If You Don't Go to Church, Then Why Do You Care?

As I delve deeper into LGBTQ Mormon activism, surrounded by individuals attempting to reconcile their sexual or gender identity within traditional Mormon spaces, others increasingly ask me this question. As a result, I have even begun to ask myself this as well. Indeed, I am no longer attending church, so why do I care about LGBTQ Mormon movements?

First, I think it’s important to point out the implications this question has: in order to identify religiously, one must regularly attend church services. For many of us identifying as LGBTQ and Mormon, ex-communication and being forced out of religious spaces is a common experience, and our desire to worship is disregarded. Thus, the problem with defining identity in terms of church attendance is that it erases the history of many LGBTQ-identified individuals, people who have been forced to leave and find religion some other way. Additionally, this definition of a religious identity prioritizes one way of having a religious identity over others. For me, this means I see the potential in non-active church members working with LGBTQ religious movements. Because disregarding current activity status, I at one point in my life was carrying out both my queer and religious identities simultaneously. Because I remember the pain and want to help create a space for others in situations I once was in. I also see connections between the LGBTQ Mormon movement and other issues within the Church, such as feminism (both struggle with the prevailing patriarchy). Many of these issues remain close to my heart and ones that I want to see resolved.

And truth be told, it’s not as simple as stepping away from the Church. Many of us are born into the Church, and brought up in Mormon households. Our households and families remain Mormon, despite our lack of involvement with the official Church. The customs and upbringing in Mormon spaces remains ingrained for many of us, as Matt demonstrated in his post a few weeks ago. And even if I seek spirituality elsewhere or nowhere, this institution exists and continues to halt the progress of the people and causes I care about. And it exists within us: our minds, our families.

It is this variation in experiences of LGBTQ Mormons that needs to be recognized. Whether active or inactive, single or in a relationship, there are many different ways to be simultaneously LGBTQ and Mormon. And in a political movement that aims at representing us, the fluidity of our experiences should be recognized, and none should be prioritized over another, or prescribed to the rest of us as the way to be simultaneously LGBTQ and Mormon.

A few months back, I had the opportunity to attend a workshop at UCSB presented by two of the authors of Original Plumbing (be sure to check out this wonderful blog here). During the workshop, an individual expressed the opportunity he has had to speak and educate about trans issues, despite many people being unaware that he identifies as trans also. He referred to this as a shift of consciousness from a trans-identified voice to a non-trans ally, and how this has allowed him to have a different approach and perspective in his activism.

This resonated deeply with me. In many ways, it’s how I feel currently. I may never return to Church, and I may decide existing in spaces of worship no longer works for me. But no matter what, I will still have my experience, at one point in my life, of being gay and Mormon. And while I’m working to create a space for those still in this or similar parts of their life, I’m also working to create a space for the teenager me that wanted it to be okay to be out, and find a more accurate religion of love and acceptance. And maybe it be a drastic restructuring of a flawed institution or resorting elsewhere to other means of worship. But I’ll never get closer to discovering what this all would look like if I don’t join in making it reality. And in no way does this invalidate my experiences and the identity I hold onto.

Mormons Be Like, "Progress!"

“Wait…women weren’t allowed to pray before??”

This was my first reaction upon reading that Jean A. Stevens, first counselor in the Primary presidency, gave the first prayer ever given by a woman at a worldwide Mormon meeting during Saturday’s General Conference session.

(Reason why I’m not a good Mormon: I’ve never watched a televised General Conference event. Ever. In years past, I’d read the talks online or in print if I perhaps was interested in any of them. Otherwise, I’ve never participated in General Conference.)

Women have been able to pray during regular, local Sunday services for as long as I’ve been alive. And truth be told, women’s prayers often captured my attention and spirit better than their male counterparts. I was baffled as to how a woman had never before prayed in a General Conference before. Welcome to 1925, y’all.

As per usual, the drama started while reading my Facebook newsfeed, blown up with news of the “first prayer by a woman at Mormon conference.” The response was an overwhelming “yay progress!,” to which I groaned.

In an email quoted by The Salt Like Tribune , Kristine Haglund, editor of Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, offered an explanation as to why women had never before been invited to pray at worldwide Church meetings:

"It was the unintended consequence of the institutional systematization of patriarchy.”

And it was Steven’s prayer that uncovered the existence of patriarchy at an institutional level. A system that didn’t acknowledge the capabilities and capacities of women to pray at worldwide meetings until 2013, 183 years after the Church was formed. And a system that is still in place, despite a historical prayer this weekend.

A system where at the same conference as the first woman’s prayer, talks were given that weren’t so welcoming and loving. Some warned us against the “tolerance trap,” as it was coined. Talks like these are especially harmful to members of LGBT Mormon spaces, and do much to show how little progress is being made, and how the institutionalized patriarchy is still operating at its finest. 

I am glad that women are now able to pray in these spaces. But it’s only one of many worthwhile causes Mormon feminists are working on. These people are continuing to work on the causes pertinent to bringing about substantial changes. A Facebook event the other week clued me in to a movement of women nationwide to wear pants on a specified Sunday. Besides this, people are working to challenge this patriarchy and other systemic issues limiting the participation and equal treatment of fellow churchgoers. Some promote tolerance and acceptance of women not complying with social expectations of marriage and homemaking. Others are working towards the inclusion of their fellow members who happen to identify as lesbian or gay. The Exponent illustrates the many issues Mormon feminists are working on and steps to take towards resolution. 

I do not wish to downplay the historical nature and significance of Sister Stevens’ prayer during General Conference. I accept it as a long overdue change that needed to happen, and hope it’s only a pit stop to real progress and adjustments of systemic and institutionalized issues present. For me, progress runs deeper than putting a woman on a pulpit and letting her speak. It’s making changes so that everyone may be able to partake in worshipping their God, and eliminate fear for being accepted or safe in religious spaces. That will be progress worth tuning in for.