Not with Musket Fire, but with a whisper
As the smoke from apostolic musket fire dissipates, I find myself thinking about the history of sexuality, religious violence, and the hope of peace. The recent call by Elder Jeffery R. Holland for academic and intellectual musket fire against a perceived enemy of the “doctrine” of the family and wished-for opposition to opposite-sex marriage is violent rhetoric that has no place coming from the mouth of one deified as a mouthpiece of God.
Christian history is a history of violence. The religion finds its genesis in violence enacted against its god by the state. And then, when Christianity became the dominant force of the state, violence was enacted against those who did not believe in Christianity’s God (e.g., crusades, the War on Terror) or did not believe as other Christians—or at least those Christians in power—believed (e.g., martyrdom of the heretics, Protestantism, and even the pilgrims). The fight between heresy and orthodoxy is nothing new to an institutionalized religion; after all, how ever could a church allow every child of God into its fold when everyone is an individual with a personal view of God? The institution, it seems, believes it must cleanse itself and purify itself toward the whims of a man, believed to be a prophet, and use its power to violently attack those it perceives as a threat to its Zionistic vision of unity without dissidents—unity without those children of God who do not share the precise faith as dictated by those in rule of the institution?
Elder Holland’s words on Monday delivered from a pulpit at BYU continued this history and ministry of violence against the marginalized. In singling out LGBTQ+ efforts for acceptance (“flag-waving” and “parade-holding”) and, specifically, by singling out the valedictorian who came out in his commencement speech, Elder Holland continued the crusade against the homosexual and the queer, the “same-sex challenged” to use Holland’s ontological view of gayness, and held an apostolic musket to the face of the spat upon and the crucified, even the marginalized. “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matt. 25:40). As his apostolic forebear Peter, Elder Holland rejected the Savior in favor of the whims of the world of bigotry and fear. Instead of defending and loving those who are harmed on a daily basis—sometimes even this week murdered just for camping together—Elder Holland used his apostolic authority as a bludgeoning tool against the queer community and defended and comforted the comfortable, those who live and flourish behind a veil of homophobia and bigotry that sparks fear within their hearts when they see a rainbow flag or hear “love is love.”
I hope, in denying your Savior, you weep bitterly, Elder Holland, as Peter did before you.
However, the truth is that musket fire always leaves smoke. And whispering wind will always blow away that smoke.
If Elder Holland is true in his statement that he and his brethren love LGBTQ+ individuals, then perhaps they can understand better what love unfeigned is. After all, God never says power and influence ought to be maintained by musket fire. Instead, God says, “No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; by kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy” (Doctrine and Covenants 121:41–43).
Love unfeigned is not grabbing muskets to metaphorically and rhetorically defend truths you believe to be divine. Love unfeigned is supping with sinners. Love unfeigned is finding a stranger and enemy on the side of the road, caring for their wounds, and paying for their recovery in an inn, and then returning to visit them again. Love unfeigned is not casting the first stone—or firing the first musket ball.
Love unfeigned is listening to the whispers of the spirit.
“And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.” (1 Kings 19:11-13)
God isn’t found in war and musket fire. God isn’t found in defending the faith unto bloodshed and death. God isn’t found when their children are murdered by others—metaphorically and physically.
God is found in the whisper. The whisper of “Love your God.” The whisper of “Love your neighbor.” The whisper of love.
“And it came to pass when they heard this voice, and beheld that it was not a voice of thunder, neither was it a voice of a great tumultuous noise, but behold, it was a still voice of perfect mildness, as if it had been a whisper, and it did pierce even to the very soul.” (Helaman 5:30)
If you feel inclined to show your love by supporting LGBTQ+ students at BYU, consider donating to the OUT Foundation’s #LoveNotMuskets campaign.
