My Primal Catholic

Mark and I were sitting on the patio outside our room at our hotel in Palm Springs on Friday evening. We had come for the weekend for a wedding. Suddenly (or so I’m sure it seemed to him), I looked up from the book I was reading and turned to Mark and said, “There’s something about spring and the Easter season that awakens my primal Catholic.”

He looked up from writing in his journal and gave me a quizzical yet somehow knowing look, smiled endearingly, then unscrewed the top of his Mont Blanc pen and began writing again. He knew to leave it alone. 

The book I was reading is entitled The Fifth Gospel, by Ian Caldwell. Quickly climbing the New York Times (hardcover fiction) Bestseller list, the book is a mystery thriller that plays out amidst intrigues in the Vatican. A couple of weeks ago, I finished another Vatican-themed thriller, The Confessor by Dan Silva. I loved/am loving both.

At another time of the year, I might not be inclined to read such books, but this is spring and Easter is approaching, and my primal Catholic is stirring. I say “primal” because I left the Church when I was still in high school, and though I later (including within the past several years) flirted with it - and at one point even considered entering the priesthood – I did not and could not re-embrace it.

So what is it about this time of the year that stirs something deep within me? The simple answer is that I really don’t know. A more complicated answer would probably involve childhood memories of a time when Lent really meant something in our family. A time when the Latin mass was still said. A time when there were Palm Sunday processions around St. Theresa’s Church in Salem, Illinois where we lived. A time of Stations of the Cross. A time when the statues and altar crucifix were draped in black on Good Friday. A time of deep mystery and catharsis, much more mysterious and wondrous and primal than the Christmas season.

The answer would also surely include memories of a trip I took in the spring of 1982 to Europe. I joined a college friend in Paris. We attended Easter mass in Notre Dame Cathedral. The next day, we boarded an overnight train to Rome. When the sun came up, we were somewhere in northern Italy. Soon, we were snaking down the sun-basked peninsula with the Mediterranean on our right. Flowers were blooming. Trees were leafing out. When we pulled into Rome and in the days to come, I saw wisteria everywhere. That was the year I fell in love with spring. Up until that point, I had been strictly an autumn man, thinking that a love of one necessarily excluded love of the other.

I also fell in love with Rome. I wasn't a practicing Catholic, but I loved being in St. Peter's. It wasn't so much a spiritual thing as a historical/cultural thing. And it was spring, and the weather was nice, and life seemed lovely there in sun-kissed Rome.

It was also in spring – the following year – that I experienced a crisis in my life and found my primal Catholic again turning to “Mother Church.” In my confusion and need for some sense of direction and certainty, I turned to prayer and felt God was calling me into the priesthood. But after I shared my thoughts and feelings with my then-employer – a Mormon – she put on a full-court press to get me to join the Mormon Church, an effort in which she was spectacularly successful.

Interestingly, my father also came to a point in his life when he seriously considered entering the priesthood. (Actually, I have come to realize that my life is strikingly similar to my dad's in some important ways.) He was raised Methodist, and there wasn't a Catholic in his family tree for hundreds of years. He converted when he was in college at the University of Illinois. He talked to the monsignor about seminary, and he counseled Dad to go home to the farm for the summer and think it over. In July, Dad met my mother on a blind date and married three months later after a long distance courtship (again the similarity to my life).

My mother was religiously raised as a Catholic by her German grandmother, whose father had been baptized in a church in Sasbach at the edge of the Black Forest, and whose mother - the daughter of immigrants from Lower Franconia near Frankfurt - was christened in St. Peter's Cathedral in Belleville, Illinois. Mark and I were in Germany in 2012, and the lead photo is of the interior of the church in Sasbach.

Four years ago, another spring saw me leaving Mormonism. My primal Catholic again stirred, but I couldn't see myself at that time going from one anti-gay church to another.

In the years since then, I have learned to live with my primal Catholic. Instead of trying to extinguish it or pretend it’s not there, I accept - even welcome - its presence. But I also know that one of the definitions of “primal” is “relating to an early stage in evolutionary development.” I have evolved since my childhood and youth, since that trip to Rome, since that flirtation with the priesthood, since leaving the Mormon Church; and I continue to evolve. But what is primal will remain, and I suspect I will always associate spring and Easter with my Catholic origins.

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying The Fifth Gospel.

Changing the Stance Toward Gays: What the Mormon Community Could Learn From Pope Francis

"If someone is gay ... who am I to judge?"

~ Francis

Pope Francis has made some remarkable statements about gay people - remarkable in the sense that his voice is much more compassionate than those of his immediate predecessors. (See, for example, this most recent statement here.) Yet, he has indicated that he does not intend to change the Catholic Church's doctrine concerning homosexuality, which is very similar to that of the LDS Church, i.e., it's ok if you're gay, but not okay if you physically express your sexuality.

The Catholic position is also similar to that of the Mormon one in that the doctrine of both churches is deeply, some might say implacably, grounded: the Catholic position is based not only on its understanding of certain biblical passages but also on centuries of moral philosophy; the Mormon position is based not only on its understanding of certain biblical passages but also on latter-day revelation.

The Historical Stance

But, writes Jesuit priest John P. Langan, who is the Cardinal Bernardin Professor of Catholic Social Thought at Georgetown University, this grounded doctrinal position doesn't necessarily mean the Catholic Church cannot alter its stance toward gay people. Writing in the current issue of America Magazine, Langan leads his essay with these words which I hope would give any Mormon reader food for thought:

"The stance of the [Catholic] church toward gays and lesbians and their distinctive activities was seen as negative, leading to judgments and condemnations. Of decisive importance was the negative moral judgment on homosexual acts as intrinsically evil. Even though the magisterium [the authority that lays down what is the authentic teaching of the Church] had distinguished between homosexual acts and a homosexual inclination, the intrinsic moral evil of the acts meant that while the sexual orientation was not sinful in itself, it represented an inclination to do sinful things and so had to be resisted [emphasis added]."

I think it is fair to say that Father Langan could have been describing the "Mormon Magisterium," i.e., the First Presidency of the Church and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, in the above passage. The Mormon Magisterium has only relatively recently made the the step of distinguishing homosexual inclination from homosexual acts, but I think it is fair to say that the Mormon Magisterium as well as most lower-level leaders in the LDS Church would agree that while the sexual orientation is not sinful in itself, "it [still] represent[s] an inclination to do sinful things and so [has] to be resisted."

What Father Langan suggests Pope Francis is doing is "prodding us to think about what the stance of the church toward homosexuality should be, rather than what it generally has been" [emphasis added]. He writes:

"A 'stance,' as contrasted with beliefs or theoretical positions, normally brings with it a realization that other factors are at work. It involves a response to positions or movements in the broader social and intellectual world ... Adopting or modifying a stance provides an opportunity to weigh other factors beyond a specific judgment on the moral rightness or wrongness of an act ... One can acknowledge the limits to knowledge and arguments once found persuasive. There are signs that Pope Francis is in the process of thinking along some of these lines."

In other words, there are concrete signs that Francis, while not rethinking doctrine, is and will be encouraging the Catholic Church to accept reality. Gay people exist. They are children of God. The Church needs to reach out to them.

Unfortunately, there are no such signs emanating from the Mormon Magisterium.

Changing the Stance

Father Langan goes on in his article to suggest that there are four elements that should mark a new stance within the Catholic church toward homosexuals and homosexuality.

The first is humility. "We must acknowledge," Langan writes, "what we do not know and what we do not understand about the contemporary situation of homosexuals."

Second, Langan asserts that "we must show respect for the dignity of homosexual persons as creatures of the one God and Father of us all, as members of the community of the redeemed and as fellow citizens of the city and the world ... Desires that homosexuals should cease to exist, or that they should disappear from public space, or that laws should be enacted that would deny their human rights are simply not acceptable."

Third - and here I'll quote more extensively:

"[A]ll parties need to show realism in acknowledging the problems of perception and trust that complicate our efforts to understand and collaborate with one another ... There is a profound need for realism in acknowledging the ambiguities that mark our histories, both personal and social ... Expulsion of those with sexual differences from the sacred precincts of the church and expunging their acts and gifts from our institutional memory may express a detestation of intrinsic evil, but it also carries with it an effective denial of common humanity ... Looking seriously at the communities in which we participate will disclose a complex tapestry in which the multicolored threads of the rainbow catch and reflect light, increase splendor and range, and are to be gratefully received."

Fourth, "during this period of scrutiny and reassessment, we must be patient with ourselves, with each other and with the friends and allies of the contesting groups both in the public arena and in the life of the church."

A Pastoral Ministry

What I personally see as the most noteworthy change in the stance towards homosexuals by the Catholic Church is the growing recognition, spearheaded by Francis, that the Church needs to accept the reality of gay people and minister to them. "The new stance on the subject of homosexuality," writes Langan, "should open up possibilities for affirming the human dignity of homosexuals. It should also acknowledge their need for an appropriate form of pastoral ministry ... " [emphasis added]. Langan further writes:

"The principal change would not be in the teaching of the church on the moral acceptability of homosexual activity, but in affirming and practicing pastoral ministry for persons engaged in irregular or questionable unions. Ministry would be carried on in a more tentative, inquiring spirit; it would be more intent on providing care and encouraging growth for persons, many of whom have known many sorrows, than in implementing policies within bureaucratic and legal frameworks."

Similar thoughts were recently echoed by Cardinal Lorenzo Baldisseri who is the general secretary of the Synod on the Family that will be held in Rome in October. The Vatican has been collecting responses from bishops around the world to a survey that was sent out last fall. Baldisseri told the Vatican newspaper that the responses received to date show "much suffering, especially by those who feel excluded or abandoned by the Church because they find themselves in a state of life that does not correspond to the Church’s doctrine and discipline." [Is this sounding familiar?] Quoting from the above-linked article:

"The results compiled by the bishops’ conferences, [Baldisseri] said, show 'the urgency of recognising the lived reality of the people and of beginning a pastoral dialogue with those who have distanced themselves from the Church for various reasons ...' Pope Francis, he said, 'shows, day after day, a new human and Christian approach that stimulates people and prepares them to listen and to accept what is good for them, even if there is suffering'."

Changing the Mormon Stance

In light of the foregoing, I offer the following thoughts:

A Pastoral Ministry. There is no pastoral ministry within the Mormon Church to its LGBT members, unless you consider a website and a couple of manuals a "ministry." There is no central place within the Church where leaders of all levels can turn for resources; no program of training a lay ministry how to minister to gays and lesbians; no leadership from the highest levels of the Magisterium; no statements of a positive nature emanating out of General Conference or from Church magazines. 

In short, there is virtually nothing that the LDS Church as an institution is doing to minister to its LGBT community. Just imagine how fantastic it would be if the Church had an outreach program that featured a "tentative, inquiring spirit" that was "more intent on providing care and encouraging growth for persons, many of whom have known many sorrows, than in implementing policies within bureaucratic and legal frameworks."

All of these things could be done by the hierarchy. But it would require a change in stance by the Mormon Magisterium.

The Role of the Mormon Laity. In the Catholic Church, it is a well-known fact that the vast majority of American Catholics (the "laity") hold views on many social issues that are widely divergent from that of the hierarchy. Mormons don't usually think in terms of "laity" and "hierarchy," but I would suggest that the Mormon Church, even though it has a lay ministry (below the general authority level), has a laity, consisting of rank and file Mormons, the overwhelming majority of which are in no position to effect Mormon doctrine, policy or practice.

Just as in the Catholic Church, it has been the laity of the Mormon Church that has been on the vanguard of change when it comes to the LDS stance towards homosexuality. Through Facebook groups, conferences, and informal exchanges in ward and stake houses across the country (and perhaps in other countries?), hearts and minds are being opened. People are stepping forward to be the ministry that the institutional church does not provide. The stance of the Mormon laity toward homosexuality is gradually being changed from the ground up. Increasingly, families are rallying - or as Carol Lynn Pearson so beautifully put it, circling the wagons - around their LGBT loved ones.

The question remains, will the Mormon Magisterium look to Francis' example and acknowledge the reality that exists among its members? Will it minister? Will a leader emerge who will lead? Will the Church as an institution change its stance?

I suppose one can always hope.

The Real Sin: Withholding Consent to Life

"Adult faith is fidelity to our own intuitive experience ..."

~ David Richo, Catholic Means Universal

One of the books I've been reading the past while is entitled Universal Means Catholic, by David Richo, who in the prologue describes himself as "a formerly active Catholic priest, now a Jungian psychotherapist and teacher on a Buddhist path." I have read a couple of his other books, and I am finding Universal to be even more thought-provoking, especially as I have recently embarked on a new path in my spiritual journey.

The basic thrust of Richo's book is that disaffected Catholics can look at Catholicism in new ways, ways which are reflective of an "adult faith." In his first chapter, Richo addresses those who may have felt abused, in various ways, by the Catholic Church in their youth. I have found that discussion to be extremely interesting, not because I was abused by the Church, but in connection with the abuse I encountered at home.

But Richo's discussion also resonates with respect to my experience of being in the Mormon Church for almost 30 years. The following passage, in which Richo writes of Catholics who may have defied the church's strictures to forge a new path, also spoke to my own departure from Mormonism:

“We have stepped out of line, taken power into our own hands. To do this is scary because it entails risking the loss of approval or endangering the means of survival. Actually, we have explored or exposed a part of ourselves that reveals us to ourselves. We have come to the frontier of a new identity: one that allows us to say no to an external voice in favor of an inner intuitive voice. Identity for adults begins precisely at the point where blind obedience to external imperatives comes to an end and new steps beyond the safe horizons begin. A common theme in myths is that of the hero or heroine who enters the secret room, opens the locked box, or eats the forbidden fruit of knowledge. This knowledge is power, and reclaiming it may be what scares us most of all. The hero is the personification of our urgent desire to individuate no matter what it may take.”

Of course, when I read this, I immediately thought of my coming out. When I had that visceral reaction to LDS Apostle Boyd Packer’s talk a little over three years ago, a very big part of my identity was revealed to me. I came to the frontier of my new gay identity, allowing me to say no to external voices and embrace my inner intuitive voice. I left behind blind obedience to external imperatives and stepped beyond the horizon into a whole new world. 

The inner intuitive voice is the articulator of "inner liveliness." Writes Richo:

“Healthy community enterprises [such as churches] are aimed at serving individual wholeness. This means encouraging our lively energy to be released. Lively energy is our exuberance, our brightest enthusiasms, our imperishable passions, our irrepressibilities – what becomes our bliss. This energy is meant to open more and more in the course of life in the service of our deepest needs, values and wishes. It makes us capable of giving joy to others. This is the very same elemental energy in the universe itself. It is what raises a storm at sea or erupts as a volcano … 

“A personal relationship to God means honoring the organic unity of ourselves, nature and God. This happens when we are in touch with our liveliness. Nothing can annihilate it, but can only divert it. We can get it back at any time by our program of recovery: grieving the past, feeling our feelings about it, and letting go of it while preserving its riches. 

“Our lively energy makes us able to dare and to defy. Recovery from our religious past may mean defiance of its power over us in the present. Morality is not moral if it contradicts good psychological sense or the healthy inclinations of nature. Morality was never meant to interfere with the full activation of our human powers and possibilities. When we remain afraid to say no to violations of our liveliness, we are at the mercy of them and eventually even inflict them on ourselves. If we are afraid to laugh or weep or sing because of prohibitions, our lively energy is blunted and even dispelled. Once religion is recognized as a tool for liberation, withheld consent to life is the real sin.”

To quote Mormon founder Joseph Smith, "This is sound doctrine. It tastes good." It resonates. It feeds. It inspires.

From the Archives: Me, My Inner Catholic Boy and Coming Out

In May 2011, I published the following piece on my former blog. I have slightly edited it and have added some additional comments at the end. (The picture above is of my first communion class at St. Theresa's Church in Salem, Illinois, 5 December 1965. I am second row far left in front of Sister Mary Josine. Father (stern-face) Sulkowski is in back.)

************

About six weeks ago, I went to a Catholic mass for the first time in 25 years.  I didn’t know how I would feel or what I would think. I was amazed that morning how many memories from my childhood came flooding into my mind, how many parts of the mass came back to me, how I was able to almost instinctively give some of the prayer responses after all this time. I was also touched, that first Sunday, by the priest’s homily, which struck me as far more profound and “true” than virtually any [Mormon] sacrament meeting talk I had ever heard. I came away feeling like I wanted to go back.

That opportunity came the next Sunday, as a (gay Mormon) friend expressed a desire to attend mass. So I took him. I found my thoughts that Sunday turning toward my mother, who had been raised Catholic and who had died several years before I came out. She and I had had a troubled relationship during the last 15 years of her life because of my abusive childhood. But, as I attended mass and thought of her, I came to see her in a new light, and I felt like I was imbued with grace to forgive her for the abuse I had suffered as a child at her hand.  

My mother as a young woman with two unknown girls
in front of a Catholic church and convent in East St. Louis, where she grew up

That grace continued to bless me as new thoughts came into my mind about my mother.  It occurred to me, for example, that both she and I had tried to achieve perfection in our respective families, only to become our own worst enemies.  Both my mother and I had desperately tried to do the “right thing” – she trying to be the perfect Catholic mother and have perfect Catholic children; me trying to be the perfect straight Mormon father and have the perfect Mormon family. But in both our cases, irony of ironies, doing the “right thing” got in the way of that which was truly needful – the formation and nurturance of healthy, happy family relationships.

My older sister Karen's first communion day, with Mom and my brothers (I'm in front of Karen)

I bring this up about my mother because it made me think about the faith of my childhood and youth: Catholicism. Attending mass also seemed to be precipitating the endowment of grace I was experiencing with respect to my mother. I pondered over this and went back the following week, ostensibly to give my son the opportunity to fulfill school requirements and to see a different religious service.  

The real reason, however, is that I wanted to go back: something was resonating with me. I was having “spiritual” experiences as I attended mass. I felt like I was reconnecting to something that had been lost. I also felt like I was at the right place at the right time during this part of my journey.

Because of these feelings, I began to consider the possibility of going back to the Catholic Church. I thought about it. I looked up what I would need to do to go back. I even communicated with my brother – who is an active Catholic – about it.  

I went to mass again on Palm Sunday. I was beginning to feel other currents, however, that challenged the feelings I had been having about the Catholic Church. Specifically, I wondered whether I could ever feel at home in a church and faith that did not accept me for who I am - gay.  What I came to realize is that, though there are aspects of the Catholic faith that resonate with me, and perhaps will always resonate with me, I didn’t want to be part of a faith community that is not accepting of members of the LGBT community.  

I also came to realize, I think, that my gayness had in fact become part of my personal theology, my personal relationship with God, and I began to feel I could not be part of a faith community that conflicts with that personal theology and does not affirm that personal relationship.

This was brought home to me in a discussion around that time with my sister about religion, sexuality and faith.  I realized, during the course of that conversation, that even though I had intellectually accepted that God created me the way I am and that He loves me for who I am, I was, nevertheless, not fully “out” to God – or so I felt. I saw that there was still a part of me that believed that God could not or would not accept me for who I am. That part of me, that person, had been well entrenched within me for decades – one of the many consequences of living in the closet for all that time – and would not be easily silenced. 

I was still seeking permission to be who I am.

*********

During the past 2-1/2 years, I have given myself permission to be who I am. It's an on-going process, but I have journeyed many, many miles since I wrote the above piece. Since that time, I have come to see that I do not need permission from some members of the Catholic hierarchy to be gay. Nor do I need permission from any members of a faith community to be who I am. I realize now that the thoughts I expressed in May 2011 were those of someone who had not yet developed an "adult faith." 

A Catholic Buddhist psychologist that has written books that have had a profound impact upon me over the past 3+ years - David Richo - has expressed where I think I am now in his book, How To Be An Adult in Faith and Spirituality:

"[Adults who have a maturing faith] want to think for themselves and design beliefs based on their experience ... they trust an inner organic wisdom over injunctions that impose one set of values on everyone ... they want to feel devotion in accord with what moves their hearts."

Speaking of an organic spirituality, I had a profound realization the other day that is a reflection of where I spent almost 30 years of my adult life, i.e., in the Mormon Church. The realization? That the question is not whether a "church" is "true," but rather whether a church/religion/spiritual path is "true" for ME. 

And so I have embarked on a path that is true for ME, that is based on MY experience, not someone else's.

Changes and October Surprises

In a way, it's hard to believe that we arrived home a little over four weeks ago from our trip to Hawaii and Japan.* So much has happened.

That's one reason I haven't written a post in almost five weeks. Another reason is that I simply haven't felt like it. I've gone through yet another one of those periods where I am ambivalent to writing - at least publicly. I've written lots in my journal, but I hesitate how much of that I want to share on my blog. But, on the other hand, there is a lot that has been going on - both internally (i.e., in my head) and in our (Mark and I's) life together, and I think it is time to try to catch up.

Moving On - Literally

First off, we're moving. During our week in Maui after returning from Japan, Mark came to the decision - for several reasons - to sell our current home, a decision which I fully supported. Some of those reasons: The yard is very demanding and requires a lot of work. Mark, who has loved playing in the dirt his whole life, decided, due to his cancer, to leave that behind. As he put it, he'd rather spend his time walking in the woods than weeding, trying to get the waterfall going, constantly worrying about whether everything is getting enough water, etc.

Another reason: we need a place that has more room for the kids when they come over. There were other reasons. The time had come.

It's hard to believe, but in the past four weeks, we found another place, plan to close on it in two weeks, listed our house and have started packing. Just when we expected life to return to some semblance of normalcy after the previous six months ... well, let's just say that life continues to surprise us.

We love our new place (pictured above). It will provide everything we were looking for. I'll be blogging more about it, I suppose, after we close and move in. For now, I'll just say that we love it and are excited about making it ours.

New Parent-Time Schedule

Another big change this past month has been the implementation of my new parent time arrangement with my former wife, whereby I'll have the little kids for the entire weekend every other week. Previously, I had them every Saturday and every other Friday night, which didn't allow us enough time to relax and just hang without keeping an eye on the clock. We are going to enjoy this time even more once we move and the kids have their own bedrooms and lots of space to play in our basement room.

A couple of weeks ago, I took the "Triads," (Aaron, Esther and Levi) to Lagoon (a local amusement park) - their first time - and we had a lot of fun. (Annie had a playdate/sleepover with the daughter of some friends.)

We've had a *gorgeous* fall here along the Wasatch

This weekend, we're celebrating all four of the kids' birthdays. (Therein lies a tale. Aaron and Esther were born 12 days apart in the same hospital in Nakhodka, Russia (near Vladivostok) and both went to the same orphanage. Aaron was born on October 19th and Esther October 31st, but when we legally adopted them, we move their birth dates to October 25th (an even split) so that they could effectively be raised as twins. (It seemed like a good idea at the time.) Two years later, our biological surprise, Levi, was born on November 1st. Then, when we went back to Russia to adopt another little girl, it turned out that the one we got - Annie - was born on October 23rd. So, four birthdays within 10 days of each other.)

Levi working on his birthday present - Halo Lego

Levi and I could both use some orthodontic work

Aaron and Esther on their rip sticks. Annie, who is also really good, had just toppled off hers and was in her "I hate the world" pose.

Mark's Health

Mark's health continues to be very good. His PSA continues to remain very low, for which we're grateful. He had another hormone shot in early October and will be due for another in April. He is strong and active, working out at the gym most days and going to yoga classes almost every day. Meanwhile, he continues his part-time work as a hospice doctor, which he enjoys, and - as ever - his spiritual path. He is a great and wonderful teacher to me, and this is one of the many reasons that I love him.

Challenges 

I dealt with some health issues in the week or so after we returned home - both physical and emotional. I had been having increasingly bad stomach aches and abdominal pain while we were in Japan, and I was frankly becoming a bit concerned, as was Mark. But after running some tests and doing a scan, everything came back "normal." That left "irritable bowel syndrome." I think this had been coming on for some time, and the pain and discomfort forced me to make some changes in my diet: eliminating gluten as much as possible; cutting back on my already-low consumption of dairy products; cutting out junk food altogether; cleansing; avoiding anything made with flour; etc. And I'm feeling better, I'm happy to say.

Emotionally, a series of events collided around the time we got home that led me to some additional realizations about my former marriage, my ex-wife, my mother and about me. Good realizations. Insightful, teaching moments, but not without some pain. But, as my counselor said, I have to feel to heal. And I continue to do that - heal.

All of these developments - the house, the emotional and physical challenges, as well as dealing with some legal matters - led to an increasing sense that I was closing one chapter of my life and was preparing to start a new one. 

New Directions

But another "October surprise" for me came as I pondered my spiritual path. Our trip to Japan had been jarring for me in this regard. Without going into all the details, suffice it to say that I became somewhat disenchanted with Buddhism; not the principles of mindfulness, accepting suffering as a fact of life, releasing attachments, etc., but rather the "religion" of Buddhism.

Interior of the Cathedral of the Madeleine here in Salt Lake City

Mormonism and my involvement in it for nearly three decades of my adult life was deeply harmful and hurtful to me and left me scarred in many ways. I have been trying for three years to move on and to heal, and I believe I have been successful at that in some very important ways. 

One of the things that has helped me tremendously through this process was the fact that I had a life before I embraced Mormonism at age 24. I was raised in the Catholic church, and this was my formative experience for the first 17 years of my life. Thereafter, I was exposed to Methodism and to the Episcopal Church, but I had come back to Catholicism immediately prior to my introduction to the Mormon missionaries.

One constant throughout my life is that I have always been a "spiritual" person (or perhaps "religious" would be a better term). I have learned much during the past two years about western Buddhist teachings which I have found helpful in my life. But my experience in Japan demonstrated to me that I needed something more, or something different (a realization I had been slowly coming to for several months). I missed being part of a spiritual community. I missed the opportunity to (as Mormons would say) render service. Though I could not and cannot approach Christianity the way I used to, I came to feel that I wanted to "approach" Christianity again, in an exploratory manner.

I knew, however, that I could not be comfortable in a Protestant church. Though there are a number of gay-friendly churches here in Salt Lake - including Episcopal ones - I know that I would not feel comfortable there - for reasons which I don't feel it necessary for me to expound. 

So, my thoughts have turned to Catholicism. Not to the Catholicism of my youth. Not to the Catholicism of anti-gay members of the church's hierarchy. No, I knew if I were to approach Catholicism at this point in my life, it would be on my own terms, with an "adult faith" which would not be circumscribed by official dogma, doctrine or by bigoted, close-minded members of the hierarchy (and which would also not be bound by a number of traditional Catholic beliefs which I do not share). One of the things that appeals to me about this exploration, and which has enticed me into it, is the breadth and depth of Catholic thought that is not constrained by hierarchy, and I have already sought out and will continue to seek out those strands of thought that will complement what I have been learning in the past two years. And I'm sure I will be doing some writing about that in the coming weeks.

Some concluding words: As I embark on this new trail in my spiritual journey, I am grateful for all that I have learned about Buddhism during the past two years, and I am reminded of some thoughts shared by the Dalai Lama upon meeting Thomas Merton in 1968 in Dharmsala, India. Of this experience, one in Merton's party wrote, “the Dalai Lama (encouraged) each of us to remain faithful to our own tradition. He says, ‘We need to experience more deeply the meanings and spiritual values of our own religious tradition--we need to know these teachings not only on an intellectual level but also through our own deeper experience. We must practice our own religion sincerely; it must become part of our lives.’"

This is what I hope to achieve as I start down this trail. We'll see what happens ...

*The lead picture is of the "guest board" outside the 350-year-old inn where we stayed near the end of our Japan trip.

Of Fundamentalism and Paradoxes

"What the fundamental ambiguity of being human points to is that as much as we want to, we can never say, 'This is the only true way. This is how it is. End of discussion.' ... As individuals, we have plenty of fundamentalist tendencies. We use them to comfort ourselves. We grab onto a position or belief as a way of neatly expressing reality, unwilling to tolerate the uncertainty and discomfort of staying open to other possibilities. We cling to that position as our personal platform and become very dogmatic about it."

~ Pema Chodron

When I read the above passage the other day, I became very excited about it because of the window of understanding it gave me about why I joined the Mormon Church 30 years ago at age 24. I had already been thinking about that period of life because of what one of my daughters is going through right now. She is trying to find a jumping off point into life and has said a number of times recently, in an anxious tone, that she "needs to get on with her life." Similarly, I had said this 31 years ago after my dad's oilfield equipment company (where I worked) went into bankruptcy and I suddenly found myself looking for a new job in a new location in a difficult economy.

As the months had worn on back in late 1982 and early 1983, I became more anxious. I had to do something! Similarly to Rachel, however, my direction in life had already been somewhat muddled by circumstances. I didn't have a good sense (at all) of who I was or what I wanted to do in life. But the uncertainty and the sense that I wasn't getting any younger pushed me to say, "I've got to figure out what I'm going to do with my life!!" Then I moved to New Orleans (from Ohio), then back to Ohio, where I suffered a serious blow when the deal to buy my dad's company (and provide me a job) fell through.

In the midst of this great uncertainty, I watched The Thorn Birds - a mini-series about the life of a priest in the Australian outback. Doing so inspired me, in a very juvenile way, to shift my question. Instead of asking or saying, "I've" got to figure out what I want to do with my life, I asked "I've got to figure out what God wants me to do with my life."

This shift in thinking caused me to think about my strengths and weaknesses, and I came up with the idea that I should be a priest. I should return to the faith of my childhood - not because I wanted to live in that faith as a part of my life, but because I wanted that to be my life. I sought for certainty, a life that was all laid out for me. I sought certainty in dogma and vocation because I simply couldn't stand the discomfort and uncertainty of less concrete options. I was so out of touch with myself that I couldn't conceive of creating a life. I was much more comfortable with the concept of having a life imposed (voluntarily) upon me - sort of life an off-the-rack suit.

Enter, stage left, the Mormon Church. Mormonism, among other things, offered me certainty - not only in terms of theology abut also in terms of my existential angst about what to do with my life. So, instead of embracing the "certainty" of life in a seminary and then as a priest, I embraced a future that looked in many ways like a better deal. I could see my life unfolding: mission, marriage, law school (other "certainty" in terms of a career, in that it was a ready-made profession), children, living the "Plan of Happiness," being led and guided by the Spirit and by leaders and inspired prophets and apostles. Couldn't get much more certain than that.

And so I jumped in head first. And, just as Pema Chodron comments, I became dogmatic about it. I finally understand why I was so fundamentalist and dogmatic in a number of ways, both in terms of Mormon dogma (the more conservative the better) and how I applied that dogma to my life and was guided by it: it was the Certainty that first attracted me to Mormonism, and I could not tolerate uncertainty.

(Parenthetically, it is this very Certainty that is the evil genius of Mormonism. A primary tenet of Buddhist thought is that the world is constantly, inevitably changing, and that resistance to that change and uncertainty causes suffering. Nevertheless, change and the resulting uncertainty makes people feel uncomfortable. Thus they seek for certainty. Mormonism gives them that.)

This insight somehow makes me feel better about my life. It helps explain the paradox that existed between this certainty and the intellectual curiosity I have always had as well as my innate rebellious streak. It explains why I could be dogmatic, while at the same time cherish Thomas Jefferson's saying that he had "sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man."

When one has experienced as many paradoxes in one's life as have I, it provides comfort to come to understand and resolve one of them - like finally dropping a missing piece of a puzzle into place. It also helps me forgive myself for what I did - both to myself and to others.

* Posts I have written about why I joined the Mormon Church can be found here and here.