A big gay Mormon wedding

The Church of Latter-day Saints has pumped millions into Proposition 8 to ban gay marriage. But for one devout family, the politics are personal.

By Jeanne Carstensen

Read more: Religion, California, Gay Rights, Gay Marriage, Christianity, 2008 election, Life, Jeanne Carstensen

Photo by Tommy Wu

Brian Dietrich and Jay Redd after their civil wedding ceremony at San Francisco City Hall.

Oct. 31, 2008 | "Love each other, be selfless, negotiate," George E. Redd III said to his son Jay on his wedding day recently. Gazing at his 36-year-old son standing next to his beloved, in the Swedenborgian Church in San Francisco, Redd III quoted Paul, Ringo, John and George: "All you need is love, love is all you need."

It was hanky time inside the chapel, a cozy wooden Arts and Crafts building that could have been airlifted in from a village in Scandinavia, or perhaps the Shire. There's nothing like the father blessing the son at a wedding, with Irish folk musicians strumming in the background, to get the tear ducts flowing. Especially when the son's gorgeous spouse is another man.

A few weeks after the wedding, Jay, a movie director based in Los Angeles and San Francisco, told me that his father's Beatles reference had taken him totally by surprise. "When Dad said, 'And to quote the great Western philosophers,' I thought for sure he was going to read from Scripture," Jay said. But to his great relief, the advice his father doled out came from John Lennon and not John the Baptist. After all the pain Jay had endured, wondering whether his devout Mormon father would even attend his wedding, those Liverpool lyrics were music to his ears.

While same-sex weddings are daily events in California these days, especially since the California Supreme Court legalized gay marriage earlier this year, it's easy to overlook the fact that it's still a strained personal issue inside many families. With Proposition 8 on the ballot this Tuesday, which would amend the California Constitution to ban gay marriage (effectively overriding the recent Supreme Court ruling), the strain has taken on a renewed political intensity.

The Yes on 8 campaign has become a national conservative cause, with churches from around the country, led by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, pumping millions into the Golden State in support of the measure. If it passes, Proposition 8 would throw Jay's marriage, as well those of the approximately 12,000 other same-sex couples who have married in the state since June, into legal limbo. As of Thursday night, polls showed the measure to be in a statistical dead heat.

But the story of Jay and George Redd shows that blood is often thicker than holy water. And as much as the Mormon church, or any church hierarchy, seeks to dictate how people live their lives, the heart won't be so easily chained.

Jay's parents are reverent Mormons from Utah and have long been challenged by his sexual orientation. According to Jay, they never stopped loving him, and have invited his same-sex partners into their home. But they never gave up wanting him to reform, to get back on "the right path" of heterosexuality. "You know what the church says," they told him. "You know what we believe, you know what God has taught us, you know what the Scripture says, you know the right thing to do."

For Jay, the right thing to do this year was marry the love of his life, Brian Dietrich. Jay met Brian, a 41-year-old psychotherapist, last year, and they immediately knew they wanted to commit to each other for the long haul. When Jay called his parents to invite them to their wedding, the line between Salt Lake City and San Francisco seemed to fizzle out. "Dear, that's nice, very nice," his mother, Marsha, said lukewarmly. "I'm not sure how your father's going to deal with this," she added. "I don't think your dad is going to come." Jay wasn't surprised exactly. But it still hurt.

When he spoke with his father directly, Jay's heart sank. "He didn't say, 'We're happy for you,'" Jay said. "Not, 'congratulations.' It wasn't passive-aggressive. It was just, 'Well, OK.'"

Jay was ripped up inside. "I respect and understand my father's position because I grew up in it," he told me. "I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt for how far he's come all these years." But he was also angry and frustrated. His father had celebrated the marriages of his sister and brother, and he longed for the same paternal blessing.

He left an urgent message on his father's voice mail: "Dad, you always told me you just want me to be happy. This makes me happy to be marrying Brian. I'm asking you to be there to support us in our happiness."

The days were ticking away to the wedding on Oct. 5; his father still hadn't returned his call.

Next page: The phone rang at 4 o'clock one morning. It was his father