On the Cliffs of Insanity

Okay, today I want to talk a little bit about some recent experiences I've had with rock climbing. So about a week ago I went with my brother and sister and a couple of their friends up Provo canyon. Let me just preface this by saying that I'm a terrible rock climber, but my brother and sister both do this all the time. They have their own equipment and everything.

So we get up their and I get started up the rock and right away the adrenaline is flooding my system, and not in a good way. I'm terrified. Worse, this is the first time for the girl who's belaying me, and I do NOT trust her. So I grip the rock as hard as I can with sweaty fingers and tennis shows with no grip. I'm slipping quite a bit, I can't go up or down, and extremely frustrated, stuck and tired on a vertical cliff face, and I start yelling at my brother for not letting me borrow his climbing shoes. Needless to say, it was a rather humiliating experience for all involved.

So I get down, and I don't want to try again, but they persuade me to do so. I go barefoot this time, even though everyone is telling me how painful barefoot is. And you know what? It's so much easier than with shoes. Despite what people said, my feet are already hardened because I rarely wear shoes around the house. Their are challenging (for me) ledges, and once I had to rely on the rope to keep me up. But this time it was my youngest sister belaying me, and although she has to way half of what I do, I trust her. I make it to the top, and feel awesome.

To end that trip, I belay for my sister. I'm also horrible at this, so I get people trying to tell me how to do it right, and this makes me convinced that I'm going to drop my sister, so I try doing everything with my own strength alone. Completely exhausting, but I'm terrified I'm going to kill her.

Fastforward to yesterday, when we took another trip up the canyon. I wasn't sure I wanted to come, but I did it anyways. We had to repel down... the first few seconds of repelling, where you have to put your faith into that skinny little rope, is nerve wracking. But I do it.

I rock climb barefoot again, and when it's my turn to belay, I take a couple extra minutes to get some coaching and learn how to do it right. this makes a world of difference, and I'm soon belaying two different friends with confidence.

A buddy of mine wanted to bring his dog in. The dog was not happy about this and fought and was nervous the whole time. We had to lower her (the dog) on a rope, and bring her back out on a rope. He had to hold her and we basically had to hoist them out. We all told him it was a bad idea, but he wouldn't listen.

So we repelled out of the spot--this time it was a little easier, though still the first leap made me nervous-- and then we hiked out. Much better experience than the first time.

What do we get out of this? I love the scripture that says you can liken everything to the gospel. For me, exercises like this always bring different principles of life to mind.

First, what you do affects the lives of everyone around you. Sometimes you freak out and things get messy. that's just being human, that's okay. But getting a little extra help in the beginning can keep that from happening.

Trust is essential.

Trying to do everything by yourself can get you into allot of trouble.

Sometimes doing what everyone tells you is painful is still better than the easier way.

Sometimes people do stupid things even when everyone tells them not to. Allow others to make mistakes and try to help them so that those mistakes are not harmful.

Allow others to rely on you, and rely on other people. We are all in this together. True story.

Sometimes, that first leap of faith is terrifying. But if you don't do it, you'll regret it.

Actually, whatever I write, I feel like you guys will be able to find what you need. I don't like spelling things out. Just look at your experiences and think what they teach you about life. Also, hope everything goes well for you.

Faith and Miracles

In Response to "God is Hiding", by Jon Adams

Something that's always troubled me a bit, growing up, is the lack of modern-day miracles. I consider myself an adamant, if somewhat unorthodox Mormon. In fact, I base a large part of my unorthodoxy on personal inspiration and a faith in modern revelation.

One conclusion I might come to is that people in general are less faith-filled than previous generations. We have records from previous eras of mass-conversions as well as miracles, well-documented and concrete. Why don't we have those anymore, either? It may be that modern, rational thought patterns, 'ask first and question more' philosophies are not very compatible with 'belief first and miracles later' system that faith seems to work on.

I remember growing up, our ward prayed and fasted for my little brother, who was in the hospital for 3rd degree burns covering most of his body. We prayed that he would live; we prayed that he would be able to walk. Today he runs around forming Ultimate Frisbee teams; most of his scarring barely noticeable unless he's wearing shorts or goes barefoot. Is this a miracle? Or just the miracle of modern science? What about the coincidence of parent’s prayers occurring right when something bad happens, but their kids come out okay? Parents pray over their children all the time, right? Or people being healed of Cancer, or being guided where to live through feelings... maybe we get miracles that can be explained by other phenomena because they are the kind we can believe in. After all, ask an 18th Century Rationalist if men could ever fly, and he would laugh at your absurdity.

We should never discount anything simply because we do not have a rational explanation for it. There are so many unanswered questions in science and religion, more mysteries than anyone could possibly comprehend... why should we discount something simply because we do not understand it? I feel that is a type of hiding in itself, hiding in our little box of rationality. We shouldn't trim outliers to make our data sets nice and tidy; we should try to figure out what those outliers are trying to tell us about the big picture.

I got off-topic. Sorry. Anyways, why are there not more miracles, similar to the Bible? Well, if we are to use the Bible as an example, we need to evaluate the time spans implicit within the stories. Remember, the Bible purports to cover at least 5,000 years worth of history (scholars differ on exact chronology). If we look at the percentage of time with miracles verses the time without miracles, we see very long gaps without obvious divine intervention followed by short, intense sessions of Godly might. I don't know why, but it does seem to be a pattern that continues on today. In LDS doctrine we teach about the Apostasy cycle, about periods of belief and stagnation. Now, most members would say we are in the Last Dispensation and are therefore immune to apostasy on a church-wide scale. I'm not so sure about that, but to continue on...

Saying "yes, we still have miracles" when they are usually small in scale, or "it's our own fault, because miracles are based on belief and we don't believe as strongly as people used to"... I don't think either of those answers the real question.

Your last sentence caught my eye: "Shouldn't that be the test--not whether we believe in god, but whether we follow him?"

I think that's the rub of it. You know, most people don't experience miracles. Allot of people have faith-building experiences for their various religions, but the full-blown miracle stuff seems reserved for special occasions. Why?

What is the test? Is it even a test at all? Is it that we believe in God? Manifestly not, as you pointed out. If so, humankind would be more damned than all the sons of perdition. What about following God? That's a little more complicated.

In Mormon theology, as you know, we believe in a pre-earth life, where we all lived in God's presence. There was a huge battle, and Satan and those who followed him were cast out of heaven. The rest of us, those who followed God, got the opportunity to come to earth.

Wait a minute, why are we being sent to earth to show that we follow God, if we already fought a huge war about that Very issue? For that matter, why is it that we don't remember any of this? Why do we have a Veil placed over our memories and other senses? Why, if we were these cosmically powerful beings before coming to earth, are reduced to such a pitiful state, subject to disease and starvation and all manner of terrible things? For that matter, why would we have fought for the right to experience all of it?

The point is, I don't think the test is whether we believe in God, or even whether or not we will follow Him. I think we've demonstrated both of those facets already. Faith is powerful, it's an important part of the Gospel, but it's only one of several virtues. It's not even the most important. Thomas, who walked with Jesus, heard from his own mouth the gospel, watched countless miracles... even Thomas didn't believe until he saw for himself. And he was one of the Apostles chosen by Christ. One who reportedly stayed faithful up to his own martyrdom.

The point is not so much belief, or even faith, but creating an environment where both belief and faith are necessary. An environment where doubt thrives, where doubt is the norm. I think the real test is 'doing the right thing, regardless of consequences.' That means not being sure of what the consequences will be, in the end.  That means an atheist has just as much chance at getting into Heaven, based on his actions, as a believer.

That means that sometimes people will do everything right and still have bad things happen to them. That means bad people will prosper. That means that yes, God could show us his existence through fairly constant, major miracles (we don't need a ton... maybe a couple a decade would be nice, right?) and that might even help people to have allot more faith in him, both that he exists and that he is a benevolent being... but that would, in effect, take away our agency, because Of Course we're going to do what an Almighty God says when we've got tons of faith in him and we are sure of being rewarded for our efforts.

One thing that helps me to have faith is to contrast those fairly different viewpoints. Regular Christians, when asked, "Why does God let bad things happen?" they have to say, "I don't know, but I have faith that through Christ everything will be made better." Mormons, if they understand the doctrine, can give a slightly better answer. "I don't know, but I think it will make me a better person, I feel like I've learned allot and will continue to learn allot, and I have faith that through Christ everything will be made better." It makes a difference if you feel you chose to put your hands in the flames, verses being forced to put your hands in the flames. Maybe that's just slightly more sophisticated theology, or maybe having greater understanding, a greater basis for faith, helps you to feel better about things. Either way, though, the core of the answer is the same. "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it will turn out alright."

On a more personal level, let me tell you how coming out and accepting my gay self has helped me to gain faith. When I first decided to come out, the only examples for positive, long-term gay relationships were found in sitcoms, and even then they often had terrible endings. I had to have faith that, if I were to come out, it would even be possible to form a long-term commitment with someone of the same gender. I had to believe that same-gender relationships were more than lust, as I had been taught. As I have met gay people, I have met more and more same-gender couples that help me to affirm this belief, and I continue to have faith that one day I will find a special someone of my own.

On another, far more difficult level, I had to have faith that my family would still love me after coming out. In this I've failed pretty badly, and yet they still do love me. I still have to have faith, because I still Do believe in the LDS Church, in Jesus, in Apostles and in Revelation. I believe that eventually something will change, and gay people will be able to receive all of the blessings of the gospel, similar to their straight friends and families. Being gay has helped me to jump off the cliff of certainty. And I don't know, but I'm pretty sure things will turn out alright. 

http://usureason.com/2010/god-is-hiding/, Jon Adams 2010

The Cure for Rejection

Something that has been bothering me lately, is the NEED of men like me to feel loved, wanted... to feel beautiful. I've been trying to figure out why we are so obsessed with "hotness". It's seams shallow, and yet it's almost sad, this eager desire to be desired.

I think it's because, more than most people, we understand and fear rejection. First, our society has been rejecting us for several centuries at least. The religions of our families and friends often place us in the lowest regions of hell. Coming out, we often fear (and rightly so) that our friends will abandon us. We lose in a very real sense the possibility of a "normal" nuclear family with a mommy and a daddy. Complicate that with strain on family ties, sometimes to the breaking point. And those are just the obvious things.

What about the years of denying a core part of yourself? Of feeling at a very young age that their is something wrong with you, and nothing you can do can fix it? Of reviling and denigrating and even loathing yourself? Is it any wonder we are prone to depression, under such self-imposed hatred? Self-rejection can be just as harmful as societal rejection, I think.

Or how about the inescapable fact that most of the people you want to flirt with will never be able to find you attractive? But you can't. Think how wearing that is, to regularly get over people who weren't even capable of falling in love with you. If you're a straight person who fell in love with a gay person, you know what I'm talking about.

So, we know rejection, and that's why we're so adamant about acceptance. We feel awful and shallow for wanting beauty in ourselves and others, because we've never felt admired or handsome.

I've had so many friends express this to me. I've felt it myself. I wish I knew what to say to make that awful feeling of shallowness, of unworthiness and ugliness go away for you.

I feel bad when I say I'm not attracted to you, because I see you accepting it. You "know" you're ugly. Well, guess what, I know I'm ugly, too. On a 10 point scale, I give myself a solid 6, maybe a 7 on my good days. that might sound pretty good, until you realize most young adults are around a 7 anyways. That's not the point. I can still have confidence in my appearance, attractiveness, etc. I don't need to rely on other people to make me beautiful, because I know I am beautiful. Not because I measure up to some ideal of beauty, or because I'm constantly being hit on. You straight guys being hit on by gay guys, take it as a compliment. I wish I got hit on, even if it was by girls. It's flattering.

All growing up, their was one particular teaching of the Gospel that I hated. I didn't like it, and still have trouble with it sometimes. It's this idea that in order to love others, you have to love yourself. See, growing up, I didn't love myself, I hated myself. I still loved others, immensely. In fact, part of the reason I stayed in the closet for so long, long after coming to believe their was no way for me to change or be happy... a big part of the reason was because I didn't want to hurt my family. In fact, that's probably one of the things I most regret about this experience. They're not being fair to me, because, really, I have done nothing to them, but still it hurts that I might in some way cause them pain.

Anyways, loving yourself to love others. This is true, but not in the ways you think it is. It's not that people who hate themselves are incapable of love. But when you hate yourself, when you are so focused inward on what you do wrong, you have very little time to look outward, to help others with what they need. Without feeling whole yourself, how can you reach out to help others?

I'm not saying that people who are hurting should try to fix themselves first, so that they can love others. In fact, I'm trying to say the opposite. In fact, let me put it in big, bold letters.

LET YOURSELF LOVE OTHERS.

Not shallow, I will love you because of what you give me, love. No, I'm suggesting that you go ahead and love everyone around you as fully and completely as you can. If that means you fall in love with straight people, go ahead. That doesn't mean you should shower them with gifts of romantic affection. It means you do everything you can to make them happy. Obviously they won't be happy with you, so find what else makes them happy. Don't get creepy on them, lol, but allow yourself to express those feelings, more than just longing furtive glances. Love your opposite-gender friends as no other straight people can, because they let romance color their feelings.

When you allow yourself to love others, when you realize that the kind of love that takes you outside yourself is good, and right, no matter who it's directed at...

When you allow yourself to love others, you will love yourself, and that will allow you to love others even More, and then you can love and forgive yourself even More, and then realize that God loves you, no matter what anyone else says, and then love others More.

It becomes a positive feedback cycle. A much better cycle than the other kind where you hate yourself because you love the wrong people so you don't let yourself love them which makes you hurt so you hate yourself more... see what I mean?

So, let yourself love others, please. God loves you, even if you don't love yourself, even if you don't think you are worthy of love.

I love you, too. Be safe.

Leaning on the Lord

So, we were in Institute today, discussing Isaiah, Jesus, and the Atonement. I love institute, by the way, it's such a fun experience. Even the not-so-fun experiences are good.

Anyway, we started talking about personal purity and personal righteousness, specifically enduring to the end. We discussed the nature of enduring to the end... that it doesn't mean merely gritting your teeth and pushing through. It means accepting all that the Lord places before you.

Too often we get into the rut of feeling we must do everything. We have to be the best student, worker, father, mother, son, daughter, sibling, spouse, friend, we have to be the best in our callings, clean the house, write your journal, food storage, family prayer and scripture study... an endless list of dos and don'ts. And all of those things are important, it's important for us to strive our best, it's important for us to try to keep every commandment; to be perfectly obedient. It's also never going to happen.

We are human. We stumble, we fail, we fall. That doesn't make perfection any less of a worthy goal, but it does put it out of our reach. We will always fall short. Because of our fallen state, we are incapable of doing our best.

How can I know I've done everything I can? I asked myself this often on my mission. For some reason it seemed to me I could never do enough, say enough, preach enough, keep enough rules, meet enough goals to attain that one, great, truly worthy goal of bringing souls unto Christ. The problem was that I was trying to do the work.

To me, Enduring to the End isn't about suffering through pain, or doing all you can. Pain hurts, and doing all I can... I will never feel as if I have achieved that. The great part is, I don't have to.

To me, Enduring to the End is about orientation- an orientation towards Christ. It is about realizing that God knew we would make mistakes and provided a way out for us. It is about realizing that our salvation is not dependent on what we can do, but what Jesus did for us.

Enduring to the End isn't about getting up when you've fallen, or walking instead of running forward. It's about moving in the right direction... it's about being pointed in the right direction.

What the Atonement means to me is that, even when I can't forgive myself, God has forgiven me. The saving grace of Jesus means to me that when I am week, he is strong. It means that I CAN forgive myself, and others. I can forgive others for the hurtful, terrible things they say to me. I can forgive them for hurting my loved ones, even, although that is more difficult. I can forgive myself for causing harm, and I can forgive others for the same. Because of the Atonement of Jesus the Christ, I can reach out to others.

Because it's not really me doing it. Anything I've ever said helpful to another human being has come from a higher source. "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me," not because I am strong, but because He is. He is the Creator of heaven and earth. Next to that, what are we? What can we ever do to compare to that?

Jesus broke the bands of death. What bands have I ever broken by myself? That is how I Endure to the End, not by relying on myself, but by focusing on Him. I make mistakes, but He never did, and He can fix the mistakes I have made.

Jesus Loved You Enough to Die for You

Their is a lot of bile floating around, hurt feelings, accusations... if you listen, you can easily drown in it. Their are things about the church that are troubling, and that is as it should be. Doubts, human error, cruelty, these things also exist among us. They have even affected our history and they continue to affect our attitudes today. We are also human, and we have made a human culture around the gospel of Christ. These things are to be expected... avoided, but expected.

These problems help us to grow. However, they are not your problems, I think.

I told you why I liked you, because to me you seemed to need a reason to like yourself. I can tell you I like you because you are kind, desirable physically and mentally, but I don't think that this will help you. You will say it's not true, that I'm seeing what I want to see, or worse, that my liking you comes out of a base sensuality unbefitting a follower of Christ, and you will wonder again if their is anything worthy inside of you to be loved.

I can tell you, I have felt the same for such a long time. I have grown weary of it. It plagued me on my mission, in my dating endeavors, haunting me like a crocodile just under still water; a gargantuan creature I always tip-toed around, careful not to wake. I was certain that if I woke that awful beast, it would consume all my friends and family, but I also knew that even if I grew black-plumed wings, I would never be able to out-fly it's grasp on me. It held my soul, because the crocodile was me.

I want so much for you to know that God loves you for who you are. I want you to see you--the real you. The you that Christ knows, that I am confident you are, that you feel you will never measure up to. When you do good, I don't want you to feel it is to erase some terrible flaw. Even if you have a fatal flaw, mending that weakness is the office of Jesus. Yours is to accept what He has done with all of your might, mind and strength.

I don't want you or anyone to leave the Church. In fact, it is my sincere desire that all people, old and young, free and bound, from every nation, kindred... gay or straight, nonsexual, reprobate, the pure and the unpure... everyone, everywhere could receive the Gospel.

I see myself as a sort of missionary for those who are in danger of leaving the Church over this issue. Not because I am better than anyone, although I am certainly in danger of thinking so every once in a while. I can feel my own frailty, I know that man, all men, are as nothing. I wonder if I could really help anyone, and yet watching others struggle with those same issues I have faced, that I continue to face, I cannot help wanting to 'fix' things.

A friend of mine reminded me this morning that I can't. People have to fix their own problems, ask for their own advice. But I can write, and I can listen, and I can try to be a good example. What else can I do?

What could I do or say to help you? If I ask you to accept your own feelings--to let go--will you feel I am tempting you to give in to your basest desires? Will you see that I want you to be happy and have a fulfilling relationship with whomever you ultimately decide to spend your eternities with?

Then how else can I get you to realize that you are a worthwhile human being, a spiritual child of a Heavenly Father who loves you just as He made you? If you cannot accept yourself, how can I help you to see that Jesus loved you enough to die for you? To feel all your pain and suffering; to know you in a way that no other person can?

I really want to know. I have too many friends who hate themselves. Gay friends, straight friends, it doesn't matter. And I just wish I knew what else I could say. I love you. You are worth loving. Stop focusing on what others think about you, and go love them! Love them like Jesus loves them.

Judgment

Today in sacrament I arrived a couple minutes before the meeting started to find that we needed a ward chorister. My bishop anxiously gestured me to the front, I had a whispered conversation with the pianist, and then we started. Leading the music for that first song, I felt completely lost. All I could do was grin at the congregation, trying to correct myself constantly so I could stay on time with the organ. One member was kind enough to show me how to lead from the back. By watching him, I was able to calm my frantic movements and figure out what I was supposed to be doing.

I have another friend who has told me that he feels like life is unfair, because you think you are taking one test, and half-way through it you are given a new blank sheet of paper and told to get started on a completely different test. And you don't even know what the second test is about. In such situations, it's nice to have someone from the back who shows you quietly what to do. It's important to smile even when you feel like you are failing miserably. And, halfway through the test, you might find your rhythm, and discover you knew the answers all along.

Today in church we talked about two issues that always seem to be paired in peoples minds: Homosexuality, and sustaining your leaders. This is a very important issue for me and others in my situation. It often leads to very uncomfortable, often emotionally turbulent moments where we sit, wondering if we should speak, feeling isolated.

How do I deal with it? It's difficult sometimes. If anyone reads this, I'd like to know what you think before saying anything more.

Pretentious

Today I got up and bore my testimony in church. That might not sound like a big deal to some of you, but I am so grateful that I am still allowed to bear my testimony. I know not everyone gets that opportunity. I'm so grateful for the gospel in my life. I know the Book of Mormon is true. I know that Jesus Christ is the Redeemer of the world, the Only Begotten of our Heavenly Father, and my personal Savior.

I realize that some might think it pretentious or foolish to believe these things or to say that I know they are true. Personal beliefs are often touchy subjects, have led to wars, and still lead to vicious rhetoric and perfidious insult. I realize that people much smarter and wiser than I believe I am wrong, on both sides. I understand if you call my faith "willing blindness", if you believe that their is no hope of a different understanding, if you think you know enough. I know that their is very persuasive, even logical evidence against my beliefs.

But I felt the Holy Ghost today. I wish everyone could feel the Spirit the way I felt.