I was one of the people who resigned from the Church this weekend. I hope the moderators will approve my post and allow it to become part of this conversation, because I am writing as a friend to everyone here. I have no interest in picking a fight over the so-called "mass resignation" or the LDS policy which caused it. I'm not anti-LDS and I send nothing but goodwill to my LDS acquaintances here, whom I know only because I often read your interesting and though-provoking posts. I hope my perspective on this will be useful. (Full disclosure: I used to post quite frequently on lds.net, but I created a new username tonight so I could make this post. The old username was based on an email address that no longer exists, which I guess makes password recovery very hard.) I converted to the Church about twenty years ago with high hopes. I drifted away within a few years, sadly, but four years ago I listened to "The Spirit of God" on YouTube and felt something inside me burst into flames. One thing led to another, and soon I found myself thinking more and more about returning to the Church. I thought of myself as a re-investigator. It is no exaggeration to say that I spent many months in earnest prayer and contemplation. I decided to visit Salt Lake City to maybe connect with the Spirit more, and I ended up making three separate trips. On each one I prayed and tried to make myself as open as possible to the voice of Heavenly Father so that I could follow his will. I studied the Scriptures, followed the Word of Wisdom, and starting preparing for a return to sacrament meetings even though I knew it would be hard. Why was I so bothered by this recently announced policy about children of same-sex partners? Keep reading. I had a tough childhood. My father abandoned my mother and me when I was a baby. In elementary school I was constantly reminded that I was different. It was the 1960s, and all the other kids had two parents, but not me. I remember many nights sobbing myself to sleep because I was ostracized as weird by the other kids and their parents. One friend told me his parents had ordered him to stop playing with me because I was a bad influence on him. Even though his parents' action was unfair and based on stereotypes of broken homes, it stuck to me like a tattoo and still stings as I write this almost five decades later. I managed to get through my childhood okay, but the battle scars were deep and lasting, and they made me especially sensitive to children who are excluded from anything for no good reason. When I read last week of the Church's policy to deny baptisms to children living with same-sex parents, I was aghast. Certainly the debate over same-sex marriage is complex and contentious, and I really don't know how this will all turn out. But the Church's policy, in my opinion, passed up a golden opportunity. Instead of slamming the door in the faces of these innocent children, it could have said, "Come unto Christ, we will hold and bolt the door open for you no matter who you are, no matter where you came from, and no matter what your parents do. Walk with us and do not stumble, for we follow our Savior's words: 'But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it is better for him that a heavy millstone be hung around his neck, and that he be drowned in the depth of the sea.'" So I am deeply saddened by comments here like "What's the big deal, so what if they have to wait?" and "Some people are just looking for things to be offended over." Yes, it is a big deal to close the door to Christ to anyone, and I, for one, have never been on the hunt for things to be offended over. Far from it. If anything, my journey back towards the LDS Church was based on forgiveness, healing, and hope. My understanding is that this policy is the decision of humans and is not revealed doctrine. If so, there's room for improvement, and pronto. How differently things would have unfolded if the policy had left the baptism decision to the bishop, to be made on a case-by-case basis with the child's well-being held as the absolute top priority. And I've read many comments (on other online forums) by active LDS mothers who support the Church but who nevertheless are being ripped apart by this policy. My letter of resignation from the Church, which I mailed on Friday, was taken from an on-line template and was worded rather sternly, so I doubt that the Church will try to contact me to discuss my decision. Part of me hopes that this policy is changed and that the Church will reach out to invite me back. I'd probably return.
