If the Bishop would have asked me to speak on this topic even just five years ago, I would have jumped at the chance. 25 years ago, I would have been on my mission in Mexico, and I would have been begging to share my thoughts on what I believed with anyone who would listen. This, however, is not the case today. I come to you with much tenderness in my heart, and a prayer that my message will be received with love and an open heart.
Belief had always come easy for me. The church and all that it entailed was my bread and butter. It all made sense. It all fit. Any questions that I might have struggled with were often answered by a conference talk or a quick search in the scriptures or placed on the proverbial shelf. Of course, we had trials… big and painful trials. But in these trials, I found comfort and peace in places like the temple and the simple routine of attending my meetings and serving in my callings. But something happened to us a little over four years ago that forever changed my faith. My faith is no longer wide and all encompassing. It is narrow. It is nuanced. It is much more personal, and much more sacred to me. It is no longer the mountain I had once thought it to be. It is back to its seed like innocence and requires much tending and care.
With permission from my son, I’d like to share with you where my new faith journey began. A little over four years ago, I was in the Primary Presidency and was placed in charge of the Primary Program. On the morning of, we were home and I was going over all of the possible mishaps that might occur. I had a backup plan if someone didn’t show up. I had a backup plan if someone got stage fright and clammed up at the mic. I had a backup plan for my back up plans. I was ready. In the craziness of that morning, I noticed my son Deacon, who was 13 at the time, sitting outside by himself on the porch. I could sense a heaviness about him. He had not been himself as of late. He was more quiet, withdrawn, and had a sadness about him. I pulled him into my room and asked him what was wrong. He looked at me for a long time, not saying anything, tears welling in his eyes, a pained look on his face, afraid to speak. Afraid to voice his truth. It was as if time slowed. I knew what he wanted to tell me. I knew what he was going to say. And tears pricked at my eyes too. And I whispered. “You can just say it. Just say it.” And he sobbed. “Mom, I’m gay.”
What followed was a whirlwind of emotion. I hugged him. I kissed him. I told him I loved him always. We called Todd in and hugged together, and reassured him that our love was not conditional. We briefly touched on what would be required of him if he chose to stay in the church, and his response was heartbreaking: “Mom, I don’t want to be alone.” We only had a moment to digest this new reality and then we were off to church, off to the primary program. I was a zombie that day. I went through the motions robotically, pasted on a smile, and led the children through their songs about families and temples and their talks on Jesus and baptism. It was all a blur, and then we were back home.
The months that followed were filled with long heartfelt conversations and hours of study and time spent praying. I was overwhelmed with the statistics I found for LGBTQ youth: 84% report verbal harassment at school. LGBTQ kids are 8 times more likely to attempt suicide, and they make up 40% of homeless youth today.
I was saddened to hear the stories of LDS kids being kicked out of their homes, or rejected by family members claiming their “sin” would not be tolerated. How could this be? How could the teachings of the church I love be causing these kids so much pain? My foundation was cracked... and I was stumbling along looking for answers.
Todd and I signed up for a weekend getaway with a group called Mormons Building Bridges. This group was founded with the intent to create bridges between the LDS faith and the LGBTQ community. About 14 of us met together in a beautiful home in Salt Lake City. I was hoping to be taught, to have someone answer all my questions. I was ready for someone else to tell me what to do. Instead, I was given 48 hours to think. There were no lectures, no easy answers. No one there to tell me that everything would be ok. Just a moderator who led a few open discussions on faith, the church and LGBTQ issues. In fact, much of the time was spent alone, pondering, searching, and asking ourselves the questions that needed to be answered. The most important one for me was will I stay in the church?
I had never had to answer that question before. I have never had a reason to leave.
And now, my new reality that my son would not likely ever be in the celestial room with me had shattered one of my greatest hopes and I did not know how to pick up the pieces. The past several months spent researching the history of the church and LGBTQ issues had left me with some pretty deep wounds. There was no great path for my son in the church, and week after week I saw the pain it was causing him. Eventually he asked to stop coming, and the sorrow of having him missing from my bench every week was unbearable. I think I spent six months crying every sacrament meeting.
And so I sat there that night in Salt Lake asking the question over and over, why will I stay? How can I stay? I have two very conflicting beliefs that have no resolution. And the answer finally came from within ... because of Christ. Christ the great Healer. Christ who sat and taught the woman at the well. Christ who spent his time with the marginalized and taught us not to judge. Christ who taught a radical message of love for all, both Jew and gentile, bond and free, black and white, and I would add gay and straight. It is for Him that I stay.
My experience with Deacon has brought me closer to Christ and his love than any other. It has opened my eyes to many other areas of conflict and pain within these walls, quiet heartaches that often go unspoken.
On Tuesdays, I spend my time at the proverbial waters of Mormon hosting a program for parents, grandparents, and other allies of LGBTQ kids at the Encircle home in St. George. The motto is simple — “No sides, only love.” Many of these faithful people are at the painful intersection of the church and LGBTQ issues. I am in awe of their strength and resilience and their desire to choose love. It helps to nurture my seed of faith, to see God’s love in action.
And so we come back to where I started. What do I believe? I believe that God lives. That he loves us dearly. That he sent his son to be the greatest example of love. That he has a purpose for each of his children, and that purpose is not for me to decide. I believe that there is more good than bad. I believe that when we know better, we do better. I believe our LGBTQ children are a light in our world teaching us how to love unconditionally. I believe that we can approach what we don’t understand with Christlike curiosity and he will give us direction. Incidentally, David Archuleta, who sings one of my favorite songs, “Peace in Christ,” came out yesterday on social media. I’ll share a snippet of his words:
“I plead that you be more understanding to people who experience and struggle with things that you may not experience and understand for yourself… If other people choose to live differently than what you’ve been raised to believe is right, please have compassion because it’s most likely been an exhausting journey for them to be ok with the feelings they have and never have been able to change.” I love that. And to those of you in the audience who may need to hear this, happy Pride month. If the Church has hurt you, Christ himself won’t. If the Church has made you feel lonely, Christ himself won’t. If you feel like there is not room for you at church, there is room for you at my pew. #liftandloveathome
Sherine and Todd also welcome to their family pew Beck (9), Cale (11), Finley (13), Tagin (14), Paisley (16), Deacon (17), and Tobin (22), who is married to Ruth, and Cooper (24), from Todd’s first marriage. Triple threat (singer, dancer, actor) Deacon recently finished his training at Diamond Talent Studio in St. George, UT, and this fall will attend the Manhattan School of Music in NYC to study Musical Theatre.
