The decision rolls back a 2015 rule that had ripped apart congregations by declaring that church members in same-sex marriages were apostates and subject to excommunication, and that children of same-sex couples were banned from rituals like baptisms and baby-naming ceremonies.
Now, three years after the church drove many members away, the change signals an effort to draw them back and represents a broader effort by the church’s newest president to bring the church closer to mainstream American views.
“While we still consider such a marriage to be a serious transgression, it will not be treated as apostasy for purposes of Church discipline,” the First Presidency, which is the church’s highest governing body, said in a statement Thursday. “Instead, the immoral conduct in heterosexual or homosexual relationships will be treated in the same way.”
The decision, delivered by President Dallin H. Oaks, who is a member of the First Presidency, stops short of totally reversing the church’s policy that acting on same-sex attraction is sinful. It comes as the church, which has long been known as the Mormon Church, prepares for its general conference for all members this coming weekend.
“While we cannot change the Lord’s doctrine, we want our members and our policies to be considerate of those struggling with the challenges of mortality,” the statement said. “We want to reduce the hate and contention so common today.”
Emotions among Latter-day Saints across the country were raw as the news broke. In Charlottesville, Virginia, Meredith Marshall Nelson was at her son’s violin lesson when her brother texted her the news. She began to cry in relief, and recalled how the weekend that the 2015 policy was announced was the first time in her life that she did not want to go to church.
“It felt so incongruous with the teachings of Jesus,” said Marshall Nelson, 33, who is the editor of the Mormon Women Project. “He said, ‘Let the children come unto me, and forbid them not.’”
In Rexburg, Idaho, Kristine Anderson said she and her friends were overwhelmed as the news spread. “Everyone’s freaking out,” she said. “There is anger, frustration, happiness, all of it mixed.”
“Everything just broke” in 2015, said Anderson, who has three young children. “I couldn’t get out of bed for three days. I cried and cried. I couldn’t even look at the church building, it hurt so much.”
Even though the policy is now history, she remains frustrated. “There are so many people who disagreed with the policy the whole time, and we’ve been looked at as apostates and heretics, because you are not supposed to disagree with the prophet,” she said.
Churches across the Christian tradition have long wrestled with their own policies about the religious rights of LGBT people, and the tension has grown in recent months. The United Methodist Church voted in February to strengthen its ban against gay and lesbian clergy and same-sex marriage, a decision poised to split the denomination. Roman Catholics have debated the role of homosexuality in the clergy sexual abuse scandal, ostracizing gay priests.
In Springville, Utah, Alma Loveland stopped going to church around the time that the initial policy was announced. “In the ex-Mormon world, it is always a mix of happy and angry any time the church does anything that is positive,” she said. “It is always mixed with, OK, but you caused this problem in the first place.”
It is too early to tell whether or not this reversal may be enough to assuage church members who were angered and hurt by the 2015 decision, or enough to draw back those who have left the faith altogether. But it is another sign that the church under the leadership of its newest president, Russell M. Nelson, who was elected last year, is reconsidering its relationship with the broader American culture.
The decision comes nearly six months after Nelson said he had received a revelation that the church should no longer be referred to as “Mormon,” but by its full name. Many observers saw it as a sign that the church aimed to align itself with mainstream American Christianity and not be sidelined as a marginal group.
“On the one hand, the church is trying to figure out how to keep its younger members and how to be a large church in the 21st century,” said Amanda Hendrix-Komoto, an assistant professor of history at Montana State University, who studies the church and is not a member. “But in other ways, it is also trying to retain its distinct identity.”
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.