Separation of Church and State II: Necessary for the Protection of Both - by Derek Staffanson

Religious conservatives contemporary to Jefferson and Madison assaulted the newborn Constitution as Godless, and persistently accused the two politicians of being atheists throughout their careers. To these religious conservatives a “wall of separation” between the Church and State was nothing less than a scheme to undermine religion. They could hardly have been more wrong. While not conventionally religious, the letters and works of the two men reveal them to be profoundly spiritual people. Like modern religious conservatives who level similar charges against entities such as the ACLU, People for the American Way, and Americans United for the Separation of Church and State, those religious conservatives manifested a remarkable inability to grasp the difference between advocating liberty in religious matters and attempting to extinguish religion. And like their modern counterparts, they failed to understand that strict separation between state and religion is actually essential for keeping the flames of religion burning.

Within the text of Jefferson’s Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom and Madison’s Memorial and Remonstrance against Religious Assessments, these thinkers were very insistent upon that point. They would have been rather skeptical of Mitt Romney’s claim that “Freedom requires religion.” They were well aware that for hundreds of years people have been imprisoned, tortured, and slaughtered in the name of religion. Religion has been a force in shackling men at least as often as liberating them, particularly when associated with the state. Under those conditions, it seeks to use the force of government to cement its temporal power, stifling new ideas while neglecting the persuasion which is the root of any effectual religion. At the same time, government when united with religion seeks to appropriate the moral authority of its partner, manipulating the modes of religion to promote its own agenda, as we experienced with the Bush administration in their Office of Faith-Based Initiatives.

Hardly trying to purge God from the nation, these founding fathers (and their modern separationist counterparts) were trying to create an environment in which religion could flourish. A level playing field allows any moral sentiment the opportunity to make its case, to rise or fall on its own merits. They sought a society in which organizations would be forced to rely on exhortation rather than coercion to promote and defend their beliefs; in which dogma could be challenged and, if found lacking, cast aside. They hoped for a society in which new ideas and new systems of belief—such as the LDS faith—could be explored and, if they drew people through their fruit, take root and blossom. When government either tries to play a role in favoring religious beliefs and practices, or neglects its duty to protect the freedom of conscience which is the root of religious freedom, government hinders that process. Religion as a result becomes superficial and hollow, a matter of compulsion rather than faith. A purely secular, areligious government, one entirely indifferent to religion, best enables religion to achieve its full spiritual potency.

Of all people we in the LDS faith should understand the importance of freedom of conscience. We are taught that the Lord raised up this nation as a land of liberty in order to restore his Gospel where it might not be smothered by the oppression of contemporary religious orthodoxy. The Church suffered great hardship and persecution because the freedom of conscience which Jefferson and Madison favored was so imperfectly protected.

This principle is part of the Church canon, in the Eleventh Article of Faith:

“We claim the privilege of worshiping Almight God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.”

D&C 134:4-5 & 9-10 makes the Gospel’s position even more clear on the subject:

“We believe that religion is instituted of God; and that men are amenable to him, and to him only, for the exercise of it, unless their religious opinions prompt them to infringe upon the rights and liberties of others; but we do not believe that human law has a right to interfere in prescribing rules of worship to bind the consciences of men, nor dictate forms for public or private devotion; that the civil magistrate should restrain crime, but never control conscience; should punish guilt, but never suppress the freedom of the soul.

We believe that all men are bound to sustain and uphold the respective governments in which they reside, while protected in their inherent and inalienable rights by the laws of such governments; and that sedition and rebellion are unbecoming every citizen thus protected, and should be punished accordingly; and that all governments have a right to enact such laws as in their own judgments are best calculated to secure the public interest; at the same time, however, holding sacred the freedom of conscience…

…We do not believe it just to mingle religious influence with civil government, whereby one religious society is fostered and another proscribed in its spiritual privileges, and the individual rights of its members, as citizens, denied.

We believe that all religious societies have a right to deal with their members for disorderly conduct, according to the rules and regulations of such societies; provided that such dealings be for fellowship and good standing; but we do not believe that any religious society has authority to try men on the right of property or life, to take from them this world’s goods, or to put them in jeopardy of either life or limb, or to inflict any physical punishment upon them. They can only excommunicate them from their society, and withdraw from them their fellowship (emphasis added).”

In seeking to instill in government a systematic predisposition towards religion, religious conservatives typically point to the such patriots as George Washington, who spoke emphatically of the importance of religion for the nation in such works as his farewell address. These conservatives balk at the idea of a secular state, protesting that such a state betrays Washington’s vision by favoring atheism. They are wrong. A firm separation of Church and State does not encourage or aid atheism over any other belief. It merely allows atheists the same freedom to follow the dictates of their conscience as anyone else. It grants atheism the same opportunity to make its case as any theology. And atheists should unquestionably have that right. Freedom of conscience is a lie, the lie of toleration, if it is proffered only to theistic beliefs. Do we as Christians so lack confidence in the persuasive power of the doctrines of Christ as to require atheism repressed by the government, indirectly or otherwise?
Meaningful religion needs no government sanction or support to sustain itself. In Jefferson’s notes for the debate on Virginia’s disestablishment, he outlined such an argument:

“Christianity flourished three-hundred years without establishments. Soon as established, decline from purity. Betrays want of confidence in doctrines of church to suspect that reason or intrinsic excellence insufficient without secular prop (The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, Julian Boyd editor, vol. 1 p.538-539).”

Yes, Washington and other prominent founders expected the United States of America to be a religious nation. But that brings us to the second sense of the phrase “Religious (or Christian) Nation,” one in which the people of the nation upholds Christian virtue by free choice, as dictated by one’s conscience. Jefferson and Madison expected true religion to flourish in the U.S.—a religion which conventional Christians then and now would hardly endorse, but a religion nonetheless—by virtue of its power to touch the hearts of those who freely experiment upon its claims, and the persuasion of those who have experienced its goodness in their lives. They expected religion to be refined and improved through the process of free inquiry and exploration. A Christian (or religious) nation in the first sense of the word—in which government takes a hand in promoting religion, is directly antithetical to that desire. By increasingly seeking to intermingle the two, pursuing government favor for their own religious beliefs, religious conservatives are impeding the very goals they supposedly hope to accomplish. If they would follow Madison and Jefferson in strengthening the wall between the two, they could better ensure that this nation protected the religious and personal liberties we celebrate today.
In the next issue: Separation of Church and State III: Making a State Incognizant of Religion

This Rolling Stone - by Cody McKay

Recently I have been simultaneously reading two books. One is called The Sixties Chronicle, which is basically a pictorial history of the events of the decade from 1960-1969 and also includes first hand accounts and commentary on the events. The other book is a biography of President David O. McKay called David O. McKay and the Rise of Modern Mormonism and which, although written by two Mormons, is a pretty truthful and fairly unbiased account of President McKay's tenure as Prophet of the LDS Church and isn't shy about tackling controversial issues such as the Church's opposition to the civil rights movement, for example. I'm really enjoying both books immensely, and I've decided that in spite of his faults, I really like David O. McKay. He seems to be a great proponent of free agency, free thinking, and seems (to me, at least) to be a "spirit of the law" kind of individual as opposed to a "letter of the law" individual. That being said, he did also err on the side of inaction at times.

With the recent endorsement of the LDS Church, an ordinance in Salt Lake City which bans employment and housing discrimination against gays, lesbians, and transgendered individuals was passed. Many gay rights activists were surprised by the Church's endorsement, and I admit I was surprised as well (but was very pleased by what I see as a positive step). The LDS Church is still adamant that it will not support gay marriage and will continue to fight for what it believes is right as far as that issue is concerned.

Some in the gay-rights community are skeptical, feeling that the LDS Church only did this to save face with those who have a less-than-favorable impression of the church and did it simply to boost their image. That may be true, although it seems to me the LDS Church usually does what it feels is right regardless of how popular those decisions make them.

Some in the gay community are also indignant, feeling that they owe the LDS Church no gratitude for this endorsement when the church is still actively working to deny their civil rights. This is an understandable feeling. I, for one, am grateful for any strides the LDS Church makes in regards to gay rights, just as I am thankful for strides that those in the gay-rights community make in creating an atmosphere of communication rather than antagonism. I think we all have a long way to go, but I am thankful for small steps even if it is "two steps forward, one step back" at times.

As I've been reading about the sixties, I am reminded of how volatile the issue of civil rights and desegregation could be, and although racism still exists today, it is fascinating to see how far the civil rights movement has come. It is interesting to look at the photos in The Sixties Chronicle and be reminded of a time not very long ago at all when black people couldn't sit at the same counter as white people or use the same restroom or drinking fountain; black people couldn't attend white schools and were denied employment because of the color of their skin; that a black person couldn't vote or marry a white person; that the whole "separate, but equal" idea was such a sham. One looks at these pictures and sees very plainly that whites were always given preferential treatment. They were given the better jobs, got to sit in the choicest seats, and weren't denied many of the normal things life didn't offer the African-American. And when blacks attempted to fight for their rights, they were assaulted, beaten, hosed, attacked by dogs, intimidated, threatened, and killed, often by the very people whose job it was to supposedly "serve and protect."

As I've read about these issues, it dawns on me that there were many segregationists who probably felt that the threat of civil rights for blacks was completely destroying the foundation of their very lives. They literally felt as if their world would fall apart if blacks were to obtain equal rights. I've seen pictures of a woman holding a picket sign that says, "Integration is a mortal sin." Another sign held by a young man says, "The only way to end niggers is exterminate." Another white man with a gun threatens a black man who is attempting to enter his store. Still another pours hydrochloric acid into a swimming pool where blacks are having a swim-in. Parents pull their white kids out of a school where a little black girl, attending first grade for the first time since desegregation has taken effect, has to be protected by federal marshalls. Police and local government leaders refuse to follow the policies the federal government has laid out concerning desegregation, and it is only through federal government protection that they publicly back down (although in private, they still commit some horrendous acts). A church is bombed and kills several black girls. Civil rights advocates are tortured and killed.

This was not so long ago. Even as I read this book about David O. Mckay, it is interesting to see where the LDS Church stood on civil rights issues. Realizing that church leaders and members were a product of their time, it is still amazing to me to see how blacks were treated by people who professed to belong to a church established by the Savior himself. Most church leaders were opposed to racial integration, including David O. McKay, and were suspicious of the civil rights movement. J. Reuben Clark, Henry D. Moyle, Joseph Fielding Smith, Harold B. Lee, Ezra Taft Benson, and Mark E. Peterson all opposed civil rights and said things that would certainly be considered racist today, if not then. There was a great resistance to change and progression as far as this issue was concerned.
One man in the First Presidency, Hugh B. Brown, was more progressive in this area and said the following in the October, 1963 General Conference when members of the NAACP threatened to picket Temple Square after being rebuffed in their desire to meet with the First Presidency:

“During recent months both in Salt Lake City and across the nation considerable interest has been expressed in the position of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the matter of civil rights. We would like it to be known that there is in this church no doctrine, belief, or practice that is intended to deny the enjoyment of full civil rights by any person regardless of race, color, or creed.

We again say, as we have said many times before, that we believe that all men are the children of the same God and that it is a moral evil for any person or group of persons to deny to any human being the right to gainful employment, to full educational opportunity, and to every privilege of citizenship, just as it is a moral evil to deny him the right to worship according to the dictates of his own conscience.

We have consistently and persistently upheld the Constitution of the United States, and as far as we are concerned that means upholding the constitutional rights of every citizen of the United States.

We call upon all men everywhere, both within and outside the Church, to commit themselves to the establishment of full civil equality for all of God's children. Anything less than this defeats our high ideal of the brotherhood of man."

While not sanctioned by the church at the time as an "official statement," it later was reluctantly elevated to "official" status two years later when NAACP leaders threatened to organize a series of marches in front of the Church Administration Building.

As I've read all these things and thought about today's current climate, I cannot help but see the parallels between the civil rights movement of the 60s, the women's rights movement, and the gay rights movement. Just as whites feared their world would come crashing down as blacks tried to gain equality; just as men thought their worlds was crashing down when women tried to gain equality; so I think many straight people feel the same way as gay people try to gain equality. It was not so very long ago, too, that you could be arrested for being gay or when homosexuality was considered a disease (and some people still feel that it is). Although I do think gay people have suffered discrimination and violence from hate-crimes, I do have to say that I think black people have been treated far more harshly in American history than gay people have (although I do think gay people have been treated very unfairly, too).

It is interesting to me that the LDS Church always seems to be in the rear and very slow on the uptake when it comes to equal rights. Church leaders in the 60s opposed civil rights legislation, and the state legislature consistently shot down bills that would give equal rights to blacks. The church also opposed the Equal Rights Amendment in the 70s. This quote is taken from a Utah history website:

"The attack against ERA seemed, at times, alarmist and hysterical. Equation of ERA with sexual permissiveness, abortion, child care, homosexuality, and unisexuality drew the debate away from the constitutional principal of equality to issues of 'traditional family values.' But the attack did reflect the fears of many about the changing roles of women and men and about the changing form of the family. There seemed to be danger in equality for the ideological/cultural concept of the father as head and provider, mother as nurturer and manager, and children as replicas into the next generation. Many feared the equality would make women more vulnerable and exposed, that men would feel freer to abandon family responsibilities.

Certainly it was these fears which prompted Mormon church leaders to eventually join their financial resources, their promotional skills and their far-flung network of members to the counterrevolution. Church leaders in 1976 described ERA as 'a moral issue with many disturbing ramifications for women and for the family as individual members as a whole.' President Spencer Kimball declared it 'would strike at the family, humankind's basic institution.'

Donations to support the anti-ERA effort were solicited by ward bishops; speeches against the amendment were deemed appropriate at all church meetings, and church buildings were used as an anti-ERA literature distribution points. Church sponsored anti-ERA organizations operated in Florida, Nevada, North and South Carolina, Missouri, Illinois and Arizona."

Likewise today, the Utah state legislature (which is predominantly Mormon) consistently shoots down bills that would protect the rights of gay citizens, and of course we are aware of the financial and grassroots backing that existed from the LDS Church in the fight for the passage of Proposition 8 in California. The parallels with both civil rights for blacks and equal rights for women seem very similar to the current gay-rights struggle vis-à-vis the LDS Church. But just as blacks and women have received more equality over the years (although there is still inequality, racism, and sexism that exists), I think it is inevitable that gay people will receive the rights they long for. I really do think it's a difficult, if not impossible task to stop "this rolling stone."

And just as I think it's hard to look back and read about the way the civil rights movement and battle against the Equal Rights Amendment (which people are still trying to pass) were handled by the LDS Church, I am reminded about the current battle that is happening with gay rights and wonder how history will view the LDS Church. I don't know what will happen or even necessarily what should happen, but I do think gay rights are going to be a reality, especially as the older generation dies and the newer generation, many of whom seem to support gay rights, comes to the forefront. There will be some lost battles, but I think the war will be won, and just as I know there were people who thought their worlds would collapse as blacks and women gained more equality, I think those people who oppose gay rights will be surprised at how little their worlds will really change for the worst. Heck, they might even discover that their worlds are better. Change can be a very good thing, even if some people don't believe it is progress.

Finding Faith In Christ And In The Members - by David Baker

Membership: What does this word mean to you? What do you think of when you hear it? Church membership? Membership in the Democratic Party? Membership in the NRA? Recently I have heard the terminology used and described as being a “card carrying” member. Does a recommend, a credit card, a checkbook, a Masonic ring really make you a member? It seems that more and more if you are a member of this group or that, then you are defined solely by that membership. The concept is that you are a homogeneous member of the basic guidelines of the group, that you are one solid core or thought.

Even if this isn’t the actual case, the manner in which we act would lead us to believe that this is so. How often in church do we see other members as “fitting the mold?” When you meet a Mormon from Utah County do you not think of one key type, a member of a particular set of homogeneous guidelines?

I ruminate upon this because a while back I discovered that the word “member” as used in the ancient Greek by Paul, means an “organ;” an essential part of the whole. Today we see membership as belonging to a “unit” like membership as a storm trooper or of a member of the Borg. We see membership and each member as one replaceable cog in the collective machine.

I feel that this is how members on a ward, stake and worldwide level see “membership” in the Church. How uninspiring is it to be a replaceable cog in the machine of the Church when Paul produced such beautiful imagery to describe how we are all organs in the body of Christ, and in the body of the Church. We each have our own vital role that is no less important than any other organ’s job. We might be a tiny nephron, filtering out waste, or a neuron transmitting essential commands of higher thought. Regardless of our role in the body of His Church, we are vastly important to Christ.

How sad is it that in our modern world of machinery we grow up learning that to question is wrong; that those whose opinions within the Church were wavering or off from our own were succinctly bad or evil. This happens all around us. If you doubt it just bring a Sunstone magazine to Sunday School or speak up in priesthood with a viewpoint that is different from the status quo.

If we looked and saw someone doing something different from us, we would assume that our model, our way, is right, that it is the best way to do it. If a neuron saw a nephron filtering waste, wouldn’t it wonder and think (after living only with other neurons) that that nephron was a foreign entity, that it was wrong, or evil and that it was not doing things correctly? And yet, when looked at from a distance, with an all-encompassing view, are they not both equally important and necessary for maintaining the body? If we are all members in the organization of the Church then should there not be the diversity of thought and opinion and of people as seen by Paul?

As a gay Mormon I now know and feel that there is a place for me in Christ’s love and I while I know that there is a position for me in membership of his Church organization, I hope that others begin to notice it and realize that even though I might be a nose hair follicle, a stem cell, or a pituitary gland, it doesn’t matter. Each individual cell has a place; each organ is essential and each member essential to the Body of the Church. I know that the Lord sees me, as he made me, as an integral part of the overall body of the Gospel.

Regardless of what others say, I believe that “MoHo’s” (Mormon homosexuals) have a place in the organization of the church. Whether our place is to cleanse the system of the waste of prejudice and inequality, to help the church grow out of stagnancy, or to serve as a line of defense against the outside world, we have a place. I do not know what or where it is, but I have faith in the Lord, the Master that he is. He has placed us precisely in the position where we need to be and at the end of the day he will tell us, “well done my good and faithful servant.”

Food For Thought - Winter 2009

How should we deal with the undertone of politically conservative comments at church? Should we speak up or should we avoid confrontation? If we invite liberal friends to church, should we apologize for comments that can come across as offensive?

God's Love - by Cody McKay

There is one thing I feel I have learned over the course of years (and am probably still learning), and that is that God’s love really is all-reaching and limitless. There is no one living or dead, past, present, or future that this love does not apply to. Often, as human beings, we are so quick to judge others or ourselves, and there are times when we think God couldn’t possibly love us because of the things we’ve done in our lives. Perhaps there are certain people we think God couldn’t (or even shouldn’t) love. God’s love is hard to understand with our limited human perception, but I feel sure he loves everyone, even the people that are harder to love.

I remember a particular church meeting I went to. In Sunday School the lesson was about Samuel the Lamanite, and as I was listening, it struck me that Samuel, righteous as he was, was actually an outsider preaching to members of the Church who had become prideful and wicked. I assume Samuel was considered a member of the Church, too, since he was a prophet and living his life in righteousness. But my point is that it struck me as ironic that these high and mighty Nephites, who probably felt Samuel was beneath them, were being preached to and called to repentance by he who was actually more righteous in his life than they were. I just thought it was interesting.

What really lifted me up spiritually that day was that the Special Needs Mutual came to our ward to sing and speak. I didn't even know that such a group existed. What was interesting to me was that during the sacrament, one of the special needs women started commentating on the proceedings at full voice. She was pretty much shouting stuff like "Here comes the bread!" and "Oh, he's passing by us now," etc. She wasn't doing it to be rude. In fact, she was quite joyful in doing it. It's just the way she was. As I sat there, I thought about how social rules have taught us all our life to be "normal," whatever that means, and that one of those rules is that we're supposed to be quiet and reverent during the sacrament, and I thought, "I'll bet there are people in the congregation who are uncomfortable or bothered by this woman,” and I asked myself a question I have asked myself often: "Why are we so afraid of people that are different from us?" I myself was not bothered by her behavior; in fact, I found it sweet in a way. And I always am interested in things that "rock the boat" a bit. In my mind I thought, "This woman is who she is. She can't help behaving that way nor does she view it as being wrong or abnormal." As I thought about this, I equated it to my own situation of being a homosexual, something I feel I just am even if it means I don't always fit in the "Mormon box."

What really moved me was that this special needs group sang a song that I know very well from having sang it in high school many years ago. Perhaps you are familiar with it as well. It is called "In This Very Room," and these are the lyrics:

"In this very room there's quite enough love for one like me,
And in this very room there's quite enough joy for one like me,
And there's quite enough hope and quite enough power to chase away any gloom,
For Jesus, Lord Jesus ... is in this very room.
And in this very room there's quite enough love for all of us,
And in this very room there's quite enough joy for all of us,
And there's quite enough hope and quite enough power to chase away any gloom,
For Jesus, Lord Jesus ... is in this very room.

In this very room there's quite enough love for all the world,
And in this very room there's quite enough joy for all the world,
And there's quite enough hope and quite enough power to chase away any gloom,
For Jesus, Lord Jesus ... is in this very room."

What was interesting was their configuration as they sang it. Unlike a "normal" choir that would be in some proper formation, one guy with Down’s syndrome came to the front of the group all by himself, and yet another sang the song from the aisle near the congregation (still a part of the group, but completely on his own at the same time). Their voices were varied. Some sang just fine, others couldn't sing well at all, and that one woman just commented while everybody was singing until she was the last voice heard muttering various things long after the song itself had ended. It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen or heard in church, and I was crying throughout, especially because the words seemed so poignant to their situation as well as my own. Sometimes one doesn't fit the conventional definition of "normalcy," at least by the world's standards or the church's standards or society's standards or what-have-you. But what really hit me was that it doesn't matter so much because God's love is so far-reaching, so eternal, so abundant, so boundless, that there is a place for everyone at his table. No one is beyond the reach of his love. No one is excluded. Sometimes religion can seem like a very exclusive thing, and it is interesting that the irony is that God is completely inclusive.

I was reminded of a song from an Off-Broadway show, Altar Boyz, called "Everybody Fits." It goes like this:

“Some days you just can't begin.
You feel outside looking in.
It's like you're the odd man out.
Let me help you end your doubt.

It doesn't matter if you're different and out of place.
It doesn't matter if there's acne upon your face.
It doesn't matter.
Take my hand and then you will see
Everybody fits in God's great family.

Strangers seem to stop and stare,
Wonderin' why you're even there,
Feeling so left out and wrong.
I'll show you that you belong.

It doesn't matter if you have a gigantic nose.
It doesn't matter if you're born with eleven toes.
It doesn't matter.
You can trust and believe in me.
Everybody fits in God's great family.

In the family of God you'll learn
That there is no such thing as others.
All the woman and men on Earth
Can be your sisters and your brothers.

It doesn't matter if you're wrinkled and old and gray.
It doesn't matter if you face Mecca when you pray.
It doesn't matter.
Won't you listen and hear my plea?
Everybody fits.
It doesn't matter if you're yellow or white or red.
It doesn't matter if you're pregnant and you're unwed.
It doesn't matter
'Cause the truth, it can set you free,
Everybody fits!
Everybody fits!

It doesn't matter .
Every murderer on death row
It doesn't matter
Every prostitute that you know
It doesn't matter
Welcome to the fraternity.
Everybody fits in God's great family,
You and me,
We fit into the family.”

I really believe in an all-loving God. I think sometimes people and religion make us think we lose his love if we sin or that if we're not living our lives perfectly according to society's norms that we're somehow unworthy of that love. I wish I could convince everyone that this isn't true. My heart powerfully received the message on that Sunday (as it has many times before) that there is a place for all at God's table regardless of your situation. I don't care if you're a murderer, an adulterer, an atheist, gay, mentally-challenged, mentally-deranged, suicidal, a woman, a man, if you've lost all faith or have plenty, whether you're a prophet, or the biggest sinner in the world. God loves you and me in terms that are inexplicable to our finite human minds, and nothing we ever do will cause him to stop loving us. I become more and more convinced of that as I continue on my life's journey. It's good to know.

Personal and Public Opinion: Outed by the Controversy - by Melanie Carbine

Prior to the November 2008 elections, I ended up in the middle of two very different but related arguments. I was running a new word by a recently (but selectively) out mission friend: “heteronormative.” I wanted to find the most appropriate adjective for my sexuality, without any comment on my friend's own homosexual relationship (which I supported from the beginning). However, I didn’t mean to imply that homosexuality was abnormal. On the other hand, another mission friend (one with whom I had an on-again-off-again relationship) was threatening to unfriend me on Facebook if I continued to comment on (or rather question) his notes supporting the Yes on 8 campaign in California.

Either way, I was being silenced and I was once again in the margins of both arguments. What hurt the most was that this person, whom I loved, was comparing me to Lot's wife. He said that if I had lived in Sodom and Gomorrah I would have been a pillar of salt - to which of course, I asked if that made him Lot. I demanded to know why it was okay for him and not me to sleep with girls. He told me I was against the Church and that I should think about that the next time I had a temple recommend interview. Not only did I have one, but I was a temple worker. Where was his recommend?

It wasn't a pretty fight, and I was really hurt that he was unwilling to understand or recognize either my personal choices, sacrifice, or position. I would have been marrying my (liberal) non-LDS boyfriend that month if we hadn't broken it off during my mission. The pressure from my family and friends had been too much, and I had started to really want a temple marriage. Either way, it had been hard to walk away from that and not look back.

Besides that, I live in Ann Arbor, Michigan (the San Francisco of the mid-west, if you will). I had opportunities to date amazing women; attraction is attraction. Yet, I decided that since I have a choice (unlike many others) I would only date men. I really believe that I am doing the best I can to live God's commandments as he has revealed them. I do not think that voting for gay rights legislation puts me on the outs with God. I trust that He knows the love in my heart for Him and His children. I think my actions, on both counts, reflect that.

Almost a year later, D.C. - following the trend of five other states (obviously not California) – recognized same-sex marriages. At this time, I was visiting a woman named Nell in D.C. whom I had taught on my mission in the Marshall Islands. I had made a point to follow the white handbook as best I could, even after the mission. So long as I taught someone as a missionary, I refrained from talking about politics. (Besides, so far, every "liberal Mormon" I have met has almost always actually been a moderate.)

Nell married a wonderful man who happens to be a "liberal liberal” as she put it. She commented on the "liberal backlash" or attitude towards any non-liberal viewpoint, by whatever degree. She cited Carrie Prejean as an example. She insisted that it was Ms Prejean's "personal opinion" on same sex marriage and therefore unfairly received a liberal uproar (Prejean had modeled lingerie a few years previously).

Ms Prejean said that she felt God was testing her and that she felt she had to stand true to what she believed. Whatever Ms Prejean's motivation during or after the Miss U.S.A. contest in April 2009, she became the face of a conservative agenda when she was featured in an ad against gay marriage (NY Times- April 30 2009-Ad Against Gay Marriage Features Miss California). And, it has happened before. Miss America runner-up Anita Bryant and her pretty face got a Human Rights Ordinance repealed in California in 1977. The fact was so notable that the American Association for Retired Persons included it in an online Gay History Timeline (1958-2009) posted to honor the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.

What could I say to Nell? Specifically, what would I say in response to the question of why Ms Prejean got such a hard time for her personal opinion? Even though she wasn't particularly well spoken, she's pretty and people paid attention to her. Besides, lots of people get a hard time for their personal opinions, myself included. When my personal opinion becomes my public and political opinion (even if just a vote), other people are affected and I must consider that first. Maybe I'm a bad ally because I date heteronormatively (my personal choice), and maybe I'm a bad Mormon because I questioned my friends' support of Prop 8 (my public vote).

Ideally, I'd support state civil unions of any two people and optional marriage by religious and secular organizations of any two people as defined by those organizations. We already have our own "marriage" separate from the state institution with different requirements: temple sealings. I decided that's what I wanted even if it seems finding a Mormon man willing to convert to the left is about as unlikely as finding a liberal willing to convert to Mormonism. I'm still going to support other kinds of families (and marriages), and I definitely support access to health care, green cards and adoption rights. Close friends on both sides of the issue tell me it's not enough. Would I be a pillar of salt if I had lived in Sodom and Gomorrah?

I think God knows the content of my heart better than that.

John's Story - by Lewis Campbell

Quite some time ago, I moved into a ward where I turned out to be the only temple-recommend holder Elder. The Elder's Quorum was led by a high-priest. Of course, it took about a week before I was in the Stake President's office and found myself as the new EQ President.

There was a gentleman I'll never forget. I'll call him John to protect the innocent. My ward is on the Dineh (Navajo) Nation. John was a quiet Navajo man who was really faithful. He attended all the service projects and really cared about helping others. We ended up calling him as the EQ Secretary.

Not long after, he stopped coming to church. Eventually, one of the other members came to me, angrily demanding that I release him immediately. Apparently, he showed up drunk some place where this other member was. Two more people came to me with the same complaint. We ultimately had to release John.

I visited John and he broke down and told me all about his lifetime struggle with alcoholism. I asked him to please come back to church, because I really felt he needed love and support. He lived by himself and we were really the only people he knew who didn't drink. He told me he was afraid, because he knew everyone would look down at him and criticize him. I knew he was right, but I told him that no matter what happened, no matter what anyone said or did to him, he could sit by me and my family and I would be happy to see him there, and I would never look down on him. He started coming again for a while, but he was right. There were disapproving looks, and sometimes outright criticisms. He came less and less, and finally not at all.

One night, I had a dream. In my dream, I was presiding at a funeral in our ward, and John was the man in the casket. Within days of my dream, John's brother died in an alcohol related accident. At the funeral, I took John aside and told him about my dream, and begged him to come to church. I told him I was afraid that the dream would come to pass if he didn't. He agreed, and started coming to church, but after a while, the same thing happened. The disapproving looks. The general malaise. He eventually stopped coming.

Then, one day, he went on a drinking binge and ended up in the hospital for alcohol poisoning. For some reason I'll never understand, the hospital released him at 1AM without anyone of us, his friends or family there to help him. He walked out onto the highway straight into the path of an oncoming semi. A few days later, my dream came true, and I attended John's funeral.

Ever since then, whenever I get the opportunity, I rail against judgmentalism and the kinds of attitudes that we sometimes have that are inconsistent with Christ-like love and patience. I try to remind people that, unless your name has “Bishop” in front of it, you are not called to be a “judge in Zion” for anyone but yourself. Our call is to be diligent in avoiding sin, yes, but to be focused on our own sin, not so much the sins of others. I remind people that although the chapel is sacred, it is not the temple. There is no recommend required to enter. “Nevertheless, ye shall not cast him out of your synagogues, or your places of worship, for unto such shall ye continue to minister; for ye know not but what they will return and repent, and come unto me with full purpose of heart, and I shall heal them; and ye shall be the means of bringing salvation unto them.” (3 Ne 18:32) Chapels are the emergency rooms of the church, and the Savior is the chief physician. “And Jesus answering said unto them, They that are whole need not a physician; but they that are sick.” (Luke 5:31). Even today, every time I think about John, it breaks my heart.

Flash back to many, many years before this incident, and many years before we moved into this ward. A long, long time ago I left the church for similar reasons as some others. I am a pretty opinionated liberal or progressive or whatever you want to call it. I'm a card-carrying member of the green party. And a few years after being baptized, I came to the conclusion that I couldn't deal with the pushing, the absolutist attitude, the guilt trips, and all that. And, more importantly, I couldn't make my progressive ideals mesh with what I thought was an overwhelmingly conservative church.

I'm not telling this story to make people think they're wrong to leave the church or to be skeptical. On the contrary, I'm telling it to say that I truly understand what some people go through because I've been there. Like many LDS spouses, my wife has always been very straight-up conservative LDS, and she almost divorced me when I left the church. To make it worse, her family was furious with me, and I was under a lot of pressure.

But for me the path was different. As I said before, a few years later we moved to New Mexico and I took a job where I was surrounded by active LDS people. But they were different — less judgmental, more Christ-like. And I learned, slowly, that all the stuff that drove me crazy was culture, not doctrine. More importantly, though, I learned for myself that the core of my individual faith was following the Savior's statement of the two greatest commandments: To love the Lord thy God with all your heart, mind and soul, and to love your neighbor as yourself. If you think about it, progressive values are Christ-like values. They are the embodiment of "loving your neighbor as yourself."

Fast-forward to today, I'm still vocal and opinionated. People around me now know that I'm going to open up a can of smack-down on them if they try to get away with some snide comment like, "We'd better get ready for the second coming now that Obama's in office." (Actually, I try to be kind but firm, but you get the point.) But everyone from my bishop to my stake president supports my right to believe what I believe, even though they disagree with me, because this truly is a partisan neutral church, and they truly do believe in President Hinckley's admonition to "disagree without being disagreeable." So far, I haven't been released.

Also, I’m happy to say that John’s death, in my opinion, was not in vain. It changed me. I repeat that story to my counselors often, and we have learned how to help people like John understand that they are wanted and loved in our ward so that they can have the emotional support that comes from being in such a community. I really feel like, for every John whose life ended in tragedy, we have five others who were able to overcome. Of course, battling addiction is a never-ending thing. John is one of the battles we lost. But largely because of John, we are winning the war.

I don't know why all this cultural nonsense is so prevalent in the church. But I have to say, that for me, it's all irrelevant. I'm truly happy being both LDS and progressive. And I when I left the church and came back to it, I left all the guilt behind. Mostly now, I just take joy in helping all these men and their families who are trying to eek out their way in this life, and seeing them grown and change. In my opinion, that's what an Elder's Quorum President, or any church member, should be doing. That's what Christ did. That's what he wants us to do. The rest of it is just details.