Resignation Rejection: Full Text and Commentary

For those who are interested/requested, here is a transcript of the "resignation request rejection letter" that I received.

Dear Brother Horne:

I have been asked to acknowledge your recent letter in which you request that your name be removed from the membership records of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I have also been asked to inform you that the Church considers such a request to be an ecclesiastical matter that must be handled by local priesthood leaders before being processed by Church employees. Therefore, your letter and a copy of this reply are being sent to President Stephen J. Klenk of North Hollywood California Stake. He will have Bishop Mark S. Mikolyski of the Studio City Ward contact you concerning the fulfillment of your request.

In view of the eternal consequences of such an action, the Brethren urge you to reconsider your request and to prayerfully consider the enclosed statement of the First Presidency.

Sincerely,

Gregory W. Dodge

Manager, Member and Statistical Records

 So yeah, then there was a pamphlet inside that was even MORE aggravating.

An Invitation to Come Back

We reach out to members of the Church throughout the world in a spirit of love and brotherhood inspired by the Lord Jesus Christ.

Our interest and concern are always with the individual man or woman, boy or girl. Our great responsibility is to see that each is "remembered and nourished by the good word of God" (Moroni 6:4). If any have been offended, we are sorry. Our only desire is to cultivate a spirit of mercy and kindness, of understanding and healing. We seek to follow the example of our Lord, who "went about doing good" (Acts 10:38).

To you who for any reason find yourselves outside the embrace of the Church, we say come back. We invite you to return and partake of the happiness you once knew. You will find many with outstretched arms to welcome you, assist you, and give you comfort.

The Church needs your strength, love, loyalty, and devotion. The course is fixed and certain by which a person may return to the fill blessing of Church membership, and we stand ready to receive all who wish to do so.

Sincerely yours,

Thomas S. Monson

Henry B. Eyring

Dieter F. Uchtdorf

The First Presidency

There are so many things about this letter that are aggravating.

Mostly, though, it's the magnanimous glee with which they "apologize" for any offense (but not apologize that they hold the opinion that causes the offense, it's more like "sorry you got offended, we were just trying to be Christlike, maybe you should pray about it until God tells you how right we were all along."

Also, I love this gem--"We invite you to return and partake of the happiness you once knew"

WTF? Um, I AM happy. I'm happier now and more at peace now then I have been in any adult memory. When I was attending church, my soul was in a constant state of turmoil, of self doubt, pain, and aggravation. My emotional turbulence prompted my college friends to dub the seventh day of the week "Sour Sunday" because I would be miserable and depressed whenever I came back from church. The inability for me to be one and at peace because of the doctrines of the LDS Church are what made me almost leap off a subway platform my Junior year in college. So, yeah, I'll pass on returning to THAT kind of "happiness".

I am sure that what ever happens, I'm going to be out of the Church by the end of the year, but I was hoping that I wouldn't have to be guilt tripped about it. The thing is, even though I'm mostly able to just let it roll of my back, my Mormon Programming is so deeply ingrained that I almost considered "prayerfully consider[ed] the enclosed statement of the First Presidency."

But I don't need to pray about it, because I know by the fruits that I am doing what is right for me.

I am really looking forward to the day when the church no longer has power over me—let's not forget, that is what this whole exercise is about—it's about the church trying to claim my agency to leave. To prove they are in charge, that they have the power. But they are wrong. I am empowered as an individual who understands his rights and is sure of the path he is on.

Let me know what you all think. Peace.

They Won't Let You Go

I know understand why the LDS Church is seen as a cult by so many people. It's because cults don't allow their members to leave of their own free will. They have to fight, crawl and push their way through the bullies of the Holy Order of the LDS Church Administrative Bureaucracy™.

Basically, they refused my request, and are instead sending it to my ecclesiastical leader (Bishop Mikolyski). If he calls me, I'm going to be pretty angry.

I called the LDS Church Member Records Division (1-800-453-3860 ext 22053) immediately and this is pretty much exactly what I said, since it was a pretty concise way that I found online to express my feelings:

“As you know, I stopped being a member of your church on the day you received my letter. It is clear that someone in your office thinks I don't know what my rights are.
I do NOT have to contact anyone else regarding my resignation. As a non-member I am no longer subject to your rules and regulations or policies. I DO have a right to get a letter of confirmation from you that states that my name has been removed from the membership rosters of the church.
Please stop wasting time and effort and handle my resignation appropriately. If you don't handle this appropriately, I may involve a lawyer or the press.”

So, we'll see what happens.

I should have known better than to think they'd let me leave quietly. Now I'm gonna get nasty.

June 25th, 2007

Dear Journal,

It’s been a long week. On Monday I volunteered at the Church cannery and probably moved 6,000 cans of apricots in my four hour shift. Later, during the week, I got really depressed about having no friends and my struggle with homosexuality. So I called and talked to Bishop O. I tried not to cry when I was on the phone with him. But it did make me feel better. I need to persue making friends with Gunnar. I think he and I should make good friends. I’m just to creeped out to go to “Zumiez” in the mall and talk to him. Call it fear, stupidity, or maybe I’m nervous that he’ll see through me, see that I’m not a very good Mormon, or even that I’m gay. Fear. Discomfort. Anguish. These are the things that make me who I am. Am I really just an “underdeveloped” man who never developed his manhood and so he longs for the manhood of another? Or am I doomed by God because of some sin? Who knows.

Moving on, this week Dad had his Herb Walk this week, and it was very successful. Everyone seemed to really enjoy themselves and I seemed to be really liked by all the women who visited. In particular, Tanya from California. She seemed to really like me and she was a sweet old lady—I carried her backpack for her into Zion because it was hard for her to walk. She was such a trooper, I’m hoping to keep in touch with her.

Did a little budgeting today and I’m still wondering how I’m going to afford school. I imagine God will take care of me, especially as I have a testimony of the power of tithing and have been paying in full. This morning I ran for as long as I could at 8am. I couldn’t get far, but I’m going to try to get up each morning and run until I have to stop, and hopefully reverse my obesity. Wish me luck and persistence.

Gutted

A fire burned down my old ward building back in Cambridge, MA today.
This building was my ward for 3.5 years as I attended Emerson College. Bishop O. of the University Ward saved my life by telling exactly what I needed to hear when I came to him ready to take my own life because of the crushing weight of my self hatred and shame. And now, this is all thats left. A memory, hazy with smoke.

Gutted.

Just like my faith.

And I Am Afraid!

So I'm sure you're all well aware of the National Organization for Marriage's ridiculous video regarding their new "Rainbow Coalition" to prevent marriage equality.

It makes me sad to think that millions of dollars are being spent to keep gay families from forming--and yet, they form regardless.  Just as you can't stop a rainstorm, you can't stop marriage equality.  It's coming--and everyone will someday be sheltered by the same legal umbrella. (Okay, sorry for taking the analogy so far!)

Anyway, the style of this video reminded my of my friend Seth, the first gay christian I ever met.  He was the one who helped me realize that I didn't have to be a Godless heathen to embrace my whole self.  Back before any of this nonsense with Prop 8 was even a blip on the radar, Seth made the video below:

New Apologetics

It's an incredible work, and I find it funny that the style is very similar. Though, I have to say, it's sad to think that one college student with some friends can make a more professional looking spot than a 1.5 million dollar ad campaign.

BTW, Seth is the guy with the deep voice and long hair at the end, apologizing.

Visiting the Yosemite Ward

This morning I set my alarm to head down to Oakhurst, CA, where I attended my first LDS Church meeting since September.

I want to tell you that it felt good.
I want to describe to you the confirmation of truth I received from the spirit.
I want to express my feeling of foolishness for leaving my beloved church behind.

I WANT to tell you those things. But they would be lies.

Wending my down CA-41 from Fish Camp to Oakhurst, I listened to Trail of Dreams, a Mormon Pioneer musical that I have referenced before.

"Past the farthest farmhouse, to the open plains
every step we've taken, one less step remains!
On, like ancient Israel, leaving Egypt in their day,
and praying God will lead us and will open up the way!

Rolling on!
to sage and pinion!
Rolling on!
to the plateaus!
Rolling on,
to make the mountain valleys blossom as a rose!"

One of my favorite things about Mormonism has always been the Pioneer Heritage. I belted the songs out loud, which moved my soul to a great extent--I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I drove.

My heart palpitated considerably as I arrived at the Chapel, finding not a single parking space. I ended up parking on the curb, which placed my "No On 8" bumper sticker facing almost everyone who'd leave the lot. It was partially obscured by my bike, but it made me feel conspicuous anyway. I spied at least one "Yes On 8" sticker, and my heart tightened.

I remembered vividly the whole experience of why I left.

Walking inside, I thought it must have been ward conference--apparently, they had just combined two wards, perhaps in a money saving measure, but it meant that now the cultural hall was perpetually necessary to accomedate the memebership.

The hymns, which are usually my favorite part of a meeting, were especially bad. They picked hims I could care less about, and the congregation sang with about as much spirit as a man dying of starvation. Timid bland vocals sung at whisper volume. Why are we as Mormons so bad at Worship?

I didn't feel much at all during the whole meeting. I honestly tried to be optimistic and open minded, and sought out the truth in what people said during their testimonies. However, unlike my distorted memories, the spirit didn't speak to me at all. I felt like I was listening to old woman after old woman telling some anicdotal bullshit story and then lamely tying in the gospel. No one referenced scripture, no one quoted the prophets--the Bishop spent more time making allusions to Ben-Hur than describing the story of the woman and the well. (John 4:4-42).

I do miss the church, but I miss it in the same way one might miss a friend that use to be very close and important to you, but whose actions changed your opinion of them. They are still there, you could still hang around with them--but that isn't the person you miss--the person you miss is gone.

That's my latest thoughts on the church.

Contrast that experience with going to Yosemite afterwards, and feeling nothing but JOY and PEACE and happiness for being in God's beautiful creation, this beautiful earth. It's like night and day.

Speaking of night, it's about 2am now, so I should head to bed!

We Are All Enlisted

This morning was glorious--bright, clean and sunny, a spring chill in the air.  Air moist and sweet with the moisture from the rain of the previous days.  I felt good, and I started singing Hymn #250, "We Are All Enlisted".

We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er;
Happy are we! Happy are we!
Soldiers in the army, there’s a bright crown in store;
We shall grin and bear it by and by.

If you didn't skim those familiar refrains, you'll realize that I'd unconsciously substituted "win and wear it" with "grin and bear it".

I started laughing out loud, and I looked heavenward and smiled.  How long had I been singing this wrong?  I had been an unwilling soldier, conflicted about my sexuality within the ranks of the LDS Church.  I had grinned and borne it my whole life--these "new" lyrics make perfect sense--and that bright crown of glory would be mine if I just fought the good fight for the rest of my life, smiling away like a chucklehead (thanks, Greg).

No more.  From now on, life is not going to be a burden to bear.  It's God's most glorious gift to his children.  We are that we might have JOY.  And with that, I will leave you with this photo, which should make your day bright.  It makes me smile--It's me, probably around 6-7 years old, in a dress.

Have a great day, everyone!

The Letter's In The Mail

So I just hit send on my message to my mom. I felt like sharing it.

--------

Hey Mom,

I realize that it's been a long time since I wrote you a message of any major substance, but to be perfectly honest, I haven't really felt like talking to you much ever since you failed my litmus test.

You see, way back when I posted to my blog about the church's direct involvement with politics here in California, you responded by calling me a rebellious teenager, dismissed my questions and my invitation to discussion and understanding. I call this a litmus test because I've been filled with dread at the prospect of telling you something important.

I'm gay.

That's right, I like guys. I've known since I can remember, but I ran from it, fought it, prayed for it to go away, to change, so that I could be a good little Mormon and marry in the temple and go on a mission, but God has not seen fit to heal me.

I think that's because I'm not sick.

I've spent the best years of my life hiding, and being ashamed, and I'm not going to hide anymore. I'm slowly coming to accept and be at peace with myself as I am, and I hope you too can be at peace knowing that I love you and want you to be a part of my life.

I want to make it clear to you that this isn't anyone's "fault". You did the best you could raising all of your children--and I'm very blessed to have been sent to this earth to be in your care. I think of all the amazing things I was able to accomplish because of your unconditional love and support--my TV show, my radio show, plays, activities, etc. All because you chose to be a full-time mom.

You probably understand, better than most, the pain I've gone through in my life--you too had a vision of how your life was "supposed" to play out--you'd be married to a man for time and all eternity and raise many beautiful children who'd serve missions and have families--etc. And yet, something outside of your control sent you down a different path. I too grew up firmly believing that I should go on a mission, marry a woman in the temple, and have many children--and I really wanted that. But something outside of my control has sent me down a different path.

I wanted to tell you this in person, but I don't know how long it might be before I see you in person again, and I am tired of waiting to tell you.

Your loving son,

Ezra

Crying Coward

I like crying.

It's weird, but I almost feel good while I'm crying.  It doesn't matter the reason--I could be crying tears of joy or pain or sadness--but I don't want to stop.

When I told my third Bishop (the one who actually cared and worked with me) that I was gay, I cried.  And after I left his office, I went into an empty classroom in the Cambridge Ward building, and cried my eyes out.  I sat in a corner, and I let it all out.  I didn't want to stop.  The emotional release was so powerful that I'll never forget it.

The heaving, the sobbing, the blowing the nose.  I love it.  I love watching movies that make me cry.  I cry at the end of October Sky, I cry during scenes in Into The Wild, I cry when I realize that the life I always dreamed about would never be mine.

Yesterday, (as noted in the previous post) I cried during therapy.  I don't remember exactly how we got onto this topic, but I told her that I didn't deserve to have the boyfriend I desired, that I didn't deserve good things.  She responded "Why do you think you don't deserve good things?"

And the tears started to well up.

Just writing that question, "Why don't you deserve good things?" is making my eyes wet again.

I couldn't give her an answer for a long time.  Eventually I concluded that the reason I don't deserve good things is because I'm too foul, too ugly, too sinful and lazy to be blessed.  I have it so easy, so many gifts and so many wonderful, loving people in my life, and yet I accomplish nothing.   So many others, with the weight of the whole world on their backs, great men and women have scarified and dragged themselves up from the bottom.  Yet I remain content with the middle.

I am a coward.

Time after time I kept coming back to the word coward.  I struggled to justify why I felt this way, but couldn't find the reasons--I just feel like a tiny little man, who's so broken and lonely that his true potential is lost.

Dammit.  I'm at work on my lunch break, and I've got tears rolling down my cheeks. F**k.

I received my Patriarchal blessing in the fall of 2007.  I had been working with my Bishop to become worthy to receive it for several months.   The day I got it was one of the most powerful spiritual experiences of my life.  And my blessing said this "There will be individuals in distant parts of the world who will speak your name with reverence even though they may have never met you because of what you have done to assist them to understand to gospel of Jesus Christ."

I've always felt that my purpose on this earth was so great, so important--that I would change the world.  It's my destiny.  I knew this since I was a kid.

But I don't see how someone so broken can fix anything.

I'm not even really a Mormon anymore--how can some ex-mormon faggot sinner teach anyone anything about the gospel of Jesus Christ?

I have to stop.

I have to get back to work.

I have to force myself to go on pretending that I know what I'm doing.