Exponent II's Blog, page 267

Milk Before Meat so Where’s the beef?

When my third child finally weaned at 15 months of age, he seemed to have the flu all-the-time. Diarrhea that would shoot out of the diaper and down his legs at times and smell particularly foul. I had to take him out of cloth diapers and splurge on disposables for a while (he needed a full-on bath after most diapers).

 

For months I tried elimination diets and allergy free foods. I tried keeping him off eggs, dairy, corn, gluten, etc. It was hard. Gradually a gastroenterologist confirmed that he likely had a dairy protein intolerance. Keeping him off milk, cheese, butter/margarine, and any whey or casein in any product was difficult, but gradually helped. I think I cried with relief when he had a normal poop.

 

And still my husband would sometimes forget and feed him ice cream or yogurt, because he wasn’t dealing with all this stuff all the time. Even a bite would trigger days of extra laundry and diaper rashes. For a few years I often had to give this child a different meal than the rest of the family because I hadn’t yet re-trained myself to cook with this new food issue in mind.

 

Then child number four came along and had the same problem. Then child number five. Now I have six children with a dairy protein intolerance; some of them had more food issues besides the milk thing as well. We gradually stopped eating dairy as a matter of course, and now rarely have it. We eat more beans and vegetables to get calcium and protein. Meat consumption also tapered off. The way I feed my family has completely changed as a result of our experience and on the whole I think we are eating much healthier than we ever would have otherwise – that’s the silver lining.

 

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 In the church I have often heard stressed the importance of ‘milk before meat’ (Cor 3:2). The church uses this phrase to reinforce hierarchical mysteries that are supposedly revealed only to the ‘worthy’ who have been sufficiently obedient through time and grown up the chain in church authority. Lay members are expected to ‘endure to the end’ in obedience and submission and not to seek for the hidden mysteries. Week after week we attend meeting after meeting and are fed milk and milk and milk. Here’s the thing–I have grown intolerant to milk. It makes me sick to my stomach and gives me diarrhea. Where is the ‘meat’? Where is the sustenance I need for growth and health? The church would have me stay and await this greater meal, but I am no longer convinced that it is there at all, or whether meat is actually the best thing for my health. The last 13 years I have had to bring special food for my children to ward dinners and activities because of their food issues. Now I would need to bring my own spiritual food to church on Sunday as well. And I find myself less inclined to come to the table.

 

Paul wrote “For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles of God; and are become such as have need of milk, and not of strong meat. For every one that useth milk is unskilful in the word of righteousness: for he is a babe. But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age — even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil” (Hebrews 5:12-14). This seems to say that there is an appropriate time for teaching, or even re-teaching the fundamentals –this is, until experienced in discerning good and evil. Unfortunately, my experience in church has been that Relief Society lessons are not any richer in doctrine than the Gospel Principles manual. In the Doctrine and Covenants, we are told “And I command you that you preach naught but repentance, and show not these things unto the world until it is wisdom in me. For they cannot bear meat now, but milk they must receive; wherefore, they must not know these things, lest they perish” (19:21-22) So, perhaps we have not yet come to a place as a church where we are ready to eat meat? What then for those who have become intolerant of the diet available? Is it then time to graduate to independent research? What then if we are led to a diet that looks nothing like the “milk only” menu available at church?

 

I’m concerned that church members are being asked to live on a diet lacking in vital nutrients, being kept always on milk when our palates were made to mature and branch out into other food groups and experience a broader array of spiritual nourishment.

 

“Girls Can Be Leaders”: A Letter to My Daughter for Her 18th Birthday

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[My daughter “H” holding her sign from the NYC Women’s March, 1/20/18]

 

Every so often my husband and I write future letters to our daughters, ages five and three. We email them to an account we set up in their names that we intend on gifting them on their 18th birthdays. This is a modified version of a letter I wrote my five-year-old daughter, whom I’ll call “H.”

 

Dear H,

I will never forget last Saturday, the day our family participated in the NYC Women’s March with a group of Mormon feminists. My favorite memory from that day is how boldly and proudly you held up your sign (pictured above). You were MAGNIFICENT! Every few minutes marchers would stop to ask us if they could take your photo. Your small but mighty frame clearly exuded your enthusiasm. You never turned down a request to be photoed despite how tired you were. You immediately stopped in your tracks, turned toward the cameras, met the gaze of the marchers, and with a fierce smile and radiant eyes squinted through the sun until they got their shot.

You have been a strong advocate for gender equity in our church ever since I started a dialogue with you about what you were observing in the exclusive male leadership at our church. At age three, you started looking up intently during the sacrament and carefully observing the boys who were blessing and passing the bread and water to the congregation. I saw you quietly observing the boys’ movements throughout the room and I didn’t want you to internalize that our Heavenly Parents think only men and boys are important, given the lack of female representation during this weekly church ritual.

So I started a conversation with you by simply saying that your dad and I believe girls and women will someday be leaders at church too, but that for now only boys and men can be leaders. I told you that your dad and I don’t believe this restriction is of God and that we believe it will change someday. To which your three-year-old self replied, “You mean how all the people on the stand are boys?” I said, “Yes.” Since that day I have tried to protect your believing heart by honoring your desire to learn about spiritual things and how to develop a relationship with the divine with the knowledge that the very place we bring you on Sundays discriminates against you, the LGBTQIA+ community, and is a long way from righting our history of racism in the church. But this is the church that your dad and I were raised in. The church our ancestors sacrificed their lives for. The church that we love. And yet the same church that also hurts us and so many others.

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For the Women’s March last weekend you authored a sign that read, “GIRLS CAN BE LEADERS.” A couple of years ago when we were talking about women being leaders, you explained to me that despite the fact that the prophets don’t believe women can be leaders in the church, you matter-of-factly announced, “Someday I’m going to be a leader!” I believe you.

I love how strongly you stand up for injustice and oppression and are fearless in proclaiming your belief in gender equality. Because of our family’s values, your dad and I are struggling with whether or not to consent to your being baptized into the LDS Church at age eight when most of your peers at church will be. We think it is much too young to fully understand the shadow side of the church and how it will impact you; how it discriminates against children who are living with parents in same-sex marriages (there was a recent policy change forbidding them to be baptized until age 18, and only if they disavowed their parents’ marriage); and so many other aspects of church history and church policies that are troubling. Just weeks ago a policy change was made regarding baptisms for the dead in Mormon temples that allows teenage boys to baptize teenage girls as proxies for the dead. This added priesthood and leadership responsibility for young boys is another example of maleness being privileged and femaleness being subordinated. Meanwhile, teenage girls are still excluded from officiating in the ordinance of baptisms for the dead in the temple in any meaningful way, but were offered the same responsibilities as women currently hold in the temple baptistry. This includes tasks that are tangential to the baptisms, including handing out towels.

There are other shadow sides of the LDS Church that concern us deeply: regular “worthiness” interviews (every 6 months) beginning at age 12 involving questions about chastity (sex, and often masturbation) by male Bishops required for young women and men to go to the temple. We don’t want you or your sister to feel it’s appropriate for an adult man to ask you questions about your sexuality. Even if a parent is permitted to be present in the room. And we don’t want you to be put in physically compromising or uncomfortable situations with your male peers—or to make you feel like it’s okay for a male peer to physically dominate you (by holding you underwater even for a second during baptisms by immersion for the dead in the temple). And we especially don’t want you to feel like you were deceived or didn’t have all the information necessary to make an educated decision about whether or not you want to join a church that discriminates against you because of your assigned sex at birth. And that excludes other children from baptism until age 18 because of who their parents love and married. And the harmful doctrine forbidding the queer community to love who they love and be in full fellowship in the church. And people of color continuing to be marginalized despite official church statements to the contrary.

These inequities weigh on my heart heavily as your mom. I worry nearly daily about the possibility of your internalizing negative ideas about your worth, value, and potential because of how the church that brings you so much joy also limits your opportunities for spiritual growth. It denies you the ability to receive ordination to the priesthood as every male peer of yours will starting at age 12; it prohibits you from ever being a full ecclesiastical or administrative leader in the church; it forbids you from publicly praying to your Mother in Heaven (although I model that for you at home); it bars you from your spiritual birthright to give and receive healing blessings as your Mormon foremothers did; and it sets up unequal marital relationships in temple ordinances and sealings (marriage ceremonies) by setting up a male dominating hierarchy in marriage including the possibility of eternal polygamy (a man can be sealed to two women if his first marriage is dissolved through divorce or death, but a woman can only be sealed to one man while she is alive).

Your dad and I work every day to make our marriage more equitable. We are working hard to teach you and your sister that one’s sex, gender identity, or sexual orientation should not limit one’s private or public dreams. We want you to be free of the trappings of patriarchy, but we know that isn’t possible given the society we live in. I often justify continuing to bring you to the LDS Church—my spiritual home—by telling myself that if my daughters can learn to navigate and take a stand against sexism, homophobia, and racism in this church, then dealing with those things in society will be easier. But I don’t know if that is true. Mormonism is your religious heritage on both sides of your family. I want you to understand where you came from, but I don’t want to harm your powerful, intelligent, beautiful soul.

I will continue to fight for equality for all, in and out of the LDS Church, for you my dear H, for your sister, and for all who are marginalized.

I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. You are determined and unstoppable already at age five. I can only imagine how phenomenal you will be at 25 and beyond.

I dream of a world where the sky is the limit for you.

All my love,

Your Mama

“Because I said so!”

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Are you familiar with the old story about the newlywed and the pot roast? Surely you’ve heard it at the beginning of some sacrament meeting talk, somewhere. The newlywed bride is making a roast for her new husband. She cuts the end of the roast off before placing it in the pan. When asked why she did that, she replies that her mother always did it that way. The bewildered husband asks his mother-in-law about the roast amputation, and she explains that her mother always did it that way. Finally, the grandmother is asked about the mysterious technique. Her answer? “My pan was too small for the roast!”

Usually this story is met with chuckles about the silliness of the bride and how such silliness gets passed on until someone–the smarter one, the man–asks, “Why?”

I am in a place in my life where I ask “Why?”

Growing up, I really hated when my mom answered my never-ending “Why’s” with “because I said so.” I vowed that I wouldn’t do that when I was a mom. (Just one of the many, many words I’ve eaten). “Because I said so” is actually sometimes appropriate, especially with a toddler that cannot understand the rationale for every rule. But toddlers grow up, and by the time they are teens, “because I said so” often yields the opposite of the desired effect.

How many aspects of our religious observance answer “why?” with “because I said so!”?

Studying church history last year really impressed upon me the very human, imperfect, bumbling processes and opinions that led to so many things that are considered absolutes today. The variations of the Word of Wisdom, the varieties of dress standards, the hair/beard/piercing fluctuations (why in the world were men required to wear socks at BYU?), sabbath day observance, and the list goes on. So many points of contention and grief come down to “because I said so” even if it’s called something else. “That’s the way we do things.” “The unwritten order of things.” “Just because.” “We need to have faith.” “Line upon line.” “We’ll understand when we are on the other side of the veil.” Those answers kind of worked for me for a rather long time.

But now I am a grown up. And when I ask “why?” I want an answer.

I am not quite sure how to get my answers, but study and pondering and prayer seem to help.

I am looking at the fruits of various practices and traditions. If the fruits are good, that’s a good answer to “why.” If the fruits are not good, maybe the way things have always been done is not a good way. I haven’t figured everything out yet. Not even close. The fruit test is working pretty well. It is streamlining the gospel for me. Love one another, show that love through kindness, and respect each person’s autonomy is what I am going on at the moment.

How do you answer your “whys?”

Prayer after a Faith Transition

[image error]I remember sitting in my Community of Congregation for the first time. We were a brand new group, all Mormons and former Mormons. There were a few familiar faces and a bunch of unknown ones. The question “Why am I here?” kept running through my I head. I played new hymns at the piano and we all sang awkwardly. Seth Bryant, my new pastor, stood up and explained the Prayer for Peace, rang a little chime three times, lit a candle (my husband was horrified by this detail when I told him later), and read the Prayer for Peace.

The reading of written prayers was a new experience for me, as few prayers are standardized in the LDS Church. I’ve always been comfortable with spontaneous prayer, but I have learned that a well written and planned prayer can encompass all of the things that you want to communicate in a moment, but often can’t quite execute. When you are in grief or otherwise at a loss for words, written prayers can walk you through comforting language without having to generate that in the moment.

I used to think that if I said a prayer in the morning and a prayer at night, plus three blessings on food, and other needed prayers throughout the day, God would put a marble in a jar of good deeds and obedience on my behalf. I liked to pray, but I also felt that it helped me accumulate eternal reward points. Prayer also had the possibility of causing God to intervene in someone’s life if they needed it. After my faith transition, my concept of God doesn’t include a collection of marble jars measuring each person’s goodness. I believe that God may move us to act, but I don’t think that God stages interventions in our lives in the same way that I did before. All of this leaves the question surrounding the purpose of prayer in an unclear and confusing place. Perhaps the most important part of prayer is the way in which it can inspire us to act, to move us to change, and to create moments when we feel that connection to God.

In thinking about prayer, change of LDS Church leadership, and peace this past week, I wrote this:

A Prayer for Peace

Dear God,

We seek to know you

And feel your presence with us.

In our choices and actions,

May we be drawn toward the work of justice and peace

For as long as we sojourn in this life.

Bless us with moral courage,

And lead us into integrity and authenticity.

Help us to hold ourselves and our communities

Accountable for our words and actions,

And consider the policies, procedures, and laws we support.

Guide us to grace for ourselves and each other

That we may always use the privileges we hold

To the benefit of those without.

Move us to build communities founded on

Mutual respect, inclusion, and equity.

Help us to grow into better ways

Of knowing and doing and moving through this life.

Be with us, O God

And help us to live out your peace.

Amen.

Unideal

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Our new prophet, President Nelson, in a Facebook post clarifying his press conference address, sorted living situations into two categories: unideal and other. Sure, he made up a new word for the one group, and didn’t actually name the other, but I guess that’s because it sounds better than less-than-ideal and normal.

And, sure, it’s not like we’re stuck in one group forever. Living situations change. Those pesky YSA can get married, widowers and divorcées can remarry, childless couples can get pregnant or adopt. Part-member families can convert the holdouts and get sealed properly. Gay people can put their feelings on hold until after the resurrection. President Nelson’s view seems to be that those whose lives are unideal will change and they will become normal. The problem with this is that the changes don’t only move in the more-ideal direction.

For example, the new temple policy states that young women now have the opportunity to offer towels to their newly-baptised peers – a privilege that was recently reserved for endowed women only. The letter from the first presidency doesn’t specifically state so, but I assume unendowed women over 18 are now also extended that privilege.

Those who live unideal lives aren’t specifically recognised in most policy or counsel. We have to fill in the gaps as best we can, all the while having the official narrative make clear that our lives are unsatisfactory to church leaders. Newly called First Counsellor Oaks has explained: “If you feel you are an exception to what I have said as as a general authority, it is my responsibility to preach general principles. When I do, I don’t try to define all the exceptions. […] I only teach the general rules. Whether an exception applies to you is your responsibility. You must work that individually between you and the Lord.” [1]

The saviour did tell us to be perfect, and that we would be sorted like sheep and goats or wheat and tares. He was generally pretty clear that this sorting would happen after everyone was dead, and implied that perfection was measured at the end of our mortal probation by not calling himself perfect until after he’d concluded his, but I can understand the impulse to get started on that work a little early. We all want the millennium to run smoothly and efficiently, and it would be so much easier if everyone could just follow the general rules.

One of the things that drew me so strongly to the scriptures as a child growing up in the unideal category (though my father was in the bishopric, so we seemed to fit the normal case, and follow the general rules) was the fact that every single family was unideal. There’s not a perfect family in the scriptures. (Unless you’re counting those we only see from the outside, and I know for a fact that you can’t assume much from how it looks to outsiders).  The scriptures were written for me, in a way that the new First Presidency is saying that this church is not for me — or at least, not for me right now.

And, of course, we can find scripture stories where the families seem normal. We don’t hear the prayers of the mothers of the stripling warriors, we don’t see the actions of the boys as they prepare to leave, we aren’t privy to the exchanges between sisters and fathers and grandparents in those families. We have only one line from the young men, that they had been taught by their mothers, and that line is often used to categorise the entire community as full of other/normal/perfect/ideal families.

If we instead turn to a story of a family where multiple viewpoints are shown, we’ll see that reality can’t follow general rules except for very short periods of time. Look at the relationships between Isaac and Rebekah and Jacob and Esau. None of those people were perfect. We call two of those guys prophets, and the woman went against the wishes of her husband (a prophet), because she listened to the spirit and did as the Lord wanted so that the right son was the next prophet. We recognise that, but don’t call her a prophetess, and we don’t think too long about whether or not their family is ideal (because they’re not, but it’s kind of tricky to suggest that people who lead the church might be capable of belonging in the unideal category).

The truth is that we all belong in the unideal category, unless we flatten normal or ideal until they don’t have anything to do with our hearts. If this church is mostly for people who can follow general rules perfectly, and the general rules mandate young marriage and large families and stay-at-home-mothers, this church is only for a very small minority of people. And many times, those rules are in tension with the first and second great commandments. Above all, we are to love God with all our heart, mind and spirit, and to love our neighbour as ourselves. Whether they’re normal or not.

I pray that our new prophet and his counsellors gain a witness of that truth, and help the church focus on those two most important general rules during their presidency.

 

[1] “The Dedication of a Lifetime,” May 1, 2005 (link goes to a video clip)

When the Questions Aren’t There (Thoughts on Tuesday’s Press Conference)

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Photo by Bekah Russom on Unsplash

Two Sundays ago, my 3.5 year old daughter had her first day of primary and my 1.5 year old daughter started nursery.

They both loved it. My oldest chattered the whole ride home about her fun teachers and the silly snowman song she’d learned (we apparently have never given “Once There Was a Snowman” enough air time in our house). And except for one small breakdown when my youngest realized I’d left the room, my baby thought that nursery was a blast: from the singing to the slide (am I right that nursery toys so much cooler than they were when I was a toddler?) to the entire box of raisins she got to munch on as her teacher pointed to pictures of smiling kids and explained that all of us are children of God.

Both that Sunday and the one that followed were mostly easy and carefree mornings for my little Mormon girls. What they didn’t know is that our presence at church that first Sunday in January– all together and for all 3 hours of church for the first time in more than half a year—had come as a result of hours of difficult talks in the car over Christmas break, wherein their pragmatic father and ardent mother had tried their darndest to tackle the pressing questions that busy work schedules had made it easy to put off for so long:

Should we start going back to church as a family?

If so, should we start taking the girls to 2nd and 3rd hours? What would that look like exactly?

And if not, what then?

To answer these questions, a lot of other ones had to be taken out and discussed on that long car ride between my parents’ and his while our girls slept in the backseat: questions about temple ordinances and towel duty, about the beauty of a shared spiritual language, about the 2015 policy that still perplexes and pains us, about a history filled with both the inspiring and the disturbing, about how and where we could improve at reaching out and setting boundaries, and about what kinds of experiences and frameworks we want to give our girls.

Whenever my husband and I have these kinds of especially serious, long, and targeted discussions, we seem to take turns being the one ready to step up the effort and the one who is ready to throw in the towel. This time, I was the one on empty. But as we both did our best to listen and validate and articulate what we were feeling, we both finally agreed that, yes, we’d start going to church again.

Two days later, President Monson passed away.

And 12 days later, my husband and I listened closely as the newly instated First Presidency responded to Peggy Fletcher Stack’s question (starts at about 18:10):

 “…What will you do in your presidency to bring women, people of color, and international members into decision-making for the church?”

I’ve felt a deep sense of urgency every time I’ve thought back on this question– and others, like the one posed by the AP’s Brady McCombs’—over the past couple of days.

They’re the kinds of difficult questions that my husband and I, thinking of our daughters, felt compelled to carefully examine in the car just two weeks earlier.

And they’re the kinds of questions that I had desperately hoped to find rooted within the consciousness and consideration of the First Presidency—men who will not only be directing the church that many families like mine are struggling to work out a sustainable connection to, but men who, like all of us, cannot possibly petition heaven for an answer to a question that was never planted in their hearts in the first place.

I readily admit that I have never had to answer tough questions in a highly-scrutinized press conference at any time in my life, let alone at the age of 93. I will also say that as many times as I’ve disagreed with them, I love and sustain those men. Their faces are familiar to me, and each of them at different times throughout my life has provided counsel that has strengthened and comforted me. Their words have mattered to me, and as a mom who wants to know whether and/or how to raise two daughters in this church, their words matter especially to me now.

Here is what I know:

That one day, when my girls ask what it is that they can do and become as daughters of God, that they will deserve better than a pedestalizing response that limits their influence to submissive and supporting roles.
That when they someday question the lack of representation they see in an institution that matters to them, that they will deserve better than to be dismissively told that labels like gender and race don’t matter by a man who has actively used his power to draw and enforce boundaries around those same categorizations.
And that one day, when they approach those in power with the kinds of sacred questions that result from wrestling with the implications of a God who sees people of every race, nation, sexual orientation, ability, and gender as having equal and infinite worth, that my daughters will deserve to sense that those same kinds of questions—and the lives they represent—are continually before their leaders, too.

It’s been a long time since I’ve expected perfection from the church or any human—prophet or not—who belongs to it. And I didn’t listen to the press conference the other day expecting this newly formed body to suddenly have polished and progressive answers to these kinds of questions. But if what matters most isn’t where we’ve been but where we are headed, then in a top-down organization like the LDS church, it matters a great deal that the questions troubling so many of its members are being carefully considered by those in command.

And nothing about the reactions or answers I saw and heard during that press conference gave me hope that that is the case.

My husband and I aren’t going to draw any sort of long-term conclusion based on one disappointing press conference. But this Sunday, my family isn’t going to be in an LDS church building—not because we want to make some kind of statement with our non-attendance, but because for the first time in a long time, we’re both on empty. Hauling your heavy questions with you each week to a place that doesn’t know what to do with the kinds of questions you bring gets old. And nothing saddens me more about it all than when I think back on how excited my 3 year old was last week when she woke up knowing that she’d be going back to Primary, and how happy my baby was after sacrament meeting to run out of my arms and into her nursery class.

I want this for them. I want them to experience the fun and quirky and beautiful things that I got to experience as a young girl growing up in the LDS church. But if Mormonism cannot feel and sit with with the kinds of God-given questions that I know my inquisitive girls will find growing within them someday, then they deserve better.

On Change

[image error] Change is sometimes the best. Change can bring new hope, new resources, and new vigor. I live in upstate New York where winters can be very rough. The change that comes with Spring brings neighbors outside and back to the community. Everything feels  friendlier.  Sometimes a change is what we need to renew. A change is as good as a rest, as my Grandma used to say. Sometimes change gets us out of unhealthy environments or relationships. If society never changed, I would not be able to vote or have my own credit card or own property.

Change is sometimes the worst. With change comes ambiguity, and the chance that things could be worse. Change can mean loss, even a change that is generally positive. When I moved across the country for professional opportunities, it was overall a good thing. I had chances to grow and learn and stretch myself in ways I wouldn’t have done otherwise. But it meant leaving my family behind. Positive change can also be followed by negative backlash. I would argue that a lot of the political climate in the US right now is due to backlash from the progress made under the previous administration.

The other thing about change is that it is continuous. It sounds cliche, but humans are literally always changing. As a developmental psychologist, it always strikes me how adaptive we are as a species. We react to changing contexts by changing our selves. This allows us to survive and flourish in the face of difficulty. This isn’t as Pollyanna as it may sound. Sometimes those changes lead to dysfunction – things like attachment disorders protect from the emotional devastation of rejection, but make healthy relationships difficult, for example. The goal of adaptation is survival, which is not necessarily the same as optimal development.

Recently, I’ve been through a lot of change personally, just as we all have been through a lot of change as a church and as a society in the last months and years. (I know many of us have strong feelings about changes made in the First Presidency this week.) And I don’t know about you, but I find myself reeling. It’s like I can’t adapt fast enough and so have just ended up confused and bewildered, and, if I’m being totally honest, a little bit paralyzed. All this big change can start to make one feel as though they do not have agency…things keep happening to us, things that are out of our direct control. One of my favorite things in Mormonism is the emphasis on agency – it comes from God, and he will not take our agency away. We have to make choices.

My new motto is from Kerry Washington, “You can be the lead in your own life.” There are certainly things happening that affect my life drastically that I cannot control. But I am resolving here and now not to relinquish my agency. I can still make choices. I can still. I can still influence my small little sphere. I can get up every day and do my best work. I can be kind and smile at the people in line at the grocery store. I can educate myself on perspectives I may not understand. I can love my husband. I can advocate for my students and help them be successful.

It is still frustrating to not be able to be able to influence things the way you want to, especially when things aren’t going the way you would choose for them to go. I’m not saying I am ready to settle, or that I’m not still frustrated. But my goal now, I think, is to try and stop wasting energy on things I can’t impact directly, and redirect that to things I can. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Advocates for women react to the transition to a new Mormon prophet

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President Thomas S. Monson, Elder Russell M. Nelson and other Mormon leaders and their spouses at the Kyiv Ukraine temple dedication in 2010

In this episode of the Religious Feminism interview series, Mormon advocates for women reflect on the legacy of Mormon church president and prophet Thomas S. Monson, who recently passed away, and discuss their expectations, hopes and concerns about the transition to his successor, President Russell M. Nelson.   You can find episode notes for the Religious Feminism Podcast here at the Exponent website: http://www.the-exponent.com/tag/religious-feminism-podcast/

Advocates who participated in this podcast:
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Carolina Allen

Carolina Allen is the founder of Big Ocean Women, which promotes maternal feminism, defined as having a voice in the the public square for faith, family, and motherhood. Carolina is a native of Brazil and an immigrant to the United States, and participates in international policy issues at the United Nations.

 

 

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Carol Lynn Pearson

Carol Lynn Pearson is a poet, playwright and author of several books about the concerns of Mormon women and the Mormon LGBTQ community. Her most recent book, The Ghost of Eternal Polygamy: Haunting the Hearts and Heaven of Mormon Women and Men, focuses on the need to address the remnants of polygamy theology and policy that still affect members of the LDS Church, even though the practice was abandoned over a century ago.

 

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Bryndis Roberts

Bryndis Roberts is Chair of the Executive Board of Ordain Women, an activist organization seeking equality and ordination to the priesthood for Mormon women, and one of the founders of FEMWOC: Feminist Women of Color, a forum for feminists, womanists and Mormons of color.

 

 

Links to Connect and Learn More:

Big Ocean Women

Big Ocean Women on Facebook

Big Ocean Women on Twitter

Carol Lynn Pearson’s website

Carol Lynn Pearson on Facebook

Ordain Women

Ordain Women on Facebook

Ordain Women on Twitter

FEMWOC

FEMWOC on Facebook

FEMWOC on Twitter

Additional Resources Discussed in the Podcast:

The Ghost of Eternal Polygamy: Haunting the Hearts and Heaven of Mormon Women and Men

A Plea to My Sisters by Russell M. Nelson, 2015

Listen and subscribe below:

Guest Post: Currently Between Last Names

[image error]by Lesley Butterfield Harrop

What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Those words of Shakespeare seem empty in the midst of an identity crisis. Names are everything. They are everywhere. They are how we determine who we are, what we do, what and how we believe. Names are important. So important, in fact, that to change them takes an act of government, both literally and figuratively.

I am going through a divorce. Hence, the issue of my name has recently come under scrutiny. It has even risen to be the subject of spirited debates in circles of friends, family, but mostly within myself. Not by the fault of anyone else, but by the self-awareness of my soul. Going through a divorce in the same ward is nothing short of a living nightmare, as one can imagine. Regardless, I hold my head high and steer clear of those who would repeat rumors and believe untruths. This leaves me reaching out to new people, who are unaware of the juiciness of my personal life. I found the typical self-introduction goes something like this:

“Hello, I’m Sister [insert awkward pause as I try to figure out who I even am.]”

My air of outer confidence is a poor match for the identity crisis I’m feeling inside. I try again,

“Hello, I’m Sister [insert married last name.] I mean, Sister [insert maiden last name.] But you can call me Sister [insert botched hybrid of married and maiden last names.]”

No, that doesn’t work either.

Who am I? I may not even know. To embrace my married name, feels too victimizing. It hurts too much. I took that name upon myself as a symbol of hope, faith, loyalty, sacrifice, and love in my marriage. Sadly, the marriage has ended because those same qualities were not reciprocated. That name was part of my promise, which I kept. But now I am releasing myself of that promise. To release myself of that name is fitting. I can feel the empowering cleanse of shedding that name. It feels like I imagine a snake must feel as she sheds her skin: renewed, refreshed, revived.

But taking back my maiden name? That’s highly problematic in its own right. I fail to recognize that young girl with that shiny maiden name who was full of innocence, bright-eyed, thinking her life would be set, after finding a returned missionary and getting a temple marriage to boot. A lifetime has passed since that girl even existed. She is gone. Surely she is, but in her place, a woman. Wise, grown, mature, with a wrinkle……or seven.

I realize that the wise woman with one (or seven) wrinkles came about in this space. The space between married and maiden. The space between separated and single. This space is her birthplace, the ambiguity her peace. She was grown from the weeds and sparked from the ashes. This space birthed a strong woman who leads her family with fierce independence. This space made way for her wings to spread. I can honor this space. I cherish this space. It made me her.

I try one more time, with my outstretched hand and a friendly smile without a trace of shame,

“Hello, I’m Sister Currently-Between-Last-Names.”

Yes, that’s me.

Lesley is an RN with ambitions to develop programs to teach emotional intelligence in the community. She freelances as a photographer and writer, along with raising her four young children who happen to love dance parties in the kitchen.

Overcoming Racist Religious Teachings with Max Perry Mueller

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Max Perry Mueller

In this episode of the Religious Feminism interview series, Max Perry Mueller, author of Race and the Making of the Mormon People  and an assistant professor of religious studies at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, discusses the history of racism within Mormonism’s policies and theology and how advocates can work toward racial justice within their religious communities.   He also tells us about his Fundamentalist Christian/Episcopalian/Wiccan upbringing and why he recently decided to join a church with more conservative views than those he personally holds. You can find episode notes for the Religious Feminism Podcast here at the Exponent website: http://www.the-exponent.com/tag/religious-feminism-podcast/

Links to Connect and Learn More:

Race and the Making of the Mormon People

Why Mormons Don’t Like Trump

History Lessons: Race and the LDS Church

Why I Went Back to Church

What’s coming for religion in 2018?

Max’s blog (where he will be writing about his “Agnostic Christian” project throughout 2018): maxperrymueller.com

Max on Twitter: @maxperrymueller

Additional Resources Discussed in the Podcast:

A House Full of Females: Plural Marriage and Women’s Rights in Early Mormonism, 1835-1870  by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

The Trek Continues! by M. Russell Ballard, 2017

 

 

Religion of a Different Color: Race and the Mormon Struggle for Whiteness by W. Paul Reeve

If There Is No Struggle, There Is No Progress by Frederick Douglass, 1857

Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests (SNAP) 

 

 

Moral Man and Immoral Society: A Study in Ethics and Politics (Library of Theological Ethics)

Letter From Birmingham Jail by Martin Luther King Jr., 1963

Mormon women march for entry into priesthood

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