The Ultimate Act of Faith

Contemplative monks and nuns in today’s world are often looked at in a negative light.  Those of us who live active lives look at the suffering all around us, recall God’s words about giving Him food, shelter, et al., and something inside us rebels against those who, in our view, lock themselves away from the cares of the world.   How dare they live semi-comfortably with a solid roof over their heads and often breathtaking surroundings, while children are being conscripted into armies in Somalia?  How selfish!  Aren’t we all instructed constantly by our teachers, our society, our priests on how we are supposed to give back?  Why are they exempt from that basic pillar of our society?  Give back to the world that has given you so much!

But take a second a reread that last sentence in a Christian light: “give back to the world that has given you so much.”

The world has given us so much?  What has the world given us? “All that is in the world…is not from the Father” (1 John 2:16). “Do not be conformed to the world” (Romans 2:12).  And finally, as Christ Himself said, “If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to this world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you” (John 15:19).

We owe the world nothing.  We owe God everything.  Christ did not merely say “be nice,” but “whatever you did for these least brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). The only reason we owe the world anything is because, and only because, Christ commanded us as such.  It is God who has given us everything.  To claim the world has given us anything disregards the Creator from whom all blessings flow.  God gave us life, light, truth, and every gift that we have.  We owe God everything—not the world.

Of course, for must of us, the Creator calls us to take care of the world of His creation.  It works out quite well for us.  We work at some business, or in government, or perhaps even at a nonprofit (and then we really feel holy).  We tell ourselves this organization is serving God’s creation in some way, and then we happily collect our paychecks every other Friday, donate a few bucks on Sunday to starving kids…somewhere—I can’t remember quite where right now…to calm that annoying voice God put in our hearts we call “conscience,” and then take the rest of the money to go on a well-deserved cruise in the Bahamas. 

For most of us, that’s all God asks, so long as we get rid of any prideful notion that we have somehow “earned” that money through our own merit or that we have any more right to it than our neighbor or the starving children.  Remember, each and every gift we use, down to our perseverance and work ethic, is a gift God chose to give us.  God asks us to direct some of it for the good of His creation, and then, in yet another gift of love, allows us to enjoy our cruises even while His other children starve.

Again, no problem, so long as if God asked, we’d cancel the cruise tomorrow and go work in soup kitchens on the south side of Chicago.  So long as if God asked, we'd cancel the cruise tomorrow and pray for him for 9 days straight.  After all, Paul instructs us to “pray without ceasing” (Thessalonians 5:17), and even three thousand years ago, the Psalmist instructed us to pray 7 times a day (Psalm 119:164).  The contemplative agrees that he cannot turn his back on the world (Thomas Merton has written beautifully about this in his book Contemplative Prayer).  But He is called by God to listen to Paul, and takes literally the Psalmist’s instruction.  He cancelled his life plans to get closer with God. 

Sure, God has called few to this vocation, but it is a vocation that I have come to immensely respect. I spent this past week with the monks at Gethsemani Abbey in Trappist, KT.  I tried to pray with them 7 times daily plus Mass (starting with a vigil at 3:15 A.M.).  I walked around the grounds as a retreatant while they were hard at work, and I could feel the effect on the surrounding area of their 164 years of constant prayer in that location.

Most of all, though, I came to realize that their lives were the ultimate acts of faith.  The rest of our lives are full of acts of faith, sure.—we do say the Creed every Sunday.  However, we all have insurance policies.  We have kids we’ve raised, causes we’ve fought for, people we’ve helped.  And, just in case this God thing doesn’t work out, we can still look back on our lives and know we have a legacy.  We’ve been “productive—” we’ll be remembered. Even the Pope has overseen the largest international charity in the world, and the lowliest priest helps people who are suffering every day.

Contemplatives, however have no such insurance. They have no families.  They haven’t given money to causes.  Sure they show “hospitality” to visitors, but generally that’s the Cross of the Guestmaster, and no one else need really know they’re even there.

If you view contemplatives with the eyes of the world, their lives are of 0 value (literally: with their vows of poverty, their net worth is 0).  Even martyrs, who give “everything” for God, have more: every Martyr is automatically a saint, and is remembered throughout the ages with their own feast day. Not many people mourn the passing of a contemplative.  Name 3 Benedictine monks who you’d pray for if the got sick or died.  How about 3 Cistercians?  Do you know any Carthusian nuns? Bethlehem nuns?  No?   Good—that’s the point.  Merton talks about how the purpose of a monastery or convent is to make contemplatives understand in a visceral sense that we are strangers in a strange land called earth.   It’s a rare stranger who gets a eulogy.

A contemplative takes Paul and the Psalmist’s words very seriously.  Their whole life’s purpose is devoted to getting closer to God.  They have no back up plan, and no one outside their individual cloister will remember them when they die.

We cannot help but look at them, and think that they are fools. 

And they are fools—fools for Christ. 

Especially if there is no Christ.

This week, I saw many men living out this ultimate act of faith every day.  I knew hardly any of their names, but I saw every day a faith lived out without excuses, without insurance policies, without advertizing.  And I ask myself, and you, what do we do for God’s sake and His alone?  What do we do that, without Him, would be meaningless.

Whatever it is, that’s what we should be doing more.

Sisters

This past week, I took a camping trip with my sister up to Niagara Falls (graduation gift).   My sister and I have always been really close, but we get busy, and taking trips like this allow us the moment to take a step back and reconnect.

My sister’s one of the people who has influenced me most in my life: I started piano lessons because she started piano lessons.  I started gymnastics because she started gymnastics.  The list goes on.  Despite the fact we see talk to each other way less than we should, and see each other even less, This week, we kept surprising ourselves with similarities—the same reactions (literally saying the same thing at the same time), ordering the same food at a restaurant never having discussed it. 

But that doesn’t mean we don’t have plenty of differences.  She’s always been the adventurous one, the social one, the athletic one.  I tended to stick to my books and my piano.  She’s a high school English teacher, while I’m studying to go into law.

The Bible doesn’t really abound with many stories of older sisters.  But one exception is a story I particularly love.  It’s about Miriam, Moses’ older sister.   When Moses’ mother saved his life by literally setting him adrift down the Nile, Miriam kept watch over him.  After the Israelites had left Egypt, Miriam (by now referred to as a prophet) grabbed a tambourine and led the singing and dancing, composing a victory song to the Lord on the spot. 

I see a lot of my sister in Miriam: protective, charismatic, fun-loving, and creative.  Most of all, though, she is an inspiration to me.  The stories she can tell about the impact she has had in the lives of her students even in just two years of teaching can make me rethink my plans to Save the World through my Law Degree.  She reaches out and connects with all sorts of people on an individual level in a way I never will be able to.  Above all, though, she challenges me on a personal level.  Sometimes, that means getting me to more completely experience a waterfall in Hawaii by climbing it when I would have been perfectly content taking a few pictures.  Other times, it’s getting me to go to a club I might otherwise be a bit leery about going to, or introducing me to sets of people I would have never struck up a conversation with on my own.  It’s through the new experiences like these that I am challenged and can really grow as a person.

It’s so easy to get comfortable, surround yourself with people who think the same as you, and coast through plans that you came up with several years ago.  It’s easy to condemn people who act differently than you as cowards, fools, immoral, etc., all so you don’t have to deal with your own views and beliefs being challenged.  But my sister never lets me do that, and instead has taught me to look for the Christ in them, and the wisdom that they may have—however different it is from my assumptions. 

Aristotle always thought that the highest form of friendship was the one in which friends inspire each other to be better people.  I think the same thing might apply to family, and I’m thankful for the blessing that my sister is for me every day.

An Open Letter to the Leadership Conference of Women Religious

Dear Srs. Deacon, Farrell, and Zinn:

I am writing to express my solidarity with the LCWR during this time while it is in dialogue with the Church in this aftermath of the doctrinal Assessment.  I was praying for you during your meeting these last few days, and was pleased to read of your intent to engage the Church in dialogue over its objections to some of the theological views of your Sisters the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith found in its doctrinal assessment released this past April.

I was very active these past four years in my campus ministry as a student at Duke University, and I plan on continuing when I begin law school at the end of the month.  Unsurprisingly on a University campus, I encountered many Catholics who had many questions and struggles with the Catholic faith, which the current official explanations were insufficient to allay.  I myself struggle with numerous Church doctrines, and have taken all means I have seen possible to inform my conscience.  (Indeed, after I complete my J.D., I am seriously considering applying for a theology degree.).  Yet, the ecclesiastical hierarchy seems increasingly hard of hearing with respect to any sensus fidelium (Lumen Gentium 12), and the ability of our primary “teachers of the faith…and pastors”—our  Bishops—and their ability to “seek out men and both request and promote dialogue with them“ nearly impossible with so many other demands on their time (Christus Dominus 2, 11).

You and your Sisters are an inspiration for us Catholics in whom God has planted an invitation to engage with our faith at a deeper level.  As Sister Pellegrino of the Sisters of St. Joseph said at your conference, your use of dialogue can “model something different for our culture, for our politic, and for the Mystical Body of Christ.”  We are indeed one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.  However, our call to oneness must always be understood in the context of our catholic universality, and the authority of apostolic succession must be understood that holiness is granted to the whole Church—all “the holy people of God”—not merely those who have received the sacrament of Holy Orders.

Mary, who was no priest, had perhaps the most direct revelation of God’s Word of any man or woman who has ever lived.  Yet she needed no permission by either the religious authorities of her time or by Joseph for her to say yes to God’s call, or for her obedience to God’s authority in heaven to result in a worldwide renewal of faith.   I pray for Mary’s intercession on your case—that the Star of Wisdom and Comfort of the Afflicted may stand by you and strengthen you for what must be a trying time.

Thank you for all you do, and please know that I am continually praying for the success of your effort.

In Christ,

Shane 

The Correct Resolution

This past Wednesday, I was able to see the Venezuelan-American pianist Gabriela Montero perform at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s (CSO) summer home at Ravinia, just north of Chicago.  After her performance of the Grieg Piano Concerto—an old favorite of mine—she took a tune unfamiliar to both me and her that a random audience member sung for her and improvised on it.  (For the musically-inclined: she added counterpoint to a random melody on the spot.)  

Improvisation, or making up music as you go along, is normally strictly the realm of jazz pianists, but Montero has made a name for herself by creating improvisations based on well-known (or less well known) tunes suggested to her by the audience.  She does it with all sorts of music:  a Classical/Baroque Happy Birthday, Rachmaninoff’s 3^rd piano concerto à la Bach or à la jazz, a Romanticized national anthem of Scotland, and a latinized Harry Potter.

Certainly, if you transcribed Montero’s improv, it probably wouldn’t satisfy music theory professors who critique composers who spent years on their compositions.  But my jazz piano teacher in High School always said there is no wrong note in improvisation. Whatever note you play is the right one, no matter how weird it sounds to the ear. The trick, though, is how you “resolve” the note you just played.  If your note was dissonant, building tension or perhaps downright discomfort in the listener, do you relieve that tension with a harmonic note, or purposely build it up further for a later release?  The true art of improvising is making that choice deliberately and correction.  So “There is no wrong note in improv—just incorrect resolutions.”

This makes me think of how God works in our lives.  In his allegory, “The Music of the Ainur” from The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien describes the act of God’s creation as that of a composer directing His musicians (angels) in improvised variations on His theme.  Tolkien writes of God as the master improviser and composer, while the Devil attempts to insert His own themes and creations over and above God’s.  Eventually, there are two clearly different musics being played at once. God’s “was deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came,” while the Devil’s was “loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated; and it had little harmony, but rather a clamorous unison of many trumpets braying upon a few notes.”  While the Devil’s music might try to drown out God’s by sheer force of violence, somehow “its most triumphant notes were taken by [God’s] and woven into [God’s music’s] own solemn pattern.”

I’m always skeptical of the “it’s all in God’s plan” reassurances when things are going rough.  It’s hard to look at the Aurora shootings and say “Yup, God’s plan at work.  Isn’t it beautiful?” It seems loud.  And vain.  And endlessly repeated.

So instead of being endlessly distracted by the discord, I started looking for God’s resolutions, for no matter what notes the Devil may insert, the Master Improviser could certainly resolve them in a way to make even the most ugly act a part of a beautiful composition.  Then, I read this article a friend had sent me a few days after the shootings, and I realized that here was just one small example of God doing just that, and I saw in a moment of resolution a piece of God’s grace.

God gave us free will, and as a result, a lot of things against His law happen.  And it is so easy to allow the Devil’s dissonance to crowd out God’s melody of grace and hope.  Those of us forced to live with the discord can only strive to make sure that we don’t cause it and have the faith to look for those moments of resolution, for in those moments, we find not only grace, but hope.  And not only does hope save us, but with faith, perhaps God will begin to call on us to be a vehicle of hope to another person.  And that is the greatest gift of all.

A Weed Solution?

The article I mentioned in last week’s post has made me think a lot.  This is my response to it, so if you haven’t read it, I recommend clicking here and reading the story of Josh Weed, a gay Mormon married to a straight woman. 

Weed is careful to describe his experience of homosexuality by his attraction to men.  He notes, “Sexual orientation is defined by attraction, not by experience. ”  The latter part is true.  Or at least I hope so—else I’ve lied every time I’ve said I’m gay.  And certainly same-sex attraction is a pretty good indicator of someone’s sexuality. However, I do not think that for myself or for most gays and lesbians, “attraction” completely covers what it means to be gay or lesbian.  For me, being gay means I get crushes on and fall in love with men the same way many of my straight friends fall in love with women.  Perhaps this distinction between same-sex attraction and same-sex love is why I’ve found general the only people who stick to the term “homosexual” are those who are somehow uncomfortable around it.  Those more familiar with us “homosexuals” realize it goes deeper than just sex, or just physical attraction. 

Thus, Weed, though he may feel same-sex attraction, is not gay in the same way I feel I am gay.  One can be guided by something he points out in this beautiful quote:

“When sex is done right, at its deepest level it is about intimacy.  It is about one human being connecting with another human being they love.  It is a beautiful physical manifestation of two people being connected in a truly vulnerable, intimate manner because they love each other profoundly.  It is bodies connecting and souls connecting.”    

First, I would like to note his lack of emphasis on physical attraction in this quote.  This lack of focusing on merely physical attraction is at the heart of the Catholic conception of love and marriage.   John Paul II, in his Theology of the Body (47:2), reminds us that according to Plato, eros is the internal desire for towards everything good, which lifts man up to the divine (Symposium 205d, 211).  However, it’s more than just that.  JP II teaches, “man becomes the image of God…in the moment of communion—“ the moment of sexual intercourse (10:3).  However, humans acting in lust “no longer seem to express the spirit which aims at personal communion.  They remain only an object of attraction” (TOB 32:1). 

If Weed’s homosexuality remains limited to mere same-sex attraction, to act on it would indeed be sinful lust.  He does not see man and cry out in the “first time joy and even exaltation” of Genesis 2:23 of finding his “second self” (TOB 9:4). 

I have not experienced Weed’s separation of love and attraction.  Indeed, if it is possible to separate the “mutual attraction” John Paul II writes about as intrinsic to conjugal love elsewhere in TOB, and sex, it seems to me to be inconsistent with how JP II understood his Theology of the Body (though, admittedly, so is applying the idea of the love JP II writes about to same-sex relations).   Regardless, in this case I shall assume Weed has a greater understanding of his own personal experience than I do.  However, though members of Church may be tempted to prescribe the Weed solution to all their gay friends, I assure you, to do so would be to disrespect their self-understanding, and indeed the nature of love our late Pope set down that has been dominating Catholic thoughts on sexuality of late.

In any case, I want to end on a different note.  Since the whole Chick-Fil-A debate has flared this week, I wish I could write a post on it.  However, since I have gone on long enough about LGBT stuff, I want to leave you this last piece of food for thought on the human effect of the debate over LGBT status.  Please focus less on the chicken, and more on the meat of what he has to say, especially this: 

“…When we rant about the pastor who preaches that gays should be thrown into a concentration camp, we scream out of fear. And our fears are justified -- in the last seven days, a lesbian in Nebraska was carved with a knife, a gay man in Oklahoma was firebombed, and a girl in Kentucky was kicked and beaten -- her jaw broken and her teeth knocked out -- while her assailants allegedly hurled anti-gay slurs at her.”

I urge you in any discussion of LGBT individuals’ religious or civil status to be mindful of the context your words are spoken in.  Even if the above situation is not what is meant to be conjured by your words, it understandably might be.  

Club Unicorn

This week, I  stumbled across an interesting blog post by a blogger named Josh Weed.  In it, he talks about his experience as a homosexual Mormon man, married to the "woman of his dreams."  I thought it is enough a topic of interest that I would post it for you guys for y'all to think about it yourself, and I'll blog a response next week.  The original post can be found here.

Club Unicorn: In which I come out of the closet on our ten year anniversary

Hi guys.

Lolly and I are sitting by a pool in the blazing sun, tanning our Seattle-white skin. We are having the time of our lives. Our kids are being watched by their Aunt Kati and Uncle Blake while we relax, celebrating ten incredible years of marriage.

And, side by side, we are finishing the final details of this post which we have written together over the course of the last month.

This is a different post than what you’re used to seeing here on The Weed. If you are here to laugh and read something light-hearted and fun, you probably want to skip this one. It's long. And it's serious. And I won't be offended by anyone who decides to wait until things get light-hearted again.

This is the post where I tell you that I, Josh Weed, am homosexual.

I need to clarify a couple of things.

First, I think it’s important to clarify that although The Weed is a humor blog, this post is not a joke. This isn’t satire. This is not aimed to get laughs. I promise. This is completely serious, and it is us being completely real and genuine on a subject that is very personal and very dear to our hearts. 

Second, I need to clarify that this post is written from the standpoint of a devout, believing Mormon and addresses topics seen within the Mormon and broader Christian community. Please forgive us if our focus feels unfamiliar, or feels totally incongruent with the rest of the posts on this blog.

I guess the premise of this post is to share that not only am I homosexual, but I’m also a devout and believing Mormon. And that I’m very happily married to a woman, and have been for ten years now.

And for the first time, we’re talking about it publicly.

When we do tell people about this—and we’ve been telling a lot of people lately, so we’ve gotten really practiced at it—they usually have a lot of really good, genuine questions. Here are some of the questions we’re most frequently asked (there really should be an acronym for that—I know! I’ll call it a FAQ!). We hope answering these questions will help you understand how we make sense of this delicate and complicated issue in our lives.

1. Why have you decided to share this information?

We have several reasons for opening up about this part of our lives. First and foremost, my clinical work as a therapist is taking me in the direction of helping clients who struggle to reconcile their sexual orientation with their religious beliefs. I have decided to be open with these clients about my own homosexuality, and in doing so have opened the door to people finding out about this in ways I can't control. Therefore, we thought it would be wise to be the ones who told those we love about this part of our lives. Posting on the blog was the simplest way to make sure that happened as it would be impossible to sit all of the people we have known and loved in our lives down and share this personally. 

The second reason is that the issue of homosexuality is not very well understood. We wanted to add our voice and experience to the dialogue taking place about this very sensitive issue.

Thirdly, I (Josh) feel the desire to be more open regarding this part of my identity. I have found that sharing this part of me allows my relationships with others to be more authentic. It has deepened my friendships and enhanced my interactions, and it has also helped me to feel more accepted by others as it allows others the opportunity to choose to accept me for who I really am. 

2. What do you mean when you say you’re “gay”?

When I say I am gay or homosexual or same-sex attracted (and I use these terms interchangeably, which is a personal decision) I refer specifically to sexual orientation. I am sexually attracted to men. I am not sexually attracted to women. It is very simple. I have many, many years of experience which confirm this to be true, but it’s really as simple as what a girl asked me* in junior high—and I’m sorry if this is a little blunt, but I’ve never found a question that cuts to the heart of the matter more effectively— “so, if everyone in this room took off their clothes, would you be turned on by the girls or the guys?” My answer, which I didn’t say out loud, was unquestionably the guys. And it was unquestionably not the girls. And that still is my answer. It’s really not very complicated. Most people just don’t think about their sexual orientation because they don’t have any reason to.

*Why did a girl ask me that question in junior high? Because a bully actively spread a rumor around the entire school that I was a “woman trapped in a man’s body.” This was unbelievably horrific and traumatizing, and I was harassed every single day about it, often by perfect strangers. I was more effeminate, played the violin, didn’t play sports, was never interested in girls and didn’t hang out with guys, and so people glommed onto that rumor and ruthlessly harassed me for the entire year, culminating in a yearbook filled with breathtakingly insensitive taunts. Being the gay kid is really, really hard in junior high. If you know a gay kid in junior high, give them a hug and tell them you love them. I assure you they could use it.

3. When did you know you were gay?

I knew I was gay when I was 11 or 12. That’s the onset of puberty, when humans begin to feel sexual attractions. For a little while I was waiting for the attraction to girls to set in because that’s what everyone said would happen, but then there was a sinking moment of realization—a thought like “oh, this thing for guys is its replacement.” I told my parents shortly thereafter, when it seemed pretty clear that my sexuality wasn’t playing a trick on me, and the girl thing wasn’t going to happen, but the guy thing was totally happening. I was 13 when I told my dad (a member of the Stake Presidency—which is a lay leader in the Mormon church—at the time). My parents were incredibly loving and supportive, which is part of why I believe I’m so well adjusted today. They deserve serious props for being so loving and accepting—I never felt judged or unwanted or that they wished to change anything about me. That’s part of why I have never been ashamed about this part of myself. (I feel plenty of shame about other irrational things, like the fact that I can’t catch a ball or change a tire (as you may have noticed on the blog)—and I’m working on that stuff because toxic shame isn’t a good thing. But I’ve never been shameful about who I am, or about this feature of me as a critical part of my person, which it is in the same way that sexuality is a critical part of any person.)

4. If you’re married to a woman, how can you really be gay?

This is a really good question and I can see how people can be confused about it. Some might assume that because I’m married to a woman, I must be bisexual. This would be true if sexual orientation was defined by sexual experience. Heck, if sexual orientation were defined by sexual experience, I would be as straight as the day is long even though I’ve never been turned on by a Victoria’s Secret commercial in my entire life. Sexual orientation is defined by attraction, not by experience. In my case, I am attracted sexually to men. Period. Yet my marriage is wonderful, and Lolly and I have an extremely healthy and robust sex life. How can this be?

The truth is, what people are really asking with the above question is “how can you be gay if your primary sex partner is a girl?” I didn’t fully understand the answer to this question until I was doing research on sexuality in grad school even though I had been happily married for almost five years at that point. I knew that I was gay, and I also knew that sex with my wife was enjoyable. But I didn’t understand how that was happening. Here is the basic reality that I actually think many people could use a lesson in: sex is about more than just visual attraction and lust and it is about more than just passion and infatuation. I won’t get into the boring details of the research here, but basically when sex is done right, at its deepest level it is aboutintimacy. It is about one human being connecting with another human being they love. It is a beautiful physical manifestation of two people being connected in a truly vulnerable, intimate manner because they love each other profoundly. It is bodies connecting and souls connecting. It is beautiful and rich and fulfilling and spiritual and amazing. Many people never get to this point in their sex lives because it requires incredible communication, trust, vulnerability, and connection. And Lolly and I have had that from day one, mostly because we weren’t distracted by the powerful chemicals of infatuation and obsession that usually bring a couple together (which dwindle dramatically after the first few years of marriage anyway). So, in a weird way, the circumstances of our marriage allowed us to build a sexual relationship that is based on everything partners should want in their sex-life: intimacy, communication, genuine love and affection. This has resulted in us having a better sex life than most people I personally know. Most of whom are straight. Go fig.

5. Did your wife know you were gay when you married her?

Yes. I told Lolly about my homosexuality when I was 16 and we were on a date. In fact, I recently just wrote a humor post about that day. Here it is: vomit—a story of romance. That may have been the most important day (and was definitely the most important date) of my life. Everything I have in life that I cherish—the love of my life, my career, my education, coming home to three beautiful daughters screaming “Daddy, daddy!” with glee—hinged on that fateful day at Pizza Hut, and on a wonderful girl who was compassionate and open-minded and willing to listen to a young gay kid who was lonely and desperate for a soft landing place and to be heard.

Well…  I’ve actually published an essay which tells the whole story in an anthology published by Deseret Book...

The book was compiled by my friend Ty Mansfield, and my essay is called “An Unlikely Gift” under my old pseudonym, Jason Lockhart. For this post, we've had Lolly tell our story below.

In fact, let's do her question next:

6. Why would your wife choose to marry someone who is gay?

Hey guys. I never thought that the first guest post I wrote on “The Weed” would be talking about how I fell in love with gay Weed. But I definitely want to share my part of our story. So, here it goes. 

I have known Josh and loved him for a very, very long time. We met when we were very small children. We lived on the same street in Utah and his dad was my Bishop (ecclesiastical lay-leader of an LDS congregation). When we were younger, we were acquaintances. In junior high we started eating lunch together and grew to be friends. I found him amusing and I enjoyed being around him. 

After 9^th grade, my family moved to Portland, Oregon. I thought of Josh Weed occasionally but never did anything about it until his family moved to the same city in Oregon two years later. We both thought it would be fun to reconnect, so we went on our first date. 

And that is when Josh told me that he was gay. I was the first person he told, aside from his own parents. I will never forget the look on his face during the first moments of that conversation. From that look, I knew that he was feeling extremely vulnerable in what he had just shared and that what he was dealing with was very hard and very real for him.  Knowing Josh’s beliefs in our church, the first question that came to my mind was “What are you going to do about it?” 

We talked at length that night about the reality of being gay in the Mormon Church.  He told me that he believed in the doctrine of the Church and that he wanted to do what God wanted him to do.  During the course of that conversation, my mind became overwhelmed by the complexities of the issue he was facing. And how alone he felt in facing them. 

I was determined to be an ally and friend to him in regards to this issue.  I can’t even recall all of the conversations we had, but we spent hours and hours over the course of years hammering out what this issue meant in general and what it meant for him. Why was he gay? What did God expect him to do? Etc. 

Josh’s commitment to God was so apparent to me as we discussed the choices ahead of him. My admiration and respect deepened immensely for him. We spent a lot of time together and I loved being with him. Our friendship grew and grew.  And I truly loved him. He told me that he wanted to go on a mission for the church and that he would also like to get married and have a family. I believed that those things were possible for him, but I never thought it would be with me. 

The possibility of us becoming more than friends would come up every now and then, but I would dismiss it quickly. My parents did an amazing job in teaching their children about the proper role of sexuality. In our home, sex was viewed as sacred, enjoyable, and something to look forward to in marriage. I saw the important role that intimacy played in successful marriages and that was one aspect of marriage that I was greatly anticipating. Therefore, in my mind, marrying someone gay was completely out of the question. 

I remember one conversation in particular in which Josh said, “If YOU won’t consider marrying me, then who will?” I responded with, “I’m sure there is someone out there for you. It’s just not me. Maybe you need to find someone who doesn’t care about sex.” He thought that line of thinking was wrong, but I couldn’t think of another solution for him. 

Years continued to pass. Josh’s first year at college, he got a girlfriend. Who also happened to be my best friend.  I loved both of them very much and was very happy for them. Yet, something unexpected happened. I started to feel jealous. They ended up breaking up shortly after the semester ended, but the feelings of jealousy that I had experienced in regards to their relationship threw me off guard. I started to seriously examine my feelings for Josh. 

In a moment of honest reflection, I realized that Josh was everything that I wanted in a husband. (All except for the huge fact that he was gay.) He was dedicated to God above all else and he loved his Savior deeply. He was kind, funny, sincere, honest and so much fun. I connected with him in ways that I did not connect with anyone else.  But he was gay. And I did not know if I could handle that in a marriage. 

I ended up confessing my feelings to him on a random day on a whim. He admitted that he felt the same feelings for me. That I was everything he wanted in a wife. I had never been more excited or confused. We decided to try it out and to start dating. It was truly an amazing experience for both of us, falling in love with our best friend. 

Before he left on his mission, I was still not sure if I could actually marry him. The intimacy factor was so important to me. During the course of dating, we held hands and kissed.  It was promising, but I didn’t know if our chemistry would be enough. 

One day, we were having a conversation about our relationship. He simply said, “Am I worth it to you?” I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that question. We then talked about how no one is perfect and how everyone deals with his or her own set of imperfections.  When you get married, you are accepting a person as a package deal—the good, the bad, the hard, the amazing and the imperfect.  He wanted to know if I loved the rest of him enough that I could deal with the realities that his homosexuality would bring to our marriage. I honestly could not answer him then. 

Months passed and I was having a conversation with a good friend of mine. I said to her, “I can find someone else like Josh, right? Someone else to love like I love him?” She said, “You could find someone else to love, sure. But you will never have what you and Josh have with someone else. Because no one else is Josh.” When she said that, and I thought of loving someone else, I knew the answer to his question “Am I worth it?” 

I knew that I loved Josh. I loved All of him. I wanted to marry him. I wanted to marry Josh Weed because I loved the man that he was. I loved everything that made him him. I didn't want anyone else. I knew that we had the kind of relationship that could work through hard trials and circumstances. I had faith in him and I had faith in our love. I did not choose to marry someone who is gay. I chose to marry Josh Weed, the man that I love, and to accept all of him. I have never regretted it. 

 I love this man. 

Okay, next question, and Josh will take over again. If you're still reading, I'm impressed!

7. Why do you not choose to be “true to yourself” and live the gay lifestyle?

First of all, I understand that when people refer to a “gay lifestyle” they are talking about a lifestyle that includes gay romantic and sexual relationships. But I want to point out that because I am gay, any lifestyle I choose is technically a “gay lifestyle.” Mine just looks different than other gay peoples’. My hope is that other gay people will be as accepting of my choices as they hope others would be of their choices.

But that doesn’t really answer the question. And it is an important question.

One of the sad truths about being homosexual is that no matter what you decide for your future, you have to sacrifice something. It’s very sad, but it is true. I think this is true of life in general as well. If you decide to be a doctor, you give up any of the myriad of other things you could have chosen. But with homosexuality, the choices seem to be a little bit more mutually exclusive.  If you are Mormon and you choose to live your religion, you are sacrificing the ability to have a romantic relationship with a same-sex partner. If you choose a same-sex partner, you are sacrificing the ability to have a biological family with the one you love.  And so on. No matter what path you choose, if you are gay you are giving up something basic, and sometimes various things that are very basic. I chose not to “live the gay lifestyle,” as it were, because I found that what I would have to give up to do so wasn’t worth the sacrifice for me. The things I wasn’t willing to part with were the following:

1. I believe the doctrine of the Mormon Church is true. One of the key doctrines of the church is that “marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children.” Another is that “children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity.” These are things I personally believe. I also believe, and my experience has shown me time and time again, that when I follow the teachings that I know to be true my life is blessed and I find immense joy and peace. I feel that this joy and peace is a direct result of my connection to God’s spirit as a result of living in a way He approves of.

Deciding not to give this up--these profound spiritual beliefs that I feel in the deepest parts of my soul to be true--in favor of my sexual orientation required a great deal of faith, but I can honestly say that, for me, it has been completely worth it. I have not regretted the decision one day of my life. My life is filled with so much genuine, real, vibrant joy that I would be remiss if I didn’t thank God for blessing me for my obedience and adherence to His guidelines as I understand them. I love the Gospel of Jesus Christ as well as the Mormon Church, which I consider to be His restored organizational unit. I did not want to give that up.

2. I am a traditionalist at heart. I wanted a wife. I wanted to raise children that were biologically the product of me and the one I love. Thankfully, Lolly was willing to marry me, and we found ourselves able to conceive children. I have three incredible daughters. Every moment with them is true joy. Sometimes as I wrestle in the living room with them, or watch them eat cookies with chocolatey mouths and lots of giggles, or read them stories before tucking them into their beds, I’m filled with a sense of such joy that I almost feel bad to have such an incredibly fulfilling life. I often find myself in awe at how amazing my life is, and how lucky I am. And in my opinion, it was more than luck. I believe my joy stems from living the Gospel of Jesus Christ and trusting God and his plan for me even when it was really hard and scary.

3. I love Lolly Shea. (In my mind, she will always be Lolly Shea, the girl that I’ve known since I was three years old.) I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I want to grow old by her side. I wouldn’t trade her for any human on earth, male or female. She is my best friend, my lover, and my greatest gift. I love her with a love that is undeniable, and anyone that knows us can attest to the fact that our love is real, vibrant and very apparent. Besides my relationship with God himself, she is my everything and nothing that I ever do or receive in my life will ever compare to her and her love for me.

I find that when I think of what alternative lifestyles could offer me, they pale in comparison to the full, joyous, bounteous life I live. Thus, I believe that to live my life this way is being true to myself, and to go down any other path would be egregiously inauthentic and self-deceptive.

About two years ago, I saw a psychologist to get medication for my ADHD-I.  She was a lesbian, and when I told her that I was a gay man in a heterosexual marriage, she spent an entire session hammering me with questions about my situation in a genuine effort to make sure I was happy. I didn’t love that she did this, but as a clinician myself, I understood where she was coming from.

During our conversation, she told me about her life with her partner. She spoke of a girl, whom she considered her daughter, who is the biological child of her ex-lover, with whom she lived for only three years. She told me of how much she loved her daughter, but how infrequently she got to see her. And eventually, when talking about my sex life, she said “well, that’s good you enjoy sex with your wife, but I think it’s sad that you have to settle for something that is counterfeit.”

I was a little taken aback by this idea—I don’t consider my sex-life to be counterfeit. In response, I jokingly said “and I’m sorry that you have to settle for a counterfeit family.” She immediately saw my point and apologized for that comment. Obviously, I don’t actually think a family with non-biological members is counterfeit in any way. I also don’t feel that my sex-life is counterfeit. They are both examples of something that is different than the ideal. I made that joke to illustrate a point. If you are gay, you will have to choose to fill in the gaps somewhere. She chose to have a family in a way that is different than the ideal. I choose to enjoy sex in a way that is different than the ideal for a gay man. It all comes down to what you choose and why, and knowing what you want for yourself and why you want it. That’s basically what life is all about.

8. Should all gay people who are LDS or Christian choose to marry people of the opposite gender?

I want to make it very clear that while I have found a path that brings me profound joy and that is the right path for me, I don’t endorse this as the only path for somebody who is gay and religious. I will never, ever judge somebody else’s path as being “incorrect” and I know many people who have chosen different paths than myself.

I have two general recommendations:

1. If you know and love somebody who is gay and LDS (or Christian), your job is to love and nothing more. Let go of your impulse to correct them or control them or propel them down the path you think is right for them. Do what you need to do to move past that impulse.  Do not condemn the choices your loved one makes. Love. Only love. Show your love in word and deed. Embrace them, both literally and figuratively. I promise they need it—and they need to feel like they can figure out this part of themselves in a safe way without ridicule and judgment. It’s what Christ would do. It’s what your loved one needs. Accept them. Love them. Genuinely and totally.

If you are a parent or guardian, teach them what you know to be true in appropriate moments, with the Spirit. But then let go and let them govern themselves. Trust that they can find their own path. Let them live their life and have the experiences they need to learn and grow. Trust that they are in charge of their own agency and destiny. I promise you they will thank you. I also promise that pressuring them to live the life you want them to lead will only hamper their ability to make a genuine and authentic choice for their own future, be it what you hope for them or not. You will never, ever give your gay loved one a better gift than to love and accept them for who they are, right now, no matter what, period. The friends and family who did that for me (at varying points in my journey, including very recently) are cherished and will go down in the history of my life as the people that truly loved me, and as true Christians who helped me on my path. (And, btw, some of them are not technically even Christian—but to me are like Christ in their actions.)

2. If you are gay and Mormon (or Christian), I want you to know how much love I feel for you, and how much I admire you. I know how hard it is to be where you are. I want you to do me a favor. I want you, right now, to take a deep breath, look in the mirror, and accept yourself as you are in this very instant. You are you. And your attractions are part of you. And you are totally okay! I promise. I want you to stop battling with this part of you that you may have understood as being sinful. Being gay does not mean you are a sinner or that you are evil. Sin is in action, not in temptation or attraction. I feel this is a very important distinction. This is true for every single person. You don’t get to choose your circumstances, but you do get to choose what you do with them.  

I want you to know that God loves you, and that even though you are attracted to people of the same gender, you are a completely legitimate individual, worthy of God’s love, your family’s love, and the love of your friends. You are no more broken than any other person you meet. You are not evil. You are a beautiful child of God. Please don’t be ashamed. Know that you can be forgiven for any mistakes you have made, and that God is not judging you. He loves you. Turn to him. He has a plan specifically for you. He wants you to be happy, and he will take you by the hand, and guide you step by step to where you need to be if you trust Him. He is not angry with you, and He knows you completely, every part, even the parts you wish you could keep hidden. He knows it all, and he still loves you! He couldn’t love you any more, and he is proud of you for your courage. I wish you could know of my sincerity as I write these words, and how deeply I feel compassion for you. 

Conclusion (finally?)

You might be having an emotional reaction of some kind to this post. We want you to know that that’s okay.

Perhaps you’re someone that has never met a person that is gay whose opinion you trust, and are having trouble believing that a man or woman could actually be sexually attracted to their same gender. Perhaps it’s hard for you to accept the idea that people do not choose to be gay because it has helped you to understand this issue to assume that it is a matter of choice. It’s okay if you feel that way.

Perhaps it is hard for you to believe that a man who regularly has sex with a woman could actually be a homosexual who has chosen to live with a woman he loves, and that there’s no way I could feel what I claim to feel. It’s okay if you feel that way.

Perhaps you are someone who has been affected by a loved one who is gay and got married to a person of the opposite gender under false pretenses and then left his or her family, and your feelings are raw, and this post makes you feel feelings of anger because you worry that anybody in these circumstances is in for an eventual rude awakening and horrible consequences. Perhaps it even makes you feel deeper pain and loss than you already do to imagine that while this type of marriage didn’t work for you or for someone you love, it is working well for someone else, and so it’s easier to dismiss our story as something that is bound to fail. It’s okay if you feel that way.

Perhaps you are someone who has trouble believing a Mormon or Christian could actually be gay, so this post is difficult for you to take at face value. It’s okay if you feel that way.

Perhaps you are someone who is gay, and you once had desires to have a family with biological children of your own, but you gave that dream up long ago, and so now you feel challenged by the idea that doing so is a possibility for you, which makes you resistant to accept that what we are saying could be true—and maybe that makes you angry or upset that we would even suggest this is possible for those who want it. It’s okay if you feel that way.

Perhaps you have had none of these emotions and are totally supportive. Maybe you are even excited to see this being talked about so openly. Or perhaps you have felt something entirely different than anything mentioned.

Wherever you find yourself in your emotions, know that it is okay to feel what you are feeling. This issue is a very complex one and a very emotional one.

But this is a moment where whatever your feelings on the subject may be, you are reading the words of a real live person who is telling the truth. I am not lying to you right now. I have no reason whatsoever to share this with you besides to add a voice to the global discussion so that someone who might feel hopeless and lonely and devoid of role models or voices to trust can find all the information about their options available. I do so at great risk. I do so in spite of probable backlash from people I know as well as perfect strangers. I do so knowing that I will be misunderstood and possibly maligned—called a fraud, and told that my most intimate relationships are a sham. That I might be called Satanic, or told that I am the epitome of self-deception.

But the reason I do this is because I love you, whoever you are, and I want to share my situation so that you can know further truth: I am gay. I am Mormon. I am married to a woman. I am happy every single day. My life is filled with joy. I have a wonderful sex life. And I’ve been married for ten years, and plan to be married for decades more to come to the woman of my dreams.

All of these things are true, whether your mind is allowing you to believe them or not.

There are too many voices of dissent. There are too many voices saying that what I’m doing with my life is impossible. There are too many voices saying I don’t exist. Saying that I am a mirage, or a fake, or an impossibility. And Lolly and I have had our ten wonderful years of isolation, where we have enjoyed the goodness of our love and our life together in private. We have had chances to come out before in loud ways—we’ve been featured anonymously in news stories, been invited to be on radio interviews and documentaries, and were even asked to be on a national talk show. But it wasn’t time. We needed to have those years—ten wonderful years to ourselves, to live outside of any scrutiny, and just be ourselves.

But now we know that it’s time for us to share, and begin a new phase of openness and authenticity. We aren’t sure why, but we both know, without question, that this is what we are supposed to do. Maybe somebody needs to hear our story. Maybe you are that somebody. If so, thank you for reading, and thank you for letting us share this intimate piece of our lives with you.

If you are someone we know in person, we worry you might feel a little hurt about the manner in which you have found out about this. Know that if you feel that this was an abrupt way to find this out, we genuinely apologize. There was simply no way to talk to everyone we love before publishing this post--but we want you to know that the dialogue is open. If you have questions for us, please ask them. We are talking about this now. We won't be weirded out if you ask us questions. And if you didn't hear about this personally, it's not because we don't love or trust you. We tried to get to everyone, but just ran out of time.

Also, generally, please feel free to use the comment section to discuss this matter if you wish. However, remember that this is our lives you are talking about. Please feel free to say what you need to say, but we would ask that you be respectful of our decisions and the decisions of others if you decide to comment. And if you know someone who could benefit from this post, please share it. You can click share in the upper corner or down below. We want this post to reach anybody it could potentially help. 

In closing, when talking to some friends about our situation in preparation for this post, one of them said “It’s almost like we’ve encountered a real live Unicorn!” She was joking of course. She was just saying that they were talking to something that not many encounter. A mythical creature. Someone who is gay, Mormon and married. And then as we told new friends about ourselves in preparation for this post, we told them we were initiating them into “Club Unicorn” because they had now seen something mythical with their very own eyes.

I now extend that invitation to every one of you. I am not a myth. I am real.

I cordially welcome you as the newest member of Club Unicorn.