Danny Frost

President Dallin H. Oaks again turned to the topic of peacemaking—a key part of his teachings, as well as those of President Russell M. Nelson. The repeated prophetic calls for peacemaking suggest that this is one of the key issues of our time. Christians should know better than to indulge in the contempt and hostility that are all around us. 

I appreciated how President Oaks indicated that peacemaking often means doing several things well at once: showing love and compassion for those who are different from us even as we stand up for the truth as we understand it. President Oaks also emphasized that personal virtue must be at the core of enduring peace. He noted that missionaries act as peacemakers when they “preach repentance from personal corruption, greed, and oppression, because only by individual reformation can an entire society eventually rise above such evils.” 

Peacemaking can include many other things such as bishops’ efforts to help marriages and resolve personal conflicts, service to others, reducing suffering, increasing understanding between groups, and raising children (including foster children). Peacemakers heal and uplift. President Oaks’ closing words are a powerful invitation to be better peacemakers: “Let us follow Him by forgoing contention and by using the language and methods of peacemakers. In our families and other personal relationships, let us avoid what is harsh and hateful. Let us seek to be holy, like our Savior.” 

Charity and Enduring to the End

Anna Bryner

Elder David A. Bednar delivered a great insight about how “enduring to the end is linked inextricably to the spiritual gift of charity.” He taught that “charity is the very essence of the end toward which we are enduring: becoming new creatures in Christ.” In other words, charity is not only a spiritual gift that will help us endure to the end, but the very substance of the kind of person we are to become: one who “suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”

I thought Elder Bednar’s talk paired well with President Dallin H. Oaks’ talk about relating to one another as children of God. This is the practical work of charity—to allow Christ’s love and righteous desires to fill our hearts and transform the way we interact with others. Peacemaking can start in each of our hearts as we seek the spiritual gift of charity from the Father.

Faith Through the Highs and Lows

Lauren Yarro

President Emily Belle Freeman shared a powerful perspective that both our good days and our hard days are part of God’s plan. In her talk, she uses Peter’s story to show that faith isn’t built in one defining moment, but over time through both the highs and the lows of life. Peter had moments of bold testimony and moments of fear and failure, and he still became who the Lord needed him to be. President Freeman reminds us that Christ is not distant in our hardest moments. He is right there with us, strengthening us and reminding us that our worst days are not the end of our story.

I needed the reminder that both the best days and the worst days are shaping us into who the Lord needs us to become. She taught that holding onto the eternal truths and the promised blessings of the gospel of Jesus Christ allows us to draw upon the power of God in our lives. Her closing reminder was that “joy is not the absence of sorrow in your life. It is the presence of Jesus Christ in your life.” 

Ministering in the Savior’s Way

Amanda Freebairn

This general conference was a reminder to me of the many storms the people around us are facing. Elder Ronald A. Rasband shared about the short life of his grandson who was born with chromosomal abnormalities. President Emily Belle Freeman explained that recently, during the excitement of planning her daughter’s wedding, her beloved husband found out his cancer had returned. Elder Thierry K. Motumbo told the story of losing four children. 

But along with these heartbreaking stories emerged a theme of love and ministering, and the impact ministering can have on the lives of those we minister to. 

Sister Kristen Yee shared that her father, who had been at one point emotionally abusive, began to heal through the Savior when a ministering couple invited him to attend the temple weekly. She also explained that “ministering by the Spirit invites the Spirit into our lives and the lives of those we minister to. I often find peace, clarity, healing and purpose when I minister. I find the Savior when I minister. This is by divine design.” 

Both President Dallin H. Oaks and Sister Yee testified that through the Savior, we can come to love in ways that we never thought possible. Elder Patrick Kearon said since his calling to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “I’ve learned that I can love even more…We don’t serve people we really love, rather, we come to love people as we serve them.” 

President D. Todd Christofferson taught that as we cultivate the pure love of Christ, lift and minister to others, and exercise devotion to the will of God, we can little by little enact change in the world.

“We tend to underestimate the influence of Christlike individuals in the world. But working one by one has always been Jesus’ approach to a changing society and establishing his kingdom. It is the aggregation of individual choices over time that forms and changes societies for good or ill. No one of us alone can change the world but each of us can have an influence in the world.”

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Attack dog. Enforcer. Culture warrior. These labels and more have been used to describe Elder Clark G. Gilbert, newly called apostle of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He has also been described as a “high-profile defender of doctrinal orthodoxy” and a proponent of “retrenchment.”

What’s all the fuss about? As Commissioner of Church Education, Elder Gilbert is accused of instituting a variety of measures to ensure that professors at BYU support the doctrine of the Church that pays their salaries—specifically on issues related to marriage, family, and gender. According to some, these measures have ushered in a culture of fear among faculty who have reservations about Church doctrine or policy. Other concerns have been mentioned, but this seems to be the heart of the issue.

Before I say a few words in defense of Elder Gilbert, I want to take a moment and recognize the difficult space that many Latter-day Saint scholars inhabit. The Church’s views on family, sexuality, and gender are (to put it gently) not popular in academia. Despite stated aspirations to diversity and inclusivity, there isn’t much room in academia for researchers who vocally promote the Church’s positions on family life. I have seen this first-hand in my nearly two decades in academic life. Those who support marriage as the union of a man and a woman and claim that sexual relations should only happen in such marriages are castigated as out of touch, prudish, ignorant, hateful, and bigoted. It’s hard to get along in your profession when your colleagues view you as little better than a racist.

There are intellectual resources to defend the Church’s positions on these matters (more on this below), but the opposition to such arguments is so loud, so confident, and so strident that often it’s easier to just keep quiet. Latter-day Saint scholars are generally trained in the same graduate programs, go to the same academic conferences, and are under the same pressure to publish in top journals as scholars who don’t belong to the Church. It’s hard to not imbibe the norms, expectations, assumptions, and conclusions of the culture, including revisionist views about gender, sexuality, and family. The implicit and explicit pressure to fall in line with the prevailing orthodoxy can be suffocating. Even Latter-day Saint scholars who want to resist the prevailing academic culture on these issues can feel bewildered about how to do so. 

In an environment where so much of your professional success is influenced or determined by people who are hostile to the Church’s views, I can see why many people would feel concerned about Elder Gilbert’s efforts to align the faculty with the doctrine of the Church.

At the same time, I, like many other faculty and students, choose to study at BYU precisely because of its doctrine. I want to be at a university where I can “seek learning, by study and also by faith” (D&C 88:118). As Elder Gilbert has emphasized many times, institutional drift in academia is real, and many universities that start with religious aspirations end up abandoning them later. It’s tempting to say that this is the standard arc for religious universities in the United States. Believing that BYU’s distinctive religious heritage can be maintained without intentional efforts to preserve it is naive.

But perhaps it is not possible to run a quality university that is committed to religious beliefs? Indeed, many of the criticisms of Elder Gilbert presuppose that it is inherently wrong to try to get professors to align with Church teachings. The critique takes two forms: first, that any attempt to align (or more darkly, “impose”) views about any topic at a university is wrong; and second, that it is wrong for BYU to expect faculty to support the Church’s doctrine on marriage, family, and gender.

The first view is widespread but breaks down upon inspection. As I have explained in detail, it is neither possible nor desirable for a university to be completely devoid of commitments. Without well-known and agreed-upon standards, university life would descend into a cacophony of competing claims, none of which could be evaluated as better than any of the others. The scholarly practice of peer review presupposes that practitioners in the discipline know what counts as “legitimate” scholarship and can reject submissions that do not meet disciplinary standards. (A more blatant example of institutional gatekeeping would be difficult to imagine.) As I wrote in the previously mentioned article,

The point of academic study is to produce knowledge. This search is a winnowing process, as academic ‘disciplines’ (note the word) seek to separate the wheat of truth from the chaff of unsupported opinion and bias. Good scholars are committed to getting it right, which presupposes that truth is real and knowledge is possible, which in turn is premised on a host of philosophical and other presuppositions. Academic freedom cannot mean the freedom to be supported in whatever one believes; rather, it is the freedom to seek truth, which means being accountable to reality.

It may come as a surprise to some readers, but some people actually want to go to a university that includes religious beliefs among its commitments (see Elder Gilbert’s recent article on this in The Chronicle of Higher Education). A recent essay by prominent Catholic sociologist Christian Smith explains that he chose to teach and research at Notre Dame because he wanted more direct engagement with the Catholic intellectual tradition. But after 20 years at Notre Dame, Smith decided to leave because (in his view) the university was not living up to its potential. He writes: “When I came to Notre Dame, I believed the university was serious about its Catholic mission. I tried to make my contribution, I think with some success. But I also saw much of the institution absorbed by other interests that, in my view, were often irrelevant to or at odds with the Catholic mission.” I don’t have enough information to know if he is right about Notre Dame, but many people want something other than the standard secular university experience. In general, the world is enriched, not diminished, by religious universities that pursue truth in a distinctive way.

To be clear, as Commissioner of Church Education, Elder Gilbert wasn’t some rogue actor trying to sneak something past Church headquarters. The family proclamation may be controversial in some quarters, but it is firmly established as Church doctrine. It would be hard to make this point more emphatically than President Dallin H. Oaks recently did: “Those who do not fully understand the Father’s loving plan for His children may consider this family proclamation no more than a changeable statement of policy. In contrast, we affirm that the family proclamation, founded on irrevocable doctrine, defines the mortal family relationship where the most important part of our eternal development can occur.”

Some critics might be concerned that Elder Gilbert’s efforts to align the faculty with the Church’s teachings diminish academic freedom. In my view, this gets it exactly wrong. There are hundreds of universities in the United States where revisionist scholarship about marriage, family, and gender is welcome and rewarded. The orthodoxy on these issues is clear and intolerant. There is a much smaller number of universities where one can pursue scholarship that is aligned with the family proclamation. If BYU became just like other universities, there would be less academic freedom than there currently is. (Attentive readers will realize that I’m using “academic freedom” in two senses here, individual and institutional, both of which are explained in detail in BYU’s Academic Freedom Policy.)

Though debates over marriage, sexuality, and gender are often framed as conflicts between “rigid defenders of orthodoxy” and proponents of love and authenticity, the reality is not so simple. At the heart of these conflicts are deep disagreements over personal identity, sexual morality, the meaning of human life, and the common good. There are many resources available to Latter-day Saints and others to think through these issues carefully. In my view, these are not issues on which one has to “blindly accept” Church teachings; the assumptions that lead to revisionist conclusions about marriage, gender, and sexuality are highly contestable.

Which brings us back to the idea of Elder Gilbert as a “culture warrior” or an “attack dog.” It’s strange that people on only one side of these controversies get called names like this—even when the university in question is clearly owned and operated by the Church. As my former teacher Robert P. George writes in a related context, “There is a culture war, alright, but supporters of the sanctity of human life and the conjugal conception of marriage are not the aggressors in it. It was people on the other side–those who reject sanctity of life principles and the idea of marriage as a conjugal union–who wanted to change longstanding legal and cultural norms.” In my view, Elder Gilbert took reasonable steps to ensure that BYU students get the education that is advertised in the BYU mission and aims, and I’m grateful for his efforts.

In a recent interview, Elder Gilbert recounts an important conversation he had with President Holland. Both the mandate from President Holland and his ultimate hope for BYU seem like a good way to conclude: 

I remember I was talking to President Holland, and he was bemoaning that he could feel this drift happening to the university. And he’s like, ‘What have they done with our school that we love so much?’ And I felt awkward. I wasn’t even the commissioner yet. And I felt like I needed to defend them. And I said, ‘Well, President Holland, you know, we have the honor code, we have devotionals, we have religion classes, we have the academic freedom policy.’ And I said, ‘They’re like bumper lanes protecting us from bowling into the gutter.’ And he didn’t even let me finish. And he said, ‘That’s very different than bowling for a strike.’ And he said, ‘We need to bowl for a strike at BYU.’

The post Bowling for a Strike at BYU and Beyond appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Never before have knowledge and information been so accessible, and yet harmful. Like a flash flood, information, opinions, and facts have breached boundaries once built to maintain order and safety. Just as water can be both life-saving and life-threatening, the flood of information now inundating us can either save or destroy our souls. 

In his first public address at Brigham Young University (BYU) as President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, President Dallin H. Oaks commented on this rising threat and on the “abundance of speculation and false information in podcasts and on social media.” He reemphasized the necessity of the Holy Ghost in discerning truth, adding soberly: “You live in a season where the adversary has become so effective at disguising truth that if you don’t have the Holy Ghost, you will be deceived.” 

Yet this deception is not new. It has been employed from the very beginning by Satan, “that being who beguiled our first parents, who transformeth himself nigh unto an angel of light.” In the Garden of Eden, Satan disguised his true identity and convinced Eve to partake of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, in violation of God’s commands. We know from modern prophets and scriptures that the Fall was ultimately part of God’s plan. It ushered in mortality, the ability to have children, and enabled Adam and Eve to progress and become like God. Oaks even taught that we should “celebrate Eve’s act and honor her wisdom and courage.” 

So what was the problem? The problem was the messenger: Satan offered what he did not have the authority to give, obscured its consequences, and enticed Eve to disobey God. Gratefully, God’s plan cannot be frustrated, even by Satan’s most cunning deception, and God provided a way forward in Christ. But Adam and Eve never forgot the sobering lesson they learned: by following an unauthorized messenger, they almost lost everything.

Learning from their mistakes, Adam and Eve were determined to listen only to true messengers from God once they arrived in the lone and dreary world. But how could they know who was a messenger from God and who wasn’t, especially knowing that Satan can disguise himself? Ironically, by giving Eve the fruit of knowledge of good and evil, Satan gave Eve power to detect him. Further, the temple teaches that God also provided Adam and Eve with certain means, which Satan cannot imitate, to identify true messengers so that Adam and Eve could know of a surety who was an authorized messenger from God and who was not. 

It also does not feel coincidental that Section 129 of the Doctrine and Covenants immediately follows this account with instructions on how to detect ministering angels, or authorized messengers, from false spirits, revealing the “grand keys whereby you may know whether any administration is from God.”

The Apostle John taught early Christians to “believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.” But how do we “try the spirits” to know whether they are of God? John tells us: “We”—meaning the apostles—“are of God: he that knoweth God heareth us; he that is not of God heareth not us. Hereby know we the spirit of truth, and the spirit of error.”

We are blessed to live in a day when ordained prophets and apostles serve as authorized servants of God. They are called of God, and although they are not perfect, we can trust them. Jesus Christ Himself admonished as much when He came to the Americas, called twelve servants, and then declared, “Blessed are ye if ye shall give heed unto the words of these twelve whom I have chosen from among you to minister unto you, and to be your servants; and unto them I have given power …” 

The scriptures, likewise, are filled with the words and teachings of past authorized messengers. They are a powerful, authorized source of truth. Elder Richard G. Scott taught that, “Because scriptures are generated from inspired communication through the Holy Ghost, they are pure truth. We need not be concerned about the validity of concepts contained in the scriptures.” President Ezra Taft Benson further testified, “The scriptures are the key to holding on to that iron rod. If we want to taste for ourselves the pure love of God, we must learn to cling to the power that is our scriptures. … The Book of Mormon is the instrument God designed to bring us to Christ.”

Before Christ’s death, He prepared His apostles for His separation from them by explaining that He would give them “the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name.” Thus, the Holy Ghost is an authorized messenger of God. Christ taught His apostles that they can trust the Holy Ghost because He will “guide [them] into all truth” for “he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear [from the Lord], that shall he speak.” This is an essential qualifier of authorized messengers. They do not speak for themselves–only what God gives them. 

In Oaks’ recent remarks at BYU, he reemphasized the need for the Holy Ghost, quoting the prophetic warning of his predecessor President Russel M. Nelson, that “In coming days, it will not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting, and constant influence of the Holy Ghost.” 

From the Garden of Eden to the Dispensation of the Fulness of Times, Satan seeks to deceive and frustrate God’s plan. And while Satan’s tactics are becoming more sophisticated, the solution to deception is the same as the one God first gave to Adam and Eve: learn how to recognize and follow authorized messengers. 

The temple narrative clearly shows that one of the primary struggles of living in a fallen world, separated from God, is discerning whom to follow. If we consider ourselves like Adam and Eve, we must be as vigilant as they were in distinguishing between authorized messengers from God and unauthorized ones. 

I find it significant that multiple times a year, during General Conference and in local Stake and Ward Conferences, God declares who His authorized messengers are. Their names are read publicly. Nothing is done in secret. And we are given the opportunity to either sustain or oppose them. God makes it very clear who we should follow and accept as reliable sources of truth. (D&C 43:2-7; D&C 28:12-13.)

So, while deception abounds in our AI age and the deluge of information drowns many, the Lord has continued his pattern of sending authorized messengers to teach His children truth. Satan continues his efforts to deceive, but prophets and the Holy Ghost are authorized messengers, and we, like Adam and Eve, must be vigilant in hearing their voices above others. Jesus Christ again said it best in Doctrine and Covenants 1: 

Wherefore, I the Lord, knowing the calamity which should come upon the inhabitants of the earth, called upon my servant Joseph Smith, Jun., and spake unto him from heaven, and gave him commandments … And also gave commandments to others, that they should proclaim these things unto the world … that man should not counsel his fellow man, neither trust in the arm of flesh … But that every man might speak in the name of God the Lord, even the Savior of the world … What I the Lord have spoken, I have spoken, and I excuse not myself … whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same. For behold, and lo, the Lord is God, and the Spirit beareth record, and the record is true, and the truth abideth forever and ever. Amen.

The post The Importance of Discerning Authorized Messengers appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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When President Russell M. Nelson passed away, I felt both grief and gratitude. He was a prophet whose warmth and vision expanded my understanding of the Savior. When President Dallin H. Oaks stood at the pulpit during General Conference and spoke tenderly of his “dear friend” President Nelson—his voice catching with emotion as he recalled learning of Christ through him—I saw a man feeling the full weight of both loss and legacy. It was the first conference he attended without the companion apostle who had served alongside him for decades.

I know the anticipation of his presumed imminent ascendancy to the Presidency of the Church has some feeling joy and excitement, while others feel anxiety or frustration. That tender moment when President Oaks opened his heart as he opened General Conference sets the tone for how I want to invite you to approach him as the probable new leader of the Church: with empathy, curiosity, and a willingness to see not only his divinely-appointed office but his humanity.

A Ministry of Law and Love

These stories and insights show how President Oaks’ seriousness about sacred things reflects not coldness but reverence. They flow naturally from his lifelong effort to balance love and law—firm in conviction yet humble enough to be guided by the Spirit.

When his critics accuse him of harshness, they often stop reading before they reach the part where he pleads with us to treat each other tenderly. It’s true: it is all too easy to call out sin. It is far harder to move beyond professing love to practicing it—leaning in, reaching out, and staying committed without reservation. Yet that is exactly what he asks of us—and what he tries, however imperfectly, to model himself.

These glimpses into his private spirituality show how his devotion to divine law deepens, not diminishes, his capacity for love. A poignant anecdote from Richard Turley’s biography of him adds further insight. Early in his calling as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, he gave a 45-minute talk to a local congregation in New Zealand that was peppered with personal stories and humorous asides. The audience ate it up (as I would have), but he later recorded in his journal feeling rebuked by the Spirit (“never do that again”), warning him to focus more on preaching and testifying of Jesus Christ.

His current wife, Sister Kristen Oaks, remarked to Turley that one of his daughters said to him, “Daddy, you look like you are mad sometimes when you speak.” But Sister Oaks explains, “he was never angry or irritated, just somber as he shared sacred truths.”  It seems like in President Oaks, we have the inspired leader the Lord needs us to have, even if we may not always realize it or appreciate it.

The Purpose of a General Authority

President Oaks once explained, “As a General Authority, it is my responsibility to preach general principles. When I do, I don’t try to define all the exceptions.” He was describing not cold detachment but duty—the call to declare doctrine broadly and trust members to apply it individually; in the same address, he quotes Joseph Smith: “I teach [people] correct principles and they govern themselves.” I believe the perceived firmness we sometimes hear in his addresses grows out of that stewardship, not a lack of compassion. In private, he is always described as gentle, personal, approachable, even playful, and cracking jokes. (When my friend met him at his local Church meeting, he introduced himself as “Brother Oaks.”) I think understanding this difference between his public General Authority ministry and his personal ministry “to the one” helps us broaden our perspectives and judgments about him.

Seeing Beyond the Headlines

President Oaks’ comments about sexual and gender minorities have often stirred controversy. Some hear his warnings about “gender confusion” as a lack of understanding or criticism of people. But careful attention to his words suggests otherwise.

That distinction matters. It may not erase the pain some have felt from his words, but it clarifies the intent behind them: to preserve a pattern he believes God established, not to belittle the people he knows God cherishes.

Private Encounters of Warmth and Humor

Those who have met him describe a different side than his public reputation, as stern, aloof, and detached. One of my friends, a man who experiences same-sex attraction, met privately with President Oaks years ago. He expected formality; what he got was warmth and humor. President Oaks cracked jokes, asked penetrating questions, and listened with real interest. Another friend saw him after a controversial address and mentioned the online uproar. President Oaks simply smiled and said he paid no attention to it before asking for personal details about my friend, wanting to get to know my friend, rather than (as I likely would have) getting distracted by and sucked into the drama about himself. His focus on what truly mattered in that moment struck me—it wasn’t indifference, but a refusal to let outrage define his ministry, or allow controversy to detract from connection with the person in front of him.

Recall that other incident when he visited my other friend’s downtown ward: he introduced himself not as “Elder Oaks,” but as “Brother Oaks.” That single word change encompasses a world of meaning. It said, in effect, I am one of you. He did the same thing when he visited my Stake a few years ago—showing that this is not a one‑time gesture but a pattern of humility. Whatever else one may think of his expository style, humility is part of his discipleship.

Stories of Compassion and Bridge‑Building

One of President Oaks’ relatives and a friend of mine within the North Star community (an LDS-focused ministry for sexual and gender minorities and their families) once shared a moment that beautifully captures his heart. In 2019, at a family reunion, this friend’s gay son and his husband attended–though a bit hesitantly. President Oaks, then in his mid‑eighties, went out of his way to greet this family. With unmistakable kindness, he warmly greeted the son and his husband. That simple act sent a clear message to everyone there: we can always choose to be kind, loving, and welcoming—no matter what.

This North Star friend also recalled that an attorney involved in the Utah “Fairness for All” legislation described how pivotal President Oaks’ behind‑the‑scenes efforts had been. And those efforts did not stop in Utah. People close to the process of the federal Respect for Marriage Act confirm that he worked relentlessly—quietly but personally—to safeguard both religious liberty and LGBT dignity. His conviction was steady: religious freedom and civil respect can and must coexist. I can confirm this—I heard the same thing from more than one employee at Church Headquarters. 

Similarly, I know of another person who struggles with persistent gender dysphoria and hears from President Oaks often, asking questions and offering support and encouragement. 

These two examples also suggest that those who assume President Oaks is unaware of the personal and private pain experienced by sexual and gender minorities—and that if he knew more, he would speak differently—may want to reconsider that assumption.

A Broader Pattern of Growth and Change

Prophetic callings often bring new emphases. Ezra Taft Benson was famous as a fierce anti‑communist throughout the time he was an apostle. Yet, once he was ordained President, he became the prophet of “flooding the earth with the Book of Mormon” and warning about pride. I cannot predict what themes President Oaks will be inspired to emphasize as president, but we should not assume that the themes he has dwelt upon during his apostleship will extend to his presidency. His legal mind may still prize order, but his heart, refined by years of listening to those who hurt, seems relentlessly focused on healing and unity. Whatever happens, his record shows consistency in one thing: he deeply and lovingly respects people, even when he cannot agree with them.

A Personal Connection to the Family-Centered Gospel

In his concluding remarks at the October 2025 General Conference, President Oaks emotionally recounted the pain and grief he experienced as a young boy upon learning from his Grandfather Harris that his father had died of tuberculosis. Fleeing to his room, he collapsed on his bedside and cried out to God. This personal tragedy gave President Oaks a firsthand understanding of the profound impact on children when families are fragmented. He acknowledges that few families fully embody the ideals presented in the Proclamation on the Family, often due to circumstances outside our control. However, his own experience as a suddenly fatherless child highlights the suffering that arises when those ideals are not achieved. That burden is primarily borne by the most vulnerable—our children. It is likely that his own experience of fatherlessness has made the ideals expressed in the Proclamation, particularly the statement that “children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother,” especially meaningful to him.

An Invitation to a Fresh Start

Some may still struggle with his tone or with the weight of his words—both past and their fears of his future words. That is understandable. I get it. I have been pricked by his words more than once myself. But perhaps the challenge is not to turn away from him, but to walk beside him—to practice the same discipline he preaches: loving without surrendering conviction, and holding conviction without losing love. When I’ve tried to do that with his words or other leaders’ words, the spiritual struggle has always been worth it.

If, as I expect, President Oaks will soon rise to lead the Church, then we will also have the chance to rise a level as well. To accept the challenge he’s set before us, to prove that disciples of Christ can hold truth and tenderness in the same outstretched hands, that we can disagree with courage, clarity, and love. I pray we will enter this new season of the Church not with fear or cynicism, but with faith: faith that God can continue to work through imperfect servants to do perfecting work. I know He has done that with me, and I am very far from perfect. If we can try to trust that divine pattern, then perhaps, under President Oaks’ leadership, we will all have opportunities to increase our ability to love boldly, speak truly, and walk humbly before our Heavenly Father.

Further Reading

For those who would like to explore more of President Oaks’ compassionate and faith‑filled teachings, consider reading or watching these talks:

1. He Heals the Heavy Laden (October 2006) – A deeply empathetic message about how the Savior heals our burdens and sorrows.
2. Love and Law (October 2009) – His foundational statement on how divine commandments and divine compassion work together.
3. The Paradox of Love and Law (BYU–Idaho Devotional) – A more conversational address on the same theme, rich with examples of humility and understanding.
4. Love Is the Great Commandment and the Law Is the Great Framework (October 2024) – His most recent treatment of this balance, emphasizing empathy and faith.
5. Helping the Poor and Distressed (October 2022) – Focused on compassion, ministering, and the Christian call to lift the vulnerable.
6. Always Remember Him (April 1988) – An early talk reflecting his tenderness and reverence for the Savior’s atonement.

The post When Law Meets Love: Dallin H. Oaks’ Ministry to Sexual and Gender Minorities appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Amanda Freebairn

There has been much discussion in the Christian world in recent weeks about Latter-day Saint Doctrine. This weekend, the two most senior apostles, President Dallin H. Oaks and Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, made our core doctrines clear: We are children of loving Heavenly Parents who sent Their Son, Jesus Christ, to redeem the world. He “is our ultimate role model [and] we will be blessed if we model our lives after His teachings and self-sacrifice.” The Book of Mormon testifies of Him. Families are central to Their Plan of Salvation. We come to know the Savior “much more personally” through sacred ordinances, administered by priesthood authority that traces back in an “unbroken sequence back to Jesus Christ” Himself. How needed these simple and powerful truths are in our hurting world. 

Carol Rice

This conference impressed upon me the power of conviction and the principle that sustains it.

Both Sister Tracy Y. Browning’s and Elder Kevin G. Brown’s closing testimonies were unforgettable. She repeated “I know” again and again, more than six times, with a strength that was both unashamed and refreshing. Elder Brown used similar language when he closed with a fervent appeal:

“If you know, you know. I know that I know. We need more sure witnesses of Jesus Christ and His gospel. Get there! Seek it! It is urgent! This is the final dispensation—the dispensation of the fullness of times.”

In a world where faith is often whispered, their witness reminded me that knowledge born of testimony can and must be spoken.

Elder Soares then gave me a principle to learn better: serenity alongside conviction. He taught of temperance, explaining that it is a meaningful way to protect our souls against constant spiritual erosion. He promised that as we weave temperance into our actions and words, “a serene strength arises” in us. In recent days, I’ve observed this in those I admire, those “capable of restraining anger, nurturing patience, and treating others with tolerance, respect, and dignity, even (especially) when the winds of adversity blow fiercely.” I now have a focus for my aspirations.

Two other talks reminded us of one place where such conviction, alongside temperance, is especially needed. Elder Rasband and President Oaks testified of our family-centered gospel. Both affirmed that the doctrine of the family is not cultural but eternal. President Oaks reminded us gently that what our “children really want for dinner is time with us.” He shared tender stories of his own childhood and family life, where those realities were forged.

Conference as a whole was both a balm and a motivation. We heard bold testimonies, learned how to live them through principles like temperance, and were reminded to be ever hopeful in repentance and in the promises of eternal life made possible through our Savior.

CD Cunningham

In the shadow of the Michigan meetinghouse attack, the Saturday morning session turned resolutely to peacemaking—not as naïveté, but as covenant work that begins within. Elder Gary E. Stevenson opened by acknowledging those “mourning loss,” including the “hallowed chapel in Michigan,” and taught that real peace starts “in the most basic place—in our hearts,” then moves to homes and communities, inviting a one-week practice of contention-free homes, digital bridge-building, and repairing strained relationships. Elder Ronald M. Barcellos focused that lens even tighter: the Lord “looketh on the heart” and asks for a “broken heart and a contrite spirit,” offering, through Christ, to make “weak things become strong” as we turn to Him with real intent. He suggested spiritual “heart tests”—our focus, obedience, scripture-fed desire for revelation, and the words we speak—and prescribed daily discipleship that yields a “new heart.” Then, Elder Ulisses Soares supplied the stabilizing virtue that makes such peace durable: temperance—the Spirit-governed self-mastery that restrains anger and contention, harmonizes humility, faith, hope, and charity, and, like the reinforced foundations of the Salt Lake Temple, shores up our covenants against erosion.  Together, these messages answer violence with conversion: change your heart, then your home, and peace will ripple outward. In a week of grief, the call was not to harden, but to be healed—and to heal.

Danny Frost

Elder Uchtdorf provided a beautiful reminder of how gospel truth can be taught and learned. Part of his talk focused on how many of us feel less than others, imagining that “in the premortal existence on the day of the great gift and talent smorgasbord, [our] plate seemed awfully sparse especially compared to the stacked and overflowing plates of others.” He then went on to say this:

 “Oh, how I wish I could embrace you and help you understand this great truth. You are a blessed being of light, the spirit child of an infinite God. And you bear within you a potential beyond beyond your own capacity to imagine.”

 Elder Uchtdorf exudes love in a way that makes it easy to recognize and understand God’s love for us. Brent Top, former Dean of Religious Education at BYU, has written about how a hug from Elder Uchtdorf was a turning point in his service as a mission president: “Elder Uchtdorf’s expression of love at that moment was a monumentally transforming event for me, and I wanted my missionaries to feel something akin to what I felt from him.” A few years ago, my son also received a hug from Elder Uchtdorf, and watching that happen was one of the sweetest moments of my life. I was overwhelmed with a sense of Heavenly Father’s love for my son. What Elder Uchtdorf offered in this moment was not a statement of fact about God’s love, but instead an embodiment of what that love might look like in practice.

Gale Boyd

During Saturday’s sessions, I especially felt a call to repentance as a gentle, healing balm in our lives—as in a call from Elder Kearon to a new beginning that will bless our lives in many ways. In these supplications, we always hear that we can never drift too far or sink too low for Christ’s love to lift and redeem us. Elder Uchtdorf’s talk clarified that Christ has already done the hardest part in this journey, although we must act on faith to build the confidence to continue and endure. 

From Elder Kearon: “All of us can have a new beginning through, and because of, Jesus Christ. Even you. … This is the church of new beginnings! This is the church of fresh starts! … You can actually change things about yourself that have been wearing you down for years. You can start again through the might of the Master of new beginnings.” And, “We don’t have just one chance. These new beginnings can happen every day!”

From Elder Uchtdorf: “Faith in Jesus Christ is a gift, but receiving it is a conscious choice that requires a commitment of ‘might, mind, and strength’” (Moroni 10:32). … Simply put, discipleship takes self-discipline. And, “I urge and bless every member of the Church and all who desire to be part of it to trust the Savior enough to engage, patiently and diligently, in doing your part with all your heart — that your joy may be full and that, one day, you will receive all the Father has.”

Matthew Hildebrandt

In this conference, belonging was about genuine connection—feeling seen, supported, and spiritually rooted. Elder Gerrit W. Gong described the Savior’s Church as an “inn” where “no one sits alone,” urging us to create spaces of warmth and love that let people breathe and feel safe enough to grow.  Elder Peter M. Johnson shared how simple acts of presence can heal: a missionary companion who said nightly, “Elder Johnson, I love you,” helped him feel the Spirit again. Ministering “to the one,” he taught, lifts hearts and leads people back to the house of the Lord.  Elder William K. Jackson grounded that love in structure—leaders who “know names,” “count and account,” and make it “difficult to forget a soul.” Together, their messages remind us that belonging isn’t an abstract feeling; it’s practiced connection—seeing and naming one another, showing up with love, and walking each other toward Christ.

The post When Peacemaking Meets Tragedy: General Conference ‘25 appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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It has been thrilling times for members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the United States. The deepening polarization in US politics has shone a spotlight on efforts made by leaders of the Church to reduce the intensity of political conflicts. It is into this moment that Brigham Young University’s Wheatley Institute invited Jonathan Rauch to speak about his new book, Cross Purposes: Christianity’s Broken Bargain with Democracy.

The invitation should not be surprising given the book’s generous engagement with Latter-day Saint politics, history, and doctrine. Few books and authors by non-Latter-day Saints have sought to understand the faith and its political journey in the US with such kindhearted interest. And this interest comes despite the chasm between the author and the LDS faith on “culture war issues.” This sort of engagement should prompt some thoughtful reflection by Latter-day Saints regarding the ways in which their faith intersects with today’s political environment, and Rauch’s visit should inspire efforts to establish a distinct civic theology that uplifts people and supports the republic.

The crux of Hancock’s critique seems to be that Rauch’s olive branch is really a poisoned apple—that Rauch’s proposed liberal/Christian synthesis will undermine Christian witness in general and Latter-day Saint beliefs in particular. Though “liberalism” does a good deal of heavy lifting in Hancock’s argument, he does not define it with enough precision to know whether it actually poses a threat to Christian beliefs. His argument seems to have three steps: liberalism undermines Christianity; Rauch is a liberal; therefore, Rauch’s thinking undermines Christianity. But one could accept the first and second steps without accepting the third. “Liberalism” means many things to many people, but for Hancock’s argument to work, we are simply supposed to accept on faith that liberalism carries within itself a moral framework that poses a threat to Christian belief and practices. QED. 

While Hancock does not provide his own definition of liberalism, he assigns one to Rauch. The definition that Hancock saddles Rauch with involves being “governed by rules and not by rulers.” The definition places emphasis on the procedures and processes by which citizens of a polity arbitrate their differences. Hancock further garnishes the definition with negative moral implications. He writes that ‘[we] are thus asked to believe that the “rules” we must follow favor no class of persons and are absolutely neutral with respect to contending views of human flourishing, as if a regime of laws, institutions, and regulations could somehow equally honor all possible priorities of the governed.’ That characterization of liberalism reduces politics to a static zero-sum game.

And yet Rauch himself does not make those claims for liberalism. Rauch already concedes that the application of rules and the outcome of processes will not, if ever, be equal. For that reason, politics will always be necessary to sort out the competing claims made by citizens and groups. Rauch’s interest in Christianity is that the process itself might be less bitter and divisive if a process that is ongoing is fortified by values that only Christianity can impart to the political process.

Hancock casts doubt on the sincerity of such a project by arguing that Rauch once believed that the only way for the religious and the non-religious to exist was by creating a strict separation between the practices of the two. Hancock says “[w]hereas he [Rauch] once thought the best way to deal with the religion and politics question was to require a strict ‘separation between church and state,’ he now sees this approach as simplistic and inadequate. The problem today is that religion (the former majority belief, which Rauch labels ‘white Protestantism’) is bound up with politics in the wrong way.” The outreach that Rauch makes is not to be received because his original position somehow taints the current effort to work with religions.

This is why Hancock’s attack on Rauch for his scientific framework is puzzling. Early on, Rauch writes, “My claim is not just that secular liberalism and religious faith are instrumentally interdependent but that each is intrinsically reliant on the other to build a morally and epistemically complete and coherent account of the world.” This does not sound like a rationalist project to replace religion. Rather, it sounds like the project described by Charles Taylor in his tome A Secular Age. Taylor writes that we have moved on from a condition “in which it was virtually impossible not to believe in God, to one in which faith, even for the staunchest believer, is one human possibility among others … Belief in God is no longer axiomatic. There are alternatives.” Rauch seems to be doing what believers and non-believers have done ever since: explore the borderlands between two powerful modes of thought and see whether a society composed of multiple moral claims can cohere. But Hancock will have none of it. He does not want to engage, writing dismissively that “Rauch seeks a Christianity that will somehow complete liberalism in practice, but without interfering in any substantial way with its ‘scientific’ epistemology or with its ‘progressive’ understanding of ‘freedom’ and ‘equality.’”

Rather than disparaging Christianity’s contribution, Rauch is highlighting it as part of a moral foundation that can make meaningful democratic deliberation possible. In these sorts of interactions, the parties must not dominate each other or seek to always have their position prevail. Once again, President Oaks acknowledges the possibility of such a dynamic when he writes, “[on] a broader front, what if the conflicting demands of civil and religious law are such that they cannot be resolved by negotiation? Such circumstances rarely exist. If they do, the experience of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints suggests that a way can be found to reconcile divine and human law — through patience, negotiation, and mutual accommodation, without judicial fiat or other official coercion.” This is a message of hope that Hancock’s pessimistic view of liberalism impulsively forecloses.

Hancock also disapproves of those who use the language of modern liberalism to seek compromise. For Hancock, the liberal framework flattens the moral terrain by demanding that people must “respect” all opinions and treat all people with “fairness.” He claims that it would be “wrong” to respect a particular practice even when we are required to live with it as a feature of a nation’s legal and social practices. The challenge for Christianity is to avoid “losing its vertical orientation, its moral and religious substance.” Indeed, from Hancock’s perspective, it would be impossible to extend real “respect” to such practices because their violation of a moral law is not something that can be respected. Latter-day Saints may be able to accommodate the practices, but they can never respect them. Thus, when they use such terms as “respect and “fairness,” they have unwittingly adopted the individualistic and relativistic frameworks that reduce all morality to a contest of opinions.

There is a contradiction, though, in this argument. Hancock cites President Oaks’ 2011 essay as support for the faith’s values: “Our tolerance and respect for others and their beliefs does not cause us to abandon our commitment to the truths we understand and the covenants we have made. We must stand up for truth, even while we practice tolerance and respect for beliefs and ideas different from our own and for the people who hold them.” But earlier, Hancock asserts that, “If the metaphysical demand for human autonomy that underlies the radical redefinition of marriage is wrong, even evil, then it would be wrong to ‘respect’ it, even when we must accommodate it legally and politically.” So, which is it? Is respect possible when there are fundamental disagreements, or is President Oaks wrong to suppose that some form of respect is possible with others who believe differently?

What is the alternative to Rauch that Hancock is proposing? Ultimately, Hancock’s view of politics seems to be a pessimistic one. His formulation of the problem does not require much in the way of new efforts from Latter-day Saints. Indeed, it seems to parrot the approach of those elements of modern Christianity who fervently embrace fear. “Sharp” Christianity is a Christianity that approaches politics out of fear. A fear of having its tenets undermined or its congregants corrupted. The fear originates in the lack of or ineffective ways in which Christians learn and practice their faith. This is the “thin” version of Christianity Rauch describes. It is a version of Christianity that is “too thin to provide meaning and morals to the culture and thus reliably support democratic society.” And it does not seem to be able to generate versions of “respect” and “love” that can provide more stable foundations for a republic. Is this effort dangerous for Latter-day Saints? Only if you accept Hancock’s papering over of the differences between “thick” and “thin” Christianity.

A further concerning aspect of Hancock’s critique is the rhetorical strategies he uses to sow doubt about the desirability of engaging somebody who makes arguments like Rauch’s. Hancock’s argument invokes a form of psychologizing, speculating that the interest expressed by Latter-day Saints in such endeavors must be rooted in some “psychological and sociological need felt by many Christians.” Thus, people who would want to engage Rauch must suffer from some inferiority complex.

But if we are going to allow speculation about the motives of the Latter-day Saints who listened attentively to Rauch, why not also consider in those speculations the stated motives of the people who organized the event and who were there? Apparently, those motivations cannot explain the interest. For Hancock, the only people who can show interest in these ideas have some subconscious need to be liked by a representative of the “liberal” establishment.

Hancock’s rhetoric also “poisons the well,” a logical fallacy meant to demean a person or group and to distract the reader. Rauch confesses he does not share in the faith practiced by the religious. But Hancock asserts that arguments or efforts that originate from such a place cannot be taken seriously. He writes, “It is from this standpoint that [Rauch] proposes to instruct the reader on the true, operative meaning of Christianity in American society today.” Well, yes. We know that Rauch is an atheist. But what is it about atheism that disqualifies Rauch from talking about Christ-like values?  Hancock never really says. Apparently, a different set of cosmological assumptions means that Rauch can no longer engage the dynamic between Christian belief and questions of good government. And the tactic of labeling Rauch as an “atheist” only seems intended to inhibit engagement. If we want to foster engagement that can help alleviate the rancor in politics, we might consider following the counsel of President Oaks in his Virginia speech when he said that “[a] basic step is to avoid labeling our adversaries with epithets such as “godless” or “bigots.” 

Latter-day Saints, and presumably others, must find a way to extend more than a cursory respect to people on the other side of the disputes. It is a tall task and requires Latter-day Saints to find a way to truly love people while disagreeing with them about the most fundamental issues. When the stakes seem existential, as they often do in a two-party system, both the winner and the loser in these contests must act even better by recognizing the challenge. This is where the “thick” form of Christianity practiced by Latter-day Saints can come in handy. President Oaks writes, “What I have described as necessary to going forward—namely, seeking harmony by finding practical solutions to our differences, with love and respect for all people—does not require any compromise of core principles.” 

Latter-day Saints, with their access to the resources of the restored gospel, can accomplish more than what Hancock thinks possible. We can engage in politics with love and respect. In the Virginia address, President Oaks hints at where we might begin by telling the story of Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks. “When he [the rabbi] agreed to meet with a staunch atheist who detested everything he held sacred, the Rabbi was asked whether he would try to convert him. “No,” he answered, “I’m going to do something much better than that. I’m going to listen to him.” So, what are we, as Latter-day Saints, going to do that is “much better?”

The post Latter-day Saints at Liberalism’s Crossroads: A Response to Hancock appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Part two in a series of two.

In the first article of this two-part series, I defined Air Bud Theology and provided an example of its most common form: justifying a belief or practice not through explicit doctrinal or scriptural support, but rather through the absence of an explicit prohibition. In this second article, I will examine another widely used form: recontextualizing an approved past or current behavior or practice as precedent for introducing an unrecognized one. One of the most prevalent examples of this second approach is the application of queer theory—a framework that challenges traditional understandings of gender and sexuality, arguing that these concepts are, essentially, nothing more than social constructs rather than fixed biological realities—to Latter-day Saint history and practice.

Queer Theory and the Latter-day Saint Cosmos

Authors such as Taylor Petrey and Blaire Ostler have argued that with the proper application of queer theory, Latter-day Saint teachings on family, divine embodiment, and eternal relationships can accommodate non-heterosexual or “queer” identities. They contend that Latter-day Saint cosmology, when analyzed through the lens of postmodern gender deconstruction that is foundational to queer theory, actually provides theological resources that could support non-heterosexual interpretations of gender and sexuality.

While these ambiguities do exist, however, they do not provide means for radically reconfiguring Latter-day Saint teachings on gender and family. The fundamental premise of Latter-day Saint cosmology has always been the eternal complementarity of male and female within the divine order, even amid unresolved questions such as the origins of spirits. The existence of theological gaps does not automatically justify speculative reinterpretations that deviate from core doctrinal principles. The primary flaw in using lingering theological uncertainty to argue for a “queer” Latter-day Saint cosmos is the total lack of evidence that Joseph Smith—or any of his successors—ever conceived of non-heterosexual marriage unions in the eternal worlds in the first place. Proponents of this revisionist theology run headlong into a doctrinal brick wall when confronting the cosmology articulated by Joseph Smith, as this cosmology was fundamentally rooted in two principles that are completely anathema to contemporary queer theory: gender essentialism and heteronormativity. 

Joseph’s vision of eternal relationships was structured around complementary male and female roles. Central to his theology was the belief that exaltation—the highest state of salvation—was achievable only through the eternal union of man and woman in celestial marriage. This doctrine, outlined in such texts as Doctrine and Covenants 132 (which queer theorists routinely regard as a misogynistic theological dinosaur at best or an insidious, coercive pseudo-revelation at worst), established marriage not merely as a social institution but as an eternal, divinely ordained structure that mirrored the organization of heaven itself. In this formulation, gender is not fluid or socially constructed; rather, it is an inherent and eternal characteristic of both human and divine beings. (The roots of the Family Proclamation run deep.) Joseph’s cosmology extended into the eternal worlds, where deified men and women would continue to perpetuate an unending cycle of celestial family formation—what the text calls “a continuation of the seeds forever and ever” (v. 19). This doctrine, often referred to as “eternal increase” in Latter-day Saint parlance, was central to the Nauvoo-era temple rituals, stressing that exaltation was not merely about individual progression but about the continuation of divine lineage through sexual complementarity ratified and sealed by priesthood authority.

The fundamental question, then, is whether Latter-day Saint cosmology can accommodate modern conceptions of identity—especially “queer” identity—or if the very nature of exaltation, as Joseph Smith envisioned it, inherently disrupts such earthly categories as typically imagined. To me, the answer seems fairly obvious: Joseph’s Nauvoo cosmology leaves no room for a reified, immutable queer identity as understood in contemporary terms. His teachings on exaltation, eternal increase, and divine relationality are inextricably tied to male-female complementarity. 

To be sure, many questions remain unanswered about the precise nature of life and identity in the Celestial Kingdom, and I do not presume to claim that we fully understand what our celestial relationships will entail. Likewise, nothing in my argument justifies discrimination or mistreatment of queer-identifying individuals in society or in our interpersonal relationships. What I am saying, however, is that lingering uncertainties cannot be used to justify an extreme revisionist reinterpretation of the theology of exaltation. The doctrinal structure of Joseph Smith’s Nauvoo temple cosmology is fundamentally incompatible with the assumptions of contemporary queer theory, which proposes an understanding of identity that directly contradicts the revealed order of eternal relationships. We therefore seem to be faced with a stark choice—one that calls to mind the words of Christ: “No man can serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24). If Joseph Smith’s vision of exaltation is true, then it is not infinitely adaptable to secular ideological frameworks. Rather than attempting to force one system into the other, we must decide which framework we accept as authoritative—prophetic revelation or critical revisionism.

The Misuse of Polygamy as a Queer Precedent

As part of this cosmology, Joseph Smith introduced sealing ordinances, which bound marriages and families together across generations, reinforcing a vision of exaltation as the expansion of divine kinship. An important outgrowth of this practice was plural marriage, which Joseph privately introduced to a small group of Latter-day Saints in the early 1840s before it became openly practiced starting in the early 1850s. Controversial as it was (and is), plural marriage fits squarely within Joseph Smith’s heteronormative and gender-essentialist cosmology, as it functioned as an expansion—not a deviation—of the foundational principle that exaltation was predicated on the eternal union of man and woman.

However, this interpretation misunderstands both the function and intent of plural marriage. While polygamy was certainly abnormal or unconventional by 19th-century American social standards—so much so that it induced federal disenfranchisement and nationwide scorn—it did not “queer” the fundamental gender complementarity embedded in Latter-day Saint theology. Instead, it reinforced and expanded it. Plural marriage was predicated on the principle that male-female unions were essential for exaltation. So its very purpose was, in part, to increase the opportunities for individuals to enter into such unions. But rather than disrupting Latter-day Saint gender roles, it entrenched them by emphasizing patriarchal authority, reproductive capacity, and priesthood governance. All three aspects of celestial (and plural) marriage are articulated in Doctrine and Covenants 132, which uses Abraham and the covenantal promise of innumerable posterity as the archetype for Saints to follow (vv. 29–37).

Early Latter-day Saint plural marriage was never conceived as an “egalitarian” expansion of sexual opportunity in the way that queer theorists or polyamorous advocates often envision today. Plural marriage was instead a patriarchal structuring of male-female unions, where men presided over multiple wives, but not vice versa. The practice was highly regulated, with only one living individual—the president of the Church—holding the keys to “this priesthood” and overseeing its administration (D&C 132:7). There was no provision for a woman to be sealed to multiple men concurrently, nor was there any permission for her to have multiple sexual partners (sexual polyandry). Chastity within plural marriage was strictly mandated for both men and women, with severe consequences (typically excommunication) for adultery or unauthorized plural unions.

Equally problematic for queer theorists who wish to cite the historical practice of plural marriage as some kind of precedent for same-sex sealings today, within Latter-day Saint polygamous households, the fundamental heteronormative and patriarchal structure of eternal marriage remained fully intact. This is indeed precisely why many modern queer theorists are uncomfortable with early Latter-day Saint polygamy. Blaire Ostler, for instance, bemoans in Queer Mormon Theology that early polygamy did not provide for non-traditional gender or sexual arrangements she believes are necessary for a fully modern, egalitarian sexual ethic. The undeniably stark gender asymmetry in early Latter-day Saint polygamy—where only men could have multiple spouses—makes it fundamentally incompatible with the modern queer vision of fluid, sexually egalitarian relationships.

The Misuse of the Law of Adoption as a Queer Precedent

Some authors also point to the Law of Adoption, a 19th-century Latter-day Saint practice in which men were sealed to priesthood leaders, as potential precedent for reimagining eternal relationships, including the possibility of non-heterosexual unions within Latter-day Saint theology. Nate Oman, for example, highlights this practice in his case for a theology of same-sex marriage in the Church. He notes that “sealing practices manifest great diversity within the categories of marriage and adoption” in the formative decades of the Church. In this, Oman is correct—the historical record does show that early sealing practices lacked uniformity and took time to formalize into the structure that is normative today. Because of this early diversity, Oman suggests that same-sex sealings might similarly one day find a place in the Church’s theological evolution. While at first glance the Law of Adoption may seem to complicate the traditional male-female structure of eternal relationships, and thereby lend itself to an accommodation of same-sex sealings, a closer examination shows that, similar to plural marriage, it functioned as an extension of, rather than a departure from, the fundamental principles of Latter-day Saint kinship theology.

More importantly, and more problematic for those who may see it as precedent for same-sex sealings, the Law of Adoption did not grant moral permission for homosexual relationships. There is no evidence that any such allowance was ever granted in this practice. Instead, it reinforced the patriarchal structure of divine kinship by emphasizing a father-son relationship rather than a sexual or romantic one. Unless queer theorists are proposing that same-sex-attracted Saints be sealed to Russell M. Nelson or Dallin H. Oaks as their adopted sons, the Law of Adoption bears no real resemblance to modern same-sex relationships. The historical practice was about creating priesthood-based familial networks, not redefining celestial marriage. By contrast, contemporary arguments for same-sex sealings seek to establish male-male or female-female sexual and domestic partnerships as a parallel to male-female unions, which directly conflicts with the Law of Adoption as it was historically practiced.

When Wilford Woodruff officially ended the practice of adoption in 1894, he did so in favor of extending the biological family model of sealing that is now central to Latter-day Saint theology. But even as Woodruff closed the door on the practice of adoption sealings, he left open a window, stating, “We want the Latter-day Saints from this time to trace their genealogies as far as they can, and to be sealed to their fathers and mothers. Have children sealed to their parents, and run this chain through as far as you can get it. When you get to the end, let the last man be adopted to Joseph Smith, who stands at the head of the dispensation.” In saying so, Woodruff shifted the focus from priesthood-based adoption to biological lineage while still maintaining a theological framework that tied all Latter-day Saints into a unified, covenantal family under Joseph Smith, the head of the dispensation. The Law of Adoption was thus an administrative practice designed to reinforce priesthood lineage, not a fundamental alteration of Joseph Smith’s Nauvoo cosmology. It never replaced celestial marriage, never allowed for alternative family structures that bypassed male-female complementarity, and was ultimately discontinued in favor of a model that more explicitly emphasized biological kinship as the foundation of exaltation. It does not provide a precedent for dismantling the gender essentialism and heteronormativity inherent in both Joseph Smith’s teachings and the current Church’s.

Air Bud Theology as a Misreading of Latter-day Saint Doctrine

These common arguments made by queer theorists in search of accommodating same-sex sealings, while perhaps sincere and earnest, are good examples of the second form of what I call Air Bud Theology. These authors construct theological possibilities largely by exploiting ambiguities. Oman openly acknowledges as much, stating that his “goal is to accommodate uncertainty on the precise eternal status of homosexuality,” prompting one reviewer to succinctly characterize Oman’s methodology as essentially saying, “We don’t know, so we might as well.” But such agnosticism is not grounds for a radical departure from revealed truth. Nor is any supposed lack of explicit discussion on same-sex sealings evidence of their implicit possibility; rather, it reflects the fact that the entire Latter-day Saint doctrine of exaltation has presupposed heterosexual marriage from the beginning.

To be clear, I am not suggesting that asking good-faith questions or exploring theological possibilities within the established parameters of Latter-day Saint doctrine is the same as Air Bud Theology. There is a meaningful distinction between engaging with unresolved theological questions and using ambiguity as a tool to justify doctrinal revisionism. What defines Air Bud Theology is how it functions—not as an earnest inquiry but as a mechanism for introducing ideological preferences into a theological system that was never designed to accommodate them. It does not simply raise good-faith questions; it selectively exploits perceived loopholes and ambiguities to push doctrinal innovations that align with modern secular thought. At its worst, Air Bud Theology is a form of ideological colonization.

The post Air Bud Theology Meets Queer Theory: Loopholes in Latter-day Saint Doctrine appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Part one of two in the series.

As a child of the ’90s, one of my favorite movies is Air Bud (1997). For those unfamiliar with this modern cinematic masterpiece—the Citizen Kane of our time—Air Bud tells the story of a young boy named Josh who discovers a stray Golden Retriever named Buddy with an uncanny talent for basketball. When Josh joins his school’s basketball team, the Timberwolves, Buddy’s skills quickly earn him a spot as an unofficial team member. During the championship game, when one of the players is injured, Buddy is brought in as a substitute. The opposing team objects, leading to the following exchange:

Josh: Canine checking in.
Opposing Coach: What the heck’s going on here?
Timberwolves Coach: I’ll handle this, Josh.
Referee: Do the Timberwolves want to substitute a dog?
Opposing Coach: What, are they nuts?
Timberwolves Coach: The dog’s a registered member of the team. He practices with the team, he travels with the team. Check your rulebook—I bet you won’t find anything in there that says a dog can’t play.
Referee: He’s right. Ain’t no rule that says a dog can’t play basketball.
Opposing Coach: This is a joke! C’mon, dogs don’t play basketball.
Timberwolves Coach: What’s the matter, gentlemen? Afraid your team might get beat by a dog?
Opposing Coach: Put him in!

The rulebook doesn’t explicitly prohibit dogs from playing, so by that logic, Buddy is allowed on the court. At the risk of explaining the joke, the humor of the scene lies in the absurdity of a dog playing basketball—and in the equally absurd loophole that allows it to happen.

Defining Air Bud Theology

This same logic is sometimes applied to religious topics. A friend of mine, who graciously permitted me to build on his ideas, calls this Air Bud Theology—a theological method that typically takes one of two forms. First, it justifies a belief or practice not through explicit doctrinal or scriptural support, but rather through the absence (real or perceived) of an explicit prohibition. Second, it recontextualizes recognized past or current behavior or practice as precedent for introducing unrecognized behavior. In either instance, this methodology fundamentally operates on the principle of “Ain’t no rule that says a dog can’t play basketball,” applying similar reasoning to religious doctrine and practice—arguing that if something isn’t explicitly forbidden, it must therefore be permissible, even if it was never originally intended or considered within the theological paradigm.

This approach is frequently used to navigate doctrinal gray areas, justify unconventional interpretations, or push the boundaries of traditional teachings, often in alignment with contemporary ideological trends. One of the most prominent recent examples of Air Bud Theology is the claim that Latter-day Saint theology leaves room for same-sex eternal marriages simply because early church teachings and practices contain ambiguities or because foundational doctrinal sources may not explicitly prohibit them. Rather than engaging with the affirmative teachings of the Church, which explicitly define celestial marriage as a male-female union, or which establish a moral standard that “sexual relations are proper only between a man and a woman who are legally and lawfully wedded as husband and wife,” this reasoning relies on the fact that same-sex sealings may not have been technically or explicitly ruled out—despite the overwhelming evidence that they were never even conceived of as part of the eternal order in the first place. As I will explain below, however, the absence of an explicit prohibition on same-sex sealings does not indicate doctrinal openness; rather, it reflects the fact that the entire structure of Latter-day Saint cosmology is built upon foundational principles that render same-sex sealings not merely unaddressed, but fundamentally incompatible with the revealed structure of exaltation.

In part one of this two-part series, I will illustrate the first form of Air Bud Theology: justifying a belief or practice not through explicit doctrinal or scriptural support, but rather through the absence of an explicit prohibition. In part two, I will examine the second form: recontextualizing an approved behavior or practice as precedent for introducing a previously unrecognized behavior.

Air Bud Theology in Action

Consider Jim Bennett, a Latter-day Saint podcaster and blogger, who has argued that same-sex marriages are fully compatible with the teachings in The Family: A Proclamation to the World. As Bennett claims, the document “doesn’t say anything about LGBTQ people at all.” Bennett contends that because the proclamation does not explicitly state, in so many words, that same-sex marriage specifically is not ordained of God, it leaves room for an inclusive interpretation. He writes:

What, you say the Family Proclamation condemns same-sex marriage? No, it doesn’t. It talks about how God loves marriage between a man and a woman, and how procreation shouldn’t take place out of wedlock, and many other commendable things with which I can wholeheartedly agree, all the while leaving the negative stuff—“oh, and same-sex marriage is NOT ordained of God! So there!”—to the reader’s imagination.

Bennett made a similar point in a podcast discussion in July 2023:

The Family Proclamation talks about marriage being ordained of God. It talks about the important nature of the family in the Plan of Salvation. It talks about the importance of putting family life at the centerpiece of every individual’s life, and I think all of those are laudable and wonderful things. The things that are taken from the Family Proclamation are inferences.

The “inferences” Bennett refers to include heterosexual exclusivity and, more specifically, the idea of eternal, immutable gender. He argues that because President Dallin H. Oaks had to explicitly clarify that the word gender in the Family Proclamation refers to biological sex at birth—rather than a socially constructed identity—this suggests that the document itself does not make that meaning explicit. For Bennett, if the Family Proclamation had clearly stated this from the outset, there would have been no need for President Oaks to issue a later clarification. From this reasoning, Bennett concludes that transgender ideology and same-sex marriage are not actually precluded by the Family Proclamation but rather remain permissible within its theological boundaries.

The historical context of the Family Proclamation reinforces this. It was issued in 1995 at a time when legal battles over same-sex marriage were emerging in the United States. Church leaders were keenly aware of these developments and issued the proclamation precisely to affirm heterosexual marriage in anticipation of societal shifts. In his recent biography of President Oaks, Richard E. Turley explains the historical origins of the proclamation:

During the fall of 1994, at the urging of its Acting President, Boyd K. Packer, the Quorum of the Twelve discussed the need for a scripture-based proclamation to set forth the Church’s doctrinal position on the family. A committee consisting of Elders Faust, Nelson, and Oaks was assigned to prepare a draft. Their work, for which Elder Nelson was the principal draftsman, was completed over the Christmas holidays. After being approved by the Quorum of the Twelve, the draft was submitted to the First Presidency on January 9, 1995, and warmly received.

Over the next several months, the First Presidency took the proposed proclamation under advisement and made needed amendments. Then, on September 23, 1995, in the general Relief Society meeting held in the Salt Lake Tabernacle and broadcast throughout the world, Church President Gordon B. Hinckley read “The Family: A Proclamation to the World” publicly for the first time.

During the period that the proclamation was being drafted, Church leaders grew concerned about efforts to legalize same-sex marriage in the state of Hawaii. As that movement gained momentum, a group of Church authorities and Latter-day Saint legal scholars, including Elder Oaks, recommended that the Church oppose the Hawaii efforts.

To suggest that the Family Proclamation leaves doctrinal space for same-sex unions is thus to ignore both the explicit teachings of the proclamation and the clear intent of its authors. Any attempt to read doctrinal or moral ambiguity into the proclamation, the way Bennett does, disregards both its plain language and the historical and theological context in which it was produced. While individuals may interpret or wrestle with its implications in personal ways, the text itself leaves little room for reinterpretation on this issue in the manner encouraged by Bennett.

As we can see from this example, Air Bud Theology often seeks to justify new doctrinal positions based on what is not explicitly prohibited rather than what is clearly taught. This kind of reasoning exemplifies a false premise fallacy—incorrectly assuming, in this instance, that anything not explicitly prohibited must be permissible, even when it contradicts the clear intent of doctrine. It also flirts with equivocation, subtly shifting the meaning of orthodox Latter-day Saint views on the nature of love, marriage, or family to justify conclusions that diverge from the original framework.

In the next installment, we will explore at length the second common form of this reasoning—recontextualizing approved behaviors as precedent for previously unrecognized practices.

The post Air Bud Doctrine: How Ambiguity Becomes Strategy—and Undermines Faith appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

America’s Quilt of Faith is an apolitical, civic nonprofit that champions the idea that religion is indispensable to the American experiment in self-government. For a decade and a half, the organization has engaged with the founding generation’s vision of religion’s necessity: the unique capacity of religious communities to build virtuous citizens. This capacity rested on, in the language of the times, the various denominations’ and faiths’ “future state[s] of rewards and punishment.” That is, religions, wielding divine authority, tell adherents that if they do God’s will while on earth, eternal rewards await them in the life to come. Certainly, religions have advanced alongside society since that time but the basic idea remains valid: religions possess a unique power of persuasion in encouraging their people to live virtuous lives, upon which lives our constitutional democratic republic depends.

Since 2008, America’s Quilt of Faith has explored how America’s religions are fulfilling this mandate. The results are mixed. While affiliation with organized religion is down (something America’s Quilt of Faith sees as harmful to America’s present and future vitality), many, if not all, religions as institutions continue to maintain that theirs is a unique and needed role in society, which they will not give up and for which they will fight. While several of what one might call “traditional” religious commandments are not emphasized from as many pulpits as they once were, chastity before marriage and Sabbath-keeping being two examples (something America’s Quilt of Faith also sees as harmful to America), American religion generally seems to be more aware of marginalized and vulnerable populations and is acting in accordance with that more expansive vision.

While religiously motivated people can and do have reasonable debates about the candidates’ various public policy positions, there is one distressing phenomenon that is anti-constitutional: large numbers of American religionists have given strong and unwavering support, in religion’s name, for Donald Trump, who attempted to stay in power after losing in a free and fair presidential election by overthrowing the United States Constitution. Among the constitution’s key purposes is to ensure the peaceful transfer of power. The constitution instructs that the Vice President “shall” count the electoral votes from the states. Trump, however, strategized to get Mike Pence to ignore that duty and declare Trump reelected instead, preventing the peaceful transfer of power the Constitution dictates.

As the founder and president of an organization that has for years been shouting from the housetops that religion is essential to American democracy and the fulfilling of its purposes in the world, it is extremely distressing when religion is now implicated in the support of a politician who so brazenly tramples American democratic institutions. Because the constitution contains a critical and world-changing religious freedom framework in its Article VI “no religious test for office” clause and First Amendment free exercise and no establishment clauses, religion is biting the hand that feeds it!

Enter The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, a church with only 6.5 million members in the United States, but exerting a larger influence than would be expected by its size because of the organization’s structure, doctrine, religious life, and its members’ robust activity. I have come to believe that this young, American-born Christian denomination (incorporated in New York in 1830) is uniquely situated to break the chokehold the former president has on the Republican party and save the Constitution. 

Members are historically a politically conservative bunch, at least in the United States. Furthermore, they provide significant support for Trump: 45% of Utahns supported him in 2016, and an August 2023 NPI poll found 48% of Republicans in Utah support him now.

However, it also turns out that this group believes in Old Testament-type prophets with a New Testament message, called by God to preach Christ and His Kingdom, and that they should follow these prophets’ counsel.

Significantly, he also told church members, traditionally and strongly Republican in recent decades, that they should always consider switching parties, even from election to election, depending on the most important issues. This suggests that the Republican party’s embrace of Trump should be repudiated, and members of the Church of Jesus Christ can take the lead. Finally, he shared with the world the doctrine that the U.S. Constitution is divine—that Jesus Himself had a hand in bringing it to fruition—and that those who “recognize” Him are called to “uphold and defend its great principles.”

There are many complaints about Donald Trump. They range from complaints about his temperament, to his policies, to the degree of corruption in his administration, among others. Complaints of these types are made about all politicians, and it’s up to voters to weigh the relative merits of those concerns in the voting booth. But because Trump took proactive steps to prevent the peaceful transition of power based on a legal election by overthrowing the Constitution, he represents a grave threat that Oaks seemingly points to as unique and prioritized. Latter-day Saints who have entrenched concerns with other candidates may wonder who else they can vote for if Trump becomes the Republican candidate. It seems Oaks’ urging is rather straightforward: choose among those candidates who do not subvert the Constitution in attempting to prevent the peaceful transition of power, even if you oppose them in other significant ways. There is nothing more foundational to American democracy than that document.

From our vantage point, it appears that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and indeed the entire country, have been given a clarion call to protect the Constitution by emphatically rejecting any and all anti-constitution candidates, including Donald Trump, at the ballot box. If a significant percentage of members in the United States follow Oaks’ counsel (as America’s Quilt of Faith interprets it) and suddenly withdraw their support, stating that his re-election would both harm the Constitution and put it in the gravest of dangers, a political earthquake would be underway. This could initiate a break in the chokehold the former president has on the Republican party that deprives American democracy of life-sustaining breath. Such a movement would have national ramifications by providing both inspiration and cover for millions of religionists to follow suit.

I am in no position to tell members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to heed their prophet in the ways outlined above. But I can say that the United States Constitution has been severely damaged and is threatened once again by certain religionists and that certain religionists, summoning uncommon courage and humility, are the ones that can save it.

The post A Small Church’s Big Bet on the U.S. Constitution appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

His remarks remain both poignant and relevant today. 

Perhaps the most quotable words from his remarks were simple, “Of course, Black lives matter! That is an eternal truth.” His remarks came on the heels of a summer marked by protests over the murder of George Floyd at the hands of a police officer. The organization Black Lives Matter, which was founded in 2013, rose to national prominence, with its name becoming a rallying cry for racial justice. By echoing those same lines, he connected the political moment to theological teachings.

Many prophetic statements only have their complete meaning fully understood with the passage of time. More than three years later, the political conflicts that backgrounded Oaks’ original remarks no longer provide the same context. This separation may allow us to start the process of understanding the fuller theological ramifications of his remarks. 

Oaks is a former lawyer and judge and has a reputation as a very careful speaker. So, our analysis takes for granted that his word choice was quite intentional. And we intend to focus on his remarks about the phrase “Black lives matter.”

Perhaps an understated element of his remarks was the legitimization of a thing that could be described as a “Black life.” 

By saying that “Black lives matter,” Oaks establishes as a first principle that Black lives exist. These lives are marked by challenges specific to their set of circumstances. Oaks quoted Russell M. Nelson, the President of the Church of Jesus Christ, as saying, “I grieve that our Black brothers and sisters the world over are enduring the pains of racism.” Just three weeks prior, in the faith’s General Conference, Oaks had said, “We must do better to help root out racism.” His formulation here seems to suggest that the necessary a priori understanding is that Black lives exist and experience the racism that is to be rooted out.

Once Oaks has identified Black lives as a matter worthy of consideration, he states that these lives “matter.” Matter, in this context, is fairly amorphous. That something “matters” is ultimately a pretty low bar and demands very little of the acknowledger. So, Oaks is sure to expand on this in his remarks. 

He explains that we should not believe that different races qualify as “first-class” or “second-class.” He concludes, “We condemn racism by any group toward any other group worldwide.” While his remarks were clearly influenced by the political circumstances in the United States, where Oaks and other senior leaders of the Church are headquartered, their ramifications expand to multiple similar conflicts in many nations across the globe.

For Oaks, “Black lives matter” appears to mean that the quality of being Black does not affect importance in the eyes of God, nor should it in the eyes of others.

Oaks also positions his remarks within the larger tradition of racial equality within the Church of Jesus Christ. He does not address the Church’s race-based priesthood ban directly. However, his statement that “Any … official practices of racism involve one group whom God created exercising authority or advantage over another group God created” demonstrates a separation from those policies. He describes official policies that create first and second-class races as “outlawed” by the Lord in D&C 101. Rather than focus on that history, Oaks seeks to connect with the progressive racial policies of the faith’s founder Joseph Smith, who strongly advocated against slavery and did ordain Black men to the priesthood.

Latter-day Saints believe in an ongoing process of revelation from prophets and apostles who guide the Church in the here and now. Declaring that these statements against racism are authoritative, Oaks communicated to his Latter-day Saint listeners that they should be treated with the same respect and deference as scripture.

Each of these remarks was given in the lead-up to the 2020 election. Oaks’ remarks clearly indicate his belief that our faith should impact how we behave as political actors. As a new election season begins, their teachings ought to become foundational to our own process in choosing the leaders who will create the kind of society where people of all races are free from racism.

The post How Latter-day Saint Doctrine Confronts America’s Racial Divide appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Some people have taken these statements to mean that members of the Church should basically stop talking about “culture war” issues, particularly on issues related to marriage, family, and sexuality. Conversations on these topics can become heated quickly, and the differing sides often cannot find much common ground. So, perhaps it is better to stay silent. But I think this is a misreading of what President Oaks was asking for. In the same talk in which he called for a cease-fire, he also said this: 

“In view of current experience and culture, how should religious persons and their organizations whose positions are dictated or affected by religious beliefs lobby or otherwise enter the debate on public issues? They should not be required to forego or deny their religious or other beliefs or motivations, but they should be counseled to be prudent. They will usually be most persuasive in political discourse by framing arguments and explaining the value of their positions in terms understandable to and subject to debate with those who do not share their beliefs. All sides should seek to contribute to the reasoned discussion and compromise that are essential in a pluralistic society.”

In essence, President Oaks is asking for a certain kind of engagement. He is urging us to give reasons for our positions—reasons that are intelligible to people who do not share our faith and which are subject to evaluation and debate—and then be willing to try to find a way to live together in a pluralistic society. 

Now, some readers might say that President Oaks is asking for the impossible, for (they believe) there simply are no non-religious reasons for the Church’s positions on sex and family. At best, such views are based in tradition, and at worst, they are based in prejudice and bigotry—or so the standard line goes.

Which false views am I referring to? Take, for starters, the way that depersonalized sex is normalized and celebrated in our society. Young people grow up in an environment in which pornography is often their first (and continuing) sex educator, presenting them with endless images of impersonal, detached, and often violent sexual acts. In such images and videos, persons are reduced to objects, mere things that can be exploited and discarded. Their personal identity—that is, their being as a unique and irreplaceable individual, one with a name and face and history unlike any other—is liquidated in a parade of interchangeable acts and body parts. The viewer, of course, has no relationship with any of the participants in pornographic images or videos, cementing an expectation that sexual arousal and fulfillment need not require any real interpersonal connection or self-disclosure. In the words of Roger Scruton, “The people displayed in the pornographic film are not in relation to the viewer, nor are they displayed as being in any other relation to each other than that of each using the other’s body . . . Nor is [the viewer of pornography] really aroused except in the purely physiological sense, since there is no mutual arousal of which he is a party. Everything is cold, bleak, objective, and also cost-free and without any personal risk.” 

Interactions between live human beings are often not much better. Dating apps such as Tinder and Grindr (among several others) facilitate casual, superficial, and sometimes even anonymous sexual encounters. Again, the underlying philosophy of sex at work here is that one need not know very much about the person one has sex with, need not care about their personality or well-being (beyond securing consent), need not disclose much or express love or have any expectation of a continuing relationship. There is no better word to describe such sex than “depersonalized”—sex in which one is not really looking to connect with another person but merely uses his or her body as a site of sexual gratification. 

We could say that such a sexual milieu is “unhealthy,” and that would be true. However, at a deeper level, such an approach to sex is dis-integrating, in the sense of separating things that ought to be kept together. Depersonalized sex is disconnected sex—disconnected from friendship, disconnected from love, disconnected from responsibility for future children, disconnected from marriage, disconnected from any real concern for one’s partner beyond gaining consent, disconnected from any broader social or interpersonal responsibilities, and in a real sense, disconnected from moral integrity, at least as long as moral integrity requires us to treat other human beings as fully human persons, rather than objects that can be used and discarded. 

Of course, not all sexual encounters these days have these features. But the depersonalized approach to sex represents a default and taken-for-granted assumption in our culture, something that is accepted (and promoted) as true without much reflection or difficulty. This approach is assumed to be true in much of our entertainment and media, in higher education, and in other centers of cultural power. It’s what children and youth are taught, implicitly and explicitly, in a thousand ways. 

There are other ways that our society depersonalizes (or objectifies) sex—by claiming that our bodies are not essential parts of who we are as human persons; by denying the personhood of unborn children; by treating embryos as products to be manipulated rather than persons in development, and so on. And we probably shouldn’t be surprised that such a sexual milieu frequently draws children and minors into its orbit—a sexual morality based merely in consent is flimsy protection in a culture that sees sexual self-gratification as a personal imperative.

Still, some Latter-day Saints might feel uneasy. If we use our beliefs to influence policy or culture, aren’t we “imposing our values” on others? On this point, I note in passing that the other side of this conflict doesn’t seem to have gotten President Oaks’ memo about a cease-fire in the culture wars. The triumphalist, “right side of history” Progressive narrative continues apace, with little sign of stopping or of being magnanimous towards those who haven’t caught the vision.

But how can we articulate our views in a way that honors both those with whom we disagree and the truth? Writing here in Public Square, Robert P. George gives a number of resources that can be useful as we try to articulate our views in terms that can be accessible to those who do not already agree with us. Dan Ellsworth and Jeff Bennion have compiled an even broader set of resources geared specifically for an LDS audience. If I could recommend only one resource to understand the place of family, identity, and sexual morality in our time, it would be Carl R. Trueman’s book, The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self: Cultural Amnesia, Expressive Individualism, and the Road to Sexual Revolution (Trueman also has a more condensed version of the argument: Strange New World). Trueman argues that the sexual revolution “cannot be properly understood until it is set within the context of a much broader transformation in how society understands the nature of human selfhood.” Surveying a variety of important thinkers and intellectual trends, Trueman usefully articulates the background assumptions that inform commonly accepted assumptions about sex and gender and points toward what would need to be done to justify an alternative approach to these issues.

Of course, simply giving reasons is not enough. We must actually care about the welfare of people with whom we disagree. We should see them as collaborators in the project of seeking the truth living together peacefully. If we do not actually love others, our reasons can become simply more tools for contention carried on by other means.

“Powerful forces tell us that our defeat in the causes of marriage and human life is inevitable. They warn us that we are on the ‘wrong side of history’ . . .  But history does not have sides. It is an impersonal and contingent sequence of events, events that are determined in decisive ways by human deliberation, judgment, choice, and action. The future of marriage and of countless human lives can and will be determined by our judgments and choices—our willingness or unwillingness to bear faithful witness, our acts of courage or cowardice. Nor is history, or future generations, a judge invested with god-like powers to decide, much less dictate, who was right and who was wrong. The idea of a ‘judgment of history’ is secularism’s vain, meaningless, hopeless, and pathetic attempt to devise a substitute for the final judgment of Almighty God. History is not God. God is God. History is not our judge. God is our judge.”

The post Love, Truth, and the Culture Wars appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Oaks spoke on many topics frequently discussed in Public Square. So we wanted to share some articles if you’re interested in thinking more about the themes he presented.

Truth & Love

Holding the Tension of Truth and Love (and Where We All Get It a Little Wrong)

Agape Love for Christmas

Why Is It “Big News” That Believers Are Motivated by Love?

Comparing Allyship and Discipleship

Marriage

Tying a Stronger Knot: Overcoming Contemporary Marital Myths

Sexuality and Truth in Harmony

The Philosophical Basis of Biblical Marriage

Latter-day Saint Families: Eternal Perspectives

Children

Zero Population Growth Isn’t the Answer, My Friend

The Lesson We Need From America’s Most Fertile Religion

Sexuality

Have Progressives Really Won this Contest of Ideas?

Treasuring All That God Has Revealed

Is Sexuality Who We Are or What We Do?

Can Religious Freedom Heal the LGBT+ and Faith Divide?

Transgender Questions

Separating Fact from Fiction with Gender Identity

Every Body Matters

Identity

Our Deepening Divide Over Identity

On Symbols and Identities

The post Deep Dive on Topics from Dallin Oaks Devotional appeared first on Public Square Magazine.