Seven years ago, my husband and I were whisked up in a familiar Brigham Young University whirlwind: We met in January, were engaged by April and in August we wed.
We hadn’t even known each other for an autumn season but our marriage remains the most wonderful decision I have made. Countless adventures and two children later, I can’t help but reflect on how lucky I feel to be living such a beautiful life with my absolute best friend and partner of my dreams.
Indeed, the freedom to get to know, commit to and live authentically with the love of your life is a transcendent piece of the human experience. Life is full of ups and downs and to ride that roller coaster with the right person, well, “We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”
That quote is by Thornton Wilder, the renowned 20th century playwright who we now know was homosexual.
I hope you can see where I am going with this letter.
Like many of my peers growing up in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I believed there was a middle ground between loving support of LGBTQ+ individuals and sustaining the teachings of church leaders in building up the Kingdom of God. Though often bristling at certain words spoken over the pulpit, I held a firm belief that such rhetoric was simply a byproduct of geriatric leadership not asking God the right questions (similar to justifications for the former priesthood ban of Black individuals).
However, motherhood and feeling unconditional parental love has pushed me past the breaking point and led me to unequivocally say, though perhaps now I am shouting: They are wrong. They. Are. Wrong. The leadership of the LDS Church is wrong.
I have an inkling that you harbor similar feelings and simply worry it is inappropriate to admit so. Perhaps there is backlash you will experience in your personal life, I get that. Perhaps you might lose social standing or, even worse, your current source of income. That is terrible, and rough, and I am sorry that in 2022 being an LGBTQ+ ally can still lead to such a circumstance.
But friends, it is common knowledge that queer youth are more likely to suffer from bullying, engage in risky sexual behaviors and and be victims of suicide than their non-queer counterparts. This is a societal shame that you, dear reader, carry. You carry this shame until you make it unambiguously clear that LGBTQ+ individuals deserve the same rights and deserve the same freedoms and ought to be just as celebrated as any other individual in any other setting — on this earth and in whatever comes after this life.
Members of the church who share these values must raise their voices and face the consequences. Members of the church who chafe at these values must humble themselves and open their hearts to the stories of the queer community.
We all must do more to support LGBTQ+ individuals in vulnerable spaces, throwing them lifelines to bring them safely to shore. Once there, we must turn around and shield them, singing our accolades of their intrinsic value until we drown out the venomous screeching of “conditional love” and prove, once and for all, that God is love, love is love, one plus one equals two: Love is God.
Sherry Kopischke
Sherry Kopischke is a Brigham Young University alumna, working mom of two crazy kids and the transfer/emergency fund officer for the OUT Foundation, and organization of and for LGBTQ+ students and alumni of Brigham Young University.
