(This post is aimed towards Latter-day Saints, specifically queer Latter-day Saints and allies. If you aren't one, you can stick around, but please don't let it sully your view of the church. Thank you)
I had a profound moment today, and I wanted to share it since it's Palm Sunday.
Today we had our Stake Easter Fireside. I sang for a lot of it, but during the times I didn't, I sat and did some pondering. I felt proud that our church has regular members volunteer their time and talents to blessing others, whether it be singing or even giving the prayer.
Then the thoughts of queer members entered my mind, and I began to feel sorrow. A lot of what I love from the church, such as the temple and a lot of callings, are barred from queer people who fully realize themselves, especially trans people. I began to have thoughts of despair as if I were queer, even though I'm straight and cisgender. I began to think of Charlie Bird not being able to go to the temple after he got married to his husband, of my nonbinary friend who was miraculously able to get baptized as an enby (my bishop is seriously amazing) but still can't get certain callings, of a kid in my home ward who's in YW but identifies as nonbinary (I think. I think they go by he/they? I can't remember), of so many queer people who would benefit greatly from Christ's gospel and the church but run the risk of not even being able to step into the waters of baptism just because they are living in a way that aligns with who they are.
And that's ironic, isn't it? The church whose main thing is fully realizing your eternal identity as a child of God and in general who you are cannot accept the fact that sometimes people do not fit in the way we thought gender, attraction, and even biological sex worked. If anyone needs the blessings and protections given through covenants, it's queer people, not because they need to change, but because they are often beaten and bruised by the world.
Luckily I didn't cry from thinking about it (I had a lot of singing to do, dang it. Like, 5 songs. Mostly choir songs, don't worry). But I still prayed about it and felt that sorrow, as if I had a tiny, itty bitty, microscopic fraction of what Jesus felt in Gethsemane. And I never got anything but that heavenly sorrow. But honestly? I'm fine with it.
That kind of revelation is not mine to have. It's for queer members and leaders to have. I've had these thoughts and sorrows before, but they would usually lead to extreme despair and meltdowns. I even came home early from my mission because of it (not my choice, but that's another story).
If you're a queer Latter-day Saint or family or friends of one, I admire your resolve and bravery. I admire your testimony and reliance on the Savior, even if, to reference Dr. Ben Schialty, you're hanging onto the Iron Rod in a ravine on your tippy toes if you can touch the ground at all. You all have taught me more, same God Themselves, about what it means to be a member of the church than my cishet peers. You are the truest examples of Christians that I know. I love you guys <3
