Meeting w/ the Bishop #4

I am at a bit of a loss as to how I should word today's post. Maybe I'll just start at the beginning and things will start to make sense as I write...

The bishop sent me a text message this past Tuesday evening while I was at my choir practice (the real choir I sing with, not the church one I play the piano for), asking if I would be able to meet with him this Sunday afternoon. I jokingly said, "Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?" He responded, "Of course not! I just want to see how you're doing." Knowing that it was probably more than just that, I told him I would come in.


I wondered all week what I would say to him. I knew, especially after our previous three meetings, that the conversation would somehow include my sexuality and spirituality, as those were the two primary things we  had focused on. Up until this point, we had not talked about any specific religious issues that I have or any of my issues with the Mormon church. Religion had come up only inasmuch as it dealt with my sexuality. He knew I was only attending sacrament meeting; he knew that I was not taking the sacrament. But that's it.

I was trying all week to decide if I should be blunt and lay it all out there, or if I should try to word things in a way that "softened the blow." I wanted him to know where I'm at, but I couldn't shake this feeling that I would be disappointing him. Truth be told, I have been enjoying the friendship of him and his family outside of church--I've gone to their house twice for dinner, they've come over here once, and I did the jump into frozen Lake Michigan with them on Christmas day--and I have been worried that if he knew where I stand in my views on religion, he would no longer want to be my friend.

The meeting began as it always does: he shakes my hand, we sit down, he asks if I'll give a prayer, I tell him that he can go ahead, and he gives the prayer. When he started talking after that, he seemed a bit flummoxed, like he was trying to find words that weren't coming as easily as they usually do for him. He was talking about what things are "usually like" when someone has a calling, how they should live their lives outside church in a way that always always allows for the Spirit to be present, and how no matter what the calling, they are expected to maintain worthiness to hold that calling. "I've never really asked you about your sexual activity or if you are even currently sexually active..." Ah yes, I thought, I know where this is going. I had expected this conversation to happen much earlier, but assumed he was waiting until I was too deep into my calling as the choir pianist to back out easily. I assumed he was about to tell me that in order to hold a calling, I had to maintain celibacy, adhere to the Word of Wisdom, have a testimony of the church, etc.

"You maybe thought it was kinda weird when I gave you that calling," he said.

"Well, yeah. To be honest, I was pretty surprised."

He laughed. "Well, I'm about to give you another one."

Uhh.... Say what??

Seeing the look on my face, a mix between incredulity and discomfort, he said, "Just hear me out before you respond at all."

He said that there were a few others in the ward who were capable of fulfilling this calling. He said that he had had the distinct impression that I was the one who should be doing it, and that it would help me somehow on my own spiritual journey to get closer to Christ. He said that he had talked it over with his counselors, and they were of the same mind.

It was at this point that I felt it was important to lay it all out there. I told him that we had never talked about doctrine or religion yet, and that this might be a good time to at least start that conversation. I hemmed and hawed and told him that I wasn't sue how I should put things. "Just be blunt and honest," he said. "And," he added, "just so you know, no matter what you say in here, it will not affect our friendship outside this office. So if that's what's holding you back, you don't need to worry about that." So off I went.

Word of Wisdom: I don't believe in it.

Literality of the Bible: I don't believe in it.

Eternity: I don't believe in it.

Immutability of the church's teachings and doctrine: Not true.

Christians' propensity for picking and choosing what they follow: I'm not diggin' it.

A living, human God: I don't believe in it.

(I talked about all these in great detail and with much more pathos, but there's no reason to bore you all with that here.)

"I attend sacrament meeting really just for my own benefit. And as far as what you said at the beginning of our conversation," I said, since we had never really taken that any further than his mentioning it, "although I am not currently sexually active, I do plan on having a companion and will be seeking that intimacy and partnership. I will not turn it down when I find it."

He said he understood my questions and could see how I had some issues. He assured me that he also had a great many questions and issues of his own (some of which he described to me, but in the interest of his privacy and confidence, I will not mention them here), some that had never been answered, and some that may never be answered. His faith carries him through. His belief that everything happens for a reason carries him through. "I have to believe that," he said several times. "I have to believe that God knows what He's doing."

That thinking, to me, is a slippery slope. Where does it end? If one truly believes that, then there is a reason that there is so much starvation in the world while so many of us are disgusting gluttons. There is a reason that kids are being bullied to the point of suicide. There is a reason that I CONSTANTLY manage to get behind the person who can't seem to drive the speed limit. There is a reason that the store was out of my favorite cereal. There is a reason why it's supposed to be 37 degrees tomorrow. I'm being hyperbolic... but am I really? If one "has" to believe that there was a reason that the church banned people of African descent from the priesthood only to come out this year and blame all that unpleasantness on that particular era's biases, where does that thinking end? End of tangent...

Despite everything I told him, despite it all, he said, "I still want you to take this calling."

"I drink coffee every morning," I said. "I love my morning coffee. I enjoy an occasional glass of wine with dinner. And I love a good micro-brewed beer."

He just nodded his head and smiled. "Okay," he said. He looked almost amused, somehow. I have to admit I was a little disappointed; I had expected much more of a reaction since this was the first of his hearing that I do these things.

"You said at the beginning," I went on, "that a person with a calling has to behave outside church in a way that invites the Spirit in," I said. "Do I need to tell you when I drink alcohol? Do I need to come and tell you when I meet someone with whom I might potentially develop a relationship."

"There are some people whom I feel I need to check in with often, some people I feel I need to stay on top of, asking them how they're doing. I don't feel like I need to do that with you. When I say you should be living in a way that is conducive to the Spirit, that's for you to decide. Do you have to be without issues and doubts and questions to serve in this calling? No. But I feel like this is the right thing for you right now." He sat forward in his chair. "Please accept." I hesitated and put my head in my hands. "As a friend, please accept."

"I don't feel good about this," I finally said. "I don't know why, but I just don't feel good about it. I feel like I'd be a hypocrite."

He asked me to do two things this week: first, he wants me to go through the children's sing book. Flip through it, read through it, play through some songs. Second, he wants me to pray and ask God if this is what I should be doing. I agreed to do those things, knowing that I don't really believe in prayer, but knowing that I could certainly ponder it and do my version of praying.

Just before we finished, he told me a story about when he was teaching at the MTC. He asked for some time off to pursue something else, and then wanted to be a supervisor when he returned. His boss gave his okay to this. But upon returning, his boss rescinded and said that he wanted him to continue teaching. He was miffed, to say the least, but later realized that he would have missed out on so many great things if he had gotten the supervisory position. I said that his story reminded me of the story I read this morning about when a group from Affirmation attended the Tabernacle Choir podcast performance. They thought the host had deliberately not announced their group's presence. There were tears and anger and talk of getting up en masse and walking out. They stuck it out, however, and at the end, the host apologized for forgetting an important group and then announced Affirmation's presence and asked them to stand. If they had left, they would have gone on being hurt and angry and would never have known that they ended up being announced after all.

"That," he said with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye, "is exactly why I want to you to accept this calling."

How can one argue with that logic?

On the way home it struck me: It's not even so much that I think I would be a hypocrite; it's that the ward would think I'm a hypocrite. I wondered, if they knew about me, knew that I don't at all follow the Word of Wisdom, knew that I don't believe the basic tenets of the LDS church, knew that I don't believe in the literality of the Bible, knew not only that I'm gay but that I absolutely plan on pursuing a relationship when I find the right person, would they want me in this calling? If they knew all these things, would they raise their right arm in assent next Sunday when the bishop asks the ward to sustain me?


I honestly do not know what to do. On the one hand, it's just playing the piano for primary. It's kids' songs. Pretty innocuous as far as church songs and religion go. But on the other hand, I do not want to appear a hypocrite. I don't take the sacrament not because I personally think I'm living in an unworthy way, but because I know I am not living what the church teaches is worthy, and I don't want to make a mockery of other's beliefs. Isn't playing the piano for primary (and the choir, for that matter), innocuous as it may be, basically the same thing? And why would he start our conversation by pointing out that people who hold callings are expected to maintain certain behaviors, only to persist with the calling even after finding out the way I live my life outside church??