Exponent II's Blog, page 30

A Child Is Not a Retirement Plan

There’s a common saying that many of us teach to younger women: “A man is not a financial plan.” Meaning, a woman needs to be able to take care of herself, in some fashion, because she can’t and shouldn’t rely on having a man to take care of her. He may die or divorce her. He may not be able to support a family alone. He may never even show up in the first place.

Along those same lines, too many people’s retirement plans involve moving in with their children or involve the expectation that children (daughters, really) will become caregivers in or out of the home in old age or will be the ones providing the emotional labor of selecting and arranging for a nursing home if that becomes necessary.

As I’m approaching middle age without the children I wanted to have, I’m faced with the reality that I need to figure out what will happen to me when I can’t take care of myself anymore. Even if I do get a chance to have children, I don’t want to burden them with the need to care for me while they’re also trying to take care of themselves and possibly their own children. A child is not a retirement plan.

Realistically, I probably have at least 50 more years left on this earth. My family lives long. I have 27 years left before I can collect my full pension from my job (and I thank my lucky stars I even have one; until I started my current job 3 years ago, I was planning on having to work until the day I died). I don’t know how many of those years will be spent in good health and how many will be spent in poor health. And society doesn’t have conversations for what happens to unmarried and/or childless people. I have no nieces or nephews, which is the oft-touted “solution” to childlessness in the church.

I joined AARP a couple of months ago because a friend recommended it to me for the discounts on restaurants and such. You don’t have to be retired or even close to retirement age to join; anyone can. The book section recommended several books on aging alone. I have a few on order and I’m going to get to reading once they arrive. Hopefully I’ll be able to get some useful information there.

In a society where many people do not have a partner or a child, there needs to be more of a conversation on how to plan for the eventuality of incapacity. Even people who do have children need to plan for what to do. There’s no guarantee that one’s adult children will be able to provide assistance.

Maybe once I figure out a few answers, I can propose a fifth Sunday lesson topic or a weeknight Relief Society meeting. What plans do you all have for old age? I’m open to ideas!

No Man’s Land

Stalemates are inevitable in war. Both sides are locked in heated battle, refusing to give up even an inch of their land.

The distance between them creates a land in and of itself; a land owned by neither party.

Both sides dig their bunkers, resting the barrels of their guns along the edges, aiming toward this forbidden land.

There is hardly anything more vulnerable than stepping foot on No Man’s Land. A soldier who does is asking for death.

And yet, somewhere in the French countryside, a beautiful thing took place on Christmas Eve of 1914.

In the height of World War I, snowfall brought German and British forces to a sudden halt. No Man’s Land was quiet and covered in white frost.

The British were shocked at what happened next.

Private Albert Moren recalled, “It was a beautiful moonlit night, frost on the ground, white everywhere. About seven or eight in the evening there was a lot of commotion in the German trenches and there were these lights – I don’t know what they were.
And then they sang ‘Silent Night’ – ‘Stille Nacht’. I shall never forget it; it was one of the highlights of my life. What a beautiful tune.”

This simple yet bold act of communion lead to further – and bolder – attempts. Some German soldiers waved white flags, asking the British for a truce. They insisted that they would not shoot and asked the British to do the same.

The British popped their heads up over the barriers, only to quickly drop back down – a test to see if their enemies would shoot.

But the bullets didn’t come.

German soldiers then stood up, waving their arms.

But the bullets didn’t come.

Tentatively, on Christmas morning, they climbed out of their bunkers and stepped foot on No Man’s Land. One can only imagine the bravery this took; a leap of faith in trust for those who were their enemies, men who they had been locked in vicious battle with for months.

They sang songs, exchanged gifts, and even played soccer. Christmas, it seems, brought enemies together.

But not for long.

Leaders and top commanding officers on both sides did not approve of the affair. They feared it would weaken their soldiers’ resolve to fight. Commanders even monitored casualty rates. If the rates seemed lower than usual, they issued raids to foster the correct “fighting spirit.”

Let’s think about that for a moment.

It’s important to note the unfortunate callous disregard for human life in the midst of war. But beyond that, it is disconcerting that leaders would ever discourage a truce. A cease fire. Peace.

You see, winning is far more important.

Perhaps even more unfortunate is the loyal soldier. Soldiers trained and prepared to fight and protect in a war that they didn’t even start; pawns in a bloody game of chess, pressured to aim their crosshairs at men who aren’t too different from themselves, then forced to pull the trigger.

A British soldier named Murdoch M. Wood observed, “I then came to the conclusion that I have held very firmly ever since, that if we had been left to ourselves there would never have been another shot fired.”

After the truce of Christmas day, fighting resumed the very next morning. Friends became enemies once again. As if the previous day never happened.

This story cannot be said for the rest of the battlefield on this fateful Christmas day. Truces were uncommon. They were rare, in fact. Officers went out of their way to make sure they never happened. Adolf Hitler, a corporal at the time, reportedly said, “Such a thing should not happen in wartime. Have you no German sense of honor?”

Unfortunately, this Christmas truce was an anomaly. Though the soldiers saw wartime through a very different lens, the officers held all the power. Their desire to win and crush their enemies overruled the soldiers’ resolve for peace.

Some who asked for a truce, and took the step into the open field, were shot in the back.

Make no mistake, we are in a war. At least, that’s what we’re told.

We are trained as loyal soldiers to defend and protect the church – and supposed “truth” – even if it is at a great cost.

This has been ingrained in our church culture early on, back when members took oaths in the temple to avenge the blood of the prophets.

The Mountain Meadows Massacre has been spotlighted in the media with the premier of American Primeval. The representation isn’t historically accurate (though I find the true history behind the event to be even more horrific than what is portrayed in the show). I won’t go into details now, but if anyone is unaware of the incident, I suggest you research it.

For the purposes of this post, I will share that members of the church murdered about 120 innocent emigrants, including women and children, and framed the Native Americans for plotting and executing the attack.

I was shocked to learn that it took the church 150 years to “express regret” for the incident.

But don’t get your hopes too high. The church spokesperson made clear that “expressing regret” was not the same thing as an apology.

We all know that the church never apologizes.

Though the blood oath is gone from the temple now, and the 120 dead have long since been buried, the culture of “us vs. them” mentality is still alive and well.

After an honest look at history, it can be argued that Mormonism has hurt more people than they themselves have been hurt. We have persecuted and oppressed and even murdered “others” more than those others have done to us.

We can only play the victim card for so long.

I understand that we have a sensitive and trauma filled history. But that does not give us the excuse to pretend that our behaviors and actions do not matter; that we owe no one an apology or accountability.

We don’t hesitate to teach about our own persecutions in Sunday School. Just about every member is familiar with the murders of Latter-day Saints in Missouri, the governor’s Extermination Order, and the church’s trek out west to seek religious freedom.

Yet so many members are ignorant to the many massacres that took place in early Utah, where we murdered far, far more than what took place in Missouri.

We’re ignorant that Brigham Young signed his own version of an extermination order to eliminate hostile Native Americans, even though the Mormons were the ones who were infringing on their lands.

We’re ignorant that Native American slavery was legalized by Young, resulting in the enslavement of over 400 Native American children.

I do not share this to attack the early Saints or even Brigham Young himself. I share this solely because it is the truth. It is part of our history that has been ignored for far too long.

We cannot honestly look at our history and act as if the bad never happened. We cannot portray ourselves as the victims and never the perpetrators. Because it simply isn’t true.

Yet we soldiers march on. We are persuaded that we are the persecuted ones, our leaders convincing us that this is so; convincing us that our enemies – “Anti-Mormons”, the media, the LGBTQ+ community, feminists – are worthy of sniper attacks and that No Man’s Land is a necessary separation.

I don’t know about you, but I’m done fighting in a war that I never started.

Will you be the soldier who opens fire, sending a barrage of hate and vitriol at our perceived enemies?

Will you be the leaders sowing discord and discontent, riling up the soldiers to commit even greater acts of harm?

Or will you be like the brave soldiers on that Christmas day, stepping onto No Man’s Land with your hands raised, silently pleading, “Please, please… don’t shoot.”

The choice is yours.

And a message to the church: A church that professes so much about agency can certainly practice it. It is in your power to ask your loyal soldiers to place their weapons down. It is your responsibility to own up to, and apologize for, our own transgressions and mistakes.

It is your duty to set the example of what a humble, integrity filled church looks like.

Will you allow your soldiers to place their weapons down and retire from their posts?

Will you lead us on a path toward abundant and overflowing Christlike love and compassion, the likes of which the church has never seen before?

Will you be brave enough to step foot onto No Man’s Land?

The choice is yours.

Photo by Crina Parasca on Unsplash

Sources: World War I Christmas Truce of 1914: What Really Happened | TIME

Mountain Meadows Massacre – Wikipedia

No One Deserves Your Total Trust Except God, Especially Not Prophets

The feature art for this post is “Abraham” by Lorenzo Monaco (Piero di Giovanni) Italian, ca. 1408–10.

When Your Choice to Follow a Prophet Disintegrates Your Family

This American Life recently featured an intriguing episode created by journalist Zach Mack about a bet Zach’s father wagered. If ten prophecies by Julie Green, his dad’s preferred prophet, were fulfilled as she predicted in 2024, Zach would owe his dad $10,000, But if these prophecies weren’t fulfilled, his dad would owe him $10,000. As Zach describes, Julie Green is “part of a growing movement within Christianity that emphasizes spiritual warfare and politics. It’s all very Trumpy and full of prophecies.” To give you an example of the prophecies, they include things like, “Barack Obama will be convicted of treason, Joe Biden will be convicted of treason, Nancy Pelosi convicted of treason, the Clintons convicted of treason and murder.”

As you can already tell, Zach’s Dad lost the bet and paid up. Did this experience make him think twice about his trust in Julie Green’s assertions as the “great revelator” she claims to be? Not at all. He just made the excuse that these things are still yet to come and still feels certain they will happen soon. Part of the problem with making sacrifices to please prophets is that there is always a creative albeit absurd way to justify the outcome being different than you once believed. Gave up all your property and money to please a prophet and it turns out the world didn’t end? You might just end up believing your righteous obedience saved the world instead of seeing the reality that you have behaved foolishly.

When Zach’s parents got married, his dad wasn’t religious, but over the years he became invested in conservative, politically-focused forms of Christian faith. His family respectfully made space for his evolving worldviews, but things started getting more and more strained as he started following online prophets. This loyalty led to new big financial decisions, which he often made without his wife’s consent. Around this time, his daughter came out to him as gay.  Zach’s dad made it clear didn’t respect her identity or path and that he felt certain a gay life was not what God willed for his daughter. The daughter stopped visiting home. His wife communicated that she would not tolerate him investing in survivalist purchases without her permission. He wasn’t willing to adjust his behaviors and they decided to separate just before Zach came home for Christmas. He lost his bet with Zach at the end of December. Even after all these losses, Zach’s dad asserts utter confidence he sees things from a superior, unquestionably right perspective due to the spiritual experiences he’s had. He isn’t open to correcting ways his beliefs and loyalties damaged his nuclear family. (It seems to me underneath the surface, Julie Green’s voice is so important to him because it speaks to and validates his personal anger and alienation as person, and that he has chosen to make this way of addressing personal wounds and anxieties his top priority in life, even at the cost of family.)

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ Q15 are not making predictions about political celebrities, but they do stand on platforms that encourage members to take a conservative high ground and act like confident cultural warriors. They, like the voices Zach’s dad was listening too, contribute to homophobia and transphobia festering within and harming families. They also motivate behaviors they desire in other people by asserting esoteric knowledge about the imminence of the events wrapped up into Jesus’ coming. They, like other prophets, demand great loyalty and sacrifices from their adherents. At a stake conference a year ago, my stake president shared something straight out of a top-down directive. He told members to listen to the GAs instead of academic research, resources, voices and communities online, or even personal thoughts and feelings. We were reassured LDS prophets are actually not out of touch with our life experiences. I wondered how I could stomach future stake conferences if this is the direction they are taking. I’m very concerned they tend to put upholding their own authority over the well-being and growth of members, a symptom of arrogance and self-importance, a temptation for all prophets.

I see religious and prophetic loyalty causing the same kind of damage happening in Zach’s family happening in Mormon families around me. As women around me are coming out to family members about no longer participating in church, loved ones who prioritize church loyalty respond with disrespect and arrogant spiritual judgments. You’re deceived by the philosophies of men. You’re choosing for your kids to be denied exaltation. You’ve been led away by the evil one. Religious certainty is wreaking havoc in parent-child relationships especially.

Putting total trust in prophets who claim unquestionable knowledge is hazardous to relationships. Such an approach simply doesn’t make sufficient space for human agency or for respect for differences of belief or practice. Stances of superiority and certainty are found across many prophet-led and other conservative religious worldviews. Take Islam. I recently learned the bizarre fact that Muslim converts are often actually called “reverts” because of Mohammed’s teaching that every pre-created human self promised Allah to conform to Islam. It’s a common belief that everyone is born Muslim and that human newborns have an in-born affinity for Islamic faith, but demons and parents with false traditions lead the world’s children spiritually astray. While I appreciate how many Islamic practices help people lead more meaningful lives, I would argue these superiority-touting teachings aren’t healthy or at all optimal for relationships within families or relations across faith and cultures, esp. in today’s globalized world. Latter-day Saints and so many other groups are no better as we also teach that others will need to conform to our rituals and ways of thinking to return to God’s presence.

Healthy, horizontal relationships look more like, yes we see things differently and our identities are different, but none of us is superior or completely certain of things as they really are. No one knows or sees everything. Let’s respect each others’ differences and choices and treat each other as equals. Let’s make decisions that affect all of us together whenever possible while trying to make space for everyone’s needs. 

A Faith That Works: Wisdom from the Twelve Steps

Recently I chatted with a fellow Mormon feminist about our discontent at church. Neither of us feel spiritually fed there. Many current messages fail to resonate as helpful or grate upon the values and principles we want to live by. We discussed our fatigue with endless claims to be the one true, authoritative faith and promises we’ll find fulfillment by adhering to the words of General Authorities. We’re not invested in farming out our personal spiritual authority anymore, and we don’t feel LDS prophets are supporting women properly. What can I trust in? I asked her. How can I move forward from my old ways of thinking and keep making meaning while building on my past faith and spiritual experiences? When Church itself has become riddled with anxiety, anger, and disappointment, how can I maintain a faith that works? 

She suggested I might find some clarity by studying the wisdom of the Twelve Steps Program, which teaches that part of healing is placing trust in the divine instead of other humans. Humans will always let us down at some point. They are limited, biased, and possibly mentally ill, ill-informed, selfish, controlling, or misled, and they will mess up and hurt us at some point. Humans can’t deserve our total trust and confidence. As one woman shares in the S-Anon Twelve Steps handbook my friend sent my some pages from (all quotes come from this source):

“Today I know that human beings have diseases and that they fail, but God does not fail. As long as I continue to trust my Higher Power with my life, I believe that I will be OK.”

Another passage says:

“We are familiar with dependence; in the past we depended upon other people as our source of security, validation and comfort. We see that it does not work for us to depend emotionally and spiritually on another. Now, instead, we can depend upon a Higher Power with the strength to guide us in times of need and indecision. We can be confident that God is always there for us and always desires the greatest good for us. Anyone can begin to tap into this source.”

The program teaches individuals to give up unhealthy ways of attaching to people, frameworks, and institutions they have clung to for a sense of safety, certainty, or a sense of worthiness. One prompt I found in the handbook asks:

“What thing, person, belief, or way of life might I be clinging to desperately? Being rigorously honest, what am I most afraid to surrender?”

The program also teaches participants to turn away from putting too much pressure on ourselves to fix ourselves and our lives, other people and institutions. Ultimately, we don’t put total trust in our own capacities or discernment either:

“For many of us who thought we could only trust ourselves, the concept of surrender seemed truly frightening. Yet through obsessing about others’ opinions and clinging to unrealistic expectations for ourselves and them, had we not essentially turned over our will and lives to the care of other people?…Now we can…let go of desperately trying to play God in our lives.”

The only being in the universe that deserves total trust, and in which case total trust is healthy and helpful for us, is God (or a Higher Power). My friend encouraged me to see that I already have a healthy and supportive relationship with God. She invited me to lean into this relationship more fully just as people in AA groups do. 

Step three of the Twelve Step Program is all about changing our stance such that instead of giving complete trust to people, we hand this trust to God. We trust that no matter what happens, God is there for us. God will help. We will make it through, and we can spiritually grow and find healing and peace with God’s accompaniment, come what may. Here is what 12 step participants have to say about the choice to truly put trust in God rather than humans:

“Surrendering to my Higher Power was the only way to feel calm, clear, serene, and safe. Step Three told me that I was not alone and that regardless of circumstances, I would be O.K. I could trust that my Higher Power had a plan for me that was better than I could imagine.”

“The only solution to my fear, my desire to control, and my feelings of victimization has been to live one minute at a time and to act as if I trust God”

“I trust my Higher Power to alert me to what I need to know.”

“We learned to depend upon a real Higher Power—one with the strength and wisdom to help up in times of need and indecision.”

“I’m grateful that I can trust that I will always be in the care of my Higher Power whose perspective is so much wider than my own, and that with each decision I face, I can choose His will for my life with confidence.”

To be absolutely clear here, we’re talking about personal, direct spiritual connection with the divine here, not any content dictated by religious organizations or leaders. 

This alternative approach offers the possibility of resilient faith that can work and thrive in the face of so much that has gone amok in institutional religious life. I love how this literature describes how step three can reshape our perspectives about God:

“As we were willing to make this leap of faith (step 3), we began to believe in a God who is loving, forgiving, and encouraging to us. We felt free to shed old concepts of God that made us feel ‘apart from’ or unworthy, and we began to understand new and hopeful spiritual concepts.”

The program also teaches the importance of detaching from dependence on things and people we have been too reliant on (or codependent with). To me, this seems applicable for all of us who our in some kind of transition in our relationships with the institutional church:

“Detachment–letting go of our need to control people–enhances all our relationships. It opens the door to the best possible outcome. It reduces our frustration level, and frees us and others to live in peace and harmony.”

“Detachment means we care about ourselves and others. It frees us to make the best possible decision. It enables us to set the boundaries we need to set with people. It allows us to have our feelings, to stop reacting and initiate a positive course of action. It encourages others to do the same. It allows our High Power to step in and work.”

Healthy detachment from our dependencies allows us to be closer and more attuned to God, and to find more peace in the face of past wounds and all that is wrong around us. In sharing this, I don’t mean we all need to leave the Church or cut off all connection with Church leaders in order to heal, but I do mean part of moving forward and growing requires doing things like setting boundaries such that the Church is not given authority to determine our worthiness, relationships, roles, project or life purpose. It’s a matter of recognizing ultimately, spiritual authority and power need to rest in God’s and our hands in our lives, not in the hands of other humans.

I also like how the Twelve Steps encourages people to focus just on their own healing and growth process with God rather than on trying to fix other people:

“As we focus on our own recovery…one day at a time, and (not on others’ recoveries) we will soon begin to see the benefits, including God’s gift of serenity.”

I’m hoping to find more peace and less suffering in my relationship with the institutional church and more strength, meaning and power in my personal connection with God as I move forward. May everyone find direction and peace in their journeys of spiritual growth and expansion, and spiritual serenity in difficult times.

Guest Post: When Obedience—not Love—Is the First Law of a Church, People Suffer

by Rose

In LDS theology and temple rituals, obedience is defined as the first law of heaven. Obedience is not to God but to the living prophet whom the Church says speaks for God. When obedience, not love, is the highest value of a Church, those who are marginalized often suffer. Since the Church’s inception, at times LDS leaders have restricted BIPOC and LGBTQ members from participating fully in the Church. Over the years, LDS prophets have told women how to marry, have children, dress, talk, have sex, think, eat, work, and serve—to name a few. In patriarchal, high-demand religions, too often the most vulnerable are excluded from full inclusion in decision-making processes and some are denied salvific blessings.

Years ago, the curriculum for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints focused on Christ’s Ideals for Living, a wonderful book that emphasized Christ-like qualities that we can implement in our daily lives. The current LDS curriculum emphasizes observable practices of obedience, such as temple and church attendance, which may not necessarily indicate the internal state of an individual’s soul. Because obedience—not love—is the first law of heaven in the LDS church, sometimes leaders marginalize the vulnerable, oppress the poor and widows, and ignore the suffering of the needy.

LDS members are told to pay tithing before feeding their children, which places their children at risk for malnutrition and stunting. The Bountiful Children’s Foundation has identified over 100,000 LDS children who are undernourished, yet LDS pilots programs provides food for only a small number of these children. The LDS Church could feed its starving children with a fraction of what is costs to build one temple.

In the United States, as political leaders double down on attacking immigrants, the LDS church recently issued a statement saying that they will no longer provide any housing assistance for these vulnerable folks, many of whom has fled horrific conditions to come to America and harvest our crops, build our houses, and clean our office buildings.

LDS leaders now disallow transgender members from using church restrooms without supervision or serving in callings involving children or youth. Members who transition are punished by removing their Church membership or privileges. When Jesus said to “love one another,” he did not exempt folks of marginalized races, sexual orientation, age, immigration status, ability, or gender.

If love—not obedience—were the first law of the gospel, the LDS Church would care as much about feeding its starving children and widows, showing compassion for the unhoused and the immigrant, and respecting its LGBTQ members as it does in building temples and  investing in the stock market, while it moves to become a trillion dollar church by 2044 according to the Widow’s Mite Report.

Jesus said that those God appoints to eternal salvation have helped those who were hungry, strangers or foreigners, the sick, and those in prison.  He repeatedly served the poor, the sick and suffering, and the marginalized, and repeatedly urged both Church leaders and followers to help the poor. In the future, I will give my tithes to legitimate, transparent humanitarian organizations doing just that.

To follow Jesus, I am serving  those who are marginalized, including my neighbors who are unhoused, poor, and suffering. Instead of giving my tithing to a Church that hoards two-thirds of its tithes in investment accounts, I will be following Jesus and helping the poor instead. As Jana Reiss wrote, “At tithing settlement this year, I declared myself a full tithe-payer and explained why none of that money has gone to the Church. I don’t know what fallout there will be from this decision, if any. Frankly, whether I continue to hold a temple recommend is less important than whether at least a few kids who didn’t have food or access to education will have meals, school, and the basics. I should have done this a long time ago.”

 

Rose finds joy in serving the marginalized and in speaking up for them.

When Humanity Goes Down the Wrong Fork in the Road: Resisting Corruption and Oppression in the World and in the Church

The feature image for this post is a print of a witch burning in Derenburg, Germany, c.e. 1555.

After I wrote “On Witch Trials and Mormon Feminism,” a reader recommended that I listen to BBC’s Witch podcast series, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Part of the season finale offers a fascinating story (starting around 15:00) that I’d like to share and reflect on here.

Patricia Catherine McCabe is a member of Diné nation from New Mexico. She follows the Lakota spiritual way of life, which she describes this way: “We’re a visioning culture, and that means that we have different ceremonies to ask for input from the larger community of the rest of life and also the spiritual community, and then we receive guidance and vision for how we might go about our life in a good way.”

At one point, oppressive experiences led her to have unexpected visions of what happened to women during the witch trials in early modern Europe. As she recounts:

“I had a really hard work experience in which I was feeling really persecuted by all these men who were in a position of power, and for some reason, I feel like that just triggered me starting to have a lot of very, very detailed, powerful visions about what took place during the witch hunts in Europe. And it was pretty baffling for me, because why would an Indigenous woman from what we now call the Southwest United States be contacted by that period in history?”

These visions were accompanied by an explanation. As she recounts:

“I was told that that period was an archetypal wounding of humanity, but what I make of that is that it was a place where there was a fork in the road in our travels as human beings on the earth, and we took a fork that has been playing out in creating difficulties for us for a very long time.”

She goes on to explain how this was related to her own life and family history as an indigenous North American:

“I came to realize the way of the circle that was all across Europe, which reflect[ed] a [greater] acknowledgement of everybody having purpose and [a] role, and something to contribute, was systematically dismantled in this process, and also what I saw was that the methodologies for the way of breaking up cultures–that those methodologies were developed deeply in Europe and then they were put on the ships, and that’s how they were so effective in landing in all of the other continents and the colonization that took place afterwards. Those methodologies had been honed and developed on their own people in Europe. And so, I saw they fought it just as we as indigenous people are fighting it right now.” 

Further, the visions communicated that Patricia was being called upon to help heal the wounding that had been done: 

“I was told that there was a way to retell the story in Europe of who the woman is to creation, and who creation is to the woman, and that if we were to go and tell a different story about the sacred role, the dignity and respect of the woman, that that would actually realign all that took place during the witch hunts.” Patricia went on to organize a special series of events across Europe where indigenous women and others from around the world could gather together and retell stories about womanhood to help heal wounds. As she explains, “our function wasn’t to talk necessarily about the witch hunts, but we all knew what the context was. We all knew why we were there” and “our role was just to talk about the truth that we understood of who we are as women.” 

When asked if the great wound that started with the witch trials can be healed in some way, Pat says, “It’s already healing. I believe in the ceremony. And so we did it the way that we were told to do it, and it was received. So I have to believe that it’s all in motion right now.” 

I was deeply touched by Pat’s story and how she carried out her project and resonated with her. Learning about the witch hunts was an unexpected paradigm-shifting, spiritual experience for me. I too felt like the spirit world wanted me to understand the deeper significance of what had happened and how it relates to my own experience and the problems my own circles have faced: both American society, and the Church of Jesus Chirst of Latter-day Saints.

As I’m learning about in Dominion, Jesus, his gospel brought more kindness, tolerance and compassion into the world. His life improved civilizations, providing the once brutal western world with a new framework that valued compassion for the poor, sick, and downtrodden. 

But there is no divinity in movements that persecute and oppress like the witch trials. There is no goodness in grinding on the face of the disadvantaged and powerless and murdering for the sake of seeking power and authority. There is no goodness in excusing numbness and apathy toward the suffering of others. Such things have wrongly attached themselves to Christianity throughout the centuries. Whatever oppresses women, the marginalized, or minority cultures or forms of spirituality are a different beast that is not divine. I agree with Pat that the witch trials are a quintessential example of this wicked phenomenon, and something that has continued to be repeated since the early modern era. 

Pat’s story stoked my dissatisfaction with the oppression of women’s spirituality in Mormonism. I’m not content with a tradition in which women don’t participate in or help to create inspired content for important spiritual rites of passage and other religious rituals. I dream of an LDS community in which women take up space, in which their spiritual creativity and authority matters. A version of the Church in which they are treated as full and complete equals to men, in which top down and vertical structures don’t reign, and no one’s spirituality is oppressed.

Pat’s story also gave me a sense of seeing eye to eye and speaking heart to heart as women and people who desire a better and more free world across cultures, and a calming sense that “we’re all in this together.” I’m not indigenous, most of my heritage stems from the UK, but Pat invited me to think about how my predecessors were not just colonizers, they are also among those whose folk cultures and personal spiritualities have been suppressed, controlled, and trampled on.

The most recent histories when this clearly happened are among my Mormon ancestors. In my mind, they were not given enough freedom to flourish and to develop themselves and the meanings in their lives. The ugly and oppressive things that latched onto the restored church, including a stubborn brand of patriarchy, polygamy, the unrighteous exercise of power and authority over members and their personal lives, and the prioritization to act out of institutional survival anxiety stripped our people of good things that could have been. And these ugly turns continue to lead to new chapters now when we’re seeing many of the Church’s wisest and most spiritual and healthy people losing interest. 

As Trump’s corrupt government churns out one disturbing and dissonant action after another, I see that since Pat shared her story, the world has taken another dramatic and unfortunate fork in the road that continues the struggles that started in the early modern period. The witch trials were a tactic used to grub for greater power, religious authority, and money grubbing at the cost of women’s sanity, well-being, and lives. The men involved chose to become indifferent to immense suffering in order to puff up and benefit themselves. The same thing is happening now. Trump’s recent cruelty toward migrants and Ukraine, and his treatment of queer individuals, women, and people of color is, like the witch trials, a selfish vie for yet greater power at the cost of others’ suffering and resources. Like during the witch trials, inhumane attitudes toward consequences on others and their suffering and potential deaths is the current order of things. Also like during the witch trials, this power-grubbing and moral numbness is wrongly trying to cling to the cause of Christianity. I am deeply concerned about American men resonating with Trump and the ways they are following his lead. Disenfranchised young men are one of the reasons Trump was able to be elected again. Many American men are taking a tragic path toward hatred, misogyny, violence, dehumanization, and inhumanity. 

How much absurdity and humiliation as a people will we have to suffer before the corruption ends? How much damage will be done before things can improve? Only the American people can change this course. American men need some kind of spiritual revolution to get them in touch with better meanings and purpose, love, and compassion. 

How much dysfunction will we have to face at church before the difficulties will have any kind of truly satisfactory and healthy reparations? This week Exponent bloggers discussed why so many women are leaving the Church and why their families come with them. We discussed how women are socially and spiritually oppressed at Church and the common experience of reaching a point when nothing at Church really nurtures or supports women as they graduate from young adulthood and develop greater spiritual maturity. 

We truly need both our country and our church to wake up and move down a different fork in the road if these institutions are to flourish.

How do we resist? On the national or global level, this can be by refusing to become like Trump and his followers. By refusing to be numb to suffering. By refusing to become hateful, bigoted, or egotistic. By refusing to buy into Trumpers’ Christian nationalism and their arrogant and cruel approaches to those on the margins. By refusing to let the upset we feel ruin the meaning and goodness of daily life. By cultivating joy and healing and flourishing for ourselves and the people around us in the midst of it all.

At church, we can resist oppression by refusing to let the Church’s failings and numbness to women’s needs and suffering squelch our spiritual growth or embitter us. It’s tempting to let complaints, anger and grief about Church take over the spiritual dimensions of our lives and distract us from the question of how we want to live. Resistance can look like setting boundaries and detaching from whatever level of church commitment we would resent. It looks like following where our deeper Self or soul leads us to grow, developing new spiritual gifts, exploring spiritually, and taking up new compassionate and creative projects. Resistance for me right now looks like still attending Church, but realizing that Church literally takes just two out of 112 waking hours in my week that don’t matter or nourish me nearly as much as they used to. The real spiritual work of my life is happening outside of this every day. Connection with God and spiritual values and practices matter even more than they used to. Meanwhile, the importance of the Church and its way of thinking and what it wants me to do are fading.

Exponent II and its community are also a wonderful form of resistance and healing in both arenas. Pat’s words give me hope in the power of feminist Mormon projects like Exponent II to heal wounds of misogyny, spiritual abuse, and oppressive Church policies through words that we share. There is spiritual power when women raise their voices. Healing, peace, and empowerment can come to us as we define womanhood, Mormon history and spirituality in circles here. We evoke immense growth and healing for ourselves and others through our words. Like Pat, I have faith we’re doing inspired, much needed, healing work at Exponent II and other similar communities. Our task as Mormon feminist writers and thinkers is really daunting right now. But it has never been more needed or vital.

The Fat Lady at Martial Arts

Three times a week (if I’m lucky) for an occasionally punishing hour, I punch, kick, block, wield a staff or nunchuck, and generally feel like a ridiculous person. I’m a fat lady who does martial arts.

Sometimes I’ll catch a glimpse of my body in the window reflection and just…wish. That my body met basic expectations of thinness. That I could just be thin. That I would love that quick flash of my self in the window or the mirrors. That I could look at her without that immediate pang of inadequacy.

And then I mentally kick myself and remember why I do martial arts. It’s not a punishment for my fat body or even a quest to remove my body fat. It’s because movement is generally good for the body and I like taking out my rage on ping pong balls with a nunchuck. It’s an act of love for my body exactly as I am.

Without dropping a pound in the last two years, I am now able to:

Bend over and touch the floorLift my body higher when we do yogic stretchingFeel core muscles that haven’t been seen since I gave birth eleven years agoMaintain a meditative practiceMemorize whole sequences of movement (though hardly ever their given names)

I enjoy the mind/body aspects of breath work and meditation. Memorizing movement sequences combats my fear of future dementia. I have the rudiments of self defense.

I leave martial arts feeling flexible and strong. My mind feels shower clean when I leave, no matter the state of my mood and mind when I drag myself through the door to class. Our energy movement exercises have become some of my favorite, especially after a difficult day. I often visualize the frustrations and anxieties literally being flung from my body.

None of these things are going to lower the number on the scale, but they increase my quality of life.

Of course, my uniform doesn’t actually fit me. I cannot wear the pants. They were created in a paradigm that, in addition to defaulting male, equates bigger sizes with height rather than width. My top is hopelessly too long and yet not quite wide enough. My bottoms are made for the narrow hips of the male body, leaving me in need of much more ease along the widest part of my body if I want to bend over.

I think about sewing my own pants. I think about redesigning the Gi to fit me, the body I have right now, properly.

I think how much easier it would be to just have clothes that fit. That I wouldn’t have to stand out by wearing an ill-fitting and incomplete uniform, class after class, and catch a glimpse of how different I look in the window or mirrors.

During a particularly punishing sequence when I was testing up a level, we had to hold positions for at least thirty counts and potentially up to over a hundred counts. As my legs fought for a squatted T-position, with torso twisted and arms angled, my muscles burned, my balance wobbled, my arms threatened to drop. Instead, I remembered that I had been pregnant, experienced labor and post partum, and that if my body could survive that pain, it surely could do this as well. It did.

My instructor congratulating me on achieving 3rd Section. I am now a 5th Section student*.

I used to think of my body as a weakness, a problem. But my body is actually quite resilient. It has seen a few things and carried me through.

I mean, while wearing a uniform that doesn’t fit, my body has successfully:

Held my arms in pose for three whole minutes without droppingSpun a staff over my head and behind my backMoved a spinning nunchuck from one hand to the other and back againMade my spine twist in previously unforeseen waysWalked smoothly in a bagua circle without moving my upper body

I’m a fat lady in martial arts class who mostly looks (and feels) ridiculous, but I’m also a capable person who is engaging in an activity that brings me joy and strength. No matter how many times I catch that glimpse of myself in the mirror and feel that pang, I belong in this space, fat body and all. There’s a martial arts style for every body and a body for every martial arts style. Fat really doesn’t have anything to do with it.

*Personal photo shared with permission of my instructor

Cover Photo by svklimkin on Unsplash

Guest Post: Can We Stop Talking About Motherhood?

by MM

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we have a preoccupation with motherhood. With concepts like “Every woman is a mother” and “Mother in Heaven” and celebrations of Mother’s Day happening in United States-based congregations every year, motherhood is clearly an important topic for members of the church. 

Well, I’m tired of it. I recognize that people may be uncomfortable with me saying this. Many women have made difficult choices and sacrifices to become mothers and many feel so fulfilled by this. I’m not suggesting that women cannot find joy and purpose in motherhood. What I am saying, though, is that I’m exhausted by pretending every woman is a mother and that motherhood is the universal female experience. 

To be clear, this is not just something touted by the mainstream church organization. Even more nuanced spaces often talk about how women’s spirituality is different than men’s because women understand sacrifice more because they are mothers. Society overall has an obsession with women as mothers. But people of Mormon backgrounds seem particularly focused on motherhood. 

I do not have children. Right now, that is my choice. I don’t feel ready to be a mother yet. Because I am actively choosing to not be a mother, I am tired of that label being put on me. I’m not a mother. I do not know what it is like to comfort a toddler sobbing in the night. I do not know what it’s like to give birth and lactate and suffer from post-partum depression. It does a disservice to the women who do experience those things to suggest that I understand those experiences, just because I am a woman. I don’t. 

I can barely scratch the surface of the topic of infertility. It is a complicated subject with many women having deep, painful feelings. I personally think the “every woman is a mother” just encourages people to avoid having empathy for those struggling with infertility. Instead of sitting with women in those difficult feelings, they can just say, “Well, you’re still a mother!” and move on. 

Furthermore, as a woman who is currently childless by choice, I am tired of people assuming that I am infertile! I guess I’m glad that people are willing to hold space for those who struggle with fertility. But is there no space for someone waiting until God tells her the time is right to have children? Numerous times, I have had people apologize that I cannot have children, when I have never said that is the case! But in our church, we tend to think that no woman would choose to not have children. After all, women are nurturers by nature … right?! 

I feel infantilized at church, particularly in Relief Society. When we act like motherhood is the universal female experience, birth becomes a rite of passage and women cannot be grown women until they have experienced it. Sometimes I feel that we separate women at church into two categories: 

MothersWomen who are not yet mothers. 

As a woman in the second category, I often feel treated like I’m still barely out of Young Women’s. Relief Society discussions focus on how to raise our children and teach them. 

In fact, I have even found the easiest way to broach difficult topics at church is to say, “If I have children, how do I teach them _____?” People light up. They love it. It’s handled way better than me saying, “I don’t know how to sit with ______.” In fact, the times I have framed something as my own difficulty, I have been bombarded with older members of the ward telling me I would understand more when I got older and had children of my own. So now, I just frame my questions as a dutiful “future mother” trying to prepare to teach her children. 

But sometimes, I don’t want to make changes for my future, currently non-existent children. So many women who fight for change in the church do it for their daughters and granddaughters, which is certainly noble and inspiring. I just want it for me, though. I don’t have a daughter yet, and I may never have a daughter. I want things to be better for me. I don’t want to have to wait until my granddaughters are grown for the culture to change. I want to be fed and nourished and to serve with everything I have. I want to believe I have value outside of my mothering. I want my opinions and thoughts to matter today. 

But framing it as wanting change for me sounds selfish, and you know who isn’t selfish? Mothers. Mothers are arguably some of the most selfless people on earth, and that is glorified with phrases like “angel mothers.” Perhaps that’s another reason people default to motherhood being equal to womanhood. Otherwise, they have to deal with “selfish” women. 

I even find myself trying to prove that I have maternal instincts now. I teach music lessons, and when a student feels comfortable enough to try something new, I often find myself saying “See. I can do this ‘mom’ thing. I can nurture.” When I play with my nieces, I feel myself wanting to get it right so I can look like a good non-mother. When really, I want to have fun with my nieces because I love them and they’re awesome! I help my students grow because I’m a good teacher! I believe God helps me, but not because it’s my “motherhood training.” 

I want to be myself. Maybe that is selfish. Maybe that’s why I try so hard to prove I have that nurturing gene. But at the end of the day, I am tired of being labeled as a mother or even as a non-mother. Labeling me by my motherhood status just defines me by one tiny part of my life. I am an individual person, today, now, without my children. I want women to be treated as individuals after they have children. Women have dreams and hopes and plans and aspirations and personalities. I desperately want women to be seen for those things, regardless of their motherhood status. 

Even the feminine divine is defined by her relationship to motherhood, not her individuality. She is “Heavenly Mother” or “Mother in Heaven,” not “Goddess.” 

So, please, can we stop talking about motherhood? Or at the very least stop treating it like the universal female experience. I am a grown, individual woman. I don’t have to nurture to prove it. I don’t have to give birth or adopt to prove it. I shouldn’t have to do those things to have my voice heard and respected. 

 

MM is a passionate opera singer living in the Pacific Northwest.

(Note: Meme made by myself!)

 

Unpaid Clergy Isn’t the Flex You Think It Is

Every now and then, we will hear a talk in general conference or the local ward about the merits of “unpaid clergy.” Anyone can serve, they say. Sacrifice is the key to devotion. Our church must be extra true because people don’t even need to get paid to serve in it.

But when compared to the intentional, often extensive process that paid clergy members from other religions go through, the idea of an unpaid clergy starts to lose its appeal. 

Other churches require rigorous education, often a master’s degree in divinity. They complete an internship under the supervision of other clergy members. They are interviewed and must agree to a specific standard of practice. And they are able to do all of this because they know they will be paid. 

Unpaid, in almost every instance, means untrained. As anyone in the church will acknowledge, bishops, stake presidents, area authorities, and onward are often completely untrained when entering into their leadership callings. They are tasked with the spiritual and mental well-being of their membership, yet such a high-stakes calling is left to the dentist down the road or your aunt’s financial advisor. 

Often, the argument for calling untrained clergy is that God will qualify them. We are told that once the mantle of the calling is placed upon them through proper priesthood authority, God will give them the skills, knowledge, and discernment to know how to operate in their leadership capacity. 

But the church doesn’t do this with other types of health or well-being. Spiritual and mental well-being is easily sourced through unpaid, untrained leaders whom God can qualify one day to the next, but physical health requires a trained, competent doctor. Apart from fringe members, it’s unlikely you’ll find a leader in the church who tells you to visit a doctor who is unpaid and untrained to help with your physical illness. Instead, we hear talks about the blessings of modern medicine and tout the merits of a prophet who saved countless people’s lives through his extensive knowledge and training in heart surgery. 

Beyond the lack of training, the toll that such leadership callings take on the man and the man’s family is staggering. This unpaid position he didn’t ask to fill now requires him to be gone from his family multiple nights a week and all day on Sunday on top of the job he is already working to provide an income. I have heard from many different clients in my therapy practice feelings of an “absent” father due to his excessive obligations to the church. These men who might not have been disconnected from their families otherwise are now forced into disconnection because there simply isn’t enough time in the day.

All of this leads to burnout. Placing a man in a position of responsibility for the well-being of his membership and not paying him or training him leads to burnout. It leads to this man feeling inadequate, stressed, and overworked. It leads to his wife feeling the same. The members who look to this man for support are left with “bishop roulette” because no standard of care or training exists. All they can do is hope they get a “good one.”

From the earliest days of the church, the idea of seeking out trained professionals to help with specific needs was encouraged. Dallin H. Oaks said, “The use of medical science is not at odds with our prayers of faith and our reliance on priesthood blessings. When a person requested a priesthood blessing, Brigham Young would ask, ‘Have you used any remedies?’ To those who said no because ‘we wish the Elders to lay hands upon us, and we have faith that we shall be healed,’ President Young replied: ‘That is very inconsistent according to my faith. If we are sick, and ask the Lord to heal us, and to do all for us that is necessary to be done, according to my understanding of the Gospel of salvation, I might as well ask the Lord to cause my wheat and corn to grow, without my plowing the ground and casting in the seed. It appears consistent to me to apply every remedy that comes within the range of my knowledge, and [then] to ask my Father in Heaven … to sanctify that application to the healing of my body.’”

If we believe that using faith alone to treat physical ailments is “inconsistent according to [our] faith,” why do we believe that faith alone is enough to treat spiritual or mental ailments? Why do we insist that God “qualifying” the leaders of our congregations is enough?

I sometimes wonder if it simply comes back to the money. I wonder if the church doesn’t want to invest the money in paying qualified individuals to do the work. If that’s the case, they need to reexamine the costs. The quality of a bishop’s leadership impacts every facet of a congregation, down to a struggling family’s need for food. If he is burnt out or overwhelmed, his congregation will feel it, and everyone, including his own family, suffers as a result.

Celebrate Women’s History Month with Exponent II!

This Women’s History Month, we are participating in and hosting events in the Utah-area and some of them will also be live-streamed. We have also launched a limited-edition Women’s History Month “Founding Mothers” to honor those whose shoulders we stand upon. Learn more about all the ways to get involved this month below.

And, if you are able, we also encourage you to support Exponent II this month by signing up for a subscription, gifting a subscription, making a donation, or simply telling a friend about us. A $20-$45 subscription can go a long way to support the work of hundreds of women. Thank you for being a part of our 50-year history!

Shop Women’s History

This Women’s History Month support Exponent II by purchasing our limited-edition “founding mothers” t-shirt from Exponent II’s Bonfire store.

Laurel, Claudia and Judy are also three of dozens of women highlighted in Exponent II’s “Illuminating Ladies: A Coloring Book of Mormon Women” illustrated by Molly Cannon Hadfield. Coloring books supplies are running low until we formalize plans for a re-print, so don’t miss the chance to order one of the final second edition coloring books!

March Events with Exponent II50 Years of Mormon Sisters and Claudia Bushman Event

March 15, 2025 
Alumni House at the University of Utah or Online

Join us at this one-day conference to honor the upcoming 50th anniversary of the book Mormon Sisters and the pioneering work of Claudia Lauper Bushman. Speakers include Claudia Bushman, Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, Judy Dushku, Maxine Hanks, Caroline Kline, Amy Hoyt, Taylor Petrey, and more! All are welcome. Learn more and register here.

Judy Dushku’s debut novel, Is This The Way Home? Launch Event

March 18 at 7 p.m. MT
Compass Gallery, Provo

Judy Dushku — political scientist, writer, feminist activist, and founding mother of Exponent II — is publishing her first novel next month, just in time to turn 83! It’s called Is This The Way Home? (2025, BCC Press).

A Women’s History Month Celebration with Signature Books and Exponent II

March 20 at 7 p.m. MT (doors open at 6:30 p.m.)
Signature Books (508 W 400 N, Salt Lake City, UT 84116)

Fifty Years of Exponent II co-authors Katie Ludlow Rich and Heather Sundahl will talk with Exponent II founding mother Judy Dushku about her decades with Exponent II, her global feminist activism, and her humanitarian work in Uganda that inspired her debut novel, Is This The Way Home?

Ten facts and fables of biblical women

In the last several years, I’ve started reading the Bible. Really reading it—not in a faith-promoting way, not to follow the Come Follow Me curriculum or prepare a lesson, not to get closer to God. But reading it like a novel, a history book, a legal code, a cautionary tale, a founding mythology, a message, a library. I wanted to know what it actually said—an impossible task, since the translation-revision-editing-run-through-the-patriarchy-rinse-and-repeat process has taken what was in the “original” books of the Bible, some of which were shared through the oral tradition generations before ever being written down, basically moot.

But more than that, I wanted to know what I thought about the Bible and its characters, its lessons and morals, its stories. For most of my life that was filtered by what LDS church leaders taught me was in the Bible. It is not a simple story of one God and one people or a story of good vs. evil. What’s there is so much more expansive, complicated, hard to make sense of, beautiful and ugly.

Through these studies, I’ve read a lot of interpretations, noticed stories and people I’d never noticed before and interpreted stories differently than I had before, particularly around the women. The Bible has some of the most incredible stories about women, and some of the most horrifying. The horrifying ones were frequently skipped in Gospel Doctrine lessons—it was too difficult to explain why it appeared that God wanted a father to sacrifice his teenage daughter and then just allowed the man—a man whom the author of Hebrews upheld as an example of faith (Heb. 11:32).

Here are a few of the things I’ve learned as I’ve studied. Some come from midrash, some from interpretation drawn from different meanings of the Hebrew words used or from the historical context of the time in question, some are straight from the text that just hit me different one day and I couldn’t go back. They’re not all pretty. But they’ve changed how I approach the Bible—they’ve given me a more honest relationship with this book.

Some scholars believe that when Ahasuerus called Vashti to him in the first part of Esther, the command was that she arrive wearing only her crown. No clothes. No wonder she refused to be paraded in front of the court.In Judges 4, Sisera might have raped Jael. Or she might have had sex with him willingly (willingly being in the context of a man of violence showing up at her door and demanding shelter). Jael is not really portrayed as a hero in the scriptures or in the discussion of scripture; she is at best complicated. Her actions were so … unwomanly, not just at the time but even when read now. She violated the rules of hospitality by betraying her guest, plus, we don’t expect such violence from a woman. If there was sex involved, it’s even more complicated because she’s violated more rules. But I see a survivor—a woman who did what she needed to do. She used the tools she had.Also in Judges 4, Deborah the prophetess is called the wife of Lapidoth. Lapidoth may not be a name, though; it means fire or flames. She’s been called the woman of fire. If you do not remember the story in Judges 4, go read it now. It is my favorite Bible story because it is a story of two women who took charge and did what they needed to do. Neither gets credit (though Hebrews 11 gives Deborah’s male partner-in-war credit, so …).Rachel steals her father’s teraphim, or household gods. When he comes in search of them and Jacob swears that the thief will be put to death, Rachel sits on them and tells her husband and father when they approach that she is menstruating and can’t rise. I imagine them panicking, backing out, scared of that “mysterious” curse that literally every woman around them has every month (Gen. 31:19-35 with a bit of extrapolation on my end). This is literally in the scriptures. Why doesn’t that get its own lesson every cycle? Pun very much intended.Zipporah was a priestess. She was the oldest daughter of a priest, and she performs a circumcision on her young son, a rite that could have required the priesthood (Exodus 4:24-26). Honestly, Moses is alive because of women. The midwives protected him, his sister Miriam protected him, Zipporah saved him.The Hebrew Bible uses the phrase “mother in Israel” twice. The first time, Deborah says it of herself (Judges 5:7). The second is said by the wise woman of Abel (the phrase “wise men” is often used to describe leaders. There’s no reason to assume “wise woman” would be any different); she intercepts one of David’s henchmen who is seeking a runaway. The henchman is a violent man who will destroy the city, and the wise woman calls her city a mother in Israel. Then she handles the situation and saves her city. Neither is an actual mother.Some Jewish feminist scholars teach about the Shekinah, or the glory of God, and that she is female. When the children of Israel were in their 40-year journey through the desert, the Shekinah was the pillar of fire that guided them in their journey. Some Christian scholars teach about Lady Wisdom (Sophia, the Greek word for wisdom, is a feminine noun.) At least one woman I know believes the Holy Ghost is female, perhaps Heavenly Mother’s official role, which tracks–most ancient Near Eastern religions believed in a husband-wife-son godhead.Job’s wife got a raw deal. I’ve already written about this once, in “Curse God and Die,” but so I’ll just say, again–she lost all her children. And then she got condemned for her grief. And then the trial was over and she just got 10 new children, as though that could make up for the loss of those other children, who are as forgotten as she is.Samson is not a hero. He gets his first wife killed—yes, I realize she told his secret to the Philistines, but let’s go back to consent and how it’s not consent when someone tells you to do a thing or they’ll kill you—he commits mass murder and he’s utterly convinced of his own strength that he acts like he doesn’t need God (Judges 14-16). And you know what the author of Hebrews 11 calls that? Yup, faith. I’m team Delilah. Or at least team It’s-Complicated-and-We-Really-Need-to-Understand-what’s-Happening-in-the-Bible-Before-We-Teach-It-to-Children.Polygamy. Was. Not. Good. At all. It doesn’t happen that often in the Bible; there are only a few noteworthy examples: Abraham, Jacob, David, Solomon. None of them goes well. There is jealousy, there is neglect, there is abuse. In Solomon’s case, what follows include total destruction of the kingdom of God. Why—why?—did anyone read this millennia later and think, “Interesting. Should we try this?”

There are many other women, many other stories, some good, some terrible. There are villains of the highest order—Jezebel and Athaliah are my favorites. There are women—girls—who had crimes perpetrated on them, supposedly by men of God, that are sickening and disturbing. Two of the worst—the daughter of Jephthah and the Levite concubine—didn’t even get names. But their stories remain, and feminist scholars have for decades given voices, identities and some small measure of justice to these victims of the patriarchy.

I no longer read the Bible as an act of faith. Now it’s an act of resistance—these stories are mine, and I will read and interpret them according to my understanding. Turns out what I’ve learned most frequently is there is right way to read or interpret the Bible.

Top photo: A rock formation on the Jordanian side of the Dead Sea. The legend is that this is Lot’s wife, the woman who was turned into salt for turning around when she thought she’d lost everything, including some of her children. She is one of many women who have been misunderstood and maligned through millennia of patriarchy in the scriptures.