Exponent II's Blog, page 120

It’s my turn to teach a really problematic Old Testament text about women in LDS Sunday School.

My next assignment as Gospel Doctrine teacher in my Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) ward is to teach Genesis 28-33. There are women in these six chapters of Genesis; six named women: Rebekah, Rachel,  Leah, Bilhah,  Zilpah, and Dinah.  That is the same number as are named in the entire Book of Mormon: Sariah, Abish and Isabel (the harlot!) are the only named female Book of Mormon characters, and three Biblical women, Eve, Sarah and Mary, are also mentioned in its pages.

So this lesson should be a great opportunity to bring women’s stories and women’s perspectives into Sunday School. However, there are numerous issues with how these women are portrayal by the authors of this text.

This detail from a pretty tapestry from circa 1550 depicts Rachel “giving” Bilhah to Jacob (sexual slavery) Image courtesy of the Met. The women in these chapters are supporting characters revolving around the male hero of the story, Jacob. Three of them do not even have speaking parts.Two of these women are enslaved. Biblical texts have been interpreted by many Christians throughout history as divine approbation of the abominable practice of slavery.Four of these women are polygamous wives or concubines. Polygamy is a particularly painful topic for female members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) because of the polygamy experiment that took place in our own faith community in the nineteenth century and because LDS theologians continue to use Genesis as proof text to condone polygamy as part of God’s eternal plan.Two of the women act as accomplices with their husband Jacob in the sexual exploitation of two of the other women.Even higher status women are treated as commodities; they are bought and sold by men and lack autonomy to make their own choices.The two women who are most quoted in the text rarely talk about anything but men; their only goals in life (as portrayed by the authors of the text) appear to be winning a man’s romantic and sexual attention and giving birth to sons, not daughters.The authors portray the women through a sexist and unflattering lens. They appear to be bickering, petty and jealous. One of them may be a thief.If you turn the page to Genesis 34, you will read more about Dinah’s story, a character who is still a baby in the chapters that happen to be included within the lesson plan I was assigned to teach. And wow, Genesis 34. Yikes. (I pray that no one in my classroom goes there. I am not prepared for that.)

So what to do with these chapters? An easy solution is to skip all of this problematic text. I admit that I was tempted to write a lesson plan exclusively covering two bits that bookend this section: Jacob’s Ladder (cool story!) and Jacob’s Wrestle with the Lord (another cool story!) and ignore the messy middle chapters, where the women are.

In fact, we have a precedent for handling polygamy that way in LDS Sunday School. For several years, we were studying the Teachings of the Presidents of the Church. Each Teachings of the Presidents of the Church manual had an introduction with a biography of the church president highlighted in the manual. However, many of these men were polygamists. And many LDS people, including myself, are uncomfortable with and even repulsed by polygamy. So how did we handle that? Most of the Sunday School lesson biographies about polygamists skipped the part about their marriages and didn’t mention their wives at all.

[image error]This way of handling the polygamy problem erases women. The person who actually engaged in polygamy, the male spouse, is still honored and remembered. But his wives (each of whom only married one man) are erased from history because that history is uncomfortable to our modern sensibilities. Women deserve better than that.

As I was preparing this lesson plan, I recalled an excellent Twitter thread begun by Exponent co-blogger Nancy Ross in which Nancy and other smart people discuss using the Old Testament to share women’s stories. I went back to Nancy’s Twitter thread and found a helpful book recommendation: Women’s Bible Commentary by Carol A. Newsom, Sharon H. Ringe and Jacqueline E. Lapsley. I bought a copy and also found another book which was a big help to me for my lesson plan: The Matriarchs of Genesis: Seven Women, Five Views, by David J. Zucker and Moshe Reiss.

[image error]

Here is the Lesson Plan for Genesis 28-33 that I came up with. Check it out. 

 

And here is Nancy’s Twitter thread.  Read the whole thing for some great tips!

Come Follow Me: Genesis 28-33 “Surely the Lord Is in This Place”

Hot take for all of the Mos complaining about reading the OT in 2022: it has the best poetry, wildest stories, & women in many different roles, but none of that is in the curriculum, which will likely highlight the so-called “importance” of patriarchy and authority. But 1/

— Nancy Ross (@theartdoc) December 29, 2021

 

 

This Bridge Called My Back

You didn’t think I was going to stand on that corner by myself

(arms and legs like board, mouth full of cement) forever, now did you?

To Be Continued by Kate Rushin

I told my husband once, in the midst of little children and their constant, unsatisfiable needs, that I could go entire days without seeing another woman. I felt, often, like I was standing on a corner, stiff and silenced, unseen. In those days, Relief Society provided some respite, if only for a moment between dropping children off at nursery and taking the baby out for a diaper change. But then I changed. My life stopped looking the way it had, and the women who sat near me no longer wanted to understand me. In many ways, my family seemed to threaten those women I had called ‘sister.’ It isn’t that we chose not to conform: God had created us out of different cloth, and conforming wasn’t an option.

I got myself home, lit me some candles and some sandalwood,

put on some Dinah and Aretha, took myself a bath,

made myself some grits and eggs,

got on the phone and called up my Girlfriend.

To be continued by Kate rushin

When I saw I would no longer be comfortable next to those sisters, and that I made them uncomfortable, I found new friends who held space for my life. When I was bruised and weary, I found you here, in Exponent. I found you on social media and in book groups and on pilgrimages. I delighted in God’s creativity. And I expanded.

I continue to rejoice in finding new sisters. The collection of essays This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, edited by Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa, feels like coming home. Inside these pages, women share deeply personal experiences. The work being done to free our mouths involves making our hearts bare, and it’s glorious. In church, I always felt afraid of being seen as a fraud or, worse, a traitor. But with the women in this book, I feel known and loved. Some of it is hard to hear. I “feel the pull and tug of having to choose between which parts of our mothers’ heritages we want to claim and wear and which parts have served to cloak us from the knowledge of ourselves” (p.19). But they reassure me that each of us needs to do that work. By learning to lean into their voices, and figuring out how I can do better, I’ve been able to offer grace to the women who called themselves sisters, but who never cared enough to be sisterly. This is godly love: honesty and truth. With a whole lot of laughter thrown in.

Think about it. How it sound you feeling ashamed ‘cause somebody

come treating you like you was somebody’s pork chop?

Don’t worry about it. When you got something to say, say it.

Just make sure you’re talking to somebody who shows some interest.

To be continued by Kate rushin

The sisters in this book teach me to recognize the ways we are all divine even in our differences. Together, we find liminal spaces free from the patriarchal gaze, where we can put on Dinah and Aretha and remind each other what it’s like to be women, together, in our power.

Now, whenever I get uptight, I remember what she told me:

Keep moving. Keep breathing. Stop apologizing and keep on talking.

When you get scared, keep talking anyway. Tell the truth like Sojourner Truth.

Spill all the beans. Let all the cats out of all the bags.

To be continued by Kate rushin

Through this book, I’ve come to understand that “the physical realities of our lives–our skin color, the land or concrete we grew up on, our sexual longings” (p.19) work together to inform who we are, but they don’t need to separate us from each other. Even though “I am a whole circus by myself” (p. 88) I’m not alone. “[T]he exhausting camouflage with which I go thru this social space called CAPITALIST PATRIARCHY” (p. 88) isn’t mine to navigate alone. I have sisters surrounding me.

If you are what you eat, you become what you speak.

If you free your tongue, your spirit will follow.

Just keep saying it, Girl, you’ll get whole.

Say it again and again, Girl, you’ll get free…

Free your spirit, no telling what could happen.

To be continued by Kate rushin

None of us can be free until all of us are free. I won’t be comfortable in my own skin until my sisters can be safe in theirs. And isn’t this the ultimate goal of the gospel of Christ? To know as we are known, and to love as we are loved? I can’t truly know my sisters if I don’t understand how they experience life differently. I can’t love women if I don’t hear their voices. By speaking, and hearing each other speak, our spirits find each other. This is my new Relief Society, one dedicated to solidarity with all my sisters.

I have a hope, one I hold close, and it lights my heart when I feel weary and worn. I believe we will all sit together at the feast of fat things. We’ll laugh, and we’ll cry (because every good pilgrimage brings honest tears). And we’ll see each other, really see, and mourn for the pain we carried alone (or caused) while we reach our arms out to lift each others’ burdens. I think we create that Zion here, now, when we learn to hear our sisters speak hard, but true, things. When we “work to unravel the knot” (p. 19) of oppressions, some different than ours, we can all, finally, get free.

First published in 1981, This Bridge Called My Back is in its 4th edition.

Guest Post: Trusting My Body as an Antidote to Brad Wilcox and Those Like Him

Guest Post by Tina. Tina enjoys nature, art, and reading. She is nearly complete with a graduate degree in trauma informed teaching and loves asking questions to learn more about the world.

_Photo by Anete Lusina from Pexels

My phone chimed with a message from my sister-in-law, who has also become a good friend and soulmate in a journey to connect with the Divine Feminine. Her message asked if I had seen the now infamous Brad Wilcox fireside. While I had read about it, I hadn’t seen any of it. Clicking on the Insta stories link she included, I sat down on the sofa as my two YW aged daughters wandered in the room and asked what I was watching. A fireside by a counselor in the General Young Men’s presidency I responded. After about twenty seconds of the three of us watching in stunned silence, I noticed that my daughter sitting next to me was frozen like stone and her face flamed scarlet. My daughter standing next to me had pools of tears in her eyes as she tried to choke back sobs while her body shook. 

I stopped the video and immediately clarified that what he said is wrong. A physical exhale of relief followed as we mourned together that anyone, much less a church leader, would think and say such awful, hurtful things about other people’s skin color, gender, and religious beliefs. I once again reiterated that they will find harmful people in and out of the church just as they will find good people in and out of the church. This frame of mind is something we discuss often; my objective is to prepare them with tools of protection and guidance through which to navigate life. Acknowledgement of good and harmful people everywhere is one of those tools. While there is a desire to bubble wrap them, I know that is not helpful nor possible. 

One new tool suddenly came out of my mouth during this conversation. I told them they can trust their bodies. No matter if they are at home, church, school, work, with friends, anywhere they are, they can trust their bodies. I pointed out to each of them the physical response I noticed as we watched Brad Wilcox speak. Their bodies will let them know if something they hear or are taught is wrong. One daughter expressed that she felt awful about what he said but didn’t know how to explain why what he said is wrong until I explained it. I pointed out to her that this is why we can listen to our bodies. Our bodies know even if our minds can’t explain with words. She nodded, happy to have another tool of protection. 

As I spoke to them, I realized how important it is for me to teach my daughters this concept of trusting their bodies. Girls and women in society are taught to disassociate from their bodies in the methods and by whom their bodies are portrayed and discussed. This disconnection is amplified in the church in a variety of ways such as only seeing males ordained, through modesty guidelines written by men, to temple garments designed primarily for men and approved by men. A number of resources I had read and digested over the past several months gave me what I needed at that moment that I needed to teach my daughters. I am sharing here because the image of girls and women everywhere claiming their power through a connection with their bodies fills me with an energy to stand up and shout with excitement! 

Doing my own work in relation to my body, especially the impact of religious teachings, has been vital. I wrote about that here. The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk. I read this a number of years ago. This summer a friend organized a zoom book club with a few other friends to read this. It was the perfect time for me to re-read it because I had to read excerpts of it anyway for an Arts and Movement for Trauma class I took last summer as part of a graduate degree program. I remembered there is a reason why I bookmarked about every other page in this book. More Than a Body by Lexie and Lindsay Kite. Can these two women be hired by the church to create curriculum for young women? (They do have an online course for individuals.) How amazing would that be to have two women with PhDs teaching our young women. Their knowledge is invaluable. Yoga. Yes, yoga. If I am too anxious to be able to do yoga, that is a red flag that I am disconnecting from my body. The Heroine’s Journey by Maureen Murdock. While I haven’t made it past the first chapter of this book, the Table of Contents lists a section in chapter seven called Body/Spirit Split. I am looking forward to reading it. This podcast episode: Breaking Down Patriarchy and Sacred Rage – with Cherie Burton. Few things leave me speechless like this. 

The one hope I have from the horror of the words spoken at that fireside is that there are many, many people who will not swallow and absorb harm any longer. Several writers at the Exponent II eloquently and thoughtfully addressed various problematic aspects of Brad Wilcox’s words. You can read them here, here, here, and, indirectly but still importantly, here. In person, I am happy to have an ally in my sister-in-law. Together, both online and in-person, let’s use our bodies – our voices to speak, our hands to write, our feet to walk out of the room when harmful things are said, and our minds to reclaim our personal authority.

Fight/Flight/Freeze/Fawn: Stress Responses to Sexist Comments

When was the last time you experienced a sexist comment? Maybe you were the only woman in a meeting and were asked to take notes. Maybe, when asked by the ward’s young women why the boys get to go camping, the bishop replies that “women’s bodies are too complicated”. Maybe your father-in-law accuses you of emasculating his son by making more money. Maybe your daughter’s teacher told her she was smart, “for a girl.” 

The question is not “if” but “when;” and I would also ask, what was your reaction? 

In the spring of 2020 the Utah Women & Leadership Project conducted an online survey where participants could rate their perceptions of sexism in Utah and share up to four sexist comments they had heard, and any response they may have made (or wish they made) to the commenter.  Over 1000 women responded and I was one of the researchers who got to go in and categorize the comments. Thus far we have three research briefs and Susan Madsen, Robbyn Scribner and I did two podcasts about the results, which you can listen to here and here. 

I am currently in a masters program in Marriage and Family Therapy and decided to use a therapeutic lens to see how the responses to sexism align with the body’s acute stress reactions: fight, flight, freeze, fawn (let’s be clear–sexist comments can feel as much like an assault as getting slapped). Fight or flight is an engrained survival instinct. When our ancient ancestors faced a dangerous threat, our amygdala sent signals that got the sympathetic nervous system to crank out stress hormones that either get you amped up to take on your opponent, or run like hell. And our bodies still do this, whether we’re facing a physical threat or a psychological one. These two responses rely on either strength or speed.

But what if you are neither strong nor fast? 

In recent years most of us have become aware of the freeze reaction. If your lizard brain says you cannot avoid a threat, then sometimes our bodies shut down and we just suffer through the threat, perhaps using dissociation or other forms of internal distancing to get through the trauma. It’s like a possum “playing dead.” Culturally women are often criticized for this response to physical aggression. “Why didn’t she run away” or “she didn’t even put up a struggle,” are the clueless commentary we hear when a woman freezes in the face of a threat. But these responses aren’t even conscious. We don’t “choose” how we will react. Our instincts and bodies do what they think most likely to keep us alive. 

I had not heard about the “fawn” response until a few years ago when our blogger Cruelest Month gave a presentation on mean girls at a conference, and expanded the “three Fs” to four, by adding fawn. In this instance, your gut tells you that your best bet for safety is to seek an alliance with the threat. Sort of a Stockholm lite, here you flatter, “fawn,” and try to placate the abuser. Habitual fawners have learned to create a form of safety by avoiding all conflict. Often they adapted to this stress response as a result of growing up in an abusive home, where accomodation was essential to survival. But in daily life, many of us “fawn” in response to sexism and aggression (micro & otherwise) by smiling, laughing, superficially agreeing, anything to just placate the perpetrator, who usually is in the power position, to get back to safety or get away. 

In my own experience, I have relied on all four, but in times when I felt really vulnerable, emotionally or physically, my responses tend towards freeze and fawn. 

Because nobody wants to read a 50 page post, I pulled a sampling of responses that seemed to best fit into these categories. 

Fight. The examples chosen do not reflect physical fighting, but show women responding by pushing back in some way that makes it clear they object to the situation. It’s hard to tell when they are responding from a place of calm, and when they are filled with adrenaline and channeling their “I-will-kick-your-saber-tooth-butt” warrior. Because sometimes we can be on fire on the inside yet deliver a retort with an icy precision. Either way, they are going toe to toe. 

Comment: When I was in grad school I was advised that I should be careful, “Not to educate myself out of marriageability.”

Response: I said that if someone did not want to marry me because I was more educated than they were, that was just as well, because I didn’t want to marry anyone who felt that way.

Comment: This person said we should not discuss Mother in Heaven because false doctrine has been taught about her.

Response: I told this person we should not discuss Father in Heaven because false doctrine is taught about him every day.

Comment: When I was given a promotion (not only because I’m great at what I do, but also I was literally the only person in-house with the qualifications for the job) another Jr. manager at the time said, “well maybe I should start wearing flashy clothes and batting my eyelashes at everyone too…I’d love a promotion of my own…apparently they’re giving them away.”  It was said in one of those “pretending” it’s a joke but everyone knows it’s not a joke kind of ways…you know the kind that is always followed up with an insincere “I’m just kidding” shortly after.

Response: My response was calm and sincere when I said “You know (name), my guess is that if you took the time to reflect on why you feel the need to put down exceptionally qualified, recently promoted co-workers, you might actually figure out what’s holding you back from getting a promotion of your own. You are a very talented and hardworking individual, so if you focus your efforts on a little self reflection instead of trash talking others, I have no doubt you can figure out what the road block is and achieve whatever you set your mind to…I’ll give you a hint though it has nothing to do with flashy clothes and long lashes. And another thing too, once you have decided to treat yourself and your co-workers with adequate respect and professionalism, feel free to stop by my office. I’ll even help you prepare your case for a promotion.

Comment: When I held an Executive Director position in Utah state government, a male, married, elected official from a different branch of government asked me if I would go on a ride with him in his fancy sports car.  He followed the invitation with the statement, “You know, anyone who rides in the passenger seat of my car goes topless.”

Response: I looked down into his eyes and said, “Great.  Hand me the keys and take off your shirt.”  He was completely speechless as I walked away.

Comment: A comment I get, as a BYU professor, about once a year, always from young male students: “Do you think you really should be here teaching full time, knowing you’re taking a job away from a breadwinner?”

Response: Because I get this comment so often from my students, I’ve developed a range of replies. Sometimes I explain that I am the breadwinner for my family. Sometimes I ask them if they feel that God would rather have me sitting at home watching TV. Sometimes I remind them that I competed against male faculty for my job and outperformed them.

Flight. Similar to fight, the flight instances were more psychological than physical threats, but the body’s response is the same: panic and exit. Again, it can be hard to decipher when someone leaves a situation because it’s an attempt to protect themself, or if it’s a rational decision to walk away. And sometimes the “flight” is changing the subject or mentally checking out. Either way the point is to get away fast. 

Comment: My husband and I were purchasing a new car.  I currently am a part-time homemaker and part-time student working towards my Paralegal Certification.  The salesman that was working with us constantly referred to my husband when he was explaining the features of the car and asking questions about the type of car we wanted.  The salesman then started to refer to my husband as “Boss”.  Such as, “whatever you want, Boss.”  “Okay, Boss.”  The salesman kept mispronouncing my name or would not even acknowledge I was there.

Response: I was so fed up I just wanted to get the purchase done and get home.  I did not let the dealership know of my displeasure.

Comment: While talking to another man with power in the workplace kitchen, “It’s a shame we have so many female applicants, women would be so much happier if they focused on being mothers”

Response: I did not make a comment as this was something I overheard. I left immediately after hearing it (the vicinity where it was said, not the workplace itself).

Comment: Cat calls from construction workers while walking in my neighborhood. “Hey babe”. Whistles “bitch”

Response: “Excuse me?” And I just kept walking to get away from them.

This was my favorite “flight” because once she rebounded from her trauma response, she gives him a dressing down that the Dowager Countess would be proud of.

Comment: A male superior yelled at me publicly after overhearing a private conversation I was having with a colleague. The comment started with “You damn liberals want to have it both ways,” and went on from there. It was less the specific content of the comment, and more the fact that he thought it was appropriate to behave that way toward me.

Response: I removed myself from the situation at the moment. But a couple of days later, I scheduled a meeting with him during which I told him that I found his behavior incredibly inappropriate and unprofessional, and suggested that he wouldn’t have behaved that way if I wasn’t a woman and a subordinate. I advised that I would not allow him to speak to me that way ever again, and that if anything like that were to occur in the future, I would not hesitate to escalate the situation and see that he was appropriately punished for his unacceptable behavior.

 

Freeze. We all know this one. Sometimes when faced with obnoxious comments, we are too stunned to do anything. We can’t think of a comeback. We can’t march out the door. We just sit there and take it, unable to respond. If you freeze, it’s not because you are a pushover. It is your brain and body trying to protect you from an unexpected assault, whether verbal or physical. 

Comment: My boss, in our employee lunchroom is playing a game of ping pong with other employees and about 50-60 people were around watching the match. I came down with my coworker that I’m friends with. He stops playing and points at me and says “Go grab me a coke. Oh and a napkin.”

Response: I froze…. was super embarrassed and didn’t know what to do. I highly disliked him, and most of the employees there didn’t like him either. We all knew how inappropriate he was and it was hard because he was also the HR Director.  I didn’t know how to respond.

Comment: When I was around 20 years old, while working at a hotel I was giving out tickets for drinks at a reception. A guy who purchased tickets from me said “You’d look good under me”. 

Response: I was young, at work, shocked, and didn’t know how to respond.  While in that moment when you hear something you know is not appropriate you have to be really quick to respond back which I think is hard. Or, you are shocked and don’t know how to respond and later wish you had.

Comment: A man explained to me (his supervisor) that he was going to “allow me” to do a portion of my job because despite the fact that I am not qualified, he prayed about it and God told him to “give me a chance.”  This was despite the fact that I was the supervisor and he couldn’t allow or disallow me to do anything.

Response: The only other person in the room was so shocked, she felt it difficult to contribute to the rest of the meeting.  She explained later that she felt unsafe saying anything at all, since she has to work with the man and she is only part-time staff.

Comment: I went to my male boss at an ad agency to let him know a male coworker had steamrolled me on a project (he stole all my ideas, refashioned them as his own, took out several of my favorites, and presented them to the boss). I knew there was some sexist lack of respect underlying this action by my coworker. Instead of showing care or understanding, my boss said “You know, maybe this is why there aren’t more girls in advertising. It’s really hard and really competitive.” (I was in my 30s, for reference, when he used the term “girl,” which made it even worse.)

Response: I was stunned and froze–I didn’t know what I’d expected from my boss, but this was worse than what I could have imagined. Soon after, I found a new job at another ad agency and resigned.

Comment: Your peer will be representing the study you did because it will look better coming from a man.

Response: I wish I knew what to say or what to do.

But even if we freeze in the moment, we can often take action when our window of tolerance has widened. Here’s a great example: 

Comment: “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, I’ve got this.”

Response: I was too stunned to say anything. Later, I called his boss and had him removed from the account. It had been a continuous issue.

 

Fawn: This is such a hard response, because we not only “fail” to protect ourselves in the moment, we appear to be unbothered or agree with the assault. This can leave us feeling shameful and complicit, and you can read how so many of the women, after the fact, have regrets and wish they’d handled it differently. But so often there is a power differential, where you do not feel you can fight back and that the fastest way to get safe again is to comply, with a nod, a laugh, or affirmation. It’s not your fault. Your lizard brain is trying to keep you safe in the presence of a threat, like saying, “Nice doggy” when a pitbull is growling at you.  

Comment: “I am so glad you wore regular pants today. Your other pants are highly distracting.” The workplace had originally allowed members of certain departments to wear casual clothes which included yoga pants so long as the shirt/dress covered everything. The peer came into my office and shut the door to say this to me, making it feel extremely uncomfortable.

Response: I was extremely uncomfortable and nervously laughed. I never told any management about it as I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I didn’t figure anyone would take it seriously anyway.

Comment: I was running for office and approached a man running for a partnership office (Chair, Vice Chair). He asked me a question about my stance and about five words into my response, he cut me off and started talking over me. When I tried to extend my hand, he embraced me in a hug and said, “I’m a hugger.” Very unprofessional, especially since we didn’t know each other.

Response: I wasn’t comfortable pulling away from him and making a scene, so I let him hug me. 

Comment: “Look at this photo of you. You look so hot in it.” This was brought up during a meeting with third party partners who were presenting the product that they wanted the company to integrate with. The person was my boss, and they said it in front of said third party partners and a Vice President level member of the company. He said it in a loud whisper while presenting a photo from my personal profile to me.

Response: I nervously laughed as he was my authority figure. I was hoping the Vice President would tell him it was inappropriate, especially with our partners sitting at the table with us. No one said anything. The third party partners looked uncomfortable but continued with their presentation. I should have probably said something to HR, but I was too scared. I went home and cried because I felt devalued as an individual in front of high level peers and the value of my work felt diminished. As though, the only thing I brought to the table was good looks.

Comment: My boss told me directly that he wasn’t considering me for a liaison/committee position at the university where we work that would have responsibilities outside of regular work hours because I was a new mother.

Response: At the time, I just nodded and agreed.  

Comment: Cleaning is a women’s job.

Response: I laughed. I should have said it’s everyone’s job, but he was my boss and I was afraid.

Comment: While my female colleagues and I were on our way to a women’s network meeting, a manager called after us and asked if we’d really just be baking cookies and discussing makeup tips just so we can have an hour away from our desks.

Response: We giggled uncomfortably because he was in a position of authority and didn’t feel comfortable sticking up for ourselves.

How to respond? While I am both an extrovert and tend to think quickly on my feet, when faced with a stressful situation like the ones shown above, I rarely have good comebacks. It can be helpful to have a few canned phrases at the ready. Repeating something short and firm won’t make the jerks go away, but it might give them pause and allow you a moment to settle your body and respond as opposed to react. Stay tuned for a follow up post where I have crowdsourced some helpful replies, and add your own in the comments!

 

The Church of Married Latter-Day Saints

The Church of Jesus Christ of Married Latter-Day Saints

I grew up in a big Mormon family. I have dozens of cousins and we’d get together weekly for Sunday dinner at Grandma’s house. My siblings and cousins loved to plan big, group dates and play match maker. It was pretty explicit that being single was not ok. I cringe now at the comments made by myself and others to one of our oldest cousins that since he had reached the ripe old age of 25 without marrying, he was now a “menace to society.”1

Unfortunately it wasn’t until many years later that I began to examine our cultural obsession with marriage and how this harms individuals and the church as a whole.

Earlier this week, Trudy wrote a fantastic post with tips on what not to say to singles. She points out that these are not far-fetched anomalies, but phrases that she has heard some variation of many times. Regrettably I have said some of those things myself or sat quietly while people speculated why so and so was possibly not married.

After his mission, my youngest brother headed to BYU and a year later came out to our family as gay. In addition to many the challenges of navigating the church as gay, it was difficult for him to be constantly barraged with questions at church about his dating life, not wanting to explain every time that the church wasn’t actually ok with him dating men.

I don’t think people usually mean harm, but the fact is, these questions, comments and obsession with everyone’s marital status are harmful. It is worth examining the language we use when we talk to single members and how we can cultivate belonging for all. Ramona recently blogged, “To be constantly told and to be constantly bullied, and reminded of my singleness continues the dangerous narrative that something must be wrong with me.”

Our human tendency is to try and relate to others, but we don’t always do it well. We don’t need to be the same as the person for them to feel heard and valued. Our communication should be about connection, not equalizing the conversation. Trudy’s advice on what to say to single members is worth repeating: “What’s going on in your life? Have you read any good books/seen any good movies/started any fun hobbies lately? Basically anything you would say to a friend of any marital status. We’re people and we want to be talked to like people.” In particular with the LGBTQ+ population, take time to learn some of the terminology and use their preferred pronouns. It can go a long way to help someone feel like they belong.

I think it is also worth examining our cultural assumptions both large and small that underpin our commentary. For example, that true happiness is only found in marriage, or the idea of Heavenly Mother tied to Heavenly Father. Maybe she is single, divorced or never married by choice. Can we start by saying we don’t know?

I think we need to examine what the doctrine really is (or explicitly isn’t), not as an apologetic way to dismiss the concerns of single members, but to open space for expanded views of what heaven could look like. Individually it is important to change how we speak, but we must also address systemic issues that afford higher status to married members.

I imagine that even more than a love of gossip, friends and parents are concerned about singles because of the emphasis the church places on marriage, teaching that a person must be married to obtain exaltation. And yet there are so many situations we really don’t have the answers to and are told by leaders not to worry about, because God will figure it out.2

When I was younger my dad would love to keep the missionaries on their toes with doctrinal questions, such as, “does a person have to be baptized to go to the Celestial Kingdom?” Their answer was, “Of course!” And he would follow up, “but what about children who died before eight or those who are mentally disabled?”

Could we in fact say the same about exaltation and marriage? That it is possible there are situations where singles can be exalted? Can we at least say we don’t know, but we believe in a loving God, with whom all things are possible? This would be more inclusive of queer members, instead of assuming that God will “fix” people when they get to heaven and they will no longer be gay. (There is no official church stance on this that I am aware of, but I have heard from many, many members the damaging speculation that being gay is a trial of life like anything else and that people will be “restored” to a perfect – heterosexual – state in the afterlife.)

One of my dad’s favorite scriptures was Moses 1:39

For behold, this is my work and my glory – to bring to pass the immortality of man and the eternal life of a few.

And then he would add, Eternal life is exaltation, “and remember remember, that it is not the work of God that is frustrated, but the work of men;”3

I believe in a God that cares deeply for all of their children and hopes that we will care for each other too- cultivating wards and communities where all feel truly welcomed and valued.

And we talk of marriage, we rejoice in marriage, we preach of marriage, we prophesy of marriage, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.4

What if we move away from talking about marriage so we can talk more about Christ?

1. This has been falsely attributed to Brigham Young, but regardless, is a real phrase in Mormon culture to demean single members.

2. Trust in the Lord (churchofjesuschrist.org)

3. Doctrine and Covenants 3:3

4. 2 Nephi 25:26

It’s The Hope That Kills You. Alternate title: Rebirth.

It’s a catch-phrase I learned from the heartwarming show Ted Lasso that feels a little too on-the-nose. They say it about soccer; I feel it about this church.

I’ve written extensively about hope; I consider it to be the defining characteristic of a Mormon Feminist. Plenty of people write the church off when they find it to be replete with imperfections; the Mormon feminists put their shoulders to the wheel. With grit, they work and speak and reign in patriarchy like a cosmic game of whack-a-mole. Except in this case, the moles are bigger than you and everyone around you pretends they don’t exist. It almost invariably grinds us down and in the end, few of us stay. 

When I became a Mormon Feminist, I was sure that the vestiges of Patriarchy that I couldn’t unsee were actually invisible to everyone else, as they had been for me until they suddenly weren’t. I thought we would change. I didn’t know that there were decades of faithful feminists before me; that Mormon Feminism is nearly as old as Mormonism. I didn’t know how hard it was to move a mountain.  

Misogyny was the first systemic injustice that I saw; the first glimpse of a God that did match the theology of my childhood faith. Heteronormativity was the second. Racism was the third. But injustice begets injustice; systems of hierarchy bleed into evolving manifestations of oppression. All of them were here all along. Sometimes people say the quiet part out loud, but the church’s commitment to a white, heteropatriarchal vision of goodness was baked into the vision very early on. Shifting our people to the hope of Zion, which is incompatible with even a gentle white heteropatriarchy, is more weight than our collective and increasingly intersectional backs can lift. 

These past few years have been brutal on morale. It is in this unbelievable cross section of time and space where I have felt the last drops of optimism I held for my home faith drip away. When Stephen Colbert was interviewed about his own religious views, he said “The church is a flawed and human institution, for whom I always have hope”. 

Finding Mormon Feminism was like coming alive. But there was so much I didn’t know. My naivety was a gift.

What am I to do when the hope is gone? Is this what it means, for the hope to kill you? That you keep sitting in the stands or playing on the field until either victory or inevitable defeat break your heart? 

Young Mormon feminists do amazing work. Carried by optimism and with a shield of ignorance they are protected from the death strokes that came before. They are manifesting a better future. Build a better church, friends. Build a better Mormon Feminism too. Make it a goodly tradition. Speak up, write out, construct a theodicy that is better, more expansive, inclusive, inspiring. Dream up a better existence.

The difference between a Progressive-Mormon and a Post-Mormon isn’t testimony; it’s hope. Imperfection is not the enemy of the church; it is moral stagnation without repentance or improvement that slowly poisons living water. People do not need perfection. They need love and safety and goodness. We need reason to believe in a beautiful future, or at the very least a better one. When the bet changes, people go.

President Hinckley told us that Mormon should mean “more good”. I wish that was (still?) true. Finding out that I could find more good elsewhere was, once again, like coming alive. Like breathing fresh air after a lifetime underground. A rebirth from bitter ashes. 

In memoriam: Rebecca van Uitert and Jason Howell

Rebecca van Uitert and Jason Howell, courtesy of Rebecca’s Facebook page

It is with great sadness that the Exponent II memorializes a woman of great stature and her husband. Rebecca van Uitert and her husband, Jason Howell, were killed in a tragic accident while they were vacationing in Hawaii on Sunday, January 30, 2022. We are so grateful that Rebecca was the keynote speaker at the Exponent II’s 2019 retreat. She and Jason were truly remarkable people who worked hard to make the world a better place and advocate for those on the margins, in both their personal and professional lives. The news of their death made national news, including a feature in PEOPLE magazine.

In case you didn’t know this exceptional couple, I would like you to know the legacy they leave behind.

Courtesy of Fragomen Law Firm

Rebecca, an attorney who worked for Fragomen in Salt Lake City, an immigration-focused law firm, also until recently served as the dean of Career Services at J. Reuben Clark Law School at Brigham Young University. Her colleagues at Fragomen recently wrote in their tribute to her on their website, “Becca was a talented lawyer who was dedicated to her work, her team and her clients. She was passionate about providing pro bono services, selflessly giving back to the local community and fighting for those on the margins.” At Fragomen, Rebecca led their efforts to provide free representation to women and children who had been detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement in Texas. Rebecca also worked for Fragomen at their Chicago and New York City based offices.

Rebecca is also remembered as a dedicated wife and a mom to four exceptional children. “Those who had the good fortune to know and work closely with her will remember her incredible kindness and tremendous leadership,” Fragomen wrote. “Everything Becca did was done with purpose, grace and warmth. She is deeply missed and lovingly remembered.”

BYU Law School’s dean shared another tribute memorializing the couple on their Facebook page.

“I know many of you will feel, as I do, an almost incomprehensible sense of loss that people who were such a big part of our lives and who were doing so much good in the world could be taken so young. As Dean Steele and I discussed the news, she reminded me of the hymn Be Still, My Soul. Perhaps reflecting on these lyrics can offer some solace during this time of sadness:

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side;
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav’nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Dr. Jason Howell, courtesy of IHC

Jason, who was a family physician at an IHC clinic in Heber, Utah, was also remembered for his valuable contributions to the community in The Daily Universe, BYU’s newspaper, quoting from leaders at Intermountain Healthcare. “Dr. Howell was a beloved friend, physician and medical staff leader. His compassionate care and welcoming demeanor endeared him to patients and fellow caregivers. He loved the interactions with his patients and truly got to know them as he partnered to co-create holistic, personal plans to improve health. Dr. Howell will leave a lasting legacy.”

Intermountain Healthcare sent the following statement to 2News in Utah:

“All of us at Intermountain Heber Valley Hospital and Heber Valley Clinic are deeply saddened about the tragic passing of Jason E. Howell, MD and his wife, Rebecca van Uitert, JD, following a traffic accident. Dr. Howell was a beloved friend, physician and medical staff leader. His compassionate care and welcoming demeanor endeared him to patients and fellow caregivers. Dr. Howell was fluent in Spanish and a strong advocate for the Hispanic community. He loved the interactions with his patients and truly got to know them as he partnered to co-create holistic, personal plans to improve health. Dr. Howell will leave a lasting legacy.”

Rebecca and Jason when they were sealed to their four children at the Salt Lake temple in 2016, courtesy of Facebook

Services for Rebecca and Jason will be held on Monday, February 14, 2022 at 11:00 am (Mountain Time) in the Heber East Stake Center. The address is 2395 S. Mill Rd, Heber City, UT 84032. There will be a viewing held on Sunday, February 13th at the same location from 6:00 – 8:00 pm, and on the morning of the funeral between 9:30 and 10:30 am. The family asks that all attendees please wear masks. The funeral services will also be available to stream online through Myers Mortuary (www.myers-mortuary.com).

You can read Rebecca’s obituary here. You can read Jason’s obituary here.

The family has stated on Rebecca’s Facebook page that in lieu of flowers the family asks that donations be made to the van Uitert Howell Memorial Foundation, established by the family to honor their lives and continue their legacy of advocacy and service. In the coming months and years, the family will involve Rebecca and Jason’s children to determine which charitable causes the foundation should support and distribute any funds received. Many have asked what they can do to help support the children during this time and fortunately, Rebecca and Jason ensure that their children would be financially secure if something like this to were to ever happen.

To donate, you can write a check to the “van Uitert Howell Memorial Foundation” and give to a family member or donate through PayPal (paypal.me/VUHMF) or Venmo (@VUHMF).

Courtesy of Facebook

The Exponent bloggers and friends wrote the following tributes:

Risa:

It seems like I’ve known Becca my entire life. We went to the same schools from elementary to high school. We grew up in the same stake in neighboring wards. She grew up 3 streets East from me. She and one of my childhood best friends lived next door to each other and we would often play in their backyards together. I have so many wonderful memories of Girls camp, youth activities, church dances, friends hang-outs that include Becca. When I think of Becca I think about how she always had a smile on her face and determination in her eyes. Since she was young she was ambitious and knew what she wanted to accomplish. Thinking back to high school, I can picture Becca with her backpack on full of books from all her AP classes and a violin case in one hand. We had study hall together for AP students and she encouraged me set my goals higher and believe in myself. Becca was a year older than me in school and she always said it was her dream to go to BYU, go on a mission, and then to law school…and she did all those things. I loved reconnecting with her through social media as adults. She was the same old Becca I always knew…fun, big smile, generous, and accomplished. If you knew Becca, you respected her. I admired her work with immigrants and refugees, something she got flack for on social media from conservative high school friends. I rejoiced when she and Jason adopted their children, fulfilling her life-long dream of becoming a mother. And she was the best mother. When I found out Becca and Jason were killed I refused to believe it. How could two people who are working so hard in the world to make it a better place be killed tragically in their prime? They had so much more good to do. How could their children be orphaned twice? How is that fair? I’ve really struggled with the unfairness and senselessness of their deaths in the last week. All I can do is to honor Becca’s legacy with generosity, giving back, advocating for those on the margins of society, appreciating the little joys, all with a huge smile on my face. Thank you for always being an inspiration and a friend to me, Becca. God be with you ’til we meet again.

Heather:

I met Becca at the Midwest Pilgrims retreat and was immediately drawn to her. She was smart and kind and clever, all the things one could want in a friend. I looked forward to that retreat every year in no small part because I looked forward to growing our friendship. As fate would have it, we both moved to Utah in 2018 and it was wonderful to expand the context of our relationship. I even got to attend one of her classes at BYU’s Law School and it was obvious that she was as respected as she was adored by her students. She drew people to her, like a sun, giving warmth and helping others grow and heal. My favorite memory is when Kirsten Campbell and I got her to agree to be the keynote for the 2019 retreat. It took convincing, because despite her abundance of talents, she kept insisting she had nothing to say that was worthy of a keynote. Of course she was brilliant. And I loved watching her shine.

Libby:

I met Rebecca at a Midwest Pilgrims retreat in 2013. She had so much energy and such big ideas! I loved watching her humanitarian success in refugee advocacy, loved following her through their adoption journey, loved helping her apply to a leadership conference when she and the kids were sick with the flu, loved the Davis County connections we had through our parents. I was thrilled that the Exponent board agreed to invite her to be our keynote speaker in 2019, and cried at her story of how she came to be an immigration activist. She was a light in the darkness, a bright spot in a world where too few of us think about “the least of these.”

Courtesy of Facebook

Aimee:

One of the most fortifying gifts of my adult life has been attending retreats with other women where we don’t have time for small talk and cut straight to the nitty-gritty of the stuff that propels us forward or the impediments that we need to blast out of our way. These weekends together rely on extending immediate trust, and the promise to hold each other’s stories in confidence with honor and tenderness. It’s why after only a few weekends together I feel Becca’s loss so keenly and why I can hardly imagine the unfathomable grief those closest to her and Jason must be feeling after their sudden tragic loss—especially their children.

The first time I met Becca in person was at a Midwest Pilgrims retreat in Nauvoo. She was able to talk about complicated experiences and ideas with such vulnerability at the same time she could precisely name and eviscerate unjust and inhumane attitudes that make life for everyone on this planet more difficult. She was raw, and funny and smart and I admired her instantly.

A few months after that retreat, she and Jason met and began to foster their children. Watching their family come together and grow up over social media these past six years was such a gift to all of us who knew even a little bit of their story. What was evident in their photos was also evident in the way Becca spoke of her family—they weren’t just taking these four siblings in to save them, Becca and Jason were also saved by them. Where I think many people see parenting as primarily a responsibility—and as a society we often especially project this onto adopted families—Becca spoke of her parenting and nurturing primarily as building individual relationships. While she was tending to all the familiar caretaking experiences most anyone with children deal with, she seemed mindful of the importance of developing and deepening her connection and relationship with each of her children in a way that helped me reframe my own parenting. Becca didn’t meet her children just on that first day at the park in LA—she met them again and again as they grew into the people they are still becoming. She and Jason could see soulmates in their children and used everything this world offers to seal themselves together. While I personally have a complicated relationship to the LDS temple, I believe it’s most powerful purpose lies in giving families like Becca’s a ritual that supersedes law and is born in love to bind these chosen relationships together throughout time. I’m so hopeful it will be a comfort to their children now.

Sending so much love to their families, the communities they loved and served, and an ocean of grieving friends admirers.

Kirsten Campbell:

I met Rebecca many years ago at a Midwest Pilgrims retreat. At these retreats we give each other a precious gift, the gift of trust. There isn’t time to cultivate long, deep friendships in a way that can be done over years of time spent together. Instead we take a leap of faith and gift each other with a part of our hearts, trusting one another to hold sacred the things we would talk about each year. Rebecca’s smile and warm introduction drew me to her and I felt like we became instant friends. Each year when we would gather for the retreat, I always loved reconnecting with her and hearing about her life and how things were going. We shared our ups and downs—we laughed and we cried—together. I remember her sharing the poignant, painful story of infertility and the joyous journey of their adoption of Maria, Manny, JJ, and Roxy. Being adopted myself, we connected on the sweetness of the sealing ordinance for families created in such a special way. I told her that God knew I was supposed to be with my family– He just had to find a creative way for me to get me there. She understood that perfectly. Oh how she loved her kids! Her face would light up any time someone asked about them. The joy she had in being a mom to four amazing children radiated from her being.

In 2019, we asked Rebecca if she would be the keynote speaker at the Exponent retreat, one similar to the Midwest Pilgrims. She was surprised and asked whatever could she have to talk about?! Her keynote address was one of the best we’ve ever had. She spoke openly about her faith, her work, her family, and the struggles she has had. The most emotional part of her address was her description of how her, Jason, and the kids became a family. I know that her words will serve as a snapshot overview of her incredible life. I am glad to know that her family has this document and can read about her life from her own words.

I will miss my friend, but know that I’ll get her see her one day again. It will be like seeing her across the room at the retreat. We will smile, embrace, and start talking about where life has taken us during our time apart. She has inspired me to do better and to be better.

Kirsten, Becca, & Heather, Exponent retreat 2019

Lesson #1,946,563 For Living a Nuanced and Complex Life

I begin with a disclaimer.

This post is not specifically about any single person or incident. I would love to be able to say it is. We could all focus on addressing that one person or incident, and be done.

What a world that would be.

This is about a very human tendency to avoid doing the difficult work of confronting fear and prejudice, of wanting to be told what to do and think, of giving in to the habit of repeating past rhetoric, or patterns that entertained in the past. We all tend to fall into these patterns, and people in leadership are as likely as anyone.

 

I encourage people to consider this (and teach your children as well)…

Just because someone is in a position of authority or leadership, especially in a church with lay ministry, that does not automatically mean they are an expert or knowledgeable about anything.

It does not automatically mean they have struggled to understand, or emulate the radically transformative gospel of Christ, or learned to minister unto the least of these.

Just because someone is speaking at a podium, even on an assigned subject, it does not automatically mean they have studied, understood or wrestled with that subject.

It doesn’t automatically mean they are an effective speaker.

It does not mean that they are free from fear, or prejudice, or horrible moods, or being influenced by their past, or present circumstances and health problems. It does not mean that their talk or presentation will not be impacted by their fear, or circumstance, or health, or mood.

Just because someone is a professor in a religion department which does not require any degree or training in religion, or theology, or ministry, or church history – that does not mean they have any accurate knowledge or understanding of religion or anything that influences it.

Just because someone has led groups on tours to various cultural and historic sites, that does not make them expert in understanding the history and nuance of many aspects of complex cultures.

Just because someone has, in the past, been inspiring or compassionate or said words that made a long lasting and positive difference to you – that does not automatically mean that everything they do or say for the rest of their life will or has to have the same impact. I have had incredible experiences where I benefitted from what I consider inspired, even lifesaving  words or help from leaders. And I have had experiences where some of those same leaders, after years of shifting their focus from ministering to the one, and seeking to listen and learn more than instruct, instead started to fear anything they can’t control, and to think the most important thing is to please higher leadership by eliminating any voice or behavior that they can’t control or understand.

Just because someone has, in the past, been hardline or insensitive or unwilling to consider further light and knowledge about practice or teachings that are harmful and contradictory to the gospel of Christ – that does not automatically mean that they never will do the hard work of confronting their prejudice and fear, and change their hearts, minds and words. Spencer W. Kimball had always been supportive of the reasons given for the racist Priesthood Ban, and had not aligned with attempts to change it. That is, until he did the work of confronting his own racism, and the impact of it on the body of the church. He also did the hard work of being a leader who inspired others in leadership to confront their own racism, and be willing to consider what they had not considered before. They needed to seek greater light and knowledge about how completely all are alike unto God. They needed to be unanimous in removing the Priesthood Ban. Reading about this in the second SWK autobiography “Lengthen Your Stride” is an excellent look at seeing how amazing things can happen when leaders focus on seeking ways to first see how they can personally repent of fears or prejudice or exclusion, and then do the difficult work of, not shaming or guilting, but inspiring others to do so. I can’t help but wish and wonder what could have been possible if he had also confronted his homophobia.

Most of all, just because someone has an assignment to answer questions in a setting where people, especially young people are invited to submit them and come for answers and information, that does not mean that this someone is capable of listening, considering, having compassion on those who are wrestling and possibly hurting, or be willing to say they don’t know the answer, while also acknowledging the importance and value of seeking.

It is okay to get that just because someone is at the pulpit, it doesn’t mean they are wise, or compassionate, or loving, or knowledgeable. And when they start ranting, and saying insensitive things, it is completely appropriate to get up and leave, or ask them to step back, or end the meeting with a different message, or do all in your power to interrupt the harm.

It is okay to point out harm and hurt and dangerous words, and all that causes them.

And it is important to call for the need to have informed speakers for specific subjects – to verify the ability and training of someone before they are ever in a position to respond to questions, especially for young people – to remind anyone in leadership positions that they are not there to be an expert, or to have to have an answer, and that they need to at the very least do no harm. Support them in every way to be like and speak of Christ. Let them know when that does not happen, and why it is harmful. Thank them when they stand up to harmful rhetoric of any kind, especially if it might put their position on the corporate ladder at risk. It is hard for all of us to remember what Christ taught – that the ultimate test for any of us is how we treated the least of these, not how we pleased or gratified those who hold leadership callings.

There is no excuse for any speaker or leader to do such harm.

There is no excuse when other leaders do not stop or interrupt damaging words when they become aware of them.

There is no excuse for anything less than a complete and thorough apology for every harmful part of a talk, including an in-person apology to the same audience – including apologies from other leaders who were present and did nothing.

There is no excuse for anything less than an official apology from leaders for past actions and policies and messaging that is used to support and excuse harmful rhetoric and actions. When harmful teachings were repeated and excused for well over a century, it will take repeated and consistent efforts to overcome the continuation of that reasoning. It has been nearly 44 years since the ban was removed, and we are still hearing the same inaccurate reasoning and excuses for it. Every harmful instance needs to be called out.

There is no excuse for any messaging, from anyone at any level that insists we are to give absolute loyalty and agreement to leaders. Everyone needs to be a part of confronting and minimizing that harmful and impossible claim.

My suggestions here are not about insisting that leaders are supposed to be flawless, or more willing and able then others to do the hard work of seeking greater light and knowledge, of more completely living the covenants we all take on to mourn together, and bear one another’s burdens, and care for the least of these, and love one another without condition. My suggestion is that we all need to get that leaders are not flawless, or any more capable of Christlike behavior than any of us. I suggest we all see each other through that filter, stop idolizing leaders, watch and hope for when they are fulfilling the essence of their calling – which is to testify of and lead us to Christ – and don’t give automatic or blind support when they don’t.

My suggestions here are not to point a finger at those who are hurt. The harm of ignorant, fearful ranting is real, and deadly.

I only say these things in hope that people, especially young people, will not automatically assume knowledge and authority and skill in people just because of their title, or voice. I hope more people will feel able, and capable of standing and speaking in the face of it, calling for us all to be responsible participants in the community we say we want to be. I have already felt such hope from those voices who are doing this today, and everytime this happens anywhere.

It is important to be a part of the peer review process, especially when it has anything to do with pastoral care, or ministering, or participating in a faith community. This is not unique to any church. And it is playing out in similar ways in all parts of our society.

I hope we will keep in mind how hard it is to do personal shadow work, and have merciful awareness of that as we see others struggle with taking that on. It is a miserable life, to be afraid of new understanding, unwilling to seek wisdom because it might contradict closely held certainty, afraid to do or say anything that might not fit what you imagine or are told is expected of your image, to always feel a need to diminish anyone who might be different, or even have a question that is different from your own. Mostly, I hope we will focus our energy on helping and supporting those who are vulnerable or harmed by the words and actions of people who resist doing the work of loving ministry, and who use their position to excuse themselves from that.

When someone in leadership is not putting in the work of ministry, of learning complexity, of practicing our covenants to mourn together, share burdens, and to be Christlike – they are being lazy leaders.

Being a lazy leader is not part of their calling. Don’t support it.

 

Silence is Violence

The first thing I noticed was the man on the stand wiping his brow. My eyes keep returning to him. Why didn’t he do something? Children who come out as LGBTQ in testimony meeting have their mics cut, are told to sit down, are reprimanded in public by the adult leaders speaking after them. We silence children speaking their truth and allow white men to enact all kinds of white heteropatriarchal Mormon supremacy? Those priorities stink. 

“Yes,” I want to say to the sweating man. “Yes. You should say something. You should interrupt the diatribe.”

Was he uncomfortable because of the content? If we’re silent, we are complicit.

Choosing silence, for whatever reason, is how supremacy maintains its stranglehold on all of us.

Some people become apologists, going so far as to liken Wilcox to the Savior himself. We saw this when his wife responded to someone who had pointed out the harm Wilcox had done. Can we please stop thinking of our church leaders as Christ himself? “There is but one Christ and him crucified” is not a metaphor. 

We can offer grace for people to learn, but it must be partnered with accountability and change. Defending harmful actions and asking for grace without accountability supports supremacy. And reusing the harmful language Wilcox used? So revealing.

Some people try to downplay the harm, perhaps even trying to hide it from themselves. We see this when people say, “It wasn’t that bad,” or “He didn’t mean it to sound exactly the way he’s said it multiple times,” or “Don’t be so easily offended.” These are all forms of gaslighting, and I’m pretty sure Jesus never said, “Blessed are those who gaslight for they shall be made leaders in my church.”

Some people hide the harm, pretending it never existed. I’m looking at you, dirty deleters. Not to sound threatening, but Jesus did say our deeds will be shouted from the rooftops. In our modern day, this might look like screenshots and video grabs.

Some people attack those who point out the harm, rather than changing the system that supports the harm.

Supremacy looks like attacking people who talk about the damage. Contention isn’t the sorrow or shame one feels when harm is pointed out: contention is enacting the harm and then ignoring the very valid responses. Helpful actions would include sitting with the discomfort, changing oneself, and then changing the system.

Some people issue statements that recenter whiteness and power, rather than humbly seeking to make amends. BYU cannot be committed to rooting out racism while keeping racist people in leadership and teaching positions. They cannot be committed to equity and inclusion as long as they ignore the history of supremacy, a history they reaffirmed twice this week (including the removal of trans affirming care, but more on that in a future post). Saying that they’re following President Nelson’s charge, and implementing guidelines from Pres. Worthen’s committee isn’t the strong statement they think it is. Where are the voices of women, Black people, Latiné, Asian, Indigenous, LGBTQIA…? A committee of people accustomed to power will never do enough to change the structure of supremacy which gives them that power.

Wilcox’s most recent talk doesn’t come in a vacuum. It’s built on previous talks he’s given, which have been critiqued. In other words, he knew it was supremacy and did it anyway.

Some people might argue that they don’t see how Brad Wilcox was doing anything remotely like white supremacy or misogyny or ageism. He wasn’t being intolerant or disrespectful of other religions. After all, there were no crosses burning, no cars being driven into the crowd. He was just saying what he believed to be true, according to the religion he is paid to represent (BYU) and which he voluntarily serves (Young Men’s General Presidency). 

Overt acts are the fireworks, the attention grabbers. They’re easy to see and simple to name. But that isn’t how supremacy usually shows up. The snake of supremacy is subtle, slithering across language, weaving around policies, undermining gospel messages. Supremacy looks like a man speaking to a crowd gathered to hear the good word of God who, in a power hungry moment, silences a valid question by saying, “But what about us?” The ‘us,’ of course, means people who look like him. People not accustomed to being held accountable for the harm they do. In our religion, it means older white cisgender heterosexual men. Married. Abled. Neurotypical.

It isn’t a better question to ask why white people had to wait until 1829 to have the Priesthood. The better question is to ask why white people give white supremacy a platform in what is supposed to be God’s own church. In the year 2022, with access to so much gospel truth preached from people who walk a godly walk, why do we turn the mic over to people whose hearts are far from the God their lips draw near to?

“Maybe we’re asking the wrong question.” Yes, we are. We should be asking why the people in power keep making statements that harm those who aren’t in power. Why is the ideal human, according to church leaders, white, cisgender, heterosexual, abled, and male? Why does leadership consistently look like leadership did during Brigham Young’s day? If we’re truly a global church, full of all of God’s children, shouldn’t the makeup of leadership look a lot more like the real world? This would mean far fewer white men and far more women. And where are the gender expansive leaders? Either God loves us all and wants us all to have equal membership in this church, or God is a liar for saying all are alike unto him. Either we are all the body of Christ, or Christ is incomplete. But we cannot expect change to happen if the same people always control the pulpit.

There’s an apology, and then there’s a “sorry you caught me, guess I’ll be sneakier next time” apology.

“In our church we don’t play church. We have the authority….”  Any God who would consign generations of people to spiritual limbo because of their religious beliefs or family connections isn’t a God I believe in, and I don’t think it’s the God preached by the LDS church. It is, however, a god too many of our church siblings believe in. It’s the god Brad Wilcox preached at that meeting. 

When the leaders repeat what other leaders have said, a system of supremacy becomes visible. Wilcox isn’t the only one who needs to unlearn supremacy–that unlearning needs to start at the top.

“People wanna sit and fight about it. Get uptight about it…we make it a little harder than it needs to be.” We don’t want to fight about it, but we do want changes. And some of the ‘we’ definitely make it harder than it needs to be. It’s easier when we say, “The Priesthood/Temple ban was racist and wrong. It never came from God. We’re now going to learn what reparations are needed to regain trust.” That isn’t hard. 

It’s easier to say, “There is a power imbalance in the church, and we only pay lip service to women as leaders in order to hide how oppression works. We’re meeting with women and nonbinary people (of all races) in order to figure out a healing path.” That’s simple. 

It’s easier to say, “People have questions. Those questions are valid. There are some hard things in the history of our church, and talking openly about them helps us build a personal relationship with God.” That’s honest. 

It’s easier to say, “There are beautiful things in other religions that the LDS church doesn’t have. We’re going to build these relationships, not to convert people, but to learn all the ways God shows up. Because we believe that God loves everyone, and that no one who tries to do good will be excluded from His loving presence.” That strengthens all of us.

It’s easier to say, “I don’t understand why this happened,” than it is to mock people who ask the question. 

The man in the stand wiping his brow. I keep returning to him. There are a lot of reasons people don’t speak up. Maybe we feel out-powered or out-privileged. We might be insecure in our knowledge. Sometimes, we don’t know how to say something. And sometimes, we prioritize comfort over truth speaking. So this is me, giving permission to all of us, to stop wiping our brows and start speaking up. If we’re complacent, if we let the supremacy go unchallenged, we’re complicit in the supremacy. The man wiping his brow, the people on the stand, everyone in the audience who didn’t walk out, who sat through the talk, laughing or not, nodding their heads or not, feeling joyful or uncomfortable, every one of them is complicit, and that made Wilcox powerful. The people who are now rampaging through social media defending Wilcox are making supremacy powerful. 

I don’t think that’s the side God wants me to be on. Anyway, it’s not the side I want me to be on, and it’s not the side I want to have surrounding me. 

Language matters. Language reveals who we are and what we believe. Both Brad and Debi Wilcox used racist language to support supremacy.

The God of Hagar, Part 3

The Zamzam well, which according to the Islamic faith, is the well that sprang up when Hagar was looking for water for Ishmael. Muslims visit the well as part of their pilgrimage to Mecca. Image found here.

Part 1, Part 2

TW mention of infertility and abuse

Hagar could be called a prophet, and she’s central to understanding the Abraham story arc, but I’m glad I even managed to find Hagar’s story. If I had done only the student readings for my “Women in the Scriptures” Institute class, she wouldn’t have been mentioned at all. Yup. If you want to know the story of a woman who saw an angel of the Lord, you better hope the teacher brings her up or make sure to do extra reading. Other religious traditions talk about her more. I have some serious holy envy about the place of honor Hagar holds in the Islamic faith.

When we teach this story in church, we tend to focus on Sarah’s infertility: how having a baby is a righteous desire and how God will perform miracles in his own time. This year’s curriculum is no exception. There are plenty of other aspects of this story we could talk about: how Hagar talks with god, the abuse Abraham perpetuated against Sarah, or how we might see ourselves in Sarah’s own abusive actions.

Hagar talks with the Angel of the Lord

The angel of the Lord addresses Hagar by name and asks her what’s going on. She says she’s running away. Each of the verses in Genesis 16:9-11 begin with the phrase “And the angel of the Lord said unto her”. Perhaps there was a pause in the conversation as he awaits Hagar’s response. He tells her to return to Sarai. She doesn’t answer, but I imagine her thinking very loudly “Oh heck no!” He tells her she’ll have a whole bunch of posterity. Again, she doesn’t reply, but I’d imagine she’s thinking “What? So Sarai can steal my baby and claim all the grandkids as her own? Not good enough.” He tells her that she will have a son, that she should call him Ishmael (meaning God hears), that Ishmael will be a wild, fighting man, and (depending on the translation) that he will either fight with or live near his brothers. This prophecy brought enough of a chance of freedom for Hagar that she decided to go back. I love that Hagar’s decision doesn’t seem to be made out of blind obedience to God. She didn’t instantly follow the command to return to her mistress. She waited for the angel to offer promises that made returning a hopeful course of action. Hagar named the Lord who spoke to her “El-roi” meaning God of seeing or God who sees. She named the well “Beer-lahai-roi” meaning the Well of the Living One who sees me.

I wonder how Ishmael’s name affected both Hagar and Sarai. I imagine that the name may have often been painful to Sarai, who probably felt that God did not hear her own desire for a son. I can imagine that the name “God hears” would serve as a gentle rebuke to Hagar when she got frustrated with her child. I also imagine that the name was often a comforting reminder of God’s willingness to sit with her.

Abraham abused Sarah

We tend to gloss over the parts where Abraham tries to pass Sarah off as his sister, not just once, but twice! Treating your wife like property and selling her sex appeal is a totally messed up thing for a husband to do. Pulling off this trick led to gifts from pharaoh and gain for Abraham. Even though God sent plagues because of this behavior, Abraham was greedy and tried it again with King Abimelech. He was rewarded with wealth again.

My heart aches for Sarah. It would be hard to be a childless woman in a society that placed so much of a woman’s worth on her ability to produce children. I wondered if, in a time before artificial insemination and IVF, it was baby-hungry Sarah that came up with the idea. There is absolutely no textual support for this. Even if it had been Sarah’s idea, it was the God of Abraham that made it clear that it was unacceptable for Sarah to have multiple sexual partners. I wish I knew what the God of Sarah said about the situation. Either way, Abraham was abusing Sarah. Despite this, Sarah cannot be excused for perpetuating the cycle of abuse in her actions towards Hagar.

Recognizing our own abusive actions

Being able to identify with a variety of people in all types of different life circumstances is an important part of spiritual development. I could identify with Hagar, but I also realized how much more difficult her ordeal was compared to mine. That didn’t mean I wasn’t struggling, but I had a roof over my head, financial security, and a supportive family. In this, I was more like Sarai: she had a tent over her head, flocks of animals to eat, and servants to protect her. In contrast, Hagar was alone in the wilderness with very limited resources and no one to help her. Being able to connect with Hagar’s story despite the differences in our life circumstances has helped me to better recognize my own privileges.

I don’t want to see myself in the way Sarai treated Hagar, but I do. Some of the people who help feed and clothe me are in bondage. Honestly, I don’t do all I can with my privilege to make sure that the people who help care for me are paid a fair and living wage. I’m continually trying to take baby steps in the right direction. Last week I finally sourced Fairtrade chocolate chips. Last autumn I explored my privilege as it relates to the clothing industry: I had bought a pair of denim shorts from a big box store for $6. They weren’t on the clearance rack. That was their regular price. I thought about the time and costs associated with harvesting, spinning, weaving, dying, cutting, sewing, and shipping the materials for those shorts. My shorts had crossed an ocean at least once. I know industrialization and globalization has helped reduce costs of manufacturing, and I’m not an expert in economics, but I have a hard time believing that there was no exploitation involved somewhere in this system. Somehow the entire process of making a pair of shorts was valued at less than one hour’s worth of United States minimum wage work. I ended up returning the shorts. I paid more than ten times as much for a pair of pants from a local store that stocks clothing brands whose marketing at least acknowledges my concerns. Feeding the hungry and clothing the naked is the moral imperative. My needs are met, and I can pay more so that those who labor for me can meet their needs as well. Changing chocolate chip brands or returning a pair of shorts seem like laughably small and imperfect actions compared to the enormity of problems like wage theft and trafficking. These are global problems, and one person alone cannot fix them. If we as a society don’t want to perpetuate oppression in the same way Sarai oppressed Hagar, we need to be more like the God of Hagar. We need to see the suffering, hear the stories, and care for the lives of those whose labor we benefit from.

Both the Old and New Testaments teach that it’s important to care for the well-being of others. Hagar’s story is referenced in the ten commandments. Exodus 23:12 says that “on the seventh day thou shalt rest: that…the son of thy handmaid, and the stranger, may be refreshed.” The Hebrew word for “stranger” (wə·hag·gêr) plays off of Hagar’s name. The Sabbath should be a day of rest, particularly for those who labor for you. Christ’s ministry modeled how we need to see and connect with those who are “the least of these”. Our curriculum does not examine how high-status individuals in the scriptures treat “the least of these”. It needs to.