Exclude Not Thyself: How to Thrive as a Covenant-Keeping, Gay Latter-day Saint

By Duane S. Crowther

Skyler Sorensen is a man who is attracted to men. He is married to a wonderful woman who knew all about his sexual preferences before she married him. Together they are each committed to and have faith in their covenants, the Savior, and His Church.

Exclude Not Thyself will remove any doubt you might have as to whether a gay Latter-day Saint can remain a faithful member of the Lord's Church. It walks you through the valuable lessons learned by the author on how to use life's trials to your advantage and remove the self-inflicted barriers to receiving "all that the Father hath."

Author Skyler Sorensen is living proof that mixed-orientation marriages can work, and happiness can be achieved by those who live the pure gospel found in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This is his story . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cedar Fort Publishing & Media
• Release date: Jul 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781462144495

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Dedication

To my beautiful wife

© 2023 Skyler Sorensen

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.

This is not an official publication of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The opinions and views expressed herein belong solely to the author and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of Cedar Fort, Inc. Permission for the use of sources, graphics, and photos is also solely the responsibility of the author.

ISBN 13: 978-1-4621-4448-8

Published by CFI, an imprint of Cedar Fort, Inc.

2373 W. 700 S., Suite 100, Springville, UT 84663

Distributed by Cedar Fort, Inc., www.cedarfort.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023932812

Cover design by Courtney Proby

Cover design © 2023 Cedar Fort, Inc.

Printed in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Printed on acid-free paper

CONTENTS

FOREWORD BY TY MANSFIELD

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1

EMBRACE BEING AN OUTCAST

CHAPTER 2

BECOME COMFORTABLE WITH DISAGREEMENT

CHAPTER 3

EMBRACE YOUR MASCULINITY

CHAPTER 4

BEWARE OF RADICAL POLITICS

CHAPTER 5

BETTER YOURSELF

CHAPTER 6

AVOID VICTIMHOOD AND EMOTIONAL LIVING

CHAPTER 7

FIND JOY IN TRIALS

CHAPTER 8

BE CLEAR ABOUT YOUR GOALS AND STOP AT NOTHING TO ACHIEVE THEM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Foreword

It’s now been more than twenty years since I went through my own existential crisis trying to reconcile my sexuality with my faith in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. There weren’t as many resources then as there are today, and I felt like I had to figure so much out on my own. The vast majority of those speaking up and sharing their stories were people who had either left the Church or who were critical of Church doctrines related to sexuality, marriage, and family.

I know in a very real and personal way how it feels to live in a world between worlds. I wanted to believe I could marry and have a family, or at the very least, carve out a thriving life and still live according the covenants I had made and that I believed were right for me. Yet there were so few accounts I could find of those who had navigated similar journeys, who landed on the side of faith in the Church and its teachings and who were openly sharing their stories.

A lot has changed since then, both for me personally and in the larger conversation we’re having in our culture and in our faith community. Personally, with the help of some transformative spiritual experiences and good therapy, I was able to work through the existential crisis I experienced and recommit myself to my faith (and to what I then thought would be an ever-single life in the church). Many years later, I met my now-wife with whom I have a beautiful and life-giving marriage and five little humans who have taught me more about God’s love than I ever could have imagined. In our faith community, there are a lot more resources today, and there’s a much more open, compassionate, and ministering conversation around these issues.

One thing that hasn’t changed—or at least not as much as we might hope—is the difficulty individuals feel as they sort through personal questions and conflicts regarding their attractions, faith, identity, and future. While there have been more and more people sharing their stories, both those who believe in the Church’s teachings and those who have left the Church, the polarization in our Latter-day Saint community as we collectively address these issues seems only to have increased. It seems that more and more individuals and families are leaving the Church, claiming its position on LGBTQ issues as one of their primary reasons.

It seems as much as ever that those who are critical of the Church, or who believe in the Church but believe the Church is wrong in its teachings regarding marriage and sexual expression, and are advocating for doctrinal change, dominate the discussion. It is more important than ever for individuals of faith to share their stories and bear witness in a way that has potential to build bridges of understanding and present positive alternatives to dominant cultural narratives. More than ever before, we need those striving to live in harmony with the gospel of Jesus Christ to step out of the shadows and let their voices be heard.

As the restored gospel of Jesus Christ continues to go forth to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people, the Church’s teachings regarding marriage, sexuality, and gender will increasingly affect how people respond to our message. I suggest that in addition to the continued witness and teachings of the Lord’s prophets and apostles around issues of sexuality and identity, there will be an increasing need for a cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1) of Latter-day Saint men and women who have personally dealt with these issues. Elder Bruce R. McConkie taught that beyond the witness of prophets and apostles, ancient and modern, we need to be able to offer a seal of living reality to those stories by telling a similar and equivalent thing that has happened in our dispensation and to our people and—most ideally—to us as individuals.¹

There is something inspiring that Elder McConkie taught about having stories of real people who faced real problems and who solved them in a way that was pleasing to the Lord.² I would add that equally valuable are the stories of those whose problems aren’t fully solved, who may have yet to find the much-sought-for resolution, but who continue to exercise faith in the Lord, being led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which [they] should do (1 Nephi 4:6), trusting they will be led to their promised land according to His own will and pleasure (see Mosiah 7:33).

This is where stories like Skyler and Amanda’s become especially important and powerful. And just as important as the general witness of Christ and the gospel—or the why of our faith and discipleship—is being able to speak to the practical aspects of our individual journeys, or the how of our journeys. As I work with individuals and couples in therapy, one of the most common questions is how. There are so many who want to live the gospel but don’t know if or how it’s possible to do so. They wonder if they can ever live a life full of meaning and connection, particularly when the dominant narrative is that to stay in the Church is tantamount to living a life of loneliness and isolation, void of meaning and all that makes life worth living.

Skyler’s assurance that a full, happy life is possible may be one of the most valuable contributions he offers on these pages. While there’s no one size fits all prescription for navigating questions of sexuality and faith, given (as Elder Neal A. Maxwell phrased it) that we all have a customized curriculum,³ the more people who share their stories, and the more we’re able to see the how in different peoples’ lives, the more information individuals will have to explore as they navigate their own personal journeys. Skyler notes, as many others have who have shared their accounts, that he desires to speak to a younger version of himself who may need to hear the insight and wisdom born of his experience.

The poet Robert Bly noted, Where a man’s wound is, that is where his genius will be. Wherever the wound appears . . . that is precisely the place for which we will give our major gift to the community.⁴

Our pain, when consecrated to God and the kingdom, will be consecrated back to us for both our gain and for the gain of others who may benefit from hearing our accounts. While everyone is different, and different stories will speak to different people, Skyler and Amanda’s experience and voice are much needed and provide a welcome contribution to a larger conversation.

It is my desire that many will read this book and gain a deeper understanding of the individual trials of those around them and find hope in the many encouraging possibilities for individuals and families navigating sensitive and complex journeys.

—Ty Mansfield

---

1.The How and Why of Faith-Promoting Stories, New Era, July 1978, 5.

2.Ibid.

3.But for a Small Moment, fireside address, Brigham Young University, September 1, 1974. See speeches.byu.edu/talks/neal-a-maxwell/small-moment/.

4.See quotefancy.com.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book wouldn’t have been possible without the people in my life who have helped me prioritize the correct things. My parents, who raised me to seek Christ; my children, who have opened my heart to new depths of love; and my wife, who has supported my sometimes overly ambitious projects, such as this book.

Introduction

Back in the summer of 2019, I had an opportunity so strange, you’ll likely not believe it. My wife and I were in the San Francisco area with some friends during the first part of June. If you’re familiar with LGBT+ issues at all, you know that June marks Pride Month. For the entire month, parades carry on throughout the world, filmmakers debut their LGBT+-themed films, and large corporations change their logos to the pride progress flag—a rather loaded symbol meant to stand as a banner for sexual minorities. What’s more, San Francisco is known as one of the most heavily populated LGBT+ cities in the world.

Although you might expect a gay man to fit in with this scene, I couldn’t have felt more out of place. Even though my sexuality matches that of other sexual minorities, my conservative political leanings, religious affiliation, and mixed-orientation marriage to a woman does a good job of ensuring I stick out like a sore thumb.

A day before the biggest pride parade of the year, I received a message from the head of a Christian group in the area. Somehow, they had convinced the heads of the pride parade to let them enter a float promoting Christian ideals and traditional family values. What’s even more strange is they wanted me to join them on the float. Against my better judgment, I decided to take them up on this odd, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

The float was simple. It had a papier-mâché statue of the Bible, some generic decorations, and a sign that said, God loves you, He knows best, and He ordains marriage as between a man and a woman. We were the twenty-fifth float from the beginning, so the parade had some momentum before we started. It’s safe to say that nothing could prepare me for what was about to transpire.

Early in our trek across the streets of San Francisco, the confusion of parade-goers quickly shifted to a chorus of boos. In a cruel twist of fate, the float in front of us was advertising a farmer’s market by handing out free tomatoes. This perfect storm made me feel like I was in some convoluted TV series written by famed screenplay writer Aaron Sorkin.

Right on cue, and as if by cruel design, people began throwing tomatoes at our float. Most of them missed me, but every now and then, a big, juicy, organic one would hit me square in the face. One hit me so hard my glasses flew off. While we were perfectly content to finish what we started, the showrunners concluded there was too much of a security risk, so our float was ushered out of the parade and onto a side street where we could clean up. At least, we were hoping to have time to clean up. Instead, a rush of reporters bombarded us with cameras and questions.

As we fought to dodge the reporters, more onlookers arrived with more tomatoes to throw. Some were live streaming, some vlogging, and others just yelling. Right when I thought things couldn’t get any stranger, a TV producer handed me his card and offered a frantic, elevator pitch for a TV show about what had just transpired. What really blew my mind was when Oprah Winfrey showed up with her television crew.

If you haven’t caught on by now, you were right not to believe this story, because this didn’t happen.

It is, however, the best analogy I could come up with to describe what it’s like operating in modern society as a vocal, conservative, gay, orthodox Latter-day Saint in a mixed-orientation marriage.

Motives and Testimony

I didn’t become more open about my marriage and sexuality as a way to garner attention, but it didn’t take long to find me. I’ve always been an introverted observer. As a child, I had more fun listening in on my parents’ conversations with their friends than I did playing with my own friends.

I have a love-hate relationship with the spotlight. I have an abiding need to speak up against what I perceive as injustices or mistruth, but I have a deep disdain for handling pushback from others. If I’m in a decent mood, I can keep myself disconnected enough from online trolls to get a sort of amusement out of their attempts to get a reaction. If I’m not in a good mood, I succumb to a sort of keyboard warriorship and hurtle overly sarcastic replies at strangers. The worst is when the comments are actually thoughtful and require me to look inward and analyze my intentions. (Who wants to undergo the burden of self-improvement? I shudder at the very thought.)

I didn’t ride on a pro-traditional family float in a San Francisco pride parade with onlookers throwing tomatoes at me, but I do garner an equally visceral online mob when standing up for traditional morality. I haven’t been kicked out of a San Francisco pride parade, but I have had videos removed from TikTok for hate speech, because I had the audacity to quote studies pointing out that LGBT+ Latter-day Saints typically fare better than the non-religious. I haven’t been swarmed by reporters in an alleyway after being kicked out of said parade, but I have been approached online by reporters, podcasters, and even TV producers wanting to share our story.

I had a wonderful childhood. My parents raised me with good morals, an appreciation for the value of service, and a love for God and my Savior. As the fourth child of eight and first boy, I experienced middle child syndrome as well as the pressures of being the oldest brother. While there were three sisters ahead of me, I felt an undeserved mantle of leadership and desire to pave the way for my younger siblings.

My dad worked in management positions at various companies, and my mom picked up odd jobs where she could. While it was always clear to me we struggled financially, we never wanted for the necessities, and my parents made sure we had access to as many opportunities as possible.

As a young man, the difficulty of reconciling my sexual feelings with my religious beliefs consumed much of my waking life. My primary motivation for writing this book was a sense of obligation I feel to that fearful, insecure, younger Skyler and anyone in a similar situation. I’m constantly imagining the scenario of my younger self finding negative influences online at the caliber they exist today and giving in to their ideas. Because I’ve been so blessed to find and maintain such a successful marriage, I feel an obligation to be vocal about my experience, hopefully providing an anchor of support to those in a similar situation and have the desire to remain committed to the gospel—all while traversing a path that remains one of the most emotionally fraught battlegrounds of our day.

There are too many pervasive influences online, at church, and in our social circles that are preaching a watered down version of the gospel that is meant to ease temporary burdens at the expense of eternal progression. There are too many gay Latter-day Saints who fall victim to these ideas and find themselves abandoning principles and morals they never thought they’d abandon. It’s extremely tempting to listen to voices telling you you’re perfect and preach a version of God who requires little to nothing. As D. Todd Christofferson put it, A God who makes no demands is the functional equivalent of a God who does not exist.⁵

In many ways, this book is a letter to an alternate version of myself growing up in today’s political climate. It’s a manual to all Latter-day Saints on how to support their LGBT+ family and friends without enabling a faith crisis. It’s also a message to my future children and family of how I believe they can be successful. Further, it’s my testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, its ability to enhance our lives, and the immense incentives to develop a lasting relationship with our Savior. Whether you’re gay, straight, or something in between, my hope is that this book will serve as a guide to embrace your own divine roles and reject toxic—often convoluted—ideas about your nature. With that said, my experience and insight may ring truer for young men and especially gay Latter-day Saints.

I’ve had to embrace a decent number of hard truths—about which I’ll speak in this book—in order to feel secure and confident in my role as a husband and father. As I’ve done so, I’ve been successful in creating a joyous and lasting eternal marriage. It’s not an all-for-show marriage that I have to white-knuckle my way through. It’s an intuitive, natural love and companionship that has stood the test of time and trials. From facing public controversy, to losing our son, to dealing with infertility, we’ve only become stronger and closer, and our love has only deepened.

I’m a fairly logical person who needs a good reason to do something. My testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ—as found in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—started as it does with all Latter-day Saint children. I was a product of my religious-centered environment and soaked up what I was taught. I also felt a desire for the things I was being taught to be true and maintained a sense of duty to make my parents and Church leaders proud.

Since those reasons to believe can only take you so far, my motives for maintaining faith have changed since that time. Now, my assurance of the truth behind the claims of the gospel is based primarily on a variety of personal experiences I can only describe as metaphysical dealings with the Divine. These experiences are hard to explain, especially to those who haven’t had or recognized them in their lives,