Exponent II's Blog, page 142

Book Review: Sharla Goettl’s Spiritual Resilience

It took me a long time to become a mother. Years of infertility treatments and a most unconventional adoption finally turned me into a mother. The next step for me was to become the mother I want to be. This is something that I struggle with every day- am I being the best parent I can be for my children? What can I do better? How can I help them to have a better spiritual experience that I did? How can I help them to develop a relationship with God?

 

My list of questions is unending, so I grabbed the opportunity the read and review Sharla Goettl’s Spiritual Resilience: LEADING OUR YOUTH TO GO and DO.

 

Okay. So. To be fully honest, I was initially … disappointed when I first opened the book. In summary, Goettl’s thesis is entire founded in the book of 1 Nephi in the Book of Mormon. Whilst I love a good exegesis of scripture, I was not looking forward to the typical church book that would tell me I was doing everything wrong, feminism is bad and I need to repent a lot before I even read the second page. You know those books.

 

Thankfully, this was not the case in this book. It has been a long time since I read a non-academic church book, and though Goettl does offer advice based on what she learned in reading the Book of Nephi, what she shared was absolutely her voice. That is to say that she did not shape her analysis with politics, an agenda to prove something, or because she is trying to write a best seller. Sure, she quotes LDS prophets, but not in a manner that seems like she is using them to show or prove some kind of ecclesiastical superiority. Rather as I read, I felt like I was reading the words of the kind of mother who cared about me, and my children. Goettl’s words are those of a believer, but also as someone who takes humility seriously. She sounded open minded, and willing to let her children to explore spiritual self-sufficiency even if it wasn’t exactly how we are “supposed to”. She allows the reader to breathe and follow their own promptings. For example:

 

“My family and I read the scriptures together the best we know how…There was a time years ago we could hardly read three verses a few times a week. I have come to understand that our collective, continual efforts toward progress are acceptable to the Lord.” (page 140)

 

In other words, perfection isn’t for now, and that is okay. How I crave this advice!

 

I love reading how much love and admiration Goettl has for her three daughters, and the stories of her daughters actually teach her to be a better person as well as a better parent. She tells us, “In this hopefully helpful book, I have tried to muster all my truth.” (146) This is what made the book work for me. The author does not try to challenge others who do not agree with her, nor does she try to sell you on the church as a perfect institution. There was not one iota of strawman here. Rather, she teaches you about how she balances her relationships with her children, with God, and with the Spirit, without talking down.

 

The book does not challenge religious inequalities as it positions all on the same playing field.  It is written from a faithful believer’s, though not a blind faith, point of view.

 

As a part of the book’s Blog tour, there is a Rafflecopter contest here that runs from May 1-8 to win a copy of the book from the author.

 

It is published by CastorAmera  and is available from Amazon.

Pelomom

Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash

Both before and during the pandemic, I have thoroughly enjoyed using a certain exercise app/bike that shall-not-be-named, with great workouts and trainers with affirming, inspirational styles.  In that same vein, the following is a proposed script inspired by my sister for an outdoor run in a fictional exercise program called “Pelomom,” geared specifically toward moms who have been stuck home with their children during the pandemic.

Description:
Hang out with Liz and some of her favorite music during this 20 minute rage run!  We’ll start with a 3-minute warm-up, followed by fourteen minutes of running with five 30-second intervals of primal screaming, and a 3-minute cool down.

Equipment:
Spear*
Supportive footwear
* if you don’t have a spear, any sharp kitchen instrument or vaguely threatening home decor item should suffice

Featuring Music By:
Lizzo
Beyoncé
Rage Against the Machine
Meredith Brooks
Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion
Alanis Morrisette
Ani DiFranco

Script: 
All right Pelomom fam, let’s do this outdoor run!  We’re going to start in a light jog as we get going.  Now, the first thing we want to think about is safety, make sure that spear is pointed high and away from your face and body!  We want to feel menacing and strong, but nobody has time to go to urgent care today!  Alright, sounds like we’ve got some “Truth Hurts” on the playlist right now, and you know what truth really hurts?  The truth that MOMS can’t get a break during this pandemic!  We are doing all the things, aren’t we ladies?  We are doing our jobs, we are homeschooling, we are cooking, we are grocery shopping, we are stretched in all the ways, and that truth, it hurts!  Alright yes, let’s get nice and warmed up in our jog.  Now in our outdoor run today I’m gonna recommend we do an out-and-back, where we run for ten minutes in one direction and then run back on the same route for the final ten minutes.  It’ll all make sense when we get there.  Keep going, that’s right.

Alright now we’re easing into our first interval, just in time for some Queen Bey!  Alright ladies, right as soon as she sings “Middle fingers up, put them hands high,” I want your hands in the air and to start your first scream.  You ready, ladies?  3, 2, 1…. AGHGHGHGHGHGHHGHHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHHGHHH!!!!!!!!!!  Yes, let that scream LOOSE!  Keep it up, keep screaming!!!  You tell the world your pain, you let it out now!!  Keep it going, ten more seconds of screaming!!!  Alright, finishing that scream up in 3, 2, 1…

Ok now settle back into a comfortable pace.  You don’t need to push too hard, we are not working today, we are taking time for ourselves.  We aren’t getting anybody a snack or teaching common core math, this is our time and we are going to take our time!  You know Beyoncé takes her time, she doesn’t run harder than she has strength!  But she is strong, and so are you.  I want to celebrate you for taking some time for yourself today, for knowing that you cannot draw water from an empty well.  You are doing great work here, and I applaud you for that.

Alright we’re coming up to our second interval just as Rage gets going!  Yeah you know, society, they say they rally ’round the family, but do they, Pelomom fam?  We know they say they do, but are we truly supported?  Do we get the time off that we need?  The childcare that we need?  Why are you the only one that ever makes dinner or does the dishes?  Sounds like a pocket full of shells to me!  Alright, we’re gonna do this interval here in ten seconds, and if you want to really lean in to the workout, I’m gonna suggest that as you scream, you rip your shirt off and leave it on the street. Ready?  3, 2, 1………. AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHGHGHGHGHHGGHH!  Yes!!  Rip that shirt off!!  You show the world your floppy body and you make them see it!!  You show the world who you are, all of your scars and all that you do!  Don’t worry if that man in the car driving by starts to stare!  You stare right back at him and you excoriate him with your eyes!  You know, people, they want women to be soft, and meek, and submissive.  But we’re not, are we?  We are powerful sorcerers and we are sick of all of this!  We are not going quietly!  You keep screaming!  You tell the world that you are tired of staying quiet!  You are tired of sitting back!!  Alright, let’s end our scream in 3, 2, 1…

That felt nice, didn’t it?  It feels good to be fully in our bodies.  Now I know some of you might be thinking, “should I go back and get my shirt?” Or, “am I going to be arrested for this?”  No!  As long as you kept your pants on, it should be fine!  And if you didn’t, well, I support you in your truth, and you tell the police that you are simply showing up in a human body and that shouldn’t be against the law!  And also that, legally, Pelomom never told you to remove your pants.  Just your shirt.  And we’ll get it on the way back, no stress.

Ok, now this song, this is a throwback!  Remember rocking out to this back when life was a little simpler?  Before you realized the full extent of the patriarchy and the fact that men kill women with alarming frequency when they feel rejected?  Yeah, I hate the world today too, Meredith Brooks!  And we are complex creatures!  We can be all these things!  B-words, lovers, children, mothers, sinners, saints… and we do not feel ashamed, do we, Pelomom fam?  No we don’t!  We know what Sister Brené says! We are worthy of love and belonging!  Shame is not helpful or productive!  Yeah you know I’ve read “The Gifts of Imperfection!”  Made my whole book club read it, that’s right.  Alright, we’ve hit about ten minutes, so I want you to stop running, stand still, close your eyes, and put your hand over your heart.  Yes, right there on your semi-naked chest.  Feel that heart beating, and take a minute to really feel the moment.  Really let it sink in.  Even in this broken, terrible world where nobody appreciates you enough, you are here, and you are enough.  Now, with your eyes closed, I want you to widen your stance, feet a little more than hip-width apart, open your arms and stretch them high, with your spear pointed in the air, and we’re going to do our third scream.  Ready?  3, 2, 1….. AAAAAAAGAGAGGHHHGHJHJJGHGHGHGHGGH!!!!!!

Yes!!  That felt amazing!!  Much more guttural this time for me.  And now we are back to running!  We’re heading back toward where we came from!  And what’s that I hear?  There’s some whores in this house?  Yeah, we have Cardi and Megan out here with us!  And you know I have feelings about the Madonna/whore dichotomy!  Somebody needs to get a bucket and a mop to clean up all that patriarchal nonsense!  But not us, we are taking time for ourselves!  Let somebody else do the mopping today, ladies! Now, I would get more into the lyrics of this song but Pelomom’s liability clause does not permit that, but I know that we’ll crank this one up in the car if we ever get to go anywhere by ourselves again!  Alright, here we go, one more scream, really dig deep this time!  3, 2, 1…….. AAAGGHGGHHGHHGHGHGHHGGHGHHGH!!! Yes, ladies, let that scream out!!  Scream until you’re feeling a little bit hoarse! Scream like somebody told you we’re going back into lockdown and school won’t be back in session until 2022!!  Yes, that’s right!

Oh hey, there’s my shirt!  Alright, I’m gonna pick that up, and I’ll let you ladies decide whether you want to put it back on or drape it over the tip of your spear like some sort of spoil of war.  And we have Ms. Alanis Morrisette coming at us now, and you oughta know how proud I am of all of you for keeping with this run!  You oughta know that I see you, I see your hard work and your dedication and your love for your kids even if you want to lock them in their rooms at night so they can’t come out for “just one more drink.”  You oughta know that your feelings are valid, and that your truth matters!  You, you, you oughta know!!  Ok, here we go, we’re gearing up for our final scream of our run today.  We’re going to really go for it this time.  I want you to channel all the rage that you’ve felt, all the frustration, all the guilt… and I want you to get ready to let it out here in 3, 2, 1…. AAAAAAHAHGHGHGHGHGHHGHGHHGHGHGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!  Yes!  You let it out!  You tell the world that you are here and you are not gonna take it anymore!!  You refuse to sit quietly or laugh awkwardly in an effort to diffuse a tense situation in which a man may feel slightly challenged!!  You refuse to let one more person call you “sweetie” when they disagree with you!  You refuse to be ok with systemic injustice and you refuse to sit quietly when your aunt says something racist at the family reunion (again)!  You will not be silent anymore!! Yell it out, Pelomom fam!  Yell! It! Out!

Whew, that was something, wasn’t it?  Alright, let’s slow down into a walk.  We have Ani DiFranco singing us home. She is giving us wise words that will bring us sustenance.  We will tend our anger, and we will tend our grief.  We will achieve safety, we will find relief!  We will find those things for us, and for those around us, because we matter!  We can bring this revolutionary love together. Thank you for running with me today.  I wish you peace, calm, time to yourself, and for you to find your voice.  Peace and love, y’all.  Peace and love from me, and from Pelomom.

Dear Intersectional Feminists: Signed, Ethnically Ambiguous

Guest Post by Nicole Sbitani. Nicole is an adult convert, a non-Black woman of color, and a professional diplomat. She blogs at nandm.sbitani.com and writes microfiction @nsbitani on Twitter. The content of this post does not represent the views of the U.S. Department of State or any other U.S. Government agency, department, or entity. The thoughts and opinions expressed here are solely those of the author and in no way should be associated with the U.S. Government.

Dear Intersectional Feminists,

I know many of you are trying your best. There’s a lot of oppression and injustice in the world, and it’s impossible to be all things to all people in all places at the same time. I see you, following new antiracism educators on Instagram, supporting BIPOC businesses, and having difficult conversations with the people around you. Your efforts are appreciated, because allyship is key for the enormous progress we still need to make.

However, as a non-Black, mixed-race woman of color, I often feel erased by your words and actions. Many of the discussions about race in intersectional feminist spaces are painfully binary. Conversations that seek to separate everyone into neat, discrete categories–oppressed and oppressor, those who are racist and those who are victims of racism–are themselves exclusionary. I know this first-hand as an often white-passing, mixed-race Asian American. People like me are marginalized, but we can also perpetuate marginalization of others and weaponize the privilege we do have. It’s not always black-or-white only, and the pretense that it is not only hurts people but is untrue.

An example of this is playing out in multiple Facebook groups I’m in, including the Exponent II Discussion Group. There is (correctly) enormous pressure on administrators and moderators of feminist spaces to ensure that those spaces are safe for BIPOC, LGBTQ+ folks, and other marginalized groups. Historically in the West, many so-called “mainstream” feminist spaces advocated solely for the concerns of white women, often to the detriment of women and men of color. Avoiding repeating these mistakes and harms is a noble goal. But in an effort to ensure the onus is firmly on those with privilege to bear as much of the burden as possible while still centering the marginalized, some well-meaning feminists unintentionally marginalize others by forcing us to choose: do we only have privilege or are we only marginalized?

In reality, virtually everyone has some privilege and some marginalization. I have been dismissed and marginalized in ways that only a woman of color or a mixed-race person could possibly know and understand. Like many mixed-race people torn between two cultures and racial experiences, I have been told I am too white to be Korean and too Korean to be white. While I pass as white, some have dismissed my words because of my perceived race. Others question if I can really be American because they see me as “brown” or just not white enough. For one of my previous Exponent blog posts, I was asked by an editor to be more clear about whether I was Black and did not need to do the work of anti-racism or white and did. (For the record, my answer was “neither and also this framing doesn’t work for me”.)

As I looked for a Scriptural reference for this blog post, I came across reminder after reminder that many verses consider mixed-race children like me a sin or even an abomination. Some of those same verses were used to justify laws and court decisions banning interracial marriage and the resulting children many believed were better off never being born. But I draw strength from Galatians 3:28-29: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. And if ye be Christ’s, then are ye Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.”

I think I would feel a lot more comfortable in intersectional feminist spaces if they accounted for people like me who are never going to fit a racial dichotomy, especially not somewhere like the United States. If you’re new to this topic, I included some reading material below to get you started. Let’s do this vital work together.

Signed,

Ethnically Ambiguous

Recommended Reading:

Non-United States

From mixed race and confused, to proud Afro-European: my identity story

I grew up mixed-race in southern Africa. Who has the right to tell my story?

Blasian love: The day we introduced our black and Asian families

No One Believes That I’m Japanese

Hockey Culture Wants ‘Good Canadian Boys,’ Just None That Look Like Me

United States

This Is What No One Tells You About Being Asian In America In 2021 Multiracial in America

The loneliness of being mixed race in America On being “ethnically ambiguous”

Kamala Harris, multiracial identity, and the fantasy of a post-racial America

6 things I wish people understood about being biracial

I Ain’t White: Confessions of a Mixed-Race Xicana

Finding Asian Identity in a Black and White America

Coming Out as Biracial

Academic

Racism in a Black White Binary: On the Reaction to Trayvon Martin’s Death

Asia Pacific Perspectives: Special Mixed Race Issue

Here Is My Witness

Here is my witness.

On April 11, Natasha asked to gather with several friends at my house in Salt Lake City, have prayer together, and receive a priesthood blessing from my husband, Mike. This was several days after she informed me of the summons to a disciplinary hearing in Wichita, sent to her by her former Stake President.

While we were gathering, I felt a clear prompting, and told Natasha I would be with her for the hearing. If she chose, I would witness her life and the way I had seen her save marriages, relationships, even lives.

Soon, Jana and I were making plans to fly together to Wichita. The cost was not comfortable, but it was possible. Especially when generous women donated to help us and others be able to travel and support Natasha. I witness them, and their amazing generosity and kindness.

We were among a number of people who were helping Natasha appeal this action. We followed every connection to inform any and every church leader or office about the conflict of interest, the denial of process, the failure to follow all the policy and order set in place in the handbook. The only response received was in support of Natasha’s former Stake President. Even when we directly asked for someone to please call Natasha, and tell her why her appeals were denied, maybe offer some kind of ministry and understanding – there was no response.

We have no way of knowing who actually heard the appeals, or why they were denied.

During the following week those of us who were witnesses were asked to provide information demonstrating that we were active, temple recommend holding church members. This needed to be sent to Natasha’s former Stake President. He was requiring this before he would approve the witnesses. We were told we could only have 3 minutes to give a statement.

My husband told me that did not follow policy. We found the section in the handbook the stated there needed to be time for all the relevant information to be presented. There was nothing about the member being restricted to an hour.

We were told we needed to sign an agreement stating we would not record the hearing in any way. Natasha also made it clear that she did not intend, and did not want any of us, to record anything in the hearing. She did communicate to the Stake President that he could record the hearing. She made sure we all received copies of all communications about agreements, and conditions so that there would be nothing that would compromise her or us being able to represent at the hearing.

Even though the final approval from the Stake President was not sent until later in the week, four other women witness and I went ahead and bought airline tickets, canceled family plans, and made arrangements to travel to Wichita.

Much of what happened from the time we arrived on Saturday, until the hearing on Sunday, April 18, involved being with and supporting Natasha as she prepared. It is for her to share what she wishes of that time.

I did share a writing from Maxine Hanks with Natasha and the other women, before we left for the Stake Center. Maxine gives extraordinary lessons about the Holy Days from the various liturgical calendars. Here are parts from the longer quote…

“Today, third Sunday in Easter, is the day of female disciples, the anointers, the “myrrh-bearers” — a holy day devoted to the women disciples who followed and anointed Jesus before & after his crucifixion, who came to his tomb on Sunday morning, first to witness the risen Christ, and first to tell others.

Who were these “certain women” who followed Jesus? …A dozen women disciples are cited as Jesus’ closest female initiates. And “many other women” are mentioned, unnamed.

When male disciples fled, the women remained with Jesus, thro his trial (Magdalane tried to defend him), and at the cross, and at his tomb, bearing myrrh-oils to anoint His body.

These women witnessed the risen Christ, and were the “ones sent” (“apostolos”) to tell the male disciples that He lives. Yet the male disciples didn’t believe them.

The scriptures, cannonized and apocryphal, describe female disciples having an equal role, authority and spiritual power. When will female anointers, ministers, priestesses, healers, witnesses (apostolos) be believed, recognized, authorized in our churches today?

For our female anointers, healers, myrrh-bearers, ministers and witnesses of the divine today, who minister to the birthing, living, suffering, and dying of others, like the “certain women” who travelled with Jesus, Magadalene et al — Today is Your holy day.” – Maxine Hanks

I read this to Natasha, and the women gathered in her home to pray, to presence our heritage, our foremothers, our strength and hope.

There were 6 witnesses approved for the hearing who wanted to speak in support of her. Andy Parker is Natasha’s ex-husband, and 5 of us who are active, temple recommend holding women.

We arrived a bit early for the 7:30 hearing. There were people gathering on the far side of the parking lot under a bowery. This was a vigil planned in support of Natasha. There was also a police car near the entrance to the lot, with at least one officer in there. We went over to the vigil, said hello to a few people. Then the 6 of us gathered outside the west entrance where we had been told to meet. There were no chairs, so we were sitting on the curb, or standing nearby. Soon, Natasha arrived and joined us. 2 of the witnesses had tried to enter the foyer, but it was locked. A man opened the door and said we could not enter. These 2 women asked to enter to use the restroom, but they were denied entrance. This man only came out when John Dehlin approached us, filming Natasha when she joined us. He told John he could not video on the property, and to step away. John did this immediately, and returned to the vigil. The police car left.

Natasha was concerned to hear they had not allowed anyone into the building, not even to use the restroom.

When it was time, the same man opened the door and told Natasha she could enter, but would not allow anyone else to enter, even to use the restroom.

I have been in many meetings with legislative, business, education and church leaders. I can’t remember ever experiencing such a lack of feeling as I did from this man who was guarding the door. Through all the interactions, it seemed as though he did not see us as real people, no matter what we said or asked.

A few minutes after Natasha entered, she was escorted back out. She walked past us and over to the lawn across the parking lot. We saw 2 friends join her. One soon came back to us and told us she had not been allowed in the room because she would not give up her phone. I knew all of her notes were on her phone. Her laptop was broken, and she had not been able to print anything from it. She had signed the agreement to not record. And there had been nothing in all the communication about her needing to give up her phone. They said she could email her notes to them, but she refused because there was confidential information in the notes. So she was told she had to leave. She was not even told this directly, but only through this unfeeling guard, since she was not allowed in the room with the stake leaders.

I was really concerned this had happened. We continued to wait outside the door, which remained closed and locked. After a while, a woman stepped out to leave. We asked if she was the Stake RS president Natasha had requested to be there. She was, and she said she was told she was no longer needed, so she could go home. Jana and I asked if she could please remain for us. We told her we wanted to have another woman in the room when we were in there to witness. She hesitated and seemed unsure.

Then the doorman stood at the door and said we needed to leave the property. The RS president heard us as we asked if the hearing was cancelled, and when were we to offer witness? He would not give a clear answer about the hearing, but just kept saying we needed to leave the property. After asking several times, we were told we would not be allowed to enter, or to witness. He would not answer questions, he just insisted we leave. At one moment, he said he was just conveying a message.

We pled with him to ask to let us do what we came to do. We told him about getting flights, and canceling plans, and feeling led to be there to offer witness. Jana told him about getting a blessing from her Stake President before she came, and her desire to express her love of this church, and to seek ministry care for her sister.

One sister was sobbing, and crying that this action was not what her church was about. I tried to console her, recognizing the trauma she was experiencing of seeing unrighteous action from leadership for the first time. Another witness helped her, took her away.

The door guard stepped back in a few times as we continued to ask him to find out why we were not allowed in, or why the stake president would not come and speak with us. But the guard only came back each time and insisted we leave the property. When he returned at one point, there were two men behind him, listening to what we were asking. They seemed a little more concerned with what was happening. The guard again said we couldn’t come in and we had to leave, this time adding it was because we hadn’t kept our agreement. We insisted we had kept every agreement and met every condition asked of us. He actually asked for proof of that. I looked at him and said, “So what I am hearing is that the Stake President is not keeping his agreement to allow us to witness at this hearing?” I realized this decision to deny Natasha her witness was not based on any agreement, but solely on the bias of the Stake President, and the willingness of these men to enforce it.

The men behind him were listening and showing concern. I asked if we could please, at least give them our printed statements, since they were not allowing us in. The two men behind doorman hurried back in (I assume to check with the SP). The guard insisted we couldn’t and we had to leave. The two men returned and said they would take our printed statements. Only 3 of the 6 of us had printed our statements. The others were using notecards and had nothing to hand over. I quickly gathered the printed statements from the 2 other witnesses that had them. Then I had to reach over the guard to hand the statements to the men behind him. The guard would not move from the doorway, or allow me to come near the entrance.

We stepped back from the door, and saw 3 police cars enter the parking lot.

Another witness began to have an anxiety attack. I held her and went through some restorative breathing with her until she could move into some recovery.

I have rarely experienced anything that so completely minimized the value of membership, or seen such a clear denial of the qualities required for priesthood authority.

Jana and I began calling anyone we could think of to try to give our account to other church leaders. This was so clearly against policy, procedure, and more importantly, everything the gospel is about. We wanted to make sure church leaders were hearing about it. Both Jana and I are trained in and practice mindfulness, and we were doing that to stay calm, intentional, and powerful in the face of such absence of compassion. We realized that whatever account the men in the building were going to give, it would not reflect what we were experiencing.

We were offering a different witness than what we had expected.

We paced near the entrance and around our car as we called and messaged and communicated what was happening to others over the phone. I was not aware of what those at the vigil had heard, but didn’t feel any need to tell them. I was aware of the police speaking to them.

Everyone else gradually left. No one left the building. I saw the guard look through the glass every once in a while to see if we were gone. Jana and I kept calling, conferring, pacing, praying. One of the other witnesses was in the car. Then there were 2 police cars left, and 2 officers approached us and told us we needed to leave.

Jana and I each explained we were members of this church, and we were there to offer witness, and were trying to get answers about being denied that. They were clearly uncomfortable. Probably since we were white women in Sunday dress, they were not going to assume any threat – and we were very aware of what that privilege afforded us.

They approached us every few minutes insisting we leave. They said the owner asked them to have us leave. We told them we were the owners. They then said the person in charge asked us to leave. I was very tempted to say the phrase I had lettered on a shirt years ago – “Do you want to talk to the man in charge, or the woman who knows what’s going on?” But I decided that would not be effective.

We said we heard them, and we intended to leave, and we needed to finish some calls and prayers before we left. We acknowledged this must be uncomfortable for them, and we were going to do what we needed to do until we were done.

Then another officer left, and the last officer stood between Jana and I, watching us. He then said he couldn’t leave until we left. We said we understood, and we would do what we needed to do until we were done. In that moment, I felt no need to put the comfort of this man before our own needs.

As I leaned my head against the car, I asked God for guidance. I thought of how this day is the Holy Day on the liturgical calendar, in honor of the women witnesses, the women who anointed Christ, the women who remained when all had left. I wondered what I was to do. I had not been allowed to do what I came such a long way to do. But I felt there was something I was there to do.

For some reason, I thought of the verses that talk about what needs to happen before Christ can return to the earth. I have long thought that the second coming is not some future event. It is what occurs each time we invite and presence God in the world. The scriptures that describe what will happen before God comes again are mostly about disasters that we have no control over. But there is one task we are given. We are to overcome evil with good.

I realized what I needed to witness. We had just seen a building of our church, one dedicated for gathering and worship of the gospel of Jesus Christ, where all are to feel welcome to meet with others seeking to bring the love of and for God into the world, and to practice following Christ – we had just seen this building become a locked fortress denying existence and compassion in a very un-Christlike way. We had pleaded for some kind of ministry, of pastoral care – and had been turned away. We could do nothing to change that. We could only overcome it with good. We could only overwhelm it with the presence of God. I recalled how, in my darkest moments, I could ask and listen for God. And God is there. Heavenly Parents sat with me, mourned with me, loved me.

I let go of the noise, the heartbreak, the pain of past trauma welling up, the desecration of this faith community building – and turned to the presence of God. They sat with me, wept with me, mourned with me.

There, in the parking lot, where 3 women witnesses still gathered and prayed, I asked for the presence of God to create sacred space again in this place of our faith community. I witness the power of goodness to overcome everything.

Soon after that, we left. Just as we were pulling out, I took a picture looking into the foyer where we were forbidden entrance. I saw that someone was sitting under one of the paintings of Christ’s life. I felt sorrow for him.

My faith community is where I have learned to seek and experience expansive love, and the inexpressible call to create salvation that is only complete in radical inclusion. It is where I first learned of an unconditionally loving God. They are intimately aware and present with us. It was sad to think of those who see this community as one where they have to barricade themselves away, unwilling to hear witness that might challenge their view, and so afraid of the power of women witnesses that they called three police units to remove us before they could leave.

Then we did leave, to share our witness with those who would listen.

Please be a witness for how and where God is.

Please be a witness for what and who calls you to be where you are, to be what and who you are.

Please be a witness to bring God into the world, even in the face of denial.

 

There is a more extensive discussion concerning this on the Latter Day Faith podcast… https://www.latterdayfaith.org/2021/0...

This is the excellent article by Jana Riess… https://religionnews.com/2021/04/22/m...

 

A Letter About Church Covid Policy

I was recently in a Relief Society presidency meeting where several concerns about in-person meetings were brought up. I typed up many of my own concerns in the letter below.  I was able to discuss it with my Relief Society President. I think it helped her to process all the many changes happening at church and also prepared her to use her voice in leadership meetings. Additionally, I sent it to my Bishop and Stake President. I don’t know whether or not my Bishop had a chance to read my letter before our ward’s devotional today, but he ended the meeting with clear directions that no one should feel pressured to attend church in-person with the up-coming changes. He also shared some beautiful words about unity and expressed a willingness to listen to concerns. He didn’t take much time, but it makes me feel much more hopeful that, at least locally, my concerns will be heard.

*****

24 April 2021

“For what man among you having twelve sons, and is no respecter of them, and they serve him obediently, and he saith unto the one: Be thou clothed in robes and sit thou here; and to the other: Be thou clothed in rags and sit thou there—and looketh upon his sons and saith I am just? Behold, this I have given unto you as a parable, and it is even as I am. I say unto you, be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine.” Doctrine and Covenants 28:26-27

Here in Michigan, covid numbers are scary high. Younger people who haven’t had a chance to be vaccinated have particularly high infection rates.  Many middle and high schools closed their in-person option and cancelled athletics after spring break. School policies might not be perfect, but I trust people who make the school policies for their job a whole lot more than church volunteers. Last weekend our Stake hosted an in-person (outdoor) youth activity, food included. I hate that youth who are high-risk for covid, or live with people who are high-risk, or need to quarantine, or are simply not comfortable attending in-person events during a surging pandemic, were excluded. This weekend there will be a stake in-person indoor youth fireside (thankfully with a virtual option this time.) No masking or physical distancing expectations were communicated to me for either event.

Joseph Smith led the church by teaching correct principles and allowing people to govern themselves. I wish church leadership would give some guiding principles to help local leaders decide when and how to safely hold in-person meetings. Every time I’ve asked my local leaders what type of metrics are being used to decide to return to in-person meetings, there has been NO mention of covid case levels or a downward trend of new cases or levels of vaccination rates. They have always just said that church leadership higher up is requiring it. Sometimes they apologetically add that attendance numbers are abysmal and they are worried people won’t come back to church. I want to trust that church leaders care more about my safety and wellbeing than a number on their report. Right now, I’m not sure that I do.

As a Relief Society councilor, I understand that local church leaders are feeling pressure from the Area Presidency to start holding hybrid in-person/virtual second hour by the middle of May. Making plans to open up more church meetings while schools are closing feels pretty absurd. I very much hope that covid cases go down quickly. By mid-May, people who were able to get a shot the very first week vaccines were available to the general public will be fully immunized. But many people were not able to get an appointment that early, and children still cannot be vaccinated. Maybe some of my hesitance is from change fatigue: our school district just changed schedules three times in four weeks. I know many people are struggling with isolation and need to be with other people. I don’t understand why leadership is pushing to emphasize larger ward-wide meetings instead of the Ministering program. Ministering involves small groups, and it can be tailored to the needs of the individuals. It strengthens relationships between ward members, maintains a tie to the church, and helps people feel seen.

It is also my understanding that the Area Presidency has instituted the policy that only people who attend church in-person can give talks and bear testimony. Our ward’s hybrid devotionals seemed to be working okay before this policy went into effect. This policy makes me sad because now the people who remain virtual are even harder to see, hear, and connect with. If Jesus needed to stay virtual, we would not hear his voice. This breaks my heart. When we exclude people from participation, it’s like excluding Jesus. “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Matthew 25:40

I want church to be a place where all people (with all their different needs) feel loved and valued. I’m worried our ward is dividing into an in-person group and a virtual group. I don’t want that; I want us to be one big I-care-about-you group. I recognize that I don’t have the full context in which leadership decisions are made. Communicating more clearly about the principles and reasoning behind covid procedures and church policies would help build trust and understanding. Thank you for your hard work and service during such challenging, ever-changing times.

New Magazine Subscription Sponsorship Program – Apply ASAP for Spring 2021

We want everyone who would like a subscription to the Exponent II Magazine to have access, regardless of financial circumstances. To better support our community, we have started a new magazine sponsorship program to pair those in need with those who can donate a year-long subscription.

If you do not subscribe to the magazine because you are unable to afford a subscription at this time, but would like support, apply here.

If you are in a position to sponsor a subscription for someone else, please apply here.

Cover art by Herikita

Any subscriptions that come in before April 25th will receive a copy of the Spring 2021 issue, which dives into the complexity of family history. This forthcoming issue includes a letter from the editor, poetry, personal essays, work by folks such as cover-artist Herikita and featured artist Sara Lynne Lindsay, an interview with historian Ardis E. Parshall, and Sareta Dobbs’s account of being the first Black sister missionary called on an LDS mission—a history which has never been published before.

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Ma’Khia Bryant – Say Her Name

On April 20, 2021, 20 minutes before the Derek Chauvin verdict was read (guilty on all 3 counts), police officers in Columbus, Ohio shot and killed a 16-year-old black girl, Ma’Khia Bryant. Bryant had called the police herself because two other girls were physically assaulting her with a knife. Bryant was in foster care and in the custody of Children’s Services. The day of victory for a white officer finally being held accountable for killing a black man was tempered by another execution of a black life by police.

At about the same time yesterday I started receiving text messages from my husband about our 12-year-old son. His friend, who he rides the bus with and walks home with every day, has been being bullied for the last few weeks by two boys in our neighborhood. They have been calling him ethnic and gender slurs and finally the friend couldn’t take it anymore. He had given my son his cell phone to record the boys taunting him. The friend stood up for himself and the boys started physically assaulting him. The fight stopped when one of our neighbors called the police and the bullies ran home. The officers had my son fill out a witness statement and my husband, who works from home because of COVID-19, was able to stand with him and give support to his friend and his friend’s guardians. Much like Bryant, this friend has lived a hard life and does not live with his biological parents.

When I got home from work I had a discussion with my son about white privilege. At no time did I as a mother worry that the police were going to roll up on the scene where the fight occurred and murder my white son. My son is the exact same age as Tamir Rice when he was shot and killed by police. I told him about Ma’Khia and as a foster child maybe her life hadn’t been that much different than his friend’s. They’ve both suffered losses in their biological families that led them to not being in the custody of their parents.

One thing I know for sure is that 16-year-old girls defending themselves against knife attacks don’t deserve to be murdered by the very people they called for help. I hope in the coming days we learn more about Ma’Khia’s life and not just about the horrific way in which it ended. “A woman who said she was Bryant’s aunt expressed great anger at the scene, saying her niece was a loving person who didn’t deserve to die ‘like a dog in the street.'” a news outlet reported.

I hope my fellow white people are sitting with this today and contemplating why they are not afraid of their children being killed “like a dog in the street” when they encounter the police. If black parents are having to instruct their children how not to get killed, we white parents should at least clear the low bar of talking to our children about racism, white supremacy, and white privilege.

As the apostle President Dallin H. Oaks said in a talk back in October 2020 – Black Lives Matter.

The Convenient Mourner

 

When I first joined the church almost four years ago, I entered the baptismal font believing that I was more prepared than the average convert. Before making the decision to be baptized, my investigative stage lasted longer than most who took lessons with the missionaries on my island at the time.

As a former journalism student, I knew the importance of gathering research and leads that would allow me to write an impressive article. I adopted this thinking as I took part in each lesson, asking the questions which I believed would allow me to know what I was setting myself up for. 

Still, I knew I couldn’t take the missionaries’ word at surface level. I donned my investigative hat and began searching for unbiased information about the church. During that time, I called off three baptismal dates as I prayed for inspiration which would determine whether I joined the church or not. 

After what seemed like an eternity and after researching the church from an unbiased perspective, I eventually joined the church on December 18, 2016. Although my baptism was dramatic by most standards, I never questioned my decision to join the church. Four years into the future, I have second guessed my membership more times than I can count on my hands and toes, yet I know that something is keeping me here in the gospel. 

You may be reading this and wondering how the title of this article connects with my baptism. It actually has everything to do with it. 

When we are baptized into the church, we are informed that our decision to “enter the fold” means that we take upon ourselves the name of Christ. It’s been a long time since I’ve been baptized so I can’t run down the full list of things that we promise during that sacred moment, but I do know one of the most important things which we aspire to do throughout our lives as members on our covenant path is that we “mourn with those who mourn.”

Ding! Ding! Ding! 

In my four years as a member, I’ve heard that phrase repeated more than people quoting 1 Nephi 3:7. In my eyes, it’s been tossed around like a hot potato until it’s lost its true meaning.  Afterall, what does it mean to mourn with those who mourn in 2021?

As a saint of color and one of the few LDS influencers sharing gospel messages on Instagram via my account @sassydaysaint, I find that mourning has taken on a new meaning. It has become performative, a tiny black square with no thought or meaning behind it. It has appeared on timelines in an effort to be fake-woke or to be down with the cause for as long as the topic is relevant. 

I’ve recognized that “mourning with those who mourn” only applies when it suits the majority and most of the times those who are white, white- passing or higher up on the hierarchy of races are seen as the only mouthpieces that matter. Those who fall outside of those groups are often left screaming to a deaf audience where our words will never be recognized as important unless they come from an LDS celebrity, an apostle or even the prophet. 

Since I love social experiments, I put this theory into action during General Conference in October 2020 posting a comment to the church’s official Instagram page in response to a relevant and needed comment from President Nelson talk as it related to race. Immediately, I began to increase in followers who started to trickle in as my comment on the church’s Instagram account seemed most relevant in theory yet seemed impractical once conference had ended. Slowly but surely, those new followers trickled away, their fake-wokeness on full display. 

During this, I asked myself several questions.  Does wokeness have a time limit? It doesn’t. Does mourning with those that mourn only matter for white voices and leaves marginalized members of the church out in the cold? I am still struggling with this question. I see the polar differences when black voices are involved. We are always portrayed as over-passionate, and, in most eyes, we should be more passive if we want our points to come across.  The last question I ask myself deals a lot with how we talk about mourning. In 2021, is the convenient mourning acting with Christ’s love towards marginalized communities, or are they only concerned with their own self-interests?

It’s often hard for saints of color to connect with the gospel where our voices often are “token” and are seen as representing an entire community even if our experiences in the gospel are vastly difference depending on our geographical location and other economic factors. In a gospel which we believe to be the most correct and restored, the voices of persons of color matter just as much especially in this divisive racial climate.

It’s not good enough to be the convenient ally. Allyship is not performative, and neither is it selfish nor only concerned with one’s own self-interest. It exists to champion for all even if it forces us to examine our biases or grey areas where we may be blindly accepting negative societal attitudes simply for the sake of soothing our own egos.

So instead of proudly announcing that we are “mourning with those who mourn” maybe it’s time that we reflect on whether we are prepared to do the work towards understanding the experiences of saints of color existing within predominately white spaces.

Can a Woman Be Friends with her Stake President Like a Man Can?

These are just some stock photos of priesthood leaders from online, but they all seem pretty happy to be with each other.

I wrote this blog post several weeks ago, before the announcement of a membership council for Natasha Helfer on April 18th (the evening before this posts). I believe the ideas I talk about below are relevant to her story, because Natasha’s stake president was also the boss of her soon to be ex-husband. Her relationship with their priesthood leader isn’t the same as his relationship to him, and whether that ties into the unique timing of this council is impossible to know. 

My husband recently received a phone call from a counselor in our stake presidency. He was being extended a covid-era calling to be a counselor in the new Elder’s Quorum presidency in our ward. Afterwards, he commented to me about what a nice man the counselor was, and that he’d enjoyed talking to him.

Our stake presidency is very new, having just been called during the last stake conference. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t very sad to see the old presidency go (I’d had serious concerns with their leadership), and I think my husband was happy to offer me good news about the new stake leaders. My husband had also heard the new president speak in a meeting I’d missed, and told me, “I think you’ll really like him!”. I cyber stalked my new stake president on Facebook (it turned out we have multiple friends in common), and I agreed that in general, he seems like a good guy.

I told my husband, “You know, I think I’d actually be friends with this new stake president if we met somewhere. He seems nice and level headed.” But then I thought more and added, “Unfortunately we could never be friends now! If we met each other, there’d be this crazy power dynamic because he’s the stake president and I’m a member of his stake. No matter what, he’s now my priesthood authority and he’ll see me as his responsibility. He would never see me as his equal, and I couldn’t be friends with him mentally presiding over me.”

My husband said, “That’s crazy. Of course you could be friends. He’s not going to think he has power over you or that you aren’t his equal. He’s called to serve you.” I must’ve looked skeptical, because he added, “You’re a girl scout leader, Abby. What if you were asked to be in charge of all of the girl scouts in Utah? Would you think you were better than them, or would you just think about serving them and doing good things for their lives? That’s all the stake president is going to do!”

Well, I disagree with my husband. His comparison of me as a girl scout leader to this new man as a stake president doesn’t feel like a similar situation to me at all. As a volunteer girl scout leader, there’s nothing that tells me I am the only one who can fill that particular calling, or that I have a divine potential to fill this role.

On the other hand, the stake president has been told that the supreme being of the entire universe has personally hand picked him to be the authority over my spiritual life. He’s been called by a general authority (who was called by God’s one true prophet on earth) to be placed in charge of my spiritual welfare. He sits on the stand of any meetings we both attend and presides over everything said and done there.  He chooses who my bishop will be, who in turn chooses my female leaders. He has the authority to lay his hands on my head and speak the words of God to direct my path, while I only have the ability to say, “Hi, hope you have a good weekend!”, back to him.

He has a volunteer staff that will contact me and set an appointment if he wants to meet with me. If I want to meet with him, I have to contact his secretaries to schedule it. I covenanted in the temple not to speak ill of him, but he never did that about me. If there was a disagreement between what I believe as a female member of the church and what he believes as my male priesthood authority, almost everyone in our stake would side with him because of our relative positions of power.

He stands up and speaks in meetings that hundreds of my neighbors and friends attend, and no matter what he says they’ll take notes and try to implement it into their lives. If I say something even vaguely contradictory (like, “He’s an awesome leader, but I do think some stake programs he created could be improved for better gender parity next time”) those same people would bend over backwards to defend him and the way he tried doing something, rather than dare take my ideas up to him as constructive feedback.

Could anyone ever really become friends with their stake president? How could we, with that sort of power differential?

But wait – maybe men can be friends with their stake president! My husband seemed to think it was possible, and that it was odd I didn’t agree. And you know – even putting aside the lack of worry about adulterous affairs, men are on a much more even ground with their leaders. They all hold the same priesthood. They’ve all been in priesthood quorums together since they were in 6th grade. My husband is supporting the stake president right now and hey, you never know – someday my husband might be HIS stake president in reverse. Other men in the ward might’ve already served in a stake presidency or on the high council themselves. It’s a rotating club that they’ve all either been in, or have the distinct possibility of being in at a future date.

The men have all experienced giving blessings to other people. Many of them served two year missions and experienced baptizing converts and their own children. They can say, “I know what it’s like to be the priesthood authority”, even if it’s as simple as once having been a male college student tracked down by desperate female dorm mates who needed a late night blessing for a sick roommate.

I literally cannot relate to any of these male experiences. I have always been the one seeking out a priesthood leader for a blessing of counsel or repentance, and never once in my life will I ever be the person someone comes to for that. I might be a Relief Society president or day, but I will still have to refer the women in my organization to my male leaders for blessings, confessions and repentance, or the final word on doctrine. I will never have the kind of authority they have.

So could I be friends with my new stake president? Yes, if we met in a neutral location, perhaps we could have a semblance of a friendship. Maybe if our kids were both on the same sports team and we sat by each other at games, or if we planned a neighborhood BBQ together, we could be friends in those circumstances.

But in the back of my head, I’d always be wondering what he was thinking about. Is he trying to be friends with me to fellowship me because he wants to correct my beliefs about women and the priesthood? (I think women should be ordained. If would be great!)  Does he believe that God left the seat next to me open on the bleachers for him to sit, specifically because he’s now in charge of saving my soul? Did someone send him my Exponent blog posts where I complained just a little too much about the patriarchal nature of the church, and is he feeling me out for a future disciplinary council? There’d be so much to panic about on a regular basis.

And for him, would he always be thinking he needs to slip some gospel words of wisdom into our conversations because that’s his job as my stake president? Would he be offering silent frantic prayers about what message God wants him to deliver to me to fix my fractured testimony? Would he leave our interactions and have a sleepless night because he failed to say the right thing that would set me back on the unquestioning faithful path, and a better priesthood leader should’ve had his calling instead of him?

It’s too bad really, that our church priesthood hierarchy sets men up in positions of power where they can’t just be normal people anymore. But for men, their shared priesthood responsibilities and life experiences, combined with the lack of fear about affairs or adultery, means they CAN be friends with their stake presidents – in a way no woman will ever be able to have a relationship with her priesthood leadership. I wish more men would understand this very fundamental difference in the experience of women in the church compared to theirs. We do not experience our church membership or interactions with our leaders in the same way at all, and we never will as long as they are all one big exclusive club… of only men.

Prayer for Grief from Sin

I am overwhelmed by the injustices of this week. The trial of Derek Chauvin is coming to an end and it is unclear if there will be justice for the murder of George Floyd. Police shot and killed Daunte Wright during a traffic stop. In a different kind of violence, Natasha Helfer Parker is being called to a church court to account for the messages of healing and wholeness that she has been giving those of us on the fringes of Mormonism. Anti-transgender bills work their way through too many legislative bodies. All of this is devastating. I have no hot takes or special insight. I am grieving.

Pray with me.

God of Liberation,

In this moment of global pandemic,
In this moment of pervasive injustice,
In this moment of fear and unrest,
We grieve.

We grieve the systems of violence at work in our country.
We grieve the systems of exclusion at work in our church.
We are overwhelmed with these griefs
That sit on top of the pandemic ones,
The personal ones,
And the ones that linger because the mountain of grief is too high.

Where are you, God, in all of this?
Where is your justice?
Your hope?
Where are your compassion and peace?

Help us to locate our spiritual imaginations
In the middle of the discomfort of all we are experiencing
Move us to put our spiritual imaginations to work
In service of undoing our racism
In caring for the poor and the sick
In turning away from the false idols of homophobia and transphobia
That lead us into the sin of self-deception, where we think we are doing good and right when we exclude people on the margins.

Guide us to imagine a church where all are welcome
Guide us to imagine ourselves creating and receiving that welcome
Guide us to imagine loving our neighbor as God has asked and Christ has modeled
Guide us to imagine and embrace a God who rejects bigotry in all its forms.

Give us the courage to reflect on the ways in which we are the oppressor
And move us to join in the personal and systemic work of liberation
From the injustices that flourish around us.
Be with as as we learn to affirm the inherent worth and dignity of all of our siblings in Christ.

God, help us to hear your call to build a better world.

Amen.