The Mormon Alliance – Discouragement, Disappointment, Despair

The Mormon Alliance website is no longer active, but it is still available on archive.org. The case reports of the Mormon Alliance have been an interesting read for me, particularly the volume about gay Mormons. This is the second chapter in the section about gay Mormons (Tony Collette’s From the One is reprinted here).

I think this chapter is of particular interest with the conversations happening in the Moho world today, including Andy’s post on the revelations gay men and women receive in the church, and (Gay) Mormon Guy’s post about love. Jeff M Durning is a pseudonym for a man who is faithful to the church. This is his story and letter to James E Faust, and I think sums up exactly what I would tell a general authority if I get the chance.

The original can be viewed here: http://web.archive.org/web/20060505074947/mormonalliance.org/casereports/volume3/part2/v3p2c10.htm

DISCOURAGEMENT, DISAPPOINTMENT, DESPAIR

Jeff M. Durning1

Summary: After Elder James E. Faust included some material against homosexuality in an address at BYU in November 1994, Jeff M. Durning, a gay man who was celibate and active in the Church, wrote a respectful and thoughtful letter to him in an attempt to explore further dimensions of the topic. Elder Faust telephoned Jeff’s stake president and informed him that one of his stake members was a homosexual who was "content" with his sexual orientation. The stake president promptly scheduled a disciplinary counsel which he said Jeff need not attend. When it was pointed out that Jeff was celibate and, hence, that there were no grounds for action according to the General Handbook of Instructions, the stake president said he would "get back" to Jeff after he had thought about it. Neither he nor his successor (he was released a few months later) has contacted Jeff in the intervening four years.

INTRODUCTION

On 15 November 1994, Elder James E. Faust, in an address, "Trying to Serve the Lord Without Offending the Devil," BYU Devotional, Marriott Center, charged that Mormons who tolerate sin and who are not zealous in righteousness are trying to "serve the Lord without offending the devil." He warned students that "the influence of Satan is becoming more acceptable" in four major areas: the toleration of abortion, a concern with overpopulation, toleration of homosexuality, and divorce. He also denounced some "milder forms of trying to serve the Lord without offending the devil": not opposing laws regulating gambling, alcohol, and drugs, not attending the temple frequently enough, and not asserting strongly Mormonism’s unique claims of being the only true Church.

He then encouraged his listeners to resist Satan by understanding that "he has no authority over us which we do not give him," personal revelation to the obedient, "fasting and prayer," and "industry and work." He concluded by testifying "that there are forces which will save us from the ever-increasing lying, disorder, violence, chaos, destruction, misery, and deceit that are upon the earth. Those saving forces are the everlasting principles, covenants, and ordinances of the eternal gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ ... coupled with the rights and powers of the priesthood of Almighty God. We of this church are the possessors and custodians of these commanding powers which can and do roll back much of the power of Satan on the earth. We believe that we hold these mighty forces in trust for all who have died, for all who are now living, and for the yet unborn."2

This talk generated considerable press comment, particularly Elder Faust’s assertion that "sustainable growth" was a clever "mask" by Satan of "evil designs" under a "socially acceptable phrase."3 In March 1995, after President Howard W. Hunter’s death occasioned the reorganization of the First Presidency, Elder Faust was ordained as second counselor to President Gordon B. Hinckley. The entire talk was reproduced, unaltered except for stylistic editing, as the First Presidency Message in the September 1995 Ensign under the title, "Serving the Lord and Resisting the Devil," pp. 2-7.

Jeff M. Durning, a gay man living in Utah, heard about this address through internet postings, then received a copy from friends who were BYU students and had attended the devotional. He had grown up in Utah Valley and his memories of being attracted to men date back to age four. During his twenties, he had had a homosexual relationship with a young man. After the relationship ended, Jeff counseled with his bishop and felt that the matter was resolved. A successful information manager for a high-tech company, Jeff was celibate, devoted to the Church, and actively striving to live gospel principles; consequently, he was particularly troubled by Elder Faust’s denunciation of homosexuality and his associated reasons:

The Church’s stand on homosexual relations provides another arena where we offend the devil. I expect that the statement of the First Presidency and the Twelve against homosexual marriages will continue to be assaulted. Satan is only interested in our misery, which he promotes by trying to persuade men and women to act contrary to God’s plan. One way he does this is by encouraging the inappropriate use of sacred creative powers. A bona fide marriage is one between a man and a woman solemnized by the proper legal or ecclesiastical authority. Only sexual relations between husband and wife within the bonds of marriage are acceptable before the Lord.


There is some widely accepted theory extant that homosexuality is inherited. How can this be? No scientific evidence demonstrates absolutely that this is so.4 Besides, if it were so, it would frustrate the whole plan of mortal happiness. Our designation as men or women began before this world was. In contrast to the socially accepted doctrine that homosexuality is inborn, a number of respectable authorities contend that homosexuality is not acquired by birth. The false belief of inborn sexual orientation denies to repentant souls the opportunity to change and will ultimately lead to discouragement, disappointment, and despair.


Any alternatives to the legal and loving marriage between a man and a woman are helping to unravel the fabric of human society. I am sure this is pleasing to the devil. The fabric I refer to is the family. These so-called alternative lifestyles must not be accepted as right, because they frustrate God’s commandment for a life-giving union of male and female within a legal marriage as stated in Genesis. If practiced by all adults, these lifestyles would mean the end of the human family.5

Jeff thought about these statements, read the transcript carefully, and then over the next month, prayerfully composed a letter to Elder Faust. Although he took issue with numerous statements in the talk, he focused only on the issue of homosexuality. "I tried to explain my own situation, my own thoughts, and my own feelings on this subject," he said. "The tone was not meant to be confrontational but educational. It turned out to be an emotional letter, but that’s because my emotions were raw on this topic." He asked friends to read it and respond to both the content and the tone. After careful revisions and many drafts, he wrote the final version of the following seventeen-page document to Elder Faust on 20 February 1995, President’s Day, and mailed it the next day.

JEFF’S LETTER

Dear Elder Faust,

I am perhaps a little late in writing this letter but I wanted to share with you several thoughts regarding a talk you gave a while ago during a BYU devotional. That talk has been on my mind for quite some time; and over the past several weeks, I have noticed the great influence it has had on the lives of those around me and the effects it has had on my own life as well. For this, I am very grateful. A significant change has occurred in my life as a result of that talk. I feel a great deal of renewed hope within my soul and a stronger dedication to serving others and helping them in their own search for truth. If I may, I’d like to share my testimony with you. One of the wonderful gifts that came from hearing about your talk was the desire in my heart to share my testimony and talk about my own spiritual growth as well as make a plea for help over a few concerns I have come across.

I realize that my testimony is similar to that of many others and that I may not have anything new to say that hasn’t already been expressed by the countless individuals who are experiencing the same situation that I face. I know I’ve heard those stories many times from many people; and rather than being just another witness of the mysterious ways in which God works in our lives, I want to further address a particular issue by asking some questions that perhaps can prepare all of us to better love and serve our precious brothers and sisters who are affected by this situation. The situation I am referring to is homosexuality. Although this was not the central theme of your talk, you touched on several ideas in relation to it that were the inspiration for this letter.

I write this because I am homosexual. And if I may be so bold, I believe I speak for many of my homosexual friends and acquaintances, for their experiences are quite similar to mine. I am a homosexual who has found spiritual peace and resolution over an issue that has plagued my life with years of pain and tremendous confusion. I am a homosexual who has had the faith to let our Heavenly Father work his miraculous power of healing and bring about a change in my life that I never expected nor ever thought possible. You see, I am a homosexual who is grateful for being a homosexual. Without this gift, I doubt that I would ever have truly found my Father in Heaven.

The change of heart I am talking about is best described by an experience related to me through a close friend. My friend struggled with his homosexuality for much of his life. He served a mission and later married with the intent of overcoming his homosexuality. He spoke to me about the long hours of prayer throughout his life in which he pled with God to remove his homosexual feelings. His frustration led him to ask "Why me?" and "Why won’t you take these feelings from me?" He fought his homosexuality, trying everything he could to change. Along with feeling a desperate need to change, my friend felt a great deal of self-hatred, shame, and self-pity. His prayers were always the same; and to his disappointment, the answers to his prayers were, likewise, always the same. He remained depressed. He remained frustrated. And he remained homosexual.

Then one day a change did occur. It was such a healing change that as he spoke about it, I could feel the Spirit that had touched my friend with such a beautiful sense of peace and love. Instead of praying for change, my friend prayed for forgiveness—forgiveness for wanting to remove something from his life that had a significance that only God had understood. My friend prayed in gratitude. He was grateful that he was homosexual. He thanked his Father in Heaven for that gift. He was thankful that he had the opportunity to suffer so that he might learn compassion. He was thankful that he had struggled with such intensity so that he might gain strength and experience growth. He was thankful that he had confronted confusion and shame so that he might find truth and acceptance of the love that he feels. He was grateful that God did not remove his homosexuality so that he might continue to learn the invaluable lessons that God had waiting for him.

And once my friend realized the beautiful gift that he had been given, he was no longer frustrated, no longer depressed, and no longer confused. The self-pity and self-hatred were dissolved, and serenity and comfort filled his soul. He experienced a healing that did not require him to change his homosexuality but rather to change his beliefs about homosexuality. His weaknesses were made into strengths. His courage and faith were magnified. His life, still filled with challenges, is one that can now be faced with hope and happiness. The fruits of this experience are apparent. His testimony continues to bear this out. As does mine. As do the testimonies of countless individuals who have experienced the same shift from self-hatred to self-acceptance. The greatest change that I have noticed in the lives of the homosexuals I have encountered is not in "overcoming" our homosexuality but in accepting our homosexuality and in finding the spiritual meaning associated with it, a meaning that is a source of wealth we never dreamed of, a source of wealth that perhaps only those who deal with this issue can fully understand.

I am grateful to you and other men like you who address the topic of homosexuality because, in a very amazing way, it leads us to a greater understanding and compassion that we often never expect. I truly believe that God works in mysterious ways. Too often we tend to want to "fix’ problems and attempt to do so from our very limited understanding, or else we expect our Heavenly Father to "fix" things for us. In essence, we are attempting to do good or cause righteousness to come to pass; but due to our lack of wisdom and charity, we often seek it in the wrong place or in the wrong way instead of quietly listening to the Lord and the Spirit within our hearts where the truth actually resides. In other words, we are often surprised at the outcome of our efforts, whether they be efforts to change or to educate or to express love to another individual. And these surprises are simply another line or precept added to the line or precept that we thought was our destiny when in reality, it was merely another step along the way to greater and greater understanding.

To illustrate this, I want to share an excerpt from a letter that I received from another close friend this past Christmas. I was pleasantly surprised by a change of heart that I experienced upon reading his letter. At first I was upset by a certain paragraph because I did not understand it and I clung to an old way of thinking that was keeping me from progressing. In this letter, my friend is writing to the Lord his wishes for the new year. His request was this:

Do not, please, give me/us world peace; do not remove hunger, homelessness, AIDS, racism, homophobia, and war from my/our midst. Do not, most especially, simply wipe away all that we have done to hurt our fragile, magnificent home: Help me/us, rather, to solve these problems on my/our own. "Salvation"- true "salve-ation"- is to be found in our discovery of trust and compassion.

In that one elegant paragraph, my friend helped me to see something in a way that I had never before considered. I was being reminded (as I had been reminded by the friend I mentioned earlier) that the answer is not to ask God to make our problems go away, but rather to help us understand and appreciate ourselves and develop the wisdom to find our own answers. If we truly believe that we are children of our Father in Heaven, then we must believe that we have the capacity to find answers and work together on reconciling our differences. This, I believe, is how God works. Through us.

Although you and I may approach the issue of homosexuality from different perspectives, I believe that much can be gained by working together. Rather than wishing that homosexuality would disappear, perhaps God has a purpose for his homosexual children that we have yet to discover. This is obvious to me, since so many homosexuals have not had their homosexuality removed neither through God’s grace and mercy, nor through the hard work of the homosexuals themselves. There is clearly something more to be learned, some wisdom to be had, some charity to be developed. And perhaps, as we explore this issue, we may find some unexpected answers as I have done.

I have learned some beautiful concepts from my friends. I have also learned a great many things from talks such as yours. I have learned things that I never expected, things that go well beyond the mere words we use to communicate. The message in your talk has inspired many people, each in a unique way. And hopefully, it has resulted in hearts that have changed, as it did with me, again in a unique way. For me, my gratitude comes because your message gives me/us another chance to reexamine reality, to foster an atmosphere for meaningful discussion, and to ask relevant questions. These questions, in turn, lead to growth and new understanding, hence, greater capacity for charity. I have been reminded that we certainly need more answers; that the answers we cling to presently are incredibly insufficient. I have been reminded that the path is not an easy one. In fact, for many of us, it is a very painful process, but one that provides opportunity for spiritual strength.

One of the great blessings and mighty changes that has occurred in my life as a result of your talk is that I have been inspired to add to my own testimony, to continue to search for truth, and to share my testimony with others. I have been inspired to be of greater service in my efforts to educate others and help ease the pain that surrounds those dealing with this particular issue. I have been inspired to let my voice be heard and to no longer remain silent. I know there is a tremendous need to help bring about compassion and kindness towards homosexuals. There is a need for understanding. I am inspired to be a greater influence in helping others to experience the beautiful change that I have experienced. For these blessings, I am grateful.

Please allow me to share with you my story briefly and what I have learned from my experience. My story is actually quite common. I come from a strong Mormon family. My father was a bishop and my mother served in the Relief Society presidency of our ward. As I was growing up, I strove to be as perfect as possible. I was a top student in school and seminary. I went on a mission and graduated from BYU with top honors. Spirituality was always a major focus in my life. I developed a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and attempted my best to live its principles. From all appearances, I seemed to be a model Mormon.

In actuality I was a terrific hypocrite. For much of my life, I lived a deception, lying to those around me as well as to myself. And I believed that my deception, my hypocrisy, was noble. I hid my true feelings from everyone. I was ashamed because, as I grew older, I realized that society and the Church had a very ugly description of what I was feeling. These were feelings that I had experienced from the earliest of my memories, beginning at the age of four. These feelings, I would later learn, were considered homosexual. And I fought it. I fought myself. This fight was my ticket to acceptance. And many times I was sure that I had won the fight.

I didn’t realize that I was fighting my very essence. I appeared so secure on the outside, but inside I was dying. My secret thoughts of death and self-hatred were abundantly apparent. My journals are saturated with references of hatred, loneliness, anger, and fear. I had no one to turn to, no one to talk to. I dated girls in an attempt to change my feelings. I counseled with priesthood leaders who admitted that they knew little about homosexuality. I threw myself into my studies and Church service. My prayers were unending.

I have a great testimony of prayer. It has always proven to be a spiritual strength in my life. My prayers are always answered. And I wondered with great disappointment why God was not answering my prayers to change my homosexuality. There were times when I thought I had changed and I expressed this to my priesthood leaders. They were convinced. But in my heart something always whispered that I was no different.

Then my prayers were answered miraculously over time as I fell in love. My heart had finally been prepared to accept the love that flowed from my soul. This was the single most beautiful experience in my entire life. The impact of this relationship overshadowed everything I had ever experienced. I learned so much and grew in ways I never thought possible. This love was for another man. This love was as rich as the love I’ve seen with any heterosexual. In fact, many of my heterosexual friends were jealous that they weren’t experiencing such a deep and meaningful love.

Then over the course of the next several years, I began my journey of truly understanding what it meant to be homosexual as well as truly understanding what the gospel meant in my heart. It would take me hundreds of pages to tell the full story. I have much of it recorded in my journals, letters, and other notes. But for the sake of this letter, I wanted to touch on a few key points.

My relationship ended with a great deal of pain. My companion, who was also struggling with his homosexual feelings, was instructed by his priesthood leaders to cut me out of his life completely. He did just that. With all contact severed and not much of an explanation, my world crashed upon me. I hit the bottom and was about to give up everything. I wanted nothing more than to simply die. And as I tried looking for answers, I was exposed to talks by Church leaders who addressed the issue of homosexuality. They spoke in much the same way that you did recently. And though I had heard those concepts presented many times, I still felt as though something was not quite right. All of the explanations, all of the counsel, did not match with my experience. I had so many questions that needed to be answered. And I was determined to find those answers or die. I prayed to my Father in Heaven with an energy I had never before prayed with, asking God to either end my life or to help me understand and to give me comfort.

And the answers came. The comfort and understanding came. They came in miraculous ways that were a stronger witness to me of God’s involvement in my life than any other experience I’ve ever had. For the next several years, up to and including the present time, I have gained a spiritual connection with God that finally means a great deal to me. As I studied the gospel and researched the issue of homosexuality, I finally found a sense of peace and reconciliation that filled my soul with joy. Miracles occurred in my life. The scriptures were rich in meaning. My prayers were being answered. And I was glad to be alive. I literally felt a rebirth in my life. I experienced a change. And that change was to accept my homosexuality as a gift from God and to know that the love I felt was beautiful. The fruits of this experience have been good. I continue to learn and grow. And I have a strong desire to share my testimony with others.

But I still have a lot of questions. And I have several concerns as I have gotten to know many homosexuals and studied the research that has been done. I can clearly see that the current situation is not a productive one. Too much suffering still exists. Answers are not sought enough to help soften this suffering. We are not working together yet to show genuine charity to our homosexual brothers and sisters.

One of the ideas in your talk seems to be that you discard the biological evidence because you hold to the idea that if one were born homosexual, then God’s plan would be frustrated; homosexuals would be less likely to change, which would lead to discouragement, disappointment and despair. First of all, I appreciate the kindness you exhibit in wanting to help homosexuals who face discouragement, disappointment, and despair. I very much respect your integrity in being considerate of the feelings that homosexuals have. I believe that is a Christ-like virtue and that many would do well in learning from your example. So rarely do people stop to even consider the legitimate emotions and feelings that homosexuals tend to deal with on a daily basis. Instead, people often make rash judgments that completely sidestep the real issue. So again, I am grateful to your sensitivity in wanting to ease the burden that homosexuals feel. But I would like to point out a few things that perhaps you have not yet considered.

People often assume that homosexuals are unhappy because we are homosexual and struggle to be freed from this condition. The more research I do, the more people I truly get to know, and the more I pray and search for answers spiritually, the more I am struck with the fact that homosexuality itself is not the cause of unhappiness. And discouragement, disappointment, and despair are not caused by theories or testimonies that discourage homosexuals from changing.

It is true that homosexuals do experience discouragement, disappointment, and despair. I believe that everyone experiences these feelings. Likewise, homosexuals also experience peace, contentment, and fulfillment. We experience happiness, joy, and love. When people assume that the only feelings we experience are discouragement, disappointment, and despair, then these people do a great disservice to themselves and to homosexuals. They fail to take into account all of the beautiful feelings that accompany feelings of loving someone and being loved in return. They also fail to make the simple connection that feelings of discouragement, disappointment, and despair are actually caused by many other factors which attempt to discredit the feelings that we are experiencing.

When a homosexual realizes that the feelings he or she has are scorned and scoffed at, he or she soon experiences confusion and doubts his or her own self-worth. This condition ultimately leads to discouragement, disappointment, and despair. To a homosexual, his or her feelings of love are genuine. These feelings are not focused on sex. They are focused on the relationship, a relationship as beautiful and as meaningful as any heterosexual relationship. The experiences and feelings that build these relationships are real. One cannot flippantly disregard this. Homosexuals feel love as deeply as anyone else. We feel joy with our loved ones. We feel sorrow in separation. We feel at peace in our commitments. We feel pain in misunderstanding. We experience emotions that all people experience. Our reality must never be ignored. The feelings we experience are not something to be ashamed of; these feelings are something we treasure. To love another and to be loved is something we all value. It is no different for a homosexual. But when one is constantly advised to look upon his or her feelings of love with contempt, then great emotional damage is inevitable. It is a terrible injustice to invalidate a person’s capacity to love another.

It is even more insidious to invalidate our spirituality. This is often what happens next. A high percentage of homosexuals are deeply spiritual. We serve in many Church callings, as teachers, counselors, and bishops. Our devotion to the gospel is often unmatched. Our pain from misunderstanding is also unmatched. Many have sought guidance from God with tremendous faith and diligence. Fasting, prayer, scripture study, and service have been the tools for many who seek the truth. Many have prayed for countless hours, following well-intentioned advice, only to find that our homosexual feelings have not changed.

As many homosexuals go through the usual routine of trying to change our orientation, feeling ashamed of who we are, battling feelings of discouragement, disappointment, and despair, we often look to God for the answers. And we find them. In turning to God, we learn to accept ourselves and value ourselves as homosexuals. We receive answers to prayers that let us know that we are okay, that we can stop trying to change because change is not intended for us. We often feel a closeness with God and his Spirit as never before. We have been broken and contrite and open to the love that God has given us. We have deeply profound spiritual experiences, including an awareness that our homosexuality has a purpose and that we are valued in God’s sight as homosexuals. These spiritual experiences are real and have incredible significance. They change people’s lives without changing our orientation.

Then, too often, when we try to share these experiences, we are laughed at and, again, invalidated. We are told that we can’t possibly feel anything spiritual. We are told that the answers we are receiving are not from God. This sort of invalidation is poisonous. If you want to consider the path leading ultimately to discouragement, disappointment, and despair, this type of invalidation is the epitome of the breeding grounds for those feelings. When homosexuals have nowhere else to turn but God, and we plead with him in desperation, determination, humility, and sincerity and are ultimately led to a sense of spiritual peace and rebirth in connection with acceptance of our homosexuality, only to be mocked—then what else is there? Are we to believe that even God has abandoned us? What sort of God would not hear the cries of his confused children and open his arms with mercy and truth? And when homosexuals do experience that mercy and truth and we are told that it wasn’t God after all, then what are we to trust? If fasting and prayer lead to a spiritual rebirth which is then scoffed at, where else can we turn? We risk believing that we are worthless in God’s sight, that he really doesn’t love us after all, that we are inherently flawed and without hope. Discouragement. Disappointment. Despair.

Is it any wonder why so many commit suicide? Is it any wonder why so many leave the Church feeling betrayed and embittered? I am amazed at the hundreds of individuals I’ve encountered who have never felt love, support, compassion, or kindness from the Church. Instead we feel a sense of betrayal, rejection, and condemnation. We are turned away, cast out. Fortunately, many of us are able to validate our spiritual experiences within our own hearts and recognize the love and light of God within us. Many of us are able to take up our spiritual journeys on our own without the crutch of an unaccepting organization. Many of us are able to turn the other cheek and forgive as we strive to help those who are like them along the same path. Many know what it means to be truly Christ-like. I have personally seen countless lives turn from discouragement to hope, from disappointment to gratitude, from despair to happiness as these homosexuals come to value who they are rather than change into something they are not.

It is unfortunate that we often get caught up in the debate over causation as if this debate could be at all productive in the first place. I assure you, it will not be. The very fact that homosexuality exists in nature immediately complicates the argument. Research has shown that all mammals studied show incidence of homosexual behavior. One can read about homosexual gulls or mountain sheep that are exclusively homosexual throughout their life-time. BYU is currently doing research with rats to demonstrate the hormonal influences and prenatal development links to homosexuality. The evidence of homosexuality in animals would suggest that nature has a reason for same-sex orientation. Indeed, respected authorities have discussed the possible advantages in a small percentage of a population’s being homosexual. I suppose one could argue that animals, too, learned their behavior or became homosexual following some incident shortly after birth, but this seems absurd to most people.

Then there is the issue of intersexuality. Part of the problem in understanding homosexuality is the inability of some to get beyond the notion that gender is not simply a definition of male and female. The evidence of a significant percentage of children born with intersex characteristics can help us to understand that nature does not produce stereotypical males and females only. The physical gender of some individuals is often ambiguous. The emotional, psychological, and even spiritual dimensions of gender are even less obvious and often cross the lines between what we consider male and female more than we can even begin to comprehend.

For those who wish to believe that homosexuality is an acquired condition, it is convenient to point toward a few respected authorities and even disrespected authorities who claim this to be the case. Those who lean toward biological roots can also find many respected authorities to justify their position. In fact, as research goes, more studies show that popular environmental theories are sorely lacking and that biological research is producing more promising information. While it is true that biological factors are currently inconclusive, so too are environmental factors. If one is to dismiss biology on the basis of a lack of definitive answers then it would be only fair to also dismiss environmental explanations for the same reason. To do otherwise is scientifically irresponsible. Some say that there is no scientific evidence to show that homosexuality is inborn even though several studies have shown distinct differences in the brain structures of homosexual men vs. heterosexual men. To think that homosexual behavior could produce these differences is a possibility but highly unlikely. No two homosexuals are alike. Our lives, our behaviors are as vastly different as those who are heterosexual.

Furthermore, there is no environmental "formula" for producing a homosexual orientation. Theories involving gender identity, emotional deficits, abuse, etc., quickly lead nowhere because environmental elements attributed to homosexuality are not found across the board among homosexuals. Furthermore, these elements can be found in the lives of many heterosexuals. To make assumptions about one’s childhood is both unfair and cruel. One therapy group at BYU insists that homosexuality is caused by childhood abuse. These so-called highly respected authorities immediately try to convince homosexuals that they were abused as children. And when the homosexual student fails to recall any incidents of abuse in his childhood, he is told that his memories have been blocked but that a deeper examination will eventually bring the abuse to the surface. These therapists are quick to point at any indication of discord as abusive. If the homosexual agrees that his relationship with an adult, usually a father or other male figure, encountered any problems, then that is used as evidence of abuse. This type of therapy can only tear families apart. The accusations which are meant to help the homosexual in reality only create new dilemmas, once again leading to discouragement, disappointment, and despair.

Regardless of which theory is followed, it seems apparent that same-sex orientation is established at a very early age, well before the age of accountability. I am not suggesting that people (whether homosexual or heterosexual) must not be accountable for their actions; I am saying that no one chooses his or her sexual orientation. Further studies and testimonies of countless homosexuals have also indicated that sexual orientation is not easily changeable for many and practically impossible for most.

At this point, the truth is simply that no one knows the cause. No one knows the cause of heterosexuality either. When all is said and done, does it really matter whether sexuality is biological, environmental, or a combination of the two? We tend to look at research and respected authorities to support our own opinions.

Perhaps we can look beyond "professionals" to provide answers. Perhaps we can start by understanding the homosexuals themselves. I am continually amazed at how many theories are developed, how much advice is given, and how often judgments are pronounced by heterosexuals who base their theories, advice, and judgments on their own experience. Where, in all of this, are the voices of the homosexuals? It is baffling to think that so few people would take the time to actually talk with those of same-sex orientation and try to understand the feelings and experiences of those who are homosexual. It is particularly sad that, in the Church, the voices of the homosexuals are silenced. Are we to believe that our opinions, our feelings, our experiences, our very reality is irrelevant or invalid? Are we to believe that God does not look on our hearts and feelings and see them as something real? Instead of relying on "professionals," I believe we might do as many homosexuals have done and look to God for answers. We might look to God and inside our hearts, for that is where God speaks to us. And he does speak to us. All of us. Including homosexuals. It is a shame that people don’t realize this.

We might also be asking questions rather than clinging to ill-informed opinions passed from one generation to the next, believing in false traditions. I realize that many are afraid to ask questions because questions may lead to answers we are not prepared for. But questions are good. They are, in fact, necessary. If it weren’t for asking questions, Joseph Smith would never have inquired of the Lord and restored the gospel. If it weren’t for asking questions, the blacks still might not have the priesthood. God expects us to ask, seek, knock. We should study things out in our minds and then inquire of him. Certainly, we must be asking questions regarding homosexuality. This is an area of great concern to many people.

Many people are suffering. This tremendous pain touches the lives of parents, siblings, and friends in addition to the homosexuals themselves. This issue is fraught with so much emotion that people can scarcely discuss it rationally. Too often, the suffering is so intense that suicide results. How many more lives must be lost? How many hearts must be crushed? How many souls must be abused? How many—before we are able to reach out in love instead of condemnation? We must seek answers. We must not stop asking questions.

Some might think we already have the answers. Why, then, are they not working? The supposed answers we think we have are grossly inadequate. The indescribable suffering of so many is an evidence of this. The endless testimonies of troubled men and women faced with the issues of same-sex orientation have shown that we do not yet have the answers. Though well-intended, they are simply missing the mark. There is a constant stream of personal stories relating our attempts to change our orientation. We have done everything we were told to do. Still no change. All the fasting and prayers, scripture reading, and service have not changed our orientation. Some have gone above and beyond what we were told with extra determination and dedication, going the extra mile, and still no change.

Shock therapy was billed as a promising new cure. After years of treating homosexuals with this painful therapy, it was abandoned by virtually all professionals because it yielded no results, only scars. Many homosexuals were counseled to marry. They were told that once they were involved in a heterosexual relationship, their homosexual feelings would disappear. Years later, these men and women realized with discouragement, disappointment, and despair that their feelings have not changed. Not only have they failed to arrive at the results promised to them, they have now involved others who have become innocent victims of misguided advice. Fortunately, homosexuals are no longer advised to get married as a way of resolving their situation.6 But the idea of change continues to pressure homosexual men and women into marriages that are doomed to disaster. The very essence of change is to fulfill a marriage. That is the end goal. Yet too often, these marriages end bitterly. Some are able to part as friends. Few ever succeed. The tragic testimonies of spouses and ex-spouses who are so emotionally damaged by these marriages can fill volumes. And this pain doesn’t stop in the telling. It continues with these wives and husbands for many years. I have merely touched on a few of the "answers" that were given to homosexuals: answers that appear to have merit but that ultimately lead to discouragement, disappointment and despair.

Perhaps we think we have the answers because there are some who have claimed change. I don’t doubt this. I do believe there are people who may have felt homosexual at one time but are no longer experiencing a same-sex attraction. I realize that many in the Church would like to believe that a substantial number of men and women have indeed changed their orientation. The Church in general believes that it has had enough experience with "changed homosexuals" to conclude that change is not only possible for some but must be possible for all. This rationale is not only unfounded and irresponsible but damaging and dangerous. First of all, we are dealing with a very complex situation. The notion that people are either homosexual or heterosexual is false. There are many who have feelings of varying degrees in one direction, or another or both. Sexual orientation is a continuum. Those claiming change are likely to be those who had fewer homosexual tendencies and more heterosexual tendencies. Some who claim change do so prematurely under pressure from society, only to return to their homosexuality later.

And then there’s the problem of defining "change." Many who claim to have changed are merely talking about their behavior. They will readily admit that their feelings remain unchanged. I have yet to hear from a homosexual who claims to have changed his feelings from completely homosexual to completely heterosexual. Where are all of the so-called "cured" homosexuals? Why aren’t they talking? Surely if there were as many as the Church would have us believe, then we would hear more from them, yet we do not. The voices of those who have not changed obliterate the few testimonies of those who have. Why are these voices ignored when there are so many? Why does the Church present only one side of the issue? This is a side that is not represented by most homosexuals. It is a side that is representative of conformity born out of shame, threats, and pressure.

Why are the stories of those who cannot change never told? Why are the stories of those who find happiness through acceptance never told? What about the stories of the spouses of homosexuals? Why are they overlooked? I fear that the general membership of the Church is being misled, not only by stories based on deception but from a lack of other perspectives which are either ignored or often withheld.

I also think we must be cautious about being quick to slap labels of change on individuals without looking at several things first. One of these things is the definition of change which I mentioned previously. Another is the condition upon which change is declared. Many testimonies of change have been given under pressure and coercion. I have heard many people relate stories in which they lied about being changed in order to stop the constant pressure and questioning they were receiving from those who were demanding change. Many other testimonies were quite sincere at the time, but premature. I’ve known countless people who have "changed" for days, weeks, months, even years only to arrive at the conclusion that they had only suppressed their feelings during that period of time, lying to themselves and deceiving those around them. This is not uncommon. Perhaps we should be careful not to classify someone as a changed homosexual until decades have passed without same-sex attraction.

It is one thing to be able to casually claim that there are numerous homosexuals who have changed. It is quite another to relate the personal experiences of many from this group of "success stories." Allow me to give you a brief sampling of those I’ve come in contact with. I have several friends who went through various therapies and counseling and were pronounced "cured." That was several months or several years ago. These men and women are still homosexual and laugh at the idea that they are being used as a statistic of change. A therapist at BYU said that of those homosexuals who go into counseling with a very strong desire to change, only 15 percent actually claim that they have changed. This therapist then went on to say that he didn’t even believe those 15 percent because inevitably, as time passed, these men and women were involved homosexually again sometime later. He could point to files filled with testimonies of change. Of these testimonies, he said, they weren’t worth the paper they were written on.

I know of several married men who are championed as changed homosexuals. All of these men have also had extramarital affairs recently. I can think of a dozen such men off the top of my head. One of these men has written many testimonies and has spoken about his changed condition to many homosexuals. And yet this man continues to cheat on his wife with other men. How does he do it? He claims he has changed. In reality, he has just become a skilled liar. He calls his affairs "set-backs" and temporary temptations. And yet these temporary temptations and set-backs continue to happen, but as long as he believes he is changing, he feels comfortable about cheating on his wife. I find this type of behavior shocking and inexcusable. But as long as he is on a pedestal as one deserving respect because he claims change, then he will continue to live this lie. I cannot respect that.

Often we are creating conditions that appear to be of value on the surface but in reality are doing more damage than good. Surely the man who is cheating on his wife because he has the title of a "changed homosexual" is not something we should be proud of. It is sad when we have to place women, children, and the homosexuals themselves in a position that satisfies what people want to hear at the sacrifice of the innocent lives involved. How many of those "cured" homosexuals are actually fulfilled in their marriages? I can introduce you to several who are not. I can introduce you to men who regret following the advice they were given to get married. I can introduce you to men who think daily about committing suicide as a way of escaping. I can introduce you to men who are so ashamed of themselves that they blame their wives for their misery. I can also introduce you to countless wives who have been emotionally and psychologically scarred at levels that cut so deep that many are never able to trust or love again. The road of injuries is just beginning for these women. The suffering touches so many lives.

One man, who was used extensively as an example of someone who had changed, recently committed suicide because he could not bear to live the lie any longer. The pressure of upholding a false image was too much and he took his own life. What price are we willing to pay to be able to point to a few "success stories?" What is the cost in human life and emotion to do this? Why do we continue to point to a few testimonies padded with a few more flawed testimonies at the expense of those witnesses to the contrary?

I was one of those statistics. I claimed change. I was used as an example to other homosexuals as one who had overcome my sexuality. And I am embarrassed by that. I no longer wish to support such a lie. I want others to know that I haven’t changed. I don’t want to be used as proof that everyone can change because everyone cannot change. That is a fact. I am one of those people who cannot change their orientation. That is a fact. I have tried to do that very thing for the greater part of my life. And most people who take the time to research information on homosexuality or even talk to a fair sampling of homosexuals will realize and conclude that most homosexuals are unable to alter their orientation. That is a fact.

Yes, there may be some homosexuals who have changed. And that is also a fact. But just because a few people claim change, does not mean that their experiences translate into the lives of the remaining homosexuals. These things simply cannot be applied across the board. Most homosexuals can testify of the futility of change. Most have tried it and nearly all have realized that change is not possible for them and, eventually, not even desirable. Why fix something that isn’t broken? And why is it that some can change and some cannot? I know it would make a lot of people very comfortable if they could simply say, "Well, if some can change, then of course all of them can change." Too bad it’s not that simple. With that reasoning, all heterosexuals should be able to change their orientation, too, a notion that I find ridiculous.

There are so many factors involved with orientation that at this point it is impossible to say why a few can change and why so many cannot. A particularly destructive form of reasoning is that those who cannot change have not tried hard enough. What is hard enough? How much suffering is hard enough? Too many homosexuals have done all that was asked of us and more. We have attempted at great cost to change, going beyond what was required of us, and still we were denied change. If God required change, then his denial of that change to all those who have earnestly attempted to change is viciously inconsistent. His silence is cruel. What sort of God would do this to his children? If God wanted his homosexual children to become heterosexual, then why does he make it so difficult, if not impossible, for us to gain that? Does he have a particular dislike for us? Are we of little importance? Does he require us to knock at the door until our knuckles are bloodied? Does he require us to cry in discouragement, disappointment, and despair; and if we lose hope along the way, then too bad? Will he say, "You didn’t try hard enough"? Will he say, "You needed to bleed more. You needed to suffer more"?

The God I worship is kind and loving. He is compassionate and eager to embrace. He does not withhold his love and understanding. He does not withhold answers from those who seek them. He does not require a life of blood-letting for a condition not chosen in the first place. Many people assume that homosexuals must suffer a great deal in our struggle to change because that suffering must match the severity of the "sin." The plaster must be as wide as the crack. The pain must be as excruciating as the problem. This simplistic way of thinking immediately has many inconsistencies. First of all, do other transgressors of the law of chastity suffer to this extent? I doubt it. Why are they not required to knock until their knuckles are bloodied? They can resolve their transgression through a meaningful marriage or a recommitment to marriage. While this may not be an easy thing to do and I don’t mean to detract from the serious pain involved, I do want to point out a difference. Their repentance doesn’t negate their feelings. They are not required to stop loving. They are not required to view their love as evil. They are not told repeatedly that the feelings they have are not really feelings of love. They are not told that their feelings will never be fulfilled because they are not a part of God’s plan. They are not required to hear disparaging remarks about the love that they feel. There is a difference.

Another inconsistency with the idea that homosexuals have such difficulty in change because the sin is so deeply rooted is the assumption that all homosexuals are acting on their feelings. I have heard the testimonies of many homosexuals who never acted on their feelings but struggled with intense pain for years, even decades, over something that was such a part of them even though they had never behaved homosexually. Certainly, if we were to believe that these people could then be changed without such suffering because there was no sin, then again it would be cruel for God to deny them change and demand instead a lifelong struggle of tormented and misunderstood feelings. It is not merely a behavior.

Why is it that so many people can’t see past the sexual aspects of homosexuality? Indeed, it is unfortunate that sex is the root of the word homosexuality because sex certainly is not at the heart of same-sex orientation for many, if not most homosexuals. It would be equally preposterous to assume that sex is the main focus for heterosexuals. By definition, a homosexual is not someone who is having sex. It is someone who experiences same-sex attraction. It is a person who finds fulfillment in the companionship of someone of his or her own gender. It involves feelings. I reiterate, we love and want to be loved just like anyone else.

Perhaps it is impossible for some people to understand this. And because they can’t understand this, they must imagine all sorts of distorted views to help them ignore the idea that we feel love. They imagine that we are confused about our gender. We are not gender-confused. We are not afraid or ashamed or disconnected from our gender. They imagine that we are suffering from an addiction. The need to love and be loved is not an addiction. We can be just as responsible and respectful of our feelings and our sexuality as anyone. They imagine that we are not happy. We are very happy. Our unhappiness comes from an intolerant and ignorant society. It comes from the confusion of misinformation and the shame associated with homosexuality. When people can’t even discuss the topic without acting embarrassed, then we must expect those who experience homosexual feelings to have internalized that self-doubt and self-hatred. This is where the unhappiness lies. We are unhappy because we are not allowed to love. We are denied the opportunity to marry those whom we bond with. We are not even allowed to talk about our loved ones. The love that we experience is, in fact, discredited. Discouragement. Disappointment. Despair.

Another theme to your talk seems to be that the idea of social correctness is a false doctrine. While I do not intend to discuss social correctness here, I do wish to point out the message that seems to be coming across, not only in your talk but in the talks of many leaders who have spoken about homosexuality. The message seems to be that society errs in trying to understand and be tolerant of homosexuals. The message seems to be that homosexuals should not be accepted for who we are, but that we should be subject to condemnation, discrimination, and, ultimately, ostracism. Indeed, the message simply seems to be that homosexuals are deserving of hatred, abuse, and even death. I realize this sounds terribly strong and not at all what you or other leaders intended. I realize that you believe in compassion, kindness, and charity. I realize that you would not condone violence, prejudice, or persecution toward any of God’s children.

But a message of love and compassion is not reaching the general membership. Quite the contrary, a message that helps promote persecution is being delivered. I have yet to hear something nice said about homosexuals over the pulpit. Attributes that often are linked to homosexuality (such as sensitivity or artistic abilities) are never mentioned. People fail to recognize the great contributions to society and culture that homosexuals have given. And, yes, these qualities are linked to our homosexuality. Talk with several homosexuals, and we can testify to this. But instead of recognizing the worth that homosexuals have, too often speakers tend to mock and malign those of a same-sex orientation. We are grouped with pedophiles and murderers. We are called threats to the Church. We are labeled as perverts and sinners. We are joked about and made to feel shame. Often times, even the mention of homosexuality seems to evoke feelings of fear and disgust. How do you think this makes a homosexual feel? Discouraged? Disappointed? Despairing?

One has only to listen to the general membership talk about homosexuality to see the impact that these messages have. Recently a BYU student defended his prejudice towards homosexuals in a letter to the editor, saying that the Church requires him to be prejudiced. Another student at UVSC threatened physical violence towards homosexuals because they were not living according to the teachings of the Church. A woman whom I work with regularly bashes homosexuals verbally with a rage and a hatred that are frightening. She would like to see them all dead. She uses quotes from talks such as yours to defend her stance. She feels justified in her bigotry because a Church leader has, in essence, given her permission to hate. I recently came across this message posted on a local on-line bulletin board. At one point the author states, "In fact, Elder Faust [in a] BYU devotional ... detailed the evils of tolerance. He said that Satan wants us to tolerate homosexuals, pro-choicers and other religions. So I’ll claim for the moment that not only is tolerance not a moral virtue, in the Church, it’s a sin!"

The best friend I ever had turned against me at the promptings of his Church leadership. He was urged to completely sever all contact with me because of my orientation. He used the oft-misused statement of "love the sinner, but hate the sin" as justification for cutting me off. He said many hurtful things that have caused my heart to ache and cry over the past four years when he told me he never wanted to speak to me again.

He has perfected his hatred and intolerance of the sin that he perceives I have committed. I have yet to see any love. I am afraid that my most meaningful relationship has been destroyed because he was taught that rejection and meanness toward homosexuals were requirements and that kindness, empathy, and friendship towards homosexuals were unacceptable.

This is only a small sampling of recent remarks I have heard which seem to be running rampant in the Church. As I listen to accounts by friends and acquaintances, I am shocked and troubled by the vast amount of persecution that exists towards homosexuals. Have we not learned from our own past of persecution as a Church to see that this is wrong? As I have listened to remarks such as these, I have noticed that the most bitter, hateful people who fight against the understanding of homosexuality are often quick to back their statements with the words of the Church leadership. Isn’t it ironic that hatred is masked behind good intentions? Why do people do this? Why do they hate? Why do they wish harm on another individual? Why do they cling to the harsh words of Church leaders to defend their attacks? Why don’t they hear recommendations to treat all with kindness and love that have also been spoken?

Why? Because towards homosexuals, there are no words of kindness and love. How do you think all of this makes a person with same-sex orientation feel? This fact alone will ultimately lead to discouragement, disappointment, and despair. Fortunately, there are many among the general membership whose lives have been touched by knowing a homosexual. These people, whether they are parents, siblings, or friends, have been able to get past the misinformation and prejudice surrounding homosexuality and have shown genuine love and understanding. These people have no authorities to quote. They rely on the expressions of their own hearts because therein lies the truth about their experiences. And when these family members or friends are ridiculed for their acceptance, they, too, ultimately feel discouragement, disappointment, and despair.

The Church views social and political acceptance of homosexuals as being harmful and as doing the homosexuals themselves a disservice. The Church focuses on counteracting attempts to legitimize same-sex relationships. It warns about the dangers of such things. Yet how can it do this? "It is a moral issue," the Church says. Yet how can it say this? How can the Church possibly help remove the mote in society’s eye when it has a beam in its own? It is, in fact, so blinded by this beam that the greater moral damage is being incurred by the Church. Perhaps if it could remove its own prejudices and misunderstandings, then it would be in a better position to assist those who are struggling with this issue.

If being homosexual is a "cross" that some of us must bear, as the Church sometimes suggests, then why doesn’t the Church show charity in helping to bear that burden or lighten the load? Didn’t Alma at the Waters of Mormon teach us to bear one another’s burdens, to mourn with those who mourn, to comfort those who stand in need of comfort? What the Church currently offers homosexuals is far from comfort. In fact, if anything, the Church makes the burden to be borne heavier. It creates a condition of mourning, of discomfort.

It "is not good for man to be alone." Yet the Church insists that homosexuals live their lives alone. That is a burden. Other single people in the Church are told that one day their romantic feelings will be realized. Homosexuals are told that their feelings will never be realized. That is a burden. Homosexuals are instructed to disassociate with each other (often the only people who can understand us). That is a burden. Homosexuals are told that we are perverse, evil, and unworthy of God’s love. That is a burden. Homosexuals are not welcomed in the Church. We are maligned and made fun of. We are not allowed to hold callings. The missionaries are asked not to teach us. That is a burden. Homosexuals are discouraged from trusting the spiritual promptings that we were meant to accept our homosexuality. That is a burden. Homosexuals are surrounded by a society that rejoices in relationships and marriage. And yet we are denied opportunities to develop companionships. That is a burden. We watch as our family members and friends are encouraged to date, to relate their feelings of love. We celebrate this. Homosexuals are despised for discussing our feelings. We are treated as if our feelings are shameful. No one wants to even talk about it. That is a burden. Homosexuals are characterized by a sexual act, nothing more. That is a burden. Homosexuals are forced to believe that we are broken, in need of repair. That is a burden. Homosexuals are smugly told that the very God who created us rejects us and has turned from us. That is a burden.

Is it any wonder why so many homosexuals give up and die? Why suicide is so inviting? Why spirituality is shunned? Why addiction to drugs, alcohol, or even sex is a means of escape? Why membership in the Church is so painful? Why bitterness is encountered so often? Is it any wonder?

I realize that I have written more than necessary to share my thoughts and I appreciate your patience through such a lengthy letter. I hope you will forgive my redundancies, but I felt a need to emphasize and reemphasize so many observations. I also hope you will forgive my sharpness at times. My intention was not to lash out but rather to express my concerns. My emotions on this subject are deep and sometimes raw. Even though I have experienced much personal healing on the matter, I encounter individuals every week who are currently struggling in tremendous pain. And in a sense, I relive the experience again. I will not forget the pain. Hopefully, I will forgive.

Until we can stop judging and start loving each other and forgiving each other, we all stand to suffer. No one wins. Everyone loses. The homosexual man or woman loses. The parent or sibling of the homosexual loses. The Church loses. But I don’t believe that this will happen. God’s work will not be frustrated. I know that truth, justice, love, and mercy will eventually be realized when all of us choose to understand rather than ignore, when we choose to bear one another’s burdens rather than belittle, when we choose charity rather than condemnation. This is my prayer and my testimony in the name of Jesus Christ.

Sincerely,
Jeff M. Durning


THE AFTERMATH

A week to the day from the time I mailed the letter, I received a call from Blair Jamison, my stake president. I have known President Jamison, an educator, since I was a teenager. My father has been a bishop in the area, and President Jamison knew our whole family. In fact, President Jamison had been working with me for the past several years on homosexuality. I had been celibate since that relationship in my twenties. I had been living with my parents for the previous four years while I saved to buy a new home and had been attending church sporadically in their ward. I visited other wards and also used Sundays as a time to talk with other gay individuals who were struggling with these issues and who needed a friend.

At the time, I helped run a support group for gays and lesbian Mormons, read a lot of books, and talked with a lot of people. Perhaps the most important fact—at least it is the most important fact for me—is that few, if any, people choose to be homosexual, and they can’t change it. To tell them that their only hope is in changing is very damaging. I’ve shared this information in a candid but nonconfrontive way with many individuals but never really discussed it in depth with any sense of real understanding with President Jamison until after I wrote the letter to Elder Faust.

President Jamison has had little experience in dealing with homosexual issues. His understanding of homosexuality was based on very little information and mostly stereotypes. For eight or ten years, my relationship with President Jamison had been fairly open. He had never threatened me with disciplinary action other than probation.

I received a call from the stake clerk who was responsible for making appointments for the stake president. He wanted to arrange a time for me to meet with President Jamison and left a message for me to call him. I had an appointment that night, so I arranged to meet with President Jamison Wednesday evening, 1 March.

During the meeting President Jamison said, "I’ve just received a telephone call from Elder Faust." I instantly knew what the call was about. He continued, "We had a brief conversation. Elder Faust mentioned that there was a homosexual living in my stake who was ‘content’ with his homosexuality."

He paused. I was upset and did not want to react emotionally, but I couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was that the crime I was charged with was that of being contented. He said, "It was decided that a court action would have to be taken and that excommunication was likely." I can’t remember what I said—the beginnings of a protest. He said casually, "You knew when you wrote this letter that excommunication was a possibility."

"Yes," I answered, "but I tried not to put anything in the letter that would trigger a defensive reaction.

President Jamison didn’t ask if I was keeping the commandments of the Church. My personal history didn’t come into the conversation. I got the feeling that he didn’t want to take action but felt that he was carrying out the Church’s instructions. He asked, "Would you be willing to go to a group like Evergreen?"

I was surprised because Evergreen had never come up in our conversations before. I’m not even sure whether he knew about it during our conversations. He said, "I’ve been working with a fellow who is now going to Evergreen meetings. He claims he’s transitioning out of homosexuality."

I said I wouldn’t go. It wasn’t clear to me at this point whether he had a copy of the letter I’d written to Elder Faust. But since my letter made it pretty clear that I felt Evergreen, whatever good it might be doing, was also providing a cover for Mormon homosexuals to continue their homosexual activities while being used as role models of "change," I had no confidence that this kind of experience would be helpful in the slightest degree. I explained, "Evergreen contains a lot of people whom I think have been very damaged. I’ve read their literature. You have to agree to change, and my integrity says that I can’t say that I will change."

The conversation was more or less over.

I asked about the court. He seemed uncomfortable and said, "You can come to the court if you want to, but you don’t have to." I think he was trying to spare my feelings.

I asked, "Would I be able to explain my thoughts, my feelings, my history?"

"I don’t think so," he answered. "I don’t think I’d want you to do that unless it would counter the charges being made."

"And the charges are that I’m contented being a homosexual?" I clarified. He nodded. "Well, I wouldn’t be countering them," I continued "because I am content. But I want to have a chance to explain my background, feelings, and history."

"How about this instead, Jeff?" offered President Jamison. "I’d be willing to talk to you. You can explain anything you want to say to the high council. Let’s do it right now. I’m not averse to being educated. I feel that there’s something I haven’t understood."

He agreed to meet with me on Sunday, 5 March, and seemed quite cheerful. I got the feeling that I would almost certainly be excommunicated, that the decision had already been made but that they would be gracious if I wanted to show up for the formalities. I could talk and they’d listen, but they weren’t really interested in how I felt.

He again asked if I was interested in trying to change. Again, I said I wasn’t. In fact, I said, I was pursuing a path of celibacy now, but I hoped to have a partner in the future. He didn’t say anything.

I went home and thought about my options. It seemed I had two. First, I could talk with him on Sunday, lay it all out for him as I had for Elder Faust—and then stay away from the trial, and let them take me out of the picture without resisting. Or, second, I could go to the court, bring some people to support my position, explain my story there, and ask them to listen to the perspectives of the witnesses I’d brought.

I’m not a confrontational person. I don’t want to create conflict, but I do want to make it better for others who are in the same situation. I wrote the letter because I was tired of being silent. I had a lot of respect for President Jamison and didn’t want to drag him into a confrontational situation, but I felt a real obligation to tell my story. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. I’d caught some kind of flu and was also trying to move into my new home. (The move had nothing to do with jurisdiction. Although I was moving into the boundaries of another ward, I was still in the same stake.)

I felt that my family should know, so I told my parents. I couldn’t tell what my father felt. I know he loves me but he also feels a tremendous loyalty to the Church. My mother was very crushed. She felt that Elder Faust and President Jamison were being very unfair. My sister and her husband were irate. My sister later told me that she hadn’t been able to sleep at all the night I told them. I was particularly touched by my brother-in-law’s reaction, because his father is gay and had divorced his mother. My brother-in-law had always had quite bitter feelings, not only about his father but about all homosexuals, until he got to know me. He told me that he would be willing to attend the court with me.

The word of the impending court action spread quickly among the gay community in Utah Valley. When a support group of Family Fellowship met Thursday night, most of those present were enraged. Several of the couples offered to attend the court with me, defend me as a witness, and present views about why this action would be inappropriate. Gary Watts, who has studied the causes and treatments of homosexuality for six years, said he would be willing to present an overview of those topics and also, as a former high councilor, point out how such an action would violate the conditions spelled out in the General Handbook of Instructions. I was very touched by their concern.

On Saturday morning, a friend gave me a copy of the section of the General Handbook of Instructions that talks about disciplinary councils. I read it closely and realized that the only grounds for action that it specifies are homosexual actions.7 I guess I was a little less resigned to going quietly and meekly at that point. I was feeling more keenly how unfair the action was, from Elder Faust’s reaction to President Jamison’s obvious feeling that his only option was to excommunicate me.

On Sunday, I went to a two-hour meeting with President Jamison and explained what I had learned from my reading, from my working with others, and from my own experiences. It was basically everything I believed in. I shared my testimony that I’ve arrived at this position through a spiritual experience.

I could tell that it took President Jamison aback when I explained that there were no grounds for a court because I was celibate. He admitted that he assumed that I was sexually active because I not only acknowledged having homosexual feelings but also that I was accepting of those feelings. It was a novel idea to him that gay people weren’t just out being promiscuous, that gays could be celibate, and that we really wanted monogamous, loving relationships. It stunned him. From what he said, I gathered that his experience has been confined to working with perhaps two homosexuals in the past and that both were involved in relationships about which they felt very guilty and ashamed. He had many small-town stereotypes about gay people, and I was able to explain to him a whole new side that he’d never contemplated before.

At the end of the two hours, President Jamison said, "Well, thank you for coming in. I’ll get back to you." I left the meeting not knowing quite what he meant but feeling good that he had listened and that some of the information had been new to him. Did I dare believe that he might think about this new information? Pray about it? Change his mind because of it?

A few days later, I received a letter from Elder Faust. It began with an apology that he had not responded more promptly. He had been traveling. He continued:

... It certainly was not my intent [in my devotional address] to cause pain and anguish to anyone. On the contrary, I desired to give some measure of hope to those who find themselves in same-sex orientation. I am sure you are well acquainted with the doctrine of sexual purity which obtains in the Church, both for homosexual[s] as well as those who claim the same-sex orientation. It simply is that the Church does not seek to discipline anyone for thoughts, but only when those thoughts are acted out outside the relationship of the life-giving union of man and wife in marriage. That standard is for all people, whether male or female, of any race, old or young. President Hunter has invited everyone warmly and genuinely to be part of the Church, and that includes all people including those who may be dealing with issues of homosexuality.


I think it is imperative that we hold out to all mankind that it is within their power to change. I think the Lord is trying to establish a plan of happiness for his children, and invite them to participate in it. Perhaps people cannot change through faith alone. It may require, in addition to faith, a sincere desire and some counseling. We have had enough experience in the Church to know that some people can and do change their sexual orientation. One has to ask, if they can why can’t everyone? What I have written may be no comfort to you, but I offer it very genuinely and sincerely.


I pray our Heavenly Father’s choicest blessings to be with you and yours.


Sincerely,
James E. Faust

Elder Faust’s statement that I may not have been comforted by his comments was correct. I felt that I was being brushed off. His letter was in no way a response to me personally nor to the issues that I had raised in my letter, hoping to continue the discussion in a respectful way. The letter, in essence, though phrased kindly, basically said, "I’m acknowledging that I received your letter. But I don’t want to deal with you or the issues you raise. I want no continuing dialogue with you. I’ve made up my mind about gay people." This sense was confirmed when I learned that others who had expressed similar concerns about his address had received the identical letter.

On Monday evening, 6 March, Ellison Blake, my former bishop from right after my mission and a member of President Jamison’s high council, came over, and I went through the whole issue again with him. My mother had asked him to come to the house, believing he would be sympathetic and helpful. His deceased brother-in-law had been gay so he had a little background and was consequently more sympathetic than President Jamison. He asked personal questions and tried hard to understand how I felt.

At one point he asked, "So you’re saying that this threat of being excommunicated is almost like someone accusing you of committing a robbery because you’ve thought about robbery?"

"Not quite," I answered, "because robbery is immoral. I don’t think homosexuality is immoral. Loving someone is not immoral."

He urged, "You really need to show up at that court and explain this to people." He also volunteered to talk to President Jamison and try to dissuade him from holding the court. He agreed that court action must be based on sexual expression, and then, quite awkwardly, admitted, "I just assumed you were being sexual because you admit to being homosexual." Like President Jamison, he seemed surprised that homosexuals could define themselves outside of a behavior, that they could be celibate. Once he made the connection that I had homosexual feelings but was not involved sexually, he seemed to get the point that the grounds for a court were simply missing.

On Tuesday night, 7 March, I returned a call from President Jamison. My parents had called him to talk over the situation, upset because they felt that Elder Faust wanted me excommunicated. My father had been quite confrontive, demanding, "What’s going on with Elder Faust wanting to kick my son out of the Church?" President Jamison had reassured them that Elder Faust had not instructed President Jamison to excommunicate me—which was the form that the rumor had taken by now. During the course of our conversation, President Jamison cleared his throat and said abruptly, "I need to clear up a misunderstanding. Elder Faust did not ask me to do anything with your case. He just said, ‘You’ve got a member who’s content with his homosexuality."’ President Jamison assured me that it was not Church policy for a General Authority to make such decisions. I knew this, of course, but President Jamison’s behavior during the first interview had certainly given me a different impression.

He also admitted that "a lot of people" had been talking to him. I knew that a number of my friends had wanted to write him letters urging him not to hold a court. I could tell that President Jamison was uneasy and uncomfortable. At this point, I felt deeply at peace within myself. On one level, it truly didn’t matter what happened; but I was curious to know if President Jamison had gone ahead and set a court date. He hadn’t.

The conversation ended with his saying, "Well, I’m reconsidering the court. I need a few days to think about it." I felt a stirring of hope for the first time. My meeting with him two days earlier on Sunday morning had concluded with the understanding that a court would be held. That’s obviously what Bishop Blake thought when he came over on Monday. And now, the stake president was "reconsidering." I waited; and while I waited, I prayed.

I’m still waiting, but I think my prayers were answered. From that point on, the record is silent. I don’t know if President Jamison had any additional contacts with Elder Faust. I don’t know if he made an affirmative decision or if he postponed making a decision and let the lengthening days of silence become his decision. He was released as stake president during the next year. He had not contacted me by the time of his release. His successor has never contacted me. I do not attend church in my ward but have monthly contact with the home teachers and have been visited once by the bishop as my membership records were transferred to the new ward. My membership to this day is still intact.

I continue to work with local support groups and, on occasion, make presentations to college classes, educating them about homosexuality. This involvement is still very important to me because I enjoy the service. I also find great hope in seeing the trend toward greater acceptance for homosexuals and in knowing that homosexuals are finding more accurate information and are more comfortable with themselves than ever before.

As I look back on this experience when the threat of excommunication was the focal point in my life, I remember a feeling that came over me and has stayed with me since. I often use an analogy to describe it. Before I wrote that letter to Elder Faust, I was like a child learning to walk. I needed support, someone to hold me up, to teach me how to walk, to be there to keep me from falling when I lost my balance. That is how I viewed the Church. It was my support. I depended on it to keep me balanced and standing. It was a great comfort at the time. But like a child learning to walk, the time came when I had to let go of the parent’s hand and learn to walk on my own. The letter to Elder Faust and the threat of excommunication—of being cut off or shaken loose from that steadying hand—allowed me to finally take a stand on my own and learn to walk on my own. Of course, I knew there would be times when I would lose my balance and fall flat on my face, but I finally felt ready to take full responsibility for my life—to let go of that external source of support and encouragement (which can also be a source of discouragement and punishment), and try to walk as an adult.

I have ambiguous feelings about my Church membership. I’d spent my life being very dedicated to the Church, and Elder Faust’s talk forced me to face the fact that gay people just don’t have a place in it now. I get the feeling from my bishop, home teachers, and ward members that I would be welcomed—but only as a "recovering homosexual." Since I won’t pretend to be heterosexual, nor will I hide who I am, nor agree to feel ashamed, it has seemed better to me to spend time formerly devoted to Church callings working with other homosexuals who need some insight and understanding. I do believe that understanding will continue to evolve in the Church. When I feel accepted by the Church as a homosexual, then I will return to full activity, if that day ever comes. If it doesn’t, I’m okay with that, too. I feel a great sense of peace and calm. Letting go has been hard, but I know that, ill fall, I have the capability within myself to stand up again, to walk forward, and even to run on my spiritual legs that I’ve exercised through faith.


Endnotes:
1"Jeff M. Durning" is a pseudonym, as are the names of the President Blair Jamison and Bishop Ellison Blake. Punctuation and capitalization have been standardized in the quoted documents.


2Notes transcribed from audio-tape of live broadcast by KBYU-FM, 15 November 1994, in my possession; Elder James E. Faust, "Trying to Serve the Lord without Offending the Devil," BYU Devotional, Marriott Center, photocopy of typescript in my possession.


3Peggy Fletcher Stack, "LDS Apostle Sees Devil in Toleration of ‘Sins,'" Salt Lake Tribune, 19 November 1994, C-2; Jeff Vice, "Political Correctness Isn’t Correct, LDS Official Says," Deseret News, 16-17 Nov. 1994, B-3.


41n his oral presentation, Elder Faust said, "No scientific evidence demonstrates absolutely, absolutely, that this is so." It was an intensifying technique which, ironically, had the effect of communicating, "There still remains a small shred of doubt about this theory."


5Faust, ‘Trying to Serve the Lord Without Offending the Devil," 3; ‘Serving the Lord and Resisting the Devil,’ Ensign, September 1995, 5.


6Understanding and Helping Those Who Have Homosexual Problems: Suggestions for Ecclesiastical Leaders (Salt Lake City: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1992), 4.


7The General Handbook of Instructions mentions homosexuality once in the section on disciplinary councils: "homosexual relations" are listed among the "serious transgression[s]" for which a disciplinary council is mandatory if the transgressor was holding a "prominent Church position" at the time (March 1989, 10-4).

The Mormon Alliance - From the One

The Mormon Alliance website is no longer active, but it is still available on archive.org. The Case Reports of the Mormon Alliance have been an interesting read for me, particularly the volume about gay mormons. I read this a long time ago, and have referenced it before, but due to the website going down, I feel it important to repost the entry by Tony Collette in its entirety. If I'm violating any copyright laws, please let me know. Otherwise, I think this is pertinant, particularly in light of Elder Boyd K Packer's most recent conference talk, and gives us a lot of insight, perhaps, into his mindset.  The original is located here: http://web.archive.org/web/20060106104253/mormonalliance.org/casereports/volume3/part2/v3p2c09.htm


FROM THE ONE

Tony Collette

TONY COLLETTE, a former physical therapist and database marketer, creates motivational tools for individuals and corporations. He welcomes discussions of the ideas in this article at P.O. Box 60288, Oklahoma City, OK 73146. Tony prepared this article for publication in 1995-96. In September of 1997, he resigned from the Church. Punctuation, capitalization, and grammar in documents quoted in this essay have been standardized.

So, what’s it like being a gay Mormon? Well, that depends.

The gay Mormon experience is quite different for each of us who are members of the Church and happen to discover that we’re attracted to folks of the same sex. Some of us choose celibacy, some stay single, some marry, some live in same-sex relationships lasting years or decades. What’s it like being gay and Mormon? Well, here’s one life story, sort of a documentary history in a way—a spiritual journey and life history told through stories, letters, and speeches.

When I was a little kid, my family lived in Paterson, New Jersey, about twenty miles outside of New York City. It was loud, dirty, noisy, and crowded, complete with slums, drug dealers, and violent crime. I hated it. So I was thrilled, at age thirteen, when we moved to Edmond, Oklahoma, a suburban town where I could go barefoot and where cows mooed just three houses down. There wasn’t even one minority student in the entire school system. This was definitely a new world.

One day a woman from the local Baptist Church stopped by and asked if I’d like to catch the Sunday School bus which ran right in front of our new suburban home. Well, why not? Dad came from a Methodist background but was solidly agnostic in those days. Mom, an Italian, was a nonpracticing Catholic. Neither one objected. For the next few months, I attended First Baptist Church in downtown Edmond. My spiritual journey had begun.

I’ll always he grateful for this friendly introduction to Christianity, but I soon started attending other churches as well, anxious to learn more. The singing at the Church of Christ was fantastic, but it soon came down to a contest between the Catholic Church and the Mormon Church for my allegiance. I took the authority issue with deadly seriousness. The Catholics claimed that Heavenly Father gave Jesus authority, who passed it along to the apostles, who passed it down to the popes, who sort of kept it in cold storage right up to the present. The Mormons asserted that Heavenly Father gave Jesus authority, who passed it along to the apostles, who were killed, ending their authority. But since God loved us today as much as he loved the folks back then, he felt the need to restore the church, and so his authority was brought back to the earth in our own day. I continued to study the standard works and asked endless questions of the missionaries. For the first time in my relatively short life, religion began to make complete sense. Although still nursing some fears and doubts, I resolved to pray for greater understanding. That’s when a peaceful, calm feeling settled over me, reassuring me that if I would simply proceed with baptism, everything would work out just fine.

Quickly thereafter I was baptized by the missionary who had been involved in teaching me from the beginning. Our tiny branch met in an old funeral home. The podium was situated where the bodies used to lie in state, and we teenagers held Sunday School class in the old embalming room, suitably grossed out by the floor which sloped to a grated drain.

About this time, I started noticing that I was different from most of the guys I was hanging out with at school and at church. They talked about girls a lot, were obsessed with thoughts of female anatomy, and completely preoccupied with making out as often as possible. Being sexual with a girl seemed to be the number one priority. For them. I was too busy noticing other guys.

I never chose to be attracted to men. It just happened. In fact, I chose not to be attracted to them, but it didn’t make any difference. Pretty soon the message sunk in. I was different than my friends. I liked men. I knew this wasn’t in the script for a Mormon boy. I told my branch president. Although concerned for my welfare, he didn’t seem particularly disturbed. We set up a weekly schedule to get together and talk. He simply counseled me not to be sexual with anyone because that would make the situation worse. He told me I was going through a phase, that I’d grow out of it. I was greatly relieved. Hey, he was the branch president. I believed him a hundred percent. I followed his advice. Since I figured the gay facet of my personality would eventually go away and because I couldn’t imagine anyone being hurt by the situation, there didn’t seem to be a great need to do anything.

I became more and more involved in the Church as years passed, serving in a variety of different positions and callings. Eventually I accepted a mission call to Finland. Two years later, after an honorable release, reality reared its disturbing and ugly head on the long plane ride home. After years of carefully not thinking about being gay, I was confronted with the simple truth that the "phase" the branch president had spoken of so reassuringly six years earlier showed no signs of being over. I was more attracted to men than ever.

Although I had shifted the "gay thing" to a back burner six years earlier, it hadn’t cooled, as I thought it would. Instead, it simmered. Like my very Italian mother’s tomato sauce—an all-day affair that bubbles on the stove, the flavors intensifying, the texture and consistency changing with each passing hour—the gay issue had become strong and compelling. I climbed off the airplane in the United States knowing that, in the matrix of my Mormon orientation to the world, gayness was a core issue in my life.

Ignoring my sexual orientation hadn’t made it go away, although it gave me in retrospect a safe and relatively peaceful adolescence, despite periodic disappointments, and allowed my commitment to the Church to become strong and mature. Now I tried to figure out what being a gay Mormon meant. I ventured out a little bit, visiting gay clubs with my best friend, who was and is probably the straightest man on the planet. Did he earn the Friend of the Year award, or what? He hated going, but he loved me, so he went. Eventually I went without him, met some gay friends, had my first sexual experience, and moved to Dallas, the biggest city in our region. (I discuss the events in my life in greater detail in my statement to the 1989 high council below.) At this time, I had a physical therapy practice, providing treatment to accident patients, folks with terminal diseases, and athletes.

It’s important to know that, up to this point, the Church was everything to me. I was passionately religious, and none of that zeal was pretense. It had survived and even thrived in a mission as challenging and demanding as Finland. I had experienced intense, intimate association with the Spirit. God had come down and wrapped his arms around me many times. Mormonism wasn’t just a philosophy or religious theory to me. God himself had laid his hand upon me in testimony of its truthfulness.

So the incredible pain and difficulty I experienced when trying to reconcile my spirituality—a very real, concrete thing—and my sexuality—also a very real, very present, insistent force—made life miserable, almost unbearable on occasion. I simply had to figure things out. I experimented by staying away from the Church for a while, putting some distance between myself and it, just to see if that would help. Yet, anxious to know other gay Mormons, I also hooked up with Affirmation, a social and support group.

As I got to know more gay Mormons, I kept hearing horror stories about how they or their friends had been terribly mistreated or unnecessarily offended by rough handling from bishops, stake presidents, or General Authorities. Such negative experiences seemed really stupid and completely avoidable. There was absolutely nothing in my personal experience that came even remotely close to what these friends were talking about. I’d always been treated fairly and with a tremendous amount of respect. But there was no way around the fact that a lot of other people were having a very different experience. For them, being a gay Mormon was proving to be far more difficult than it was for me.

Eventually I decided that for my own sanity and the good of others, there had to be a way to do things differently. There simply had to be a way to integrate sexuality and spirituality. I couldn’t imagine ripping the Mormon part of me away, but I couldn’t pretend to be straight when I was definitely gay. What would happen if I went to church, participated in the meetings and discussions in class, and let a few people know that I not only sympathized with gay people but actually was a gay convert, a gay returned missionary? This may not sound very brave or original, but to me in the mid-1980s, it was revolutionary. And a little on the kamikaze side.

I began attending a singles ward in Dallas in the spring of 1986. Things went pretty well for a while. At one point, at least half our singles ward of about 150 members knew that I was gay. Except for an occasional half-joking grumble from a woman frustrated with the dating situation, no one seemed to be particularly bothered. Everyone was kind. Most were friendly. Some were even affectionate. When one woman asked the elders’ quorum president for "the scoop," as she put it, on me, he calmly and without the least bit of negative sentiment explained as best he could. When my home teachers seemed ready, we spoke about the gay issue for a couple of hours. They were mellow and caring. They didn’t seem to be especially bent out of shape over it. They in turn spoke with Bishop Madaris who called me into his office. We had a pleasant time together discussing the issues during a frank and pointed hour. Bishop Madaris knew me well. I was very active and involved in the ward; and it’s always been my experience that the more a leader knows me personally, the more understanding he is and the more temperate his response about my gayness.

At the time, I was sure Bishop Madaris understood clearly that I had been sexually active, if only infrequently, in the past. I wasn’t involved with anyone at the time of our discussion, but it was never my intent to gloss over the past or to leave a false impression of my intentions. Yet he may have received a mixed message and heard only part of it, for I’m absolutely not the type of person to engage in casual sex. I don’t say this as a boast about any kind of inner virtue. It’s just that being intimate is such a tremendously emotional experience that I found it impossible to separate the emotional from the physical. It simply hurt my feelings way too much to be intimate with someone without the sweetness that accompanies sex when two people truly care for each other deeply. To experience sexual "intimacy" over and over with people you don’t know, and then say good-bye, maybe never to see them again—well, that’s simply not what I wanted in my life. But I didn’t see myself making a commitment to a life of celibacy either.

So it came as quite a surprise when Bishop Madaris recommended me as a stake missionary. He said shortly thereafter that he thought I’d be a good missionary and that the gay thing wasn’t a big concern to him. President Gibbons, in his interview, told me that God had called me to the position of stake missionary. "How do you feel about this call from the Lord?" he asked.

"Well, I think it’s great," I told him. "I’m really looking forward to it." Then I added, "I want you to know that I’m gay but it won’t interfere with this calling at all."

He was distressed. Visibly upset. We talked a little longer, and he suggested getting back in touch in a day or two. When he did, he said, "Under the circumstances, the calling cannot be extended." He requested that we meet. In that second meeting, he said he was really offended by my breaking the commandments.

I told him I was really offended by his using the phrase "God has called you." "Look," I said, "If God called me to be a stake missionary, he already knows I’m gay. If he already knew, there’s no need to rescind the call. If you’re simply asking me to accept an assignment in the stake, that’s perfectly fine, but you should say what you mean."

This rather pointed exchange was the beginning of a relationship that started in confrontation and distrust but which developed into reconciliation and respect.

President Gibbons and I met every three to four weeks for several months. He wanted me to repent, renounce my "beliefs," sacrifice my hope of finding a reconciliation between my gayness and my Mormonness, and "go along" with what the Brethren have to say on the issue of homosexuality. I told him I couldn’t repent of being who I am, that my beliefs were a personal revelation from God, and that I respected the central LDS leadership but didn’t feel they understood. Two people could not possibly have held more divergent points of view. But we kept meeting. I’m convinced that his inner sense of responsibility to his calling and his deep concern for me as a person were the primary motivations for his persistence. For months he resisted the idea of beginning any formal action against me. He hoped that by using gentle persuasion, my situation would change and I’d "come around" to seeing things his way. But the likelihood of changing a gay man into a straight one is just about the same as changing an apple into an orange. It was a physical impossibility. President Gibbons’s patience eventually wore thin.

On 15 January 1989, we found ourselves in a high council court. Ours was a new stake center, and the high council room looked like a minimalistically decorated, austere corporate board room. The high councilors were mostly men in their fifties and sixties. I hoped that the few younger men would be a little more sympathetic than the older members. Knowing that they’d be a captive audience and thinking that this would probably be a one-time opportunity, I prepared a written statement. After President Gibbons briefed the high council, I read my statement. It took about twenty minutes.

Richardson Stake High Council, 15 January 1989

I am grateful for the opportunity to meet with you all today. During the past few weeks, I have met with Bishop Madaris and President Gibbons numerous times. I have felt of their great concern and care for me; and as we begin, I’d like to express my gratitude for their love and support. This process has not been comfortable or easy, but I believe it is the right thing. For this reason I have willingly agreed to be here with you all today to discuss some of the most personal and private aspects of my life.

I am not here to teach you or to instruct—that isn’t my place. But we are here to discuss the issue of homosexuality; and because you may or may not be very familiar with what it’s like to be sexually attracted to members of the same sex, the responsibility is on me to openly and honestly share what I know with you. I will speak directly and forthrightly, but please do not mistake this boldness for pride—it is not.

I believe this gathering is meant to help me and to help you and to help people in my position whom you will meet in the future. Because this is so important, none of us nor the Lord nor his church would be well-served by shyness or hesitancy. But this openness is not pride. This meeting isn’t, however, simply an opportunity to share information. This is a high council court and the stakes are high. My continued membership and activity in the Church are on the line. And because I have a very strong testimony of the gospel and the Church, this has great significance. The decisions which are reached here today will have great impact on my life and the lives of people like me. For this reason I would ask, with great respect for the position you all hold, to please lay aside your preconceived notions and prejudices about what a homosexual person is. It is only natural that you would have them, but I am very afraid that these deep-seated ideas might get in the way. I have prayed to the Lord that this might not be the case. I would not ask you to accept or agree. But I do ask you to be willing to understand.

I became a Christian at thirteen and accepted the restored gospel and was baptized into the Church at fourteen. At fifteen, I realized that I should discuss my sexual attraction for men with my branch president. We met numerous times, and he offered very helpful counsel. The difficulties became more obvious as time passed; but because of the strong testimony of the gospel which was within me, I continued being very active in the Church. I was advised that this "phase" would eventually pass but that any sexual contact would make the situation worse. Accordingly I was celibate from this time until I was twenty-three years old. I was told that, if I obeyed the commandments, God would take care of the rest.

While a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, I assumed that, if I was a good priesthood holder, Heavenly Father would change me. So I threw myself into activity and service and must admit that my life became much fuller and rewarding. With youthful optimism and great anticipation, I awaited the day when I would become a priest. The ordination came and went—but my attraction to men stayed. This was a crushing disappointment. With the naivete and blind faith of a sixteen-year-old, I put complete faith in the power of the Lord to bring about a transformation in my sexual orientation. But it hadn’t happened. I couldn’t understand why this was happening to me.

The hurt feelings subsided as I eagerly looked forward to the conferring of the Melchizedek Priesthood. Such a monumental happening—receiving the priesthood of God—surely as I obeyed the commandments and served in the Church as called, the Lord would intervene. There was no doubt in my mind that this would be the great turning point in my life upon which the entire future of my life depended.


I vividly remember the day I was sustained in stake conference for ordination as an elder. When the stake president called my name I proudly stood. I was excited, happy, and humbled. My home teacher conferred the Melchizedek Priesthood and ordained me an elder. It was thrilling. To have the priesthood of God, to stand and administer in the footsteps of Jesus—what greater thrill could there be?

As the next few days passed, I slowly realized that my sexuality had not been affected. Is it possible to describe the fear, anguish, anxiety, hurt, depression, anger, resentment, self-hate, and sense of abandonment that I felt? Desperate thoughts went through my mind. For what good reason was this happening to me? What horrible, unthinkable atrocity had I committed in the preexistence to deserve this? Why did God hate me so much? Why bring me to an understanding of the concept of an eternal mate and then cruelly deprive me? Why had this happened?

Time passed. It seemed to me that going on a mission was the right thing to do. Surely doing the Lord’s work for two years would prove to the Lord my intentions. Surely this would be an acceptable offering. The thought of entering the temple and receiving my endowments became the next focal point. The temple was a sacred, special place where God communed with his servants. Miracles had occurred in temples since the early days of the Restoration. It seemed clear to me that, in the temple, my prayers would be answered. I believed that through participation and acceptance of the sacred ordinances of the temple, the Lord would change me.

I entered the temple with many great expectations. The experience was lovely and uplifting. It provided one of the greatest spiritual moments of my life. It was wonderful. But as I walked Out of the gates of Temple Square in Salt Lake City, it became painfully obvious to me that I was still attracted to men. I was surprised and disappointed, but I immediately began to think that what the Lord was requiring of me was two years of full-time service as a missionary. Surely as I served the Lord as an ambassador of the gospel, he would change me.

I was assigned to Finland. In some ways it was a typical mission, but in others it was unusual. I taught conversational English in international business colleges, functioned as a fill-in branch president, and was specifically reassigned to work with a suicidal member to keep her alive. Because of an illness which one of my companions suffered, I was alone for eleven days in a two-missionary town. Knowing in advance that my companion would be hospitalized for quite some time, the mission president trusted me enough to be alone for eleven days. I took this as a great compliment and did nothing during that time to damage his trust. During my mission, I was not involved in any sexual conduct even though one companion was gay and I had other opportunities available to me.

I was not an ordinary missionary, but I was effective in many ways. I was on the Lord’s errand, doing the Lord’s work. Sometimes I felt really awkward or stupid, but that was okay because the scriptures say it’s okay to be a fool for Christ.

The close quarters of mission life provided for some difficult, tense times. The only way to convey an understanding for the situation is for you to imagine a red-blooded twenty-year-old elder with a twenty-year-old sister missionary as a companion. Can you imagine what it would be like for them to dress, undress, and sleep in the same room? That’s what it was like for me. Tense moments aside, the experience of being on a mission was wonderful. I developed a greater appreciation for the love Heavenly Father has for all his children. The idea of the one-ness and the shared experiences of all of us here on earth made me appreciate the people more. I developed an intense love for the people in Finland and found amusement, more than irritation, in the differences that growing up in our separate cultures had provided. In working with the suicidal sister, Heavenly Father required me to develop an almost endless patience for her. I would submit myself to listening and counseling with her when it seemed no one else would because this was the way the Lord had provided for me to love someone else more than I loved myself. Really, that’s what the entire missionary experience was about.

As the last few days of my mission approached, I again realized that my sexual attraction for men had not changed. A familiar sadness settled over me. In a quiet moment, without anger or bitterness, I reflected on the many events that had led me to Finland. Where along the way had I failed the Lord? At what point in my life had I so disappointed him that he felt it appropriate to consign me to be single, alone, without a wife for the rest of my life? After much introspection, I came to the conclusion that I hadn’t done anything so wrong—at least, not wrong enough to deserve this.

After returning home, I began dating a lovely girl from Holland who was great fun to be with. Although she was very desirable, I was never sexually attracted to her. But I believed that, after we were sealed in the temple, the situation would resolve itself. There was simply no other alternative. I asked her to marry me; but it was called off shortly thereafter.1

At this point I was twenty-three years old. I had been sexually attracted to men since before I understood what sexual attraction was. I had never felt any attraction for women. I was a member of a Church that worships the concept of marriage—and I was unmarryable.

I was crushed after my ordination as a priest.

I was disappointed after my ordination as an elder.

I was confused after the endowment ceremony had not changed me.

I was saddened as my mission drew to a close.

I was completely disheartened as I realized that marriage, even a temple marriage, would not change who I was.

How my spirit ached. Sadness overwhelmed me. During this period, tears were no strangers to me.

It was then that I truly accepted the fact that I was a homosexual. Although I had chosen to be attracted to women innumerable times during the previous eight years, it never happened. I never chose to be sexually attracted to men. That’s probably the most important thing I’ll say here today. Like most gay people, in or out of the Church, I never chose to be attracted to men. Why would I? What sane, rational person—given a chance—would so choose to complicate his life? Would you make such a decision? Well, I wouldn’t either, and I didn’t.

Decision or no, the situation remained. I was twenty-three years old and I was gay. "Gay"—that was such a foreign word. Although I had heard the word since childhood, it was only then that I began to think that "that word" was a part of my identity.

It was like suddenly discovering that your ancestry was Russian instead of English.

In an attempt to understand what being gay meant, I went with friends, some of them straight, some gay, to nightclubs and discos that had a predominantly gay following. They seemed pretty much like all the other discos I had been to. The idea of dancing and being with friends was appealing but the "fast track" life-style of drinking, drug use, and casual sex didn’t appeal to me at all. Within a year I had my first overt sexual experience. Because of a job change, I moved to Dallas.

During this time I became increasingly involved in social activity and a seeking for information that would help me understand what being gay meant. Part of what the subculture offered was worthwhile and part of it was not. I rejected the idea of sex as a hobby or sport and from this time onward tried to avoid any sexual involvement that was not preceded by real affection and caring for the person involved.

While still trying to put all the pieces together, I left the Church for six months to try to determine just how important it was to me. At one point my bishop and I met and he referred me to Stake President Brough. At his home, President Brough and I had a very involved and open discussion during which I related to him my experiences and feelings about what had happened to me. His reaction was to tell me that a Church court would be held and some type of action would be taken. He took my home and work numbers and I fully expected him to contact me with information about a court immediately. The phone call never came. For reasons which were never explained to me, President Brough didn’t pursue any action.

Another job transfer to Garland placed me in the Richardson Stake and the Eleventh Ward. During the time away from the Church, I came to realize that the Church was more than just a habit, it was a vitally important part of my life. I resolved to get back into Church activity, but on a limited basis. In the Eleventh Ward I accepted callings which did not require a worthiness interview. I spoke in meetings and occasionally sang in sacrament meeting. I was not a home teacher nor did I perform any ordinances or teach classes because it didn’t seem appropriate to represent the Church in such an official way. While this compromise arrangement might have offended some people, it seemed very agreeable and workable to me.

About three months ago, Bishop Madaris recommended me to the stake presidency to be a stake missionary. During the interview with President Gibbons, I expressed a willingness to serve the Lord as called but was very open and honest with him about my personal situation. He felt, under the circumstances, that the calling would not be appropriate and that is how the process of this church court began.

There has been some confusion about whether Bishop Madaris and I ever discussed the particulars about my sexual activity. Just so you will know, I have never tried to hide or conceal any facet of my struggle with homosexuality from the Church leaders who have had jurisdiction over me. Indeed, just before moving into this stake, I completely discussed all of these matters with the appropriate Church authority.

While being open and up front with Church leaders, I have generally tried to be as low profile as possible with most Church members. It has never seemed all that important to make such personal things a matter of public knowledge. I have, however, shared some of this with close personal friends in the ward. But it has never been my intention to make a big deal out of my sexual orientation.

I have lived every day of my life trying to come to an understanding of my sexual orientation. In my youth that journey of understanding took the form of blind faith and naive optimism. In early adulthood, these qualities were replaced with a simple determination to do what I felt was right by attending the temple and serving a mission. Eventually, I came to the realization that sexual attraction for men was simply a part of who I am and not something which I chose. My hunger for understanding revolved more around seeking information about secular and medical discoveries and about the meaning and intent of the scriptures which mention homosexuality. These methods were and continue to be very useful, but they pale in comparison to the method which I have employed the most—and that is seeking the Lord’s will in meditation and prayer. Through the past fourteen years I have unceasingly prayed for guidance and insight. Discovering the Lord’s will in all of these matters has been an almost all-consuming passion. It has not ceased to be so.

During the course of this search, the Lord has made plain to me certain things which I will share with you. I do not believe that these ideas are meant for anyone else. But there is no doubt that they are meant for me and that they have been revealed to me as answers to prayer from the Lord. The first is that Heavenly Father loves me as intensely and with as much passion as he loves any of the rest of his children. He knows me and cares for me beyond description. He is aware and apprised of the situation and has great compassion for me.

The second is that I have done nothing to deserve the situation in which I find myself—that is, nothing I did grieved the Lord enough to cause me to be sexually attracted to men. My sexual orientation is not a punishment and it is not any less a divine part of my identity than your sexual orientation is a divine part of your identity.

The third is that Heavenly Father does not expect me to be celibate for the rest of my life. It was not his intention to create me as I am and abandon me to loneliness in this life or the next. It is his will that I learn to responsibly and appropriately use the sexual orientation that is within me to further the same goals which Heavenly Father has placed for all of his children. And those include the creation of a loving home, the ability to love someone else more than yourself, and the charity not to use sexuality as a tool of force or a means of coercion, but as a method of expressing love, affection, and all of what is good in a person.

I believe my sexuality is just as beautiful, divine, and lovely as that which can be found in any one of you here today. In my youth I hated it; but through prayer and meditation I have come to accept my sexual orientation as a challenge and an opportunity—and in some ways a special blessing. For this understanding I thank a loving and caring Heavenly Father who has not abandoned me, but whose hand and influence are present in my life.

Now you will consider whether it is appropriate for me to remain a member of the Church in full standing. When I came to this stake and the Eleventh Ward, the most appropriate thing seemed to be the arrangement which I discussed earlier—specifically that I accepted callings which did not require a worthiness interview, spoke and occasionally sang in meetings, was not a home teacher, and did not teach any classes or represent the Church in any way. I do not perform any priesthood functions. The limits of this arrangement have served my needs and the needs of the members of the ward well. I hope it is possible to continue this in some official form.

As you consider the issues involved, I ask that you remember these things. First, I did not choose to be gay. Second, I have always been open and honest with the bishops and stake presidents whose responsibility it has been to counsel me. Third before coming to this stake, I met with and fully discussed the situation with President Brough who took no action. Fourth, the main reason we are meeting today is because, during an interview with President Gibbons, I was honest and willing to share my feelings with him.

The final thing I’d like you to keep in mind is that, although the object of this court is to consider the appropriateness of my conduct specifically, there are thousands, even hundreds of thousands of people in the Church just like me—men and women who, through no action or choice of their own, find themselves in the very difficult position of being sexually attracted to members of the same sex.

As you consider me and my actions, keep them in your minds and in your hearts. Just as surely as we are here in this room, they are there. Many years ago as a youth, the difficulty of the situation became obvious to me. I believe in a religion whose ultimate expression is temple marriage—and I am not marryable. As difficult as this is, I did not give up on the Church. Rather I struggled along through good times and bad, determined to discover the Lord’s will and do it. The Lord has not finished with me. As long as I am willing to struggle, He is willing to support me. As I did not give up on the Church fourteen years ago, please do not give up on me now.


Then the high councilors asked some questions. Quite surprisingly, it was the younger men who got the most distressed and engaged in badgering and even rudeness. President Gibbons had to call them down on at least two occasions. Their pointed questions evoked equally pointed answers. When it was over, it seemed they had every reason in the world to excommunicate me. Even though I wanted to keep my membership and even though I had tried to be as persuasive as possible, they now had all the ammunition they needed. I braced for the worst.

The worst never came. The council, really President Gibbons, decided to disfellowship me for one year. We met every month to discuss what it means to be a gay Mormon. He agreed to read everything I brought him if I’d agree to read everything he gave me. These monthly sessions were really taxing at first, but quickly became enjoyable and rejuvenating. We still disagreed on some important ideas, but he was willing to listen, and that made all the difference.

Once he suggested that God’s special calling for me as a homosexual man was to be celibate for the rest of my life. I asked him, "What sort of reaction to that idea would you get if you brought any other member of my ward into your office and told him: Despite the fact that we’ve taught you from Primary on that the ultimate expression of your religion is to couple with another person, forget all that. God’s got something different in mind for you. It’s not just a question of circumstance that you remain single, but a matter of personal choice. God wants you to choose to be single, not just accept the fact that you happened to remain single."

He mentally chewed on that for a while and admitted he’d never thought of it that way before.

I concluded: "You want me to sacrifice my hope, in advance. That’s completely different than accepting a situation that has already occurred." This was the big impasse.

After a year, Church policy required the stake president to reconvene the council to either reinstate or excommunicate. Those were the only two options. We were both pretty nervous about it. I told him it would be a total, complete mistake to excommunicate me or anyone else in a similar position. Who would it help? Would the Church be better oft? Would I or any other gay individual? How would excommunicating a gay member prepare the world for the return of Christ? Exactly what good would it do?

President Gibbons shifted in his chair under my impassioned plea. He shifted again. His face got red, and tears came to his eyes. He didn’t talk for a while; but when he did speak, his voice was broken and full of emotion. I don’t remember what he said, but I’ll always remember the way he said it. This man loved me. He felt for me. It left a deep impression.

Within a few weeks, he became aware of a policy change that removed the former restrictions and allowed him far more latitude in cases of disfellowshipment. What a relief! We kept on meeting. I ran across an interview with Stan Roberts, the former bishop of the San Francisco Singles Ward, about some really progressive approaches to the gay issue. His belief was that all of God’s children should be included and encouraged; in that spirit, he held a weekly gathering of gay members in his own home. Just to add a little lightness to the otherwise serious nature of the gatherings, they named themselves "the Farside Group." Despite the silliness, the group’s purpose was quite serious: to provide a safe, nurturing situation so that all who attended could share their experiences and try to create a greater understanding among the gay and straight members of the ward. The underlying motive was to find a way to make life better for everyone involved.2

I started thinking about how these ideas migh be duplicated in the Dallas area. I became really excited by the possibilities as President Gibbons and I continued to meet. At one point the hope issue came up again, only this time President Gibbons said something about no one really being able to completely guarantee their future actions. I didn’t read into this any sense of a loophole or way around anything. But it felt comforting and reassuring, and it stayed with me.

After some extended soul-searching, prayer, and a lot of thought, I reaffirmed my basic belief in the divinity of the Church. At the same time, I came to peaceful terms with the fact that the Church is composed of ordinary humans, loving people who are imperfect and therefore make mistakes—sometimes small, sometimes big. Obviously these loving, caring people had simply made a massive mistake in their assumptions about homosexuality. Could I forgive them for making such a big mistake?

Eventually the answer was yes. The next realization was that the promises of God apply to me just as much as anyone else—and they re absolute. He’ll come through on every promise and every agreement we’ve made. With those two thoughts in place and with a desire to try to replicate in Dallas some of the progressive things that had been happening in the San Francisco Singles Ward, I met with President Gibbons and asked him if we could start discussing reinstatement.

One of their big concerns was what I might say in public about the gay issue. We discussed a variety of possibilities which would restrict—to one degree or another—what and how I could discuss gay issues in private or in public with church members. Through President Gibbons, I offered his counselors my assurances that I wasn’t interested in embarrassing anyone, but that I felt it only appropriate to be given the same freedom and latitude in speech that any other member of our ward enjoyed. This seemed far more compatible with gospel principles, and we all tentatively agreed that this was the right choice. President Gibbons discussed this option with his counselors, then brought it up with me again. Obviously the counselors and, to some extent, President Gibbons, were really nervous about what I might say in public, or possibly from the stand. Understanding the tension they felt, I tried to reassure them again, but their doubts were persistent. They were truly worried.

He called the high council together, and we had a very pleasant meeting. President Gibbons briefed them again and then asked me to bear my testimony and answer some questions. The council had gotten a lot younger in a year and a half. This worried me. Although the questions were blunt and the answers blunter, the texture of the meeting stayed friendly and nonthreatening. Since Bishop Madaris had been released a few months before, the current bishop of my singles ward, Bishop Folger, accompanied me to the high council meeting. He spoke boldly and forcefully on my behalf, at one point telling the high councilors that the only issue they should be concerned with was whether or not I could answer the questions in a temple recommend interview appropriately and that everything else was completely irrelevant. "We don’t understand this stuff, so let’s not pretend we do," he said.

After a short adjournment, President Gibbons announced the decision of the presidency to reinstate me into full fellowship. After making a quick round, shaking everyone’s hand, I left that room with Bishop Folger, thinking, "This whole thing has been way too weird." I was really happy, excited, and very relieved that this long and difficult confrontation with the institutional Church had ended.

At the time I wrote in my journal, "Now that the tension with the Church is over, I intend to get on with the more important aspects of the gospel. Like learning to love your neighbor, understanding what God wants and how to do it, and loving someone else more than you love yourself. And I look forward to having some fun—simple, clean Mormon fun—with the wild and crazy members of my ward."

And we did have fun. Life in Dallas in the singles ward was really enjoyable. There was a great group of young people there, probably more cosmopolitan and accepting than in many other places. I really enjoyed being involved, in full fellowship, functioning as a home teacher and doing all the things an active Latter-day Saint does.

At one point during this period, Bishop Folger called me into his office to ask a favor. The missionaries had tracted out, taught, and baptized a young gay man into our ward. The bishop very much wanted him to feel comfortable and "at home" with the rest of the singles, but wasn’t sure how to proceed. Speaking of the bishopric and elders quorum presidency, he said, "You know more about this gay stuff than we do. Would you mind talking with him and making sure that his needs are met? We really want his experience in the ward to be a good one. And if there’s something we can do to make him more comfortable, please let me know."

I was more than happy to help out, eager to help this guy make a transition into membership in the Church. And his experience in the ward was a pleasant one, lasting a number of months until he joined the military. Of course, why wouldn’t I—or anyone, for that matter—respond favorably to such a respectful and dignity-enhancing encounter with their local leadership? I was enjoying activity in the ward, my experience and contribution were valued. Things were going according to plan perfectly.

And then I fell in love.

Brian and I met at an Affirmation conference in Arizona in September of 1990. I was there to do a one-hour presentation on dealing with local LDS leadership. He was there helping his mother, Wanda, recover from the trauma of another son’s suicide a little earlier. He was sweet, attentive, and cute as a bug. I was hooked. Fortunately, the feelings were mutual. We corresponded, telephoned incessantly, visited each other, and within a few months decided to live together as partners. Who was it that said, "Life is what happens to you when you’re expecting something else"?

Brian lived in Idaho Falls, and I moved there to be with him. Although he had stopped attending church on a regular basis a few years before, we decided to visit some of the local wards in hopes of finding a place where we felt at home. After six or seven weeks, his old frustrations returned, and he decided not to attend any more. I continued attending a singles ward for a few more months, at one point even giving a major talk in sacrament meeting when a high councilor couldn’t attend. But when the bishop decided to interview me about my disfellowshipment and reinstatement in the hallway with various other folks walking by, I decided it was best not to return.

Although I really tried to make the adjustment to small-town living, it was just too difficult. In the winter of 1992, we moved to Salt Lake City, where I continued with the video production business I had started in Idaho Falls. Brian eventually set up a branch office of his financial services business in Salt Lake. Our offices were located in a historic residence just two blocks away from the Church Administration Building. We attended church occasionally but never felt comfortable getting too close to anyone there, simply because we knew it might cause a great deal of trouble and discomfort if someone in a leadership position felt duty-bound to initiate some kind of action against us. This situation obviously caused a great deal of tension for us and other gay couples who wanted to try to maintain some kind of contact with the church they were raised in, while at the same time knowing that, if they got too close, they’d be punished and possibly even have their membership officially revoked.

When I was growing up in Oklahoma, General Authorities had seemed pretty irrelevant in my life in the Church. Salt Lake City seemed very far away. When I was a kid, even seeing your stake president could be quite a novelty. Still, I had generally positive feelings for the General Authorities after listening to them speak in general conference sessions and reading their articles in Church magazines. Now that I was a young man, it seemed very strange to be so close to all those revered men who had just been names before.

Life in Salt Lake was fabulous. There is no shortage of cultural and interesting things to do in the city, and we quickly acquired a circle of close friends. We also met a lot of gay Mormons in Salt Lake. But these folks were different than any gay Mormons I had known before. The amount of bitterness and anger these folks felt for the Church was astonishing. The situation distressed me a lot. I felt I needed to do something but felt completely frustrated trying to decide what. I settled on the idea of writing a letter to the General Authorities, sharing some good experiences that had happened to me in the Church, but letting them know that I was meeting lots of people who had been having really terrible experiences.

Now I understood that General Authorities are targets for all kinds of bizarre phone calls and correspondence. I realized that much of this contact would be unpleasant and accusatory. So I wanted to make it very clear that chewing them out by letter wasn’t the point. I just wanted to get together and try to make life better for everyone in the Church.

I wrote the following letter with these concerns in mind. I also shared with them some of the negative feelings I was hearing about them, as contrasted with my own generally positive feelings. I then offered to meet with them and talk about the gay Mormon experience if they felt it would be somehow worthwhile. I stressed that I sustained them in their callings and wanted to do whatever I could to help. I sent the following letter to all 102 General Authorities, each one individualized, of course, with his name.

10 April 1993

Dear Elder ________

May 3rd marks my eighteenth year in the Church. As a gay Mormon, I have witnessed and experienced first hand during those eighteen years what it’s like to be homosexual in a Church which is sometimes less than accepting of its gay members.

My experiences have run the range from incredible, Spirit-filled, loving encounters with members, bishops, and stake presidents to a laughable run-in with a departing mission president. May I share with you some of the more permanent and meaningful memories?

I particularly remember a young medical student who was my home teacher, in tears because of his frustration—he didn’t understand, he wanted to; he couldn’t help, but his greatest wish was that he somehow could. And a loving stake president who, frustrated and distressed, cried with me during hours of conversation and counseling.

I’ll also never forget an interview with a bishop who calmly and quietly helped me understand the various options available to me as a gay Mormon. His insight, humor, compassion, and serenity had a calming, hope-producing, and nurturing effect on my soul.

While probably 85 percent of my personal experiences with the Church have been favorable, many of my gay friends and acquaintances have not fared as well. They have seemingly endless "horror stories" to tell concerning encounters with members and officials, including General Authorities. Many of them have come to the conclusion that you General Authorities are hate-full, irresponsible autocrats who choose to remain in ignorance on the issue of homosexuality and abuse your power when formulating policies concerning the gay members of the Church.

I do not believe this. I perceive you and your fellow Brethren to be caring, compassionate, sacrificing servants of God, doing the best you can with the gifts and talents with which Heavenly Father has blessed you. If you are not completely informed as to what it means to be a gay Mormon, isn’t that the fault of us gay Mormons? Have we made ourselves available to you so that you might receive information first-hand from the individuals who know the most about the gay Mormon experience?

Without giving serious thought to what a sustaining vote really means, I’ve raised my hand to sustain you in your current calling. There must be many facets to the act of sustaining Church leadership, and without doubt one of them means providing you with whatever information I have which might allow you to more completely fulfill your calling. So in a spirit of friendship, I offer that which I have to give—the life experience of a gay Mormon. At your convenience I would be happy to meet with you to discuss the issues facing gay Latter-day Saints and the Church.

The purpose for meeting is not to debate, or to presumptively call you to repentance, or to be called to repentance myself for being gay. The point is to meet together and share what we have for the good of the kingdom and the furthering of the will of the Lord here on earth. My only wish is that somehow life in the Church can be more rewarding and spiritually fulfilling for those members of the Church who realize they are homosexual. Surely the Lord will bless us all for seeking out and making life better for The One.

Tony Collette


In all honesty, I didn’t expect there to be much of any response from this letter. More than anything, it was a good-faith attempt to do something, anything, which might help the situation. Those in-home meetings Bishop Roberts held in San Francisco were still on my mind; and although I didn’t suggest duplicating his efforts in this letter, I had hoped that we might explore some possibilities and options together. But realistically, I fully expected that most, if not all, of these letters would be filed away or simply trashed.

As it turned out, this letter made a number of the General Authorities uncomfortable. Four weeks later, on 10 May 1993, I received the following letter from Harold C. Brown, Commissioner of LDS Social Services:

A number of the General Authorities received your letter and have asked me to respond to your letter and address the questions you have raised. We appreciate the concerns that you expressed for members of the Church who struggle with homosexual difficulties. As you might be aware, a booklet has been prepared that local leaders may use to assist those who seek help for such problems. A copy of the booklet is enclosed. It may answer some of the questions you have about the Church’s position. This document is designed to assist local leaders in helping those who wish to conform their lives to the Lord’s teachings.

We will be happy to meet with you to address the concerns or questions you have. I suggest you call Brother Dean Byrd, one of my colleagues, who can discuss the issues you have. Brother Byrd can be reached at (801) 240-3634.

Thanks again for sharing your concerns. We are willing to assist you in any way we can.

Sincerely
Harold C. Brown, Commissioner
Latter-day Saint Social Services

This letter was a surprise but also a disappointment. I was very familiar with the programs and activities of LDS Social Services in the gay area, and especially familiar with Dean Byrd, the Church’s "point man" on the gay issue. Meeting with him didn’t seem as if it would accomplish a whole lot, so I quickly decided not to pursue it. But a good friend who had worked in LDS Social Services for years persuaded me to reconsider, suggesting that Harold Brown and Dean Byrd really needed to be exposed to gay Mormons who weren’t overly distressed with their sexuality. So I made an appointment with Dean Byrd, the man who advises the General Authorities about homosexuality in the Church.

Just a few days later, I received the first of just two answers from the 102 General Authorities I had written. It was from J. Ballard Washburn, then serving in the area presidency for Africa. He wrote:

12 May 1993

Dear Brother Collette:

It was nice to receive your letter. I am grateful for your attitude of kindness and understanding. You said you would be happy to meet with me and discuss the issues facing gay Latter-day Saints in the Church. My present assignment is in Africa; therefore, it makes it rather impractical for us to get together.

The Lord’s work is going very well here in Africa. During the past two-and-a half years I have been able to travel to twenty-seven different countries in Africa. The Church is now in twenty-four of those countries and is growing in each of those countries. It is a great privilege and blessing to be involved in the Lord’s work and to devote full time in trying to help people understand the message of the Savior so that their lives can be full and rewarding and happy.

I am grateful that most of your experiences with Church leaders have been favorable. I am especially grateful that you could have a spirit of love and concern for other people. Thank you again for your letter. Perhaps, sometime in the future, we will have an opportunity to meet.

With love,
J. Ballard Washburn
Africa Area Presidency

What a nice letter! I’ve never met this man, but it’s obvious that he’s a caring, sensitive person, quick to look for the good in others.

The day came for the appointment with Dean Byrd. The hour-long conversation was animated and interesting. I asked a lot of questions, and Dean responded with the Church’s position and his own history in dealing with gay people and homosexuality. One of the issues we discussed was whether the Church officially sanctioned and supported the activities of an "ex-gay" Mormon group called Evergreen. At the time, my opinion of Evergreen was that its leadership seemed composed of genuinely caring and loving people who were simply misleading gay Mormons and their families about homosexuality. They provided activities such as basketball, baseball, and oil-changing lessons for gay men, assuming that participating in such "manly" activities would make it easier for a gay fellow to become straight. For a number of months, Evergreen purchased and distributed, in considerable quantity, an "ex-gay" book produced by an anti-Mormon publisher. The book, written by conservative Christians, was naturally filled with fundamentalist dogma which Mormonism had turned its back on during the days of Joseph Smith. But since the book held out the hope to gay men of becoming straight through participating in activities similar to those sponsored by Evergreen, the organization’s leaders overlooked its extreme doctrinal incompatibility.

On a more positive note, the group also provided local support groups and a national, yearly conference. The only benefits readily apparent to me were that Evergreen, in some cases, paired gay men with a loving, supportive straight "mentor" and that it also provided a safe environment for closeted gay Mormons to express openly and freely what they were experiencing in their lives. A person can never have too many friends or mentors, especially of the supportive, caring kind. And being offered the chance to express your greatest fears and concerns is always a healthy experience. The main issue was what happened after this mentoring and self-disclosure.

As one Salt Lake City psychologist expressed it, "We get very disheartened trying to pick up the pieces after Evergreen has left a gay person and his family more depressed and despondent than ever." She felt that Evergreen promised naive, simple solutions to a complex, multi-faceted situation. When these simple answers didn’t work and the gay man left the basketball/baseball/oil-changing program in frustration and guilt, it became her job to comfort and counsel the family involved. By the time she and I spoke, she was completely exasperated by the frequency with which her new patients were former Evergreen participants.

So it’s understandable that the Church’s financial involvement with Evergreen would come up in my conversation with Dean Byrd. But, as I had expected, our meeting was not particularly useful. When the hour was up, Dean said he’d report back to the General Authorities about our meeting. But nothing was likely to change, and I felt as if the time had been wasted.

A few days passed, and this letter came in the mail:

May 26, 1993

Dear Brother Collette:

I was pleased to meet with you recently. I appreciated the information that you provided and the concerns that you shared. As I indicated to you, the Church’s position on homosexuality is clearly stated in the booklet, Understanding and Helping Those Who Have Homosexual Problems. The resources listed at the end of the publication provide additional helps for those who need further clarification. Latter-day Saint Social Services with many agencies throughout the United States and other countries is available to provide assistance to those who desire to make changes in their lives and to conform to the Lord’s teachings. A letter which was sent to priesthood leaders with the booklet indicat[es] that individuals who need assistance may either contact their bishop or call Latter-day Saint Social Services directly.

Perhaps I should reiterate to you . . . that Latter-day Saint Social Services does not endorse Evergreen International or other organizations. Rather we encourage the use of community organizations who are supportive of the Church’s teachings. My attendance and/or participation in professional/other meetings is a matter of personal choice and neither represents the Church or Latter-day Saint Social Services.

Again I enjoyed our meeting and hope that sufficient clarifications were provided for you.

Sincerely,
A. Dean Byrd, Ph.D.

Then on 1 June 1993, I received a letter from Elder Packer. Although the letter made it clear that Elder Packer was interested in "helping" me, not in discussing homosexuality with me or learning about the experiences of gay Mormons, it was warm and cordial.

Dear Brother Collette:

I’m sorry for the long delay in responding to your letter. I appreciate the spirit in which you write.

We follow the policy of responding to requests from members for appointments or interviews only through the bishop of their ward or the president of their stake. I think you can see why this must be so because of the size of the membership of the Church and the responsibilities that rest upon those of us who have worldwide obligations. Would you talk to the bishop of your ward and ask him to call me?

I would like to help you. I know I can help you best through your bishop. After counseling with him, we will determine whether or not an interview would be possible.

Again, I appreciate the spirit of your letter and wish you well. I’ll be waiting for a call from your bishop.

Sincerely yours,
Boyd K. Packer

This request seemed like a reasonable response. Even though I hadn’t attended the local ward which held my membership, I promptly made arrangements to meet for the first time with its bishop, Boyd Christensen. It was a marvelous encounter. We spoke for an hour and a half. He was educated and articulate but also willing to admit that he didn’t know a lot about the gay issue and wanted to know more. He took notes. He never asked a personal question. He strongly urged me to be a part of the ward. This meeting reaffirmed my faith in the basic goodness of people in leadership positions in the Church and made me feel really good. Maybe things were looking up after all. The bishop said he’d report to Elder Packer personally about our meeting and that I should expect some kind of response. But nothing happened.

Shortly thereafter a friend showed me a photocopy of a typescript address to the All-Church Coordinating Council that Elder Packer had given on 18 May 1993, two weeks before he sent his personal letter to me. This was a major speech, presented at Church headquarters to a variety of management and ecclesiastical personnel, including many members of the Seventy and their assistants. Although the meeting was not public, the Associated Press acquired a copy of Elder Packer’s speech, and the report went nationwide. I was stunned as I read one part in particular:

There are three areas where members of the Church, influenced by social and political unrest, are being caught up and led away. I chose these three because they have made major invasions into the membership of the Church. ...

The dangers I speak of come from the gay-lesbian movement, the feminist movement (both of which are relatively new), and the ever-present challenge from the so-called scholars or intellectuals. Our local leaders must deal with all three of them with ever-increasing frequency. In each case, the members who are hurting have the conviction that the Church somehow is doing something wrong to members or that the Church is not doing enough for them. To illustrate, I will quote briefly from letters on each of those subjects. They are chosen from among many letters which have arrived in the last few weeks. These have arrived in just the last few days.

The Gay/Lesbian Challenge

The first is from a young man, possibly a gay rights activist:

"May 3rd marks my eighteenth year in the Church. As a gay Mormon, I have witnessed and experienced first hand during those eighteen years what it’s like to be a homosexual in a Church which is sometimes less than accepting of its gay members.

"My experiences have run the range from incredible, Spirit-filled and loving encounters with members, bishops, and stake presidents to a laughable run-in with a departing mission president. May I share with you some of the more permanent and meaningful memories?" After a page or two of those, he said:

"So in a spirit of friendship I offer that which I have to give—the life experience of a gay Mormon. At your convenience I would be happy to meet with you to discuss the issues facing gay Latter-day Saints and the Church.

"The purpose for meeting is not to debate, or to presumptively call you to repentance, or to be called to repentance myself for being gay. The point is to meet together and share what we have for the good of the kingdom and the furthering of the will of the Lord here on earth."

Elder Packer gave similar quotations from someone he considered to be a feminist and from a man who considered himself to be an understanding mediator between the church and its intellectuals. Then Brother Packer warned Church leaders:

When members are hurting, it is so easy to convince ourselves that we are justified, even duty bound, to use the influence of our appointment or our calling to somehow represent them. We then become their advocates—sympathize with their complaints against the Church, and perhaps even soften the commandments to comfort them.

Unwittingly we may turn about and face the wrong way. Then the channels of revelation are reversed. ...

If we are not very careful, we will think we are giving comfort to those few who are justified and actually we will be giving license to the many who are not.

The process of correlation is designed to keep us from making mistakes in manuals, in publications, in films, in videos, in those specialized programs which are justified.

Those fifteen words from Alma state: "God gave unto them commandments, after having made known to them the plan of redemption."

There are many things that cannot be understood nor taught nor explained, unless it is in terms of the plan of redemption. The three areas that I mentioned are among them. Unless they understand the basic plan—the premortal existence, the purposes of life, the fall, the atonement, the resurrection—unless they understand that, the unmarried, the abused, the handicapped, the abandoned, the addicted, the disappointed, those with gender disorientation, or the intellectuals will find no enduring comfort. They can’t think life is fair unless they know the plan of redemption.

That young man with gender disorientation needs to know that gender was not assigned at mortal birth, that we were sons and daughters of God in the premortal state.

In his conclusion, Elder Packer again stated: "We face invasions of the intensity and seriousness that we have not faced before."3

Reading large sections of my personal correspondence in a major speech given to a crowd of strangers, without my permission, was quite a shock. Reading it in the newspapers’ AP story was also very disturbing. And the phrase, "a gay rights activist" isn’t exactly a term of endearment along the Wasatch Front. Wasn’t my office was just two blocks away from Brother Packer’s? Not only was my phone number listed in the telephone directory, it was right on the letter. Even for a busy person like Brother Packer, just how difficult would it have been for him or one of his staff to contact me? I had simply offered to share my life’s experiences. It felt totally bizarre to have someone stand up and demonize me as an enemy of the Church. I was angry and bitterly disappointed.

I immediately met with my stake president, B. Lloyd Poelman, whom I had not met before. He welcomed me warmly, listened, sympathized, and was very supportive. One of his first questions was whether I planned to sue Elder Packer for using the correspondence publicly without permission. He was then a named partner in the Church’s law firm, Kirton, McConkie, & Poelman, so the question was not as strange as it might seem. I quickly explained that suing wasn’t what I had in mind, that I was simply upset and was with him that night for some helpful counsel.

He explained his perspective on the General Authorities gained through years of working with them daily: "In my extensive experience with the General Authorities, I’ve come to believe that they are one of the finest groups of people anywhere in the world. And that the combined effect of all of them together tends to compensate for the extremism of any one of them individually." He also said, "I’m not suggesting that you write a letter, but if you do, I promise to deliver it personally." So I wrote a letter. The first attempt was angry and a bit mean-spirited. The second attempt was much calmer and, I hoped, more explanatory:

15 July 1993

Dear Elder Packer:

With deep sadness and profound disappointment I recently read your comments delivered to the All-Church Coordinating Council Meeting on May 18th. I was shocked, surprised, and angered that personal correspondence between myself and the General Authorities was made public and scornfully described as one of "the dangers" currently facing the Church.

I sat down and wrote you an angry letter, letting you know how off-base I thought your conclusions and judgments were. But meetings with my bishop, Boyd Christensen, and stake president, Lloyd Poelman, softened my heart and convinced me that responding angrily was not the right thing to do.

So I’m going to try very carefully and calmly to explain my thoughts and feelings. The intention here is not to criticize but to share information in a productive way. Also, to let you get to know me personally and to better understand my motivations and the motives of the people I’m close to.

First of all, the reason I wrote was because, being new to the Salt Lake area, I saw and heard disappointment, disillusionment, anger, and even hatred toward the Church brought about by various issues concerning homosexuality, on a scale I had never experienced before. This scared me and concerned me. There was no way for me to know if the General Authorities were aware of the situation or not, so I decided to write them. I wrote all 102 at the same time because computers make that easy to do and because I was sure that very few would have the time to respond. And not knowing any of you personally, it was impossible to single any one of you out.

This letter wasn’t part of any organized "campaign" or group effort. It was just me, trying to do what I could to make things better. Very few people saw this letter before it was sent and even fewer have seen it since.4 I now realize that sending the letter to all 102 of you was a mistake, because various people, including Dean Byrd of Latter-day Saint Social Services, were alarmed and have since made negative comments. I apologize for not making myself and my motives clearer.

Now, may I share with you some of the thoughts that came to mind when reading your address to the Coordinating Council. Although my Letter was an honest, good-faith effort to share with you what I’ve experienced as a gay Latter-day Saint, it was disheartening to see that during your address you characterized me as "caught up and led away." Although my motivations for writing were to make life better and more enjoyable for all members of the Church, I was shocked to read that I am part of a "major invasion." The only conclusion I could come to was that you consider me to be an enemy to the Church, because only enemies invade.

At another point in your address, you say, "That young man with gender disorientation needs to know that gender was not assigned at mortal birth, that we were sons and daughters of God in the premortal state." Being unsure what the term "gender disorientation" means, I called a psychologist and asked. She told me the term refers not to homosexuality but to individuals who feel that they are either a man trapped in a woman s body or a woman trapped in a man’s body. I do not suffer from gender disorientation. I’ve never been unhappy about my gender, never wanted to be a woman, never felt like I was anything but 100 percent male. I’m just gay, Brother Packer.

I was especially surprised by the difference between your private response to me and your public response to the Coordinating Council. In your letter dated 1 June 1993, you say, "I appreciate the spirit in which you write. ... I appreciate the spirit of your letter and wish you well." It’s very hard to understand why you would privately say you appreciate the spirit in which I write when you publicly say that my writing is part of "invasions of the intensity and seriousness that we have not faced before."

May I share with you the experience of a Latter-day Saint family which, although not my own, I am very familiar with. The father was a bishop, the mother the Relief Society president. They were at the time very successful business people in the community and universally respected and well-liked. One of their sons sat them down and explained that he was gay. The resulting shock and upheaval in the family was horrific. Although the couple always valued their family as their greatest accomplishment, they took this young man’s photo down from the wall. They had always maintained an extremely active social life, but now they literally closed the shutters, drew the blinds, and left the house only when absolutely necessary.

The mother spent the first few days crying. The father went to work contacting local and national specialists, intent on finding the right therapist who would simply fix his son. When he was informed that there was little hope of changing his son into a heterosexual, this father began studying the literature on his own. Eventually he resolved that his only recourse was to accept his son the way he was.

The mother’s approach was somewhat different. Although she too read and studied, she relied more upon fasting, prayer, and meditation. Time and again she approached the Lord seeking comfort, inspiration, and guidance. She received all three. Today, their son’s photograph is back up on the wall next to his brothers and sister. He is accepted, loved, and welcomed in their immediate and extended family.

This couple’s experience is a very common one. Their reconciliation with their son’s homosexuality came about not because of social or political unrest, and not because they were being led away by evil forces in society. Their understanding was a gift from their Heavenly Father, a ministration of the Spirit, an answer to fervent, heartfelt prayer.

During your address to the Coordinating Council, you express considerable concern about the rising reluctance of members of the Church to accept—without question—statements from the authorities of the Church about their children and friends which they believe are not correct. The reason for this growing hesitation to accept without question comes from their search for truth, their many discoveries along the way, and the spiritual confirmation and comfort they find in practicing Christianity in its purest form—by loving and accepting all, even their homosexual children.

In your address you mention that many of these people would like the Church to "provide a special program to support them in their problems." This is true. However, it seems from your comments that you believe such a step would be a tremendous mistake. So it should not seem strange, if the Church cannot support these parents with a special ministry, that the parents minister to each other on their own. This is happening in various places in the Church, and these small pockets of caring, loving individuals will continue to expand their service to one another as opportunity and the Lord permit.

Finally, may I say that if you knew me personally, you might not agree with some of my ideas or suggestions; but you would know that I am not caught up nor led away. I am not part of some major invasion, nor am I a danger or an enemy to the Church. I do not suffer from gender disorientation; rather I am simply a gay Mormon, trying to make sense out of life, trying to apply the principles of the plan of redemption which have been taught to me in countless Sunday School and priesthood meeting lessons, and which I have taught as a missionary for the Church. I strongly feel the Lord’s love for me and I see his hand in the world. I wish to be a part of what he is doing here, and I witness to his goodness.

If there is ever anything I can do for you or those with whom you labor, I extend an open invitation to contact me anytime. Thank you for reading this. I hope it somehow helps.

Sincerely,
Tony Collette

There was no response from Brother Packer. He seemed to have made up his mind on the issue of homosexuality and had decided that the simple truths so evident in the lives of gay Mormons were not information he needed. At the time, I felt "sadder but wiser" about the entire experience. How truly unfortunate that one member’s good-faith and very sincere effort to share experiences encountered only bureaucratic runarounds. Although I appreciated how positive my experiences with Bishop Christensen and President Poelman were, my feelings about Elder Packer and the Church as an institution were changed forever.

It confused me that Elder Packer was willing to praise the "spirit" of my letter to me but tell another group something quite different. It hurt and angered me that Elder Packer was willing to call me an "enemy" without even knowing me. How can anyone judge my spiritual condition or intentions without even meeting me? It seems pretty silly to think that someone would pass judgement on another without knowing even the most basic things about them. Would I rather watch basketball or hockey? At Baskin-Robbins, is it pistachio, chocolate chip mint, or rocky road? Would I rather listen to Bon Govi, Beethoven, or Garth Brooks? Does Brother Packer know? Of course not. If he doesn’t know even these simple things about me, how can he possibly judge something as complex as the quality of my relationship with God?

It also frustrated me that Elder Packer was willing to make sweeping statements about a very sensitive issue without taking the time to use the correct terminology or to reply to the actual question. That is, the point of my letter was "How do we make life better in the Church for gay people and their families?" And his response was "People who are confused about their gender need to know that gender was determined in the preexistence. Even if that statement was true, how did it help anyone?

Looking back now on this experience with some years’ hindsight, I feel even better about the course I pursued and more resigned than ever about the futility of fighting the bureaucracy that the Church has become. Shortly after this last encounter with the authorities of the Church, my partner and I separated, and I moved my business back to Oklahoma to be close to my family. I have since continued my spiritual journey by attending a Religious Science5 congregation here in Oklahoma City. I don’t harbor any strongly negative feelings toward the Church now—in fact, there is often a sense of sweet, nostalgic fondness for the people, places, and events in my Mormon past. But I feel very deeply that it is way past time to pursue spirituality in a different, more loving and accepting atmosphere.

And it’s also time to forgive. It’s time to let go of those silly notions and expectations of General Authority perfection that were taught to me as a kid in that "funeral home" chapel so long ago. People are people, and all of us fall short of the goal of perfection. It’s just a question of degree. Sometimes General Authorities do wonderful things, and sometimes they do stupid things. Members are the same. It comes with the territory of being human.

So what do we make of General Authorities who do stupid things, who exercise extremely poor judgement, or teach their own ideas and prejudices as if they were a part of the gospel? How do we reconcile their occasional glaring mistakes with the deeply held belief that they speak for God?

In 1943, Apostle Richard R. Lyman was excommunicated after it was discovered that he had been involved in an extramarital relationship of many years—years during which he rubbed shoulders daily with the other eleven apostles. I’m not mentioning this to judge him but rather to point out the rather obvious fact that even members of the Twelve can sin—sin in ways that aren’t just being careless, rude, or doctrinally wrong. Elder Packer was simply wrong in his judgement of me and, in my opinion, wrong in his views on homosexuality; but this doesn’t mean that—on other issues, with other people, in other settings—he’s not an answer to their prayers and an instrument in the Lord’s hand to meet their needs.

So I deal with this situation by returning to basic gospel principles: each one of us has a personal responsibility to listen to what any Church leader says with an open and receptive heart and mind, but we have an equal responsibility to weigh carefully with the help of the Spirit any doctrinal assertions they make. We should look to them for a good example to follow—they certainly provide one most of the time. But obviously, everything they do should not be automatically emulated by every member of the Church. Each one of us is responsible for our own actions, not the actions or sins of anyone else. Each one of us is personally responsible for working out our relationship with Heavenly Father. And if someone offends us—whether ordinary member or General Authority—it’s our job to find a way to forgive him or her, because if we don’t, the greater sin rests upon us.



Endnotes


1I did not give the high council any details, but the bishop called me in and said that she was in the United States on a temporary work permit. He was sure, from her past behavior with other members of the ward before I returned home, that her motives were not honest, and he advised me to "drop her like a hot potato." I broke off the engagement. To this day, I don’t know whether I would have gone ahead with the marriage if the bishop hadn’t intervened; but I do know that the marriage wouldn’t have worked—if not for the reasons he thought, then because of my gayness—and I’m grateful for his counsel.


2"Pastoring the Farside: Making a Place for Believing Homosexuals: A Conversation with Stan Roberts, former bishop of the San Francisco Single Adult Ward," Sunstone, February 1990, 13-19.


3Elder Boyd K. Packer, "All-Church Coordinating Council Meeting, 18 May 1993," 4-5, 6, 7, 8; photocopy of typescript in my possession.


4Although certainly true at the time this was originally written, it’s obviously no longer the case. I’ve made all of this correspondence public now, years later, because it seems important to put all of these happenings in context.


5Religious Science is a spiritual philosophy which seeks to encourage people to live in abundance and harmony with the natural laws of God. Dr. Ernest Holmes founded a nonprofit school in 1927, naming it The Institute of Religious Science and School of Philosophy. Although Dr. Holmes never intended the Institute’s teachings and programs to become a separate denomination, that is exactly what has developed, with Religion Science congregations now established all over the country.