At this tender time for my family, I am grateful to my brothers for their willingness to plan our father’s funeral events around my commitment to join with you today. It seems particularly appropriate to be with you to pay tribute to both of my parents, for their great legacy is their sure witness of the Savior and the gift of loving as He loves.
I have been asked to share some of the insights that I have gained from my experiences, especially in my relationship with the church. I would make two quick points as we begin: first, as you surely understand I speak for myself only; and second, my journey is a work in progress, and thus I share my experiences as a means of relating some lessons I have learned along the way, rather than as a prescription that anyone else should follow the same path. To my mind, one of the most wonderful aspects of our theology is the opportunity and requirement that each of us must know for ourselves the mind and will of the Lord for our lives.
I was raised in an active Mormon family, I was born in Utah and we moved to New Jersey when I was three and to the suburbs of Chicago when I was nine. I served in the Canada Montreal Mission under extraordinary leaders, President and Sister Wayne and Marlene Owens. Before and after my mission I attended BYU. Without having the words to describe my knowledge, I sensed from about age five that I was different from my brothers in a significant way, and by the time of my freshman year at BYU I knew that I was gay but I also knew that I loved the gospel and that my identity was tightly connected to the church.
After my mission, it became increasingly difficult to integrate my desire for same-gender connectedness with my hopes for my life, and with the promises of my patriarchal blessing. Thinking that if I did all the right things the feelings I had would go away, I was married in the Los Angeles temple and that marriage was annulled some months later. The tuition for the school of experience can be dear, as we know, but to my great and lasting regret a large portion of that cost was borne by the talented and loving woman to whom I was married. That marriage ended as it became obvious to me that I could not, with any integrity in my soul, continue to pretend to be a straight LDS man.
As I decided I would try to understand and experience my life as a gay man, I felt the honest way to begin was to seek excommunication. I could not resolve in my own mind, and I certainly didn’t see any examples around me at that time, how one could be a gay Mormon (thankfully, that situation is becoming very different now). At the time, though, this seemed a pretty clear choice and therefore I did not feel any bitterness about that course of action, nor about the high council court experience. And so for a couple of decades, my only connection to the church was when I would visit my parents and attend Sacrament Meeting with them.
While living in San Francisco -– a stereotype, I know -– almost twenty years ago, I met Clarke Latimer, and after many months of dating we decided to build our lives together. At the time Clarke attended a church that practiced a wonderful gospel of social engagement and had an amazing choir. And at various times in our life together, Clarke and I have attended services of other denominations, and generally while they have been incredibly affirming of LGBT congregants, and active practitioners of a gospel of Christian good works in their communities; ironically and sadly, it has seemed to me that they were much less affirming of the actuality of Jesus Christ, of the reality of His atoning sacrifice, and of the singular veracity of the gospel He brought. Despite a successful career and a very happy life, over time I began to feel more strongly the lack of a clear spiritual dimension in my life.
Let me backtrack a bit in the story to talk about my dear parents and my relationship with them. I know that it was a struggle for them to reconcile their rock-solid faith in the gospel with their unconditional love for their gay son. Quite soon after I came out, they took an opportunity to express to my brothers and their wives their determination that nothing would be allowed to break the circle of love that binds all of us together as a family. As they expressed it, while none of us is perfect as individuals, we can be perfect in our unconditional love for each other. They loved and embraced Clarke upon getting to know him.
We had an experience during a time when they came to visit us in Oakland where Mom’s health took a downturn and, as Clarke was a hospital administrator at Alta Bates Medical Center, he was able to arrange for a doctor to see her immediately even though it was a holiday. That day, Clarke determined that he wanted to make a mid-career change and go to medical school in order to become a primary care physician: a process that required of him a decade of incredibly hard work and commitment. Over the years, and with those skills, Clarke has been a devoted and tender caretaker of my mother and father.
My parents were married for nearly sixty-eight years before my dear mother passed away two and a half years ago. Our father turned 94 at the beginning of this month, and my brothers and I count as a particular blessing from our Heavenly Father that we were given so ma