Why is the LDS Church afraid of GLBT people?

Last Friday there was a rally in Salt Lake City. The announcement came through email, and I anxiously passed the word around. It had been arranged quickly, by a man who planned to marry his longtime partner in California this spring. With the passage of Proposition 8, that ceremony can no longer take place.

Rallies have been going on all over California since November 5th, but this was the first show of support from Utah. It was a cool night, and dark by the time we arrived. I worried only a handful of people would show up, and my husband and I walked towards the park with woven hands and set faces.

The first thing I saw was a group of counter-protesters. They waved signs and shouted about Adam and Steve, tradition, and shame. Many smirked and jeered as protesters moved towards the park, and though I met their gaze, they looked away. The sadness filling my chest and stomach since November 5th moved to my eyes. I tried to remind myself this was nothing new, nothing to be shocked by.

After walking up a short hill, I was glad to see the turnout for the rally was thousands strong. The weak sound system prevented most of the crowd from hearing the speakers, but soon after, there was a call to march. The relief and building excitement was palatable; a march was something distinct, a clear statement we could all participate in. We were desperate for something to do.

As we circled Temple Square, the city block owned by the LDS church, I was stunned to see the gates were closed and members of the Mormon church and security team stood grim faced on the other side. They seemed to be frightened of us, anticipating aggression. I looked around at my fellow marchers--middle aged gay and lesbian couples, children with gay parents, mothers with infants, shy teenagers--and back at the people behind the gates. What were they afraid of? Why were they surprised by our frustration..?

I am still trying to answer these questions. Since Friday, I've tracked the responses to the rally and similar protests around the country. The GLBT community is uniting in a way I've never seen before; people are talking, planning, and hoping at last to gain the rights they have been denied for so long. Generation after generation, people have silently struggled, unable to live openly for fear of losing their family, friends, jobs, and even their lives. And now they're coming out of the woodwork to stand in solidarity with others who've shared their struggle. It's exhilarating.

In contrast, the LDS church has decried the protests, and many members have indicated that they feel persecuted. Confused by this response, I had a prolonged discussion with a Mormon woman who supported Proposition 8. I did my best to explain why people are frustrated and angry; that church leaders held closed meetings with Yes on Prop 8 managers and donated 2-5 thousand dollars despite being a 501(c)(3), while LDS members contributed over 20 million dollars to support a campaign based on deceit and lies. I told her that many feel the church used and manipulated their followers into acting as a massive political lobbying machine, and believe the Mormon Church defied both tax law and the Constitution of the United States.

I also tried to point out that it was the responsibility of LDS church leaders to think through the possible consequences of their actions. Getting involved in controversial political issues is always risky, and likely to provoke anger. Certain events since the election have confirmed this, because although GLBT leaders have made it clear they support nonviolent resistance, certain people will always choose aggression when they are angry. If the Mormon church didn't want to face criticism, why did it blatantly encourage members to strip rights from a community that has nothing to do with them?





Only now am I beginning to understand why. As I've come to learn, people of strong religious tradition often feel entitled to create and enforce rules. The Rules are their salvation--all that keeps them from going astray--and they believe more rules are needed to save the world from itself. More than that, they believe they are working as agents of God. The rules are His, His truth is the only Truth, and the world is divided into distinct categories of Good and Evil: those who follow the rules, and those who don't. This world view makes life, in all its complexities, seem much simpler. When an explicit rule system is provided, you do not have to think, question, or doubt. Everything is easier.

But the GLBT community defies these rules, this narrow perception of the world, by its very existence. We are gray (or rainbow). For many of us, gender and sexuality fall on a spectrum that cannot be defined or constrained--which is a direct contradiction to the religious view. Our experiences, our truth, tells us that labels do not work, and that humanity is infinitely diverse and changing. We cannot be sorted and separated into neatly defined categories. We are complicated--and this is maddening for those who want and need the world to be simple.





In other words, the values of the LDS church and the GLBT community are too different to ever reach an understanding. Their members often feel their lives depend on their ability to cling to the rules. Since we do not fit those rules, we cannot be considered Good or even benign--and they are justified in their actions against us.

The woman I spoke with told me that the church does not hate gay people, but it considers their 'lifestyle choice' to be unnatural and deviant. In turn, I explained that the GLBT community does not hate the Mormon church, but it considers their beliefs on homosexuality to be bigoted and abhorrent. Fact of the matter is, these views will never be reconciled--and they do not need to be. LDS people have the right to worship as they please, whether we agree with their belief structure or not. And I think most members and supporters of the GLBT community acknowledge that. Despite our anger, we know we have no right to dictate their beliefs or lifestyle.

But the LDS church (and many others) clearly does not share this stance. Their belief in rules made them feel entitled to dictate the lives of others, whether Mormon or not, and they did not anticipate that their authority would be challenged. Likening themselves as the "parents" of society, they sought to enforce boundaries when they had no right to do so. And like many parents, they also refuse to acknowledge their own fallibility. They are confused and frightened by our anger, and continue to believe their decisions were righteous and correct.

Regardless, the LDS church is not the parent of society. Despite their feelings of righteousness, it was and is not their privilege to lobby for laws that enforce religious beliefs--which is precisely what Proposition 8 does. There exists no non-religious argument against gay marriage, which means many members of the religious community deliberately supported a law based on religious doctrine, though doing so is strictly prohibited by the Constitution.





And this is why we are angry. This is why we are protesting. For too long, conservative Americans have used religion as an excuse to deny rights to many citizens, and Proposition 8 is a very clear symbol of this truth. The religious community does not 'own' marriage, nor does it have the right to dictate who can and cannot be protected under the law. Since there seems to be some confusion on this point, it is now the responsibility of the GLBT community to take a stand against religious conservatives who crossed the line.

Sadly, what conservatives fail to understand is that GLBT people truly mean them no harm. In fact, most gay people want little to do with religious doctrine, much less change it--and if religious conservatives would simply leave us alone, we would by happy to do the same. All gay Americans want is to be acknowledged as full and equal citizens, including the right to civil marriage. This has no effect on religious marriage. They are two separate ideas, and allowing gay people that right will not mean the government can dictate what happens inside church walls.

If only the LDS church and others like it could understand. There should not be a need for conflict. There should not be a need for anger. There should not be a need to march. If churches simply focused on their parish, and allowed others to live their lives, we would not be having this debate. And I sincerely wish that were the case.





At the end of my conversation with the Mormon supporter of Proposition 8, she asked me what it would take for the homosexual community to feel satisfied that they had achieved their goals. Would it end with the passage of homosexual marriage in all 50 states, full adoption rights, and ability to openly serve in the military? Or would there be another hurdle to overcome?

I replied:

"I think I will feel we have succeeded when this is no longer something that needs to be debated. Meaning--I will be content once it is considered irrelevant and offensive to discuss which rights GLBT people deserve.

In my mind, we will have succeeded when "gay" is no longer used as a substitute for "stupid" or "disgusting". We will have succeeded when a GLBT couple can walk hand and hand down the street of any American city, without fear that someone will drive by screaming "faggot", spit on them, and throw things (or perhaps wait around the corner, hoping to beat them within an inch of their lives). We will have succeeded when employees are no longer terminated on bogus charges, shortly after their boss discovers (or even suspects) they might not be heterosexual. We will have succeeded when it is considered sick and absurd to assume GLBT people are, by default, child molesters. When hospital staff members no longer tell gay couples who have devoted their lives to one another that they don't 'count' as family, even as one of them lays sick and dying in the other room--we will have succeeded."





Personally, I will be satisfied when society is no longer afraid of GLBT people, desperately consumed by what may or may not go on in the privacy of their bedrooms, and seeking to punish them for merely being who they are. It breaks my heart to acknowledge that I don't think this will happen in my lifetime. But I will continue to fight, with the hope that I might see that day before I go.