Affirmation 1998

Affirmation Conference-1998

© Christian E. Kimball, September 1998.

From 1994 to 1996 I served as a bishop in a single adult ward in Cambridge, MA. I am no longer serving as a bishop. But there is an image that sticks with me from that time. In detail this is no one person, but the essence of this story came up a number of times

Imagine a young man sitting in the bishop’s office. He says: "I am gay. I hope to find a partner and expect that with that partner I will have a sexual relationship. That partner will be a man. So I'm not going to follow the Church's rule. I already know that. All bets are off. None of the rules work, nothing that I learned in Primary and in Mutual applies. But I've been dating a man and the relationship is too physical. It doesn't feel right. What should I do?"

All too often the answer to this question is "don't . . . just don’t, and we have nothing more to say." A natural reply is then "goodbye."

That should not be. The Church can and should and must serve to bring the joy of the gospel to all people. Not just the heterosexual married man working 9-to-5 and never on Sunday with a wife at home and 3.5 kids arriving at church in a minivan.

There must be more to say. There is more to say. And it can be said.

First, I need to clarify who I am to be speaking on this subject.

On the positive side, I am a husband, a father, a son. I am a lawyer and a teacher and a student. I have had some experience talking with people about sex, principally in my role as a student, as a father, and for a short but intense period as a bishop.

On the other hand, I am not gay. Also, I am not a therapist, a counselor, an analyst, a demographer. I can talk about the people I know and the experiences I have had, but I can't tell you how most people think, or how a statistically valid representative sample think.

I am not a church leader. Not that Church leaders necessarily understand homosexuality or could speak to how things really work, but the Church is powerful and important for most of us. It is part of the definition of this group. A spokesman for the Church might be very interesting. But I do not speak for the church. I do not have any position of authority in the church. I have served in many callings in the Mormon Church. Most notably, as a bishop I met quite a number of gay men and women. I encountered and wrestled with the statements of Church leaders about homosexuality. As a bishop I argued - in writing, in discussion with the Stake President, and I hope in my own actions -- for equal treatment and room, within the range of what I thought possible in the Church today. "Equal treatment" meaning that sexual orientation would not be a factor in church callings or involvement, and that heterosexual and homosexual activity would be judged on an equal footing. "Room" meaning an allowance for or tolerance for those (het or gay) who consciously choose to be sexually active although not married, without a constant push to change or an escalating disciplinary process. A way to participate and worship on an ongoing basis without "in the process of change" implied in probation, and without the stigma of disfellowshipment or excommunication.

My experience as bishop is very much the reason I have anything to say. Not that I would necessarily believe any differently. I don't know that. But in that setting I was forced to confront my beliefs and to explicate them.

However, I am not a bishop now. To the extent that position gives any authority - and whether or not it is technically or theologically correct, whether or not a good thing, in practice Mormons cede to the bishop a lot of authority -- it is first of all only with respect to a particular ward, a particular congregation. And second, it isn't me. Not now. Not for several years. I do not speak for the church in any way.  I have no authority, no power, beyond the sound of my voice and the power of reason tempered with love and empathy. I am here because I was invited.

Finally, and this is very important, I am not an apologist. I know the role of an apologist-one who explains or rationalizes or justifies. I have spent most of my adult life doing just that. I have worked hard at saying "yes, there are problems and people hurt and some things don't make sense, but if you look more closely or think hard enough and carefully enough, the Church and the gospel really do make sense and really do work." I am actually pretty good at that. But I don't do it any longer. This might be the greatest disappointment for some in the audience, who would hope that I could reconcile seemingly conflicted messages or meanings, who would like to hear some way to live in the Church as a faithful sustaining committed member without psychic dissonance or major suppression. Maybe there is a great thinker who can and will perform that service. I am not that person. I know that what I have to say, what I believe, speaking from my heart, with the best that I know and feel, in some respects runs counter to the Church's position and the teaching of the general authorities.

Regarding homosexuality, there are three or four basic understandings or beliefs that I have come to over time.

First, based on the experiences I have had, research others have done, and the people I know with their many and varied stories, I believe that sexual orientation is a function of four things:

genetics, which may be synonymous or at least functionally indistinguishable from pre-existence or the eternal and essential "I",

nurture, almost all of which has its impact very young,

conscious teenage and adult opportunity and experience,

and  choice.

The mix is probably different for each person. It certainly seems so for the people I know.

Notwithstanding the possibility of conscious opportunity and choice, I think it is wrong to assume that people choose. For most people sexual orientation seems to be fixed well before the age of 8, which I pick because of the obvious reference to an age of accountability at baptism.

Second is the question of whether people can change their sexual orientation. I believe that for almost everybody, gay or straight, orientation does not change and no force of will can make it change. This is the operating belief I have, based on all the evidence I have.

I want to qualify that point in a couple of ways:

First, it is fairly clear to me that some people who have suffered sexual abuse, especially as a child, can be confused about their sexual preferences in a variety of ways. Such individuals may believe at some times or for some time that they are homosexual, and later sort through enough of the effects of the abuse that they come to a clearer understanding and feeling about themselves as heterosexual. Or may believe that they are heterosexual, and later come to a clearer understanding and feeling about themselves as homosexual.

Second, this is a big world, and while I don't happen to know anybody for whom this is true, I suspect that there are people for whom genetics and nurture and experience come out just about balanced between same-sex and opposite-sex orientation, for whom choice really is the determining factor.

With these exceptions noted, it seems to me that people do not and can not change their sexual orientation.

So I believe that sexual orientation is a complex mix of causes, including some element which could fairly be called "God given." And I believe that, with some few exceptions, sexual orientation does not change. I expect that in this gathering these opinions are pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. Not controversial. Not particularly unusual.

However, it is very important that I know these are my opinions and operating assumptions, and that I know they are not shared by everyone. This is critical. Any conversation about homosexuality, about same-sex marriage, about the Church and gays, about the bible and homosexuality, about the morals of involuntary "outing"-pick your topic, there are many-is almost impossible or almost certainly futile without some convergence of opinion on these fairly basic points. There are people who firmly believe that heterosexual orientation is God-given, inherent and fundamental but homosexuality is a culturally constructed overlay which can be shucked off by simple choice. I will tell you that that sentence makes no sense to me-that "heterosexual orientation is God-given, but homosexual orientation is cultural and a matter of choice"-that sentence. I had to do some mental gymnastics to construct that sentence. But I'm pretty sure it is a commonly held belief. And if that's the frame from which someone starts, any discussion is likely to be very very frustrating for both of us (unless it is about those basic assumptions themselves).

Third, I believe that marriage, with all the rights and responsibilities attendant, should be available for men and women in any of the several combinations - man and woman, man and man, woman and woman. I would not open up pandora's box to a free-for-all. I don't think we know what it means or what sense to make of a mixed generation (parent-child) or blood relative (siblings) "marriage." Notwithstanding a few decades of Mormon experience in this country, and centuries of Muslim (and other) experience outside this country, I don't think we know how to think about or how to deal with multiple-partner "marriages"-more than two people. But with two adult individuals who are not previously related, it makes all the sense in the world to acknowledge and celebrate marriage and makes no sense to restrict or deny the opportunity to marry. I have heard the arguments both ways, and frankly, personally, I have reached a point of intolerance. I have a hard time understanding the opposite position and feel emotionally upset when someone tries to argue that same-sex marriage is somehow wrong or objectionable. (As a lawyer I recognize that this makes me less than an ideal advocate. I am too passionate on the subject.)

I don't just believe that same-sex marriage is OK or acceptable. I think it would be a positive good and I think it is damaging and punitive to deny such legally validated opportunity.

Fourth, I believe that a fully realized, intimate, sexual relationship between two men or two women can be good, positive, uplifting, fulfilling, holy. That doesn't mean that all such relationships are good (the same goes for heterosexual relationships). It means that an intimate sexual relationship can be a good thing, a wonderful thing . . . even without marriage.

Let me be clear that I see absolutely no movement in the Church to accept or even tolerate same-sex sexuality. There has been a marked move in the last 20 years from treating the state of being homosexual in preference as a bad thing, to one in which homosexuality as a state of being is accepted and not viewed as sinful. However, same-sex sexuality, and in fact sexual expression of any kind other than between a man and a woman within a heterosexual marriage, is viewed as sinful and shameful and the subject of discipline.

I can imagine and hope for a day when same-sex unions are celebrated in the Church. I'm not sure that will be in my lifetime. I'm not sure it will ever be. But I think it is possible. On the other hand, I have no expectation or hope that sex outside marriage will ever be approved or accepted. Maybe tolerated, on a kind of "don't ask, don't tell" basis, but that is the most I can dream of within the Church.

I know that in the Church, in the culture of the Church, it is a big step to voice the idea that same-sex sexuality is possibly good and uplifting. I suspect that in reality the big step is not the belief, but actually saying it publicly. I don't think it is such a shocking idea privately. In my conversations with people-a variety of people, mostly Mormon, both gay and straight but mostly straight, young and old-in private, quiet, safe conversations, I don't find anybody seriously believing in lifetime celibacy. It is the Church's position so far as I can discern it. I'm sure there are many who have determined that it is their life, their cross to bear. But I don't know them. I remember a comment by an older, kind of grandmotherly woman, to me. She said: "if I had a gay friend/brother/daughter/son whose sexual orientation was sufficiently clear that a heterosexual relationship was not likely, I'd probably tell him or her to look for a relationship which is trusting, loving and long-term, and to get out of the Church sooner or later and find another place to worship God." I think that sums up the feeling that a lot of people have, and have expressed to me in one way or another.

I don't want to tell anyone to leave the Church. But I think there are some irreconcilable tensions. I think these tensions are damaging and hurtful. I know that in fact many have left the Church and many more are on their way out. That concerns me. It is really the reason for this talk. What I'm afraid the Church says now, in either of my opening case, is:

"You are beyond the pale. Other than `don't' we have nothing more to say. Good bye."

One mother I talked with about this subject (not my own, by the way) said "there could not be a conversation about sex. If it were my daughter I would not stop saying "don't." I would say "don't" until I was blue in the face. The conversation would never move from that point." I'd like to suggest that with such an attitude there never will be a conversation. Her daughter would leave.

That must not be where the conversation ends. God is bigger than that.

In a sense it is easy for me to have "something to say" about sex outside of marriage, because I believe it can be a good thing. So it is important to make the argument carefully and precisely. My argument is that we-the Church, Church members, you and me-can and should talk about sex outside of marriage even if you or he or they think it is fundamentally wrong and cannot be good in any circumstance.

It is possible to respond to the young man in my first image by saying "I don't think a sexual relationship with a man is a good thing, but since you have made that choice, let's talk about the options you have-what is better, what is worse."

Move the vocabulary. Not "right" and "wrong." That stymies the process. Instead, use "better" and "worse."

The idea of talking about relative values-better and worse-rather than absolute values-right and wrong-is very troubling and new to many Mormons. The idea of starting from the other person's position, rather than insisting on a common or correct position, is for many a new idea. But it can be done.

I am aided in this process by two kinds of experience. One is my work as a transactional lawyer. Sometimes it has been my experience that my client planned an acquisition that did not make sense to me. I have said, in effect: "You have decided to buy that company. It isn't where I would spend my money, if I were in your shoes." But the conversation does not stop there. I go on to say "I will help you do it the best way possible, given your decision to make that acquisition." That is the kind of conversation we can have about sex outside marriage.

The other experience is something my mission president taught me. He said "our job is not to convert. Our job is to talk with each individual, find out where he or she is, and through our conversation and action to bring them one step closer to Christ." That is the kind of conversation we can have about sex outside marriage.

It is not easy. I can tell you this is a dangerous, difficult subject. My friends think I am a little crazy to even attempt this topic in an open forum. There are a number of stumbling blocks on the way to a conversation.

First, "we already know the answers." Like that mother, the answer is "NO."

 In the Proclamation on the Family the Church said:

"God has commanded that the sacred powers of procreation are to be employed only between man and woman, lawfully wedded as husband and wife."

In this sentence the phrase "sacred powers of procreation" is almost certainly euphemistic for sex.

President Kimball, never one to mince words about sex, said:

"That the Church's stand on morality may be understood, we declare firmly and unalterably, it is not an outworn garment, faded, old-fashioned, and threadbare. God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and his covenants and doctrines are immutable; and when the sun grows cold and the stars no longer shine, the law of chastity will still be basic in God's world and in the Lord's church. Old values are upheld by the Church not because they are old, but rather because through the ages they have proved right. It will always be the rule. . . . The world may countenance premarital sex experiences, but the Lord and his church condemn in no uncertain terms any and every sex relationship outside of marriage. [SWK 80-53]

So we have the answer and there is nothing to talk about. Right?

But wait a minute. What about a hug? Is that OK or not? You say OK if it is short, but not if it lasts more than 15 seconds? Where did that come from? Really? And now we are talking.

A second problem is that in typical Mormon discourse there is no variation in sin. Everything is serious. Everything is vital. We pay lip service to the idea that denying the Holy Ghost, murder and adultery are really bad because forgiveness is either unattainable or very difficult. But even little daily things we often treat as mortal sin, a matter of life and death. I think this comes of a tradition in which we describe perfection as an attainable goal. We quote Alma 45:16: "for the Lord cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance." In the face of perfection every flaw is an unacceptable failure.

I've only been able to find one quote from a general authority that allows the possibility of some gradation, so let me read it because it is so unusual:

"I hope their values will not be mixed and distorted like the man who stole the coal but would not drink a cup of coffee, or like the young girl recently who was pregnant, but so distorted was her view that her emphasis was on temple marriage at all costs and no thought of preparation for it. She would not marry the father of her unborn child because temple marriage was not available to her at this time. Fornication was of lesser moment to her but she had definitely settled on her temple marriage. The spirit giveth life-the word killeth. (SWK 66-07)

I don't have a general prescription for this problem of perfection, and all sin being mortal sin. For me personally there are two answers. First, because I believe that sexual expression between two people - same sex or opposite sex - can be good and holy, I don't think I am necessarily talking about sin anyway. Second, in my life there was a break in my feeling about the relative seriousness of sin that occurred when, as an adult, having grown up with the simple Sunday School listing of sins, I encountered in my reading and in the experiences of people I knew, a number of truly terrible experiences: physical, emotional and sexual abuse of children, rape, slavery, torture. There are awful things people do to other people. This list smashed forever, in my head, the simple listing of good and bad. These things seem so much worse than most of what I had ever imagined that I could no longer hang on to, or even pretend to hang on to, the idea that sin is sin and all is equally bad.

A third problem is the firmly-held belief in many corners that any discussion or acknowledgment will be seen as permissive, either by children and others who should not be sexually active, or by the morality police who will think we are soft on sex or don't take it seriously. I think we have to get past this issue. Some people will see it as talking about a second-best world. Then let's talk about a second best world. Even in that framework, let's talk. As a bishop I talked with people who were making hard decisions. Who were puzzled. Who wanted to do right, even acknowledging that they were outside the Church's norms. If we (the church, the grown-ups, the establishment) say "don't, and no conversation" then there will in fact be no conversation. People will simply leave.

Finally, there are practical problems. If nobody talks about these things then there is nobody to quote. In order to get past the first sentence in the conversation you have to have an original thought. That's not so easy. And, like talking about politics or religion, you are likely to gore somebody. Anything you say may seem judgmental-put people quickly into the "good guys" and the "bad guys" camps.

But there needs to be an ongoing discussion about sex. I really have only one message, and that's it.

Having made my basic point, let me illustrate. Not with final or ultimate truth, but with ideas and thoughts about what is better and what is worse.

First, I need to define what I mean by sex or sexual expression. We've been treated to definition after definition in the press recently. But I'm not referring to any of those definitions. I know that the mind is the most important sexual organ, that imagination and fantasy are vital (and virtually unavoidable). But as I examine my own thoughts, I know that what I mean when I talk about sexual expression is touch. Some kind of touch. There is another body with which contact is made. The contact may be as simple as touching the back of your hand, or as complex as some of the positions in those "how-to" books lining the shelves in the Sex section of the bookstore. But there is another person. The touch recognizes, acknowledges, expresses feeling and desire and communion-I am other than you, but I would be with you in some way. Think about the simple, formalized handshake. We give it little significance in weighing sexual activity, but there is a kind of communion and desire expressed even in a handshake. I see you. I recognize you as other. I want to connect with you. I want to show that I like you or enjoy you or hear you or see you or know you. It might be "innocent" in the terms we learned as teenagers. It might happen 50 times a day. But it is sexual in an important sense. And so is holding hands, which may communicate much more, of course. And an embrace. And a gentle hand on the shoulder. And kissing. And touching more private areas than the hand or the shoulder.

When I say "sexual expression" I mean some kind of touch. When I say "sex" I mean something more specific. I mean touching someone else with the intent or purpose of bringing to orgasm one or the other, or both. It isn't the only possible definition or the only reasonable meaning. It is, however, what I have in mind when I use those words. And this is part of talking. Part of the work of going beyond "no." What am I talking about? What are you talking about? Let us understand.

So now we are talking about sex and sexual expression. It seems to me that there are some easy thoughts:

Don't get pregnant, unless you intend to and can offer a child a home with two parents. I know that is controversial-not a universally held opinion. That's what I believe. Let's talk about it.

Don't get or transmit STDs. Safe sex is better than unsafe sex. A perfect example. You may believe . . . the Church does teach . . . that no sex is best (actually, that monogamous married sex is best). OK. Maybe I agree. Maybe I don't. But the person I'm talking to isn't taking the "no sex" bit. And given that fact, it seems to me really easy to say "safe sex is better than unprotected sex," and morally bankrupt to say nothing.

A friend of mine contributed a thought which makes good sense to me. He said that money and sex don't mix. If you have to pay, something is wrong, something is not good. That covers prostitution, of course (and pornography, although pornography might technically be outside the meaning of "sex" that I am using). But what about a fancy dinner? What about support arrangements, overt or subtle? What about dependent relationships, where there is a loss of freedom and a kind of coercion?

It is easy to say that force is bad. That way lies rape and assault & battery. I could probably get more agreement on that point than any other in this room. But the converse gives me much to think about. It seems to me that consent, mutual consent, is a good thing. Let's talk about consent.

Mary Becker, a professor at the University of Chicago Law School, has been wrestling with the question of when sex is good. She talks about "non-objectifying sex" as a positive, and "autonomy-denying sex" as a negative. In "Morality and Sexual Orientation" she describes "autonomy-denying consensual sex" as "sex that one participant would rather avoid than experience not just on one night, but night after night." And "non-objectifying sex" as "both mutually desired and entirely consistent with the personhood of the partner, affirming the partner as a person rather than treating the partner as a thing."

My standard of consent is very high. The common phrase is "what didn't you understand about `no'?" But that's easy. What is hard is knowing when a "yes" really means "yes." There is some academic legal writing which speaks to this. You'd find it under the category "feminist contract law"-not a subject heading most of your are likely to be familiar with. The analysis points out that people want to be agreeable, that many people much of the time want to be someone who says "yes." They may not really want the thing they are agreeing to, but they want to be saying "yes."

So how do we distinguish, how do we tell when a "yes" really means "yes" and not just "I want to be agreeable"?

For something like going out to a movie, maybe we just take people at their word. We don't want to spend hours analyzing terms and checking for multiple motivations. Just go see the film.

But for sex, a primary human activity of enormous importance and significance, we need more care. Maybe we have to go slow. Not the first date. Not the second. Maybe not even the third. Take time and talk and get to know each other. In the contract law world, we talk about a document, with time to prepare and time to back out and a formal signing. It seems to me that consent takes us in the direction of a ceremony, of some kind of declaration, of some representation not just in private but within a community: "this man and no other" or "this woman and no other."

Are there other "goods" or "betters"? It seems to me that exclusivity-monogamy-is a good thing. Commitment is a good thing. Knowing he will be there in the morning, and the next and the next, is a good. Better than the alternative.

In fact, when I say that a fully realized intimate sexual relationship can be a good thing, outside marriage, I am imagining a mutually chosen, long-term, exclusive, mutually supportive, publicly declared relationship.

If mutually chosen, long-term, exclusive and supportive is good, does that mean that missing some element of the list sends you to hell?

That depends. (Not the standard answer, right? At least not the standard answer in a world that has nothing more to say than "no".)

It depends on what is missing. If what is missing is consent, and there is some kind of compulsion or coercion, that seems to me very bad.

If there is a breach of some existing committed exclusive relationship, that seems pretty bad too.

In these cases the common words we use are rape and adultery. Serious business.

If the "not so good" is that it is too early, in a relationship that seems good and is headed in a good direction but not really committed (for example), then that is not so good, but not so terrible either. Not by comparison. Not in a range where there is better and there is worse.

Now these are all opinions. They are real opinions, meaning that I didn't make up some words to have something to say. I actually believe these things. But I know that not everybody will agree.

For example, how important is a public declaration? I think it is valuable. I have performed some weddings. It has seemed to me that the commitment is something best done in a community, not just in private. Some will disagree. Let us talk. Let us reason together.

What about a "long-term commitment"? You might say "Do we need a `for the rest of our lives' kind of commitment? Or is it enough that we are not seeing anybody else?" I think the permanent commitment is better. But short of that, is 5 years better than 1 year? I don't know. Let's talk.

I see that young man looking at me. Saying "I'm gay. I'm not going to get married. I want to live with someone, to share my life with someone. But I'm not going to fit in the simple `heterosexual married at 23 and faithful to my wife forever' mold. Do you have anything to say?"

If the answer is "DON'T" and nothing more, there are only two likely replies:

Repression and supression-a kind of living hell.

"Good-bye"-a sad indictment of the Church, which in that moment is shown to be not universal, but only a place for a few.

Instead, let us reason together. Let us talk about good and better. I am not talking to a room full of Church leaders, although some of my comments may make their way into print. But this is a conversation which you and I, in twos and threes and tens and twelves, can begin and continue. That is my prayer and my plea.