Exponent II's Blog, page 60
June 17, 2024
“What I Owe Exponent II” by Nancy Tate Dredge
Come Follow Me: Alma 13-16 “Enter Into The Rest of The Lord”
Trigger warning – this lesson has descriptions of genocide.
When I signed up to write this lesson plan I picked a week that worked for me – I didn’t really pay attention to the content. About a month ago I sat down to read the chapters covered in this lesson. I opened up to Alma 13 and was SUPER confused.
Verse one of chapter 13 says, “And again, my brethren, I would cite your minds forward to the time when the Lord God gave these commandments unto his children; and I would that ye should remember that the Lord God ordained priests, after his holy order, which was after the order of his Son, to teach these things until the people.”
I had so many questions. Who was speaking? Who was he talking to? What commandments is he talking about? Why are we talking about priesthood?
After a little bit of flipping forward and backward through the chapters I realized this was Alma preaching at Ammonihah. This week’s lesson was the second half of the story of Alma and Amulek in Ammonihah. Part One is Chapters 8-12. Part Two is Chapters 13-16. I decided to write both lesson plans for this story. So I recommend you go back and read last week’s lesson plan.
If you don’t have time for that, here is a quick run down of what happened before and where we are headed with this story.
Part One
Alma goes to Ammonihah to preach.The people reject him.He leaves, but is visited by an angel and told to go backAmulek was also visited by an angel and told to help AlmaAmulek takes Alma to his houseThe both go preachThey are met with hostility by the lawyers of the cityQuestioned by ZeezromQuestioned by AntionahThey preach long sermons in response to the questionsPart Two
Arrested and taken before the Chief JudgeMen who believe are cast outWomen and children are burnedAlma and Amulek are abused in prison for many daysGod’s power destroys the prison and kills everyone inside, but Alma and Amulek walk out unharmedThey go to Sidom and find believersZeezrom is there. He is sick and haunted by what happenedHe believes and is healed.Ammonihah is destroyed by Lamanites less than a year laterContextAs with all my lesson plans I like to start out establishing some context.
Who wrote this? Mormon compiled the Book of Mormon almost 500 years after this story happened. There is a lot of dialog in this story so we can assume that this was written down much closer to the time it happened. Chapter 9 is specifically in the first person with Alma telling what he said and did. At some point over the next few chapters the narration slips back into third person.
When does this story take place? About 82 BC. This is the 10th year of the Reign of the Judges.
Where does this story take place? The city of Ammonihah which is roughly northwest of Zarahemla.
Who is mentioned by name in the text?
Alma – This the son of Alma. We often refer to him as “Alma the Younger” even though that title is never used in The Book of Mormon. He was serving as both the Chief Judge and the High Priest of the church, but he has given up being Chief Judge so that he can focus all his efforts on preaching.
Amulek – A resident of Ammonihah who helps Alma and then preaches with Alma. He says he knew of the mysteries of the Lord but would not hear them. It wasn’t until he saw an angel and helped Alma that he had a change of heart.
Zeezrom – Zeezrom’s story arc is one of the most interesting parts of these chapters. He was one of the lawyers in Ammonihah who were trying to destroy Alma and Amulek and stir up the anger of the people of Ammonihah. He is shaken by the words of Amulek and Alma and has a change of heart. He tries to stop the violence the people of Ammonihah commit and is cast out. He is sick from what he has done and is eventually healed by his faith.
Antionah – A chief ruler of Ammonihah. He asks Alma one question at 12:20-21. Alma is answering him when he is speaking in chapter 13. We don’t hear anything more from Antionah specifically so we can assume he does not have a change of heart like Zeezrom.
Chief Judge of the Land – unnamed man who repeatedly assaults Alma and Amulek when they are in prison.
Topics of this Lesson PlanIt’s impossible to cover every specific bit of theology brought up in this story in one lesson plan. So we are going to focus on two main topics here.
Zeezrom’s ConversionThoughts on the violenceExamples of Repentance – Zeezrom’s’s storyThere is a lot of talk about repenting and turning to the Lord in these chapters. What’s interesting is that this story contains three great examples of people who have repented and turned to the Lord. Alma himself once sought to destroy the church and was called to repentance by an angel. His story of his change of heart happens at the end of the book of Mosiah, and it’s not brought up in this story – but we remember that it happened. Every word Alma says about repentance is personal to him.
Amulek’s change of heart is documented in these chapters. We focused on his story arc in the last lesson.
The third person we see repenting is Zeezrom. We will look at his story arc in detail here. (Also I will be spelling his name correctly this week. Last week I often wrote his name as Zeezrum. I’ve realized that is incorrect.)
Zeezrom is first mentioned at the end of chapter 10. Verse 31 says, “And there was one among them whose name was Zeezrom. Now he was the foremost to accuse Amulek and Alma, he being one of the most expert among them, having much business to do among the people.”
Earlier in the chapter we are told a little more about the lawyers of this city in general. Verses 13-16 describe the lawyers as planning to trip up Alma and Amulek in their preaching so that they can find a reason for them to be accused and be either killed or put into prison. The reason for this is explained in chapter 11 verse 20, “It was for the sole purpose to get gain, because they received their wages according to their employ, therefore they did stir up the people to riotings, and all manner of disturbances and wickedness, that they might have more employ, that they might get money according to the suits which were brought before them.”
In Chapter 11 verse 21 we are specifically told that “Zeezrom was a man who was expert in the devices of the devil, that he might destroy that which was good.” (11:21)
Almulek is the one who is preaching when Zeezrom starts questioning him. His first step is to try to bribe Amulek. He offers him six onties of silver if he will “deny the existence of a Supreme Being.” Earlier all the monetary system is laid out so people smarter than me have figured out that six onties is the equivalent of 42 days of labor for a judge. (I found that fact in the footnote to 11:22 in my Annotated Book of Mormon.)
Amulek does not take the bate at all. He gives one of the more memorable replies of The Book of Mormon by stating, “Oh thou child of hell, why tempt ye me?” Amulek totally calls Zeezrom out for offering the money but not planning to give it to him even if Amulek denied the existence of God.
Zeezrom changes tactics. He tries to show that Amulek is lying by getting Amulek to say that there is one God, but that God also has a Son (11:26-33)
Before he’s fully developed this line of questioning he tries to show that Amulek is lying by saying that Amulek contradicted himself by saying that God would save his people – but he wouldn’t save them in their sins.
Then Zeezrom switches back to asking the questions about God. He askes “Is the Son of God the very Eternal Father?” (11:38) You can see that he is planning to use Amulek’s response against him. But Zeezrom never gets a chance. Amulek answers that question with a long explanation of God’s redemption of the righteous and his judgement of the wicked.
When Amulek is done talking we read that Zeezrom began to tremble. (11:46) And “The words of Amulek had silenced Zeezrom.” (12:1)
He is trembling because “Amulek had caught him in his lying and deceiving to destroy him, and . . . he began to tremble under a consciousness of his guilt.” (12:1)
Alma sees Zeezrom’s reaction and jumps in and starts speaking to Zeezrom in particular and the crowd in general. It’s the spike to Amulek’s bump set. Alma explains how Zeezrom has lied to God.
After hearing Alma’s words, “Zeezrom began to tremble more exceedingly, for he was convinced more and more of the power of God; and he was also convinced that Alma and Amulek had a knowledge of him for he was convinced that they knew the thoughts and and intents of his heart.” (12:7)
Zeezrom continues to ask questions, but his goal is no longer to trick Alma and Amulek. “Zeezrom began to inquire of them diligently that he might know more concerning the kingdom of God.” (12:8) He specifically wants to know more about the resurrection and judgement.
Other lawyers take over the questioning of Alma and Amulek and get back to the business of trying to trip them up. But Zeezrom is no longer interested in that. In Chapter 14 we read, “Zeezrom was astonished at the words which had been spoken and he also knew concerning the blindness of the minds, which he had caused among the people by his lying words; and his soul began to be harrowed up under a consciousness of his own guilt; yea, he began to be encircled about by the pains of hell.” (14:6)
Chapter 14 is where things come to a head. Alma and Amulek are arrested. Many of the people are whipped into a frenzy of anger against Alma and Amulek. The people come and bear witness against them using many of the arguments that Zeezrom sowed the seeds for. Verse 5 says, “The people went forth and witnessed against them — testifying that they had reviled against the law, and their lawyers and judges of the land, and also of all the people that were in the land; and also testified that there was but one God, and that he should send his Son among the people, but he should not save them; and many such things did the people testify against Alma and Amulek.”
Zeezrum tries to undo the damage he did. Verse 14:7 says, “He began to cry unto the people saying, “Behold, I am guilty, and these men are spotless before God.’”
I wonder what that was like. He was trying to push against the current of a river he made by cracking dam. Verse 7 also says, “He began to plead for [Alma and Amulek] from that time forth; but [the people] reviled him, saying, “Art though also possessed with the devil?””
Verse 7 goes on to say, “And they spit upon him, and cast him out from among them, and also all those who believed in the words which had been spoken by Alma and Amulek; and they cast them out, and sent men to cast stones at them.”
Zeezrom misses the holocaust that happens next, but he cannot escape his guilt.
When Alma and Amulek come to Sidom Zeezrom is there. Chapter 15 verse 3 says, “Zeezrom lay sick at Sidom, with a burning fever, which was caused by the great tribulations of his mind on account of his wickedness, for he supposed that Alma and Amulek were no more; and he supposed that they had been slain because of his iniquity. And this great sin, and his many other sins did harrow up his mind until it did become exceedingly sore, having no deliverance; therefore he began to be scorched with a burning heat.”
In verse 4 we read, “When he heard that Alma and Amulek were in the land of Sidom, his heart began to take courage; and he sent a message immediately unto them, desiring them to come to him.”
They did come – which shows that they could put aside their own feelings and do the work they were called to do – but I wonder what they were feeling as they went to Zeezrom.
Verse 5 says, “The found him upon his bed, sick, being very low with a burning fever; and his mind also was exceedingly sore because of his iniquities; and when he saw them he stretched forth his hand, and besought them that they would heal him.”
Now let’s pause here. What would you do? What would you think?
If you were Zeezrom, would you wonder if maybe you were past saving, past healing?
If you are Alma or Amulek, would you wonder if maybe his crimes were too much? Was he really worth saving? Shouldn’t he be punished for his guilt?
Maybe?
But remember this is a story of repentance and redemption. Alma and Amulek have also had their own change of hearts in the past. They have also become better people through turning to Jesus. They can’t deny this same opportunity to Zeezrom.
Verses 6-10 show that Zeezrom is healed by his faith in Jesus. Verse 11 says, “and this was done to the great astonishment of all the people.” Do you think they were astonished by the healing in general or by the fact that Zeezrom was the one who was healed? I’m guessing there was a lot of talk about what it could mean that even someone like Zeezrom was healed by God.
Verse 12 says that Alma baptized Zeezrom and “he began from that time forth to preach unto the people.”
Zeezrom is not specifically mentioned in the narrative again. But we can assume he helps Alma establish the church in Sidom. At some point he must move to the city of Melek and work with Amulek because Alma 31 says that they were there. (Do you think they ever had a conversation where Amukek was like, “Hey remember the time you tried to bribe me?”) In Alma 36 Alma establishes a missionary dream team to go preach to the Zoramites. He brings Amulek and Zeezrom in addition to three of the sons of Mosiah and two of Alma’s own sons.
We don’t have any specific words from Zeezrom in this later part of his life. But based on his presence there we know that he did not go back to his old ways. He stayed converted to the Lord.
Thoughts on the ViolenceIf you want a happy ending in this lesson you should probably just stop with the story of Zeezrom. Because this next part might be a downer.
This was my FAVORITE Book of Mormon story when I was a kid. I loved how Alma and Amulek’s friendship was facilitated by an angel, I loved Zeezrom’s change of heart, I also kind of liked the violence. People getting burned for what they believed – that seemed so fascinating.
As a child I accepted Alma’s answer as to why God was allowing this to happen. In verse 11 of chapter 14 Alma explains to Amulek that they can’t save the women and children from the flames. He says, “the spirit constraineth me that I must not stretch forth mine hand, for behold the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory; and he doth suffer that they may do this thing, or that they people may do this thing unto them, according to the hardness of their hearts, that the judgements which he shall exercise upon them in his wrath may be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea and cry mightily against them at the last day.”
Or in other words, “It’s okay that these people are dying because they are going to heaven. And the people doing this are going to get judged for it. So it all works out in the end.”
I accepted that explanation. And honestly it wasn’t until 2020 that I started to look at it differently. I was listening to the Maxwell Institute’s Podcast series on the Brief Theological Introduction books that the institute was publishing about each book of the Book of Mormon. Sometime at the end of May 2020 I listened to the episode about Alma 1-29. Kylie Nielson Turley was the author of this particular Theological Introduction.
She shared some really interesting points about Alma’s experience in Ammonihah. I highly recommend listening to the whole interview or even reading the book. But in the meantime here is my attempt to highlight the points that she brought up.
Alma had preached about the wicked being tormented as if “by a lake of fire and brimstone, whose flame ascendeth up forever and ever.” (12:17). This seems to have inspired the fire that the women and children were thrown into.After Alma and Amulek have been forced to watch the bodies burn, the Chief Judge of the Land asks them, “After what ye have seen, will ye preach again unto this people, that they shall be cast into a lake of fire and brimstone?” (14:14)Alma never again uses the metaphor and it never shows up in the Book of Mormon again.Just as powerful as Kylie Nielson Turley’s analysis was listening to her speak about it. She broke down in tears as she talked about the atrocities in this story.
I was on a walk while I listened to the podcast and I can still remember the exact spot where I was when I realized that maybe this story couldn’t be tied up in a nice bow. Yeah, maybe the righteous martyrs were going to heaven. But what happened to them was a tragedy. We can’t just gloss over it. We need to sit with it. Cry with it even.
The Book of Mormon for the Least of These has nearly 4 pages of commentary on this tragedy. I found this paragraph to be especially moving, “This part of the Book of Mormon deserves a lot of attention because it challenges the narratives we construct around God. Alma and Amulek’s experience teaches us this: God may not always show up in the way we need. If we do not talk about the harm to testimony and spirits in times of deep wounding, then we are not really speaking to the complexity of people’s faith and their relationship with God. Like Alma, we may not have any satisfying, complete answers to these incredibly difficult questions. But the discussion can be deep and rich and invite people to think about how they wrestle with God and make meaning from the struggles of mortality.” (Page 187)
I can’t make this part of the story happy. And even the nicer and happier parts of the story are harder to like because of what happens to the women and the children.
God cares enough about Alma to send Amulek to help him, feed him, and preach with him. Why doesn’t God care enough about these women and children to save their lives?
God saves Alma and Amulek from prison – dramatically killing all their tormentors while Alma and Amulek walk out unharmed. Why was there no such dramatic rescue for these women and children?
God loves Zeezrom enough to heal him from a fever and release him from his sins. Why doesn’t God save these people from the consequences of what Zeezrom stirred up before his change of heart?
I know the pat answers that are supposed to make everything seem okay. Sayings like, “Everything happens for a reason.” or “Suffering is part of life.” Or “God’s ways are not our ways.” However, I don’t want to cover this up with a thought terminating cliche. I want to “Wrestle with God and make meaning from the struggles of mortality.”
And I’m giving you permission to do the same. This part of my lesson plan does not have an ending. I’m not going to tell you the conclusions you should have after reading this part of Alma. You can think about them. You can wrestle with them. If you’d like to share your thoughts in the comments you can, just be respectful of people who may be sharing different thoughts and feelings.
ConclusionThere are a lot of pieces to the story of Alma and Amulek in Ammonihah. And sometimes those pieces are in conflict with each other. Zeezrom has a complete change of heart and goes from contending with Amulek to laboring to build the church with him. But there are also horrible things that happen because of Zeezrom’s actions before his change of heart. I think it’s possible to be both happy for Zeezrom and also mad at him. We don’t have to pick a side. Both feelings can be true and valid.
These kinds of conflicting things are what make scripture dynamic and relevant. These things that get a little messy make us look at our own messy lives in a different way. We can learn that actions have consequences – even if we have a change of heart we can’t always undo what we’ve already done. We can also see that God does truly redeem all who repent.
It’s interesting, and hopeful, and yes, even a little frustrating. As adults we can ponder and wonder and think about these things. This is the end of the lesson plan, but I hope its not the end of you thinking about the things that came up in this lesson.
Further ResourcesThis has been a long lesson plan and yet we’ve barely scratched the surface of what is contained in Alma 13-16. Here are a few more resources that you can look to for more ideas as you study the chapters.
1. The Book of Mormon for the Least of These -Volume Two by Fatimah Salleh and Margaret Olsen Hemming
2. A Brief Theological Introduction to Alma 1-29 by Kylie Nielson Turley.
3. Maxwell Institute Interview with Kylie Nielson Turley about her book. Click here for the youtube link.
Photo by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash
Do We Celebrate or Suppress Multicultural Identities in the Church?
June is Caribbean American Heritage Month. My great-great grandfather was from Puerto Rico and my great-great-great grandmother was from Cuba. But that isn’t something I knew growing up. I didn’t even know their names- or their posterity- my grandmother’s- name. I finally learned about her and met her years later. She was adopted by a white, LDS family and raised in their home. I wonder if they ever celebrated her heritage. I wonder if her mother, who was born in Hawaii in 1915 and lived in California in the 1930s, connected with her roots or did she feel the pull to assimilate?
Dr Claire Nelson, founder of the Institute of Caribbean Studies, also led the efforts to designate Caribbean American Heritage Month an official celebration. It is a time when we can honor their rich cultures and their contributions and achievements. As with other national heritage months, I also want to take time to reflect on the ways Caribbean culture has been suppressed due to colonization and white supremacy.
I have never traveled to the Caribbean, but I imagine if I did, I could go to any LDS church and have a pretty familiar experience. This was always presented as such a positive thing as people returned from vacations and business trips around the world and shared their travels during testimony meeting. But what is the shadow side of familiarity? And who is left out when dominant LDS culture is not just revered but codified?
Several years ago our LDS choir sang “O Sifuni Mungu,” a rendition of All Creatures of Our God and King which includes lyrics in Swahili and is accompanied by percussion instruments. It was a beautiful number and a piece that has stayed with me over time. We sang it during an interfaith Thanksgiving fireside, but were not allowed to sing it during Sacrament meeting. We had to wait for the meeting to end before we could share it with our ward.
My mission companion, an African-American sister who loved gospel music, was only allowed to listen to her favorite songs on p-day. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir was the only officially approved music during the week.
In May of 2020 the church announced 22 official images of Christ allowed to be hung in church foyers. The official artworks are all by white artists and depict the Savior as white. There are few people of color and few women. Michelle Franzoni Thorley, a Mexican-American artist, talks about the importance of diverse art in the church,
“I want children that look like me or have had experiences like me, to grow up seeing themselves in the art of the church. Media and the arts have been influencing social realities for centuries; let us make art that reflects the future inclusion we want to see.”
What is lost when we restrict the art and music allowed in LDS buildings and services? What is hidden when belonging comes with the pricetag of assimilation?
The Caribbean has a diverse tapestry of religious traditions. In his article on religions in the Caribbean, Kevon Wilson explains,
“An interesting fact about religion in the Caribbean is the existence of fusion or hybrid faiths that cannot be found anywhere else in the world. Throughout the course of Caribbean history, many Afro-Caribbean people have constructed new religious traditions. These fusions attempt to find balance as well to maintain a sense of identity. As such, the more traditional and conservative Christian theology is often fused (sometimes as a cover) with their ancestral African practices. This religious fusion helped ease African and Indian assimilation into mainstream society and gain acceptance from European colonizers.”
I hope this June we can celebrate not just the food and dress of Caribbean Americans, but also the ways they have survived and thrived through a violent history.
June 16, 2024
“When Sisters Speak” by Judy Dushku
June 14, 2024
“A Record Shall Be Kept” by Claudia Lauper Bushman
Flag Day: Why I (a military spouse) fly the American Flag *and* the Pride Flag
June is Pride Month – and it’s also Flag Day, the Army’s birthday and the lead up to Independence Day (in America). All of these celebrations include flying flags. I’m an LGBTQ+ ally and a military spouse of over 21 years, so I fly both flags together. In my mind, this shouldn’t bother anyone. In reality, it bothers a lot of people.
Eleven months out of the year, my bottom flag is the Army flag. In June, it’s a Pride Flag.People around me rarely get mad about the American flag, but boy, do some people get upset with the rainbow flag. Some go as far as to insist that the only flag flown ever, anywhere, should be the American flag. For example, I pulled these comments off of the internet:
Those are the least offensive comments that I found and am willing to share.
I realize the people posting these types of comments are generally trying to support me, a military spouse. To that motive, I say thank you! I’ve survived years of deployments and dealt with pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, surgery, babies and endless childcare all on my own. My son is named after a close friend who was almost killed by the Taliban in Afghanistan when I was pregnant, and I know widows whose husbands never returned. My country isn’t perfect, but I fly my American flag proudly and I’m very grateful to live in a land of freedom. I understand the sacrifice made by members of the military to keep it this way.
Lest there be any question of how much I love the flag, the following is a small sample of my flag oriented activities in the past. The first is when I organized a Veteran’s Day event for my large girl scout troop and their families, when I invited a veteran to teach us how to properly retire American flags.
Next is the time I took my family to the airport to welcome home WWII soldiers from an “Honor Flight” to see their memorials in Washington, D.C. We lined the airport garage with dozens of flags to welcome them back:
I’ve taken my kids multiple times to “Healing Fields” with flags representing those who died on September 11th and military members ever since. I’ve even helped set up and run them on more than one occasion during May (Military Appreciation Month).
Starting top left and going clockwise in the photo collage below: a flag with messages on my garage door after a deployment, giant flag in the national WWII museum in New Orleans, my youngest daughter holding a flag during a very early morning drop off for another deployment, hiking to a flag above Herriman, Utah with my dog, my husband and the governor of Utah with a flag in the Middle East only days before I gave birth alone at home, and a Memorial Day giant flag over Grove Creek Canyon:
And finally, these are flags my neighbors lined our street with at the end of yet another year+ long deployment:
I’ve loved the American flag my entire life, and I find myself tearing up over patriotic displays, music and flags. I know firsthand the sacrifice that so many have made for our freedom.
I also tear up when I see pride flags. Someone put one up in their back window directly across the street from the middle school my kids attend, and I know they did that for all of the queer teenagers who need to know they’re loved. I cried the first time I saw it there.
Over the years my neighborhood showed their love and support for me, a military spouse, with the American flags on my street. In a world where it’s increasingly easy to feel invisible, these flag displays made me feel supported and recognized for my contributions and sacrifice.
There are members of every community that are LGBTQ+ – some are out, and many are still closeted. I love the queer people I’ve been privileged to know, and putting up flags to celebrate them is a beautiful thing to me. I want my queer neighbors to feel the same acceptance from their community when they see a pride flag that my family felt from American flags during deployments. Neither flag diminishes the importance of the other in any way.
And just like I would feel unsafe if the flags welcoming my husband home were stolen or vandalized, the LGBTQ+ community certainly feels unsafe when their flags are torn down or destroyed. Unfortunately with pride flags there are often news stories of vandalism and theft.
As Americans we live in this incredible country with the freedom to build communities that embrace differences. There are many countries in the world where minority groups like LGBTQ people are not safe. I am so grateful to live here and to me, these flags compliment each other.
This is the flagpole behind my house from further back. We back up to a popular fishing reservoir and trail, and I hope there are many LGBTQ+ people of all ages fishing, running and biking past this month who will know they are loved.
My friend Lisa hangs this flag from her balcony year round. I want to end by quoting my friend Blaire Ostler, author of the book “Queer Mormon Theology”. Blaire said in an online interview, “It’s not like you can only love God, family and country *or* LGBTQ – no, it’s love God, family, and country *and* LGBTQ. Because guess what? We’re part of the family too, and we’re part of the country, too.”
And by the way, queer people have always fought in wars to protect our freedom. Check out this amazing parade float from Mormons Building Bridges in 2018 (photo from gay veteran, Jeff Chase):
Happy Pride Month and Happy Flag Day! (All images in this post are mine, unless otherwise noted.)
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June 13, 2024
The General Relief Society Presidency has announced a $55M nutrition program in 12 African and Asian countries.
The LDS Church announced yesterday that the Relief Society would lead the effort in collaboration with 8 nonprofits. Yesterday’s announcement is available here:
Relief Society Leads Global Effort to Improve Health and Well-being of Women and Children: The Church is giving US$55.8 million to help 12 million children and 2.7 million women | Newsroom, June 12, 2024
A video about the program is available here.
Nutrition program at LDS church in Accra, Guana
Find Shelter Here
My son, husband, and I traveled through Switzerland last month. From the 72 waterfalls in the Lauterbrunnen Valley to the piercing blue lakes and rivers to the Coca-Cola bottles filled with fresh milk for sale at Honesty Shops, Switzerland awed and delighted us again and again. But for me, it was the churches that wouldn’t leave me alone.
In every Swiss town we explored, there was at least one church, the steeples rising high above the tiled roofs and the bells tolling every fifteen minutes, gently pulling my attention and my feet to the disparate doors of the stucco or stone churches, some of them over 1,000 years old.
The church doors were always unlocked, anyone could enter. I am unfamiliar with the Protestant religion, having been LDS my whole life, and was amazed to find a small candle station within each church where small votive candles sat next to a box of matches and a tin holding a few Swiss francs. Sometimes a candle or two flickered, but usually, the candle wicks were white with wax and waiting.
My son and husband acquiesced, sat in the pews, and made faces at the stained glass windows that depicted skeletons and death while I lit candles and placed one Swiss Franc per candle in the tin. I didn’t pray but liked leaving a flame and a franc wherever I went in Switzerland. The whole country looks like a fairy tale and I started to imagine I was in one.
We often stumbled into a church just as the rain started pouring down the cobblestone streets and I couldn’t help but feel embraced by the high-ceilinged architecture. The Swiss churches in my fairy tale started calling to me, saying, “Find shelter here.” Each chapel held history written in the colorful windows, benches, statues, and wood carvings and many surprised me with depictions of ancient women. I felt like the churches were saying, “You belong here. Place your grief here. Light this candle. There is comfort here.”
I constantly searched for the spires that reached up in the air, waving at weary women searching for a home, history, and hope. It became my ritual to open the heavy doors and light a candle as we waited out the rain; The spires symbolized a place that would hold me as I am, leading me to the doors that were always open to the rich, the poor, the sinners, the women – all, come. Take a seat. Light a candle in the still silence. Rest.
But then I went to a service and I wish I hadn’t.
I wish I could have lived in the fairy tale that I designed to include me, but I stumbled into a service where for the first time the doors were locked and a man stood at a pulpit in his vestments chanting Latin with his congregants. It was fascinating but the literal image at the pulpit landed like a stone in my imagination, halting all creativity and belonging. The organized chanting of men’s words made me remember it wasn’t for me.
The scene forced me back to reality – a reality where Christian clothes and rules and rituals and buildings and language and beliefs aren’t mine. I don’t belong. I didn’t know the language or when to stand or sit or leave. I was a thief in the night, stealing beauty and meaning and shelter that didn’t belong to me.
I’d created these stories for myself and maybe they are as true as any other story and maybe that sermon was transcendent and all I needed to know was Latin, but I did this with Mormonism, too. I told myself stories about what I saw – and it was so beautiful. I made God look like me. However, when I spoke, or taught, or wrote letters, or shared my stories, bishops, counselors, and prophets corrected me, told me that the church is not what I pretend it to be. “We are the fairy tale makers,” they said. Not me.
I’d created a world where I belonged in Mormonism, where scriptures are literature and people create meaning and Heavenly Mother is who I want her to be. But then I walked in and found a man at the pulpit and people chanting in another language that I didn’t understand and I realized that I am a stranger here.
No wonder I was searching for another home, any place that wanted me. But perhaps the only place where I belong is the place I create myself.
*Featured image by Daniel Cox on Unsplash. All other photos were taken by the author.
June 12, 2024
A Conversation on Loving Day
My husband (J) and I (B) were both born in 1984, a solid seventeen years after Richard Perry Loving and Mildred Delores Jeter won their case. Laws against interracial marriage in the United States were struck down, but it took another 11 years for the LDS church to catch up by lifting the temple and priesthood ban for Black women and men. Interracial marriage arrived in the temple just six years before we were born.
I brought up this factoid while driving in the remote regions of the Westfjords in Iceland. We were celebrating our 15 year wedding anniversary with the biggest trip of our lives, and had a few hours in a car to mull over our own experiences. What follows is a rough transcript of our thoughts; edited for clarity, and punctuation added.
B: We never knew that world of deep and explicit segregation.
J: We never knew the world of deep and explicit segregation in the church and in society.
B: When we were 24, young, dumb, and broke, we got sealed in a temple without ever thinking for a minute what a revolutionary act that was.
J: I don’t think it’s revolutionary, I just think I would say we didn’t understand the progress that had been made. To me, it’s not revolutionary because that’s my life growing up with a white father and a black mother. That was just another Tuesday for me.
B: I wasn’t thinking too much about what it means to be in an interracial marriage either. We just loved each other. I wasn’t marrying a Black man. I was marrying a Jason.
J: Yes. I concur.
B: I think today I would say that being biracial is integral to who you are and so it’s really very important to recognize that aspect of your life. Our kids are biracial and my husband is biracial. I’m just happy to be connected to you all.
J: While I am biracial, it’s hard to be biracial. Very few people look at me and say, “oh he’s biracial”. Most people look at me and say, “he’s black.” I look at the kids and they are very much white passing. Some people might look at them, especially after a summer in Arizona, and say, “oh they’re probably biracial”. But like we’ve talked in the past, because of me being biracial, I fall into this gap, not black enough to be black, but definitely not white. But really at the end of the day, we know race is just a social construct. To the outside world, I’m black but I don’t think of myself as black or white. I think of myself as Jason; it’s really been like that since I was a kid. My family would ask me if I was black or white and I would respond, “I’m Jason”.
B: I think when we were young, we also had a bit of a superiority complex. My grandparents definitely harbored some unexamined racist views and your white grandmother went through her struggles to accept a biracial grandson, but that was well and truly in the past. We knew better than them.
J: yeah, you know, with your grandparents I never felt lesser or anything with them. The only way you were different in my family was that you were Mormon.
B: Do you think Brigham Young is turning in his grave over us being married in a temple? I hope that the tenacious questioners who never stopped asking for the right to love and marry in the temple, or otherwise, are at peace and full of joy that our marriage could feel so perfunctory, so normal, so non-rebellious.
J: Yeah, this marriage is and should be like any other marriage.
B: I think today we are deeply concerned with implicit racism, the lingering traumas and biases of structural racism, and better understanding the historical context that led to where we are now.
J: There’s definitely been times I’ve seen remnants of racism in and outside the church. Comments in Sunday School or at a BYU-I gathering with racist undertones in the comments.
J: We’ve seen how far we’ve come since Loving Day both racially and with sexual orientation. Is the church going to keep up?
B: I hope so, because I know that marriage to a person I love has brought me joy. I would never want that joy to be denied. Knowing it was once denied to a couple like you and me, even though today it’s pretty normal, means that we can always adapt and be more inclusive.
J: I think of my LGBTQ friend who was trying to live a double life but who is now denied the blessings of marriage in a church that he loved.
B: That’s the thing about it – love is love.
Photographer: Kate Lane
Gob smacked. Flabbergasted. Astonished. All over a simple apology.
Dear Bishop-
Last week we had a speaker in church who, from the pulpit, said some pretty demeaning and hurtful things about women, about the LGBTQ+ community, and about several social justice issues in general. I used my agency and removed myself and my daughter from the chapel and I wrote about the experience in my last post. I upheld the promise I made to all my children, to not listen to beliefs from the pulpit, or anywhere really, that speak of intolerance, hate, or that otherwise influence my ability to testify of Christ nor worship in a place that tries to deny me the authority to hear only things that are good with my soul.
That said, I went to church the following Sunday, disappointed in my experience the previous week and wondering why I’d come to church at all. That might seem hyperbolic to you, that one talk would push me out the doors of a religion I have spent my entire life learning about, serving in, finding peace from, and loving my experiences at, but what you need to recognize is that my weekly experience isn’t singular, but cumulative. It is both a testimony of and a challenge with EVERYTHING I have heard over the past four decades that have caused doubt, distrust, disbelief, disagreement, and dissatisfaction with my LDS faith, not just the one talk. The one talk was just the looming straw that threatened to break the camel’s back. Honestly, I attend each week wondering if the final straw will fall that day. I attend church each week hoping to feel enlightened when I leave, but often I feel a sinking heaviness.
And Bishop, I don’t think it’s just me who feels the heaviness.
A few weeks ago I had a Youth reach out to me to say thank you for always speaking up about things others don’t want to talk about at church. The youth said, “I haven’t been able to feel the spirit lately at church. I wish I could feel my testimony growing, but I haven’t in a long time.”
Then again, after a difficult Relief Society lesson a couple weeks ago, a random sister approached me. I had left the lesson feeling perplexed and bothered. As the class was ending, I asked a sincere question and the teacher answered with a generic version of, “Well the scriptures say so, and that is that.” A woman with a lot of authority amongst the sisters, wise in her years of experience, reached out to me and said she also struggled with the lesson and the matter of fact, black or white way it was presented. I felt validated by someone who I normally don’t see eye to eye with, and it was satisfying. No sooner did I feel things were tolerable, we had this recent sacrament speaker. It sometimes feels like coming to church is a roller coaster I ride blindly, never knowing which twists and turns are headed my way and how my soul will tolerate the movement, the shifts, the unexpected freefalls.
But Sunday came, the youth speaker said her words, and then you stood up to speak. My daughter and I instantly looked at each other because lately there hasn’t been time for the intermediate hymn, our favorite part of sacrament meeting, so we were rolling our eyes at our lack of opportunity to sing off key and stretch our arms and legs a little bit. We were too quick to jump to conclusions, and in the aftermath, I apologize. Bishop, as you started to speak, I felt my eyes open a little wider. My heart skipped a beat. My husband was out of town, and I immediately texted him and said, “Tune into the online link for sacrament meeting, the Bishop is addressing last week’s sacrament meeting debacle.”
I wish I had taken notes. I don’t have your exact words moving through the rest of my thoughts, but I have the impressions left on my heart and that is what I wanted to write about to you today.
In fact, the day after you spoke, I sent you a little note saying basically that I was grateful for your words and appreciated you stepping up to right some wrong words.
But Bishop, your words have settled into my bones, and I wanted to share that impact with you.
When you first started to speak, you referenced a talk by Elder Rasband, “Words Matter.” As you started to speak you mentioned several people had reached out to you after church last week. That was the first win of the day because, for once, the “people reached out” category wasn’t me. You spoke about how indeed, words matter, and hurtful words were said from the pulpit last week. You had my attention. I am famous in my house for drafting and sending “strongly worded emails.” But for this instance, I just didn’t have it in me. Plus, what could a bishop do in the aftermath of a speaker from another ward? The experience collectively was both a reminder to me to always speak up, and that I am not alone in my beliefs. There are other allies around me, even if I might not know which pew they sit in. It was extremely validating, but more than validating, it was comforting. I felt a sense of community I don’t usually feel when I attend church.
You proceeded to talk about the two categories of offensive comments made by last week’s speaker, one being the words said about the value (or rather, devaluing) of women and two being the words about the LGBTQ+ community.
You apologized.
You apologized for not realizing in the moment, as the presiding authority of the meeting, the hurt being spewed and how you wish you had realized in the moment that you could have stood up afterwards, and if nothing else, testified of God’s love for everyone and at least brought back the Spirit that quickly left when this speaker started talking. You apologized for not doing something to bring back the Spirit to close out the meeting.
Then you proceeded to preach doctrine. The doctrine of Christ. The doctrine of love for everyone. The value of everyone being a child of God and the purpose of all God’s children to come to earth, get a body, contribute to the world, serve and be served, love and be loved.
Then you apologized for the many hurt feelings felt across the congregation.
I have been a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for thirty-eight years and never once have I seen someone take responsibility at the pulpit in the way that you did.
I cannot convey what that did for my testimony and for the testimony of my family, especially my daughter, who walked out with me last week. All afternoon, and the following day I found myself anxious to think and ponder about gospel things. I felt the Spirit. I felt purpose in my worship. I felt like I was able to acknowledge that what was being said from the pulpit was good for my soul. I was listening to a podcast the other week and the speaker mentioned that so often we are clear on what we want our spirituality and worship to exclude, but it is harder to determine what we want our spirituality to include. That notion has been percolating in my mind for weeks and you taught me something today that my heart always knew but that my mind had never articulated. You taught me that a non-negotiable element of my own spiritual experience is accountability. In YW I was taught about the concept of “choice and accountability” and I bought into it wholeheartedly. I learned and embraced that I have agency to choose, and that gift is precious. I know that I am accountable for my actions and the choices I make. I have been taught since primary that while I can’t be responsible for the consequences of actions, I can be accountable for them. What I realized is that over the decades, so much of my spiritual encounters have been focused on my own accountability, for which I take full responsibility. I embrace the gift that is our agency and the accompanying responsibility that is our commandment around accountability. However, what has been lacking in my spiritual experience is the accountability from my spiritual leaders. Understanding that I have the authority to know what I need and don’t need, Bishop, you taught me that I need accountability to flow both ways in my spiritual experience. I have not been able to articulate that previously and you taught me this important principle.
I have been taught in Matthew not to hide my light under a bushel. Years of leaders, teachers, and missionaries encouraging me as a disciple to let my light shine and share my testimony with others. Regularly from the pulpit I am encouraged and even occasionally admonished to share some of my private thoughts related to the Savior very publicly. But in my experience as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, when public offenses have occurred, IF there is an apology, it is often encouraged to be handled privately.
I think there is value in not hiding our accountability under a bushel either. If agency empowers us to choose, accountability ensures we answer for those choices, and part of that is transparency. There are a lot of conversations about transparency and accountability around issues related to the Church and I guess I am getting old, because I assume on a macro level that will likely never happen in my lifetime. But Bishop, you restored some of my faith with your local apology and instruction.
And in the same way there are some who have been discouraged by various aspects of church lately, I felt obligated to share there were many of us who were encouraged by your actions. Some of us who will re-up our willingness to hang around, to serve, to grow, and to seek our Savior because you addressed the situation head on.
I am grateful for your leadership in this matter, your delicacy with the relationships you have stewardship over, and the doctrine you were able to correct as part of your God given authority. In a way, it feels absurd the amount of attention I have given this 20 minute of my life. But it has also felt telling. I will always remember this sacrament meeting and lessons I learned about what leaders can do to acknowledge spiritual wrongs, about how empowering and spiritually motivating accountability from others can be when sincerely offered. During that sacrament meeting, you spoke words that helped heal my soul, and for that I am truly grateful.
In solidarity through Christ,
Sis. Clemmer
P.S.- Please consider telling your other friends with authority to follow your lead. Encourage them to be accountable when they or others they are presiding over misstep (or are flagrantly offensive). Those leaders will be amazed at the support from often alienated congregants will spill over into everything else those members are willing to do to support the work of the Lord, including sustaining their own individual testimonies.
Addendum: This was written the week after my previous post was shared. Two weeks later the Bishop was released. For clarification, the change had been in the works for several weeks as his five-year stint was coming to a close. I am not implying his release was because of the talk. I am simply sharing that I am disappointed I won’t get to hear more from an ally.
