Parachute
I found myself wondering
how best to thank you
for picking up
for dropping out
for pulling it out of me
for playlists and secret notebooks
of words you pluck as if from strings
in the sky
chords you strike and covers you lift
for risking failure
in the name of truth
knowing truth wears many faces
for going the distance
for closing the gap
for a downpour of laughter
just when I thought the sky
would surely collapse
under its own weight
for running towards
and not away from
for saying yes
that aches
but tell me
tell me anyway
tell me everything
for slow hands and fast cars
for finding me
after I found myself
not a moment too soon or too late
or too anything
for meeting me here
in this tumbling empty space
and tolerating my free fall
They say the bad news is that we’re falling
and the good news is that there’s no ground
I say the good news is we’re falling
and this may be something
we do alone
but this is not something
we do alone
I could long for a landing
or dread the crash
or I could simply say thank you
pull the string
let the winds carry me
where they will
traverse the wide-open spaces of knowing
and not-knowing
of yes
and of if
and of when
and of how
all the while
keeping my eyes peeled
for a hand on the horizon
I can take in mine
before finally
drifting
down
While transitioning does involve the loss of certain relationships, I have been struck by the quality of the relationships that remain. The process of being honest with ourselves and those around us can be disheartening and clarifying. While it may take time to find and cultivate relationships that truly reflect us, it can be done. Do not lose heart if you feel alone. Give it time. You are worthy of good love. I am grateful for those in my life–who have reached out their hands to take mine–in the most uncertain of times.
Who are you grateful for? How have they offered “a hand on the horizon” to you?
Normally, my interest in anything LDS is on par with watching paint dry, so when I heard about the latest kerfuffle from “The Corporation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints” (The Corp) my expectation was on par with past experiences. The bar was low. (Key to happiness btw, can be found in keeping expectations in check, but that’s another story for another day.)
But here’s the thing. I was wrong, and I’m actually quite pleased to be. Contrary to all the negative reactions to The Corp’s change in policy toward the children of LGBT families, this should be viewed with optimism, and here’s my reasoning for it.
My starting position, for those who are unfamiliar with me and my past arguments, is that religion is a pernicious meme, and more poignant and personally, The Corp is an institution that needs to be eroded from civilization. I am anti-theist. It’s not that I think there isn’t a supernatural deity (for the record, I do, and we should all stand in honor of his noodlyness), it’s that the physical manifestations of religion are empirically worse than a humanist-based civilization. (I can defend that position as well, but again, that’s not the point here).
So when The Corp announces that they would like to estrange and exclude certain people from their organization, especially those who are most vulnerable to, and let’s just call a spade a spade here, delusional ideologies and clinical indoctrination, I shout (3 times because I’m irreverent like that) hallelujah.
Moreover, when I read the transcript from Mr. Christofferson, that the change in policy “…originates from a desire to protect children in their innocence and in their minority years.” I nod in solemn agreement. We should hail this policy as a victory, and encourage The Corp to continue with the logical extension to not allow any children membership based on the same underlying concern for their protection. We don’t let 8 year-olds vote for the lowest of civic offices, why would we think they have the acumen to figure out if the FSM is real and Elohim is not?
Personally, as one who has dear friends and family who prefer alternative, victimless, none-of-my-business lifestyles, can I offer my opinion of how to respond? It’s not you, its them. They don’t want you in their fantasy world, and you know what, there are better, reality-based ideas and organizations with whom to spend your time and energy, and where the return on your efforts will be rewarded in spades.
To the children, including two of my own, who have been, or are now denied access free from The Corp, now is the time to truly count your blessings. You are now spared the time of having to collect fast offerings, attend PEC meetings (do they even have those anymore?), go on awkward home teaching visits, and the greatest retention tool The Corp has ever devised… A mission. Take back your Sundays, invest your 10% in your college savings plan, get your homework done or play Minecraft for a few extra hours (but only after your homework is done).
To those members with whom this issue has generated internal conflict sufficient to spur you to resign from The Corp, we congratulate you on joining a winning team, where you can always believe the best ideas for the best reasons. Religion and Science are in a zero-sum conflict, and science has an overwhelming lead, enjoy basking in further light and knowledge.
The Corp has done the best thing for our friends and family. Sure there is going to be some heartache, pain, travail and sorrow. But life is kinda like that, and anyone who tells you otherwise is probably selling something.
We here at Mormon Transitions are dedicated to helping people through the transition process, and that includes away from orthodoxy and toward a more progressive form of their faith, not just in thought, but in action also. This week’s news has rocked so many Mormons to their core. A church leader made it clear Mormons can think whatever they want, but they cannot act on those beliefs though advocating for all marriages. As a psychologist, I want to go on record to say that telling people their thoughts and actions can’t align is a harmful position, and we’ve heard it before and how harmful it already is for gay Mormons to a much higher degree of toxicity: that you can have gay thoughts, but if you act on them you face discipline. Mental health suffers when we don’t allow our beliefs and inner voice to mirror what we say/do: our actions, how we present ourselves to the world. Peace comes from aligning our inner voice with our behavior. It’s freeing, it’s beautiful, it’s the authentic life. And so many gay Mormons have been negotiating that balance for decades—it’s time to listen to them (they’ve been doing it longer than many of us have), ask what they need, and be there for them in this time of immense pain.
I’d be a horrible therapist if I told people what to do. As I’ve said multiple times in multiple forums, only you know what’s best for you as you transition. That said, I’ve put together a list of possible things that I have already seen done and proposed by the fearless among us, as a springboard for deciding what you want to do. If you’re feeling you want to advocate anyway and promote healing and growth beyond the guise of orthodoxy, here are some options, a few of endless possibilities:
- Make personal contact with gay members and former members you know to express love and support, either by text, email, a phone call. Ask how they are doing, and if they want to talk, you’re here, but no pressure. Maybe send them flowers and/or cookies/meals (as our cultural tradition taught us to do for the grieving).
- State publicly on social media your disagreement with the policy and inviting anyone who is similarly in pain to reach out to you because you will be a safe space for them and just listen.
- Wear a rainbow ribbon or ally button to church, large and in the open
- Speak up when anyone says anything to rationalize the new policy at church
- Volunteer for your local suicide crisis line, anyone can do it, just find out where the nearest one to you is. Especially relevant if you live in Utah or the intermountain west, but regardless, this is important work.
- Post on your ward or Relief Society facebook page how you are a safe space for anyone hurting from the new policy and offering to help in any way they need, even going so far as to say (if you are ready) that you don’t see this policy as Christlike in any way shape or form.
- If you have gay friends and relatives, be willing to have a vulnerable talk about how your support of the institution makes them feel, and even be ready to make changes based on what they say to you. One example: they may be hurt that you are financially contributing to an institution that discriminates against them and their children. I had a client for whom their family’s attendance/activity in the church didn’t bother them as they respected where they stood and their need for community, but the financial institutional support troubled them. In this case, the family (who was also struggling with perceived pressure to pay tithing on gross and wanted confidentiality anyway so that the sums remained between them and God and what they felt was right given all circumstances) decided to do tithing in an unorthodox way from then on. I’ve even heard of some who stopped paying altogether and contributed instead to the poor/needy locally and other charities with open disclosure of where funds go. That was more authentic for them.
- Volunteer for and/or donate to shelters for gay youth kicked out of their homes, and/or safe community spaces and programs for LGB youth, and/or Affirmation.
- Bear your testimony on fast sunday, at some point state your sadness over the un-Christlike policy and an invitation for anyone else who is hurting that you are an ally/safe space, they can come to you anytime.
- Stop going to church if it is emotionally wounding. Write a letter or speak to your bishop or SP saying you’ll gladly come back when the policy changes. Take the opportunity to encourage them to reach out immediately to any members or families in crisis over this.
- Organize groups or potlucks at your home inviting people to process their grief/pain over the issue and come together in solidarity in person.
- State publicly on social media or reach out to individuals you know who this is relevant to and offer to help in any way for an at-home naming and blessing ceremony of any child. You could offer your home, make refreshments, even participate in the blessing if they wish
- If you are a bishop or Stake President and you disagree with the policy, you can either refuse to convene disciplinary councils, or convene them (since it says “mandatory”) but make it clear to the individual you will not find them guilty of apostasy and you will take no action.
- Avail yourself of the law of common consent in stake conference next time by raising your hand in a dissenting vote. It won’t reach leaders in SLC, but hundreds of people around you will see where you stand and possibly reach out to you, and know they’re not alone.
- Not baptizing your children if you’re heterosexual until after they’re 18 as a show of solidarity
- Publicly share stories of invididuals and families affected by this policy on social media.
- Ask to be released from a calling that includes implementing or condoning this policy. Sadly, this would include many callings in Primary, YM, YW, in addition to leadership.
- Call Church Headquarters voicing your dissent, respectfully but powerfully. It won’t reach the Brethren, but whoever is on the other line at the time will at least hear an alternative opinion.
- Attend Affirmation vigils and events and promote them on social media, march in pride parades if you haven’t yet
To my Mormon family and friends:
What I express here does not in the least diminish my love and respect for you. There is so much kindness and goodness in the LDS community. In no way do I wish to speak against that or diminish all the big and small ways that I and others have benefited from being part of the Mormon church. I believe hearing each other’s stories is the best way to open and heal hearts. I hope you can extend love and charity to me as I share some of my story.
“When we deny our stories, they define us. When we own our stories, we get to write a brave new ending.” -Brené Brown
On November 5th, the Church confirmed it had updated its policies in regards to same-sex couples and their children. Specifically that children of same-sex couples will not be able to get baptized until they turn 18, move out of their parents’ homes, disavow all same-sex relationships and receive approval from the First Presidency. I, like many others, was shocked that the leaders of the Church would choose to put children in this position.
I respect those who believe in the Church. I respect the good that can come from being part of the LDS community. Tragically, this policy will make it harder for many to receive those blessings. I am deeply sad for the pain it is causing, not just for LGBTQ members and their children, but for all of us who take seriously the covenant to “mourn with those who mourn”. Oh, that we all took this covenant more seriously. What if every member of the Church took the time to seek out the stories of those who are hurting, opened their hearts, and listened?
My own story changed nine years ago. I was preparing to get married. My future husband had been previously married in the temple and divorced, but per LDS sealing practices was still sealed to his first wife. In order to marry me in the temple, he had to appeal to the First Presidency for permission. This process involved months of letters and meetings with our bishops and stake presidents. It was an emotional and stressful process to say the least. When the sealing clearance was denied without explanation, we were absolutely devastated. The decision did not make sense and did not feel divine. How could the Prophet of God deny me saving ordinances just because my fiancé was divorced? The God I believed should know our hearts. I came to the conclusion that this decision was merely bureaucratic. That it was not inspired of God. I didn’t understand why, but I tried to have faith that I would one day. Although we were able to be sealed a year later, this experience caused a deep crack in my testimony.
For the first time in my very privileged life, I experienced the pain of being “other”.
When I became a mother, my inner feminist awoke. When I turned that new lens on the church that I loved, I was gravely disappointed to see all the ways that it fell short of equality. This led to a year of intense study and prayer as I tried to find a way to reconcile the community that had always felt like home, with a realization that I no longer believed in its basic tenets. I eventually could not participate because it was too painful. And despite all the good that still existed, knowing what I now knew, I could not raise my children in a tradition that taught doctrines and ideas that I so deeply disagreed with.
In an even more profound way, I was “other”, having woken up to the fact that as a woman, I always had been in the eyes of the Church.
These experiences of “otherness”, of being outside the ideal Mormon box, gave me a deep sense of empathy for anyone who doesn’t fit the mold in their community. My heart and mind opened to the thousands of stories of marginalization and abuse that happen in the Mormon community. I have been lucky in so many ways. I come from a place of immense privilege. But I can listen to someone’s story and let it pierce my heart and change me. And that is what I have striven to do, even though I have lost friends in the process.
My experiences may pale in comparison to the deep hurt and pain that my LGBTQ brothers and sisters have faced and continue to face, but I am so grateful for the empathy I do have. If you feel like an “other” in your community, please know that you are not alone. You are seen and loved by many. I see you. I love you.
As the great Mary Oliver says in her poem Wild Geese:
“You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.”
Meanwhile, the world goes on — with all its beauty and tragedy, suffering and goodness. Come, let us find our place in the family of things together.
Katrina Barker Anderson is a mother, nature lover, photographer, former new producer, and marketing professional. She has a BA in Communications from Brigham Young University. A lifelong member of the church, she was active until 4 years ago. Since then she has been involved in progressive Mormon community building and activism, most notably with her photography project Mormon Women Bare (mormonwomenbare.com). She currently lives in Salt Lake City, UT with her husband and children.