I went to BYU. I enjoyed my time there. I feel like a got a solid education for a good price. I don't regret going. I made long-lasting friendships there. Was it a perfect place? Far from it. Too many weird, toxic BYU-Utah-Mormon culture corners converged there, but as long as you were able to navigate away from those, you're OK. Not everyone who attends can.
I was an active member of a large club that catered to "nerdy" interests like anime, tabletop RPGs, video games, and such. This club had all kinds of unusual characters, many of whom I later learned were not cisgender, not conservative, and not typical Mormon-faithful zealots. I had the benefit of not falling in any of those categories during my attendance, although later on in my experience, due to my involvement with another organization at the school (think of it as a question answering service), I began to be exposed to a lot more of the margins of the "typical" BYU experience.
I wish I could say that I showed nothing but utmost respect and kindness for people struggling in the extremely conformist BYU environment. But the majority of the time, when confronted with such things, I merely sat in silence, considering. When the Prop 8 fever washed over campus (a similar proposition banning gay marriage was proposed in Arizona, my home state), I privately wrestled with the fundamental legal theory behind such a thing. I accepted my Church's stance that gay marriage was "out-planned" but couldn't easily justify denying marriage to people who don't adhere to this idea. Elder Oaks spoke often of why it was OK...but it just never sat right with me. Couldn't I just as easily sit back and allow people to make choices different from me? We've allowed people to drink alcohol and smoke for centuries...why should we care so much about whom others loved?
Otherwise, I very rarely bothered with controversy on campus. I had a demanding major, and I focused most of my energies on completing my course of study, which only intensified as I pursued a master's degree. Most of the issues appeared to be silly, like facial hair, length of hair, jeggings, etc. The LGBTQ question just seemed like a hypothetical situation, because how many LDS faithful so identify?
A lot more than I ever thought...they likely never revealed their true feelings where I could hear them. I began to fulfill the Mormon ideals of entering a temple marriage and having children. These were rightfully joyous occasions, but I noticed a shift in the Church's attitude towards me after these events. I was no longer a "single" person who needed to pressured into making major life decisions, like I had been for nearly a decade. Now I appeared to be "free" to work on developing myself on my own terms, without any mandatory milestones, except for those for my kids. Then I opened my ears and heard many of my friends from college reveal longstanding struggles after leaving BYU.
Again, coming from my position of privilege within the church (a heterosexual son of lifetime church members, an RM, a conservative) it was relatively easy to blend into the environment at BYU. Only my interests made me a bit out of the norm, which is what put me in touch with the closeted, marginalized community of BYU. Nearly a dozen of my acquaintances in my club ended up distancing themselves to some degree from the Church on account of trauma endured, whether it was for gender norms, politics, or questions of faith. I wasn't close personal friends with any of them, but close enough acquaintances that hearing their experiences was painful.
The unfortunate fact of the matter is the LDS Church is poorly equipped to care for those who are on the margins. We talk of Christ, we rejoice of Christ, but if you need to use Christ to repent of anything then OH BOY THERE'LL BE HELL TO PAY. I had the fortunate experience of having compassionate leaders in my formative years that appreciated the repentance process as what it is--a means of improvement that everyone can access. All our leaders across the board are not perfect, unfortunately, which means that certain nonconforming behaviors receive little to any compassion. If you're unlucky in leadership roulette, you may have a bishop that can instill even deeper shame in someone's vulnerable state. Not everyone in leadership is well-suited in navigating emotional and mental trauma, and the use of licensed therapy is not frequently considered nor recommended.
Without continuing to beat around the bush, sexuality is one of the most constrained and limited aspects of one's person in the Church. We caution, warn, and even frighten our youth to prevent any misstep, to the point that it may seem easier to excise sexuality from one's life. It's absolutely true that people can make devastating mistakes with their sexuality, even devaluing their own sense of self-worth. The solution to this, like all other pain, is the Atonement--something that we like to frame almost as a last resort lest we sound like 2 Ne 28:8 (God will justify committing a little sin) or Helaman 13:27 (go and do iniquity). We don't offer much in the sense of positive and healthy sexual education. In our zeal to prevent fornication and infidelity, we can cause even survivors of assault and abuse to feel ashamed.
And then there is the issue of being attracted to others of the same sex. Or not being comfortable with one's sex assigned at birth. Given that it is a minority practice, it historically did not get a whole lot of attention. It was seen as deviancy, a condition that had to be removed and corrected. Some Levitical verses touch on this, as well as a couple of Pauline epistles. In these instances, specific cultures and practices were being singled out as "abominable." It wasn't until the later half of the 20th century that Church leaders began to speak of the evils of "homosexual behavior," which set off a chain of practices that included conversion therapy, electroshock therapy, and organized surveillance to detect people involved in these kinds of acts. Over time, the Church realized that these practices were dubiously ethical at best and stopped promoting them, and attitudes towards LGBTQ members began to soften. The Church put their focus in defending marriage as a male-female exclusive rite, but advocated love for its faithful "struggling with same sex attraction."
This brings us to the current official policy of the Church, which, if we maintain that the prophet speaks for God, is the will of God: LGBTQ people are welcomed and accepted in the church, as long as they do not engage in any sexual behavior. As an institution, the Church essentially advocates for a monastic class of the LGBTQ community, who are to devote themselves in faith and service to God and to live a life of celibacy. This is the Church's position as a private institution, yet the law of the land (in the United States) as a result of the Supreme Court's 2015 ruling in Obergefell v Hodges is that all states are required to license and recognize same-sex marriages.
Thus, any LDS-practicing same-sex couple finds themselves as having broken their nouveau-monastic vows in the eyes of the Church and candidates for Church discipline, even if they are legally married. The Church, not exactly offering structures and environments conducive to celibate classes as other faiths do (see Catholicism or Buddhism), places the LGBTQ community in a de facto segregated class within its regular order. It should come as little surprise that the LGBTQ faithful struggle with this status and often find relief by departing altogether. Even more uncomfortable are the students who enter the Church's university, BYU, either already identifying as LGBTQ or discovering this identity during their studies--they risk expulsion.
Now, in this light, there was a talk that the apostle and former BYU president Jeffrey R. Holland gave at a BYU conference for faculty. In it, he waxed poetic about the inspirational attributes of my alma mater. He then shared a letter from an upset writer:
"'You should know...that some people in the extended community are feeling abandoned and betrayed by BYU. It seems that some professors (at least the vocal ones in the media) are supporting ideas that many of us feel are contradictory to gospel principles, making it appear to be about like any other university our sons and daughters could have attended. Several parents have said they no longer want to send their children here or donate to the school.'"
The writer goes on to blame a BYU program specifically for "radicalizing" a friend and causing her to leave the Church. Elder Holland points out that BYU, as an extension of the Church, should "stay in harmony with the Lord's anointed." He then goes on to quote a couple of other apostles about the importance of building and defending the kingdom with "musket fire." Specifically, one of the quotes was from Elder Oaks in 2014 speaking of the need to defend marriage "as the union of a man and a woman." It's unclear what one does to defend marriage that requires "musket fire," but perhaps Oaks was referring to then ongoing legal cases that were rendered moot by 2015. Holland goes on to throw in a little jibe that some of BYU's musket fire wasn't hurting the enemies of the Church.
Elder Holland speaks of the high-level discussions and tears shed over people "struggling" over "marriage and the whole same-sex topic." The result? An admonition to "avoid...language, symbols, and situations that are more divisive than unifying." Boiled down, this is the "all lives matter" response to "Black Lives Matter." As an example of divisive language, Holland speaks of a student (slightly hypothetically by using the word "if") who commandeered "a graduation podium intended to represent everyone...to announce his personal sexual orientation." The mentioned valedictorian shared his speech here--he does indeed make a focused point of disclosing his identity, but spends the overwhelming majority of the time speaking of shared experience and struggle in completing a course of study...which is kind of the thing you talk about at graduation. This speech Holland used as an example of a step down a slippery slope of "eventually anything goes."
Many of the faithful appear to start paying attention in the following portion, where Elder Holland declares his love for the LGBTQ community, decrying how the "world has been unkind" to them. However, Christ never told anyone "you are exempt from keeping my commandments." This commandment, of course, is the Church's requirement that the LGBTQ faithful keep their vows of celibacy. Holland then bemoans that people in the BYU community have inflicted friendly musket fire on "students and the parents of students" by being too confusing with their "flag-waving and parade-holding" on the LGBTQ issue. "There are better ways to...show empathy and understanding for everyone while maintaining loyalty to prophetic leadership." I'm not entirely sure what that looks like--a flag that says "We Love LGBTQ and Remember Celibacy"? One would think that just the first three words should suffice, but it appears that it is confusing and doesn't show loyalty. Frankly, I don't see how it is possible to follow this admonition without undermining both empathy and understanding for LGBTQ people and support for Church policy's severe constraints on them.
Elder Holland pivots to talk more of BYU's unique mission, and how important it is for the school to maintain its position as a leading "undergraduate teaching institution that is unequivocally true to the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ." Ultimately, I used the school for more than that--I utilized its research arm to further my education and even fund it. For me, this was the real springboard into a career. The following statement from Holland is what shocked me: "If at a future time that mission means foregoing some professional affiliations and certifications, then so be it." I can only think of one issue that could potentially jeopardize BYU's status as an educational institution. I struggle with the idea that the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ requires a separate caste for LGBTQ people. I struggle even greater with the idea that Church policy is so strict and ironclad that leadership is willing to torpedo BYU's "professional affiliations and certifications" over this issue. How can BYU be a leading teaching institution if employers and organizations do not value the diplomas its alumni carry? Where would graduates "go forth to serve" except an insulated community in this condition?
Why am I making such hay over the "law of chastity" when it concerns LGBTQ people? Well, I know from personal experience how the Church treats its single people, which is the larger class of members expected to be celibate under the "law of chastity." With the exception of my mission, this decade of my adult life was filled with constant exhortations from Church leadership to escape the single caste and enter a heterosexual marriage. Generally, it was something I wanted anyway, so I didn't have an enormous problem with it, although the constant prodding and nagging was exhausting. Now imagine if you will, if a heterosexual marriage was not something I wanted, or even more, if I wanted a same-sex marriage. Imagine hearing for years Church leaders urging something for your peers that they expressly forbid for you.
My immediate reaction to this address by Elder Holland was disappointment, followed by sorrow--I no longer can recommend my children attend the same university that my parents and I attended. I'm not sure BYU can maintain the highest level of quality education if the school's credibility is expressly not a priority. I suppose that shows that I value a quality education above orthodoxy to the Church, if I were forced to choose. The problem is that you shouldn't be forced to choose...plenty of members of the Church attend other universities and maintain their testimonies and adherence to the commandments.
Anyway, I'm bouncing from topic to topic. You may have heard the negative reactions, which are many. These are some takes that I've heard from an active LDS community:
"It's mostly because certain folks are looking for reasons to be mad. They'd rather put all their effort into finding faults to validate their biases."
I certainly wasn't awaiting Elder Holland's talk at BYU or a reason to be upset. He could have just as easily asked faculty not to speak out against the Church, restate the Church's LGBTQ position, and the talk would likely not have even caught my attention. Also, I had always felt Holland was one of the most compassionate leaders--the military metaphors juxtaposed with LGBTQ orthodoxy was a shock to the system.
"TL;DR some of the comments could be construed as problematic. But I think it’s ultimately a lot of twisting Holland’s words."
I doubt it's much of a twist to say that Holland doesn't want BYU faculty participating in "flag-waving and parade-holding" because it could be construed as promoting LGBTQ lifestyles.
"People are going to be mad that the apostles say we ought to follow the commandments and not engage in same sex relations.
People are going to be mad that the apostles say we ought to follow the commandments and be kind to one another."
A bit of gaslighting here, pointing the "unkind" label on people who are not pleased with the Church's policy towards LGBTQ people. Should people not be mad that the commandment per Church policy is LGBTQ must live as monks/nuns? I think people are allowed to feel what they feel...but I'm just a guy.
"tl;dr People want "Prophets" (influencers, leaders, etc.) that don't challenge their gluttonous fulfilment of the natural man. They want to be told God guarantees them riches and salvation so they can partake in their desires in all the lives therein and to come without any of the grunt work to earn it."
So...now we're getting Biblical/BookofMormonical. Are there people that like flattering words that confirm their existing beliefs? Er...a lot of people in the Church fit that description. Nice conflation of LGBTQ attitudes as gluttony...or sloth.
"You've gotta have your head planted firmly in the depths of your colon to not see Holland's tears and hear the abundant compassion and empathic pains he carries for the LGBTQ+ members of the church"
I am sure Elder Holland cares deeply about the LGBTQ members of the Church. He sees them like he sees people who are addicted to gambling or illegal substances. That they are people with struggles and challenges to be overcome. It is true, we all have our own personal challenges in life living God's commandments. When it becomes one's own identity that is on the edge of transgression...it's a bit of a different category.
Like I've said before, I'm just a guy. I don't have the authority to speak God's will to all people. I can only speak for myself. I feel like Christ's commandment to "love thy neighbor as thyself" is simple enough to include people of all attitudes, all tendencies, all faiths, all lifestyles. If a man finds joy and fulfillment in a marriage to another man, I can love them and rejoice in their joy. Why would I need to condemn them?
