Exponent II's Blog, page 155

Relief Society Lesson: Embrace the Future with Faith by Russell M. Nelson

[image error]by Preethi B. Harbuck

President Nelson’s central points in his talk:

Create places of security
Prepare your mind to be faithful to God
Never stop preparing – never be complacent

I’d like to start by reading some stories. If you’ve read President Nelson’s talk, I invite you to consider how these stories are related.

These stories epitomize three ways that President Nelson suggested we can prepare to embrace the future with faith – by creating places of security, by preparing our minds to be faithful to God, and by continuing to prepare and never giving up.

Create Places of Security

READ “The Heroic Daughters” in Girls Who Choose God: Stories of Strong Women in the Book of Mormon.

The heroic daughters could have just run and tried to escape themselves. Instead, they created literal places of security for their entire families. They took bold risks in order to achieve security and acceptance for ALL of their family – not just themselves.

Tell or read the story of Ruth and Naomi.

There are many ways to create places of security – the primary one being LOVE. Naomi clearly created a place of security for Ruth – so much so that Ruth clung to her and did not want to depart back to her own land.

Can you think of other women in the scriptures who created places of security? How did they do it?
What about women in your lives? How have they created places of security for their children, parents, friends, coworkers, etc.?
How about YOU? How have you created places of security? When have you placed the needs of your family above your own? When have you established boundaries to create safe spaces for yourself? What is one way you can work to create a place of security?

READ Jutta Busche – pg. 234 in At the Pulpit: 185 Years of Discourses by Latter-day Saint Women. When she and her husband became temple president and matron, Pres. Hinckley advised her, “The most important thing is to have love and love and love.” That’s true for all of our safe spaces.

Prepare Your Mind and Never Be Complacent

READ various paragraphs from At the Pulpit pg. 157-158. Sister Sharp shares the knowledge we are to seek. By preparing our minds, we’re better able to go forward with faith. Knowledge of the scriptures, knowledge of the doctrines of Christ help prepare us for this life and the life to come.

Going back to Ruth, she also prepared through learning – she learned the traditions and language of Naomi’s people. She reached beyond her own culture to a new one and expanded her mind.

READ Mary & Martha from Girls Who Choose God: Stories of Courageous Women in the Bible.

What other women in the scriptures or in the modern church have pursued learning, either academically or through the doctrines of Christ?
When was a time you made time for gospel learning? How has learning and education helped you prepare for the future?

TELL story of Corrie Ten Boom – Dutch watchmaker (first female), helped Jews escape Holocaust, was imprisoned along with family members, father and sister died, continued the work of God and of helping others for good by setting up a rehab center for concentration camp survivors

Closing

Embrace those turbulent times and the impact we can have during them – embrace the future with faith. Close with Jutta B. Busche’s story in At the Pulpit of being tied to the tree, but real learning happens in times of hardship (pg. 234-235)

#givethanks + American Thanksgiving ≠ Worldwide Church

I was born in the US, but haven’t lived there in twenty some-odd years. I’m not an ex-pat, I’m an immigrant to a different country. And like many immigrants, I brought some of my traditions with me. American Thanksgiving is among those traditions.

 

Thanksgiving has always been my favourite holiday. When I was a child, I loved catching up with my cousins and listening to my parents and aunts and uncles laughing and talking. I loved eyeing the pies and wondering which one  -or two- from which I might be allowed to secure a small slice. Later, as a college student far from home, I enjoyed participating in the Thanksgivings of generous friends, and as a YSA, I loved volunteering at a foodbank sponsored by the NAACP, even when I went home to a dinner of microwave popcorn.

 

One memorable time, I was invited to Thanksgiving on the Wednesday, or day before the official Turkey day. At that time, I was newly divorced and living in San Diego. My friend’s sister was visiting from another state, and in order to get the most affordable flight back, she was flying out Thursday. So my friend, her spouse, her child, her sister and I shared an amazing dinner together on Wednesday. After her sister left the following day, I went over to their place just hang out. By mid-afternoon, we decided that the best cure to our turkey hangover was Mexican food. Plus, Sizzler, and even Burger King and McDonald’s were closed. So we dashed out to a Mexican fast food place. We quickly found that the place was full—and the Mexican food, like always, was crazy delicious. But I also learned that sometimes, even in America, it isn’t “Thanksgiving Day” for everyone.

 

I’ve since lived in a few different countries, including Canada, where I loved having thanksgiving in October… and again in

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This is a photo of my dog. He makes me feel happy and thankful. There is no other reason for this photo in this post whatsoever.

November. Because why not? As American Thanksgiving is only recognized as a public holiday in the United States, I’ve most often opted to have “my” Thanksgiving on the Saturday prior to the fourth Thursday in November, possibly inspired by that Mexican food Thanksgiving. This year was no different, but instead of a massive feast at my house, my family and I made all of the trimmings, delivered “Thanksgiving dinners” to friends, then went home to eat.

 

I loved it. And I love Thanksgiving.

 

And yet… I have really struggled with the church’s #givethanks campaign.

 

Don’t get me wrong—I really needed and appreciated a facebook feed break from political commentary and angry “fake news” accusations.  But in the age of the #humblebrag, #givethanks runs dangerously close to offering a soap box to the braggarts (swaggerers, boasters, braggadocios- you know those folks) among us.

 

I’ve heard from friends who are single or married, yet in marital strife, feeling disassociated and lesser when so many of the #givethanks posts are spouses congratulating themselves for having chosen such wonderful partners. I’ve shared the bitterness when people offer thanks for “God blessing them with children,” wherein they intentionally or unintentionally imply that those with infertility or are childless are not “blessed” by God (spoiler alert: infertile and childless couples are immensely blessed, too. Maybe even more than child-filled folks). I’ve seen or heard others posts that are equally cringe-worthy from the benign (“I love the Book of Mormon #givethanks”) to the utterly worldly (“My recent trip to Europe! #givethanks” and “I love my new hot tub! #givethanks”).

 

And yet… there are posts I’ve loved. Like the one by a friend whose husband is home from hospital. And another friend who is grateful for her 54th round of chemotherapy. And yet another friend who wrote the most uplifting words about her gratitude for water. Beautiful, simple, abundant, spiritual, water.

 

But mostly, I am uncomfortable with the timing of the whole #givethanks thing. Because again, American Thanksgiving is only recognized as a public holiday in the United States. And the majority of church members are not in the United States… and the campaign feels a little too close to American Thanksgiving to not be American. But here we are, participating in a global church by doing something that feels… American. Very American. Narrowly American. Crazy amounts of American. Like, shall we all break out in a rendition of Yankee Doodle Dandy?

 

People who live outside of the US are not stupid. We know when American Thanksgiving is. We also know that we don’t celebrate it any more than Americans celebrate St. George’s Day, Waitangai Day, Canadian Thanksgiving, Australia Day, or any other number of nationalistic/patriotic holidays that might inspire a #givethanks campaign.

 

[image error]So whilst I wish everyone well, and I truly love American Thanksgiving, I wish the church chose a non-American frame in which to parlay global gratitude. To me, it would do so much more to share our testimonies of Christ by having a #givethanks campaign on (for example) Candlemas (2 February), rather than express gratitude so close to an American national holiday which only serves to highlight just how crushingly American the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints still is.

Guest Post: The Photo That Changed My World

[image error]by Jenn Nielsen

I’ve always imagined, a tiny baby wrapped tightly in a white blanket with a small blue and pink stripe, pink or blue cap on the baby’s head. A newborn’s first portrait, everyone has one; everyone but me. I have always been jealous of these photos and I often wondered, desperately hoped, that somewhere existed a well-worn baby photo of me. A picture treasured and deeply loved. You see, I was placed for adoption at four days old and in Utah, in 1980, all adoptions were closed. Little to no information passed from the LDS adoption agency to my adoptive parents. I knew I was born in northern Utah, that my biological mother had ties to the LDS church and that both of my biological parents were very young and very blonde. Nothing more.

I have always wondered about the girl who carried me, who gave me life. As a girl I would make up elaborate stories describing who she was and what she was doing now. My favorite being that time I tried to convince my friends in third or fourth grade that I was Candace Cameron’s twin (we looked a lot alike in the early years of Full House) and that while ‘my sister’ was on TV ‘our mom’ couldn’t take care of both of us, but eventually she’d come back. I was sure they believed me.

Searching for my biological family has been a deep desire since my teen years. I wanted to find who I came from, for a lot of reasons. First of all, having a medical history would bring peace of mind and honestly? It would just make life easier. Having to explain time and time again why I have no idea if heart disease, or cancer, or allergies run in my DNA can be deeply intrusive. And, each time I see a new Dr. or even a new nurse in a Dr.’s office I’ve been going to for years, it happens again and I am reminded of all I don’t know. I am grateful for those who accept the shortened answer without trying to delve deep into the whys and how could I know nothing about something so very important. Honestly, when thinking of having my own children, this lack of medical background knowledge is something that has weighed heavily on my mind. Could I unknowingly be carrying a gene that could cause my child a potential lifetime of medical issues and even death?

On a more personal level and much more important to me, I wondered if I look like her. Do we share the same eyes? Or laugh? Do we have the same interests or desires? Did she later have other children who would be my half siblings? Now I understand that I have always been searching for a sense of belonging, roots that extend from my genetic DNA back in time to the women who built the family that created me. Through my lifetime, I have spent hours searching people’s faces and movements, their speech patterns and bone structure to detect how they are related. I must admit I’m pretty good and more often than not, I can identify biological family members in a crowd. But also, this superpower developed because, subconsciously, what I was searching for in the sea of strangers was me.

Although my goal was never to leave my adopted family or replace them, there has always been a deep sense of longing for that connection with my first family. I decided I wouldn’t start looking until I had my adoptive mom’s approval. It was very important to me that I not cross that boundary without her knowing my intention and giving me her ok. After a long talk and receiving what I needed, the ball was in my court. And, almost instantly, I realized I wasn’t as prepared as I thought to actually move forward. Maybe waiting for approval kept me safe from facing what could come next. I wanted to start the search and I was scared, scared of all the ‘what if’ scenarios that might become my reality. It took a couple of years to take the leap of faith, to trust that no matter the outcome, it was time.

A year after connecting with a wonderful angel who helped me search for my parents and completing a DNA test, I had given up hope on any kind of a breakthrough. (The joys of deep Mormon and polygamous roots means that most of us are related somehow which caused my family tree to grow sideways without a clear picture of how it all fit together. This made my search even more difficult.) One uneventful evening I received an email with two pictures attached of women believed to be great aunts in my biological family tree. I received that email at work. I sat in stunned silence and I couldn’t look away. Finally at thirty six, I saw what I had been looking for my entire life, my full cheeks, my eyes, my turned-up nose and lips. I saw me and I knew that I was real.

I can’t adequately describe what happened in that moment. I stared into the eyes of women I will never know and yet instantly knew. I came from them. An immediate sense of grounding occurred. A sense of belonging I had never known washed over me. The feeling of a deep exhale after holding my breath for a lifetime. Beginning steps on a journey of healing.

What I know now is that we each have a deep biological need to see ourselves in someone else. Those small cues from our DNA tell us that we came from someone, that we belong.

November is adoption awareness month. And while the adoption process is 100% better than it was, it still has even farther to grow to protect all parts of the adoption triad. Frequently the voice of the adoptee is unheard or silenced because, like me, we don’t want to hurt or disappoint anyone in our stories. We carry the deep sorrow and pain of the family who said good-bye, and the family who accepted us as part of their own. We balance the intense pressure of hope and integration into the family that raised us and the anguish of those who couldn’t. Our stories are vital and must be spoken.

Raised in the Salt Lake Valley, Jenn is a product of the LDS adoption system. She is a lifetime searcher, learner and healer, working to find answers to questions deep within herself and supporting others through their own personal life journeys as well.

Performing #givethanks

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Photo by Simon Maage on Unsplash

 

Since Saturday, I have had my social media feeds filled to the brim with posts tagged #givethanks. People who I haven’t seen on Facebook or Instagram in months are suddenly popping in to express gratitude, usually for the people in their lives, the privileges they enjoy, or the things they’ve learned out of hardship during this especially taxing year.

I love gratitude as a concept. I have participated in gratitude rituals off and on throughout my life – keeping gratitude journals, saying prayers of only gratitude, making a conscious effort to show gratitude in my interactions with others. I think a focus on, and expression of, gratitude changes us for the better. And so I found myself feeling rather conflicted when these #givethanks posts were making me so completely grumpy. And when I thought about it, I decided it was the performative aspect of it that was really stressing me out.

We perform Mormonism in so many ways – how we dress, how we act, how and when we marry, whether we have kids (and how many). We have a whole weird vocabulary that doesn’t map on to the rest of the Christian world, like “wards” and “stakes” and “relief society,” that sets us apart as Mormons. Sure, there’s going to be some variation in how Mormonism is performed, but on the whole, there’s a reason you can pick out a Mormon at any airport.

So in this seven-day campaign blitz, Mormons are not only expressing gratitude, but we are also performing our in-group status. We’re showing that not only are we grateful, we’re willing to do what the prophet says, even if it means posting on social media when we normally don’t, or adding a prescribed hashtag and message to our already-regular posts. We perform our Mormon-ness by showing obedience. I think this is a regular feature of our high-demand faith.  When I was a teenager, this meant that you showed that you were willing to take out that second pair of earrings. You’re not going to find women clutching cups of coffee at a morning service project. When a person decides to swap their garments out for regular underwear, that’s not just a personal choice in fabric or fit – that is a decision to stop performing Mormonism, and I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard women say that a certain person has left the church (or will soon) because they stopped wearing their garments.

All social systems have some level of performativity – in today’s world, women often have longer hair, whereas men tend to keep it short. But if you see a man with long hair, or a woman with a pixie, you don’t usually assume that they’re performing a different gender. But because Mormonism is a poorly-differentiated social group, we require a high degree of conformity and compliance within our group, and there are high social consequences to nonconformity. Showing up to the Relief Society potluck with a beer in one hand wouldn’t just be perceived as an unusual choice in beverage, it would be perceived as a hostile display of not performing Mormonism, and people would interact with that person very differently that day and going forward.  Similarly, there are tremendous benefits to looking and acting the part – Mormons do a great job of caring for our own. We easily make friends, we have built-in social groups almost anywhere on the globe, and we can count on somebody to bring us a cup of sugar or care for our kids on a moment’s notice. The degree to which that extends past our in-group of Mormonism varies, I think, but I’ve had several people express awe at how nice it must be to move to a new place and have a community into which I could fit fairly seamlessly.  And fitting into that group requires some degree of showing that you belong.  The performance of Mormonism says to the group, “I share your values, and you can trust that we have this in common.” Similarly, the outward nonperformance of Mormonism creates rifts that vary – some people leave the church and no longer are accepted by their families and friends, and others are still included, but lose a certain amount of moral authority and spiritual capital.

For many who have left the church (or who are leaving, or who perpetually reside in the borderlands), this #givethanks campaign has been really anxiety-producing. And it’s not because we hate gratitude. It’s because this campaign is a reminder that there is an in-group and an out-group, and that we are in the out-group. It reminds us that our unwillingness to perform Mormonism the prescribed way has caused really difficult social consequences, not to mention a lot of spiritual and emotional pain. I don’t think it’s the only reason these messages have struck a nerve.  Maybe we see our former selves in those posts, happy to receive and act on guidance to incorporate more gratitude into our lives, and grieve the simplicity of it. Maybe some of us see the toxic positivity, the ‘there-is-sunshine-in-my-soul’ messages that led us to “fake it ‘til we make it,” presenting a fresh and optimistic look while ignoring or denying any negativity in our lives. Or maybe we just remember that we used to be part of a club, and there were tremendous upsides to feeling included and a part of something, and we’re not in that club anymore or to the same extent.

And that’s a tricky bit of it – we’ve all heard the adage that “people can leave Mormonism, but they can’t leave Mormonism alone.” Part of that is because Mormonism is more than a set of religious beliefs; it’s a cultural and spiritual identity. Being part of such a high-demand religion means that it’s excruciatingly difficult to extricate all the Mormonism out when you choose to, almost like picking grains of sand out of a section of grass. And many of us don’t want to lose everything – most post-Mormons I know want to retain certain quirky traditions or character traits, even if they choose not to participate in Mormonism in other ways. One way I’ve seen this is through post-Mormons using the “givethanks” hashtag, some to “give thanks” that they found their way out of the church, but others to express gratitude unironically, finding that an emphasis on gratitude is something they kept from their time in Mormonism.  But for a lot of us, this #givethanks social media blitz is a reminder that we have consciously chosen how we do/do not perform Mormonism, and it’s a reminder of the grief and pain of the process of deconstructing and/or reconstructing our spiritual and religious identities.

What do you think of the #givethanks campaign?

 

Sacred Music Sunday: For the Beauty of the Earth

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Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Gratitude is both a simple and a difficult topic. It’s simple, in that we’ve been taught since childhood to say “thank you” when someone does something nice for us or gives us something. It’s complicated in that when things are going badly it can be hard to find things to be thankful for. It’s extra complicated in the era of social media because expressing gratitude for one’s good fortune can come across as bragging or rubbing it in the faces of those who are less fortunate.

I think the scripture passage above is instructive on how one should express gratitude. Giving thanks is lumped in the same list as praying. When we pray, Jesus taught that we should do it in private and not on the street corner, and that if we do it on the street corner, we have our reward. (see Matthew 6:5-6) When we express our gratitude, we should do likewise. If someone does something nice for you, personally tell them what it means. If you’re grateful that your spouse brought you a bouquet of roses, say a heartfelt thank you; there’s no need to tell your entire Twitter following.

Just as prayers in a public setting like a church meeting are different than personal prayers, expressions of gratitude in a communal setting should be different from those in a personal setting. I really love the hymn For the Beauty of the Earth to get at this point. When I was in high school, my choir sang the John Rutter arrangement of this hymn, and I like the tune much better than the one in our hymnal.

The choral setting for this hymn fits nicely with group expressions of gratitude. We don’t all have a nice house, a good job, a supportive spouse, or any other number of things that someone would feel fortunate to have. But we all live on this beautiful earth and experience the love of God. And that’s something worthy of joining together to #givethanks.

Transgender Day of Remembrance

Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance. It was first held November 20, 1999, marking the anniversary of Rita Hester’s death, an African American trans woman who was killed in her apartment. Now on this date each year, the lives of trans victims from the year are remembered. While I believe it’s important to say their names, I hope we can also take time to remember to see violence as a symptom of social norms, institutions, and structures and not merely reduce it to individual acts. We must also remember and examine how gender, sexual, and racial violence intersect.

Dr. Sarah Lamble, a professor of Criminology and Queer Theory, stretches the idea of remembrance to action.

What would it mean to remember in such a way that confronts structural violence (i.e., processes of domination that are socially, politically, and economically instituted over time) and requires examination of our own complicity?

None of us are innocent. We must envision practices of remembrance that situate our own positions within structures of power that authorize violence in the first place. Our task is to move from sympathy to responsibility, from complicity to reflexivity, from witnessing to action. It is not enough to simply honor the memory of the dead—we must transform the practices of the living. 1

So on this Transgender Day of Remembrance, I hope we can take a moment to transform some of our own practices. What that looks like for each person will be different. Here are some ideas:

Read the stories of transgender Mormons. (there are some in this blog post)
Explore how to become a better ally. (here is a resource from PFLAG)
Listen to podcasts on intersectionality. (such as this one from the African American Policy Forum)
Share stories with children that go beyond gender stereotypes (such as this list of diverse books)
Take time to say the names of trans victims.

This is a list of transgender persons who were killed from November 20, 2019 to November 20, 2020.*

Yunieski Carey Herrera, a 39 year old transgender Latina, was killed in Miami, Florida on November 17, 2020. She was 39 years old.

Angel Unique, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Memphis, Tennessee, on October 25, 2020. She was 25 years old.

Sara Blackwood, a transgender woman, was killed in Indianapolis, Indiana on October 11, 2020.

Brooklyn Deshuna, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Shreveport, Louisiana on October 7, 2020. She was 20 years old.

Felycya Harris, a transgender woman, was killed in Augusta, Georgia in October 2020. She was 33 years old.

Michelle Michellyn Ramos Vargas, a Puerto Rican transgender woman, was killed in San Germán, Puerto Rico on September 30, 2020. She was in her mid-30s.

Mia Green, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on September 28, 2020. She was 29 years old.

Aerrion Burnett, a Black transgender woman, was killed in independence, Missouri on September 19, 2020.

Kee Sam, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Lafayette, Louisiana on August 12, 2020.

Lea Rayshon Daye, a Black transgender woman, died in Cuyahoga County Jail in Cleveland, Ohio on August 30. She was 28 years old.

Aja Raquell Rhone-Spears, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Portland, Oregon on July 28, 2020. She also went by Rocky Rhone.

Queasha D Hardy, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Baton Rouge, Louisiana on July 27, 2020. She was 22 years old.

Dior H Ova / Tiffany Harris, a Black transgender woman, was killed in the Bronx, New York.

Marilyn Cazares, a transgender Latina, was killed in Brawley, California.

Summer Taylor, a white non-binary person, was killed in Seattle, Washington on July 4, 2020.

Bree Black, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Pompano Beach, Florida on July 3, 2020. She was 27 years old.

Shaki Peters, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Amite City, Louisiana on July 1, 2020. She was 32 years old.

Merci Mack, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Dallas, Texas, on June 30, 2020. She was 22 years old.

Brayla Stone, a Black transgender girl, was killed in Dallas, Texas on June 25, 2020. She was 17 years old.

Brian “Egypt’ Powers, a Black transgender person, was killed in Akron, Ohio on June 13, 2020. They were 43 years old.

Selena Reyes-Hernandez, a transgender woman, was killed in Chicago, Illinois on May 31, 2020. She was 37 years old.

Jayne Thompson, a white transgender woman, was killed in Mesa County, Colorado on May 9, 2020. She was 33 years old.

Riah Milton, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Liberty Township, Ohio on June 9, 2020. She was 25 years old.

Dominique “Rem’mie” Fells, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on June 9, 2020.

Tony McDade, a Black transgender man, was killed in Tallahasee Florida on May 27, 2020.

Helle Jae O’Regan, a transgender woman, was killed in San Antonio, Texas on May 6, 2020. She was 20 years old.

Nina Pop, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Sikeston, Missouri on May 3, 2020.

Penélope Díaz Ramírez, a transgender Latina, was killed in Puerto Rico on April 13, 2020.

Layla Pelaez Sánchez, a transgender Latina, was killed in Puerto Rico on April 21, 2020. She was killed with Serena Angelique Velásquez Ramos. She was 21 years old.

Serena Angelique Velázquez Ramos, a transgender Latina, was killed in Puerto Rico on April 21, 2020. She was killed with Layla Pelaez Sánchez. She was 32 years old.

Johanna Metzger, a white transgender woman, was killed in Baltimore, Maryland on April 11, 2020.

Lexi, a transgender woman, was killed in Harlem, New York on March 28, 2020. She was 33 years old.

Monika Diamond, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Charlotte, North Carolina on March 18, 2020. She was 34 years old.

Scott/Scottlynn Devore, a gender non-conforming person, was killed in Augusta, Georgia. They were 51 years old.

Yampi Méndez Arocho, a transgender Latino, was killed in Moca, Puerto Rico on March 5, 2020. He was 19 years old.

Neulisa Luciano Ruiz, a transgender Latina, was killed in Toa Baja, Puerto Rico on February 24, 2020.

Dustin Parker, a white transgender man, was killed in McAlester, Oklahoma, on January 1, 2020. He was 25 years old.

Nikki Kuhnhausen, a transgender girl, was killed in Vancouver Washington some time after her disappearance in June 2019. She was 17 years old.

Mia Perry, a Black transgender woman, was killed in Washington DC on December 29, 2019.

Yahira Nesby, a Black transgender woman, was killed in New York on December 19, 2019. She was 33 years old.

*Sourced from GLAAD

1 Retelling Racialized Violence,Remaking White Innocence:The Politics of Interlocking Oppressions inTransgender Day of Remembrance by Sarah Lamble

A Christmas Sacrament Meeting, the Sequel

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The Visitation by Philippe de Champaigne

Last Christmas, for the second consecutive year, I was charged with creating the Christmas Sacrament Meeting program in my local Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) ward as part of my calling as Ward Music Chair. I embarked on the project with a certain degree of writer’s block. What could I do that would be new and fresh (not the same as the year before)?  And while I had rewritten the story with more modern, simple language when I was charged with a Primary children’s program, and used my own contemporary  voice the time I was asked to give a Christmas talk, for a group program in the chapel with narrators I felt more comfortable pulling directly from scripture rather than asking other people to recite words from my voice.  But the Biblical source material from the gospel of Luke hadn’t change since my last Christmas program. How could I make this one different if I stayed with the scriptural text?

For awhile, I debated using the same script as the previous year and only changing the songs.  It is the same story, after all, and as proud as I was of the narration I had already written, I doubted many people would remember it well enough to notice if it were repeated.

However, I was inspired as I listened to the words of Evangelical/Episcopalian feminist theologian Rachel Held Evens and the sermons offered at her funeral in 2019.  She and others from her faith tradition would weave disparate scriptures from across different parts of the scriptural canon together, showing common themes from these surprising combinations.  I decided to do the same with my Christmas program.  I looked for imagery from the nativity story in other books of scripture—stars, night, shepherds, angels, gifts—and weaved them into my narration alongside the book of Luke.

There were also characters I had wanted to include the previous year that I hadn’t managed to fit into that half hour program, such as Elisabeth and Samuel the Lamanite, so I made sure to include them this time around (which, sadly, required me to drop other beloved characters that had made the cut last time). Our church’s use of the King James version of the Bible is a barrier to using the story of Elisabeth in a modern Christmas program; her words are somewhat unintelligible in that translation, so I substituted the New King James Version there, which better conveys the meaning of her profound testimony to modern ears.

Here is what I came up with!  (And for another alternative, here is my Christmas program from last year.)

(The videos provided are not the artists who performed in my local congregation and not necessarily the same musical arrangements.)

Opening Hymn: Hymn 208, O Little Town of Bethlehem

Sacrament Hymn: Hymn 196: Jesus, Once of Humble Birth

Administration of the Sacrament

Narrator

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9: 6)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 201, First Verse: Joy to the World

Narrator

The angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth. …And the angel said unto [Mary], “Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest and the Lord God …and of his kingdom there shall be no end.” (Luke 1:26-33)

Mary bore testimony: My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior. …For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name. And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation. (Luke 1:46-50)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 205, First Verse: Once in Royal David’s City

Narrator

The angel Gabriel told Mary: “Behold, thy cousin Elisabeth, she hath also conceived a son in her old age: and this is the sixth month with her, who was called barren. For with God nothing shall be impossible.” (Luke 1:36-37)

Mary went to Elisabeth and when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb, and Elisabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost. (Luke 1: 39-41)

Elisabeth said: “Blessed is she who believed, for there will be a fulfillment of those things which were told her from the Lord.” (Luke 1:45, NKJV)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 202, First Verse: Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful

Narrator

Samuel the Lamanite foretold that people far away from Bethlehem would see signs of Christ’s birth: For behold, there shall be great lights in heaven, insomuch that in the night before he cometh there shall be no darkness, insomuch that it shall appear unto man as if it was day. …And behold, there shall a new star arise, such a one as ye never have beheld; and this also shall be a sign unto you. (Helaman 14:3-5)

And it came to pass that the words…were fulfilled, according as they had been spoken; for behold, at the going down of the sun there was no darkness; and the people began to be astonished because there was no darkness when the night came. (3 Nephi 1: 13, 15)

Jesus taught: I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life. (John 8:12)

Special Musical Number: O Holy Night

Vocals: Young Men and Young Men Leaders, accompanied by cello

Narrator 

Jesus told his disciples: The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. (Matthew 8:20)

And yet, Jesus promised them and us: Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. (Matthew 11: 28-30)

Mary and Joseph were far from home, in Bethlehem, when Jesus was born.

And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. (Luke 2:6-7)

The Primary children are now invited to come up to the stand.

Special Musical Number: Away in a Manger

Vocals: Primary Children

Narrator 

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23: 1-4)

On the night Jesus was born, there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:8-12)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 213, First Verse: The First Noel

Narrator

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” (Luke 2:13-14)

O that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people…that they should repent and come unto our God, that there might not be more sorrow upon all the face of the earth. (Alma 29: 1-2)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 212, Third Verse: Far, Far Away on Judea’s Plains

Narrator

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? (Psalm 27:1)

And, lo, the star, which wise men saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.

When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.

And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. (Matthew 2:9-11)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 210, First Verse: With Wondering Awe

Narrator

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. (Matthew 22: 36-39)

But Jesus warned that, “Because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold.” (Matthew 24:12)

Ward Choir and Clarinet: In the Bleak Midwinter 

Narrator 

The day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. …But ye, [sisters and] brethren, are not in darkness. …Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day.

For God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Thessalonians 5:2-9)

When prompted by the conductor, please join the choir in singing the third verse of Silent Night.

Closing Hymn: Ward Choir, Joined by Congregation in Third Verse: Hymn 204: Silent Night

Closing Prayer

 

The Undisguised Brutality of our Time

[image error]Sigmund Freud and his daughter, Sophie

In January 1920, exactly one century ago, Dr. Sigmund Freud lost his daughter, Sophie, to the Spanish flu pandemic. He was unable to visit her during her time of sickness because of travel restrictions. Sound familiar? In his grief he wrote:

The undisguised brutality of our time is weighing heavily upon us. Tomorrow she is to be cremated, our poor Sunday child!”

I recently learned the story of Freud losing his 27-year-old daughter in her prime in the course of the last worldwide pandemic during a training for mental health professionals. Psychoanalytic theory has never been my bread and butter, and while I give credit where credit is due and honor Freud for the place he holds in the history of mental health, I can’t say I’ve ever particularly related to this man.

Until I saw the quote pop up on screen – “The undisguised brutality of our time is weighing heavily upon us.”

I feel the brutality of our time weighing upon me heavily. Whether it’s worrying about this COVID-19 virus infecting me or someone I love and suffering serious health consequences, my children’s schooling, my clients’ collective mental health and resilience, the endless monotony of staying at home, the inflamed political climate, or the science denialists super spreaders making this even worse, the ever-evolving quicksand of our current reality has me swimming as hard as I can against the current and still feeling like I’m sinking.

And when I feel that weight upon me I allow myself to feel my feelings while keeping an eye stretched out on the long-term perspective. This isn’t going to last forever. The Spanish flu pandemic didn’t last forever either. The fact that Freud, who spent his career studying and analyzing human behavior and feelings, was able to put to words what it feels like to endure the weight of all of this, leads me to believe we’re all going to be okay. This is only a season.

Spring 2021: Family History and Legacy

[image error]Button featuring the art of Michelle Franzoni Thorley, available at www.florafamiliar.com.

I learned family history the old-school, traditionally Mormon way: filling out hundreds of pieces of paper that went into binders full of names. Young women activities in the library, staring at microfiche. Proud stories from leaders about how they had traced multiple lines of their family back to Adam and Eve. It seemed overwhelming and strange but also beautiful and I could identify with the yearning of wanting to know about my ancestors.

As I got older, the names and birthdates became less important to me than the stories. Rather than an emphasis on charting back as far as possible, I wanted to know details to flesh out the humanity of people. I became interested in the babies who died at birth, what the people ate, what they held in their hands, what kind of sadnesses and joys they experienced. I felt my ancestors calling to me in a different way.

In the last few years, my understanding of family history has undergone another revolution, thanks to the work of Michelle Franzoni Thorley and K Dawn (check out @florafamiliar and @kdawncreates on Instagram), both artists Exponent II has recently featured. These women have taught me about the complexity of family history for people of color. I started thinking about family history in terms of legacy: what was passed down to me and what kind of ancestor I want to be. What trauma did my ancestors inherit? What did they inflict on others around them? How did that influence their children? How does it influence me? Learning about their past has helped me address and heal from wounds that I previously ignored. It has made me a better parent, creating the kind of links between the generations promised by the spirit of Elijah.

In the Spring 2021 issue of Exponent II, we want your stories of family history and legacy. For BIPOC: how have you struggled with the European-centric methods of much of the family history field? How have you liberated yourself from those norms and found meaning in your ancestry? For everyone: how have you connected to your ancestors? What have you learned about them—good or bad—that has influenced you in some way? What have you inherited? How are you trying to be a good ancestor? What kind of new traditions, whether it is Dia de Los Muertos or Santa Lucia, have you started to embrace your heritage? If you have created a chosen family, how have you adopted their traditions? Do you have a certain item in your home that is particularly meaningful because of who passed it down to you?

Submissions should be 700-2400 words and are due by January 4, 2020. They should be in Word or Google Doc form and sent to exponentiieditor AT gmail DOT com. We look forward to reading your work.

Hey Man, How Are You? (Yes of Course, Lady – That Obviously Means You!)

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On my Utah ballot at the beginning of this month, we had a constitutional amendment up for an approval vote. It looked like this: 

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A female state senator named Deidre Henderson (also Utah’s next lieutenant governor) proposed this change, which basically says, “Whenever it says “men” in the Utah constitution, let’s change it to say “people”, which will then include everyone, not just the dudes.” This amendment passed easily, with basically zero opposition. The legislature voted unanimously for the change, and the majority of Utah voters approved it. It made sense, the gendered language was outdated, and nobody objected.

(Well, *mostly* nobody objected. I did read one comment that sounded like this: “It’s fine to change this, but it’s kind of a silly thing to worry about with so many other pressing matters. It’s not like anybody reads the constitution and doesn’t understand that “men” is supposed to mean everyone.”) 

In the church, “men”, “man” and “mankind” are also constantly used to refer to both men and women. (Off the top of my head: “Adam fell that man might be.” “Men are free to choose liberty and eternal life.” “Behold, this is my work and my glory, to bring to pass the eternal life and immortality of man.”) The scriptures are full of examples of the male pronoun meaning both male and female. 

(Well, except for when “men” actually means “only men, and absolutely never women”, like when someone says “God asks men to be the holders of the priesthood”.) (PS, no actual scriptures exist anywhere that say only men should hold the priesthood.) But that’s a silly side note, so never mind!

The point is, women are constantly expected to understand that they are included in gendered language that only refers to the masculine all the time. Perhaps changing the Utah constitution is a pointless exercise indeed.  But out of curiosity, does it ever go the opposite direction? Do we ever refer to women specifically and include men under the same umbrella?

Nope! We do not. (We definitely do not.) A while back, a female Latter-day Saint friend of mine posted the following CoverGirl advertisement on her Facebook page: 

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I’d personally love to have this guy help me with my makeup.

Captioning this, she said mockingly (to the best of my recollection), “Doesn’t he understand that CoverGIRL means it’s for GIRLS? lol! Satan sure is confusing people these days!” She (and those who replied) couldn’t stop laughing (out loud, apparently) at any company or consumer dumb enough to buy into the idea that men and boys would ever use product with the word “girl” in it.

I seriously doubt she’s given much thought to how many times she’s been told SHE can become like Heavenly Father (a boy), or re-posted a meme about how “Men are that they might have joy” (and related it directly to motherhood), or, I don’t know, maybe referred to herself and all humans as the “sons of men”.

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I can’t be the only one who finds these memes amusing (I’m LOLing, even). Can anyone imagine a meme that says, “As Sisters in Zion, We’ll All Work Together” captioning an Elder’s Quorum painting a house together?

As women, we are so used to taking on masculine names we don’t even notice. But reverse it, and suddenly it’s hilarious and something to make fun of. Last year I overheard a conversation about the Netflix show “Queer Eye”. Two LDS moms nearby me were discussing the show. One of them said she really liked watching it – with the exception of Jonathan, the most flamboyant cast member who dresses in a mix of both traditionally male and female clothing. Her complaint wasn’t about his fashion however, it was about his habit of approaching other men on the show and using phrases like, “Girl, you look fabulous in that!”, or “Yes, Queen! I love it!” This woman was uncomfortable and annoyed with his regular use of female pronouns when interacting with men. 

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This is Jonathan Van Ness, the Queer Eye hairdresser that made the woman in the overheard conversation so uncomfortable (and just for the record, I love him very much).

Again, I bet this woman doesn’t give it a second thought when someone refers to a group of women she’s part of as “guys”. So why is it irritating for her to hear a man called a girl, but not for a woman to be called a “guy”? 

How about we not only change our state constitutions, but ALL of our language (church and scriptures included) to just say “people” when we mean “people”? Why don’t we stop making feminine references to men hilarious or offensive, if masculine references to women are just fine?  And why don’t we pay better attention to the hundreds of subtle nuances in our language that preference men and the male experience over everyone and everything else?  Because if our goal is actually Zion, we’re never going to get there at this rate. 

In the name of Jesus Christ, A-Women.