Exponent II's Blog, page 191

Book Review: China and the True Jesus

[image error]For those who love learning about religion and history, this book is for you. It’s about the history of Christianity in China. It begins with missionaries traveling to China in the 1800s and continues to present-day Christianity. This scholarly work explores the Christian movements that spread throughout China and the key people involved.

I didn’t know much about Chinese history, so many of the things I read in this book were new to me. One thing I found especially interesting, (because it’s similar to Joseph Smith’s first vision) was that there were others who had visions of God and Jesus. One was a king named Hong Xiuquan who had a vision in 1837. “In this vision, he had been given a sword and was told to destroy devils…” (18). Not only did he see God and Jesus, but Heavenly Mother appeared in his vision as well. Page 22 has a description of the vision and reminds me a lot of the War in Heaven. In the next century, in 1917, Wei Enbo had a similar experience and started the True Jesus Church (19). I liked this because it reminds us that God speaks to people of all cultures and religions.

Another thing I found interesting was that the Christian missionaries received medical training. Many of them worked as doctors in China, including the women. I love that this book talks a lot about women and the work they were doing. There was one instance where a doctor was asking for more funds for the women’s hospital that she was in charge of, but the men turned down her request and used the money to build a new men’s hospital instead, even though the women’s hospital needed the renovations more.

Chapter 4 is called “The Three Lives of Deaconess Yang” and focuses on the different stages of Deaconess Yang’s life. It’s an interesting story because after Yang’s husband and mother-in-law died, people weren’t very kind to her, so Yang attempted suicide (which at that time was a sign of loyalty). The suicide attempt failed but she won the honor of the people and the way opened up for her to become a nurse. My favorite part is the healing that occurred when Yang was treating a patient. It says, “she laid hands upon his head in prayer” (120). The patient immediately felt the power emanating from Yang and was healed.

These are just a few of the various fascinating stories found in this book, and I’m very pleased that many of the stories are about women. I was sad, though, to read about many of the things women had to deal with at that time and place, such as their value being tied to their husbands. There were numerous obstacles and contradictions in society the women faced, but I enjoy reading about how they overcame those things. If you love learning about how people shaped history, you will definitely enjoy this book.

Announcing the 2019 Exponent II Subscription Drive!

FOLX.

For 45 years now,  Exponent II has been tying Mormon femini[image error]sts together. Laurel Ulrich called it “a letter from an old friend,” but when I get the magazine in the mail, it’s more like a collection of thoughtful and weighty clippings, insights, poems, and illustrations from the sassiest friends I have. It makes me laugh and cry and feel things. It makes me feel like I belong.

If you aren’t subscribing, you’re missing out on that awesomeness. And if you are subscribing, you know exactly what I mean.

During the Official Christmas gift-giving season (which we maintain starts after Thanksgiving, thank you very much), we’re going to do a little something extra for those of you who subscribe, or renew your subscriptions, or give a subscription to someone you know would appreciate it: our board and bloggers have put our heads together to come up with The Most Coveted Giveaways Ever(TM). We’ll be giving out a super cool feministy item per day to one of you soul sisters–like

A Ruth Bader Ginsburg doll hand-crocheted by Margaret Olsen Hemming
A hot-off-the-presses copy of Irreversible Things, signed by author Lisa Hadley
A limited-edition print of Page Turner’s “Headmistress Harpie” to hang on your very own wall
A pair of earrings handcrafted by Polynesian artist extraordinaire Kalani Tonga
An exquisite pillow cover made by quilters-in-residence Kirsten Campbell and Pandora Brewer (I’ve seen pictures and it’s fabulous)
Sketches and note cards by our very own Linda Hoffman Kimball
…and more!

Here’s another piece of info that will make it even easier for you to push the subscribe button: prices will be going up next year to keep pace with our costs, so renewing while it’s still 2019 gets you in under the wire. But don’t do it just yet! Wait until you’ve tucked into some turkey and polished off some pie. Thanksgiving comes first. I know I’m grateful for Exponent II.

Tear Down The Wall

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It has been over 30 years since the Wall was torn down. I have been remembering so much about how my generation was impacted by The Berlin Wall, especially as I take action trying to prevent the building of a structure that would become another barrier, capitalized and referred to by more generations as The Wall – another barrier that is divisive and destructive. Another structure that will eventually need to be torn down. We will tear it down when we learn, again, that anytime we try to shut ourselves off from connecting with each other, growing in complexity and embracing diversity, we are poorer in all ways.

My father was instrumental in efforts that helped tear down the Berlin Wall. It was powerful and moving to be a part of these efforts to support non-violent actions which eventually led to that day where people on both sides of the Wall were helping each other tear it down.

No guns, no tanks, no coup.

It was a moment when enough people realized that the cost of keeping the Wall was too high, and the benefit of tearing it down was priceless.

It took the efforts of countless people to make that happen, and to create a new world which was not divided by the Berlin Wall.

I have become aware of many ways we build or are hurt by walls, both literal and figurative.

I have been able to meet, listen to and come to love many LGBTQ people in my life. These beloved friends have been so generous in sharing their journeys with me. They have taught me so much about what it takes to tear down walls.

I thought of walls coming down when I was with a dear transgender friend as she  recently let me mourn with her during a painful time. She shared how overwhelming her despair is when someone tells her she is denying who she is supposed to be, and how so many are unwilling to see that her journey to affirm her gender really is the only way she can continue to breathe. I told her how grateful I am that she is living as the person she knows herself to be. She said she could never again confine herself to being who others told her she needed to be. Trying to exist behind the walls of conforming to these restrictions was suffocating the life out of her. The cost was too high, and she tore that wall down. Now she is creating a life beyond that wall. Her courage and power inspire me.

Not once did she suggest it was up to someone else to create that world for her. She is owning her journey completely, even as she shares it and lets others help her along the way. She is not waiting for someone else to give her permission to continue stepping forward, transforming the world not only for herself, but also for all of us. Any wall torn down gives us a more connected world.

I thought of walls coming down as I listened to the congressional hearings this week. I saw amazing women pull down any walls of privacy or relative anonymity that might have protected them from threats and lies. They powerfully shared their experiences and ideas about what is happening that is damaging, pulling down walls of secrecy that might protect destructive efforts.

I think of walls coming down each time I hear someone speak up in church, or a family gathering, or at school, or work. When they step out from behind a wall of silence, or agreement to not cause any disturbance. Or when they suggest that there might be a different view, a different story to consider.

I think of walls coming down when I again read this quote from Chieko Okazaki…

“How much courage does it take in a Relief Society class to raise your hand when everyone seems to agree on only one point of view but where it seems to contradict the Savior’s law of love? Who will represent the point of view of people like you if you do not? Who will speak for your children if you do not? Who will speak for kindness and justice and mercy? If the Spirit whispers that there are people who need to hear your voice, then try to find a way to speak—not to criticize or to force a different decision but to share your perspective. The Church needs to hear the voices of all its members—the voices of its women, its people of color, its new converts, its handicapped members, its divorced members, its teenagers and children, its mothers with small children, its priesthood leaders trying to help. It needs to hear from people who struggle with mental illness, with same-sex attraction, with poverty, and with sorrow.”

From  the book “A Friend in Jesus” by Chieko Okazaki.

 

I think of tearing down walls when I hear friends say they long to be a part of their ward or family or social community, but they don’t want to deal with any rhetoric about politics, or truth claims, or exclusion, or disagreement. I know it is hard to see the wall there – the wall I can build so quickly that separates me from anyone who I assume will not agree with me, or be at the same place I am with understanding how things need to be. It can keep me in a place of isolation, judgement, and powerlessness as I wait for evidence of agreement before I interact with any community.

I ask you to look for the walls in your life. Are they ones you have built to protect yourself from your fear of what others might think of you if you speak up? Are they ones you feel have been imposed on you by what others claim to be true? Is there a way to tear down the walls without resorting to violence? Without attacking or tearing someone else down? Is there a way to tear down the walls by speaking up and creating a world that can exist without that wall. Can you live a life that affirms a world without the need for walls of confinement, or walls that are built in the name of protection?

It is so difficult. It takes so much effort, over and over and over, to invite people on all sides of any wall to come and help tear it down because we all need a world with less division and more connection.

I think Christ was an example of someone who did not wait for all sides to come and agree to pull down the walls. He created a world with his language and actions that had no walls. And He invited us to do the same. It was not easy, or pleasant, or predictable. It is an example of constantly, moment by moment, being willing to leave behind a past life of confinement, defensiveness, and limits, and to create and step into a new world of connection and unconditional love.

I try and fail at this, over and over. And I will keep trying. Because a world of walls is a world without connection.

Please join me, and see what new worlds we can create.

 

Sacred Music Sunday: But Thanks Be to God

[image error]The words “thank you” written in several different languages.

This week, people in the USA will be celebrating Thanksgiving. Starting next Sunday, most of the Christian world begins preparations for Christmas. (And some have already started preparation.) It’s a time of joy and gratitude.

Back when I had more time for hobbies, I always joined a community choir at Christmas to sing the oratorio Messiah by G.F. Handel. Now that I’m to busy to make the rehearsal commitment, I make it a point to find a sing-along to go to so that I still get to make the music. One of the songs that usually gets cut is But Thanks Be to God. I really like it, though. It’s a reminder that of all the things we have to be grateful for, the most important is Jesus Christ, who gives us victory over sin and death through His marvelous grace.

I join with the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, who said in The Living Christ, “God be thanked for the matchless gift of His divine Son.”

Not Invited to the Family Thanksgiving Dinner

Next week is Thanksgiving in the United States. We celebrate with a big feast of turkey and mashed potatoes, various sides, and lots of pie. But this year I was not invited to the family dinner. It’s not the first time. When my parents moved to my state two years ago, I knew things would change. I just thought it would mean that I was expected to show up to huge extended family holiday celebrations. I had mixed feelings about that. For most of my married life I have lived far from most of my family. But I have hosted many holiday meals over the years. I think I cooked the whole Thanksgiving meal for 15 out of 20 years of my married life. We’ve had college aged siblings at school in town for many years. This year my family was fishing for a host and I figured they expected me to volunteer. I didn’t want to. I already invited everyone over once this month for my daughter’s birthday, and my house is the smallest. And I’m just tired. So I didn’t volunteer.

So I didn’t get invited. Everyone else is having Thanksgiving without me and my family. Three sisters, but not this sister. We are allowed to come for dessert. Not sure if I want to because I am feeling really injured.

The reason they give is that there are too many people and not enough chairs. Since when do people need chairs to eat? Or couldn’t we eat in shifts, feeding the younger kids first, or some other solution?  That is kind of funny, when I think of church rhetoric talking about “no empty chairs” ingrained in cultural dialogue. I have heard it many times, though I am not sure where it originated. The imagery is powerful, a great heavenly feast with a chair for everyone. The chairs representing the unique position of each person in the family that can’t be filled by anyone else, and that they are all part of a forever family. The empty chair is the one left empty by someone rejecting, not qualifying, or for some other reason absent from the celebration in the celestial abode. Also funny, because at my house we don’t actually have enough kitchen chairs for my whole family to sit, but we cobble things together and still eat together most days of the week.

This isn’t the first time. In fact, since moving here, my parents haven’t invited my family and my sister’s family over at the same time. I have 8 children and she has 7, so that is a lot of children. But no more than my mom had. I would hope she would be sensitive to the feeling of being left out because you have too many children. Except I don’t remember my family ever being left out growing up. My grandparents had us over anyway, even when their house was small and another large family of cousins was coming too. I have shared with my mom how this has happened to me in other contexts. There are lots of extended family events my family and I don’t get invited to. Maybe people think we’re too busy. Maybe they think our family is too big. I don’t know. Ironically, I felt a huge amount of pressure from my extended family to have all these kids. This is the type of family I grew up in. Large families were very much a part of our responsibility in our brand of Mormonism. I never would have suspected that would lead to exclusion.

Soon after they moved here, there was the Easter dinner where my brother and his family were in town visiting my parents. My local sister’s family was invited to join, but mine was not. I had been told Grandma was going to hold an Easter egg hunt, but then we weren’t even invited to that. I saw a handful of pictures on social media and realized we had been excluded. The next year we did get invited for Easter, but there were no cousins there, so really not as fun for my kids.

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Perhaps the reason given – that there aren’t “enough chairs” — is really the reason they didn’t invite us. But it still hurts. I can’t help thinking my family is excluded because we no longer subscribe to Mormonism. We never talk about our change of beliefs with extended family, because that seems to be what they are comfortable with. Are they scared of me and my kids? They just want to play with their cousins like any kids. I feel like I have been respectful, keeping my unorthodox opinions to myself, but the distance is vaster and wider than ever. I don’t feel comfortable sharing with them about my troubles and worries. No one calls to chat. And I am supposed to take it in stride when I am not invited and everyone else is.

I wonder what they think about eternal family now. Are they worried about empty chairs at their heavenly feast while using the excuse of ‘not enough chairs’ to exclude some from the feast here and now? An empty chair at a family dinner, empty chair at a wedding celebration, an empty chair at a funeral. They are felt deeply. If empty chairs represent a failure of one kind or another, what does “not enough chairs” represent? When I picture a heaven,  I can only imagine it as heaven if it is more loving and more inclusive than anything experienced here. In reaching for heavenly ideals, I think there will always be a place for everyone. Chair or no chair.

Taking off my coat and shoes.

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by LMA

Coat and shoes. 

There is a part inside of me that wears a coat and shoes  all day, every day. She stands at the ready. To work. To achieve. To be good. To be helpful. To be perfect.

She spends time with Heavenly Mother.  She has to be asked  to leave the kitchen and come into the place where all of the parts of myself rest.  She’s making a meal for someone,  preparing treats for visiting teaching (that’s what it was called then), writing a thank-you card. 

Once she’s in the room,  she sees her Mama. She’s so tired, she wants to take off her coat and shoes and call Heavenly Mother “Mommy.”  The moment they make eye contact, she starts to cry. She’s been trying too hard for too long  to be good. 

Heavenly Mother knows without a word being said.   She tells her gently, “you don’t have to try anymore. You do not have to be good, You are good.  It’s alright to rest.  I don’t want you to keep hurting your body and spirit. I want your body and spirit to be safe and protected. ”

Heavenly Mother gently walks up to her and asks if it’s okay if she help her take off the coat and shoes,  to rest a little.  She waits for her to say it’s okay.  She touches the little girl’s face  and hands her a Kleenex to wipe her tears.  When the little girl nods her head okay, Heavenly Mother gently pulls down the zipper of the coat,  softly pulling one arm at a time out of the sleeves. Next, she leans down toward the floor. She unties the shoes one at a time,  carefully pulling out each foot delicately. 

The little girl hides her face in her Mama’s chest and cries for a few minutes more.  Her Mama holds her snug and pets her hair as she cries.  When she’s ready, the little girl takes her place on the edge of the bed.  She wants to rest,  but doesn’t quite know how.  Heavenly Mother sits down on a chair next to her, holding her hand and tickling her back.

The coat and shoes are placed  lovingly by the door. So the little girl can look at them  when she needs them. She cautiously rests her head  on the headboard and puts a blanket by her face.  She feels safe with her Mommy nearby.

 

A Christmas Sacrament Meeting

[image error]St John’s Anglican Church, Darlinghurst Sydney, The Nativity by Clayton and Bell

This past Christmas, I was responsible for the Sacrament Meeting Christmas program at my local Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ward. For most of the musical numbers, I asked the performer, choir director, or organization president to choose a song they wanted to teach or perform, so that they would be performing a song they knew well or really wanted to learn or teach. Then I plugged in the numbers they chose into where they fit into the scripture story, and filled in the remaining music slots with congregational hymns. I love singing at Christmas, so I incorporated lots of congregational singing time.

I am sharing my narration here, and including videos of the songs we used so you can listen as you read and enjoy this Christmas message. (The videos are not the artists who performed at my local ward, and not necessarily the same arrangements.)

Opening Hymn: Hymn 203: Angels We Have Heard on High

Sacrament Hymn: Hymn 196: Jesus, Once of Humble Birth (Of all the Sacrament songs, I think this one is the most Christmasy.)

Administration of the Sacrament

Special Musical Number Christmas Bells (Primary Songbook pg. 54)
Sung by Young Women and Leaders, with violin, cello, bass and piano played by young women instrumentalists. (In my stake, Young Women are responsible for providing Sacrament Meeting music and talks at a nursing home each week, so I put them first in the program so they could leave and perform the same number again at the care center during the same meeting hour.)

Narration:

Ancient prophets foretold:

…the time cometh, and is not far distant, that with power, the Lord Omnipotent who reigneth, who was and is from all eternity to all eternity, shall come down from heaven among the children of men, and shall dwell in a tabernacle of clay, and shall go forth amongst men, working mighty miracles, such as healing the sick, raising the dead, causing the lame to walk, the blind to receive their sight, and the deaf to hear, and curing all manner of diseases.

And he shall cast out devils, or the evil spirits which dwell in the hearts of the children of men.

And lo, he shall suffer temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer, except it be unto death; for behold, blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people.

And he shall be called Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Father of heaven and earth, the Creator of all things from the beginning; and his mother shall be called Mary. (Mosiah 3:5-8)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 207, Third Verse: It came upon the midnight clear

Narration:

…The angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth …And the angel came in unto [Mary], and said, Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.

And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be.

And the angel said unto her, 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. (Luke 1:26-31)

Before departing, the angel told Mary:

For with God, nothing shall be impossible. (Luke 1:37)

Congregational Hymn: Hymn 208, Third Verse: O Little Town of Bethlehem

Narration:

As Mary awaited the Christ child’s birth, she testified of Him:

My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.

For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. 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.

He hath showed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree. He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He hath [helped] his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy as he spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed forever. (Luke 1:46-55)

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

Narration:

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. (Luke 2:1)

Mary and her new husband Joseph traveled to Bethlehem to be identified and counted for the census.

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)

Special Musical Number: The Friendly Beasts
Sung by Primary Children

Narration:

And 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.

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 2:8-14)

The shepherds hurried to the stable where they found Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus.

And when they had seen [Jesus], they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. (Luke 2:18)

Special Musical Number: O Holy Night
Sung by soloist

Narration:

The Spirit guided a just and devout man named Simeon to the temple on the same day Mary and Joseph brought the baby there. Simeon had long known by revelation that he would see his Savior before his death. When Simeon saw the baby Jesus, he cradled him in his arms

…and blessed God, and said, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel. (Luke 2:28-32)

And there was one Anna, a prophetess…[who] served God with fastings and prayers night and day. And she coming in that instant, gave thanks likewise unto the Lord, and spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem. (Luke 2:36-38)

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

Narration:

When wise men from the east saw a new star over Bethlehem, they knew the prophecy had been fulfilled:

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)

And, lo, the star, which they 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

Narration:

Wise men and women still seek after Jesus. If we prepare ourselves, like Anna and Simeon did, we too will know our Savior. With the angels, we rejoice in the peace and good will the gospel brings. Like the shepherds, we can tell everyone the good news of the gospel. Sometimes, the greatest miracles begin in humble circumstances, like a lowly stable. Like Mary, we know that with God, nothing is impossible.

Ward Choir: Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

Narration:

As the ancient prophets foretold, Jesus has come to us. Now we must come unto Him.

Jesus has promised:

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. (Luke 11:9)

When prompted by the conductor, please join the choir in singing the third verse of Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful.

Closing Hymn: Ward Choir, Joined by Congregation in Third Verse: Hymn 202: Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful

Closing Prayer

Giving Thanks for my Feminist Mother

[image error]Risa and her mother, 2005

The beginning of November marked twelve years since my mother died from pancreatic cancer. In anticipation of the anniversary I expected to feel how I have felt in years past: mournful, devastated, regretful, empty, and sorrowful for her missing out on her children and grandchildren’s’ lives. Instead, to my surprise, I found myself putting flowers on her headstone that day feeling full of gratitude for everything she taught and instilled in me.

My mother was reared in the time when Mormon women were married very young and had numerous babies very quickly (has that time ever ended?). She had pioneer blood flowing through her veins on her mother’s side, and her paternal grandparents gave up everything for the church and moved from Denmark to Logan, Utah in the early 20th century. When she graduated from high school in 1963 she didn’t take the expected course. Instead she took at job in the Foreign Training Division of the Department of Agriculture in Washington, DC. She rented her own apartment without roommates, something that was virtually unheard of at the time. This was back when women weren’t allowed to open a checking account in their own name without a husband or father’s approval. Independent to a fault, she forged her own path of what was expected of a Mormon young lady, even becoming inactive for more than two decades over the priesthood ban. Many of her friends in DC were black and she couldn’t reconcile her values with church doctrine (I know the feeling). She and my non-Mormon father eloped when they were 26, again following her heart instead of tradition.

After I graduated with my Bachelors in Social Work I was
employed by the church at LDS Family Services as an adoption caseworker. My dad
thought it was so ironic that I was expected to wear a dress or skirt to work, 30
years after my mother was the first woman, who worked for the federal
government in the early ‘70s, to wear a pantsuit to work. She was not a person
you could tell what to do.

My mother was a career woman and there was only a short blip of time she did not work. She was highly competent and capable. Twelve years later I still run into some of her former coworkers who tell me how she was the sunshine in the office and how much they miss her spunk, competency, and humor. When she quit one secretarial job in the early ’80s to have my brother, her former supervisor had to hire six secretaries to replace her. She spent years trying to re-hire her. My maternal grandmother was also a career woman, who even worked for NASA at one point in DC. I come from a long line of highly capable women.

As I sat at her headstone this year, I felt gratitude for my mother always pushing me academically. It was never an option whether or not I would go to college. She was never afforded the opportunity and pushed her daughters to take advantage of things she never had. She would always tell me, “a man is not a financial plan.” It was never “get an education in case of….” She knew we needed to be able to support ourselves no matter what. It’s probably why my sister, my sister-in-law, and I are career women. Even though I’m in the middle of grad school hell, I’m glad she pushed me to be relentless in my pursuit of education.

My mother taught me to be strong and to face adversity with a sense of humor. She had breast cancer when I was 8 and her doctor said she healed faster and better than any of his other patients because of her sense of humor. For example, when she had her double mastectomy she asked the doctor if she could keep her breasts to have them stuffed and mounted on the wall. She was so funny and quick-witted and I have found that that’s what people remember most about her – her making them laugh.

This year instead of mourning what I could have had, I’m choosing to be grateful for what I was given. I hope wherever she is on the great eternal rainbow bridge, she is proud of the daughter she raised. Of the children she raised. I would like to honor the life she lived by living the best life I can. By being grateful for what I have. By helping others as much as I’m able to. By raising my children with unconditional love and always being their soft place to fall. By making others laugh. By being kind to strangers and children. By leaving the world a better place for having lived in it.

Like she did.

Recent Church Changes: Are They Enough?

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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I recently stumbled across a piece I wrote a little over two years ago that’s been languishing in my drafts folder. In it, I poured out my dreams for my daughter in the church. Reading through it again, I was almost surprised to see how many of the things I’d hoped for have already come to pass. Here is an excerpt with hyperlinks added to show recent changes:

 

I was sitting next to my five year old daughter, my firstborn, in church during the sacrament. She watched the proceedings with serious eyes, then tugged on my sleeve. “I want to pass the sacrament,” she whispered. “But only boys get to. Right?”

I’d hoped I could protect her from the patriarchal sexism in the church. I’d hoped she would be blind to it somehow.

“Right now only boys get to. Maybe someday you will,” I said.

“I wish I could,” she said. And I saw her eyes sparkle at the thought of being involved in something so important. She understands the sacrament is a Big Deal. She doesn’t have words for it yet, but she knows that serving in a public way is an exciting privilege, a way to both help others and to feel special herself.

“I wish you could, too,” I said.

In our church, I often hear people argue that men’s and women’s roles are “separate, but equal.” I thought about that in the silence after my whispered conversation with my daughter, thought about how if our roles were really equal, I would be able to say to her, “You’re right; it is really special that the boys are able to serve everyone the sacrament, but listen to this cool thing the girls get to do!” But there is nothing.

And I wondered, at what point should I break it to her that there is no doctrinal or scriptural reason she can’t pass the sacrament? And even if policy changed and she could pass the sacrament, would it be enough? She still wouldn’t be able to bless or prepare the sacrament. She still wouldn’t be able to be a visiting or home teacher or perform or witness baptisms or give blessings as a teenager.

Soon she will be eight, and she will see that the boys in her class will have Scout activities once a week, while she only has Activity Days twice a month. She won’t know, and I won’t tell her, that the boys often have ten times the budget the girls do, that they have many more leaders and resources, that they have award ceremonies once a month, that they have derbys and day camps.

When she turns 12, she’ll watch her as her male peers are ordained and pass the sacrament for the first time. By then, she’ll have learned it’s taboo for her to express desire for priesthood. Will she be angry, like I was, that her peers take for granted the privilege they’ve been handed just for showing up?

If she follows in my footsteps and serves a mission, she may wonder, like I did, why she can’t serve as early or as long as the Elders. She may experience confusion and frustration when she sees her sisters serve in leadership positions over other sisters, but never over Elders.

When she goes through the temple, she will learn what her brothers did before coming to earth. She will see a depiction of the Father-God her brothers are told they can aspire to be like. She will not learn anything about the Mother-God or even hear Her mentioned. My daughter will hear, officially, that there is a hierarchy to heaven: her potential husband will become a king and priest unto God, but she will be a queen and priestess to her husband. She will also hear there is a hierarchy to her marriage: her husband will hearken directly to God; she will hearken to her husband.

When I dream big dreams for my daughter, I dream of a temple experience where she is treated as her own agent and not as an appendage to a husband she may not even have. I dream of a temple experience where she can learn what her role was in world framing and what her eternal potential could look like. I dream of gender roles being abolished and tasks instead divided based on circumstance, desire, and skill. I dream of fatherhood and motherhood both being celebrated as equally important roles that are just one potential piece of a beautiful, full life.

 

——————

There was a time not so long ago that every new shift the church made toward parity between men and women, boys and girls, filled me with giddiness. When President Monson announced the missionary age change, that women could serve missions at 19 instead of 21, I literally dropped to my knees and shouted “Yes!” I was grateful for every small inch of ground, every crumb, every effort toward inclusion of women, even when the gains were few and far between.

Now progress has accelerated. There have been an almost unprecedented number of policy and procedural changes and shifts, both large and small, since President Nelson took the helm, with many of them granting more parity or greater opportunity to girls and women. I will always be happy on some level for changes like these, but I have felt my discontent accelerating, too.

Viewing recent improvements as standalone events, they feel significant, but view them in context and zoom out, look at the full structure of the church and the layers of hierarchy, and it becomes painfully clear that even changes that seem big are just one drop in an empty bucket, one bud on a barren branch, one ray of light cutting through a dark and gloomy sky.

My daughter is nearly eight now. She loves church, loves Primary, loves it all. She is completely earnest and trusting and without guile. Part of me would love for her to experience all the beautiful aspects of the church that worked so well for me for so long. Part of me wants to spare her from the crippling cognitive dissonance, the anguish if (when?) the church breaks her heart the way it broke mine.

Even with all the changes the church has made, many of them laudable and long awaited, my dreams for my daughter still stretch past the confines the church has put on her because she was born female.

Are the changes enough?

Will they ever be enough?

Guest Post: Take what you love and leave the rest ….The deception beyond the perception

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By Melissa Malcolm King

What does it mean to be a saint? To be perfected? To be like God? To truly love others without condition?

Often times in our quest for holiness, we lose sight of the reason for our worship. We become so consumed with the desire to look righteous that we forget that it is an action not an attitude.

I have witnessed well -meaning, kind hearted and devoted members of the church express sentiments that attempt to justify prejudice, bias, racism, homophobia, and more. The perception is that they are simply trying to live a Christlike existence. The deception is that their actions speak louder – the  language of hate, condemnation and persecution.

Christ’s Mission went beyond the miracles he performed or the lessons he taught. What made him the Savior to the world was his ability to not only minister but to love unconditionally. He associated with people who were cast out of society and deemed less than human. The society in Jesus time felt more compelled to show their worship of God by playing the “who is more worthy” game.

This worthiness game divides people into categories: those who are chosen to follow Christ, and those who are not. It places importance on those who appear to have outwardly have made commitments to be saints and condemns those who do not. It enforces the ideal that our worth is a good as our product. Not only is this thinking false, it is devoid of love, acceptance of ourselves and others. It builds walls where bridges should be. It tears apart families and breaks down society. These attitudes and actions take the good news of the Gospel and turn it into elite society for cis-gender white folks.

Jesus himself said “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”  Yet in our meetinghouses, people are stoned with ignorance and injustice. Members stand in holy places yet create thorny paths for others. The solution is simple: If you claim to be a follower of Christ, follow him. Do not follow half-way. Do not follow in the shadows. Do not follow in silence. Do not let others dictate how you should feel or act when others are treated with injustice. Follow him.

Jesus left the 99 to find the one. I believe that this story goes beyond teaching us about missionary work and bringing more souls to the flock. I think the bigger message was that even though the sheep didn’t follow the pack, it was still wanted, loved and had a place with the flock. I think our call is much the same. In this case, to leave our comfort zone of loving the 99, and embrace the one. That person may be someone who doesn’t fit into the “Mormon Mold” like single mothers, People of color, the LGBT+ community,  friends and family of other faiths, and those who do not believe in a higher power at all.

To begin this process, we must be willing to look within ourselves and accept our feelings about ourselves and others, good, bad, and indifferent. We have to rewrite the messages we have been given and stand up against hate in all forms.

To illustrate this, here are examples of the messages I have received throughout the years and what can be done to correct the course:

“Take what you love and leave the rest/Put it on the shelf and walk away”

When a marginalized group expresses pain, shame and /or sorrow we are often asked to pick out the best and leave behind the rest. I should not have to leave anything behind or endure the burden of inequality. Just like you, I should be free to enjoy all that the gospel has to offer with no strings attached. Along these lines, I was often told that the gospel is not a buffet line where we cannot pick or choose. In essence, we are welcome to the entire feast and the blessings. Why should I have to leave mine by the way-side and be satisfied with table scraps?

“If you had enough faith ,you would be willing to accept what is being taught”

Faith is an action. It requires doing something without knowing all the facts or the outcome. Faith is an individual process of connection, love, and the ability to go beyond ourselves to serve others. Regardless of my religious affiliation, I have to right to bask in my faithfulness. I do not have to accept what I know is wrong to demonstrate my faithfulness to man. I do not have to bow down and comply with any standard that makes me feel unsafe. My Faith is sacred and my own. It it is not up to you or anyone else to dictate how I should develop my faith or what it should look like. Faith is not about how I follow the teachings and principles that tell me I am less-than, not wanted, or that my life role is a narrow submissive one. Don’t believe me? Have a little faith.

“You must have not kept the commandments for that to happen to you.

If only your testimony was strong enough”

The God I serve is just, loyal, kind, compassionate, and loves me unconditionally. Our willingness to follow commandments and principles, or to make promises does not mean we are devoid of pain and sorrow. Just as you would not accuse a person with cancer of making themselves sick, it is impossible that a lack of devotion would cause more strife in a person’s life. The God I serve knows that heart of each person and would not want them to take on more than they can bear. The God I serve would not chastise a person for not accepting a calling, staying home on a Sunday to rest, or say no when asked to provide a meal last minute. We are called to serve, not to entangle ourselves in a web of despair. Our worship should not weigh us down, make us feel guilty or make us feel we are not doing enough. Otherwise, It becomes a millstone around our necks and deflates our souls. The God I serve wants the best for me as their child and doesn’t add to my turmoil, but lifts me up.

“When you sin, it’s just another a mark on your pegboard, you are like this chewed up piece gum, you are like a dented can.”

As a survivor of sexual child abuse and rape as teenager, I was raised believing I was sinner. I now know that the above analogies are wrong, but I still carry the scars with me today. I have to come to hold these 2 principles in my heart : When people choose to hurt and/or abuse there is nothing that we did or could have done to prevent it. We are not suddenly separated from God, cast aside or worthless . We are beautiful people who need healing spaces, therapy, and to regain the voice we lost in our trauma. We must remember we were born great – simply because we were born. It is as simple as that. We make mistakes so that we can learn and grow from them. We make mistakes in order to process the world around us. Making mistakes does not make us broken. It makes us human. It gives us the power to create new things and explore uncharted territories. The God I serve made me to have mistakes and loves me just as I am. I am not expendable, I am priceless and no matter what I do, the God I serve loves me even still.

“When will you______________________? You need to start work on______________.”

In the church walls, people often focus on the next step inside of focusing on the here and now. They get the privilege of only hearing or experiencing a mere page or two of a person’s life. These folks do not ever get to read the full story or even a chapter, yet they feel they can decide what the next best step is for others. When will you have kids? You need to start working on that family. When are you putting your papers? When are you going to start working on finding that eternal companion? You need to work on becoming a mother instead of focusing on school. The list goes on and on and on and on. No one should live a checklist life nor should they impose their expectations on others. You should be grateful that a person feels welcome and wants to be part of the flock. Our focus should be how we can love, support and give a voice to the voiceless. Please do not attempt to rewrite a story you have never gotten the privilege to read or experience. Please stand with me even if means others will stand against you. Let love enter where judgements exists. Please do not dilute my life into a meaningless checklist nor do the same with yours. Let love in. Let it begin with you.

“I could love you only if _______ I could only accept you when___________.”

Unconditional love comes when two parties cast aside personal basis, self-doubt and persuasions of others. Unconditional love includes allowing others space and time to be their best authentic self.  At times, we are so engrossed and entangled in what we feel is devotion that we forgot the reason we became devoted in the first place. Find a way to let love in and let the rest work itself out. Unconditional Love is a process that takes place within. That said, let us not forget to nurture and love ourselves first. To do so is not selfish or self-centered, it is an act of humanity. It is impossible to have someone over for dinner if we have not eaten for days. Likewise, it is imperative that we love ourselves before unconditional love can happen with others.

May your pathway to discipleship be paved with unconditionally love and the desire to leave the 99 and serve the one. Take a moment, a minute, days if you need, and decide what you can do personally to rewrite the scripts you have been given. I have found that the greatest thing about life is that we can continually recommit ourselves to do better and to find a better way. We can strive to do so much more than just standing idly by. Will you do something more than walk with me? Hold me up when the ground is too painful to stand on and I will do the same for you. I believe that the most Christ-like thing we can do is to carry each other when cannot go any further. In my perspective, the footprint in the sand story includes each of us holding ourselves up following Christ down the sand. Let the journey begin and let it begin with you.