Part 1
There has been an increased focus on listening to understand
those on the fringes of society, who are on the fringes of church activity or
who are different from cultural “norms.”
My better self does not wish to take away from that spirit. But what about those who seemingly have it
all together? Perhaps those who struggle
with a societal issue that doesn’t necessarily get sparked by something said by
church leaders?
In an effort to jump to my main point and how I feel…I’ll
illustrate something I’ve noticed sometimes.
It’s somewhat unique and hard to describe, but I’ll try.
An LGBT loved one or prominent LGBT
example figure leaves the Church and/or lives contrary to its teachings.
Gay Latter-day Saint runs to LGBT
community of support: “Hey guys, I’m struggling with this. I have a variety of feelings I’d like to
share…”
LGBT community of support: “Stop
judging him!” “His actions have nothing to do with you!” “You should feel happy that they’re happy!” “Get
over yourself.”
The gay Latter-day Saint comes away
feeling invalidated, empty and perhaps even worse than before.
I don’t mean to make a hasty generalization. It’s actually only a few people who might say
such things. But the words of a few can
do a lot of damage. Even saying things
like, “Your faith should be in Jesus Christ, not other people,” can be
invalidating. Even if we have faith that
God knows best and will take care of everything and that we still love and
respect those who pursue various life paths…those initial feelings and emotions
are just going to come (I’ll share a quote about this in “part 2”).
What has been the most helpful for me is, “I hear you. I can understand how you’d feel that way…it
makes sense. Thanks for sharing how you
feel about this.” It’s just a matter of
listening…without trying fix anything, without trying to compare to someone who
has it harder, without assuming anything.
It’s being in the “here and now” with the one who is sharing their
feelings.
Part 2
Earlier this month (August), my friend and fellow baritone
in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Eric Huntsman, gave a devotional talk at
Brigham Young University. The entire
talk can be found here. In it, he shared
the following from Sarah Elizabeth Rowntree (this is the quote I’m referring to
in Part 1):
“Remember
Christ has no human body now upon the earth but yours; no hands but yours; no
feet but yours. Yours, my brothers and
sisters, are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion has to look upon the
world, and yours are the lips with which His love has to speak.”
In essence, we are His hands. He has the ability to comfort us when we cry
out to Him on our own, and sometimes He does.
But other times, His ministry comes from the people He places in our
lives.
Brother Huntsman shared about the time when the Choir did an
exchange with the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus while we were on tour in
June. He shared a little bit of my
perspective on that event, and I’ll like to share a little bit more. I watched as these men were warmly welcomed
into the stands to sing with us. I
watched the visiting member of the Quorum of the Seventy as he and the choir
leadership greeted many of them with a hug.
I don’t want to undermine this fact: it
was the most spiritual experience for many on tour!
Yet I had a complicate mix of feelings well up in me: some
jealousy, some bitterness, some sadness, yet also joy for the opportunity I had
to sing next to these brothers. I wasn’t
prepared for all of it. Here we were
participating in a bridge building experience, yet I felt somewhat
eclipsed. In fact I often feel this way
when there is a movement that brings the Latter-day Saint and LGBT communities
together. I sometimes call it a “Brother
of the Prodigal Son” complex. What about
us who have been here the whole time?
When do we get our happy ending?
I tried to invalidate my own feelings first, by saying, “Oh
Alex, it’s not about you, this is about them.”
“You’re here to serve them…stop being so selfish.” “You’re gay, they’re
gay…this should be a proud, freeing moment for you.” But the feelings in my heart were going to
win…and for a minute there, I felt so alone.
Nevertheless, I had a few people, like Eric, who sat with me
to listen to how I was feeling. They
were earnestly concerned about my feelings regardless of how they felt about
the exchange. I had the opportunity to
open up and “come out” more fully to others about what I face as an individual
in my unique circumstances. Although the
experience was difficult, I learned and grew from it in many
ways. But the point is that I had people
who listened, without judgment, without telling me how I “should” feel and
without trying to rush to fix the situation.
For that moment, the “fixing” was just listening.
So, what I’m learning is that we’re going to feel what we
feel. Feelings are valid. Feelings need to be heard, even if it’s just
between us and God. I’m not saying that
we have to share everything with everyone. Not everyone has earned the right to listen to
the inner-workings of my heart and testimony. I didn’t share ALL of my San Francisco
experience. There are still things that
are too personal to share in a blog post.
We know there are those who may have been ostracized by
family, church or society at large. They
have feelings that need to be heard, yes.
But perhaps that can be extended to all of us.
