOTHER!!! Oh, behold my MOTHER!!! Heart broken by policies NEVER approved by the consent of the common. Beaten down and driven out of Christ’s church. My church. The church that I love.

Unfortunately, the departure of all my siblings was not enough to kick my butt into action. But, there is no way that I am going to ignore the broken heart of my own dear MOTHER.

So, I am going to CHAMPION obedience of the Law of God, the Law that I promised in the temple to obey. The vital Law of God which He called: The Law of Common Consent. My mother has been bruised, battered, and severely scarred by policies that never would have been accepted if the church was not in disobedience of this indispensable commandment. No longer will I mock God by NOT striving to live up to the promises I have made in his holy house.

Resister of Common Consent–A Record of Those Who Disapprove (click here for link)

If you disapprove of what the church is doing, you have a voice. It was granted by Jesus himself. May we all CHAMPION what we know in our hearts to be right. May we reclaim our God given privilege to approve or disapprove.

Whizzing in the Wind

***Warning—Do not read if you are queasy about bodily fluid descriptions***

catamaran

Last week, I took my son-in-law and two young grandkids sailing. The weather was picture perfect. The sky was overcast, making for an uncommonly pleasant temperature. Low humidity. No rain. Manageable wind speed…that wouldn’t frighten the little ones…or the big ones.

My son-in-law, Marshall, is determined to master the fine art of sailing. Most of the day he was at the helm. Did a great job. As the captain, he managed everything. The jib, the tiller, the mainsail, the commands….and even the capsizing. That’s right, he tipped us over. Of course, we blamed it on….Benson, our intrepid three year old passenger. As we joked that it was all his fault, he quickly and proudly claimed the credit. Tipping a catamaran over can be traumatic to kids with no sailing experience. But, Benson was totally unfazed. Bright-eyed and smiling wide, he played in the swells as Dad and Granddad worked to upright the boat.

At one point, we were about an hour away from the beach. My little three year old grandson said to his dad, “I need to go potty.” Dad calmly replied in almost a whisper, “Let’s use the stealth method.” My six kids were all girls. So, I wasn’t sure what the stealth method was. I assumed it meant to go into the bushes. Well, in the middle of Galveston Bay, there are no bushes. Holding onto the windward shroud, little Benson stood up and started fumbling awkwardly with his clothes.

OK! Now it was time for the experienced sailor to jump to the rescue. From sad and comical experience, I know what happens when any fluid is flung into the wind. Moving air is merciless. It flings the fluid right back onto you and anyone else behind you. Marshall and I were both downwind.

Before any unfortunate accident could occur, I moved the little one to the back of the trampoline on the leeward side. Now, Benson could water the seawater without the captain and his coach being splattered.

Pissing Into the Wind

Yesterday, I met a good friend for lunch. He’s a member of my ward (Congregation). I really like this guy. Have a great deal of respect for him. He was my very first bishop when I moved to Houston 40 years ago.

We got talking about the state of my faith and my current activities. He was very complimentary about the Talkeria. He feels it is a great example of following Christ’s commandments to reach out in a spirit of love and charity. Coming from him, it meant the world to me.

But, he also had a caution. He said this, “Sam, what you are doing, by voting opposed, is just PISSING INTO THE WIND.” I’m not sure exactly what he meant. But, I’m a sailor. To me, “pissing into the wind,” brings a certain image to mind. Not a pleasant image. An image of bad stuff coming back at you.

Excommunication?

It turns out that this vision of “pissing into the wind” was pretty apt yesterday. Two people, whom I love and know well, predicted that I’m going to be excommunicated. I’d heard comments like this before, but not from anyone close. It hit a little hard.

Now, I don’t think that I’m doing anything to warrant expulsion. I love Jesus. I love my church. I have great respect for its leaders. It saddens me that so many of my friends and family are leaving or have already left.

So, I may be “pissing into the wind.” Unfortunate things might come back and bite me. Never-the-less, my determination and commitment is to follow the teachings and example of Jesus Christ. If I were be excommunicated for seeking to obey the Savior’s commandments and to keep my temple covenants…so be it. After all, Jesus, Himself, was executed for his determination to follow the commandments of His father.

Pissing Into the Wind—The Next Steps

Saturday, October 1^st, all members of the Church of Jesus Christ will have a sacred opportunity to serve the Lord and His church. Once again, He will publicly exhibit His trust in the general church membership. He has commanded the apostles to ask for our opinion….to ask for our approval or disapproval. In preparation for that pivotal event, here are four steps I plan to take in the next few days.

Post on my blog a call to seriously consider what each of us is going to do when this holy vote is called for.
Compose an e-mail which will explain to my Stake President and Bishop why I voted the way I did.
Post that e-mail here, so others can access, modify, and use, if they so desire.
Compose a petition of sorts. Not actually a petition, but, more like a register. If a person chooses to vote in disapproval, they could record it here. It’s likely that only one name will be recorded on the register…mine. And…that’s just peachy with me.

Dancing with Jesus

Tango Dancers

Thirty-nine years ago, I accomplished the impossible: I graduated as a single male from BYU. Very rare back in 1977. Relatively common today.

I moved to Houston with no wife in tow. Young LDS singles being sparse, I was constantly on the look-out for a future spouse. City wide dances were held every couple of months. Prime occasions to meet someone cute and available. I don’t think I ever missed a dance. Within 1 1/2 years, I was married to my sweetheart. Singles dances faded into the distant past.

Odd Behavior

During those long-ago dances, I observed a rather interesting ritual. There was a particular single man who attended regularly. I’ll call him John. He always brought a date. The very same date. I think they were engaged.

John followed a predictable pattern. As the evening progressed he would only dance a couple of times with his delightful & dependable companion. However, he danced every song…..with a different girl! He was pretty picky and chose carefully who he asked. You see, back then, there were girls who could count on dancing all night. And….then, there were girls who could only hope. Of course, these women were not deficient….in any way! They may have been a bit different, but not deficient, defective, or discardable. Never-the-less, there they were, lining the walls, filling a chair. These are the women with whom John chose exclusively to dance the night away.

A Parable

Fast forward almost 40 years. I didn’t see it at the time. Maybe John didn’t either. But, I see now that he was…..Dancing with Jesus.

One of my favorite spiritual teachings is found in Matthew 25.

34 Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:

35 For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:

36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?

38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least, ye have done it unto me.” What a drop-dead gorgeous, tear-in-the-eye, teaching! One of the mainstays for me choosing to follow Christ.

Back to John. The women he chose to dance with certainly were not the “least” in most situations. But, for some reason, that evening, they were the “least” in the cultural hall. Literally, they were at the margins. Isn’t that the hallmark of Jesus’ ministry? Reaching out to those marginalized by society? John was Dancing with Jesus.

Over the years, I have often thought about the concept of the “least of these.” Occasionally, I’ve attempted to implement it. At this point, I’d like to Dance with Jesus way more often.

The Least

So, who are the “least” around us, today? Who are the modern lepers? There are two groups that I think fit this category and that I want to actively reach out to. They are not deficient or defective in any way! They may be different.

Group 1: LGBT

For most of my life, society and the Mormon church have viewed gay people in much the same way as lepers were viewed in Christ’s time. They have been the poster child of marginalization. Fortunately, our society is progressing. Perceptions and understandings are changing for the better. However, gay adults and children still face a very difficult road in the LDS community. Parents and siblings also face daunting challenges.

I’ve decided to Dance with Jesus through my beloved gay brothers and sisters. You are my friends. I have your back. I love you.

Group 2: Faith Transitioned Mormons

Until the past couple of years, I would have never considered this a marginalized group. I didn’t even know they existed. Naive and sheltered was I. No more. I have personally witnessed the pain, anguish, and alienation of many members whose faith has been challenged by history and doctrine that seem to have been hidden and obfuscated by the very top church leaders.

Questioning, transitioning or transitioned members have no safe place within the church to discuss and work through their issues. Rather, they are frequently judged as prideful, lazy, sinful or desiring to sin. Often they FEEL alone and shunned. Often they ARE alone and shunned.

So, I am now Dancing with Jesus through my good transitioning brothers and sisters. You are dear friends. I have your back. I love you, no matter what path you choose.

Clueless?

Do I know exactly what I’m doing or how to do it? Nope. Will I stub my toes? Will I step on someone’s feet? Yep. When I first started my ballroom hobby, I had 2 left feet. After lots of work, I’ve advanced to: ½ right foot and 1 ½ left. Progress! In this new dance, I’m pretty sure I can count 3 left feet. But, I’m Dancing with Jesus. He led the leper. He’ll lead me.

Now, on to Dancing with Jesus.

Gay Underwear

Daughter Tries Big Girl Underwear

Long, long ago in the exotic and dreamy land of Texas, my wife and I raised 6 gorgeous daughters. Our third child was almost done with diapers. She was so ready. It had not escaped her notice that the 2 older sisters wore something very different around their waists. Not a clunky diaper like her. Something big kids wear. Something she was determined to wear, too. One day, this bouncy ball of energy confidently strode into the living room. No baby underwear this time. As an eager & innocent child, she had plundered her sisters’ underwear drawer. There she was, regally sporting plural panties. That’s right. Not just one pair, but three, pulled up on her little body. But, wait, there’s more. My cute toddling girl didn’t quite have the knack. She had put both legs through one leg hole and pulled all three panties up over her waist. Her wide & properly proud smile, was met by my ear-to-ear grin. I was working with all my mightiest might to not break out laughing. I’m chuckling as I write. Chuckling at the vision of two tiny legs in one hole, with the other openings dangling at her side.

My daughter’s first attempt at new, big girl attire, was memorable and fun. With a slight correction from mom, she got it right from then on.

This past Sunday, I made my first attempt at something I’ve wanted to do for over 12 months. Probably, like my little girl from years ago, I got it a bit wrong, on my first try. Hopefully, with a little help from mom, I’ll get it right from here on.

Supreme Satisfaction

Over one year ago, a decision from the U.S. Supreme Court legalized gay marriage in all states. My church, the Mormon Church, believes that marriage should be only between a man and a women. It had actively, and for a while, effectively, campaigned against gay marriage. Lots of money and muscle were poured in.

A few weeks after this landmark decision, our highest church leaders sent a letter to every congregation in the United States. Instructions were given to gather all the adults together on a specified Sunday, have the letter read, and then open the floor for questions and discussion.

When the designated day of discussion arrived, a distinguished visitor did too. In the Mormon Church there are a number of high leaders called General Authorities. Only a few years have passed since one of our own was called to this lofty position. A marvelous man by the name of Gifford Nielsen. He and his sweet wife had lived in our neighborhood and raised their kids in our congregation. They are beloved and well known by all. By the way, we refer to a General Authority as ‘Elder.’

The letter was read. Questions were raised. Elder Nielsen stood to direct the discussion. It was all good. Interesting. Informative.

As we considered issues regarding gay people, my heart became heavy. I wanted to do something, but didn’t know how. So, I asked a question that resembled a statement:

“Over the years, several of my friends have been gay. But, at the time, I had no idea. They may not have totally understood where they were at, either. In every case, we lost touch. They just disappeared from sight. Years later, when we reconnected, I discovered that they had come out as gay. Some were divorced. Some never married. Some were still married. All had suffered from rejection, depression, shunning, fear and loss. In every case, I regretted that I had not been there to support my dear friends during this dark, difficult, and lonely period. But, none of them had any confidence in the loyalty of church friends. I don’t want that to EVER happen again. Somehow I want to send the message to all in my circle of acquaintance that I love and accept them if they are gay, no matter what!”

Elder Nielsen’s response was beautiful and direct, “That’s exactly the message the church is sending, that we love everybody.”

His words have haunted me for these past 12 months. What I desperately wanted to do was send a message of love and acceptance to all in my circle of association. Someone, that I know is gay and has not come out yet. I don’t know who he or she is. But, I want them, to know, without any doubt, that I am a true and loyal friend. Gay or straight has no bearing, whatsoever, on my affection and respect for them. Never again, do I want to see a friend suffer alone because he did not trust the faithfulness of my friendship.

Rainbow Ribbon

Ribbonized

And, then, a way forward materialized. Some weeks ago, a few women with concerns like mine, encouraged as many as they could, to wear a rainbow ribbon to church. Its purpose would be to send the very message that Elder Nielsen had voiced last year. The same message that the church wants to send. Hopefully, these good tidings would especially be seen and sensed by those who are struggling to figure out their identity. My church attire now contains the comprehensive color of my rainbow ribbon.

Dad Tries Big Boy Underwear

I took the ribbon one step further. Like my daughter’s donning of 3 pair of underwear, I might be about to, metaphorically, cause a similar comical stare. My first attempt to address a large group of friends, with the hope of giving hope to the hopeless.

In the LDS church (Mormon Church), the first Sunday of every month is reserved for a special type of service. It’s called Testimony meeting. No one is scheduled to speak. The sacrament (communion) is served. Then, the balance to the meeting is open to anyone who wishes to share their spiritual feelings.

Just a little nervous, I sat in the pew with my colorful rainbow pinned in prominent contrast to my black shirt. I had not planned to ‘bear testimony.’ As I sat with the grand kids and listened to the heartfelt testimonies, my heart started to thump…in my throat! It was urging me on, to not let a prime opportunity pass. Elder Nielsen’s message of love rattled in my brain. Off to the podium I confidently strode, with all my queasy uneasiness.

I related the Supreme Court’s pronouncement. Told of my friends who had come out. Shared our General Authority’s concise and comely counsel. Quoted the Book of Mormon, “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God. Quoted Jesus, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.” Not unto the richest, or most respected, or best looking, or most popular. Unto the LEAST. Then we have done it unto Jesus.

Then this, “I love these teachings of Jesus. And, I’m sending a message with my colorful ribbon, that I love everyone in our congregation. No matter what your situation. No matter if someone comes out as different from others. I’m here. Never again should one of us suffer in loneliness. We are all a loving people. I love and support you.”

It’s a simple message, right? A message needed so badly by a somebody so precious. A treasured somebody, who I may never know. A somebody yearning for a glimpse of healing hope.

Now, I hope that my mom, or my friends, will help me make necessary corrections to my message. My little girl got her undies right. I want to tidy up my good tidings. And convey them over and over and over again.

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

Empty Chairs

“There’s a grief that can’t be spoken

There’s a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.

Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me
That I live and you are gone.
There’s a grief that can’t be spoken
There’s a pain goes on and on.”

Friends have left and friends are leaving.
Why, oh why, am I so sad?

For five years, a good friend sat at my side as counselor to me, his bishop. Years later he came out. No friends he could count on. Now, he’s gone.

My close siblings with gay children. November came. Now, they’re gone.

Ten years ago, a leader’s baptismal talk touched me. Passionate, poignant, & perceptive. I still remember what he had to say. Recently, hidden facts of history came out. Now, he’s out. His wife and he are gone.

Twenty-five years ago, I was bishop. A single man, returned missionary, came in to say he was gay. My clueless counsel was to “keep coming”. My clueless action was to take none. Every Sunday, I watched for him. Any Sunday I saw him, my heart melted with joy and relief. He’s still here! For twenty-five years he managed to stay. November came. Now, he’s gone.

A former bishop & his wife, members most of their life. Hidden facts of history came out. Now, they’re out.

This weekend I saw an old friend from 20 years ago. History came out, her husband’s out. Out of the church, not the family. She stays for her kids. But, for how long? I’m concerned that like her husband, she’ll soon be gone. Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere for her to discuss, and for that she longs.

Several more examples, I could give, of friends and family who have left. And, left in just the past 2 years, many since November’s veer.

Why does it sadden me?

That they have chosen a lesser path? No, I don’t believe that. If there is a heaven to get to, that’s exactly where my friends who have gone will go. I wish them joy & godspeed on the road they have chosen. This is a happy thought for me.

But, tears well up. I miss the days when they were reliably in neighboring chairs and tables. Chairs of instruction. Tables of counsel. Chairs of service. Tables of camaraderie, community, & cordiality. Now, empty chairs at empty tables. My friends are gone.

Perhaps, I’m sad from seeing little done to help my friends stay. Questions and doubts must be halted and hidden. “A grief that can’t be spoken.” Or worse, a grief dismissed as if merely token. That is, if they muster the courage to be outspoken.

It’s definitely sad, that one’s orientation is better undisclosed. Love spoken for those closeted unknowns, is proscribed from our expression. After all, in the church none are homosexual. Another “grief that can’t be spoken.”

It makes me sad that I can’t do more to ease the emptying of chairs at tables.

In reality, I am THE only part of the puzzle that I can direct and control. My sadness is causing me to drastically reform my thoughts and actions. Stand silently on the sidelines?…..No Longer! I’m going to stand up for what I have been taught is right, all my life. What I believe in my heart, is right and just and fair.

I’m willing to discuss, to empathize, to understand, to reach out. I’m willing to follow Jesus and love unconditionally. At least, attempt to love in His way. More of my friends are going to leave. That’s OK. But, I want them to know that neither one of us has abandoned the other. We are still friends. Probably, better friends for having supported each other, wholeheartedly, in our respective journeys.

Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me
That I STAY and you are gone.
There’s a grief that can’t be spoken
There’s a pain goes on and on.

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Tag: Pain