Coming Out

This is where I told somebody for the first time, out loud, that I was gay:



I don't remember where we were seated precisely, although if memory serves, it was the middle of the back row. What I do remember was that it felt like my darkest, most horrible secret had finally come to light, and I felt the heaviness of the world lifted off of me. I wept and wept and wept because I was glad that somebody finally knew what I had been keeping locked away for so many years.

I was fortunate that the person I told was completely loving and accepting and nonjudgmental (and, it turned out, was gay herself). I know God helped me find her friendship at this very critical juncture in my life partially because she really helped me through a lot in dealing with my sexuality.

At the time I told her, being gay seemed like such a terrible, awful thing to be. I felt like the most perverse, misunderstood, lonely human being on the face of the earth. After telling her, I began to realize I wasn't (although I still had a lot of uphill climbing to do in dealing with my sexuality).

Today I am so happy to be who I am and grateful for where I am in my life. I am a beautiful, wonderful person who has been blessed so abundantly.

It really does get better.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Beautiful!

I thought this post by another blogger out there was especially touching.

My Stake President Is Awesome

I guess I should say "former Stake President" since I'm technically no longer a member of the LDS Church, but I just consider him my Stake President. He just wanted to meet with me to see how I'm doing and to express his love for me. He said that no one can know what it's like to be in someone else's shoes or to trod the road that he or she has trod, but that the most important thing was to make sure our relationship with our Savior and Heavenly Father remained intact and strong. I feel that is the case.

He said he admired my example and said he knows things have occurred in the Church that could easily have made someone in my shoes angry or bitter or combative, but that he's glad I have chosen a different attitude. I said I don't always agree with how church leaders handle specific issues, but that I still believe they come from a place of love and concern and that I still have a great love for the religion in which I was brought up. He said that no matter how I feel about the church or what decisions I make regarding it, he will always love me, and I know he meant it. I feel the same way.

He said one thing that has always stuck with him was that he has always admired the fact that Jonah and I have only been with one another sexually and that we waited until after our commitment ceremony to consummate our relationship. He said that he really admires that. I'm proud of that, too. I don't judge anybody who chooses differently, but it felt right for me, and I'm glad my relationship with Jonah is what it is.

My Stake President asked how I was doing. I told him I was very well and was very happy. I told him I have no regrets about the choices I have made. He was happy I was happy.

He asked me how others have responded to my choices. I said that for the most part people have been very supportive. He said he was glad, but also advised me that if anyone ever does say anything unkind or offensive that I still have the ability to choose how I will react to that; that people are imperfect and sometimes do and say careless things, but what is most important is that my relationship with the Lord remain solid and that I not put their imperfections on him. I said that ultimately I can't control how people to respond to me or how I live my life. I can only live my life the best way I know how, and although I can't control how those around me may react, I can control my own reaction and my attitude towards them.

It was a really good talk. I know this man genuinely cares about me. I remember before I was excommunicated, my Stake President expressed hopes that our relationship wouldn't be negatively affected; that our love and friendship would remain strong. I told him it would. And it has.

I have been very fortunate in my association with local leaders (bishops and stake presidents) during much of the course of my life. I've had some really good men counsel me, and in many cases, they have become more than just leaders to me. They have become and have remained friends. I know some people who haven't been as lucky.

My Stake President is a great man. I love him a lot. I'm grateful we had the opportunity to talk today.

I wrote another post today, too. It follows this one.

I Should Have Gone To Brunch

This morning I had an opportunity to go to brunch with some of my cast mates and crew members of the show I'm currently rehearsing. Instead I decided to go to to church, as I usually do. I made the wrong call.

Church, particularly Sacrament Meeting, was mind-numbingly boring today. In fact, if it is possible to be bored to death, I'd say I was pretty close. I think I actually felt I lost a few minutes of precious life today.

Before you give me some of the standard answers I've heard before (i.e., "Well, what did you do to prepare to receive the Spirit today?", "Church is not designed for entertainment, but for worship," "Not every meeting can be a home run," etc.), let me say that I enjoy going to church the majority of the time, but I do not understand why LDS church meetings have to be so dull and uninspired at times. And I actually think my ward that I attend is one of the better ones, but in my history of attending many LDS wards throughout my life, I have seen a lot of lackluster meetings, and I don't quite understand why it has to be that way.

I have heard some outstanding talks in my day and have participated in some very thought-provoking, spiritual lessons, but more often than not, I find that church meetings can come off as somewhat monotonous and boring. I feel sorry for these teachers who come in with a well-prepared lesson only to be greeted by silence or the occasional "Sunday School answer." (Believe you me, I would comment if I could, but my excommunication precludes that). And why do the majority of LDS congregants insist on celebrating the worship of their Lord by singing hymns as if they were funeral dirges? I stopped attending Priesthood years ago because it was week after week after week of unprepared, uninspired lessons, and I simply decided I had better uses for my time. And why do 80% of high council members seem unable to give a good talk? Is it one of the requisites of being called to that position? (In their defense, I think over the years they have gotten better. When I was younger it seemed more like 95%.) And why are church meetings so often conducted like board meetings rather than worship services?

I think worship service can be so much more dynamic, inspiring, and spiritual than it sometimes is. There have been some great talks in General Conferences before; why can't that same fervent energy and instruction exist on a local level, too?

Shouldn't part of worship be celebrating our Savior and our Heavenly Father and creating an environment where the Spirit can freely flow. At the end of two of the most uninspired, tired talks I have heard in some time, the first counselor got up and said a usual, "We're thankful for our speakers. We have felt the Spirit here today," and I just thought, "Have we felt it as strongly as we could have if the speakers had been more dynamic or if the congregation had been more present and spiritually prepared?" I'm not excusing myself. Perhaps I could have been more spiritually present and in tune myself. Maybe I would have more strongly felt the same Spirit the counselor alluded to if I had been more in tune. But I've come to church many a time ready and willing to learn something; having an open mind, heart, and spirit, only to be greeted by an unprepared teacher or speaker or one who doesn't know how to engage his or her listeners. My point is, it isn't always my fault.

I love those times when a really good speaker or teacher gives an especially great talk or lesson; where the participants in a lesson actually have a thought-provoking, spiritual discussion rather than just spouting canned answers; where a particular musical number is done in such a way that the Spirit reverberates throughout the room; etc. I think it can happen more often if we allow it to.

Sometimes it seems that Mormons are just kind of boring, joyless worshipers. It's as if it's a chore to be at church (and sometimes, admittedly, it is). I've attended other faiths on occasion. Some I have enjoyed greatly; others not so much. The ones I've enjoyed most were the ones where there was joy and electricity in the air or when a particular sermon was given that touched my soul. I wish there was more of that in organized religion. I think we should strive for that more. Shouldn't worshiping and learning be joyful events and cause for celebration? I think they should be; otherwise I'd just like to have a joyful brunch with some good friends.

Different, But Not Less

So last night I saw the HBO movie Temple Grandin, starring Claire Danes. It was something I had been wanting to see for some time. I read Temple Grandin's book, Animals in Translation a couple of years ago, and was very interested in her story; I like Clare Danes; and HBO movies tend to be very well-made. I was not disappointed.

For those of you not familiar with Temple Grandin, she is an autistic woman who grew up in the 50s when autism was especially misunderstood. She overcame many obstacles in life to become a professor (she teaches at Colorado State University), an inventor, an author, and livestock consultant. You can read more about her here.

In any case, as she was growing up and going to school Temple was seen by some as a freak or a nerd because of her differences. She did not behave as "normal" people do and so was often misunderstood. Her values were sometimes ignored or she was humored because people did not understand her reality. According to the movie, a particular teacher mentored her because he realized she had certain gifts and talents that others did not possess. Unlike people who do not have autism, Temple literally thinks in images and can recall any image she has seen. Like many people with autism, she is especially sensitive to sounds and overstimulation. She relates to animals because she believes animals see things the way she does, and there seems to be much proof that this is true because she has designed safer, more humane slaughterhouses based on easing the fears she believes livestock has, and the implements she has invented seem to work very well.

Temple Grandin is somebody who is different from the norm and could be regarded as strange by those who do not understand the reality she lives. But her reality is just that: hers; and once she was able to unlock the door that allowed her to successfully communicate her ideas and allow her to share her knowledge and gifts with the world, people realized how valuable she was to society. She has saved the livestock industry a lot of money and headaches with her inventions and designs. She has helped people understand autism much better. She has contributed greatly to society. I believe much of this was due to the patience and love of those who wanted to understand and know her for who she is.

In the movie a quote was said in reference to Temple that greatly touched me: "Different, but not less." Sometimes we fear those that are different than us. I've written about this before. This fear, I think, comes from our misconceptions of who people really are or from ignorance or from preconceived notions or simply from a lack of understanding. A mentally retarded person might make someone uncomfortable because they do things that do not fit that person's idea of what is "normal" behavior. The homeless guy talking to himself might put one on guard because he or she doesn't understand that person's reality. Someone might be afraid of someone of another race, religion, or sexual orientation because they don't understand or relate or have mistaken notions of that particular race, religion, or orientation. We all do it, I think. We all have people in our midst who make us feel uncomfortable or fearful because we have mistaken notions or incomplete information about who these people are. We have preconceived ideas, some right and some wrong, upon which we base our judgments of other people, and those color our attitudes towards them.

The key, I think, is unlocking the door just as someone like Temple's mentor or Temple's mother or Temple's aunt did for her. But that sometimes takes a lot of time, patience, and love as well as a willingness to understand where another person is coming from. I bawled during this movie as Temple embraced her differences to become the great woman she has become.

It reminded me of another movie that always gets me crying, The Miracle Worker. The moment in the movie that sets me off is toward the very end when Helen Keller finally understands what Annie Sullivan has been trying to teach her; when she finally "breaks the code," so to speak; when she finally understand how the sign for "water" and the water from the well pouring on her hand relate. The realization that comes over her is absolutely heart-breaking (in a good way) to me.



Her door is unlocked because of a very patient and loving person who, instead of shunning or fearing her differences, tries to create successful communication. Helen Keller became an author, lecturer, and political activist. She could just as likely ended up isolated and misunderstood if not for someone believing in her and for seeing who she was and building on it. She was "different, but not less."

I'm not equating homosexuality with autism or blindness and deafness; I'm pointing out that homosexuality is seen by some as an aberration, as something that is not normal or is wrong. I beg to differ. Homosexuality is just "different, but not less." Temple Grandin once said, "If I could snap my fingers and become nonautistic I would not do so. Autism is part of who I am." Helen Keller once said, "I can see, and that is why I can be happy, in what you call the dark, but which to me is golden. I can see a God-made world, not a man-made world." These women embraced who they were because that's who they were. Being gay is a part of who I am. Whereas there was a time when I would have done anything to be rid of it, I embrace and love it because it a huge part of me.

I recently saw Katy Perry's video for her song "Firework." I love its message of celebrating who you are.



I love Christina Aguilera's video "Beautiful" for the same reason.



I said before in a previous post I referred to earlier that I believe there is a place at God's table for all. I do not believe fear is of God. In fact, because I think it is often fear that causes hate, I feel it is accurate to say that the opposite of love is fear.

Jonah and I were talking tonight about how so often we contain ourselves in boxes because of fear. I believe there is so much more beyond the four walls we sometimes limit ourselves to. Christ's ministry, as Jonah reminded me, was not limited within four walls of a church. It was expansive; he was constantly out there getting to know all the "freaks" and loving them and caring for them when no one else would. He took special care of the misunderstood, the neglected, the shunned.

I think that's what Christ's gospel is all about. We need to love and understand each other better. I plead guilty of not doing it, too. Instead of judging people based on perceived differences, we need to find out who they really are inside and learn to communicate with them because they more than likely have something very valuable to teach us.

Jonah loves to say that when we're constantly looking down in life, we see nothing; when we look up, we see an endless sky of limitless possibilities. So much in life I think we limit ourselves because we can't think outside the box of what might be "normal" or acceptable." In doing so, I think we deprive ourselves of a great, limitless universe of possibility.

"Different" does not mean "less."

How People Should Behave

Today as I was driving on the freeway to work, the man in front of me and I signaled to change lanes at the same time. I happened to change lanes first. Instead of preventing him from getting into my lane or zipping past him before he could do so like many Utah drivers would have done, I signaled for him to come over. And instead of being annoyed by my beating him to the lane first, he changed lanes and signaled a "thank you" back to me, and I returned the favor by signaling a "your welcome," and I thought, "This is how people are supposed to behave; with civility and politeness."

Later, as I was getting ready to go home, I had to make a left hand turn past three lanes of heavy traffic. It was quite busy, and I'm sure people were trying to get home. As traffic commenced moving once the light changed, all three drivers across the three lanes I had to cross stopped to let me pass. Any one of the drivers could have just as easily moved with the flow of traffic as was their prerogative, but all three stopped in unison to let me through, and I signaled my thanks to them, and I again thought, "This is how people should behave."

In both the Salt Lake area and Las Vegas, where I drive frequently, I find an abundance of rude, inconsiderate, self-centered drivers. It was so nice today to encounter people who weren't. I wish everyone could be as kind and thoughtful as these people were in all dealings in life. It was really nice to see. Such a small thing, but I was greatly affected by it.

Just as a side note: the director of the show I am currently rehearsing gave me a thumbs up after one of my scenes and said only two words: "[Cody], perfection!" It made me feel good. All in all, it's been a very pleasant day.

Facelift

I haven't really changed the look of my blog in the almost five years it's been around. Today seemed like as good a day as any to introduce a slightly different look. Hope you like it. And if not...

...well, it's my blog, so tough!

;-)

My Case For Full-Body Scans

There's been a bit of talk lately about personal rights being infringed upon because of full-body scans and pat-downs at the airport. Frankly, if I can avoid a pat-down by going through the full-body scanner, more power to me, I say. If a TSA agent wants to get his or her jollies by looking at a digital image of my nude body, more power to them (although I somewhat pity the person who thinks that my flabby, pasty body would be much of a turn-on (no offense, Jonah!)). Whatever gets me through security the fastest.

Frankly, I've always thought that the safety precautions at the airport since 9/11 were far too reactionary and really have created more of a facade of safety than actual safety. Somebody uses a box cutter to facilitate an attack? Now practically every sharp implement is forbidden. Somebody brings a shoe bomb on a plane? Now everybody has to remove their shoes. Somebody brings harmful liquid on a plane? Now we have to put liquids in small containers in a see-through bag. But are we really safe or is it just an illusion? My thinking is if a terrorist wants to cause some damage, he or she will find a way to do it regardless of all these regulations (I love the sign at the Las Vegas airport that has a cartoon bomb with "x" over it (as if somebody who brings a bomb aboard does it absent-mindedly; "Oh, yeah. I forgot I had that bomb in my pocket! Good thing that sign reminded me.")) And the next time a terrorist does find a way to perpetuate an attack, a new regulation will be made based on whatever they did. He or she chokes a stewardess to death with his or her shoelaces? Laces and twine will be banned. Maybe belts, too. Or possibly the removable straps on your luggage. What if the terrorist fills his 3.4 oz. bottle of shampoo with some harmful liquid? We'll have to carry our shampoo in thimble-sized bottles and have to provide a sample of the shampoo so the TSA authorities will know it's what we say it is.

I'm half-joking (emphasis on half), of course, but my point is so many of these rules don't really make us any more or less safe; they just give us the illusion of safety, and that makes people feel safer. Not me. Frankly, I feel more inconvenienced than safe, but it is what it is, and if these regulations do lower the percentage of terrorist threats, then good for us.

I'm all for whatever gets me through security the fastest. I can tell I fly more often than some people. I put everything from my pockets in my carry-on long before I even get to the security checkpoint. I have my license and boarding pass out ready to go. My shoes and belt are off as soon as I get one of those trays to put them in. My liquids are regulation-sized and in their plastic baggie for all to see. Everything goes in that tray, and I go through that body scanner. Gander at my junk if you must; just get me through!

I see these poor people who don't fly very often, and I feel particularly sorry for older people who seem disoriented by the whole experience. While they're futzing with their shoes or being told they can't bring their knitting needles on board or wondering why they can't bring their jumbo container of conditioner, I'm long gone. So scan me if you must, TSA. Ogle my privates. I don't care one iota. Just get me through your ridiculous security obstacle course as quickly as possible. I've got a plane to catch!

I Wish I Knew How To Quit You (But Not Really)

About a month ago I read a post on this blog, which I commented on. Read it. I'll wait.

To be honest, I had forgotten all about it until the blogger's friend Brenda (referred to in the post) sent me an email asking if she could be my Facebook friend. Because my identity on this blog and my real identity (the one I use on Facebook) are not the same and because I do not really know Brenda, I am declining that request for the time being, but may change my mind later.

Anyway, in reviewing the original post and my comment, I noticed the other party referred to in the post (James; real name: Jeffrey, apparently) had responded after my comment.

If you just read the original post and its comments, you see that Jeffrey (bonevoce) has said, "The questions[sic] remains how can one...sustain and give tithe[sic] to leaders who say their child is 'unnatrual',[sic] say that homosexuality is a choice, can be changed AND at the same time completely support their gay child or loved one? They can't. 'I love you, but you're an abomination?' Come on.

"...Brenda isn't saving gay youth by sustaing[sic] her leaders only perpetuating hate and misinformation..."

As I said in my comment, I think Jeffrey has a bit of a chip on his shoulder, and he probably has due cause to feel that way, but I think his question also has validity, and it's a question that troubles me.

Anybody who reads my blog knows that in spite of the fact that I'm not even a member of the LDS Church anymore (on record, at least) that I still hold a great deal of love and yes, even loyalty, to said church. In spite of the fact that in some areas of my life I'm living in a way that is contrary to church teachings, and in spite of the fact that I have some disagreements over how the LDS Church has handled the issue of homosexuality, I have still come to the defense of the LDS Church on many occasions.

I probably have just cause to feel the way Jeffrey does; that someone who sustains church leaders or pays tithes to the LDS Church are not fully supporting their gay friends or family members. But I don't.

Look, do I think Church leaders have always handled the issue of homosexuality in the best or most informed way? Certainly not. Do I think words have been said in church meetings or over the pulpit that have caused great damage to those whose lives this issue affects? Most definitely. But do I think my mom or my siblings or in-laws do not support me and Jonah because they choose to glean to a religion they believe in?; do I think I am an enemy of the gay-rights crowd because I still hold firmly to many of the tenets of a faith that has shaped many of my best qualities and which has and still continues to give me instruction and a spiritual connection to my Heavenly Father? I don't. Sorry if that bothers some people, and believe me, I understand why it might. But I don't swing that way.

Does Mormonism have its problems and faults? I think it would be naive to say that it doesn't. I think it would be naive to believe any religion doesn't have problems or challenges that accompany it. My relationship with Jonah gives me great, great happiness and joy. Being out of the closet and being in this relationship have made me happy beyond anything I ever once thought possible. But there are also aspects of Mormonism that give me a great satisfaction, joy, and insight. Yes, the excommunicated member is testifying about the good Mormonism has brought to my life and the lives of others.

My family has been nothing but supportive of me, my coming out, and my relationship with Jonah. They treat Jonah as they do any of my in-laws. I feel no judgment or distaste from any of them regarding any of the choices I have made in reference to my sexuality. They know I am happy, and they are happy I am happy. I know there are many gay people whose families have not been so kind or loving or accepting, but mine has been.

They respect my free agency. They respect who I am. Likewise, I respect who they are and what they choose. Mormonism brings many of my family members great joy. I do not for one moment feel that their religious convictions diminish me in any way. I don't feel that my holding on to my Mormon roots is somehow a betrayal of my gay brothers and sisters.

So the troubling question is, are those who support or sustain leaders that teach things that may cause damage to those who deal with homosexuality in their own lives or in the lives of loved ones, somehow complicit in hurting our "gay youth," as Jeffrey says. Are they complicit in the spreading of "hate and misinformation?"

The fact of the matter is, I think there are members of the church and even leaders of the church who are troubled by this issue. I don't think this issue has always been handled well, but I believe in the innate goodness of people, including church leaders. Have there been missteps? Yes. Has there been ignorance and misinformation among both leaders and members? Yes. Will the LDS Church ever change its position on homosexuality? I honestly don't know. Does the church and many of its members still have much progress to make as far as the issue of homosexuality is concerned? Definitely. Is Jeffrey absolutely justified in feeling the ways he feels? Probably so. But I don't believe these men are evil or hateful nor do I think those that choose to follow them are malicious or evil. We're all human, and we're all searching for that which makes us happy. I can't deny anyone's right to pursue happiness however they see fit. I wouldn't want anyone to do that to me.

I just can't subscribe to the fact that if my family members (or even myself) still find value in Mormonism that we're somehow responsible for the deaths and destruction of our gay youth. I was one of those youths once. If anyone has a reason to be bitter and angry at the LDS Church or feel justified in abandoning it, I could very well be on the list. But I'm not. I'm just not. Mormonism has given me much and has given my family much, and still does. It may seem like the LDS Church has turned its back on its gay members, and perhaps in many cases it has; but I cannot turn my back on it.

Back To Rome

In ancient Roman times, so the story goes, Roman generals and emperors who had won victories over Rome's enemies would be given what was called triumphus, which was basically a ceremonial procession celebrating the victorious general or emperor. This was a big deal and something only the Senate could grant, as I understand it.

On the day of his triumphus, the victor would dress up all fancy and ride through the streets of Rome in a chariot (probably slave-driven), and people would cheer for him and shower him with flowers. Captured prisoners from the other side would also march in the procession in chains, and just for fun, a captured general from the other side might be strangled to death. Sometimes a monument would also be erected in honor of the victor. There was also usually a massive feast and, basically, a huge party.

What I find interesting, though, is that there might have been the temptation for these processions to be used by the victor as self-promotional events or as a way of causing the victor to get a big head. To help prevent this, certain precautions were taken.

The man being honored was expected to conduct himself with the utmost dignity and humility and remember that his triumph was on behalf of his people, Rome, and the gods. He was also given a wreath which he offered in a temple to the gods as a symbol of the fact that he wasn't aspiring to be king of Rome.

My favorite thing, however (which may or may not be true) was that during the procession there was a slave whose job it was to whisper in the victor's ear things that would remind him of his mortality or remind him to remain humble. The specific words may have been something like "Look behind you, remember you are only a man,' or "Remember that you are mortal," or "all glory is fleeting," or something along those lines.

Imagine having this huge, massive celebration because of important things you did and having some guy all day whispering in your ear that it will all go away, that you're just a man, that you'd better stay humble. I was thinking some of our leaders or celebrities today could use that. Heck, I think we all could. Just some guy whispering in our ears that we need to remember how we got where we are and who we did it for and that it's not about us at all and that everything we have worked so hard for could just as easily be gone tomorrow.

I suppose the Holy Ghost serves that purpose. Too bad so many people, including myself at times, tune Him out.

A Nice Reminder

Today in testimony meeting, a brother I have written about before stood up to bear his testimony. As I've said in previous posts, my history with this guy hasn't always been positive. I think he's a genuinely well-intentioned man, and he does a lot of good for many people, but he has also been guilty of making racist, homophobic, and chauvinistic remarks in the past, and he can be somewhat of a busybody, so he has rubbed me the wrong way at times. That being said, he's one of the hardest-working people I know; he is far more service-oriented than I am, and has often helped neighbors in our area (including my mother); he is very devoted to his ailing wife; and he has a strong testimony of Jesus Christ and ardently tries in his own, sometimes ineffectual way, to draw others closer to Christ. I think in some ways he is a product of an older generation and, frankly, I think he is often ignorant that some of the old-fashioned, and sometimes just plain wrong, ideas he has may be hurtful to others. This man is a very "letter-of-the-law" kind of personality and very often, I feel he misses the forest for the trees. But I do not think he is a bad man. He can sometimes be misguided, frustrating, and hypocritical, but I do not think he comes from a place of hate at all. Ignorance, yes; but not hate.

He actually called me specifically last Sunday to tell me how much he enjoyed my song and what a beautiful voice he thought I had. I thought that was kind of him.

I admit that there are times when I see him when I feel frustration and annoyance towards him. Today as he got up to bear his testimony, my first thought was "Oh, what stupid thing is he going to say now?" Instead, he got up and related a very simple story about how when he was 13 years old, he had lost a $100 bill that his father had given him to purchase supplies for their farm. $100 now is a good amount of money. Back then (this probably would have been the late 30s), it was an enormous amount. Of course, upon discovering that he had lost the money, he was devastated. He quietly retreated to a nearby ditch (he had been mowing his family's alfalfa fields) and prayed to his Father in Heaven to help him find the money. As he continued mowing, he noticed the bill had somehow become attached to the wheel and was rotating with the wheel, but was otherwise in undamaged condition. He said this experience had shaped his faith in his Heavenly Father, and as I watched him relaying this experience (and reliving it), I didn't see this man I always see; I saw a little, helpless boy, and I actually felt a feeling of great pity and compassion for him.

This man has been in my mom's ward for 32 years, and I have known him since I was seven years old. Even though I know he has a strong testimony of the gospel, and even though he is quite outspoken in Sunday School classes or Priesthood meetings, this was the first time in a while that I remember him bearing his testimony in Sacrament Meeting.

He is quite old now, and the years are showing. He was in a very serious plane crash before he moved into our ward in the late 70s and as long as I have known him he has had a speech impediment and a considerable limp (both results of the crash). I know he served as a bishop prior to joining my mom's ward and has served in many callings in my mom's ward. When he was younger, he shared his opinions quite often. He still does, but his comments often seem irrelevant, and I feel teachers are pretty much humoring him and that his comments are glossed over in order to get to the "real point" of the lesson. I think when he raises his hand to say something, people just know that he's going to say one of his "isms," and they think, "Well, there goes Brother so-and-so again." In a way, he's become kind of irrelevant (I don't even mean as an individual, but as force in the ward unit). He's just an old man; a dying breed; kind of a windbag that people tolerate.

When I say this, too, I don't mean people in the ward have stopped caring about him or loving him or that they don't respect what he may have gone through in life. I just mean that what he has to say seems less important than it did when he was younger and had more of an active role in the ward. At least, that's my impression. I could be wrong. Perhaps I'm simply projecting my own attitudes towards him on to how I think others feel about him.

I say this not to be mean, but because as I watched him at the podium today, I just felt pity for him instead of the hard feelings I sometimes feel. I felt compassion instead of annoyance. I saw him as a man who has spent his whole life serving God the best way he knew how, in spite of any flaws, weaknesses, or imperfections he may have. In a way, he looked tired and old, but as someone who had endured much in life and had done the best he could with what he had. And I thought, "That could easily be how I describe myself when I am his age." Brother so-and-so isn't a perfect man by any means. He sometimes drives me crazy and sometimes frustrates me to no end. He has even made me mad. But he is a child of God, just like me, with his own character flaws, just like me, and I do believe he has done many good things in his life and has tried to live a good life and bless others' lives even if sometimes his methods and style are more of a hindrance than a help to him. I suppose I could sometimes say that about myself. We may be opposed quite diametrically politically and philosophically, but when it comes down to it, are we really all that different in other ways?

I guess all I'm saying is that as he hobbled off the stand, I saw him in a new, and much more compassionate light. Something in me felt he has not very many years left in this earthly realm.

These positive feelings were further brought home when the last sister to give her testimony specifically brought this Brother up as someone who had helped her a great deal. This sister and her husband used to live next door to my mom. Then the husband cheated on her and left her and their kids for another woman. This sister has moved three times since then (all within our ward boundaries), and I know it has been a very rough road for her at times. But she expressed how much she loved this ward and how helpful many people have been to her during these trials, and she specifically mentioned this Brother by name, and I thought, "She doesn't find him irrelevant. She doesn't see him in the way that I sometimes see him, or if she does, it doesn't matter because he has helped her in other, very valuable ways.

I guess my whole point of this post was it was just nice that the Spirit helped me see this Brother in a more compassionate and Christ-like manner. I appreciate Heavenly Father helping me see him in a different light. It was nice to be reminded.

When Life Gives You Lemons...

This made me laugh today.

Being A Part

I sang in church yesterday. It went very well. I'm very picky about what I sing in church. I like to sing things that are unique and that speak to my heart. I also prefer to stay away from schmaltzy contemporary LDS pop. I went to the local music store and spent a good hour and a half trying to find a decent song. This, I thought, would be an easy task, but nothing was resonating with me.

I finally found an interesting book of uniquely arranged hymns. I initially chose it because it contained an arrangement of one of my favorite hymns, "Our Savior's Love." I played through it and liked it, but wasn't sure it was the right choice. The book came with a CD, so I listened to all the songs and found a few I liked. There was a very interesting version of "If You Could Hie to Kolob," a song which I don't think is sung nearly enough in church wards; a very odd, but strangely beautiful arrangement of "I Know That My Redeemer Lives"; a somewhat mournful, but nice arrangement of a song I wasn't familiar with called "Eternal Day"; and an absolutely gorgeous arrangement of a hymn I'm not very fond of called "Guide Me to Thee."

As I was contemplating with of these four I would sing, I was weighing some pros and cons. Eventually I decided that "Eternal Day" sounded a bit sad and almost funereal for a Sacrament Meeting. It was also the most challenging for me to sing. "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" contained a very simple and relevant message and was centered in Christ, which is what Sacrament Meeting ought to be about, but the arrangement seemed off-putting on some level. I liked it a lot and would probably be apt to sing it on another occasion, but it just seemed wrong for this particular meeting for some reason. "If You Could Hie to Kolob" was awesome and different and would certainly wake people up, but something also seemed a little avant garde about it, and I wasn't sure it was right, either (although it ended up being in very close competition with the song I eventually chose, "Guide Me to Thee."

"Guide Me to Thee" was, by far, my favorite of the four songs I considered. The arrangement is absolutely beautiful; almost haunting. I really loved the melody, which is odd since I don't particularly care for the original hymn it is based on. The lyrics were also troublesome to me. On one level, they are kind of depressing and a bit of a downer, especially in this particular arrangement. Here are the lyrics:

Jesus, my Savior true, Guide me to thee.
Help me thy will to do. Guide me to thee.
E'en in the darkest night
As in the morning bright,
Be thou my beacon light. Guide me to thee.

Through this dark world of strife, Guide me to thee.
Teach me a better life. Guide me to thee.
Let thy redeeming pow'r
Be with me ev'ry hour.
Be thou my safety tow'r. Guide me to thee.

When strife and sin arise,
When tears bedim my eyes,
When hopes are crushed and dead,
When earthly joys are fled,
Thy glory round me shed. Guide me to thee.


When silent death draws near, Guide me to thee.
Calm thou my trembling fear. Guide me to thee.
Let me thy mercy prove.
Let thy enduring love
Guide me to heav'n above. Guide me to thee.

I don't know, somehow all this talk about a "dark world of strife" and "strife and sin" and crushed, dead hopes and lack of "earthly joys" and "silent death" creeping up on you seemed a bit depressing and pessimistic and funereal. By nature, I am an optimist, and this song doesn't really speak of that to me even if the underlying message of Jesus guiding one through everything and granting his mercy and eternal love is a positive one.

Part of me just felt this wasn't the right song for me, an excommunicated member, to sing. I am very happy with my life and feel much joy and peace, and this song (and this specific arrangement) doesn't really reflect that, and for my first post-excommunication "performance," I kind of wanted something that reflected what I am feeling in my current life. Yet I am a sucker for a beautifully haunting and discordant melody, which this was. I also loved its simplicity and the underlying message of always following the Savior no matter what life throws at you.

After a lot of praying (and discussing it with my pianist and family members), this felt like the right song to sing. I tend to get emotional when I sing in church, and this song certainly could get me emotional. But I did not want to be emotional or cry during this song. I did very well. Just a hint of breaking down towards the end, but I kept it together.

It was a beautiful piece, and I thought it went really well. I also was pleased that I could "bear my testimony" of the Savior in Sacrament Meeting through song, and it was nice to feel more a part of the ward. I received a lot of compliments from various ward members afterward, and my bishop seemed very grateful for what the music added to the meeting. I don't say that in a boastful way, honest. I was just pleased to feel like I was contributing to the meeting and that hopefully I was able to help others feel the Spirit.

I still like going to church, but it can be frustrating at times to not be able to contribute as much as I wish I could. I loved giving talks, for example. I enjoyed teaching. I enjoyed commenting during lessons (and there are times when I'm dying to say something that I feel will be useful or of import, but I can't). I still read scriptures out loud (which I enjoy) and, of course, sing, and that at least makes me feel like I'm still a part of the ward family. And I enjoy my relationships with many of the people in my mom's ward (the ward I grew up in), so I still feel a part of things in that way as well. But I admit there are times when it is hard to be "left out." I also recognize that as far as the policies and rules that govern the church are concerned, I am "left out" based on my own actions. I get that there are consequences, and I am willing to accept those, and for the most part, I am fine when it comes to my limited participation in church. It just felt nice to be more a part of things today.

In the near future, I may be involved in something that may "out" me to many people in my ward and in my local community. I do not wish to reveal more at this time, but it is something that will cause my sexual orientation to be known to a wider audience. I am a private person by nature, and I know that putting myself out there is a risk of sorts. Yet I have prayed a lot about it, and if done right, I feel it can be a positive thing and maybe shed light or a new perspective on something that needs it. It feels like the right thing to do and the right time to do it. I am not scared or ashamed. I feel it will be a good thing. I will write more about this later, I'm sure, but that's all I wish to say about it now. I just hope when my fellow ward members know more about who I really am that they will react positively. I guess we'll see.

Why Don't I Like Angels In America?

This past month, I've had the opportunity to see the play Angels in America, which is considered by many to be one of the most important contemporary American plays in theatre history and certainly a pivotal play in the history of gay drama. It has won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama as well as the Tony Award and Drama Desk Award. Its television adaptation won several Emmys. It is required reading in many theatre programs across the country and probably the world. In many ways, it is a play of epic proportions with very good writing and interesting characters. It's rarely performed in my neck of the woods (Utah) and so to get a chance to actually see a production of it is something that should be done. I've had a month to see it. Tonight was closing night (sold out, by the way), and yet I had put off seeing it. Why? Because I do not like the play. In fact, the only reason I saw it was because three very good friends of mine were in it and I wanted to support them (that, and a discounted ticket).

As a gay man; as someone who grew up Mormon; as someone who grew up in the 80s; as an actor; as someone who considers himself a theatre connoisseur; as someone who appreciates good acting and good writing, I have every reason to be attracted to and like this play. But I don't, and I can't even really explain why. And every fiber of my being tells me I'm supposed to like this play and that if I don't, there's something wrong with me. I feel the same way about Citizen Kane as far as films go.

Don't get me wrong. From a technical standpoint; from a creative standpoint; from an acting and writing standpoint; and as far as its importance in theatre and its impact on the time it was written, I can appreciate it (just as I understand why Citizen Kane is an important movie in film history). I appreciate Angels in America's value and craftsmanship and understand why it's so important in theatre history, in drama, and, specifically, in gay drama. I can appreciate why it is so critically acclaimed; I just have never really felt connected or drawn to it. It doesn't speak to me for some reason.

I actually auditioned for this production at the director's request for the part of Roy Cohn, although I knew I was too young to play the role. Still, it's a part that an actor would love to sink his teeth into and give those teeth for a chance to play it. And yet, although I needed the job, part of me was hoping not to get cast because I'm not passionate about the play (although I wonder if I had been cast if maybe I would have developed more of an appreciation for the piece). As it turns out, I wasn't cast (I was told I gave an amazing audition but was deemed too young for the role) and ended up getting a part in another play, which I am currently doing. In any case, I was somewhat relieved.

Angels in America has some brilliant writing and great characters. It's a daunting and challenging piece and certainly has poignancy. The production I saw this evening was well acted and well directed. I was proud of my friends' work (really, the whole cast was quite good). And yet, I just didn't feel particularly engaged. This is no one's fault but mine and my own prejudices towards the play.

I've read the play several times over the course of my life and while getting both my Bachelor's and Master's Degrees in Theatre. I've analyzed it, written about it, seen scenes from it, and even did a project on it in my undergraduate school. But it's always felt like a chore.

I remember the first time I read it. It was for a class on contemporary drama. We read, discussed, and did projects on many plays that quarter, Angels in America being one of them. At that time, it was all the rage. It may have still been on Broadway or just recently finished its Broadway run. It was considered very topical, very important, and very required reading. I had recently returned from my mission and, frankly, knew very little about it. In the class we were divided in groups of two or three and each group had to do a specific play as a project. Somehow, my group was saddled with Angels in America. I began reading this play I knew nothing about and, quite frankly, hated it. Now I will freely admit that at the time I was still very closeted and just fresh off of my mission, so maybe that had something to do with my bias against it. I couldn't stand the swearing, the characters, and what at the time I felt was disjointed writing (I no longer feel that way today).

The characters of Joe and Harper Pitt (a Mormon couple, one of whom is a closeted gay) were not like any Mormons I personally knew, and I did not relate to either of them, although I certainly should have been able to relate to Joe at least on some level. As for the the other main characters, a gay man dying of AIDS; his Jewish partner who leaves him because he can't deal with his illness; a gay nurse; the lawyer, Roy Cohn; etc., I just didn't relate to any of them or know anybody like them at that time. The very New York vibe of the play was also foreign to me. The political and thematic elements were kind of lost of this naive Utah boy, and quite frankly, I think the play was too smart for me at the time.

In any case, I resented having to do my project on this particular play. It was drudgery. I also freely admit that, at the time, a gay-themed play was something frightening to someone who was trying to suppress anything gay that was inside of him.

However, as years went by and I matured and became smarter, on subsequent readings of the play, I was able to assess and appreciate its value. Tonight was the first time I'd ever seen an entire, fully-mounted production of the play (well, part 1 at least; they're doing part 2 as a reading), and certainly I could appreciate the acting, scene work, writing, and thematic elements. It's a very well-crafted and dramatic piece. But I still don't like it. Even though I feel I ought to relate to these characters, I don't (even Joe, who is the most relatable character to me, specifically, I think). I certainly can't say I was bored, although I did find myself looking at my watch wondering how much longer it would be before the show ended.

The truth of the matter is I'm not even sure why I dislike the play. I have every reason to like it, but I don't. On some level I even feel it's overrated, but I don't know why. I feel like I ought to like it or that I'm supposed to like it, but I don't. It isn't the writing. It's very good writing. It wasn't the acting. It was well-acted. Even though I don't fully relate to any of the characters, they are are well-written, fully-developed, interesting characters. The themes of the piece are certainly relevant. The subject matter is not distasteful to me. Logically, I understand why it is an important piece of theatre. I don't regret seeing it. I think it was worth my time The play still resonates, I think. It just doesn't seem to resonate with me personally.

Perhaps I'm still carrying old prejudices. No matter how many times I've read the play (and now, having seen a decent production of it), I still feel disconnected from it. It doesn't draw me in or affect me emotionally. I appreciate it from a technical standpoint, but not a visceral one. It's like I'm standing outside it thinking, "I should like this. I should find this compelling. I should be moved by this. I should relate to this." But I don't. I never have. And I'm not really sure why.

Thoughts From My Sister

My older sister reads my blog. Yesterday I received this email from her (which she said I could post):

I don't see your gayism as a sin - it's not something you chose. You developed a love for [Jonah] and you became happy. Happier than you've ever been in your life. And God wants you to be happy. Otherwise he wouldn't have put you in that situation. But I guess you already know that.

The Spirit can be felt by one who is not a member of the Church - so why cannot a non member also deliver? Your voice has always been a strong attribute, and you do invite the Spirit when you sing. And people are going to know that. And that is a good thing.

Why did Ruby Bridges have to be escorted to an empty classroom and spend lunch by herself. It was part of the movement. Not a path she chose - but one that was necessary for the black race. Maybe you are the Ruby Bridges of the same sex attraction - those that don't choose - the attraction is there - and it's genuine. I think you are a great example to sooo many people. People LOVE you. People you don't even know. Some people you would assume not know. Some people you wish didn't know you - but they admire you. And there will be conflict: "Why would the bishop have permit [Cody] to sing if he knew his background?" but that will be their problem, not yours. While some become stiffnecked about it (or more stiffnecked) others will admire you even more.

You are happy. Admitance and acceptance have helped you. It's a shame not everyone has that. It's a shame that so many are shamed because of feelings that they can't control - that you can't control.

We are all dealt packages - no two are the same. ...And I think you have done a beautiful job of working things out.

This was my response:

Unfortunately, there are many in the world (and in the Church) who do see acting on one's gay feelings as a sin. Leaders of the Church still teach that. But as you've said, it is not a choice (at least, it sure has never felt like one), and that is what troubles me. At my heart, I still believe the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is Christ's church on earth, and yet this particular facet of my life (which is a very vital one) does not match up with what the LDS Church teaches. I do not know why this is, and I guess it doesn't really matter since I feel very at peace with my standing and relationship with God, but I do not understand the seeming contradiction, and I know so many gay people who fought for so long to not be gay who simply couldn't do it. Unlike me, some of those people have grown bitter and angry towards either God or their religion because they felt betrayed for being told if they had enough faith or just worked hard enough, they could "beat" their homosexual feelings. Others have lost their belief in God completely and consider themselves atheists. Others tried getting married because that's what their religion required of them and ended up leaving shattered wives (and in some cases, children) when it didn't work out. Others have remained true to their faith and some are even in marriages, but seem unfulfilled or incomplete or lonely. Still others feel unworthy or guilty or depressed because of their inability to balance what they feel as far as their sexuality is concerned with what their religion teaches them. It's all very sad to me, and I don't understand why it must be that way.

Nor do I understand why, if I'm practicing something in my life that goes against what a religion I believe in teaches, am I so much happier now than I was when I was trying hard to do what I was taught. But I know that anybody who knows me well would agree that I am, indeed, happier.

I guess maybe it's just one of those mysteries we won't understand until some later time. I remember spending years wondering why God "cursed" me with homosexual feelings and wondering why, since I was trying so hard to do exactly what he said I should do, none of it was working. Now I no longer care why I'm gay. I just know I am, and like I said, the whys and wherefores don't matter anyway because I feel in my heart that God is happy that I am happy, and as far as I am concerned, God's opinion outweighs that of any man.

I agree with what you said about the Spirit. I once thought that if I was excommunicated, I might lose the Spirit, but I don't believe that at all. I've felt it many, many times since I was, and I know I've shared it as well. I think you're definitely right that the Spirit will be present when I sing (as it has often been).

I hope I am a good example. I try to be. A big fear of mine is I don't ever want to do anything that would lead anybody astray or away from God. I hope I never do.

Thanks for your words. They mean a lot. ...I agree with you: I think I have done a pretty fine job of working things out. Coming out, taking the chance on a relationship with [Jonah], getting excommunicated; these were all scary things to do when I did them, but the blessings and rewards of doing so have been so unimaginably awesome. [One of my good friends] said, "Coming out was the single most difficult decision I have ever made and the most honest thing I have ever done." I understand completely what he means.

I love you very much. Thank you for your love and support in my life. It is invaluable.

Love,

[Cody]

My sister also sent me this email in response to my puzzle post:

I was laughing at your frustration - understanding it - expecting an anology. I foresee one. You have finally put the puzzle pieces together in your own life - perhaps not all of them - but the picture is there; you are strong enough to hold it together. It is too bad that there are so many who allow people to interfer when others come along and mess up the remaining pieces that were so neatly compiled - even during your struggles you were always able to identify your next move - it may have taken longer when your pieces were moved or misplaced. But even when you have felt out of control, I think you have had more control than you have allowed yourself to believe . . .

We all struggle in one way or another. Joseph Smith had to physically wrestle in darkness until Heavenly Father appeared to him. And we all wonder why Heavenly Father doesn't pull us out sooner - why centuries of people waited so long for the Messiah to come and had literrally left the earth centuries before he arrived. There is a Christian song I listen to often. Unfortunately I don't have record of the author - but the name of the artist is Casting Crowns. And these are the lyrics:

I was sure by now God you would have reached down

And wiped our tears away stepped in and saved the day

But once again I say Amen and it’s still raining

As the thunder rolls I barely hear you whisper through the rain

I’m with you and as your mercy falls I raise my hands and

praise the God who gives and takes away

And I praise you in this storm and I will lift my hands that

you are who you are

No matter where I am and every tear I cry you

hold in your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn,

I will praise you in the storm

I remember when I stumbled in the wind

You heard my cry

You raised me up again strength is almost gone

How can I carry on if I can’t find you

As the thunder rolls I barely hear you whisper through the rain

I’m with you and as your mercy falls I raise my hands and

praise the God who gives and takes away

And I praise you in this storm and I will lift my hands that

you are who you are

No matter where I am and

every tear I cry you hold in your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn,

I will praise you in the storm

I lift my eyes into the hill

Where does my help come from

My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth

My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth

You can quote me on anything that you'd like for your blog. And when/if you make it public you can use my name. I'm not ashamed. I can handle it. Paul received riducule. Jesus Christ. Different crosses to bear - but we can bear them together. I love you.

Thanks, sis. I love you, too.

Of Interest

Brad Carmack, a 2011 JD/MPA Candidate at BYU (and a straight man) has written an interesting book on homosexuality and the LDS Church. While I haven't read it all, much of it I have looked over, and I'm impressed by the amount of research and time that must have gone into it, and I think it's worth a look. Brad asked me to guest post the following:

Title: Homosexuality: A Straight BYU Student’s Perspective

1) President Packer’s general conference talk
2) The recent rash of suicides by gay teens across the country, accompanying “It Gets Better Project,” and current suffering of my homosexually oriented brothers and sisters
3) My coauthor, from whom I have received much help and inspiration, wants it out sooner than later

These are the reasons why I am releasing my book now. I preferred to wait until Homosexuality: A Straight BYU Student’s Perspective was groomed and edited further; however, it is not my book alone. Heavenly Father helped me write it, and I believe He would have me release it rather than keep it on my hard drive while I spend months making minor improvements. This book is destined to relieve some of the suffering of my homosexual brothers and sisters, though I don’t yet know by how much. Stuart Matis, shortly before committing suicide on the steps of an LDS chapel on February 25, 2000 in Los Altos, California, wrote to his family: “Perhaps my death ... might become the catalyst for much good. I'm sure that you will now be strengthened in your resolve to teach the members and the leaders regarding the true nature of homosexuality. My life was actually killed many years ago. Your actions might help to save many young people's lives."

So here it is- my 165-page magnum opus to date, in raw .docx and .pdf form (google doc: https://docs.google.com/leaf?id=0B1u3K43P-3JoYTUzNjYwMGEtNzNmYi00ODkwLTllMzYtNjRlOTVlMWUwYTM2&hl=en
Non gmail users, in .pdf only:
http://rapidshare.com/files/426861209/Homosexuality_A_Straight_BYU_Student_s_Perspective_Draft_2.pdf). I invite your feedback as I’m still in the later editing stage. Summary of the book below.

My promise to the open-minded reader is that you will be touched, you will learn things you had never considered, and your views on same-sex marriage and homosexuality in the LDS church will likely change voluntarily.

-Bradley Carmack
Summary: The book has two parts: 1) homosexuality (chapters 1-3) and 2) same-sex marriage (chapters 4-7).

In chapter 1, I argue that church members should have great compassion for homosexually oriented members of the church because of the personal difficulties they experience as a result of their orientation and how the Mormon community typically responds to that orientation. I quote a number of studies and give voice to the experiences of many LDS homosexually oriented people.

In chapter 2, I explore causation, detailing both the religious voice and the scientific consensus. Elder Oaks noted how appropriate this type of an inquiry is: "The Church does not have a position on the causes of any of these susceptibilities or inclinations, including those related to same-gender attraction. Those are scientific questions — whether nature or nurture — those are things the Church doesn’t have a position on." I detail 60 statements by church leaders on what causes homosexuality. On the scientific side, I discuss 32 separate subjects to juxtapose two opposing hypotheses for the causation of homosexual orientation: 1) biological factors such as genes and pre-natal hormones, and 2) factors such as infection, molestation, and choice. Some examples of the evidence addressed: homosexual men have, on average, measurably and significantly different ratios of the second to fourth digit of their hands than their heterosexual counterparts. The anterior commissure of their brains is gender shifted away from the heterosexual male norm and toward the heterosexual female norm. Their limb:trunk ratio is similarly gender-shifted, as is their performance on visio-spatial tasks, third interstitial nucleus (a region of the brain thought to be directive of male-type sexual behavior) size and density, left:right brain hemisphere ratio, brain response to sex pheromones, cochlear sound production, thalamic response to female faces, verbal abilities, physical aggressiveness, expressiveness, and childhood gender conformity to name just a few.

In chapter 3 I examine how changeable sexual orientation is by considering relevant church doctrines and looking at the empirical evidence on both sides.

In chapter 4 I show why homosexuals can reproduce, contrary to popular belief, and note that they are no different from inherently infertile heterosexual couples as to their reproductive capacity.

In chapter 5 I argue why, assuming for a moment that homosexual behavior is not sinful, it makes a lot of moral sense to support LDS same-sex marriage. For instance, I show how important family is to mortal experience and point out that celibacy does not provide a family experience, while same-sex marriage does.

Chapter 6 contains rebuttals to common anti- same-sex marriage arguments, many of which are deeply flawed.

Chapter 7 applies Elder Oaks's recent speech on the Constitution. Many church members have said that Judge Walker should not have heard the Perry v. Schwarzenegger (Prop 8) case, but instead should have let the voice of the people of California decide the matter. I show why this view is antithetical to our constitutional system of governance.

In closing, I explain my motivations for writing and make invitations to the reader.

____________________________________________________

Bio:
Brad Carmack is in his last year of the JD/MPA program at BYU. He majored in Biology, performed clerk assignments for Justice Joel Horton of the Idaho Supreme Court, and is currently a teacher’s assistant for Human Resources Law and Bioethics. Brad also regularly participates in USGA [Understanding Same Gender Attraction], an unsponsored BYU student talk group

The Atonement

Church was quite enjoyable today. I really enjoyed Sunday School a lot. I almost didn't go to church today at all (I just opened a show (we had two performances yesterday)) and attended a Halloween party, and didn't get to bed until 3:00 AM, so I was quite tired. But I'd also been given the "all-clear" to sing in Sacrament Meeting and wanted to let the ward chorister know (in my bishop's words, "President ________ and I agreed that we see no reason why you can't sing, and I look very forward to hearing you sing soon"). Anyway, I'm singing next week (not sure what yet).

In any case, I did go to church and was glad I did. The main focus of the lesson was the atonement, and I felt the Spirit whisper several things to me today.

One of the main points I want to get across was that I really felt the worth of a human soul, no matter what condition that soul thinks he or she is in. So many people feel unworthy or unloved or alone. People feel depressed because they feel they are feeling short of their potential. And yet the Savior purchased each and every one of us individually because he knew we were worth it. Think about it. Think about the heavy price the Savior paid for that purchase. It would be easy to say, "Whoa, Lord, you're not going to get a very good return on your investment," and yet the most perfect, most knowledgeable man who ever walked the earth thought it was worth it. It might be easy to think, "Well, he just did that for the souls that had the most potential," but I am convinced that if had just been for your individual soul or just for mine, the Savior would have done exactly the same thing. That is how precious we are to him and our Heavenly Father.

Satan is really good at making us feel like crap. He's good at making us feel worthless and unloved and alone and afraid and guilty. I spent a good portion of my life feeling that way. It's easy to lose sight of the fact (or even not believe) that God and Jesus really do love and value each and every one of us as much as they claim they do. My gosh, if you think about what both of them went through just to pay the ransom that was on each and every one of our souls, it's incredible. Jesus Christ made the choice to suffer and to die for us not only because he knew it was the right thing to do, but because we were worth it.

Which brings me to another point that hit me today: We're taught that if we do our best, Christ's atonement will take care of the rest; it will fill the gap that we are unable to fill ourselves. Well, what is a person's best, really? How do we measure that? For years I thought, "I'll never be good enough; I'll never be able to do enough to merit the perfection and eternal life our Father in Heaven has promised us if we just do our best." Well, guess what? None of us can. That's the whole point of the atonement. You and I could work our little heinies off until we were bruised and battered, and it would still never be enough. The least spot of sin or weakness automatically shuts us out and no matter how hard we try, without the atonement, we would all be shut out. That's the justice part.

The mercy part (which is the part I love) is that Christ and Heavenly Father love and value each of us so much that the price was paid. All we have to do is the best we are able under the conditions life has given us. So what if one person's very best is only 60%? Well, Christ's atonement fills in the 40% gap, making the payment 100% (which is exactly what is required - no more, no less). Suppose somebody's very best is only 10%? Christ fills in the other 90%, and we're still at the needed 100%. What if a person's best is only 5%? Christ gives 95%, and the required 100% is still attained. Suppose a person is given circumstances in life where after all they can do, they can only muster a measly 1%? Others might look at that and say, "Hey, I gave 75%!" or "I gave 98%! Surely my 98% is worth more than that person's paltry 1%! Surely, Lord, you wouldn't let that person in without making them try harder!" It seems to me that if 1% is all that person can give, that is all that required. The miracle of the atonement (and it is indeed a miracle) will fill the 99% gap that that particular individual lacks, and 100% is all a person needs.

When the widow gave her measly mite, she gave all she had. As Mark 12:43-44 says, "...this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury:
"For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living."

It's also akin to the parable of the vineyard workers found in Matthew 20:1-16:

"For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard.
"And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard.
"And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the marketplace,
"And said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you. And they went their way.
"Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise.
"And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle?
"They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive.
"So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first.
"And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny.
"But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny.
"And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house,
"Saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day.
"But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny?
"Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee.
"Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good?
"So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen."

Although there are other applications to this scripture, I want to concentrate on the point that the Savior gives us exactly what he promises us. We all must work to receive the promised reward. Some work a lot and some work a little, but if each does exactly what they were required to do, they will all get what they were promised to be paid. Of some is required a lot and of some is required less. Some people's 1% is just as fairly earned as other souls' 99%, and those who were able to achieve 99% on their own might be tempted to look at the person who only got to 1% on his or her own and cry foul and say, "That's not fair! We worked so much harder! Why do they get in?"

But who's to say that they didn't work just as hard and sweat just as much and toil the best they could to get that 1% as someone else who managed to get to 99%? Well, the only ones who can judge that fairly and perfectly are God, the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. And that's what's wonderful. We don't have to judge ourselves or each other as far as who is going to "make it" and who is not. That isn't to say we still don't have personal responsibility to do the best we feel we are able; but leave the final decision and judgment up to the Godhead.

Jesus is often referred to as the Mediator or our Advocate. I think too often people look at God or the Son as beings who are judging us and picking apart our every flaw, weakness, and sin, just waiting for us to fail so they can shut us out of the kingdom, and too many people take on that position themselves when the only one who has the right to is God Himself. I think the Father and Son are loving, merciful beings who are proud of the littlest successes we have in life, who cradle us in their arms when we have a setback and quietly encourage us to get up and try again. They are infinitely patient. No matter how many times we fail, they are there to encourage us and pick us back up. And if our 1% or 5% or 10% or 25% or 45% or whatever is all we can muster, they are happy and satisfied with all we are able to do to draw closer to them. I imagine Jesus as someone who pleads our case to the Father with great mercy, not as someone who is trying to block us or condemn us. In those cases where someone is denied promised blessings because they squelched their mortal probation, I imagine the Father and Son feel a great deal of love and compassion for that individual because that's simply the place they operate from.

I used to believe Heavenly Father was disappointed in me or frustrated with me or sorry for me that I was such a failure. I've come to a place in my life where I feel such an unimaginable amount of love and compassion and mercy and patience and happiness coming from my Father. I am worth the price Jesus paid for me and always have been, even when I didn't believe it. I do not know where I will end up in the afterlife, but I feel great peace and joy in my life and am grateful that the Lord knows my heart so beautifully and infinitely and that I will be judged accordingly and with an absolute perfect knowledge, something none of us can do here in mortality.

I love the Lord so much. I am indeed grateful for him, and I am grateful for the things he teaches me. I pray I am doing Him proud and representing Him. Whether I am or not, I know He values and cherishes my soul on a level I can't even begin to comprehend. And that's how He feels about your soul, too.

To Sing Or Not To Sing?

So I'm at church last Sunday, and the ward chorister, who's also in charge of picking songs and arranging what musical numbers will be done during Sacrament Meeting, comes up to me and says, "[Cody], we sure haven't heard you sing in a while. I'd love it if you could sing something in Sacrament Meeting in the next couple of weeks." I stammer and say, "Uh, well let me get back to you." This is normally a no-brainer, as I've been asked to sing in church many times during the course of my life; however, this is the first time I've been asked to do so since I was excommunicated. I'm not sure what the protocol is here. Is this something I'm allowed to do still? I can't see the harm. After all, I'd just be singing and unless it's something like "I Am What I Am" from La Cage aux Folles or Duran Duran's "Wild Boys," I can't imagine there would be any issue. I know of several instances where people who were inactive or not members at all have sung in church, so why shouldn't I be able to?

Nonetheless, I decide to get my bishop (former bishop, I guess)'s approval or input. I ask him. He says he doesn't think it will be an issue and would actually love to hear me sing, but will ask the stake president. Knowing the stake president, I don't anticipate it will be an issue for him, either, but who knows? I've never been excommunicated before; not sure how all this works.

I call Jonah to tell him about it, mostly because I find the whole thing mildly amusing. Jonah is not as amused as I am; it makes him mad. He thinks it's stupid that I even need to ask or that there would be an issue at all. But then again, Jonah thinks the whole concept of excommunication is kind of stupid and weird.

The bishop calls my house, but I am not home. He doesn't leave a message with my mom, but tells me to please call back. I'm not sure if this is good or bad.

I finally get a hold of him. He says neither he nor the stake president have any problem with it and that he looks very forward to hearing me sing in church again. It's now up to me to call the chorister and let her know that I am available to sing. It will be nice to do so again. I'm looking very forward to it.

Still, it's all a bit weird jumping through hoops to do what used to be a no-brainer. I guess life is full of little adjustments.

Puzzle Envy

I am a jigsaw puzzle master! I very much enjoy jigsaw puzzles, and I am quite good at putting them together. I seem to have the innate ability to quickly identify where pieces go and put them there. I would probably go so far as to say that I am a bit of a jigsaw puzzle snob. I've put puzzles together with people who just don't know what they're doing. They'll be looking at a piece and trying to place it in an area where it obviously (to me, that is) doesn't go, and although I enjoy their company, I sort of roll my eyes and think, "If it were up to you, we'd never get this puzzle together." Now I say most of this in a half-joking way to preface an experience a friend of mine and I had at work today.

I'm currently rehearsing a show at a local theater. Some of the cast of the show preceding ours had started a jigsaw puzzle of Mickey Mouse in the green room (for those of you not from the theatre world, a green room is an area where the actors can relax when they're not rehearsing or when they are off stage). This Mickey Mouse puzzle is one of those mosaic pictures where a giant image (in this case: Mickey Mouse) is made up of smaller pictures (stills from different Disney cartoons). As far as puzzles go, it is mildly challenging, but certainly not the most difficult I have encountered.

A friend of mine (who is in the cast of the show we are currently rehearsing) and I decided we would finish this puzzle. Both of us are very organized in how we set up the pieces (something I cannot say for whoever started the puzzle) and both of us seem to be very good at putting it together. We had categorized and laid out pieces by where we felt they would go in the puzzle and had put a number of them right-side-up (that is to say the image on the piece was correctly oriented so that if we were facing it, it would face the correct direction as it would appear in the final picture (does that make sense at all? I know what I mean, anyway.)). We had made much progress during breaks in our rehearsal, but because our breaks aren't long, and that's the only time we have to work on the puzzle, we were going slower than we would if we had ample time to devote to it.

Anyway, at lunch today we were kind of excited to get back to it, and we walked into the green room and saw two people on the technical crew (who were on their lunch break) working on the puzzle. I suppose that's fine. After all, neither my friend nor I started the puzzle, and it is in a public area. However, we looked into each other's eyes a bit disappointedly and in a bit of frustration; partly because we knew we couldn't work on the puzzle with them and that, therefore, our time with the puzzle would be limited; but mostly because these two individuals had completely messed all the pieces up and were staring at the pieces and the unfinished puzzle dumbfoundedly and clearly had no idea what they were doing. In fact, one of the technicians muttered, "I hate this puzzle!" which made my friend think (he later told me) "Then why are you doing it?"

My friend decided to go home for lunch. My house was too far away for a trip home, so I ate my lunch in the green room and worked on other things on my computer while I silently watched these two people flounder for 45 minutes as they unsuccessfully tried to work on the puzzle. I silently thought to myself, "Amateurs!"

Finally they left, needing to get back to work. I proceeded to correct the damage that they had done and put more pieces in place in the next 20 minutes than they had done in the 45 I had observed them.

Soon it was time to get back to rehearsal. My friend entered, and I looked at him, and he said, "Don't even talk to me about it." We laughed.

Truly, everything I've written is in mock seriousness. It's hard to convey in written word, but I am not really upset about any of this. It's more tongue-in-cheek. I just thought it was funny and was joking with other cast mates later that puzzles should be left to the experts. Some people just don't have the knack. Another friend said she didn't have patience for puzzles. She could never figure out where the pieces go and was always putting them in the wrong places. I said, "at least you know that. These two people didn't seem to. I just wanted to jokingly say, 'All right, let the professionals in. Nothing to see here, folks. We'll take care of this.'"

As I later recounted this story to my mom, she was laughing; probably because she knows that she's one of those people who isn't very good at jigsaw puzzles and will continually try to put a piece where I can clearly see it doesn't belong. I just smile and let her do so.

Anyway, it's probably not as humorously expressed here as I had hoped, but it made me laugh.

Oh, and by the way, my friend and I fixed all the pieces again. Wonder how long that will last. :-)

Food For Thought

My neighbor came to my mom's house today while I was there. This is the husband of my neighbor referred to in my last post (the one who sent me the Facebook message). My neighbors (let's call them Raymond and Ruth) have been close friends of my parents since my parents and my neighbors moved into this neighborhood nearly 50 years ago.

I asked Raymond to give me his first account description of what occurred in Priesthood meeting yesterday. He said that they had been watching clips of different speakers from General Conference, and towards the end of the meeting our other neighbor (who we'll call Clyde) made a rather sharp comment about "the gays" and how they needed to be stopped because it was just plain wrong.

Raymond said my former bishop said something akin to "Now, hold on, Clyde. There are people in our neighborhood, even our ward, who deal with this, and they are good people, and when you say things like that, it is very hurtful, and it is inappropriate for you to say things like that." Raymond said that the message my former bishop was giving (in kinder words) was "You need to mind your own business, stop judging others, and sit down and shut up." Raymond said he was so proud of our former bishop and of the Christlike way in which he handled the situation (because, of course, he didn't actually say "sit down and shut up), but he did chastise Brother Clyde (and, justly, I feel).

I told Raymond that through the course of my life I had heard many ignorant and hurtful comments said about gay people in church meetings, and that they often caused great pain. Raymond said he was sure that was true. It was nice to hear of somebody saying "That isn't right!" It made me love my former bishop even more than I already do.

Raymond and I talked about how we're glad that God is the one in charge of judging and that we were glad he knows each person's heart intimately. Raymond (who's very active and has been a temple worker for many years and has held many callings in his life) told me he had a theory. He said he felt we were put on this earth for three things: to gain knowledge, to do, and to become.

He said that, first, we gain knowledge, but that no matter how much knowledge we gain while we're here that if we don't do things based on the knowledge we've gained, all the knowledge in the world is pointless.

So the second thing is that we must do things based on the knowledge we've acquired, but that we should do things for the right reasons. For example, a person can go to church and pay tithing and go to the temple, but only be doing it out of duty or to show others what a "good person" he is, whereas somebody who isn't a member of the church at all might be doing acts of service or good things because he genuinely cares for others, and so the supposedly "lesser" of the two is actually doing things for the right reasons and that will count in his favor. It's like the difference between the Pharisees that gave loads of money in tithing to show how obedient they were and the widow who gave her "mite" (all that she had) because she knew it was right. In actuality, she gave the most.

Which brings us to the third thing: becoming. Based on what we do, we become. We may become like God, which is (according to LDS doctrine) the whole point of being here or we may become like Satan. And then Raymond said something that really resonated with me. He said a person who isn't necessarily following the "rules" can become more like God by his genuine actions than someone who is following all the rules for the wrong reasons, and it is those people who will gain celestial glory in the last days.

In his theory (and again, he stressed that it was merely a theory), he wondered if those who gained telestial glory were simply the "gainers of knowledge" while those who gained terrestrial glory were simply the "doers" and those who gained celestial glory were the ones who were actually "becoming like God" regardless of their religion or lack of one. It really rang true in my heart, and I really felt a strong spirit as he relayed his theory.

In the religious tenets of Mormonism, I always thought that I was just consigned to terrestrial glory based on the choices I've made (which I felt I could live with), but a voice whispered to me that maybe it was indeed possible for someone like me who has been excommunicated from the LDS Church to gain celestial glory simply based on pure intentions (and deeds perpetuated by those intentions) of a heart that is trying to become like God and do those things that God would do.

I'm not saying that I'm bound for celestial glory. Only God knows that, and frankly, I have no idea how good one has to be to achieve that or whether I am that good. But it was something I just saw from a different point-of-view this evening, and I was grateful for it.

I have many weaknesses and faults. I am, by no means, perfect. I can be selfish and lazy and critical. But I am trying to be the best me I can be. I figure that's all I can do, and that Jesus Christ's atonement will make up for that which I lack. I'm just glad God is in charge of final judgment and that he bases that judgment on a perfect communication with his individual children's hearts. That gives me great comfort.

I try not to concern myself too much anymore about where I will end up in the afterlife. I spent many years fretting and worrying about it. Now I just try to live the best life I can and hope that my actions and words help lift people up or bring people closer to Christ rather than tear them down or draw them away from Christ. I don't know whether I am doing that or not, but I just try to be as good of a person as I know how to be; improve on the things I lack or am weak in; and let God take care of the rest. Isn't that all any of us can do? As far as I'm concerned, it is.

Defending the Gays

A friend (who serves in the Relief Society and was also present at my church disciplinary council) passed this note along to me via Facebook. My comments are in italics:

"You will probably be interested in [my husband's] account of something that happened in Priesthood meeting today. One of our "favorite" neighbors [this man in our ward who sometimes says inappropriate things and has been known to make homophobic statements] was praising and giving a very harsh spin on [Boyd K. Packer's] talk. [Our old bishop - a good friend I've written about many times in my blog] took him on in no uncertain terms, told him [the] talk had already been modified and that when comments were made like those just made, many people (even right there) were being hurt. And in so many words our "neighbor" was told to "shut up." All from one of the most Christlike guys we know. (I think this may shut down the comments from a few other notorious commenters--hope so.)"

My history with this particular neighbor hasn't always been a good one. I will say he has many good qualities such as the fact that he is very service-oriented and takes good care of his ailing wife, but he also is incredibly old fashioned in his attitudes towards women, gay people, and people of race. We are definitely not on the same wavelength politically. Sometimes I find him a bit of a busybody who is much more a "letter-of-the-law" kind of individual than I am. I find him somewhat narrow-minded.

My old bishop, on the other hand, is (as my friend says) "one of the most Christlike guys [I know]." He is very devoted to his religion and also truly loves everyone and is very nonjudgmental. I love him dearly. So often in church meetings people will sometimes say ignorant things or harsh things about gay people, and I'm glad my old bishop took a stand and basically told this other brother that what he was saying was harmful and inappropriate. I'm glad somebody followed the spirit and put this guy in his place.

Another friend (and former missionary companion) wrote me and said:

"I think Elder Packer's comments were poorly worded. Several things he said came across as ignorant opinions--although I sense he actually meant something different. Usually conference talks are a lot more carefully thought out, and I was annoyed that he made several statements in his talk that sounded like ignorance rather then spiritual advice. I sincerely hope that's not how he meant it, and I pray it wasn't discouraging to you."

I responded by saying,

"Thanks so much for your comments... Unlike some of my friends, I do think Elder Packer's words were well-intended even if they ended up having the opposite effect for many people. Some people accuse him of coming from a place of hate, but I do not feel that at all. I feel some of his remarks do comes from a place of ignorance. Regardless of his position in the church or his spiritual insight, the fact of the matter is that Elder Packer doesn't likely have any idea what it's like to be gay or how his words might come across to a gay person. Even if he's an inspired man, some of his remarks show that he doesn't truly understand things from a gay person's point-of-view. Again, I actually think his intentions are good. He's preaching what he truly believes out of a concern for the spiritual well-being of God's sons and daughters, but to one who is gay or has a gay loved one in their life, his remarks came across as ignorant, patronizing, and hard. I, myself, wasn't too surprised by his remarks, and I've already made my own peace with this issue. It's those young people out there that are struggling with homosexual feelings that I felt discouraged for. I think the talk gives people a false sense of hope that may cause a lot of grief for individuals in the church who are dealing with homosexual feelings. I also thought the talk was ill-timed, especially when there have been a rash of gay youth committing suicide. Anyway, I truly appreciate your thoughts and letting me know what you felt."

I truly believe that Boyd K. Packer is not a bad man, but regardless of the fact that he may be an Apostle and may be inspired, I think he comes from a place of ignorance as far as this subject is concerned. No matter how inspired he may or may not be, he is human and comes at life from his own experiences. If I were to give a talk claiming I understood what it's like to be black or to be a woman and claim that I fully understood the struggles or trials they have faced in their lifetimes, it would be disingenuous no matter how well-intentioned I was about it. I simply don't understand what it's like. I can't fully put myself in a black person's shoes or a woman's shoes because I've never experienced their lives. Likewise, no matter how much he is trying to "help" people who have homosexual feelings, his talk can come across negatively to those who are gay because he's coming from a place of ignorance as far as how we experience life.

That being said, accusations that Boyd K. Packer is coming from a place of hate just don't ring true to me. I sincerely believe, in his view, he is trying to help those struggling with same-sex attractions. Unfortunately, I think his talk (and talks like his) cause more damage than good to those who are dealing with homosexual feelings (or who have a loved one who is dealing with homosexual feelings), and that is what I take issue with.