This really is a fabulous piece, Travis. The metaphor of ontogenetic adaptations is a perfect way to have kindness toward our individual and collective past. Thanks for writing this.
I would like to bring a "queer person of faith" perspective into the conversation. This line: "Suddenly, what once presented itself as an imperfection can be seen for its importance and necessity to our people" ignores the lived experience of queer Latter-day Saints. I must first acknowledge that queer people have been hugely harmed in the modern church over the past 70 years by the "immaturities that helped us to arrive at the place where we are now." In fact, the place we are at right now is still rooted in the "immaturity" of prejudice, harassment, and discrimination laid bare in the exclusion in our theology from exaltation, our families in heaven, and our heavenly parents. Nothing is more dangerous for a queer person of faith than "authoritative immaturity.”
Prejudice and misunderstandings about queer people from the pulpit have been paraded before the Saints over the past 70 years. These messages change over time. These "immaturities of thought" are discarded as "new information" comes along about queer people and as the general public no longer attaches value in the narratives taught about queer people, no longer tolerating the message or rejecting actions that such words incite. But what hasn't changed over time is the doctrinal premise that the queer person in their authenticity cannot be exalted.
I find no good, importance, or necessity in the words and actions of yesterday concerning the queer children of God. As a body of Saints we must not reconcile past actions or deem them important or necessary for progression in an ongoing Restoration. This gives prejudice power. Such thinking is disrespectful to the owner of the ongoing Restoration: Christ. A bad or evil action of yesterday can simply be and remain a bad and evil action.
An example. I was from a generation of gay men in the Church who was instructed, as a matter of policy, to marry a woman. Like many others in my generation we were told that being gay was not a thing, and if we just had faith and practiced obedience with exactness, everything would be alright. It was the will of God. With all the audacity that "immature authority" exudes, we were told to tell no one about our "homosexual feelings" as if it was shameful and harmful to reveal. This set my life course. I obeyed and had five most wonderful children. They are absolute good in my life and my richest blessings. However, my mixed orientation marriage did not survive. The collapse of this immature narrative about gay people in the 1980s caused immense pain, harm and trauma to me, my former spouse, and my children. The tears of children and the corpses of dead marriages litter the halls of the Church today as a result of the mixed orientation policy implemented in the earlier generations of sexual minorities in the Church. The Church stopped officially sanctioning mixed orientation marriages as a policy for it's gay population, and now officially teaches a "single and celibate"narrative. This is a change, but it is change without change. Equity and justice, the two attributes spoken of in the Book of Mormon of a Zion people who enjoy peace and prosperity, is still nowhere to be found in the matter of the queer Latter-day Saint.
The Church does not get to use the absolute good of my children in my life as justification or an excuse for what it did to my life, my former wife's life, or my children's life. It was wrong, harmful, and immoral. The idea that I would never have my children in my life if the Church didn't guide me into a mixed orientation marriage, so it was a blessing and good is repulsive. I claim the goodness of my children in my life and at the same time condemn the prejudice and acts of prejudice inflicted upon my queer soul at the hands of the Church I loved dearly. I will never surrender the existence of my children as a prop to support immoral actions. I reject the premise that "if the Church didn't act that way in the past, then you wouldn't have the goodness of your children in the present." "Good" outcomes from immoral acts happen with humans. It's an paradox of the human experience. But "good" outcomes absolutely do not ever excuse, erase, or make immoral actions, moral, important, or necessary.
So what do we do in this paradox? In the case of queer Latter-day Saints and those who were driven from the faith because of their queerness and are now refugees from the faith, we never call the immoral actions of the past an "important" or "necessary" attribute of the ongoing restoration. Never.
A good place to start in the reconcilation is to sit in the paradox and acknowledge that past words and actions towards queer Latter-day Saints have been a harmful—and even deadly attribute—of the ongoing Restoration. And then apologize for what we have done to one another in the name of God.
Thank you so much for this needed perspective, Nathan. I intentionally didn't comment on the church's history with LGBTQ+ issues in this essay because 1) I felt unqualified to comment from my positionality as a straight cisgender member of the church, and 2) I agree with you that hate and prejudice of any kind is completely antithetical to the church's development and ongoing restoration. To the extent that church teachings and policies directly affecting the queer community were/are motivated by the prejudice of past and current church leaders, they are not "ontogenetic adaptations" but rather "developmental delays." Again, my intention in writing this essay was to provide a framework through which some past imperfections could be seen as important or necessary for the church in some way, not to assert that all messy aspects of our church history and doctrine must be seen from this point of view. To use Alma's analogy, if you've planted the seed of this idea in your heart and find it is not yielding good fruit when applied to the queer LDS experience (or any other episode of church history), then it may not be the right metaphor for that particular time in our history.
All that being said, thank you again for reading my essay and providing this critical feedback. I hope queer voices in the church will continue to speak up on these subjects because if any constructive metaphor or framework for viewing that aspect of our history does exist, I believe it will come from your voices, not mine.
Thank you for your thoughtful reply! We are all better when we utilize the ability to broach queer issues rooted from a "faith" perspective, not from a "faithful" perspective. Faith allows for the lived experiences of the Saints. "Faithful" supports the dominant narrative and often turns into virtue signalling. Watch for my memoir from BCC Press later this year about my service as president of Affirmation: LGBTQ Mormons, Families & Friends: The Boughs of Love: Navigating the Queer Latter-day Saint Experience during an Ongoing Restoration. I think you will like it, it adds to the "needed voice" you point out.
It would pair well with Matt Bowman's framing of church history as a series of presidencies that had their own unique challenges that couldn't be faced without ignoring other problems.
That's a great question, Garrett. There was a draft of this essay in which I touched briefly on polygamy, suggesting that my ontogenetic framework could be applied to that issue. But ultimately, I (with the help of my fantastic editors) decided to leave that out so that others more qualified to speak to that issue (i.e., women in the church) could "experiment upon my word" and see if this framework feels right to apply in that instance. My positionality in writing this is as a White, heterosexual, cisgender male, and while I am happy to share my framework, I think the application of it to thornier episodes in church history (e.g., polygamy, the race-based priesthood and temple ban, LGBTQ+ issues) should be done by those who are most directly affected by those episodes in our history (e.g., women, black members, queer members). That being said, if you have found that my framework helps you to look at these thorny issues in a way that is helpful and conducive of good things, I couldn't be happier!
This really is a fabulous piece, Travis. The metaphor of ontogenetic adaptations is a perfect way to have kindness toward our individual and collective past. Thanks for writing this.
I would like to bring a "queer person of faith" perspective into the conversation. This line: "Suddenly, what once presented itself as an imperfection can be seen for its importance and necessity to our people" ignores the lived experience of queer Latter-day Saints. I must first acknowledge that queer people have been hugely harmed in the modern church over the past 70 years by the "immaturities that helped us to arrive at the place where we are now." In fact, the place we are at right now is still rooted in the "immaturity" of prejudice, harassment, and discrimination laid bare in the exclusion in our theology from exaltation, our families in heaven, and our heavenly parents. Nothing is more dangerous for a queer person of faith than "authoritative immaturity.”
Prejudice and misunderstandings about queer people from the pulpit have been paraded before the Saints over the past 70 years. These messages change over time. These "immaturities of thought" are discarded as "new information" comes along about queer people and as the general public no longer attaches value in the narratives taught about queer people, no longer tolerating the message or rejecting actions that such words incite. But what hasn't changed over time is the doctrinal premise that the queer person in their authenticity cannot be exalted.
I find no good, importance, or necessity in the words and actions of yesterday concerning the queer children of God. As a body of Saints we must not reconcile past actions or deem them important or necessary for progression in an ongoing Restoration. This gives prejudice power. Such thinking is disrespectful to the owner of the ongoing Restoration: Christ. A bad or evil action of yesterday can simply be and remain a bad and evil action.
An example. I was from a generation of gay men in the Church who was instructed, as a matter of policy, to marry a woman. Like many others in my generation we were told that being gay was not a thing, and if we just had faith and practiced obedience with exactness, everything would be alright. It was the will of God. With all the audacity that "immature authority" exudes, we were told to tell no one about our "homosexual feelings" as if it was shameful and harmful to reveal. This set my life course. I obeyed and had five most wonderful children. They are absolute good in my life and my richest blessings. However, my mixed orientation marriage did not survive. The collapse of this immature narrative about gay people in the 1980s caused immense pain, harm and trauma to me, my former spouse, and my children. The tears of children and the corpses of dead marriages litter the halls of the Church today as a result of the mixed orientation policy implemented in the earlier generations of sexual minorities in the Church. The Church stopped officially sanctioning mixed orientation marriages as a policy for it's gay population, and now officially teaches a "single and celibate"narrative. This is a change, but it is change without change. Equity and justice, the two attributes spoken of in the Book of Mormon of a Zion people who enjoy peace and prosperity, is still nowhere to be found in the matter of the queer Latter-day Saint.
The Church does not get to use the absolute good of my children in my life as justification or an excuse for what it did to my life, my former wife's life, or my children's life. It was wrong, harmful, and immoral. The idea that I would never have my children in my life if the Church didn't guide me into a mixed orientation marriage, so it was a blessing and good is repulsive. I claim the goodness of my children in my life and at the same time condemn the prejudice and acts of prejudice inflicted upon my queer soul at the hands of the Church I loved dearly. I will never surrender the existence of my children as a prop to support immoral actions. I reject the premise that "if the Church didn't act that way in the past, then you wouldn't have the goodness of your children in the present." "Good" outcomes from immoral acts happen with humans. It's an paradox of the human experience. But "good" outcomes absolutely do not ever excuse, erase, or make immoral actions, moral, important, or necessary.
So what do we do in this paradox? In the case of queer Latter-day Saints and those who were driven from the faith because of their queerness and are now refugees from the faith, we never call the immoral actions of the past an "important" or "necessary" attribute of the ongoing restoration. Never.
A good place to start in the reconcilation is to sit in the paradox and acknowledge that past words and actions towards queer Latter-day Saints have been a harmful—and even deadly attribute—of the ongoing Restoration. And then apologize for what we have done to one another in the name of God.
Thank you so much for this needed perspective, Nathan. I intentionally didn't comment on the church's history with LGBTQ+ issues in this essay because 1) I felt unqualified to comment from my positionality as a straight cisgender member of the church, and 2) I agree with you that hate and prejudice of any kind is completely antithetical to the church's development and ongoing restoration. To the extent that church teachings and policies directly affecting the queer community were/are motivated by the prejudice of past and current church leaders, they are not "ontogenetic adaptations" but rather "developmental delays." Again, my intention in writing this essay was to provide a framework through which some past imperfections could be seen as important or necessary for the church in some way, not to assert that all messy aspects of our church history and doctrine must be seen from this point of view. To use Alma's analogy, if you've planted the seed of this idea in your heart and find it is not yielding good fruit when applied to the queer LDS experience (or any other episode of church history), then it may not be the right metaphor for that particular time in our history.
All that being said, thank you again for reading my essay and providing this critical feedback. I hope queer voices in the church will continue to speak up on these subjects because if any constructive metaphor or framework for viewing that aspect of our history does exist, I believe it will come from your voices, not mine.
Thank you for your thoughtful reply! We are all better when we utilize the ability to broach queer issues rooted from a "faith" perspective, not from a "faithful" perspective. Faith allows for the lived experiences of the Saints. "Faithful" supports the dominant narrative and often turns into virtue signalling. Watch for my memoir from BCC Press later this year about my service as president of Affirmation: LGBTQ Mormons, Families & Friends: The Boughs of Love: Navigating the Queer Latter-day Saint Experience during an Ongoing Restoration. I think you will like it, it adds to the "needed voice" you point out.
Wonderful perspective.
It would pair well with Matt Bowman's framing of church history as a series of presidencies that had their own unique challenges that couldn't be faced without ignoring other problems.
Beautifully done. This is the healing perspective I need. Thanks Travis.
Great metaphor. I was waiting for it to be applied to the thornier stuff like polygamy & race. What is our metaphor for those, if any?
That's a great question, Garrett. There was a draft of this essay in which I touched briefly on polygamy, suggesting that my ontogenetic framework could be applied to that issue. But ultimately, I (with the help of my fantastic editors) decided to leave that out so that others more qualified to speak to that issue (i.e., women in the church) could "experiment upon my word" and see if this framework feels right to apply in that instance. My positionality in writing this is as a White, heterosexual, cisgender male, and while I am happy to share my framework, I think the application of it to thornier episodes in church history (e.g., polygamy, the race-based priesthood and temple ban, LGBTQ+ issues) should be done by those who are most directly affected by those episodes in our history (e.g., women, black members, queer members). That being said, if you have found that my framework helps you to look at these thorny issues in a way that is helpful and conducive of good things, I couldn't be happier!