"All of God's Children Got Shoes"
A few weeks ago, on a flight to Phoenix for a friend's wedding, an older woman next to me started up a conversation. She looked to be in her mid-fifties, was conservatively dressed, and had a twinkle in her eye. She warmly asked where I was headed, where I was living, and where I went to school. When I told her BYU she said, "That's in Utah right? Are you Mormon?"
"Sort of," I answered. "I grew up Mormon but ever since I came out as gay I haven't participated much." She nodded curtly and I couldn't tell if she was more uncomfortable with me being gay or being Mormon. I was familiar with this situation - growing up Mormon in Iowa had afforded me plenty of opportunities to claim my religion and defend it against the common myths and misconceptions surrounding my uncommon faith. Interestingly, as the conversation continued, I found myself defending both Mormonism and homosexuality, something I never thought was simultaneously possible.
This woman was an active member of her Christian congregation (pastored by her husband) and had taught at a private Christian school for over 20 years. She knew the Bible inside and out, didn't eat out on Sundays, and prayed morning and evening. As she professed her faith and told me how she lived it, I felt like I was listening to my 21-year-old self, fresh off my proselytizing mission in Ecuador. She was convinced that the life she was living would bring her salvation but every time I pointed out the similarities between her faith and Mormonism, she could not accept that Mormons would be saved.
“Every time I pointed out the similarities between her faith and Mormonism, she could not accept that Mormons would be saved.”
I have found that this is often the reaction I get when I try to describe the life I want to live as a gay man. I want to get married, raise children, have a career, own a home, provide meaningful service, and be kind and charitable. Unfortunately, because I'm gay and want to marry a man instead of a woman, many can't believe that I too could live a happy life or go to heaven after I die. They try to convince me to conform my behavior to one specific brand of morality in order to earn a particular version of eternal salvation.
Airplane woman was sure, as so many of us are or have been, that there is one way to find true happiness or be saved. The problem was that it caused her to discount the good things believed in and lived by Mormons, Buddhists, Muslims, or Jews. She knew that regardless of their faith, they wouldn't be saved. If this is what religion causes people to believe; if there isn't space to consider, validate, and respect the unique circumstances of every individual within a religious community; if my goodness and character are going to be ignored or covered by religious doctrine or policies, then I don't want to participate.
“If there isn’t space to consider, validate, and respect the unique circumstances of every individual within a religious community, then I don’t want to participate.”
At a recent social gathering I introduced my boyfriend to a black coworker. Like airplane woman, when she found out that he had lived in Utah, she asked if he was Mormon. He nodded and then she asked, "How does that work with you being gay?"
"It doesn't really," he responded. "There isn't really a place for people in openly gay relationships to be in the Mormon church."
"Aw, I'm sorry! That makes sense, though," she said empathetically. "You know, I learned in school that Mormons didn't believe black people could go to heaven until 40 years ago."
At first I was confused by her comment. I knew that the Mormon church didn't allow black people to hold the priesthood or do saving ordinances in the temple until 1976 but I had never thought about how that impacted their salvation. According to Mormon doctrine, temple ordinances are required to go to the celestial kingdom (Mormon heaven). If people with darker skin weren't allowed to enter the temple, then they technically weren't allowed to go to heaven.
That experience reminded me of an old spiritual I heard sung at a church service I attended recently here in Greensboro. The woman leading the service shared songs that were sung by slaves during times of great oppression and one of them really resonated with me. Here are a few verses:
I Got Shoes
I got shoes, you got shoes
All of God’s children got shoes
When I get to Heaven goin’ to put on my shoes
Goin’ to walk all over God’s Heaven
I got a crown, you got a crown
All of God’s children got a crown
When I get to Heaven goin’ to put on my crown
Goin’ to shout all over God’s Heaven
I got a song, you got a song
All of God’s children got a song
When I get to Heaven goin’ to sing a new song
Goin’ to sing all over God’s Heaven
CHORUS:
Heav’n, Heav’n
Ev’rybody talkin’ ‘bout Heav’n ain’t goin’ there
Heav’n, Heav’n
Goin’ to shout all over God’s Heaven
I recognize that being black and being gay are hardly comparable but in the context of salvation, I see a few similarities. No one chooses their skin color or their sexual orientation. Neither skin color nor sexual orientation cause a person to be inherently unworthy of salvation. Skin color and sexual orientation don't define a person, but they absolutely form part of a person's identity and should not be covered or shamed. I hope one day all religions, especially the one I grew up in, will teach that all people have the opportunity to be "saved" exactly how God created them. After all, "All of God's children got shoes."