Morality comes from God

I have heard this so many times from the Christians: you can't be good without God. And if you don't have God in your life you will become a whoring alcoholic murdering rapist because life doesn't matter; that without the almighty God you are lost. When in fact I see it completely different.

Living in fear of going to hell is not living a moral life. You are doing something because you are afraid of not receiving the reward you get for living a "good" life. You give money to a church because you are commanded to. You aid others because God commanded you to. You help the poor because God commanded you to. You help the sick because God commanded you to. But in all reality how many of the faithful do this? Look at the wars on social causes, welfare for the poor, health care for the uninsured; and the ones most fighting this are those that fall to the right and a lot of the right are very religious.

Take Mitt Romney for example. He is running for president. Has millions of dollars. Has horses worth millions. Ran Bain Capital which bought companies and "fixed" them and then sold them for a profit. Most of these companies ended up laying off most of their work force and shipping the jobs over seas. He is fighting the universal health care act. He is for cutting welfare programs and giving more money to corporations. Yet he is a practicing Christian. Claims to be working for the average person.

He probably does go to Church regularly and pays his tithing regularly, as his taxes show, but just by doing that does that make him a good Christian? If God existed would he care that he gets tax breaks worth more than my annual income just for his horses? In fact he/she/it would care: Matthew 19:24 Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

Real morality comes from doing things because they are the right thing. Helping the less fortunate is just good human nature. Helping the sick is good human nature. Just because I believe once this life is over there is nothing left does not mean I am going to be an alcoholic murdering rapist. I am going to make this life better to cherish the moments I have with those around me. I am going to make the world a better place for those that follow me. I am going to be a legacy for those around me to carry on what I have done in my life. I am making that choice because I have morals not because I am commanded to.

I am part of a family.

Tonight as I was lying in bed with my fiancee I was pouring out my feelings about my family and how most of my life I felt I was alone. I felt I had no one to turn to, that I had no where to go. Yes, I had my older sister who was always a phone call away as she had moved out of state during my teens, but I didn't really have anyone else in the family. I didn't have anyone close I could run to, cry with, or hold until the pain went away.

There were times I felt I could just disappear and they wouldn't notice or care and there actually were those times. One particular time while living at home shortly after mission while I was struggling to figure out who I was I didn't leave my room for 6 months other than to go to work. I never went out with friends. I never went out to find new restaurants. I just worked and slept. I was even to the point where I was only buying food I didn't have to refrigerate or heat up so I didn't have to interact with my family. And they left me alone as if I didn't exist. They never tried to talk to me. They never asked me how I was doing. I was left to my own demise. And that is when I knew I had to get out. I was utterly alone and no one cared. The ones that should have cared the most showed the least affection.

I was talking about this and many other situations with my fiancee as we laid in bed and I let out my emotions. I talked about how I felt like I haven't really had a family. How when I lived at home I felt more like an orphan than a son, unless I was doing what they thought was best for me. At those times the praise never stopped, but once I became me I was despised. I was cast aside as if I was a disease and I was killing them and they had to eradicate me from the house.

I think back of all things I did for them to try and gain their praise and love, but how it hurt me more inside to be something I wasn't rather than be me, but I did it to not be alone. The feeling of being alone is one of the worst. So with each new friend I would build courage. I would branch out. I would slowly become me. Certain friends helped me more than others until one day I was strong enough to finally say enough is enough and truly be me, but it was still hard not having a family. Families are supposed to be always there for you no matter what. Families don't live by ultimatums or conditions and this is why I felt I didn't truly have a family until now.

As I held my fiancee she told me that I have a family now. And I truly believe that. In the short 14 months since I first met them I have never once felt like an outsider. They took me with open arms and open hearts. They didn't care that I was an atheist. They didn't care where I had come from and what my past experiences were. They did like that I was a liberal and open about that; according to my fiancee it wouldn't have worked with her family is I was a gun-toting conservative, since that was pretty much the only deal breaker for her parents. And all but one of the six dogs have accepted me as a play mate. Can't say much for Wookie, maybe he'll warm up to me one day.

I feel I can share my experiences and my stories with them and they genuinely care. I can show up at their house after a bad day and they would take me in and listen and talk and guffaw with me over the jokes and mishaps of the day, week, month...

For once in my life I feel like I am truly part of a real family. One that doesn't judge me or hold ultimatums over my head for what I believe, but one that just loves me for who I am.

This goes out to my new family, The Crivellos

A Grieving Atheist

A little over a week ago I lost my grandfather. He was a kind and amazing man. It has been hard, as it is with anyone with death, but I wouldn't say it's harder for me than a believer. Over the past week I have had many people come to me with advice thinking it would "help" me. I have also had a lot of people coming to me thinking that through this loss I will turn back to God and they try to give me advice to help guide me back to God.

To me personally I don't see how believing in an afterlife is going to help you get over a loss. It doesn't take away the pain. To me it is just a pacifier for adults. We are meant to show our emotions and through showing them we become stronger, not suppressing them because some guy in the sky promises that you will see him again. It angers me how in religion there is only one emotion: happiness. I don't see how by believing in a God that everything is ok. It doesn't take away the pain you feel. It doesn't just lift your sorrow away. It is a way of not having to deal with the pain and the reality of death.

I don't believe in any afterlife. I don't believe that I will ever see my grandfather again, but I believe he lives on through me and others. Through the people he touched and changed for the better. I believe through showing our grief we are showing our true respect for the dear friend or relative that we have lost. That is what I see when I think back on my grandfather. Just because I will never see him again does mean that I can't celebrate him. I believe in celebrating their lives and having true grief we are glorifying those we lose. We are turning them into the legends they were. They do not have to be forgotten or put on a shelf for later. They were there to inspire us and that is what my grandfather did for me.

He taught me to see the good in people. He taught me not to judge others just because of what religion they are a part or what color of skin they have. He taught me to look into people's hearts and look at their true selves before deciding on what that person is like. He taught me hard work. He taught me how to laugh and joke. He taught me how to help others. He taught me to give of myself. He taught me how to have a good time. He taught me how to love. These are the things I will pass on of my grandfather. These are the ways he will live through me. I will become my own legend to others as Louis Pete LeDuc was to those that he touched in his life.

We can eventually be happy and makes things better, but the way to do so is through our memories of those who have passed away. Live your life better through the good things you learned from those that have touched your life.

You made me a better man, Grandpa LeDuc. I will continue your legacy.

Tribute to a Hero

Louis Pete LeDuc may not have been famous in the world. He may not have been a hero to many, but to the lives he touched he was more than a hero. His type of hero came in many names: soldier, father, son, brother, uncle, and grandfather. Which in my opinion are some of the highest honors one can have.

He was kind and gentle. He always had a smile on his face. He never turned down a chance to be with family. These are things I remember from visiting his home. It was always warm and inviting. The bowl of candy was never empty and neither were our pockets. He would always remind us to "fill our pockets!" Followed shortly by grandma yelling at us to "only take one!" Which always brought a smirk of mischief to his face and very low chuckle so that grandma could not hear or see it, but he always made sure we could see it so we knew that we really could "fill our pockets." I am always reminded by my fiance that I get my boyish attributes from my grandpa and that by meeting him she understands why I tease so much.

As kids, as all kids do, we annoyed grandma with our incessant running around or making the dog go crazy with our antics and that's when grandpa stepped in. He knew exactly how to handle us. He knew what to do to keep us busy. I think that comes from the fact that he never lost his boyish attitude about life. He was always laid back. He was the type to always take things easy. Now that doesn't mean he wasn't a hard worker, because he worked harder than most people I know. But he knew how to enjoy life at the same time.

During the summer he would take us out to his garden. Which was huge. It had all sorts of vegetables and fruits. From green peppers to tomatoes to cantaloupe to lemon cucumbers. He would teach us how to properly pick them and how to tell when they were ripe. After this he would bring us inside and serve us the delicious fruits and vegetables that he had toiled over all summer. He taught us that through the work of caring for the garden properly you can have a bounteous harvest of the best produce money can't buy, but what is purchased through hard work and sweat.

A few times after a hard afternoon of work in the garden he would take us to the movies. One such occasion sticks in my memory from when I was about five years old and he took me and my sister to Oliver and Company. Before the movie he took us to the candy store. He let us have free reign on whatever we wanted. I remember going up to him with a bag half full of candy and he told me, "now are you sure that is all you want? You're not with mom and dad you're with grandpa! Get enough to fill your pockets." I ran away excited. Other than on the holidays I had never had so much candy in one day. It was like Halloween or Christmas all over again. He then took us to the movie and bought us soda and popcorn! What a treat! I couldn't believe it and of course when we back to his house all hyped on sugar grandma was in a fit and he just smiled with that boyish grin back at her.

As the years went on we started to do more grown up things together. We would watch football together. He was probably one of the biggest BYU fans there was. (I'm sure it killed him a little inside that I was a Utes fan.) He taught me how to correctly tie a fish hook to a line and properly bait a hook; as I was starting to fish I had these questions. And he told me about how he served in World War II.

His stories were compelling. Him going on the B-24 Liberators as the top turret gunner. The danger and peril he faced every day. Kicking the bombs out if they were stuck because he was the closest to the bombing bay in the plane. Fearing for his life while having to take down others as they came at him. He said he always felt bad for having to kill people, but knew he had to do it to rid the world of the evil he was facing and fighting for freedom.

While I was living in France I was able to speak with a lot of the older people; who remembered the war. They thanked me as an American for what we had done for their freedom. I told them, "I will tell my grandfather thank you for you. He served in the great war and risked his life for you. He will appreciate this." We would always stand shaking each others hands in tears for the sincere thanks they gave him through me.

I will always remember the day I came home and told him personally of the many people that thanked me for what he did and how I told them I would tell him personally. We both started to cry. He knew people appreciated him, but he was probably never told by many that were as sincere as the people I had come in contact with.

But the one thing I will miss most about my Grandfather was his support for me. He never wavered. He didn't care about my religious beliefs. He never once made me feel that he felt any different about me in any way. He only cared about who I was inside. To him all that mattered was that you were a good person inside and he knew religion did not dictate that. He always told me to follow my dreams, to not give up, and to do what I knew was best for me in my heart. In many ways he was one of the most supportive people in my life.

This goes out to you Grandpa LeDuc. You will be missed, always loved, and never forgotten...

State of Deseret, Land of Theocracy

So just a little bit of history of where the State of Deseret comes from. Way back in the 1800s when the Mormons settled the now state of Utah, they originally wanted to name it the State of Deseret. There is even a hymn about it (I apologize for the version, it was the only one I could find):

They proposed the state name and applied for statehood and were rejected several times before finally succeeding in 1896. So as I mention State of Deseret remember I am just referring to what the Mormons would want the state to be called.

Today's blog stems from an article I read today in the Salt Lake Tribune. Would LDS Church Influence Romney if President? If you care to read the article here it is:

http://www.sltrib.com/sltrib/home2/53185712-183/church-lds-romney-hatch.html.csp

I thought about this awhile and came to the conclusion I believe the faith would influence Romney quite heavily. In the article several times it quotes Romney saying he wouldn't let the leaders of his faith sway him in any way, but then why does he want to completely get rid of gay rights? Why does he want to make it so no more people that are LGBT have their human rights taken away from them? When you think about it he did say he didn't like that he allowed pro-choice and gay civil marriages in the state of Massachusetts while he was governor for four years, because he said:

“I believe that in our state allowing the sale of alcohol on Sunday is good for the consumer and therefore I didn’t oppose it. That isn’t saying that I disagree with my church. I simply did what I thought was in the best interest of the state, which I was elected to serve.”

But that brings up another point. If he was so interested in the common will of the state of Massachusetts why is it that he is now opposed now to what the majority wants? I understand that the majority of Republicans are against women's rights and equal rights, but the national majority wants both. So why fight against it so hard? They will be left on the wrong side of history just as they were with the Women's Suffrage and Civil Rights. Which brings me back to Utah. Are our politicians really doing what the majority of the State wants? I flat out declare: NO! Not by a long shot.

Now I hear the naysayers saying this is a Mormon State, but is it really anymore? I have read several articles and seen several polls where the percentage of Mormon in the State of Deseret ranges anywhere from 53% at the lowest to 58% at the highest. Now you say there, the majority is Mormon, but I still say no it's not. I would put it more around 40% at the highest of people who are actually Mormon and go to Church 75% of the time. It would drop even lower if you only counted the staunch Mormons that go to Church every week and regularly attend the temple. Technically I am still counted in the overall Mormon percentage because I have yet to remove my name from the church records (another story for another time).

When you think of all the inactive Mormons, Jack Mormons and less active Mormons in the state do our politicians really speak for the majority? Again I say no. I am fed up, as are all the others just like me living in this state having to be controlled by a complete theocracy. Too many times I have read news articles where politicians have blatantly admitted that they were waiting for the Faith's stance on a certain law before they say whether or not they want to back it.

I am always speaking what I have to say. I write my politicians on a regular basis and I am on The Salt Lake Tribune weekly voicing my comments as LeDuc64. But alas it is to no avail. Yes we do have some democrats out there, few and far between. We do have some that really listen to the majority, John Huntsman (one of the few Mormons that doesn't really listen to the theocracy). He is responsible for changing our liquor laws so we don't have private bars anymore. Unfortunately Waddoups is trying to destroy that yet again.

So I say to these Mormons where is Agency? Where is Jesus in your politics? Did Jesus really care? Did he have anything to say? Well he did actually Mark 12:17 "Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God." The Mormons preach day and night about agency, but they don't follow it. They want to control everything they can. Which is taught to be Satan's plan.

I ask the politicians of Utah: Who are you following, Satan or Jesus?

Agency is the greatest gift of God...

Monday night, November 7th, I had the opportunity of attending Standing on Ceremony: The Gay Marriage Plays. It was a reading of 11 different short plays that were done simultaneously in 44 different theatres in America, Canada, and Australia. Before the readings they had a short live feed from New York on Broadway explaining a little about what these were about. Then the plays were read in each city. After the readings they had an open mic discussion with some of the writers in New York where you were able to send your questions to them via Twitter and they would answer them. It was a really neat experience. Most of plays were very comedic and really funny. There were a few, that I will admit, brought me to tears, they were very touching. Which got me thinking why do people fight gay rights so much? Especially the LDS faith I once attended.

All through my life I was taught and preached to about agency. Which according to the faith is the greatest gift of God. Meaning that we are free to choose how we want to live and punished accordingly. We are not forced to do anything we shouldn't because that was Satan's plan. So why do they fight so much to control that which is not what they believe? This is one of the big reasons that pushed me out of the faith. I couldn't stand the hate and fight they had with Prop 8 in California. The leaders of the faith asked members to donate their time and means to help fight Prop 8. Bishops went to homes of faithful members and personally asked them to donate money and waited for them to give them that money.

I couldn't abide by their stance anymore. I couldn't support the hate and this was when I first really stopped going to church. I felt more hate in my heart from the faith than ever before. And so I started asking questions; Why does it have to matter who you can and can't marry? Why is everyone so afraid of something that is different from themselves? Why was there so much hate in a religion that preaches love? I had to leave. The feelings I had were hurtful not only to me, but to others. And to see so many of my "friends" testify of the evils of homosexuality and to see that hate burn in their eyes turned me away. It was truly awful.

I started looking into it. I found more and more scientific evidence proving being a homosexual is not a choice and proving there is nothing unnatural about it. Many other animal species have homosexuality as well. And when you look at it, it is evolution. When you have an over population of a certain animal you will see homosexuality greatly increase. It's a way for mother nature to control populations. With 7 Billion people now on the planet it is not surprising that there are more and more homosexuals than ever before. So why shun them? Why hate them? Aren't they in a way ahead of us in an evolutionary stand point? Aren't they helping us and the planet?

Which brings me back to my original point. I believe everyone should have the right to marry who they love, LGBT or straight. We're all human. We all deserve the same basic rights. No one is better than anyone else. The hate the LDS faith and the Catholic church showed in their fight of Prop 8 is wrong. Jesus taught love everyone so why do they purposefully fight against those that are different?

That is one point that has always plagued my mind. That is one of the big issues I had with the LDS faith. They don't preach love. They don't preach harmony and temperance. And they certainly don't follow what they preach about agency. They are a faith of hate, just like every other religion I have studied. You are taught to think less of those that think different of you. You are taught that they cannot be truly happy without having the LDS gospel in their lives. The LDS faith teaches they are the one and only true church on the face of the planet. That if you are not part of this church in this life or the next you will forever be banned from heaven. That you will never live in the presence of God. I thought God was merciful, kind and forgiving. He/she/it isn't jealous, hateful, and unforgiving.

So I started to reach out. I found my own answers. I fought against them because it isn't about who you hate or you persecute or tear down that gets you to heaven, if there was a heaven (at least at that time I thought heaven may still exist). Heaven is for those that help one another. Treat others with kindness and fairness. Those that lift up one another and not tear them down. Just because someone is different does not mean that you make them feel unworthy and rejected.

So I stand with my friends and everyone else out there who is fighting the oppression. You are not alone. You have me as your ally and I will do all I can to make sure you have the right to marry who you want and to be yourself without receiving harm. You are wonderful and don't ever forget that. Keep fighting because one day we will win.

The tides are changing, slowly, but they are changing...

How am I not myself?

As I discussed in an earlier blog, I spoke as if I was suffocating my inner self. He was begging and pleading to be let out. Me repressing him and building those walls around him was hurting me more than I thought and I had to help him take down those walls within myself.

I was complacent for so long that it just became second nature to continue to pretend to be someone else; to continue to wear the mask. It was easier to pretend to be who I wasn’t just to make my family and friends happy, but it tore me up inside. I was always depressed. I felt lonely and complete emptiness even though I had all the support I needed from them.

So how and when did I realize it wasn’t worth it? How did I build up the courage to help the real me tear down the prison I had kept him in for so long? I was lost. I thought I had no one to go to. Even though my real friends were all around me rooting for me to find true happiness. I just didn’t know how to reach out to them. I was on one side of a chasm and they were on the other and there was no bridge. No visible way to cross to the other side.

I almost gave up. I almost continued to wear the mask and then one day I watched the movie I ♥ Huckabees. It opened my eyes. It explained so many questions I had about me and how to change. I connected with Jude Law’s character like he was me. He did things to keep people happy. He told stories to keep people happy. He did what he thought others wanted him to do rather than being himself. Then close to the end of the movie the line “How am I not myself?” was repeated over and over again. It was showing him he was wearing a mask. He was holding his own inner self hostage, just as I was. It hit me harder than anything else I have ever felt before. I knew I had to change things if I wanted to be happy; if I wanted to fill the void I constantly felt; to rid myself of the emptiness I felt in my life every day.

So I took steps. I started slowly. I moved to a new student ward and then never went; that way I wouldn’t be harassed by a bishop that already knew me. At first I felt guilty. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I had gone to church for so long it felt awkward, as if I was cheating, but then I heard me from the inside tell me this was right. The small window in his prison that was opened allowed him to breathe. He wasn’t completely bottled up anymore. He could finally communicate with me. He gave me encouragement. He loved the feel of the fresh air on his face. The putrescence of the hole he was in was slowly going away and he would never let me put him in there alone again.

With each step forward another brick was removed. More fresh air was let in. He gained strength. I gained strength. Each week my emptiness was slowly disappearing. My depression was going away, but that is when my family and “friends” noticed my changes. They thought I was harming myself, that I was doing irreparable damage to my soul. So they tried to “fix and save” me. For a time I went back here and there. I went back because I was scared of losing the connections I had with them. So again the bricks went up. I was slowly building the prison again. I was torturing the me inside again, but this time he fought back. He wouldn’t allow me to suffocate him again. He knew what was best for me, but what was I supposed to do? I had little, if any support. Where could I turn? Who would help me?

I felt alone again. I almost went back. And then I met the one person who gave me more support than I could have ever asked for. He was there for me. He saw me through my darkest times. He listened to me. He helped me be strong. He gave me the support I needed. He helped me build the bridge to the other side of the chasm. He was there when I needed to cry to let out the rage I felt inside. He saved me and did more for me than he will ever know. His name is Josh. I consider him my “other” (a term from the movie I ♥ Huckabees). He was there through it all. He helped me dismantle.

I owe a lot of my happiness and completeness to him. He helped me see there was another way, that I did not have to destroy myself to make others happy. I could be myself and I did not have to wear the mask anymore. I no longer had to carry on the facade. I was able to fight back. With every step I took backward I was able to take two steps forward. He pushed me forward when I was about to give up. It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, but it was worth it. The biggest obstacles always come with the greatest and most fulfilling rewards. My rewards were my happiness, my completeness, and the world’s greatest friend.

And so started my journey to be myself. I gained confidence. I was able to stand up to my “friends” and family. I eventually let them know my real stance on faith and church and god. I had more strength than ever. I still battle them to this day. I lost some fights and lost many “friends,” but I never lost the war. I still have to defend my happiness to them, but my inner self is completely free. He no longer hides behind the walls I built around him. There are no longer two Jons. He is me and we are now one.

I couldn’t be happier. I couldn’t feel more complete. Every day is fulfilling. Every day I am reminded how being me is what gets me up in the morning. I am no longer getting up to make other people happy. I am getting up to make ME happy.

Thank you Josh...