I recently attended a Mormons Building Bridges Contemplative Retreat in Sundance, Utah. Attendees were asked to participate in introspective questioning and sharing about gender identity and sexual orientation in relation to LDS policy and Mormon theology. The retreat started in a large group of roughly 20 people, followed by breakout sessions of seven people, down to three people per group. Attendees included parents of LGBTQ kids, lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and allies. Religious and spiritual beliefs varied across a broad spectrum, but were all in some way familiar with Mormonism.
As the retreat began it became increasingly clear there is a serious
amount of conflicting emotions regarding queer Mormons and their place in various Mormon communities (for clarification, I’ll be referring to any member of the
LGBTQ community as “queer” for the remainder of the paper). However, what was
slightly surprising among the participants was the reaction straight allyship
had to the recent policy change to ban the children of practicing homosexuals
from baptism. Some were suffering to the same extent, or perhaps more, than actual members of the LGBTQ community. I particularly noticed the suffering of
the mothers of queer children.
In listening to the experiences and perspectives of these mothers it
seemed the reoccurring question was, “Where does my queer child fit in this
church and in the eternities?” This question is a source of angst that produced
a variety of emotions and responses—everything from anger to sorrow. Many feel
as though they are forced to choose their child or their church.
Obviously, this could cause turmoil to even the most devout disciple or
committed mother.
Imagine a Mormon female being raised in a religious tradition that
correlated her value with her ability to produce offspring and rear those
offspring toward exaltation. The plan
seems simple at first, until one of the offspring has identified as queer. This
is in direct opposition with current LDS policy, culture, and structure. The esthetics
of the “eternal family” have been prescribed according to not just the
biological limitations of sex, but also the social construct of gender. The
conflation of biological sex and socially constructed gender performances (which are two separate ideas) have produced a false sense of the “natural order”
without consideration to those who fall outside the prescribed “natural
order”—mainly non-heterosexuals and non-cisgender individuals. When a Mormon
mother, who was quite literally raised to breed children and fiercely rear them
into salvation, is confronted to choose between her pre-ordained calling of
motherhood and the religious institution that taught her this divine purpose, there will undoubtedly be conflict. However, the conflict is far deeper than a surface
level misunderstanding. This conflict calls into question the very nature of
her existence and purpose as a mother. How is she supposed to choose between
her child and her church?
The recent LDS policy change to the church handbook has been a catalyst
in the transformation of many Mormon parents, with reactions ranging from
confusion to outrage. The policy specifically states “apostasy refers to
members who are in a same-gender marriage.” This qualifies homosexuals,
specifically same-sex married couples, as apostates.
For a Mormon mother this means that if her child chose to enter into
a same-sex relationship with the hopes of marriage and an eternal family, they
will automatically be rejected as apostates. They would not qualify for the
blessings of eternal marriage or an eternal family, which is central to the
theological, governmental, and cultural teachings of the LDS Church. If a
Mormon mother’s existence and purpose is to breed eternal families, her child’s
orientation is not just a problem, but is sometimes treated as a disease that
needs to be eradicated before admittance into any sort of exaltation.
At the retreat I listened to the painful struggles of what a Mormon
mother of a queer child is experiencing; I listened to their stories. I watched
them cry as some described suicide attempts, self-mutilation, self-loathing,
and substance abuse of their children. Many of them, for the first time ever,
are finding themselves in a place of theological uncertainty. They were not
prepared, nor equipped to address the conflict that has now caused them to
question the very foundation of their existence.
Despite the harrowing stories, I also saw hope. Observing the
interaction between the queer participants and the mothers of queer children
was encouraging and inspiring. Amid the sorrow and frustrations there was also
consolation and hope that perhaps one day their children could find a place of
belonging. Many people embraced one another and dried each other’s tears with
empathy and concern. While this is hardly an excuse for the jarring conflict
between their church and their child, I see many people seeking reconciliatory
ways of moving forward.
For example, some of the attendees participate in groups such as
Understanding Same-Gender Attraction (USGA) at BYU. USGA “is an unofficial group
of Brigham Young University students, faculty and guests who wish to strengthen
families and the BYU community by providing a place for open, respectful
discussion on the topic of same-gender attraction and LGBTQ issues.” Though
change is slow, the conversation is happening in ways it never has before. More
opportunities are becoming widely available in an effort to help those in the
LGBTQ community and their loved ones.
Medical reports, psychological research, and social pressures have
changed attitudes toward such harmful practices as conversion therapy. While
homosexuality isn’t condoned in LDS policy, I am observing a slow and steady
change in attitudes and misconceptions.
As I left the retreat we hugged each other goodbye. Many exchanged contact information in hopes of being a source of support during times of turbulence. It was both humbling and inspiring to engage in such a wonderful, thoughtful experience. For anyone looking for introspection, contemplation, reconciliation, and friendship, I highly recommend the experience.
*Published at Rational Faiths on Tuesday, February 20, 2017
As I left the retreat we hugged each other goodbye. Many exchanged contact information in hopes of being a source of support during times of turbulence. It was both humbling and inspiring to engage in such a wonderful, thoughtful experience. For anyone looking for introspection, contemplation, reconciliation, and friendship, I highly recommend the experience.
*Published at Rational Faiths on Tuesday, February 20, 2017
