After losing a loved one to suicide, we want to know why. All the more so when we lose a youth with promise of a long life. When we lose sexual minorities from unaccepting religious communities, the culprit seems clear: negative teachings about us.
That simplistic formula, often repeated, bears some truth; yet a full accounting is invariably more complex.
Years ago, while serving as a civil rights attorney, I investigated a cluster of suicide deaths in a school district mired in anti-LGBTQ hostility. Like some religious institutions, the district had a grave problem: Spurred by religiously inspired activists, the school community kept a hostile climate for some students perceived as gay.
But for such rejecting environments, many departed youth may yet be with us. Still, a deeper investigation almost always shows multiple contributing factors, common to many young people, whether or not they decide to self-harm, like relationship strife, mental and physical health challenges, poverty, substance abuse, easy access to guns and insecurities with other turbulence of life in a crazy world.
Religious communities have a moral responsibility to help, not hurt, those on the margins. Even so, casting full blame on church leaders for suicide deaths is not entirely correct and is an ideology of disempowerment of those at risk. The simplistic formula feeds a false sense of inescapable victimhood: My community rejects me, so I will carry out a wish to die.
I know the pain of rejection from primary tribes. Yet the decision to react to others’ intolerance by ending one’s life is the worst choice among a universe of infinite possibilities — some of which manifest with time. The world is much larger than unaccepting tribes.
We speak of suicide victims; victimhood, though, is for transcending. Fortitude grows within when we refuse surrender. We can gain perspective independent of those blind to our spiritual equality. In the words of Kanye West, “N-now th-that that don’t kill me can only make me stronger.” Acting on a temporary impulse to die ignores the truth that challenges of being part of a misjudged minority can help polish us over the long run and catalyze a rich spiritual path beyond earthly structures.
Suicide is not caused by religious leaders who echo false teachings about us so much as from misperception. Misperception, especially when clouded by intense emotion, must be a primary driver because there are many better choices for those yet bearing the promise of life such as Walt Whitman’s advice to examine what you’ve been taught and abandon all that offends your soul; forgive others their faults, including leaders (a prerequisite of moving on); and strive toward goals, like gaining self-sufficiency.
Power of choice may feel out of reach at times; that, like most problems, is temporary and not rightly answered with irreversible tragedy. We develop personal power by wielding it. We learn to direct our thoughts, emotions and actions irrespective of others’ words and behavior. We learn to see that what feels overwhelming now may be of little importance in five years. We learn to honor the gift of life and offer generous doses of patience, also toward ourselves.
We naturally excuse ourselves and those we love by projecting fault on others; blowing up to some extent under difficult circumstances is easy. A better way is to accept responsibility for what is, or can become, ours to direct: our words, thoughts, actions, and reactions. When we stop blaming others for our worst impulses, we can take, and model, greater responsibility, and thus power, to see, create and make the best choices.
Sam Wolfe
Sam Wolfe is completing a book project about his quest to harmonize spirituality and sexuality as a queer latter-day saint.
