Talk about Us

"Friends at Church" by J. Kirk Richards

I walked off the stand after teaching a fifth Sunday lesson in my ward on ministering to LGBTQ Latter-day Saints. I’d given many similar lessons in other wards, interweaving personal stories with resources from the Church. But this was the first time I’d ever spoken in my own ward, with the people I worshipped with every Sunday. 

As I descended the final step, a member of the bishopric rushed over to me and wrapped me in a big bear hug. With his arms hugging me tight he said, “I’m so glad my kids get to grow up in a ward you are a part of.” 

I wish every LGBTQ Latter-day Saint could feel as loved as I felt in the moment. 

However, I am noticing a troubling trend. While I was invited to share my experiences, and praised and thanked for doing so, many others are being encouraged to stay silent. Here are some examples I’ve heard just this year: 

A bisexual man came out to his mother-in-law. Her response was, “I wish you hadn’t said anything. This is the kind of secret you’re meant to take to your grave.” 

A gay woman came out to her sister. The sister responded, “I love you and I hope you’ll keep your covenants. And please don’t tell my children or our siblings. It will just confuse them.” 

A stake Primary presidency member felt that it was time to come out. She was tired of hiding and just wanted to be able to talk about the realities of her life. But she chose not to tell anyone in her ward or stake. She said to me, “It’s Satan who commands us to hide. But if I tell people, I’ll get released from this calling I love.” 

A gay man married to a woman was applying for a job at a CES school. He came out to a friend who works for the school who said, “Don’t come out to anyone else. If the school knows you’re gay, they’ll never hire you.” 

This is just a handful of the stories I’ve heard of people being afraid to share, or encouraged to stop sharing when they come out. I am confident that these friends and loved ones were acting out of the best of intentions and were simply trying to protect their loved one. But instead of protection, the loved one feels rejected. These comments further steep them in shame and fear. 

On the flip side, in the last six months I’ve heard some extremely positive responses when someone has come out. Here are a few. 

A gay man in his 20s wrestled for months about whether to come out to his siblings. He wanted to tell them, but worried that they would judge him because he knew their beliefs about homosexuality. When he couldn’t hold it any longer, he came out to them in a group text. Each of the siblings told him that they love him and that this changes nothing. Some even apologized for not making it easier for him to tell them. And then one of his brothers said he wanted to learn more and asked what books he could read. He told me afterwards, “It’s nice that I don’t have to worry anymore.” 

A gay man who works for the Church came out unexpectedly in a work meeting. He hadn’t planned on doing it and was immediately nervous about what this disclosure meant for his career. Would he be fired? Would he still be eligible for promotions? Later his supervisor said, “Your job here is secure. You are loved and respected and we want you to stay. I’ve got your back.” 

A YSA ward Relief Society president came out to her bishop who was genuinely surprised. He said he wanted to understand her experience better and invited her to have dinner with him and his wife. The three talked for hours. Towards the end of the conversation the wife said, “I am inspired by your faith. You have taught me so much tonight.” And the bishop added, “We are so blessed to have you in our ward. Other members in our ward are going through similar things and you will be an invaluable resource.” 

Instead of rejection, these people were met with curiosity, gratitude, and offers of protection. They each entered these conversations nervous and left feeling more confident and loved. LGBTQ Latter-day Saints need more reactions like these. 

Step into our shoes for a moment and ponder some of the complexities we’re thinking about:

• What do I gain from coming out? 

• What do I risk from coming out? 

• What do I gain by staying in the closet? 

• What do I risk by staying in the closet? 

Coming out is a deeply personal choice, and if someone chooses not to disclose this part of their lived experience, that is perfectly okay. They know what is best for them and we can trust them to know how to live their lives. But if someone has made the choice to come out and they are told that sharing that part of themselves is wrong or problematic, they almost inevitably experience rejection and an increase in shame. 

There is a simple thing that anyone can do to decrease the shame and rejection LGBTQ Latter-day Saints feel.

Talk about us. 

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland gave a really great example of how Church members can do this in his October 2015 General Conference address “Behold Thy Mother.” (I know that he gave a later address to a much smaller audience at BYU that complicates what I’m about to share, but that’s a topic for a different post. Right now I want to focus on how he talked to the worldwide Church.) 

The topic of Elder Holland’s talk was the love of mothers, not LGBTQ people. And yet in that talk he shared this, “I speak of a young man who entered the mission field worthily but by his own choice returned home early due to same-sex attraction and some trauma he experienced in that regard. He was still worthy, but his faith was at crisis level, his emotional burden grew ever heavier, and his spiritual pain was more and more profound. He was by turns hurt, confused, angry, and desolate.” And then Elder Holland spoke about the boy’s mother, “She fasted and wept, she wept and fasted, and then she listened and listened as this son repeatedly told her of how his heart was breaking.” 

And then he added this beautiful line, “And, I must say, this son’s sexual orientation did not somehow miraculously change—no one assumed it would.” 

I remember sitting on a couch at a friend’s house in Tucson watching this talk live and my phone exploding with texts. Many of my gay friends texted me in joyful shock at what had just been said to the worldwide Church. He had talked about someone like us! An Apostle had just said that a man with same-sex attraction was worthy, was loved, and no one expected him to change. Our hearts soared that day. 

If an Apostle can talk about a mom having a gay child in General Conference, then a mom with a gay child should feel comfortable talking about her family at church in a way that is appropriate for that setting. If an Apostle can talk about the struggles of a Church member who experiences same-sex attraction from the pulpit, surely those of us who experience same-sex attraction should feel confident talking about our experiences from the pulpit too. 

And if an Apostle can share an LGBTQ story in a talk about mothers, surely we can do the same in talks about faith, the plan of salvation, the Book of Mormon, and almost any other topic in a way that doesn’t distract from Christ and His gospel. 

So here’s my invitation. When you share a story in a talk or a Sunday School comment about faith or prayer or hope or any other gospel principle, please include a story about an LGBTQ person when you feel inspired to do so. And if you don’t know any stories like that, there are books and podcasts and friends and neighbors galore you could learn from. 

All over the Church there are people who are lonely, scared, and hiding because of the simple reality of their lives. My friends and I were deeply touched when Elder Holland mentioned people like us in General Conference. In like manner, there are people in your ward who will be buoyed up if you share a story about someone like them. 

So talk about us. 

Our stories matter. Your story matters. And I want to learn your story and talk about you too.