A Mormon with a Catholic bend...

Since childhood, I have loved the beauty of the Catholic mass and enjoyed choice spiritual experiences kneeling in prayer before the image of Christ crucified and the Altar of the Eucharistic Sacrifice. As a Mormon whose worship tradition eschews high ritual, it is odd that I often feel closer to God within the confines of what many Latter-day Saints still deem to be the territory of the Great and Abominable, than I do in the chapels and temples of the One True Church.

While a friend believes me to be a “closet Catholic” and my former wife has expressed concern that someday I might convert, I’m satisfied with my current position. As I strive to remain faithful to my commitment to Christ and his supernal sacrifice, the instruments I might find along the path of life to make that commitment firm are worthy regardless of where they might be found. In truth, what I suppose to be lacking in Catholic doctrine, I find ennobling in its devotional expression.

I’ve discovered particular strength in the centrality of Christ Jesus in Catholic worship, both in the structure and decoration of the sanctuary and the design and content of the mass itself. The vastness of the worship space, the beauty and tragedy of the icons and glass recounting the Son of God, his ministry and his passion, the mystery of the crucifix and the altar, and the sanctity of the tabernacle which houses Christ’s body and blood awe and inspire.

Letter to a friend: buying furniture, pornography addiction, testimony and obedience (redux)

Last summer I wrote the following letter to a friend. I felt that today might be a good time for a repost of my ripost.

Dear friend:

Getting the email from you yesterday made my day. Thanks for keeping this volley in the air. Now I guess it’s my turn to get the ball back into your court.

Yes, I did spend most of yesterday shopping for furniture. Thankfully I was able to find a bedroom set and a sofa and two chairs for the front room. I’ve still got to locate stuff for the dining room and second bedroom. Because I’m pretty picky about furniture, making a final decision can be agonizing. (Sounds pretty gay, right?) My wife told me last week that one of the things she’s looking forward to as a result of the divorce is selecting furniture without my input. She’ll tell anyone that that is one of the worst things about being married to a gay guy—no final say on what goes where.

I was interested to hear about your pornography addiction.

Getting through a hard phase...

Since seeing the light about TBM several weeks ago, I’ve been overwhelmed with feelings of loneliness and more importantly, this fatalistic fear that the remainder of my life will be spent enveloped in a dark shroud of isolation and meaninglessness.

These feelings are a result of a number of factors exclusive of TBM.

Since coming out and divorcing my wife, my relationship with my children who have all been an integral part of my world has become distant at best. While each child claims to love me and support me, there is no interest on their part in my life and the challenges and joys of being a gay man and little desire to discuss anything about their lives that is deeper than the superficial.

My business, which has historically been exciting and extremely rewarding, has over the last eighteen months crumbled. Economic factors including client bankruptcies, mergers, and significantly reduced budgets coupled with rumors about my personal life have led to an impossibly light portfolio of business—the smallest since I began consulting nearly twenty years ago.

My faith in Heavenly Father, the bedrock of my life, has turned itself upside down. While my testimony of core Gospel principles is as strong as ever, the autocratic, obedience driven religion promulgated by local and general church leaders today stands in stark contrast to Joseph Smith’s sharp focus on agency and the love of Christ, principles which are integral to my own faith. Being a person who prefers to find his way rather than follow a path dictated by men who know little about me and my life, I despair over the attitude that following blindly is more important than contemplation, meditation and personal revelation.

Keep your gay children close....

One of my favorite bloggers is Joanna Brooks. A self-described unorthodox Mormon, Joanna brings an interesting take on issues that often harmonizes with my own unorthodox devotion to the Gospel. Today in her "Ask Mormon Girl" post, she responded thoughtfully with more than a little inspiration to a mother wondering if she should allow her lesbian daughter to come home with her partner.

I was surprised (I guess I wasn't really surprised) by what seemed to me to be ill-informed and even bigoted comments left by several individuals who obviously considered themselves good Christians and exemplary Latter-day Saints.

While it has been difficult for me to write anything of substance lately, I couldn't help but respond to the woman with the honest question and the commentors with the narrow minds. Below is the text of my response.

Bloodied, bruised, but not beaten...

WARNING: THIS POST MAY CONTAIN TOO MUCH DRAMA FOR THE MORE SKEPTICAL READER!

This coming out thing is not an easy process. In many ways, it’s like moving to a foreign country, one in which you are required to learn a new language, a new culture, and establish yourself in an environment that is a little disconcerting at best.

While the difficulty of my transition has been mitigated to an extent by friends who care for me and do what they can to make my life easy, there have been inevitable bumps along the way that have left me with a few scrapes and bruises and perhaps even a broken bone or two.

Fortunately, I have no permanent scars and am recuperating. I’m confident that one day I’ll be as good as new.

The source of my most visible injury is predictable and should have been preventable, but my naivety coupled with confidence (some say arrogance) led to a series of decisions that reminds me of the idiot man who keeps pounding his head, bloodied and lacerated, against the block wall simply because the block wall is there.

And what is my block wall, you ask?

A man. The Butterfly Man, to be exact.

My anniversary...

Today is my anniversary.

Two years ago today I decided that it was time to take the leap, time to crack the closet door, time to let a little fresh air into what had become my dark and stifling existence. Two years ago today I made the decision to step into a world that had beckoned for a lifetime, yet seemed a lifetime away.

Two years ago today I resolved to come out, to leave pretense and affectation behind me, and accept with all the ramifications and consequences life as a gay man.

That decision was the best decision I ever made. Although the transition from the straight world to a bent one was at times intimidating if not frightening, it was also enervating and enlightening. By facing my fears and realizing that in the end, there was actually nothing to fear, I found peace and I became a better man.

While my decision to live an honest life left no small share of shock and heartbreak in its wake, it became a force unto itself that propelled me forward as only inertia can.

And I continue to move forward.

My life today is not what I imagined it would be two years ago. As with all things of value, there is a price that must be paid for living with integrity. The investment, however, has had incredible returns.

I can breathe freely and live without fear. I can be a whole man, complete and unencumbered. I can finally fulfill the measure of my creation as God desires for all of his children.

I understand the meaning of joy.

On suffering and joy...

Yesterday I read a wonderful post by my dear friend Invictus Pilgrim containing an essay by Callan Williams about crucifixion people and resurrection people. I found the article thought provoking.

As Latter-day Saints, we subscribe to Lehi's aphorism, "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy." Unfortunately, we all too often place the emphasis on the "fall" rather than the "joy".

While suffering as a result of the fall is an essential part of our experience ("...there is an opposition in all things. If not so...righteousness could not be brought to pass."), joy is central to our divine nature and our eternal mission.

Just as the resurrection ultimately triumphed over the crucifixion, so joy must ultimately triumph over suffering.

When we learn to find joy in the trials, tedium and minutiae of our lives, we begin to sense that spirit which makes us whole and transforms us and our nature to that which God actually desires for all of his children.

Heavenly Father, I think, intends that each of us endure from time to time our own sense of crucifixion, but if we are to become like him we must ultimately transcend the suffering of the cross and open our hearts to the light and hope of the resurrection.