When The Mormon Church Was Dead Wrong And Too Stubborn to See It

This past week I've experienced a roller coaster of emotions. My wife and I welcomed a baby boy into our family. This most peaceful and good news was followed two days later by the sad and troubling news that our collective Mormon family will now officially exclude many (one is too many) priceless souls from joining the collective church family. Though the gospel of Jesus Christ is radically inclusive, the LDS Church is anything but. Even if you want to hope that the news is okay, you have to admit that the optics of this are brutal. And I'm left with the same question as Arwen Taylor, who hit the nail on the head:

Here's what I want to ask everyone who defends the new anti-gay family policy: What can you imagine the church doing that you would absolutely not support? Can you imagine the church taking an action that would cause you to say, 'No, this violates my conscience, this goes too far, this is not done in love?' Because if not, then you don't get to make moral arguments in support of this; you've ceded your moral reasoning to someone else's authority.

At every single juncture in the past we've been demonstrably wrong about homosexuality. A few months ago I implied my personal belief that our church persists in being wrong about homosexuality in a carefully worded open letter to Elder Christofferson. (A counselor in my stake presidency expressed concern to me about suggesting the Brethren are "wrong", but that just sparked another blog post on how if we acknowledge they're fallible then we should probably stop pretending that they can't be wrong.)

To learn of the problematic handbook changes feels like a sucker punch straight out of Salt Lake. And to be clear, my sorrow lies with Salt Lake, not my local ward and stake. My local leaders have been most loving and kind as well as inclusive and sensitive as we've counseled together. My loving stake president even reached out to me personally Saturday morning because he knew this would cause me great concern (like his counselor, he too had read my open letter to Elder Christofferson and we'd previously spoken in person about some of my concerns.) The thing is I haven't been able to respond--I'm too stunned. I think I'm going to need time to step back and take a sabbatical. In the meantime I simply wish to restate unequivocally my conviction that ALL families, regardless of the sexuality of the parents, deserve to be strengthened. Are we collectively too stubborn to see the harm the Church is now doing to real families and children? Even more sad than the handbook changes is to see so many loved ones try and defend it or pass the blame to God.

I thought we were learning to be better. I'm afraid I was wrong. This much is now clear: a significant number of Mormons--including Mormon leaders--have failed to learn some critical lessons from our collective past. One couple, in writing to their stake president, wondered about how some of the saddest episodes of our past may have played out differently if only someone had spoken truth and reason to power: 

Perhaps if someone in the Parowan and Cedar City stakes had had the courage to voice their opinion to their stake presidents in those fateful secret meetings back in 1857, the Mountain Meadows Massacre could have been avoided. Or perhaps if others in the Willie and Martin handcart companies had joined their voices with Levi Savage who warned against the late travel (and was severely chastised for not having faith in his leaders), the resulting suffering and death could have been prevented. Perhaps if church leaders in Brigham Young’s day had stood up to the policy change he instituted that denied blacks the priesthood and temple blessings (and which the church now acknowledges was based on racist cultural attitudes of that age), our church could have avoided causing untold emotional and spiritual injury to thousands of black people – as well as to the white members who perpetuated harmful racist attitudes (even to this day) because of the false folk doctrines they were taught in an attempt to justify an increasingly unjustifiable policy.

I sometimes wonder who, if anyone, has the ear of the First Presidency. I wonder if they're simply surrounded by "yes men" or if any have expressed to them concern about these handbook changes. I'm particularly concerned that they're not listening to our LGBT brothers and sisters. Most people don't get the chance nowadays to have the ear of the First Presidency directly. The distance can give the impression that the First Presidency doesn't need the collective wisdom of the rank and file church membership--apparently we are to presume inspiration despite a lacunae of any compelling evidence.

Moreover, despite President Uchtdorf's frank admission that there have been times when church leaders have made mistakes, too often we've been too stubborn to learn from those mistakes to be better in the present. Apparently leaders are also too stubborn to apologize for past wrongs. Of all the wisdom in The Lion King, this may be the ultimate: “The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it.”

The Mormon Past Can Hurt (the Present too), But We Must Learn From It.

It is clear that many Mormons today still have much to learn from our past. I particularly have in mind The Stewart Udall Sequence--"a remarkable tale of conscientious dissent", which is filled with all kinds of customized lessons Latter-day Saints ought to be learning from today. Stewart Udall wasn't the only dissenting Mormon voice shamed for correctly following his conscience over the "authority" of church leaders. Readers of my blog may recall I once shared how brother Lowry Nelson had the ear of the First Presidency but they refused to allow themselves to question whether it was perhaps Nelson who was right while they were wrong. In fact history is filled with other Mormon voices who followed their conscience to dissent and have since been vindicated by history. But as a member of President John F. Kennedy's cabinet (Secretary of the Interior), Stewart Udall was likely the most prominent. I can't help but think about today's parallels and how Mormons who fail to remember the past are indeed condemned to repeat it.

It's already happening. On the one hand, there have been many Latter-day Saints who have responded with compassion and grace in the face of this weeks news. By far my favorite story comes from my friend Lon Young, who exemplified what it means to "mourn with those that mourn". On the other hand, this week I've heard/seen "Latter-day Saints" shame fellow Latter-day Saints for placing greater loyalty to following their own conscience over following LDS authorities. Though the nature of the issue is different, the behavior being exhibited and arguments being made today are almost exactly the same as those you can read in the saga of Stewart Udall (particularly parts 4 & 5), so without further ado, I present The Stewart Udall Sequence: a remarkable tale of conscientious dissent, written by a local friend of mine, Jonathan Streeter, here in San Antonio:

Part I: The Conscience of a Jack Mormon

Meet Stewart Udall and discover how he let his conscience guide his life. His deliberate decision to distance himself from the church is articulated in a note he wrote at the time. Those principles can be seen in his remarkable record of compassion.

Part II: Orthodoxy and Antipathy

When Secretary of Interior Stewart Udall took office, he received criticism about racist Mormon teachings. His exchange with the First Presidency reveals much about the perspective of Church leaders at the time.

Part III: The Letter

After seeing no change in church policy or teachings for years, Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall writes an open letter condemning the priesthood ban and racist teachings. It did not go unnoticed.

Part IV: Who's On The Lord's Side Who?

After writing his letter, Stewart Udall received numerous letters from faithful Latter-day Saints. What does the content of those letters tell us about the heart of Mormonism regarding race at that time? (Spoiler alert: We're seeing today some of the same messages of chastisement: "Don't criticize the leadership," "Don't embarrass the Church," "Get out of the Church," "You're too prideful," etc. from both members and leaders.)

Part V: The Apostles and the Primitive Church

In addition to letters from other members, Stewart received letters from two Apostles. Would they echo the sentiments of the many members who castigated the outspoken Udall or take a different tone?

Part VI: By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know

The exchange between Udall and those who wrote him reveal the fruit that Mormonism bore in race relations. By examining 4 remarkable individuals at key points in the history of segregation, we may compare fruit and discover the lesson of Stewart Udall.

“Religion is belief in someone else's experience. Spirituality is having your own experience."

Spotlighting a post from my friend, Lon Young: Put Away Our Telescopes? Not a Chance! The Heavens are Calling


From the cowardice that shrinks from new truth,
From the laziness that is content with half-truths,
From the arrogance that thinks it knows all truth,
Oh God of Truth, deliver us.
~ Ancient Prayer

IN 1633, THE ROMAN INQUISITION CHARGED Galileo Galilei with heresy. His crime? Entertaining the notion that the sun “does not move from east to west, and that the earth does move, and is not the center of the world,” and for espousing a theory deemed “false and contrary to the Holy and Divine Scripture.”

While Galileo didn’t invent the heliocentric model of the universe, he discovered plenty of evidence for it. His own powerful telescopes were showing him things never before encountered, and mathematical reasoning confirmed what others, like Copernicus, had been saying. To a rational mind, there was no denying the soundness of the astronomer’s conclusion, but it was an inconvenient truth, to say the least, in an age where burning heretics, not fossil fuels, contributed most to global warming.

To be fair, scientists and philosophers, not just the Church, opposed him. But it was the Church with the power to coerce and intimidate. As the sole mediator of rites essential to salvation, God’s priestly representatives could strip Galileo of his eternal salvation. What could man do more?

I can imagine Galileo’s family and friends pleading with him to stop studying the heavens. It’s dangerous, they must have said. Put away your telescope.

Inquisitive Latter-day Saints hear that, too. Why study the night sky when its constellations have already been named, catalogued, and described in our Church-approved manuals? Why look at the heavens when Deseret Book publishes thousands of titles on Astronomy? There’s no need to look for yourself. And it could be dangerous: You could lose faith in the truthfulness of the Star Map. Put away your telescope.

And yet, like Galileo, the urge to know the truth by our own experience, to understand what’s really out there, compels us to look for ourselves. So we look. And then we begin to understand why there was so much institutional hand-wringing over what we might find.

We’re discovering some stars in the night sky that don’t correspond to the official Star Maps we’ve been issued at Church. Certain constellations have been left off the official charts, and it appears that some stars have even been redrawn to suggest patterns that aren’t present in a clear reading of the starry sky. Not only that, but those who’ve traveled far and wide report that what we see printed on our Star Maps constitutes only one perspective, from a Northern line of latitude, and that skywatchers in the Southern Hemisphere see an entirely different set of stars. The discrepancies are not easily dismissed.

We are confused.

We hear leaders telling us not to trust our own eyesight, to doubt our faculties of reason. We hear apologists pat us on the head and explain that there’s really no contradiction between what we’re seeing in our telescopes and what’s on our official Star Maps. Then we go to Church and hear people bearing testimony of the Star Map. And we sing, Praise to the Cartographer. And what we hear most of all is that we shouldn’t be looking through our own telescopes in the first place, but instead should exercise faith that the Star Map is True.

That last point prompts me to ask: Should we have testimonies of the Star Map and its Cartographers? Or should we have direct encounters with the Heavens they attempt to describe? Isn’t it rather like going to a restaurant and worshipping the menu instead of savoring the food?

I’VE BEEN AIMING MY OWN TELESCOPE at the spectacular cosmos that is Mormonism, collapsing its distance, but until recently I’ve been reluctant to share an honest account of what I’ve seen. For one thing, I realize my view is filtered through a particular lens, shaped by my personal and cultural biases, faulty reasoning powers, and limited perception. For another, I haven’t wanted to force anyone to look through the telescope with me, believing it’s the prerogative of each person to decide if and when they look for themselves. But mostly, it’s fear that has kept me–and so many like me–from giving an honest report of our experience. We stand much to lose by admitting that we see things differently. We are branded as arrogant, faithless, deluded, disloyal, and dangerous.

I get it. I’ve been there myself. By discrediting a person, we don’t have to grapple with the questions he or she raises. And when our most crucial claim as an institution is that we’re right about everything, it’s simply not permissible to allow someone to suggest we may be wrong about anything. The community protects itself from the vulnerability of uncertainty by marginalizing anyone who doesn’t reinforce their sense of certainty. And if there’s one thing out of which we Mormons fashion a Golden Calf, it’s our personal and collective certainty.

Fortunately, astronomical charts can be redrawn to more closely reflect reality. At the institutional level, curriculum and resources are being re-written to acknowledge some of the more egregious discrepancies between our traditional narratives and more honest tellings. No doubt, this change comes as the Church is hoping to earn back the trust of those who have been far more more troubled by the lack of openness than they are by a clear reading of the stars. I applaud this forthrightness for its own sake, and am persuaded that whenever institutions resist transparency they will lose credibility with Millennials for whom unrestricted access to information is seen as a birthright.

Call me crazy, but I still find value in those Star Maps. They fire my spiritual imagination. They bestow a mythic power on our collective narrative. And the awe they’ve instilled in me over so many years has become the prime motivator for me to seek my own direct, unmediated experience with the Universe.

Put away our telescopes? Not a chance. The Heavens are calling!

 ~

"Renegade Acts of Radical Acceptance"

Lon Young is a former colleague of mine, but more importantly he has become dear friend. He began five years of service as a Mormon bishop in Utah right around the time my family and I moved to Texas. I'm grateful he started a blog because he's a very gifted writer with a giant and inclusive heart. When he has shared his thoughts, whether with me personally or publicly, I often find myself surprised at how like-minded we are, and I have been moved by his words on many occasions. Unlike him, however, I have no plans to move my family to India for a year to volunteer in a leprosy colony. The following words are excerpted from his post "Circles of Inclusion: A letter to my community from the leprosy colonies."

It was not the gods who did this–they did not command us to kick each other out of the church; they did not whisper that TRUTH was such a fragile thing it needed protection from IDEAS; they did not inspire us to pick up stones and hurl them at one another; they surely did not teach us that moral influence and power should be maintained by virtue of priesthood office, nor by exercising control, dominion, or compulsion, nor by contracting out the dirty work to modern-day hirelings, the PR Department.

Sadly, it seems to me that the hand of inclusion and acceptance we’d been extended by a few apostolic leaders seems to have been withdrawn. Now it’s all jabs and sucker-punches.

BUT I ALSO HEAR REPORTS OF KINDNESS, of inclusion, of individual ministries where institutional ones have failed. I rally when I hear these reports. They tell me that pockets of fresh air are possible where two or more are truly gathered in His name–a kind of rescue breathing where words of acceptance and inclusion resuscitate the dead and dying.

To those who have been excommunicated from the body of believers, whether formally (institutional punishment) or informally (social punishment), my heart aches for you. I’ve been working among the leprosy-affected here in India enough to witness how dehumanizing it is to be shunned, marginalized, even banished from a community. I’ve also come to understand the fear and ignorance lurking under the surface of such behavior. But you are not unclean for questioning injustice. You are not filthy for calling foul. You are not untouchable for challenging the status quo.

Every time someone, in fear, draws a circle that excludes you from the Mormon community, please know there are others of us drawing circles wide enough to take you in. And as your brothers and sisters, we will continue our commitment to inclusion, through renegade acts of radical acceptance, until we find ourselves—all of us–circumscribed into one great whole.

http://buddhainthebeehive.wordpress.com/2014/07/02/circles-of-inclusion-a-letter-to-my-community-from-the-leprosy-colonies/