Tuesday, March 27 was our second day at Pepperdine University. After sharing breakfast with Pepperdine representatives, we had time to walk through campus and talk with students. The Pepperdine campus is absolutely beautiful. It sits on a mountain in Malibu, CA. As we ate breakfast, we looked out the windows at the vast Pacific Ocean. At night, it was so beautiful to see the lights dot the mountain landscape. My eyes played tricks on me, as the night sky was indistinguishable from the gentle waves of the Pacific.

In the afternoon, we partnered with students from Pepperdine for a trip to the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles. The museum was an amazing experience. Through a variety of exhibits and interactions, we saw the effects that intolerance can have on the world. Remember Oklahoma City, September 11th, and Matthew Shepherd…these are some of the events that we re-lived through our visit to the Museum of Tolerance. At the end, many people were in tears. I truly feel that this was an important experience to share with the students and faculty of Pepperdine University.

When we returned to Pepperdine, we shared dinner and some closing remarks, then headed up to Heroes Garden. Pepperdine created the Garden in remembrance of an alumni who died on United Flight 93. Looking out into the Malibu night, and gazing out across the ocean, we sang songs of peace as the Equality Ride visit to Pepperdine came to a close. This visit was special for many of us because we built lasting new friendships with the students.

Please keep the LGBT student group at Pepperdine in your prayers. They are currently working to gain official recognition from the administration.

Following an afternoon of community gatherings in southern California, the Westbound Equality Riders rested up and prepared for our fifth school stop. We left our hotel at 6:30 on Monday morning to drive to Pepperdine University in Malibu. As we approached the campus, I reflected on this school’s choice to welcome us into more than twenty-four hours of conversation and fellowship over a period of two days. We spent significant time in Las Vegas and Long Beach reworking our four core presentations, but I had no idea what to anticipate from the presentations given by Pepperdine faculty and staff. Nor could I directly translate our experiences at MidAmerica Nazarene, the only other welcoming campus so far, into expectations for Pepperdine.

Listening to co-organizers Jillian Nye and Brian Murphy explain the schedule, I noticed with appreciation the many signs of active welcome: the inclusion they sought by integrating parts of our visit into existing campus activities; the good faith they exhibited in allowing us to travel their campus unescorted; the hospitality they generously extended in the form of six meals; the atmosphere deliberately set by beginning the visit with prayer, the breaking of bread together, and a sermon against homophobia. I grew full of nervous anticipation.

When we finally arrived on campus (a bit late—there’s LA traffic for you!), I was able to experience these promises of welcome lived out. As we exited the bus, we were greeted by key staff members and a host of student leaders, many of whom were also members of the LGBT community at Pepperdine. The campus was veiled in fog, everything in the distance muted. On a campus renowned for its beautiful location, I decided this weather was a disguised blessing, narrowing our awareness down to those people whom we had come to visit and freeing us from superficial distractions.

During the short prayer service, two things stood out. One: In contrast to other visits where we could not even hold hands to pray with church members, here we were invited to offer the opening prayer. Two: the emphasis Churches of Christ place on worship through vocal music carried over into a beautiful call-and-response prayer in which, without books or accompaniment, we Equality Riders could easily participate.

After a catered breakfast, we attended a sermon entitled “Why Homophobia is Not a Christian Value.” More affective than Mr. Durham’s talk was his willingness to walk to the student lounge with us afterwards, talking about language choice and points he might include in his future delivery of this speech. This genuine interest in how he could better serve the LGBT community would be valued enough ordinarily, but his interest was particularly impressive when we discovered he was supposed to be headed to his own birthday party.

Over lunch, Pepperdine administration granted us free use of a microphone and stage. We shared stories, video and poetry about our experiences. Several key staff members were not only present and observing, but reactive to our informal presentations. With some trepidation, we returned to the chapel for a presentation on “What Does the Bible Say About Homosexuality?” given by Rick Marrs, Associate Dean of Seaver College and Professor of Religion. Despite a written synopsis offering a balanced dialogue, I admit I feared a one-sided lecture on what the Bible says to Pepperdine. I heard, instead, a brief overview of traditional and non-traditional hermeneutics across the passages most commonly used to condemn people in the LGBT community.

Although Dean Marrs did not own a preference for a single school of interpretation, he implied one through apparent complacence with church and school treatment of LGBT individuals and their relationships. Still, I felt that the clear and brisk nature of the talk inspired the kinds of questions that are useful to continuing dialogue. I would have loved to see our Progressive Theology presenters follow this conversation with a more specific response to the question of hermeneutics, particularly as this issue later resurfaced after our presentation on “In God’s Image: Identity & Scripture.”

At dinner, I found myself seated with several of the top-ranking administrators at Pepperdine. As a continuing sign of his investment in this dialogue and in us as people, Dean Baird remembered our conversation from the morning’s prayer service well enough to introduce me to the room largely by memory, even down to my score on the LSAT (a figure I wish he’d forgotten, in fact). We riders provided solid recommendations for ways to create a more inclusive campus, such as increasing the number of gender-neutral bathrooms and creating optional LGBT-friendly student housing.

We had good turnout for our final on-campus event, the presentation on how best to live out the Christian call to serve as an ally. I was thrilled that Pepperdine incorporated this talk into their Social Action and Justice Colloquium program.

Then we headed to the beach, where we met with current LGBT students to socialize and to dig deeper into life at Pepperdine. It was also a great chance to see Chuck Phelan (chairman of the board of Soulforce) and his partner Steve McIntyre, especially as Chuck and Steve had just received a postcard from me. As we relaxed together, I thought to myself, “What better way to end our sixteen hour day than with hot cider and cinnamon, a fire, the ocean, and a wonderful group of LGBT people?”

I feel very excited about tomorrow and the next few weeks at Pepperdine as this conversation continues. It is important, however, that my enthusiasm and respect for the University’s efforts thus far not be taken as a failure to challenge still further work on their part.

Like Notre Dame, Pepperdine a) earns national recognition for its academic programs, b) is religiously affiliated, and c) admits openly gay students. Unlike Notre Dame, Pepperdine treated the Soulforce Equality Ride accordingly, choosing to live up to the responsibilities entailed by all three characteristics listed above. This willingness to confront head-on the implicated issues, however, does not itself create an environment that affirms the wholeness and integrity of its LGBT members. Pepperdine’s unofficial GSA (Malibu GLEE, Gays Lesbians and Everyone Else) comprises a wonderful group of students who deserve official recognition, particularly if Pepperdine is to stand by the message I heard over and over again from some of its highest administrators: that while further dialogue may be required in this community, Christian love of gay individuals is unequivocal. If this is a starting point on which we can agree, then Pepperdine University, we are calling you to live by your words. Until LGBT individuals can freely exercise full voice and self-representation on this campus, there is division within the body of Christ.

“There might be a few more people than usual,” said Tristan, the BYU student who was walking Brian, Brandon, Jonathan and I to an apartment where other students had gathered for a weekly off-campus discussion group noted for its lively, late-night exchanges about everything from ecological building to the ethics of war. It was already after nine o’clock. The streets of Provo were dark and the sidewalk glinted under our feet, still damp from an early evening rain. Fifteen people, I was thinking, maybe twenty. These were college students after all. How many people had enough leftover energy after a full day of attending classes, writing papers, and taking care of the various social and institutional minutiae that go along with campus life to show up and listen to a handful of activists from out of town? After about six blocks, we arrived at a sweet little two story with red filigreed doors. Tristan brought us down the walk and motioned us inside. Brian stepped ahead of me into the entryway and, as I tried to decide whether or not this was a household where I needed to take off my shoes, he opened the door to the living room. Just as quickly, he closed it and bulged his eyes at the rest of us. “Oh wow,” he said.

I decided to keep the shoes on and followed him into a room absolutely crammed with students. I knew immediately what he’d meant. The six or seven chairs were occupied, often with someone perched on each arm. The walls were lined, and rows of people snaked across the floor, their legs drawn up tight so as not to bump the people in front. I stepped carefully on the few spaces of carpet between bodies, hoping I wouldn’t bang somebody in the head with my bag. At the front of the room there was flurry of motion while a couch was cleared off for us to sit on. Later, a student would tell me that there had been about seventy people in that space, and, as our conversation continued, more and more people kept showing up, inching their way in the door. When we asked if these were all BYU students, the whole room shook its head, yes.

We gave a very abbreviated version of our presentation about progressive theology, and as people began asking questions about family and the nature of the Celestial Kingdom, I felt both grateful and awed. Here we were in Provo, having been told again and again by BYU that the university was so certain that its Honor Code, which prohibits not only ‘homosexual practice’ (undefined) but also any implied or explicit advocacy or association, was solid LDS policy, that it need not be questioned, that dialogue about sexual orientation and gender identity weren’t appropriate on campus. And still the five of us Equality Riders were sitting amidst seventy students or more students who’d decided to give up a night of preparation for their classes, to give up the desire to simply be comfortable with school policy, to give up any semblance of personal space, just to talk with us.

We were all tired. We’d had a day of giving presentations at Utah Valley University, of talking with students, of attending a panel presentation of current and former BYU students at the Provo City Library. Aaron was in his second day of a debilitating cold, I was getting over an upper respiratory infection, but I am sure there is nowhere any of us would have rather been for those nearly two hours. The students asked difficult questions, and we answered from our hearts. No matter who was speaking, the feeling in the room was one of great respect and deep listening. This is a testament to the women who started this group and the way they have been facilitating it for several years, to be sure. But I think it is also a testament to the fact that when we accept each other’s right to ask questions based on personal experience with the Divine, conversations of incredible richness are possible.

That night, I learned a great deal not only about LDS Doctrine, but also about the possibilities of dissent within the church. I learned that there was already a group of students working on creating a safe space for LGBT people at their university. I learned that, regardless of BYU’s policies to the contrary, there is a great hunger among students to talk about sexual orientation and gender identity in their communities, and that these conversations can be had with deep respect for all the people involved.

When I first started the ride, I was hesitant about my role at BYU and Notre Dame. As a protestant Christian, I thought that conversations at these schools were ones that I could not be a part of. While I have learned about the LDS faith and the Catholic church in school, I have never before had the opportunity to explore these faiths so intimately. What I have found is truly beautiful.

These faiths carry so much wonderful truth about the divine and about humanity. I have met some of the most amazing people who are either Mormon or Catholic. In the days leading up to our stop at BYU, I spent considerable time talking with my fellow rider Emil Pohlig about the LDS Church and his experiences in it. I’ve also been learning more about it from our other LDS riders Mike, Matt, and Kourt.

I had been disappointed with BYU’s response to our visit and our inability to dialogue with students about these important issues. The progressive theology group was scheduled to give a shortened version of our presentation in “Ashley’s Apt”. I was the first person through the door when we arrived, and I literally opened the door, took a step inside, took a step back, closed the door, said “Oh wow” to my groupmates, and then went in (yes, seriously).

The room was about the size of 3 hotel rooms (right now that is my only standard of measure) and it was literally PACKED full of BYU students. I had to wade my way through the crowd–the entire floor was covered, people were standing around the walls, and even opening the door was difficult–that’s how full it was.

Emily, Aaron, Jonathan, Brandon, and I gave a greatly shortened version of our Progressive Theology presentation but then quickly opened it up for questions as we were meeting with a weekly discussion group (their Wednesday meeting will be all about our visit!). I don’t know why I am always so surprised to find that there are students who want to talk about these issues everywhere. Not everyone in attendance was in agreement with us; in fact, I would imagine that most were not. But that didn’t stop them from having questions, from having opinions, from wanting to learn more.

I was completely moved by these students and their faith. In my own experiences, I have seen the great families and good works of people in the Mormon Church. It breaks my heart to think that GLBT Mormons are being forced out of the LDS Church if they recognize the God-given self-worth within them. Rather than being supported in their relationships, they are abandoned. I have a place at this table because my fellow GLBT community members are being denied access to God. They are being denied access to conversations. They are told by their church that they will be denied access to the Celestial Kingdom even if they trust God in their hearts.

Matt, Mike, Emil, Kourt and I know that the Celestial Kingdom would be greatly enriched by their presence there. I have a place to talk at BYU, and later at BYU-Idaho because I know LDS individuals who are GLBT and I need to help tell their story.

Advocacy of a homosexual lifestyle (whether implied or explicit) or any behaviors that indicate homosexual conduct, including those not sexual in nature, are inappropriate and violate the Honor Code.

As demonstrated above, the Brigham Young University Honor Code is unclear in its policy toward LGBT students and their allies. What exactly is homosexual conduct and, aside from genders involved, how does homosexual conduct differ from heterosexual conduct? As a straight ally, where are the lines for me? Can I celebrate the loving relationship between two same-gender partners? Can I participate in a rally? Can I wear a rainbow, even as a small pin on my purse?

Today, unwelcomed from Brigham Young University, we headed to Utah Valley State College (UVSC), an open and safe state college not far from BYU. In their grand ballroom, we were able to host our presentations about Christianity and its role within the LGBT community as well as the LGBT community and its role within Christianity. Interested BYU and UVSC students littered the audience with attentive ears.

This evening, we headed to the Provo Library to host a panel discussion. Among the panelists were Mike (an Equality Rider and BYU alumni who identifies as a gay man), Melissa and Lauren (current BYU students who both identify as lesbians), Tristan (a current BYU student who identifies as straight) and Daniel (a BYU alumni who identifies as a gay man). They were asked heated questions: if you had the chance to change anything about BYU to make it a better place for LGBT students, what would you do and why? How have the school’s anti-LGBT policies affected your student life at BYU and, most importantly, how has this affected your own faith journey with God?

Overall, the consesus is clear: the limitations placed on students by Brigham Young University’s Honor Code restrict academic freedom and personal and spiritual growth. Unable to discuss LGBT issues (either positive or negative) and clearly distinguish expectations for all students equally, students are unable to progress personally and academically. They are unable to learn the truth about sexual and gender identity and carry their misinformation like heavy crosses into society. They take these school-implanted prejudices into the work world as teachers, counselors, social workers, doctors, parents. The seeds planted on campuses like BYU are harmful to our families, to our communities, and to society as a whole.

It is estimated that approximately 4 LGBT individuals, many of them unable to reconcile their identity with their faith, commit suicide every day.

The seeds planted at BYU blossom into the knives, pills, nooses, guns and other devices that our youth are using to destroy themselves. These are the seeds that sprout into hate, discrimination, and prejudice. Schools like BYU that openly discriminate against LGBT students by creating hostile and unsafe enivronments, are also creating the farmers who will continue to sow these seeds. This must stop. New seeds must be planted. Lives depend on it.

Seeds of love, understanding, and inclusion–seeds that recognize all people as equal and as children of God–are available to us, but too few schools are willing to plant them. As a result, at BYU and schools like it, the old seeds of hate and discrimination continue to take root and spread through our fields like dangerous weeds.

It is my desire as an Equality Rider to replant these fields and yield new crops of inclusion, love, and understanding.