Celestial Confusion...

Yesterday I went to church. It was like any other time, insulated from Priesthood, callings, and other responsibilities of "spiritual ministering." I was content, I had drawn a line around the source of my shame, and spoke (as much as I could) truth to power - even if it was my truth. Doing so allowed me to endure, tolerate, abide, and eventually enjoy church again. In church, but out of reach of "spiritual" ministering. It was a good deal, as I still have a copy of letter of resignation on my desktop and still make a deal with God to take it one month at a time. Yet that changed yesterday.

I was asked to go to the Stake President's Office. All I could think of was, "this is it, here comes the official invitation for disciplinary measures.:" I walked in the office and was given a calling - I was asked to serve in the Stake Sunday School Presidency. I was shocked. I reviewed my past, "You know I'm a recovering sex addict? You know I'm dating, right?" And the response was simply "yes, we know." "We" here was the Stake President, the Institute Director (who is on the High Council in my stake), my current Bishop, and my former Bishop (who is also on the High Council). I was then told, "I've learned to not question inspiration. I received a very clear impression that you are to do this, I've learned not to question God's wisdom."

I sat there dumbfounded on multiple levels. In that moment, all I could think about was how clever a ploy this was. But at the same time, I could not deny this strange arrangement. There were no conditions for me receiving this calling, no "gentlemen's agreement," just simply saying yes and doing. I knew what saying could mean, I knew what saying no could mean. I took a deep breathe and a gulp and said, "Sure, whatever."

Obviously, this is sending off all sorts of "worthiness" meters. Yet, for the first time, it really has nothing to do with the shame of pleasing priesthood leaders or the church. Rather, this "worthiness" meter is going off because of my relationship with God. Being a sex addict is tiresome, I do not want to be anymore. And I look at this "calling" I can't help but think that it is an intervention of sorts.

Last night I had a long conversation with Heavenly Father about this. I talked to Him about how tender my feelings were for A - he texted me today, we have scheduled date six. I talked with Him about the meaning of this calling for my life. There was no clear resolution to the two, but simply a calming presence that indicated His love and understanding for my situation. Again, what was emphasized was the fact that He understands better than I do why I do the things I do. And while He seemed ambivalent about A, He did not say "no." At this point, I'm thoroughly confused.

I texted a fellow gay Mormon and he invited me over immediately, telling me I needed a stiff drink. I left church a little early to visit with my friend and his partner. I had a diet coke while they sipped on whiskey and vodka. They sympathized with me and simply told me that they would love me no matter what I chose to do. But I was glad to have good friends to listen. Though he did whack me on the back of the head and said whimsically  "Why are you still going to Church? I told you what they do....that Mormon love is tricksy."

I cautiously approach this calling, surprised that I even said yes, and surprised still that somehow God is not asking me to choose between A and this calling. I think this is perhaps the most confusing part - rather it's not A it's finding a person to love that God is not averse to. Regardless, I confused. Can't you tell?

Heavenly Dating Advice?

I've found a degree of peace. It's odd that the peace I feel comes places outside the reach of the church. I've realized that I love the Church and hold its doctrines close to my heart; and perhaps at some future day when I've been able to see beyond myself, I'll see the truth of all things. But at this point, my relationship with the Church is a constant negotiation.

My ward has a new Bishop, within a week of his "installation" he tried to "call" me to do something for the ward. This, of course, required a conversation. It was surprisingly easy for me to say no and to draw lines in the sand with him and other official representatives from the Church. I simply told them, I will continue to come to Church, will help strengthen the community, but I do not want (at this time in my life) contact from the Bishop, the Elder's Quorum President, Home Teachers, and so forth. I stated, "if they want to come as a friend, I will gladly welcome them into my home, but if they are representatives, I will not see them."

As I have been practicing placing boundaries around "Priesthood" my life has become easier. I enjoy Church again. I enjoy being a part of that cultural and religious community. I am thankful for my therapist in helping me set boundaries with the "priesthood." It was and is the source of my shame. To take a step away from it, my life gets better.

Dating is difficult. I've taken to talking to God about my dating life and have been quite plain and honest with Him about the men I've gone out with. My sense is that God simply wants me to be happy, He recognizes the difficulty of Church doctrine, but doesn't condemn me for what I'm doing. I think God cares about my dating, I feel He actually cares that I find someone to love, even if it is a man. What that means in the grand theology? I don't know.

I've met a very good and decent man. I'll call him A. A and I have been on five dates and planning date six soon. He is around my age, and is simply soothing to talk to and be around. We have taken things very slow; which is good for me. As a result, my addiction (or the need to use sex to self-medicate emotions) has been addressed squarely: I'm gaining traction with sobriety. My therapist says this is because I've been able to build healthy intimacy with another man. And so it is, A is remarkable. I'm not sure what the future holds, as it is moving at a snails pace, but that is good. Each date we have dinner and talk and walk after for hours. Each encounter I find I yearn for more time with him.

We finally were able to hug each other after date five. We both were too nervous in previous dates. Date four we botched the hug and simply smiled at each other and walked away. Soon after he sent me message apologizing for the botch hug.

As I reflect on this, this intimacy is what I must deny to comply with the doctrines of the Church. In the hopes that one day in the life hereafter, I will be able to experience this with a woman, and not A. But I continue with Church because it is good. I desire goodness. I desire love. I desire happiness. I desire peace. Does the Church have the monopoly over these things? I'm not sure, but I think and am certain God does.

I still talk with Him regularly. He still loves me. And I'm convinced more than ever that He understands why I continue dating A, despite my certain knowledge that His doctrines are eternal, better than I do. And there is a measure of peace and comfort in that. There is love and happiness meted out in that understanding.

Have I reconciled? I don't know. But am I at peace? Relative to last year at this time? Absolutely!

"You're not happy"

Yesterday I had a discussion with a person I barely know. He calls himself a valiant struggler of SSA. As I talked with him he asked about my life and my relationship with God, the Church, and with myself. I told him I was happy with my relationships with each. A quietness settled on the conversation, and with sadness in his eyes he looked at me and said, "You're not happy, you've just deluded yourself into thinking you are. What you're experiencing will not last!"

Of course I was startled, but not surprised. This person does not know my struggles, does not know the peace I have now, and the choices - the fully examined choices, I've made. I smiled at him and simply said, "For now, I am at peace with myself, with God, and the church. I know God knows better than I do why I do and choose to do the things I do. There is great comfort in knowing I have his unqualified love. Though I also know his love is not to be confused with His condoning what I do. But He's God and I trust He knows better than me and you and the Prophet in how to relate to me and show me love."

And for me that is true and I'm happy.

Thankful for Dark Paths

"...[A]nd they did press forward through the mist of darkness, clinging to the rod of iron, even until they did come forth and partake of the fruit of the tree." (1 Nephi 8:24)

I am queer in many ways. I always knew I was queer, even before I came out, I was intellectually, politically,  culturally, and socially queer. That is, in a word, different. I was different from the norm. I found problems with, and continue to find problematic, the racial, classist, sexist orders that shape behavior and thought patterns in the church and in society. Until recently, I've embraced openly my sexual minority identity, as well.

Recently, I've had trouble identifying as a "gay" man. There is certainly truth in what Elder Oaks and Holland have noted about identity. Yet, I think the identity of "gay" is far too circumspect for me. It suggests a limitation and retreats solely to my sexuality. Yet, queer openly acknowledges the many ways I am different, "odd" as it were, from society. It is inclusive of my erotic desires, but also recognizes my intellectual leanings, but more importantly, it also is inclusive enough that there is room to continue struggling with cognitive dissonance. That struggle is one I may never be over, but being queer suggests I don't have to, however, the more myopic term "gay" may implicitly suggest that I struggle no more with the Laws of God and my erotic, emotional desires.

I am queer, and the dark paths of life have shown that to me. In the darkness, I found myself. In the dark it was just me, only me. The expectations of others were no longer visible, the social pressure was dimmed, my own thoughts were darkened and opaque, my self-perception was obviated and invisible. In the dark, it was only me and my God, unfettered by the distractions of the world, by the cultural and social pressures of the church and its communities, unspoiled by my own periods of self-loathing. In the dark, I experienced God, because, in the dark, I had to trust He was there. I had to trust more than that. I had to trust that He loved me more than I could fathom. It was and continues to be in those moments, that I feel His presence and His love.

I find His love expressed to me in the form of my friends who are gay, who treat me with respect, love, kindness and do not judge me. Then I enter the toxic online communities of Northstar or others and find judgements of others who "give in," unhealthy doses of shaming meted out, unhealthy social and cultural pressures to live to cultural standards (as if those standards were synonymous with eternal standards). In other online communities, unhealthy shaming of individuals with faith, I find individuals attempting to reconstruct and reproduce systems of oppression for queer people of color, I find exclusionary tactics, all under the name of "love." Certainly this is not where I find God.

I am thankful for dark places.

The reach to Normalcy

There are a few givens in my life:

1 - I'll never marry a woman (well, I suppose I could if I could transcend to a different level of love like Josh Weed...but, um....yeah).

2 - The Church will not ever change its position (and this is not even a point of contention for me).

3 - God the Father is real and He lives and is as Joseph Smith described (this has major implications).

4 - I am physically attracted to men.

With these givens, the associated cognitive dissonance, I'm attempting to carve a place in the margins, a place that acknowledges my failure to live up to the norms of the church, but also a place that celebrates my failure and allows me to articulate a new vision of "normal."

I had breakfast with a friend a few days ago, she's a stellar and well known Mormon scholar, as we collaborated about a project on Decolonizing Mormonism and collecting essays from Mormon scholars of color from the global south and from the margins of the north, we talked about the meaning of activity in the church. What it came down was a lot of hand waving and "details," the idea here was, it is not for leadership or others to judge my relationship to God and to Mormonism; rather that is for me to self-identify. I felt edified after this visit.

Second, a friend of mine, who I adore, honor, and look up to as a shining example of faith, courage and righteousness (defined as rightness with God), stay over with me Saturday night. Sunday morning, he told me his story. He is having a child with a woman he barely met. I've sat in Institute with this man. What was striking was two things: 1) my notion of "normal" in the church was disrupted, and 2) I was not disappointed, but rather my love for him deepened in a meaningful way.

I saw my friend as this stellar example of faith, I projected on to him, all the elements of righteousness and even tried to imitate his life in hopes of gaining proximity to heaven. But his story was different from the template of righteousness I had been using to judge, assess, and love this man: my notion of normal. Yet, his story disrupted that. As a result of his honesty and intimacy and his courage, I found myself loving him more deeply. I told him before I dropped him off that I love him as I do my own brother!

Experiences of this sort enable me to see that there may be notions of success in Mormonism yet to be articulated within the givens I outlines above and that is hopeful.

Resetting Sobriety

Slipping with my sobriety is always hard. Last night, I succumbed. There was a 20 year-old kid who has been stopping by my office for a while. He apparently was a friend of one of my students. We chatted briefly after one class (as he met his friend after class was over and while I was erasing the board), in part, because we had a friend in common. He approached me and, "You're so and so, right?" I acknowledged that I was "so and so." He then asked, "Do you know A?"  I said yes.

We chatted for a few moments and then I left back to my office. A few weeks ago I ran into him in the gym. He asked about A. I told him what I knew. Afterward we had lunch together and chatted a bit about his work and A. He then asked if we could have coffee. I told him I don't drink coffee. A few days later he showed up at my office, I talked with him and he asked me if I could help him with a paper he was writing, and so I did. After that he started stopping by. Last night he came by my office, just as I was leaving. He asked me if we could grab dinner, I acquiesced.

He then said he had a big paper that he needed help with, I told him I couldn't help and that I was on my way home. He asked if he could drop by my home and get some help at home. At this point I knew what he was trying to do. I denied his request and hopped on the bus. After getting home, I received a text message, he was "freaking out," and asked for help. I tried the best I could over texting, but it was fruitless. By this time, my addictive patterns and pathways were well lit. I eventually invited him over. He came over and we sat on my couch for three hours working on his paper. After it was complete, he closed his computer. I was about to get up to show him the door, he put his hand on my thigh and pushed me back to a seated position. That was the end. I showed him the door three hours later. At the door, with my head hanging low from what I just did, he ran to me gave me a hug and grabbed my head and gave me kiss. He then picked up his bag and walked out the door.

As I reflected on this incident and how I have lost my sobriety, I realized that my life is stressful. Questions of the church remain, frustration and uncertainty around my dissertation remain, and funding for my graduate education remains tenuous. But I paused today and met with the Institute director. It was  a pleasant feeling to access the Spirit and speak with a god-fearing man of faith. I took solace and comfort in that visit. I'm not sure how to process what happened with the kid, but I move forward.

Arrogance

Last night, I went out with an acquaintance - gay former Mormon - I ended up at a bar in the gayborhood. As I sat sipping diet coke, I listened to this acquaintance tell me of all his hookups with guys from scoutcamp, to priest's overnighters, to his midnight liaisons at BYU, there no compunction in the slightest for what he engaged in.

He continued then to tell me how he had dropped out of school and ended up starting a tech firm that he boasts is worth some $20M. But it was here that he was stuck. Sex and money was the extent of this man's life. It was the source of his appeal for all the men (most of them younger 20 or under) that he hooked up with.  I tried to prod, searching for some dimension, some depth to this man. I failed, at least last night. I want to believe that people derive a sense of their lives and purpose from more than sex and money.

I suppose what as most off-putting about the entire night was not the fact that he was having raunchy, kinky anonymous sex (of which he showed me pictures and videos and to which I covered my eyes), but it was the  arrogance, the self-absorption, the self-centeredness of the man. He boasted of his contacts - meeting Bill Gates, meeting the Secretary's of State and Education, CEOs of large tech firms, etc - and boasting of his wealth, and his ability to make a success. Yet there was a certain sadness in his story, despite all the "things" he accumulated, he said to me plainly, "I want a boyfriend." I simply nodded.

As a confirmed Marxist, I'm rather tame when I meet pro-capitalists individuals, but this one was different. An hour into our "drink" his friend showed up. This kid was a punk! Arrogant asshole. The top of his class as undergrad and a whiz at computer programming. He couldn't help but tell me that he makes $58 an hour and he's only 22. To which my friend responded, in a pissing contest manner, "I bill out at $550 an hour." They both proceeded then to belittle people the bar, calling larger women "whales" and so forth. I was thoroughly disgusted.

I signaled to my acquaintance that I had to leave, he was sad that I was leaving. I think his sadness stemmed, in part from both of them thinking they were better than me and that I amounted to nothing more than a hill of beans to them. I didn't tell them what I did, nor did they ever ask. I simply sat back and allowed both of them to assume that I am under-educated, under-employed brown man.

I left the bar disgusted, and realized that my life could always be far worse. Certainly I'm happy and I don't need alcohol, money or even sex to experience happiness and contentment. The truth that "wickedness never was happiness" rang true to me last night. But let me qualify, to me complete self-conceited living is pure wickedness - attempts to break free from that self-conceited lifestyle is the essence of the gospel. I hope I'm not self-conceited.