Message from the Directors
October 2009
More Than Tolerance
By Jeff Bennion
Though I am not an engineer, in my professional and academic background, I was immersed in many engineering concepts. So at risk of sounding like a nerd, I have to admit that whenever I hear the word "tolerance" I first think of it in an engineering context.
In engineering, tolerance accounts for imperfections and flaws. Engineers design a material or building with an inherent safety factor, so that it can survive a certain degree of flaws or unexpected strain, and when they do fail, they hopefully fail in a way that is not catastrophic.
But tolerance is only one factor engineers take into account. Silly putty, for instance, is a very tolerant substance. Despite that, no skyscraper that I know of uses silly putty as one of its structural components. To be functional and effective, buildings must also be strong, withstand the elements, and bear up under stress and strain.
Likewise, in our personal interactions, especially in the Church, we ought to strive for more than mere tolerance. When I go to Church, I don't just want to be tolerated by my fellow Latter-day Saints. I want to be loved and understood. While I am sure that I do cause strain to others sometimes, I don't want to just be an irritation, I want to be a blessing. I want to make valuable contribution to the Kingdom of God. And perhaps most importantly, as a result of my membership in the Church, I want to become a better person. While I know I have flaws, I don't want them just to be accepted and accounted for, I want them (eventually) to be removed altogether.
When I read in the scriptures how the state of community is described among the Church of Jesus Christ, for instance in Moroni 6:6, Mosiah 18, and Alma 26, the first word that leaps to mind is not toleration. Instead, words like unity, love, strength, resolve, forgiveness, and repentance seem more apt. These communities are not free of sorrow and tribulation, opposition or persecution, but their joy is even greater.
Of course, in our dealings with people outside the Church, those who do not necessarily share, or even appreciate our values, the challenge becomes greater. Can we coexist with people who have very different values and priorities from our own?
The Founding Fathers of the United States, as well as our own revealed scripture, enshrine the right of an individual to believe as he or she wishes. These are usually referred to as freedom of conscience (or religion) and freedom of speech. All of us, this thinking goes, should be free to advocate for our own system of values, and even criticize the values of others.
In a recent speech at BYU Idaho, Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve expressed his concerns that these values of freedom of conscience and speech are under attack. "The greatest infringements of religious freedom occur when the exercise of religion collides with other powerful forces in society," he said. "Among the most threatening collisions in the United States today are (1) the rising strength of those who seek to silence religious voices in public debates, and (2) perceived conflicts between religious freedom and the popular appeal of newly alleged civil rights."
Elder Oaks gave several examples of these threats, from courageous civil rights campaigners in Mongolia, to attempts to silence, blacklist, and economically punish Latter-day Saints who supported Proposition 8 in California.
While North Star itself is not a political organization and does not engage in political advocacy of any kind, we nevertheless strongly support the right of anyone to speak out on issues important to them. And that right certainly extends to the LDS Church, and its leaders whom the leadership of North Star unanimously sustains, without reservation. In like fashion, we (and Elder Oaks himself is careful to point this out as well) do not object to people who disagree with the Church's position on this issue (or any other issue) to do so vigorously and vocally. It is only when those actions become attempts to silence, intimidate, punish, or vandalize that Elder Oaks (and we) object, and we would object to that even if those doing so held a position we agree with.
Many of us uncomfortably collide with these very same issues on a deeply, painfully personal level. While our actions may not get as much attention as those of Elder Oaks and his public detractors, they are equally important. They may be with our friends, neighbors, and family members. Or the conflict may take place entirely within the mind and heart of a single anguished and divided individual. How we handle this conflict will be a strong indication of how well we are true disciples of Christ, and how far we may have yet to go. How we handle our own doubts, or how we handle the doubts of others as they are expressed to us, can be a crucial determinant in whether that person draws closer to the truths of the Gospel, or is driven further away from them.
It is most tragic of all when this duty to defend the Church and one's own honor and faith falls upon those who are least equipped to do so. Instead of polished spokespeople or experienced and highly intelligent leaders, sometimes this responsibility falls on the young, the inexperienced, or those suffering and isolated with their own doubts and fears. Where these people need wise and experienced hands to guide them, and strong and broad shoulders to support them, all too often, they must bear the burden alone.
This situation is poignantly captured in Jonathan Langford's recently published novel No Going Back (Zarahemla Books, 2009). It depicts a young Latter-day Saint coming to grips with his own homosexual feelings. The fictional main character, named Paul Ficklin, is looking for support and help understanding this difficult issue as he comes to terms with his own same-sex attraction. Despite his Bishop's reservations, Paul decides to attend his High School's Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA) Club. This decision has catastrophic consequences for him, morally and socially. Just as he is uncomfortable talking about his homosexual feelings with his LDS friends and family, he soon discovers that he is equally uncomfortable talking about his deep-seated Mormon faith with his friends at the Gay-Straight Alliance. He explains his reasons for attending this way:
"I was just hoping [to] find some kind of balance. Some way I could stay in the church and do what I'm supposed to do, but still spend time with people who understand what it feels like… who won't get all freaked out about me liking guys. Someplace I wouldn't have to pretend" (p. 211).
He ultimately fails to find that understanding at the GSA. As the political controversy around gay marriage heats up around these young people, his fellow GSA members begin telling Paul that his Mormon faith is wrong, and that his Church must change or he must renounce it. They tell him that he cannot be happy by denying himself of acting on his homosexual feelings. He responds with the eternal perspective that only the Gospel can provide:
"Even if people are gay in this life, we don't believe they have to be gay in the next life... [T]he person I am at the most basic level, isn't really gay at all, no matter what it might seem like in this life. After we're dead and then resurrected, even if we've been gay in this life, we'll have the opportunity to be normal and straight later on... It's not a matter of denying my feelings, it's a matter of believing that there's more to who I am than whether I'm attracted to guys right now" (p. 216).
That's not exactly how I'd put it, but it's pretty good for a 15-year-old under attack. His classmates ultimately do not accept his point of view (as his best friend Chad puts it, "Dude... open-mindedness about other people isn't really what the GSA is about. What they're looking for is open-mindedness about themselves" (p. 210).). But before leaving the GSA for good, Paul has one final opportunity to bear his testimony to them, and as he does so, he feels the warmth of the Spirit washing over him, and his testimony is strengthened even further.
All of us will have opportunities to bear our testimonies around eternal truths, and sometimes in hostile territory. Though it may be awkward, if we speak what we know to be true, with courage and love, other hearts may be touched as we do so. Even if they are not, our own faith and testimony will be strengthened.
Elder Oaks' talk does not end with a ringing endorsement of freedom of religion and speech. He makes five suggestions for how we Latter-day Saints should conduct ourselves in standing up for religious values with those hostile to them. First among them is love, patience, compassion, and understanding. Similarly, our duty to people dealing with feelings of hurt and isolation around same-sex attraction does not end with us bearing testimony to them that homosexual behavior is wrong. That is only the beginning.
In the novel, Paul finds very mixed support from his fellow Latter-day Saints. He is blessed with a loving and wise Bishop, as well as an understanding mother and best friend. At the same time, Paul must endure taunts, gossip, attacks on his character, and worst of all, shunning, from people who should know better. It breaks my heart when I read of real-life people being attacked when they should be loved, people being shunned when they should be embraced, and having their character assassinated when they should be defended. When someone is standing up for what is right, when someone is doing his or her best, we should not mindlessly attack or impugn his or her motives. If we have disagreements, we should first affirm our common loyalties and testimonies, and then, in a spirit of love, offer correction or guidance to the individual directly and not, as happens in the book, behind the person's back.
Furthermore, what Paul really yearns for, that his Bishop, his mother, and even his best friend cannot offer is the kind of understanding that only comes from dealing with the issue first hand. That is what Paul yearns for, and what hundreds of other Latter-day Saints I have met yearn for as well. That is why we started North Star, and what I hope we can better accomplish. I might not agree with everything in the book, and I may wish some of the characters had dealt with this issue differently than they did, I feel it is likely that Jonathan Langford has described an all-too-common experience. That is an experience I hope, through our efforts, becomes less and less common.
We want people touched by this issue—whether they deal with it themselves or someone they love does—to find here a place of understanding and support, from a faithful perspective. There is actually a broad spectrum of potential ways of dealing with this issue, customized to our individual circumstances. That may involve therapy or it may not, and there are a number of potential therapies that an individual may choose to pursue. But our testimonies leave us with the solid conviction that regardless of whether someone is able to eliminate all same-sex attractions, so long as he or she keeps his or her covenants, and repent when they do not, they have just as much of a place in the Kingdom as anyone else. We testify that this Church is led by the Lord's chosen servants. And I believe that the highest and best test of that faith is how we treat the poor, the downtrodden, and the rejected (see Matthew 25:38). Above all, we hope this is a path no one feels like he or she must tread alone.