THE NEWLY SUSTAINED PRESIDENT of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Dallin H. Oaks, offered us an address this General Conference weekend that has received a great deal of praise, including by those LDS on the political left. They breathed a sigh of relief because they perceived him as encouraging care for the immigrants rather than the projection of bigoted assumptions upon them, peace over war, and the end of the harsh rhetoric that divides people. The last seems to feel very personal to them as the current US president consistently slams the left as “evil” and “lunatics,” something Mormon MAGA and Trump-leaning LDS too often repeat. This, of course, travels the other way as well.
Yet, no one feels a sense of relief unless they have first felt stress. The placement of President Oaks in the position of prophet has created that stress. He’s a man known for his anti-LGBTQ attitudes, and those attitudes, as kindly spoken as they are, have resulted in political campaigns and legal wrangling that has harmed the LGBTQ community, both inside and outside the LDS church. Yet, in his first address, he seemingly avoided talk of religious freedom, which, for him is, at least in part, code for the pursuit of legal guarantees his church can continue to marginalize the LGBTQ community. But did he? A close reading of the speech affirms that the mantle of prophet will not broaden his ability to accept the full personhood of LGBTQ people. He can’t let it go.
Continue reading “The Negative LGBTQ Message Hidden within Pres. Oaks’ First GC Address”
Like most progressive Mormons engaging in the discussion about inclusion levels of the LGBTQIA community within the Church, I’ve argued in favor of love—that love is a behavior, that Christlike love practices empathy and inclusion. There is no concrete opposition to that, since love is an abstraction, so what I hear from “opposing” voices sounds a lot like, “We do love; we want to include” followed by a caveat. In truth, most orthodox, mainstream LDS are sincere in their desire to love and include, but they both justify and endorse policies of exclusion without hesitation. It’s a baffling dichotomy. But this weekend, at General Conference, the fog lifted for me. I’ve had it all wrong. This isn’t about a lack of love. It’s about power and submission. It’s about the corruption of ethics and ideals and how we’ve exchanged them for easily quantifiable “standards” that bind a subservient class to the will of its leadership. It’s about control.