Exponent II's Blog, page 111

Guest Post: “As My Mother Hath Taught Me”: A Mother’s Day Sacrament Meeting Talk

Guest post by Elena Hirst Call, who enjoys expressing creativity through cross stitching, LEGOs, writing, and music.

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

Our Heavenly Parents are united in purpose. As Sister Susa Young Gates explained, “the divine Mother, side by side with the divine Father, [has] the equal sharing of equal rights, privileges and responsibilities” (The Vision Beautiful) Because of that unity in purpose, I want to examine: “I do nothing of myself; but as my Father hath taught me” (John 8:28) from the perspective of “I do nothing of myself; but as my Mother hath taught me.”

Christ elaborates, “The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Mother do: for whatsoever things she doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. For the Mother loveth the Son, and showeth him all things that Herself doeth…” (John 5:19-20, modified)

There are many things that Christ may have learned from our Heavenly Mother. 

Sister Patricia Holland said, “in the ongoing process of creation—our creation and the creation of all that surrounds us—our heavenly parents are preparing a lovely tapestry with exquisite colors and patterns and hues” (Filling the Measure of Your Creation). Many have found textual evidence of the divine Feminine participating in the creation process, specifically identifying the spirit mentioned in Genesis 1:2 (My Search For The Divine Feminine, pg. 25) One of Christ’s main roles was the creator of worlds (Moses 2:1), a process that he was able to achieve with the guidance of our Heavenly Parents. 

Creation is frequently referred to as a feminine act, particularly considering the role that women play in childbirth. Many scriptures refer to Christ bearing the world, our sorrows, and our grief. We find “Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree” in 1 Peter (2:24), and in Isaiah, “Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows” (53:4). Christ asks us to partake of his body and blood, saying “Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you” (John 6:53). Similarly, mothers sustain babies with their own bodies in the process of breastfeeding, and medieval depictions of Christ often made that connection explicit (Feminine Images of Jesus).

The role that women have played in healing is not insignificant either. Through the early 1900s, women in the church performed healing rituals, taking an active part in blessing their communities (Rhetoric in Mormon Female Healing Rituals during the Nineteenth Century) Perhaps Christ learned how to heal our hearts and bodies from our Heavenly Mother as well. “In Jewish tradition, the tree of life was most commonly an olive tree, which makes sense given that tree’s important role in Middle Eastern culture. I have long thought it significant that we give healing blessings using consecrated olive oil, which is the fruit of the tree of life, therefore most appropriate to the task, and at least in part a symbol of our Mother’s nurturing concern for our health and well-being” (How to Worship our Mother in Heaven (without Getting Excommunicated)).

Trees are the most frequent metaphor used within the scriptures, and have a long history of association with the divine feminine. The tree of life in Lehi’s vision bore the fruit that comes from following Christ–eternal life. Elder Holland adds, “The images of Christ and the tree [are] inextricably linked” (Christ and the New Covenant). Nephi’s discussion with the angel in his own version of the vision, there is evidence that Nephi equated the tree with the virgin, and thus potentially the divine Feminine (Nephi and His Asherah). In ancient times, Asherah was seen as the wife of El, often typified as a tree (Nephi and His Asherah).

Christ may have learned wisdom from his Mother, as Wisdom was frequently used to refer to the divine Feminine. Her role as Wisdom is most defined in Proverbs. In chapter 8, Wisdom says, “All the words of my mouth are in righteousness . . . They are all plain to him that understandeth . . . Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom: I am understanding; I have strength.” Reaffirming Her role in creation, She explains she “was set up from . . .  the beginning.” That “when [God] prepared the heavens, [she] was there,” and through all of creation, she “was by him, as one brought up with him: and [she] was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him.” (Lady Wisdom).

One of the most noteworthy of Christ’s actions is his efforts to reach out to women and others on the margins. Christ describes himself as a hen with us as chicks under His wings (Matthew 23:37), as well as a mother bear protecting her cubs (Hosea 13:8). His first appearance after his resurrection was to a woman (John 20), and women were the first people to know of his birth (Luke 1). He had compassion on women who had sinned (John 8), as well as women that didn’t belong to his ethnic group, such as the woman at the well (John 4).

In being asked to be like Jesus, we’re asked to embrace all characteristics of our Heavenly Parents. Although creation and healing are often seen as feminine, Christ’s example shows that everyone benefits from the godly attributes of both genders; men and women should both learn from Heavenly Mother’s example as Christ did.

This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.

Guest Post: When I Realized I Was A Radical Feminist

Guest Post by Laura. I am a writer, teacher, wife and mother who loves to read all kinds of books. I reside in Texas with my family and a house full of pets.

I am a feminist.

If I’m being honest with myself, I suppose I have always been one, but for most of my life I wasn’t aware of this fact because I never understood the true meaning of the word. When I was growing up as a Latter Day Saint in the Bible belt, it was a loaded term, akin to calling someone a communist and conjured images of bare-breasted women burning their bras and shaking their fists at the sky. I naively assumed that my church was justified in labeling feminists public enemy number two – behind gay people and before intellectuals of course, according to Elder Packer.

I was once sitting in a Relief Society lesson listening to my fellow sisters in Christ discuss the most distressing ills of the world, and an elderly woman spat out the word as if it were a disease, something dark and apparently contagious. According to her, we should all be wary to keep our distance from these dangerous women. As far as I could tell, feminists seemed like an angry bunch, hell bent on disrupting the sacredness of the family with their radical notions. As a young mother, I had no idea what those notions were, but I assumed they had to be pretty awful for the church to spend thousands of dollars and countless hours trying to defeat the terrifying legislation they had proposed.

Then one day, I got curious and actually read the Equal Rights Amendment. If you aren’t familiar with words of the ERA, here is the text in its entirety:

Section 1: Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.
Section 2: The Congress shall have the power to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article.
Section 3: This article shall take effect 2 years after the date of ratification.

That was it.

It was underwhelming to say the least and left me a bit perplexed. I hadn’t expected human sacrifices and blood oaths, but certainly something more provocative than equality. That day, something sparked inside of me that I still cannot fully verbalize. In that moment, I realized something profound and seismic was occurring deep within my heart. I was one of them. A radical, raging feminist who – come to think of it – wouldn’t mind burning a bra or two myself. This was what my church leaders had cautioned us against? Equality under the law? It was then that I realized that my church does not view me as a fully developed person worthy of the same rights and privileges as my male counterparts. And it broke my heart.

Never again will I sit in a Sunday school class and remain quiet while others denigrate feminism. Because if you are a woman and you enjoy the right to vote, the right to equal pay, the right to wear pants, the right to attend college, the right to get a divorce, the right to own property, and open a bank account, you should thank a feminist. Your church leaders did not procure these rights for you no matter how much they laud these accomplishments today.

Instead our leaders prefer benevolent language over meaningful actions. They point out that women already have equal rights, while quietly reaffirming their stance on the ERA. They tell us that women have access to priesthood while actively denying us any real way to use it. They reassure us we don’t practice polygamy while clinging to unequal sealing practices that allow for eternal polygamy in the afterlife. They allude to a Mother in Heaven without providing any real explanation of her power and authority because doing so would call the entire system of patriarchy into question. She is an illusion, a mirage in the desert that will remain forever out of reach because truly acknowledging her will either place her as an equal co-creator with God or relegate her to a position of inferiority, a helpmeet who has no power alone and can only derive priesthood from her husband. According to our doctrine, She is no more equal to Him than I am to my husband. (See D&C 132).

Gordon B. Hinckley once stated, “Each of us has to face the matter — either the Church is true, or it is a fraud. There is no middle ground.” Likewise, I propose that the church either supports equality for women or it does not. Upon reviewing the evidence, as it stands I can only conclude that the church does not.

I am so tired of our leaders paying lip service to an egalitarianism that simply does not exist within the church. Nor can it exist as long as one sex presides over another. I have finally come to the conclusion for myself that there is no hierarchy in heaven, no people presiding over other people or practicing righteous dominion. God is not a respecter of persons. Maybe as more people continue to fight for their equal rights here on this earth, we will get closer and closer to the kind of existence I long to be a part of, the kind of world where all people’s voices and experiences are equally valued. And that is where we will truly find heaven.

Guest Post: Mormon Fundamentalist Women Know Heavenly Mother

Guest Post by Cristina Rosetti, an Assistant Professor of Humanities at Dixie State University. Her research focuses on the history and lived experience of Mormon fundamentalists in the Intermountain West.

From the time I entered Mormon spaces, I became used to hearing about Heavenly Mother. I was told about “a Mother there,” I even sang the infamous line in hymn #292. Of course, as a Roman Catholic who prays the rosary every day, I knew I had a Mother.

But, as my time in these spaces increased, I noticed that Heavenly Mother was rarely discussed in LDS meetinghouses. It was not until I began research in Mormon fundamentalist spaces that I learned more about the historic doctrinal developments around Heavenly Mother and what She means for contemporary Mormon women outside of the LDS faith.

When most people think about Mormon fundamentalism, they think of a backward tradition that harms women. To be sure, abuse happens in fundamentalism. It happens everywhere. But, in taking seriously their religious claims, I found that fundamentalist women have many of the same conversations as their LDS sisters. This includes discussions of Heavenly Mother.

Mormon fundamentalist women have a Heavenly Mother. They have more than one. And at times, they share Her priesthood. These are the three biggest things I’d like LDS women to know about the way Mormon fundamentalism views Heavenly Mother.

Heavenly Mothers have a name.

Within the Mormon fundamentalist movement, Eliza R. Snow is heralded as a poet, plural wife, and among the greatest advocates for the Adam-God doctrine. The doctrine, which is often diminished or scorned by LDS people, offers both men and women an avenue for better understanding their own divine fate. Whereas Jesus offered a tangible example of resurrection, Adam became a representation of exaltation. Eve did, too. In 1877, Snow wrote:

Obedience will the same bright garland weave,
As it has done for your great Mother, Eve,
For all her daughters on the earth, who will
All my requirements sacredly fulfill.

And what to Eve, though in her mortal life,
She’d been the first, the tenth, or fiftieth wife?
What did she care, when in her lowest state,
Whether by fools, consider’d small, or great?
‘Twas all the same with her—she prov’d her worth—
She’s now the Goddess and the Queen of Earth.

The Adam-God doctrine gave Heavenly Mother a name, one that is recalled across the Mormon fundamentalist movement. This was only expanded as leaders of the movement sought further inside into the nature of Eve’s sister wives. Among the first was Lorin C. Woolley, the early leader of the Mormon fundamentalist movement. In 1932, he began meeting with a small group to expand on doctrinal matters. The group, the Woolley School of the Prophets, became a priesthood council that hoped to retain the practice of polygamy.

On March 6, 1932, Lorin C. Woolley offered names for the wives of Adam, who Woolley understood as the Heavenly Father of this world:

Adam probably had three wives on earth before Mary, Mother of Jesus.
Eve—meaning 1 st
Phoebe “ 2 nd
Sarah “ 3 rd , probably mother of Seth. Joseph of Armenia [Arimathea], proxy husband
of Mary had one wife before Mary and four additional after.

Years later, one of Woolley’s most prominent followers expanded his ideas to say, “A Goddess came down from her mansions of glory to bring the spirits of her children down after her, in their myriads of branches and their hundreds of generations!” He further explained, “The celestial Masonry of Womanhood! The other half of the grand patriarchal economy of heavens and earth!” Powered by priesthood authority, women were part and parcel to the divine cosmos that the Mormon fundamentalist movement promoted.

They are present in hymns.

Today, the early doctrines of the Mormon fundamentalist movement are heard in hymns and Sunday School lessons. In my recent article for Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, I recounted a meeting at the Apostolic United Brethren, the largest Mormon fundamentalist religion. During the meeting, I flipped through the hymnbook and stumbled across “O My Mother”:

O my Mother, my heart longest
To again be by Thy side,
In the Home I once called heaven
In Thy Mansion up on high.

How you gave me words of counsel
Guides to aid my straying feet.
How you taught me by true example
All of Father’s laws to keep.

We didn’t sing the hymn that day, but its place in the hymnbook serves as a reminder that the doctrine of Heavenly Mother is central to Mormon cosmology. The AUB attributes this hymn to Eliza R. Snow as a companion hymn to “O My Father.” In actuality, the hymn was written by William C. Harrison and originally published as “Companion Poem to Eliza R. Snow’s ‘Invocation’” in the March 1, 1892 issue of The Juvenile Instructor. The Juvenile Instructor was an LDS publication. “O My Mother” is an LDS hymn. The hymn’s place in the magazine stands as a testament of a time when Heavenly Mother was not only talked about, but LDS hymns were written about Her.

They hold authority, and so do Their daughters.

Today, most women receive additional priesthood through the temple, usually during the Second Anointing. Joseph Musser recalled his fifth wife, Lucy O. Kmitzsch “performing ordinances,” likely the foot washing and blessing associated with the ritual. This is manifest in the same way today, with many fundamentalist women receiving the ordinance that elevates their status in the Church and prepares them for their future exaltation alongside their Heavenly Mothers.

In addition, some groups offer ordained priesthood to women. Tangibly, this manifests in women of this community being ordained as Eldress, Priestess, and High Priestess by other women in the community. On group’s ordination reads:

[name redacted], through the authority of the High Priesthood of the Holy Order of God, we lay our hands upon your head and ordain you to the office of High Priestess and confer upon you all those keys and all those rights and privileges of this office. We ordain you and we confer upon you the High Priestesshood after the Holy Order of God. We do this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

This is not to say that Mormon fundamentalism is a place where all women can find authority. Ordained priesthood for women in rare across the Restoration. But, the above problematizes what we assume about Mormonism, and certainly what we assume about Mormon women who practice polygamy.

Mormon fundamentalism is a complex religious tradition, only made more complicated by the many assumptions about it and the women who call it their spiritual home. As more is written on the fundamentalist movement, I hope that LDS women recognize the things they can learn and gain from their fundamentalist sisters.

Their doctrine of Heavenly Mothers is merely a place to start.

****

This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.

Brigham Young, April 9, 1852, Journal of Discourses, 26 vols. (London: LDS Booksellers Depot, 1846-86), 1:46.

Snow, Eliza R. “The Ultimatum of Human Life,” in Poems, Religious, Historical and Political. Also Two Articles in Prose. (Salt Lake City: The Latter-day Saints Printing and Publishing Establishment, 1877): 8-9.

Joseph W. Musser’s Book of Remembrances transcribed and edited by Bryan Buchanan, 7.

“Mother’s Day,” Truth Magazine, May 1938.

Ibid.

July 28, 1940 Joseph White Musser Journals, 1929-1944, File #17. Photocopy in author’s possession.

“1992 Collier Ordination Record.” Copy in author’s possession.

Guest Post: Mirror

Guest post by BWC. She/Her, a Montana Mormon mystic, spouse to a brain cancer survivor, and mother of five. A few of her favorite things include yoga, homemade bread, and the Green Mountains of Vermont.

I see her.
She sees me.
With eyes closed,
breathing and
centering—
I am still.
Deep inhale;
soft exhale—
Awareness.

Earthly and
connected—
acceptance.
Shadow and
woundedness—
essential.
Beauty and
holiness—
incarnate.

I am her.
She is me.
Eyes wide open:
Be—still—know—
The Mother,
The Daughter,
and Spirit.
Unity—
that, I Am.

This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.

Love Exponent? Subscribe to Our Newsletter and Get Involved!

By Lori LeVar Pierce, president of Exponent II

My daughter and I were discussing some progressive Mormon women she had met recently, and she asked me if “they were part of Exponent II” and I realized that I didn’t quite know how to respond to her question. What does it mean to be part of Exponent II?

Exponent II exists to facilitate the sharing of stories from women and other gender minorities. Is Exponent II the group of women who make all this happen or is it anyone who reads the stories that are published in the magazine or on the blog? Honestly, it doesn’t matter. We hope that everyone feels invited to consider themselves part of Exponent II. 

However, if you want to assure your place in Exponent II, there are lots of ways to be part of the group of women who make all this happen. One easy way is to subscribe to our monthly email newsletter. Click here to be added to our subscriber list. This newsletter highlights recent news from the Magazine, the Blog, and the Retreat as well as provides a way for us to highlight things being done by individuals. Subscribe and contribute to our Shoutout section.

Another way is to volunteer your time. You can create content by submitting your work to the magazine or to the blog, and there are lots of other opportunities to help more behind the scenes. Volunteers keep track of magazine subscriptions, mail shop orders, post on social media, provide snacks for the retreat, track finances, run fundraisers, read and edit written submissions, keep histories and scrapbooks, run auctions, call people to dinner at the retreat, judge contests, provide tech support, coordinate magazine printing and mailing, work with guest bloggers and so much more. If you want to spend some volunteer time with an excellent group of women, then send an email to board@exponentii.org. When we look to expand leadership on our board, we look to those currently volunteering time and talents. This may encourage some of you and may scare some of you. If it scares you, no worries. We honor the right of all women to say “yes” or “no” to opportunities if asked. If it encourages you, then all the better!

We are glad you are here and part of our community and hope that some of you will have the time and be willing to make a further investment in our mission.

Guest Post: The Weird Stuff

Guest post by Kaitlyn, a former Marine Corps intelligence officer, and a current SFF writer, with several published short stories. She moves around the world with her spouse and four children. You can find her on Twitter @KZivanovich

I don’t remember when I was first taught about Heavenly Mother. But I remember when I was taught to be ashamed of Her.

At 15 years old, I had a religious conversation with a friend. I eagerly went home to share my missionary experience. Shocked, I relayed that my friend had never heard of Heavenly Mother! So I bore my testimony of Her!

The trusted adult I shared this with deflated, put his face in his hands, and groaned. “Kaitlyn, we don’t tell them the weird stuff.”

Suddenly my testimony-sharing triumph was an embarrassment. A colossal mistake. I’d done something very wrong, something idiotically wrong. I burned with humiliation. She was real, She was a comforting doctrine, but She was the “weird stuff,” and I should’ve known better than to air our family’s weird secrets.

Worse, I’d offended Heavenly Father, who, as I was taught, intentionally kept Her a secret to protect Her from the world. I had exposed Her to ridicule and mockery. How could Heavenly Father ever trust me again?

As I grew up I realized that I knew plenty of men who treated their wives this way. They spoke for their wives, and referred to any of their pursuits as “little projects.” They praised their wives, from the pulpit, for all of their sacrifices for the family, for their unwavering support in their callings, and for “putting up with them’. Being married to a righteous man, I realized, meant sitting alone with your kids on Sundays while your husband sat on the stand and people bore testimony of his great leadership. Was this how Heavenly Mother felt? Was this how Heavenly Father intended it? To me, it was a nightmare. I kept that to myself too. We don’t talk about the weird stuff, even with each other.

I felt the feminine wound before I knew what to call it. It deepened when my Beehive advisor gently chastised me for wanting a career when I grew up. Only as a last resort, she declared. My divine purpose was to stay at home. My personal revelation would never tell me to go against the Family Proclamation.

It cut deeper when my unmarried sister expressed a desire to receive her endowments and her YSA ward bishop said no, women are prone to immodesty and without a husband, she’ll break her covenants or fail to wear her garments correctly. Her righteous desires were naive and misplaced. She shouldn’t trust her own inspiration.

My trust in priesthood leadership eroded when the stake president delayed giving my convert husband the Melchezedech priesthood after grilling him about which sexual acts we engage in as a married couple. We needed to cease all acts that could not result in pregnancy. Our Bishop intervened because this was clearly non-doctrinal. But how humiliating for my sex life to be picked apart behind closed doors by men who judged themselves to have authority over every aspect of my behavior. The wound deepened. Festered.

I’ve been YW president in two different wards. Never once was a name I prayed over and submitted for a calling, approved. My inspiration was nice, but the bishopric would rather I pray over this name instead. A bishopric counselor once threatened to fire me when I questioned a Stake youth initiative, and offered alternatives to the stake’s plan. If I couldn’t support our stake leaders, then I couldn’t be YW president, he said.

After prayerfully preparing a lesson about the Temple for my YW, the priesthood holder supervising my lesson wrote a lengthy email saying I had revealed too much. I was not to tell the YW what specific covenants we make in the Temple. I responded that I knew exactly what I covenanted not to reveal, and that wasn’t one of them. But he had the priesthood and a deeper understanding of the Temple than I did.

My male seminary student concluded that because there are only six named women in the Book of Mormon, it proved that God cares more about men. My testimony was not enough to counter the evidence in the scriptures.

And one day, the bandaids I’d put over the wound refused to hold any longer. I sat in the temple that day, on the left side of the room, separate from the men who make covenants directly with God, while I made them through my husband. I shook beneath the veil I had to don, as a woman, while engaging in the Holy Order of Prayer. And I said, God? Is this how You want it to be? Is this really what You think of me, of women? Do You really love us so much we have to be silent to be protected? I am clearly considered “less than” here in Your holy temple, is this right? WHY?

I felt an embrace from both sides, banishing all of the fury and pain in my heart, and I heard a voice in my mind say, “Kaitlyn, you know Us better than that.”

They didn’t say, “Trust Me, someday you’ll understand.” Nor was I chastised for my lack of faith or daring to question Them. They reminded me that I had already received a witness of Them, Mother and Father both, and to trust that witness. I wasn’t wrong. God was no respecter of persons. Every soul was great in Their sight, including mine.

I first prayed to my Heavenly Mother while in labor with my fourth child. I’d been taught it was wrong to speak to Her, but I figured laboring women had a special dispensation. I prayed to Her. Through 24 hours of labor, I called on Her to attend me, and She came with the power of a hurricane. I spoke to Her. I spoke to my daughter. We three together worked a miracle.

I whispered of Her to my newborn daughter. It would be years before I spoke openly of Her, but I wouldn’t teach my children to be ashamed of the weird stuff. I wouldn’t deny them this strength, power and comfort just because outsiders might think it strange.

Could I pray to Her when I wasn’t in labor? When it had nothing to do with childbearing and rearing? Was She only able to attend to women who were fulfilling their divine role as mothers? To me, the thought made reason stare. She loved me before I had children. She must love me after. Or even if I had no children. Even if I were not a woman.

And when the guidance and direction of men failed me, I trusted my Heavenly Parents. As They’d said: I knew Them better than that. I knew Them. I knew Her. And I began to know myself.

I’m not ashamed to talk about the weird stuff. Heavenly Mother is a real, living person who loves me; not a concept to placate women or enforce their silence. She is real, and we have both the obligation and the privilege to know Her.

As long as I stay in the church I won’t be able to prevent the feminine wound inflicted by institutionalized patriarchy. Neither will my ashamed silence fix it.

I’m teaching my kids the weird stuff.

This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.

Teaching the Addiction Recovery Program to Non-Addicted Relief Society Women: Thoughts and Reflections

Last year my Relief Society presidency decided to devote a meeting every couple of months to teaching the Addiction Recovery Program (ARP) to the women. A Relief Society counselor asked me to be the teacher, and I was hesitant. I had no experience with the program myself, and I worried that a program aimed at people trying to recover from often pretty serious issues wouldn’t resonate with a room of mostly non-addicted women. And more importantly, would it encourage women, who already tend to be hard on themselves, to see their everyday mistakes and foibles as misdeeds serious enough for the deep and thorough repentance process advocated by the program?

I took a few days to look over the 12 steps (lessons), which were. 1. Honesty  2. Hope  3. Trust in God  4. Truth  5. Confession  6. Change of Heart  7. Humility  8. Seeking Forgiveness  9. Restitution and Reconciliation  10. Daily Accountability  11. Personal Revelation  12. Service. Then I asked the counselor if she was ok with me tailoring these lessons to non-addicted women, and when she said that was fine, I went ahead and agreed to do it.

I’ve now taught five of the lessons and they’ve generally gone quite well, thanks in large part to a good group of sisters who are always willing to speak up and share their thoughts. But I also think they’ve gone well because of a couple emphases unique to the ARP and some teaching strategies that have worked for me over the years. I think many of these strategies and emphases can be applicable to almost any class taught in church.

5 Successful Emphases and Strategies

Emphasizing vulnerability and honesty. The ARP begins with the premise that honesty is the first step toward changing our lives–honesty with ourselves about who we are and where we can/should make positive changes. In that spirit, I try to model vulnerability and honesty in every lesson, both in the sense of talking openly about my own life, mistakes, and regrets, and also in the sense of being open about some struggles/questions I have with certain doctrinal concepts emphasized in the ARP manual.

Take the topic of submission to God, for instance, which was emphasized in step 3. (I deeply dislike the notion of submission. If I’m to become a good and ethical person, I want to do it because that’s the kind of person I want to be, not because I’m bowing down to God’s will.) During step 3, I talked about how the concept of submission didn’t resonate with me at all, how I prefer other frameworks like ones of progress and process, and I asked the women how they felt about submission. I loved the ways that the women were able to share their takes on submission, including ones that felt liberating to them as they faced the most awful moments of their lives and just handed the situation over to God.

2. Emphasizing change. The ARP is all about creating lasting change in one’s life. That is fundamentally an inspiring and hopeful emphasis. The idea of change for the better is one that can resonate with almost anyone. Who doesn’t have regrets? Who doesn’t see places in their lives where they can improve? I’ll take that emphasis of personal growth over obedience-focused topics like tithing any day.

Removing the lessons from a sin framework. Well, maybe I didn’t totally remove it. If women wanted to think about issues in their lives in a sin framework, I didn’t stop them. (And sometimes, I’m sure, sin frameworks are appropriate, particularly in cases of cruelty, racism, etc.) But I definitely and deliberately expanded the conversation beyond sin and repentance. I feel like Mormon women too often dwell on their mistakes and feel way more guilt and shame than they need to. By expanding our discussions to challenges/problems/difficult circumstances and our power to address those, we were able to broaden our discussions away from sin or addiction and towards issues women face every day – depression, feeling stuck, anger at our kids, troubled relationships, etc.

The step 5 lesson on confession posed one of my biggest challenges as I tried to steer us beyond notions of sin, given that the main takeaway of the lesson was that we need to confess our sins to God, bishop, and wronged person. So I asked the women to think of the notion of confession not only in terms of sin, but also in terms of speaking honestly about the truth of our lives to others. The women were able to have a great discussion about why we aren’t more vulnerable with one another, why we pretend things are ok when they are not, and the power of opening up to another person.

Quoting women. The lessons in the manual greatly prioritize the voices of male leaders and male-voiced scriptures over the voices of women. So in every lesson I deliberately quote Chieko Okazaki (I have 7 of her books) or some other wise woman, often from a different tradition. During step 2 which focused on hope, I led the women through a womanist reading of the Hagar story, and the women loved learning about how Delores Williams and other Black women see in Hagar their own stories of exploitation, abuse, and ultimately, hope in a God who sees them.Giving the class something new. People love hearing something new. They get tired of the same questions, the same points, over and over again. So bringing in new frameworks or ways to think about morals or ethics can be really engaging.

For example, during step 3, the manual suggests that the serenity prayer can be helpful as we learn to trust God: “God, grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” I read that prayer to the women and said that there’s no doubt a lot of wisdom in that prayer, but I then I offered them a different perspective, that of Sharon Welch who wrote A Feminist Ethic of Risk. She pushes back on the serenity prayer, saying, “The drive of moral life is that we can never know the difference between that which we can change and that which we cannot. Our challenge is to move creatively in a very different sort of adventure, one whose prayer is more like, ‘What improbable task, with which unpredictable results, shall we undertake today?’” The class seemed to enjoy this different perspective and weighing out the merits of both approaches.

This probably goes without saying, but I also recommend avoiding the questions in the manual. Not that they are necessarily bad. But manual questions, even in new programs, classes, and manuals, tend to be ones people have heard a dozen or more times in previous classes. Coming up with new open-ended questions, based either on experience or reflection, has always worked best for me.

 

Teaching matters. When a lesson goes poorly, when questions are uninspired, answers are rote, and class members perform the same old script, I leave church utterly uninspired and deflated. But when a lesson goes well, when people grapple with new ideas, weigh out competing goods, and speak openly about the truth of their lives, a church class can be magical. My most moving memories of church all involve lessons in which a teacher created a place safe enough for women to be open, vulnerable, and brave as they shared their experiences, insights, and struggles. May we all have more of those magical class moments. May we all have teachers who do their best to foster safe, open, and invigorating discussions. That – for me – is the best of what Sunday church can offer.

Guest Post: Seeking the Mother, Reclaiming the Father

Guest post by Katy Stovall, a lover of nature, baking, reading, and learning. She lives in upstate NY with her amazing husband, two lovely stepchildren, busy twin toddlers, and a neurotic rescue dog. 

Image used with permission of the artist, Lovetta Reyes-Cairo

I was a child when I first heard of Heavenly Mother, learning about the doctrine from my mother. I kept this knowledge in the back of my mind, sensing its significance but not seeing any application of it in my church. The doctrine became more important to me as I grew older—it offered some hope of peace in the face of unspoken, even unrecognized, insecurities I felt about my role and worth as a woman. Naturally, there were the obvious questions: Why don’t we talk about Her? Why doesn’t She speak to Her children? What role does She play in our theology? There were no answers to these inquiries, just speculation mingled with patriarchy.

At times my unanswered questions regarding Heavenly Mother would irk me and I would ruminate on them. I reasoned that if we were commanded to cleave to our spouse and become as one flesh, then our Heavenly Parents must be so perfectly unified that they would have been side by side in everything. I wondered why we don’t include Her in our prayers, but I accepted the explanation that we followed Christ’s example in praying to God the Father. I determine that Heavenly Mother would not be so egotistical as to be diminished by the fact that we speak almost exclusively of and to Heavenly Father. Eventually, it struck me that, though God may not really care what pronoun is used, surely it would make a substantial difference to God’s children if we were to more frequently acknowledge the face of women in God. It troubled me, but I was able to put it on the proverbial shelf. Although the doctrine of Heavenly Mother was something I kept returning to, my desire to understand more was really just a burning ember. As long as it remained so it posed little threat to my understanding of God.

My small ember found the fuel it needed to ignite into flames during the infancy of my twin sons. I marveled at their dependency on my husband and me, in awe of my body’s ability to house and then feed them, humbled by the power I uniquely had to soothe them. My thoughts frequently turned to my own mother, imagining what she felt as she held me, the last of her seven children. I thought of my grandmothers, their mothers, and all other mothers that came before me. And I also thought of Mother God, the questions that I once asked becoming weightier as my bond with my babies grew and highlighted Her absence. Why, with so much emphasis on earthly motherhood, has the church had so little to say about Heavenly Mother? All my life I had been encouraged to seek God the Father, but never once was it suggested that I might desire to seek God the Mother even though it was supposedly my divine destiny to become like Her. Everyone else, it seemed to me, was unbothered by Her absence. I felt erased by the theology of my church.

Concurrently it was becoming more and more difficult to say personal prayers. I would stumble over the very beginning. “Dear Heavenly Father,” I would start, hesitate, then fume. I was exhausted with newborn twins, so I didn’t question why prayer was becoming so challenging. There was a growing chasm between God and me, a disconnect that I didn’t know how to fix. I wanted to pray for help, but every time I would begin I would recall instructions to not direct prayers to Heavenly Mother and I would get stuck wondering why. How could this comport with a belief in a loving Heavenly Father, one who would deny His children access to their Mother? I could no longer approach that God in prayer. My image of God was consumed by the flame now burning in me.

It surprised me how much patriarchal ideas had persisted in my understanding of Heavenly Father, as I didn’t actually believe any of them on an intellectual level. My anger, then, was not really with God, as I no longer believed that Heavenly Father was the power keeping the Divine Feminine shrouded. Yet I still had to sift out these ideas that led me to think of God as punitive, egotistical, and sexist. Of course, these traits were completely inconsistent with my own personal experiences with God, and I never would have used those words to describe Heavenly Father. Yet I found there was a part of me that feared God would act in those ways.

As I struggled to connect with God the Father, I was seeking more for God the Mother. I reflected on times I had felt God’s love and found myself trying to retroactively insert some impression of Heavenly Mother into those experiences, but I knew that was disingenuous. It pained me to suddenly feel disappointed by some of my most impactful spiritual experiences. This time I did pray to Heavenly Father and told Him as much. “Were you not loved and cared for?” was the gentle response. I was, I knew I couldn’t deny it. Though I couldn’t go back and give my younger self the cognizance of a Mother’s love in those moments, it didn’t mean that Her love hadn’t always been entwined with the Father’s. I could rest in the peace those experiences gave me.

“Not my idea of God, but God” stated C.S Lewis in A Grief Observed. Letting go of the patriarchal image of God, I try to be careful not to create God in my own image. But truthfully, we all do that to an extent. God speaks to us “after the manner of [our] language” (D&C 1:24) so how could we not? I’m less concerned now with uncovering the true image of God and working to be open to God however They speak to me, allowing God to be expansive. I endeavor to seek the Mother and reclaim the Father. Sometimes I imagine the Father-figure I once held to, sometimes the image is maternal. I envision Them as if They were heaven and earth, the one lifting my vision up, the other grounding me, and both inspiring love, curiosity, and awe. And now, in my prayers, I address Them both.

This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.

Guest Post: A Matriarchal Blessing

Guest post by Erin J. Kahn, who is a writer and printmaker based in New York City. Among other things, she’s currently working on a book about finding Heavenly Mother in the gospel.

“Bless me, even me also, o my father… Hast thou not reserved a blessing for me?” – Esau, Genesis 27:34-36

Have you a blessing reserved for me
Borne by women’s knotted hands
Pouring a bath from stove-warmed water
Massaging a daughter’s tired shoulders

An ordinance of cakes and candles
Like white wind-lingering linen
A heritage of temple trees
Engraved with women’s wisdom

A blessing from bright Heaven’s Queen
Conferred by Eve in Ondi-Ahman
Or whispered by laughing Sarah
Beside her treasure’s cradle

I seek a power elemental
An earth-veiled priestesshood
Bestow on me also, Mother
A matriarchal blessing

I never sold my birthright
But I knocked and was denied
A thief crept into the temple
And stole my Mother’s blessing

Bless me also, o my Mother
I cry like a child alone in the night
She holds her hands above my head
And weeps

***

This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.

Meditations on the Feminine Divine

I participated in a guided meditation session with a group of women. We sat in a circle, listening to music. We had our arms relaxed and our index fingers pointing up, in invitation for a connection with deity. My previous experiences with meditation had left me feeling like I was doing it all wrong: I could never sync my breathing with the guide, and trying to think of nothing felt stressful, not relaxing! This time I decided I didn’t have to follow the directions if I didn’t want to, and I opened myself up to wherever the experience took me. Some images rose to the surface of my mind, and I explored the shape of them.

With my index fingers pointed up, I envisioned the divine feminine reaching down as pea tendrils, curling around each finger. I very much wanted her to pull me up, to fly me around magically like at the end of a Miazaki film. I wanted to fly to her rounded leaves and be cradled in them, swaddled with her love. But her pulling me up would require a painful tug that would pop my arm sockets, so that wasn’t quite the right image.

Then I imagined her coming down to my level. It felt suffocating to have vines and leaves all around me. I couldn’t see anything else, and I couldn’t grow. Besides, plants grow up, not down. So that wasn’t right either.

Then I imagined branches of the pea shoots growing sideways, with tendrils wrapped around the fingers of each person in the circle. We were bound together, collectively bundled into a new creation. That felt right. And beautiful. And unifying. I liked how we were each supports for those curling pea tendrils and I liked how she wrapped herself around us right where we were.

I felt that the pea tendrils weren’t just reaching for my finger, but that they wanted to hold my hand. I felt that God wanted to sit with me right where I was, not to pull me up or push me down, but to simply be with me in that moment. I opened my hands and pictured sitting there with Her, holding hands and feeling loved.

***

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

~from Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese”

***

Near the river, a pair of Canada geese returned to their nest at the top of a ten foot tall stump. I sat, watching the mother goose incubating her eggs. She sat, just being there for her children. They couldn’t see her. They may not comprehend her life-giving presence. She cannot join them, and she cannot rush their readiness to join her. Her stillness is not laziness. Her inactivity is purposeful work. In not-doing she is productive.

***

I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.

~from Mary Oliver’s “The Summer Day”

***

At the science festival my five-year-old made a necklace out of a tiny Ziploc bag threaded onto a length of yarn. She put a bean and a damp cotton ball inside. She watered her bean daily and proudly wore her necklace to kindergarten. Day by day we both marveled, observing the usually-hidden miracle of germination. I wrote:

***

they are this notable thing,
this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again,
full of gorgeous life.

~from Mary Oliver’s “Starlings in Winter”

***

This post is part of a series, Contemplating Heavenly Mother. Find more from this series here.