Exponent II's Blog, page 71

The Provo Temple: An Architectural Eulogy

Guest post by Taylor Olson

During my time at BYU, the Provo Temple baptistry was perhaps the truest test of my faith. It was rare to see a single unclaimed spot in the waiting room pews. I diligently experimented, attending at different times to see if I could develop a clear strategy to avoid the extraordinarily long wait, but I would have a successful mid-day visit one Thursday and be thwarted the next by a random young women’s group. (How could they all be attending in the middle of the day? Don’t they have school?) The achiever in me wanted to be directly rewarded for my effort.

With my experience, I should’ve known better than to go on a Saturday, but on one afternoon in 2010, I sat waiting for over two hours only to be startled out of a trance by a temple worker walking down the pews, repeatedly whisper-calling my name. I worriedly climbed over the many white-jumpsuit-clad girls seated between the aisle and me. The worker let me know that a family member was at the front desk looking for me. Don’t worry, nobody was hurt. I had just been in there so long waiting to do baptisms that it was now well past 5:00 p.m. My parents were in town for dinner and had somehow managed to track me down in the temple basement well before phone-location tracking.

Since that time, thankfully, my temple visits have been shorter, and I honestly haven’t thought about the Provo Temple much. My husband and I live in Salt Lake and somehow the divide between Salt Lake County and Utah County feels increasingly large as we get busier with work, parenthood and the never-ending project of our own home, designed and built in 1955 by local architect and preservationist Burtch Beall Jr. as his family home.

As an interior designer, my own work is inspired by a love for historic architecture, which I credit to my parents who have traveled around the world visiting historic homes since I was a small child. After college, I worked as a volunteer docent at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Hollyhock House in Los Angeles. (Perhaps an unsurprising hobby for someone taking the time to write a blog post like this.) Since we purchased our home, it has been listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and much of my interior design work has been focused on architecturally unique homes, updating them while honoring their initial designs and preserving significant historic features.

So, as you’d guess, when I first heard about the plans to redesign the Provo Temple, I was one of the many disappointed people. Petitions were signed, articles were shared, and I voiced my thoughts to friends and family. I held onto hope that the plans would change, but the temple officially closes today and the reconstruction is set to begin.

A Sacred Machine?

The Provo Temple, dedicated in 1972, was built by Emil B. Fetzer, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ head architect at the time, and was almost identical to the original design of the Ogden Temple. Fetzer died in November 2009, and by February 2010, the Church had already announced the redesign of the Ogden Temple. The Provo temple redesign was announced in 2021. We have now lost both temples, though they were both innovative, significant buildings for our tradition.

In 2010, around the time I was sitting in the basement of the Provo baptistry, Steve Cornell and Kirk Huffaker (who coincidentally also wrote the history of my home), penned an article about the potential travesty of losing the unique architectural history of the Ogden Temple, the same sort of travesty we now face again with the Provo Temple. In their study of the architectural and historical significance of these temples they identified that Ogden and Provo were the first temples streamlined for ordinance work. They initiated the pattern of multiple ordinance rooms that all lead to one celestial room in the center, replacing the room-by-room progression seen in earlier temples such as the Salt Lake Temple. As the executive director of Preservation Utah remarked in response to news of the Provo Temple redesign in 2021, “The Provo Temple created a prototype for all temples that came after it.” Cornell and Huffaker wrote a memorable description of this change, saying that the design was incredibly innovative, marking the transition from “sacred abode to sacred machine. ”

The design of these two temples is a perfect physical representation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ emerging goals for temples in the modern era. As the Church grew in the late 20th century, temple ritual and worship evolved to suit a global population and keep up with the proliferation of names for proxy temple work. Modernist design was an ideal vehicle for pursuing these changes because of its focus on functionality (“form follows function”) and cost (affordable materials allowing for mass production). This prioritization of function and affordability is present in both Modernism and in Mormonism, at least as seen with our most common LDS architecture, the ward building. Temples have long since abandoned modernism in their design, but the modern ethos of temple work remains. The Provo Temple is a marriage of the Church’s modern aims with a design that intrinsically embodies those aims. I suppose that marriage wasn’t for time and all eternity, though.

Cornell and Huffaker observed that the shape of the Ogden and Provo Temples unintentionally evoke the image of a modern rocket propelling into space, while also portraying the symbol that was actually intended of God’s cloud and pillar of fire to protect and guide Israel. Both the images capture important themes of temple worship, which include a significant focus on the vast expanse of creation and the covenantal care of the God of Israel. The design, like the temple instruction and covenants, provokes reflection on both the universal and the particular, the ancient and the modern.

The design is highly functional and symbolically striking, and both these features clarify the nature of temple worship and emphasize the urgent performance of temple ordinances. Though I didn’t experience efficiency like that of a modern factory while waiting in the baptistry, and while Cornell and Huffaker’s sacred machine image is perhaps more provocative than accurate, the modernist symbolic design of the Provo Temple does still ensure the swift completion of vital ordinances. There is reason to bristle at a mass-production approach to religious practice, but the audacity and scale of the Latter-day Saint temple project requires an efficient design, which is a testament to the importance of the work being done within.

Architecture: A Living Record

If you have followed the conversation around the Provo Temple, you have likely heard people call the temple “ugly” or an “eye-sore.” This criticism isn’t new and has been present since plans were first revealed. Some of the derogatory nicknames used over the years were identified on a Mormon Land podcast, “the Lord’s Thumbtack, the Mothership, the Celestial Cupcake, Carrot Top, the Carousel, and Marshmallow Matey.” But architectural significance and preservation are not primarily concerned with trends or ever-evolving preferences. It is a matter of preserving architectural styles and history, not merely as things to remember in our minds and hearts, but also for the experience of them. Many of our church-funded buildings are architecturally notable and influential, and as church members, that is something we should appreciate and proudly strive to preserve.

Our religion has a relatively short history, but it is still rich and important enough that the Church creates storage vaults that can withstand nuclear blasts, maintains historical museums and sites around the world, and spends decades compiling histories. Our distinctive text, The Book of Mormon, is itself a witness of how important a historical record is to the broader mission of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As a church, we certainly have some sense of the specific importance of architecture as history. Several massive projects to preserve pioneer-era temples are underway or completed, but we do not have the same care for the modernist Provo and Ogden temples, both now to be supplanted by classically styled structures. The Church Newsroom states that the Provo Temple redesign will meet modern seismic codes, reconfigure layouts, and increase energy efficiency. These are important parts of adapting a historic structure, but are all possible to achieve without losing sight of the original design. The fact that something wasn’t built by pioneers doesn’t mean it isn’t worth preserving. 20th century history is also vital to preserve, especially as the younger population of the church has increasingly less awareness of those decades that seem ordinary to my grandparents’ generation. We are dismissing our history so quickly that this important example of innovation and modernity has been erased within a single lifespan.

One of the most simple and direct ways church members engage history is through their own personal family history work. Temples are centers where we turn to our ancestors and unite in the joy of salvation together. Intergenerational connections are vital to our faith. Engaging the past can sometimes be uncomfortable because of significant cultural differences across generations, but what better way to appreciate those who came before us than to perform important saving ordinances for historical people in a building of historical significance? We shouldn’t ignore the history of the very buildings where we perform that important work.

Architecture is a unique form of art that cannot be fully appreciated through photographs, and certainly not through written explanation. It is intended to be used and experienced and is naturally engaged as we go about our normal activities. Because of this familiarity and utility, buildings are uniquely positioned to help us experience history. Someone who knows nothing about or isn’t necessarily seeking out history can literally enter it. History matters to our church. Why then are we destroying important architectural history that can only be appreciated through its continuing existence?

I moved out of Provo not long after that Saturday afternoon visit to the baptistry and I must confess that I never made it back to the Provo Temple since my time at BYU. I was endowed many years later while living in Los Angeles and never managed to make the time to go to Provo for a session since moving back to Utah. Like so many others, I will never be able to fully experience Fetzer’s pioneering design. Though my personal connection to the Provo temple is minor compared to those who may have been sealed in it or have grown up in the neighborhoods nearby, I still mourn the loss of this significant building. The distinctive design has led to the proliferation of temples, making temple attendance accessible to countless people around the world, which deeply matters to me and my personal faith. Just as I came to regret attending the Provo baptistry on a Saturday afternoon, I fear we will come to regret our rejection of this building’s importance as a living record of our church history.

Taylor acquired an ever-growing collection of books through marriage that inspired her to learn, but challenges her space planning as an interior designer. She loves cooking, running, and music.

Issues I have with this billboard

I was driving down the highway when my daughter pointed out this billboard and asked me what it meant:

I know abortion is sensitive. I don’t want to get in a fight about it. I actually don’t want to talk about it, per se. I just want to talk about the issues I have with this particular billboard.

So, first, let’s talk about the catchphrase “Real men love babies” … At first glance: great! It feels like they’re trying to appeal to a feminist agenda to say that real men don’t have to be into just “tough” stuff (e.g., toxic masculinity), but can be real men by being loving to babies. This is a super important sentiment as it allows both men and women important gender equality and it’s progress. Great idea!

HOWEVER

When they put that catch phrase “Real men love babies” it into the context of trying to convince men to not allow their sexual partners to get an abortion, then that’s a different situation. The billboard may as well have said, “Real men carelessly impregnate women who don’t want to get pregnant and then force them to carry the baby.” Huh, that seems right back at toxic masculinity. 

So, the billboard, which seemed to be against toxic masculinity, was actually just promoting toxic masculinity in disguise. 

That’s disgusting.

And now, to answer my daughter’s question of what that billboard means: toxic masculinity infiltrates every part of our lives – including the street signs we pass on a daily basis. That, I’m sorry to say, is what that billboard is about.

Guest Post: The Paradox of My Liberation

by Lacey Parr

I did what was expected as a young Mormon wife. I graduated BYU with not just a degree but a temple marriage and a pregnancy. But as the choice was deliberate, I owned it. The prevailing view at the time seemed to be that young motherhood was restrictive; it would tie me down. But it was motherhood that liberated me. While finances were meager at first, I had the privilege (and the income from a supportive partner) to stay home. I found purpose in caring for this new human, our first baby. I read all the books I could on breastfeeding and parenting. I devoted myself to my baby. My heart had grown. He went on my back (and my husband’s) into the Wasatch Mountains many times. We walked miles together and found new paths as we created our family culture. Our baby did not tie me down; he gave me even more reason to explore, learn and grow.

When learning about natural birth during my second pregnancy, my rebellious spirit was kindled. An alternative path unfolded before me. I felt liberated simply preparing for natural birth. And when I birthed that 8-pound baby on my hands and knees, I had birthed my way. My heart and mind expanded again. I did not have to live in the expected way. With a baby at my breast and a toddler on my back, we trekked into another new path. Choosing them over a career gave me—and them-–freedom. Freedom to play by the river on a Tuesday morning. Freedom to run wild in a mountain meadow whenever we took a notion. We strolled in museums and enjoyed playdates but our joy was found in the snowflakes, the lines in the mountain stone and the ducks on the creek.

When my third child was born, a daughter, I started caring even less about what others thought. I birthed her at home like a queen surrounded by loving attendants. I breastfed her openly everywhere we went. Motherhood and breastfeeding was supposed to be restrictive and keep me home in the kitchen. And due to practicality, it often did. And there were many relationship-building fights and discussions about sharing the weight of house and care work. But I found avenues that brought me and our family freedom. We sought time in nature over everything else.

An unconventional motherhood led to an unconventional toddlerhood which led to a natural choice–homeschooling. I liberated myself and my children from traditional schooling, a boring life of desks and lines and uninteresting text-based lessons. We found freedom in outdoor lessons, mud pies, climbing trees and beach days. A village of loving support was built around us that brought us more joy and peace than we knew we needed. What they needed and wanted to know, we learned together. Tuesday mornings were spent following their lead on trails and creek beds. Afternoons were spent at libraries, museums and aquariums. I learned to be their guide, mentor and fellow learner as they discovered the world.

Choosing them was supposed to restrict my freedom but it broadened it. They liberated me. Homeschooling was supposed to shelter them, but it liberated us. Motherhood was my liberation.

By 2021, alternative choices had become my normal. A deliberate life is what I seek and attempt daily. And so perhaps I should not have been surprised that another paradox presented itself: leaving Church and finding God.

Like many members of the faith, I had issues and questions throughout my life that were unanswerable within the faith. What was the real purpose of polygamy? Why the silence about Heavenly Mother? Why were Blacks prevented from attending the temple or receiving the priesthood for so long? Why are there so few named women in the scriptures? These questions and more were gently placed on a shelf and over time the shelf bulged and sagged as new weight was added. Why don’t I feel any connection to the temple ceremonies? Why can’t gay couples be sealed? Why are there so few female leaders speaking in Conference? What is so wrong about women wanting the priesthood? When I was faced with more context in the Church’s history and truth claims, when I forced myself to truly look at its past and current gender and racial inequities, my shelf tumbled. The day it tumbled to the floor was a bright summer day when I could have been happily weeding my garden. Instead I was lost in a spiral of betrayal and grief.

In the months and years that followed I prayed and studied and sought the Divine. I read the counter-arguments, I spoke to faithful leaders and prayed some more. Like many times in my life when I have sought divine help, the heavens were silent besides an enveloping love and warmth. My answer was the same I’ve always gotten: I love you. You are good. Make the choice that feels right to you. Your choice is the right choice because I trust you.

With gratitude for the loving, beautiful and faithful way in which I was raised, I consciously chose to step away from church and its doctrines.

Leaving doctrine and church programs behind allowed a bigger, more loving Gospel to expand before me.
Awe and wonder replace the smallness of certainty.
My sacrament is in nourishing food made with my children.
My worship is in a cold water lake.
My study is found in the wisdom of people of many faiths, not bound in leather.
My service is no longer solely inside a building.
My contemplation is not on a white couch while wearing soft slippers but in a snowy forest on skis.

Following my inner knowing led me to choose intentional birthing, parenting and education. I’ve learned to trust my inner self, my integrity. When that same inner knowing led me away from Church, I could trust her, because I trust myself. I don’t attend the temple anymore but I do attend to the moon and She attends to me. And that is enough for now.

Choosing motherhood did not confine me, it brought me freedom.
Homeschooling did not narrow my world, it broadened it.
Leaving church did not mean leaving God, it meant finding God.

Lacey Parr is a winter lover, tree hugger and cold water mermaid who is raising four children with her husband in northern Minnesota.

Grandchild of the Nakba

This piece was commissioned as part of the In Our Own Words series, which seeks to share the voices and experiences of marginalized individuals. You can find all of the pieces in this series here.

Don’t worry, you will survive.

Wait a few more days,

Walk a few more miles,

Endure a few more bombs,

                                        snipers,

                                                       infections,

                                                                     amputations,

                                                                                   nights in a tent,

                                                                                                  storms,

                                                                                                                injuries,

                                                                                                                          indignities—

You will survive, if only you can wait

Until we’ve settled the controversy

Until we’ve talked it through

Until we’re comfortable with ourselves, in our SUVs and beach houses,

With what we’ve done and what we still mean to do.

If only you agree to hush, to wait, to die—

We’ll say out loud how much we care (someday)

We’ll take in your orphans (don’t worry, we’ll keep the hardest truths from them)

“I’m proud of my heritage,” their children’s children will say (without having to grow up there, among the violence—don’t worry!)

We’ll listen to their stories, someday, and center them, and care.

Please, don’t worry. In some small way,

You will survive.

Photo of the city the author’s grandfather grew up in https://picryl.com/amp/media/along-the-mediterranean-coast-southward-akka-acre-carmel-range-etc-judges-131

J.’s grandfather was taken prisoner during the Nakba in 1948. Then twenty years old, he escaped on foot and walked until he reached Lebanon, where he rebuilt a life for himself, eventually emigrating to the United States. J. was raised Mormon and is a longtime reader of and first-time contributor to Exponent II.

Differentiation as a Practice and Tool (Mixed-faith Marriage Series)

This is part of a series of guest posts on the topic of mixed faith marriages (MFM) from a variety of mental health professionals, coaches, podcasters, counselors and regular readers offering advice from their own experiences. Keep your eyes on the blog over the next few weeks for more great content, and feel free to submit your own essay to this series by emailing exponentabby@gmail.com. (Thanks! -Abby Maxwell Hansen)

Guest Post: Megan Story Chavez is a licensed marriage and family therapist at https://progressivepathstherapy.com/ and a professor of Marriage and Family therapy at Utah Valley University https://www.uvu.edu/mft/. She enjoys working as a therapist with couples who have a significant difference in their relationships such as mixed-faith, interracial, or mixed-orientation partnerships, and emerging adult individuals. Megan’s research focuses on the biopsychosocial-spiritual framework, currently, the studies she is working on center on the interconnection between spiritual transitions and mental health. She loves teaching graduate students, especially supervising student therapists. Megan enjoys attending concerts with her partner and playing with her two kids. 

My Experiences

As someone who group up in Utah Valley, I became very used to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints being mainstream. Most of the friends I had growing up attended church with their families each week. We would often talk about achievement days, young women, and family home evening without considering that there may be members of our friend group that did not have context for what we were discussing. Many of my friends were also LDS. It wasn’t until my freshman year of college that I began to interact with others who were not actively LDS, however even then being LDS was the majority.  This sameness in religion was my normal. With that sameness, the challenge of navigating relationships, especially close relationships with people who believed differently religiously was not something I knew how to do. 

As I stepped away and retired from the church, my parents, ½ of my siblings, most of my best friends, many of my students, and a good portion of my clients were still actively members of a church that I no longer believed in. A church I felt had harmed me and others; the same church that offered them peace and happiness. How do we develop and have strong relationships when we believe so differently? When they mentioned something about the peace they felt in the temple, I wasn’t sure what to do with the gut punch I felt. They also experienced a gut punch when I talk about feeling grief over my temple marriage. None of us have a map for how to do this, especially when we have been so used to the sameness in religious practice. None of us knew how to manage our feelings, conversations, and changes around this. 

While I was personally trying to figure out how to manage this, I also saw this in my clinical practice. My clients shared that they also struggled to relate to people that they love who had fundamentally differing beliefs. Beliefs that were deeply integrated into the identities of people on both sides of the experience. Clients described conversations where neither party wanted to be unkind or disrespectful, but both were unsure about how to do that when their own feelings about the topics were so strong and intense. As a researcher I tried to go to both social media and the research literature for support. I found many therapists talking about it, many of whom had great tools, but not many who had research literature to support their approaches. During my clinical training at BYU in 2014 faith transitions and mixed-faith marriages were not topics discussed regarding couple and family therapy. When I moved back to Utah in 2019, my case load was full of people in these experiences. So, without research to rely on, I did the best I could and when I got an academic position in 2020 at UVU, I knew that I would focus on how to support people in these experiences, and I have done just that. 

Findings

In the research I have been doing in this area a clear concept has emerged that supports individuals and couples navigating mixed-faith relationships. That is the concept of differentiation. This is the therapy language for the concept of being able to recognize that we need others and connection is critically important while also knowing we can do that without losing ourselves for the relationships in our lives. We can have different beliefs from one another while still being connected. Meaning someone that is highly differentiated can know their relationship with people who believe differently can be critically important while also staying calm and clearheaded enough face the conflict that comes with this. Mixed-faith couples who described feeling resilient in their relationships with one another also described a process of being able to practice and increase their levels of differentiation. 

This may look like being able to sit and listen to your partner describe the beautiful experience they had at church and validate the experience while also holding the discomfort that brings to you. It may look like your parent or partner recognizing that your desire to drink alcohol or coffee is related to your values and doesn’t speak to you being a bad person or unworthy person. They may show this by being able to support you in this by making you a morning coffee or even having coffee in the home when you come to visit, even though they don’t drink it. It is about finding a way to be an individual who knows how to connect with people who are different while still owning who they are and their identity outside of the relationship. One of my favorite therapist theorists, David Schnarch stated, “Giving up your individuality to be together is as defeating in the long run as giving up your relationship to maintain your individuality. Either way, you end up being less of a person with less of a relationship,” (2009, p. 55). People in relationships that are able to be differentiated do not give up individuality or the relationship but find a way to hold both. 

Practicing Findings

The question I often get is how do we become differentiated? There are a few things that I believe help. One strategy that is increasing our own emotional regulation strategies. That way when our partner/s, family members, or friends bring up topics or ideas that are challenging for us, we have the tools to process and soothe ourselves. Four elements of emotional regulation according to Chen and Giblin (2018) are:

Emotional Acceptance – Accepting our emotions and the emotions of others without judgment. Mindfulness – Building awareness of experiences, thoughts, and emotions.Flexible Reactions – Practicing flexibility in our reactions and responding to our own emotions in accordance with our own values. Interpersonal Skills – Recognizing and expressing emotions, thoughts, and ideas and asking for support when needed. 

Learning how to increase emotional acceptance, mindfulness, have flexible reactions, and increasing interpersonal skills are each process that take time. One way of engaging these tools in conversations within mixed faith relationships is to recognize our feelings when they arise and let ourselves sit with the sensations that come with those feelings and checking in with what information those emotions are offering to us about our values. We can then process that through conversation, movement, art, etc. When we can personally do that, it gives us more space to hold both our own feelings and give space to others. As both people practice emotional regulation tools, the conversations can become responsive and engaging rather than reactive and activating. 

Another strategy that supports differentiation is recognition of our personal values. Values are different than goals but rather are directions that we move towards without an endpoint. Common values are kindness, integrity, honesty, authenticity, etc. Values support us in finding ways of living and doing things in life as well as support us in living our lives with meaning and purpose. I’ve found that as people when we know what our values are, it better helps us accept differing values in other. When we are confident in ways of living that give us meaning, discussion of values for others are less challenging or confronting to our own identities. Then within our conversations we can become curious about other people’s values and recognize the differences without a threat to ourselves. This supports the idea that love doesn’t mean sameness but that differences can provide us opportunities to be curious, connect, and get to know each other better. 

References

Chen, M. & Giblin, N.J. (2018). Individual Counseling and Therapy

Schnarch, D. (2009). Passionate marriage: Keeping love and intimacy alive in committed relationships. W.W. Norton & Company. 

___________________

This post is part of a series about navigating Mixed Faith Marriages. Find more from this series here.

Patriarchy in a Mixed Faith Marriage

This is part of a series of guest posts on the topic of mixed faith marriages (MFM) from a variety of mental health professionals, coaches, podcasters, counselors and regular readers offering advice from their own experiences. Keep your eyes on the blog over the next few weeks for more great content, and feel free to submit your own essay to this series by emailing exponentabby@gmail.com. (Thanks! -Abby Maxwell Hansen)

Guest post: Brooke Booth is a certified life coach through the Life Coach School and a JD. She also has an advanced certificate in feminist coaching.

As an expert in LDS/Mormon mixed faith marriages and faith transitions, Brooke has established a busy coaching practice serving those populations.

Brooke’s knowledge and skills have been cultivated in her own mixed faith marriage and mixed faith extended family as well as her extensive professional work with clients.

She is the host of the Mormon Mixed Faith Marriage Podcast, a platform dedicated to helping others find hope and solutions for the issues in their mixed faith marriage.

Brooke works with her clients to help them become empowered in their marriages, develop skills necessary for a strong relationship and to find connection as they relate to their spouse in new ways. She also helps them process their faith transition, or their spouse’s faith transition and to navigate those changes with love.

Brooke has been an active member of the LDS church until her own faith transition (after 15 years of marriage), a stay at home mom, a complex business litigator and a certified life coach.

Her skills and experience are unique and effective in helping her clients navigate mixed faith marriages and faith transitions.

I remember listening to Gina Colvin years ago talk about her experience with patriarchy. She said, “Once you see it you cannot unsee it.”

I can certainly relate. 

I want to talk about some of the differences men in a mixed faith marriage experience as compared to women in a mixed faith marriage. 

I am careful to note that my conclusions here are based only on anecdotal evidence and personal experience. These are my musings about differences I see men and women face in a mixed faith marriage. These are not universal, absolute or complete. 

A note before we dive in. 

Just because there are differences does not mean it’s easier or harder for men versus women. Each individual’s path is their own and cannot be accurately compared to another. However, talking about some of the differences can be helpful to understand your own experience and it can also be a starting place for discussions between friends, between spouses or even just a way to take another look at your own relationship. 

Let’s get started. 

Finances 

In a patriarchal society, men make the financial decisions for a family or couple. Tithing decisions are certainly financial decisions. I typically see a few scenarios in a mixed faith couple. 

The man has the faith transition and is the sole breadwinner. In this situation the family stops paying tithing even if the wife would like to continue paying. 

The woman has the faith transition and contributes financially. The wife stops paying tithing on her income, the husband continues to pay on his income. 

The woman  has a faith transition and is a stay at home wife/mother. In this scenario, she may push for a 5%/5% split of the tithing funds or the husband continues to pay 10%. 

I have never seen a situation where a man remains active and they stop paying tithing altogether. Bottom line is that men tend to have more say in the tithing decision. 

Emotional Labor 

In a patriarchal society women tend to carry the emotional labor load in the family or couple. Emotional labor is the unseen and often unappreciated labor that goes on behind the scenes. It’s the work necessary for a smooth running family and household. It may look like reaching out to extended family, checking on kids homework, meeting social needs, asking about work projects, offering support and encouragement in callings and tasks and on and on. A mixed faith marriage can increase the amount of emotional labor needed in a family or couple. Think of emotional labor around managing children when one spouse attends church and the other stays home, the emotional labor involved when changing things like family prayer/scripture study/FHE or the emotional labor in managing relationships with in-laws after a faith transition. Regardless of who has the faith transition, this labor is often disproportionately carried by the woman in the relationship. 

Community 

In a patriarchal society men often work outside the home and women work inside the home. When there is a faith transition and mixed faith marriage men are often not as impacted socially. Men tend to maintain friendships and interaction with colleagues at work. Women on the other hand may be more socially isolated if they leave the church community. Women’s opportunities for friendship and social interaction may have been limited or primarily focused on church gathering and activities. If the woman has a faith transition she may have a disproportionate decrease in her social interactions. 

Logic and Emotion

In a patriarchal society men are seen as logical and rational and women are seen as emotional. When a man leaves the church it may be attributed to his scientific training, his education or his hours of study (even if that is from unapproved sources, it is still studious). A woman’s reasons for leaving may be attributed to her being easily influenced or persuaded. Her decision may be seen as emotional, coming out of nowhere, or silly. 

Individual Value

In a patriarchal society men’s value comes from providing financially and women’s value comes from their motherhood and relational skills. Accordingly, when there is a mixed faith marriage, if the man is still providing financially, he is still valuable and doing what is important for the family. In a mixed faith marriage, if the woman fails to mother as she should (i.e. nurture her children in the gospel) she is not as valuable in the relationship or family as before. Further her relational skills may be perceived as diminished when she is not performing the roles expected of her as a mother in the church or as the supportive wife to her husband as he fulfills his calling. The woman’s personal value is tied closely to her performance as a mother and wife which is synonymous with church activity, teaching the gospel to her children, and her faith. When these things are gone, her value is perceived as diminished. 

In short, a mixed faith marriage has an impact on both the husband and wife. Those impacts may not be identical. Looking at the differences men and women face can shine a light on areas that cause pain and frustration but can be hard to articulate. 

___________________

This post is part of a series about navigating Mixed Faith Marriages. Find more from this series here.

How Being An Only Child and Latter-day Saint Has Shaped Who I Am Today

Kirsten Harris is currently a college student at Boise State University. She was born and raised in eastern Idaho, grew up as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and loves to travel!

Having been an only child my entire life, I have become accustomed to many stereotypes. Additionally, being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints also comes with many stereotypes. Being both creates quite an interesting story. 

I know some of you are thinking to yourself, how is she an only child? Don’t members of that church have lots of children? Yes, we do, thanks for the stereotype, but let me open your eyes a bit by sharing my experiences.

I’ll start by sharing some of the stereotypes an only child faces. There are three things people assume when you tell them you’re an only child: You’re spoiled, lonely, and wish you had siblings. People have assumed that only children are spoiled for dozens of years. In fact, people believe it so much even the media entertains it. For example, Rory Gilmore from Gilmore Girls, Manny from Modern Family, Veruca from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – the list goes on. All of these characters are spoiled, rich, only children who get what they want when they want it.

First of all, not all of us only children are rich. Don’t get me wrong, these movies and TV shows are entertaining, but they allow society to assume that all only children are spoiled snobs incapable of getting along with others. There were countless times as a kid when I was asked if I was spoiled – this was especially true when first meeting people. I remember meeting a girl at the park who asked me how many siblings I had. When I told her I was an only child, she asked, “Oh, so are you spoiled then?” I said no. She said, “Well, do you get whatever you want since your parents don’t have to worry about any other children?” Again, I said no. Here’s the thing, you can tell people you’re not spoiled but they won’t believe you.

I have also been asked many times if I ever get lonely because I don’t have any siblings to hang out with. Honestly, I think it’s a little weird to ask someone if they get lonely. I can’t think of a situation in which that question is appropriate. I was blessed enough to never feel lonely. I remember as a kid I would play with my Barbies and Shopkins for hours on end without anyone but myself. And if I ever got bored, I would move on to a new activity. I have always found it interesting how some people just can’t entertain themselves. I’m basically a master at it, and if you’ve ever been around someone who can’t do anything without someone there, you know that it can be exhausting and annoying. Plus, the absence of siblings does not automatically make you lonely – I have my friends, parents, and cousins that I can hang out with all the time. I know that I am especially blessed to not feel lonely in my life, because of the great friends and family I am surrounded by.

Wishing I had siblings was rarely a concern for me. I mean, sure, sometimes it would have been nice to have a built-in playmate, but I didn’t need one. And it wasn’t like I was socially inept. I had friends and 13 of my cousins lived 10 minutes away. Anything I could have done with siblings, I did with them. They just didn’t live with me. Without siblings, I learned how to create my own support system. This includes my parents, cousins, and many friends. I was able to choose good people in my life that gave me the support I needed. But I also learned how to be my own support system. It’s unrealistic to go through life relying solely on the support of others. Having learned this at a young age, I know I can rely on myself when making important decisions and support myself in doing so. I think this ties into independence as well. You’ve most likely heard only children are independent and from my experience, it’s very true. I don’t mind doing things on my own, and I greatly appreciate some alone time. I really learned a sense of personal ability and confidence that I believe can only be learned through doing things on your own. Don’t get me wrong: I love hanging out with my friends and family, but if our schedules don’t align, I know I can most likely do it on my own.

Being raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints means we have been taught our whole lives to multiply and replenish the Earth. This phrase comes from Genesis 1:28. This chapter talks about the Earth’s creation and when God created man. After creating Adam and Eve, God told them to “be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth…” Many general authorities have spoken on this topic. One talk I can think of was given by Elder Neil L. Anderson in the October 2011 conference. His talk entitled “Children,” states, “When to have a child and how many children to have are private decisions to be made between a husband and wife and the Lord.” I love this quote Elder Anderson gave. However, I don’t think this quote crosses very many minds when it comes to the topic of children. 

One of the main stereotypes about church members is how large the families are. There were people in my home ward with anywhere from five to eight kids. That’s a huge family. I think it’s easy to say that my family stuck out a bit in church. Especially because some families took up a whole bench and mine took three chairs. As I’ve gotten older, I believe we have taken the phrase multiply and replenish the earth and decided it only had one definition. I believe there are many ways to multiply and replenish the Earth. And having a ton of children is not the only way. If you asked me, I believe that my parents multiplied and replenished the Earth by having a kid. I think this phrase has to be defined by you and God. I believe it can mean many things to many people, and the best way to find out is to discover it for yourself.

Now that I am older, I have started to understand what my parents went through. It’s easy to be naive as a young child thinking that what people say is only hurtful to you, when in reality it was also hard on my parents to hear some of the things being said. I think they struggled way more than I did and ever will. I mean being told you’re spoiled can only do so much damage when the same person who said that to you was way more spoiled than you could ever be. But being told that you didn’t follow one of God’s commandments and are therefore a sinful person hurts in a way that can’t be healed as easily. I think the thing that bothers me the most when it comes to such harsh judgment and hurtful phrases as that, is the fact that the people who say those things have no clue what my parents went through. And never once has the person been sympathetic or asked about their story. They were always just so quick to judge.

Speaking of their story, it wasn’t by personal choice that my parents only had one child. They did desire to have more; however, my mother experienced infertility. They tried their best with the options they were given, but my young parents were too poor to try several rounds of IVF or even adopt. In the end, they could only have me. While this wasn’t a personal choice, it was God’s plan for them and us as a family. But this isn’t what goes through people’s minds when my parents say they only have one child. I think this kind of judgment will be lifelong for all of us.
These experiences have changed my definition and view of family. Family is not just a number of members but is instead the bond created between them. A family bond isn’t stronger just because there are more members. It truly depends on your willingness, the other members’ participation, and each other’s desire to have a strong relationship with your family. My parents and I are very close and I couldn’t be more grateful for our relationship.

Being an only child has blessed my life in many ways. I am so grateful for the people I am surrounded by and the way I was raised. Being an only child has taught me to be comfortable with myself, my standards, and the person I have become. My life is incredible and I wouldn’t have it any other way. If you’re a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints who has an only child, all I can say is that it won’t be easy, but it will be so worth it.

Primary Should Include Social Time

A sweet little boy in my 9 year-old son’s Sunday school class finds him before sacrament each Sunday to ask if they can sit together. They trade sitting with each other’s families most Sundays and spend sacrament quietly drawing together. The two boys don’t go to the same school, so they are “church” friends. This would have totally been off-limits when I was a kid because sacrament was not social time, but it is a lovely connection these two have each Sunday that helps them build their friendship, while encouraging each other to be reverent.

The local LDS congregation as a whole is a hodge-podge of people gathered from nearby towns. While some wards share a town/city/neighborhood identity, this ward (not long-ago branch) gathers from a broader geographic area. This means that many kids are like these little boys; they have church, school, family, and neighborhood friends. Sunday may be the one day they have to connect, so church friendships may take longer/be more challenging to build in primary.

And, just like their adult counterparts who seek each other out in the chapel aisles and church hallways, kids want to catch up, chat, and check in with each other on Sundays. With the tight Sunday schedules, building restrictions, and Sunday routines, we often discourage kids from dawdling, crowding hallways, or keeping their teachers waiting. We should rethink discouraging this social time for all ages, but especially primary-age children.

With the emphasis on learning reverence and respect for speakers and teachers, kids are also shushed and quieted down throughout Sunday services. After a long hour of sitting in practiced silence and practicing reverence, another hour of quiet reverence and patient listening is a great deal to ask of kids (and, frankly, adults). While learning gospel principles is certainly important, learning to live them through genuine friendships and social interactions is also important.

I recognize that not all primaries are the same and some may incorporate different social times or activities. If your primary is doing this, that’s awesome. I’d love for you to share some ideas, successes, and even challenges you’ve had to overcome in the comments. I also absolutely recognize that primary needs structure, discipline, and clear expectations. I’m not suggesting a free-for-all. Instead, here are some ideas to help incorporate social time into primary:

Start each class giving every child the chance to share something special about their weekSet aside time during general primary for “catching up” with your primary friends. If kids have this to look forward to and understand the routine, it can help them work on other behaviors in a positive way.Incorporate icebreakers and mini games into lessonsInclude a question of the week board and have kids answer it. Give them time to explore it.Play “get the wiggles out” games randomlyInvite kids to brainstorm or work in mini groups for lessonsSend kids on a scavenger hunt to find people with different experiences/hobbies/etc.

Sometimes the focus of primary can be so heavily on reverence, mastering song lyrics, and getting through lesson materials, we can forget about the essentials of building friendships, community, and connection. I’d love to see the LDS church come out with more materials to support leaders and teachers in incorporating more social time in primary.

How two LDS women helped launch a world-class children’s hospital penny by penny

On Monday, Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City opened a second location in Lehi, Utah. In celebration of the Grand Opening of the second Primary Children’s Hospital, the Salt Lake Tribune ran a story about the women who founded the hospital in 1922: Louie B. Felt, who served as General Primary President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) and her 1st Counselor, May Anderson. The article also includes a fun fact about a third woman from LDS history, the very entrepreneurial Frances Grant Bennett, whose clever idea raised $100,000 for the hospital in the 1940s.

How two LDS women helped launch a world-class children’s hospital penny by penny by Peggy Fletcher Stack | Salt Lake Tribune

Primary Children’s Hospital at its original location, as photographed in the 1930s.

Little Valentine’s Fun

My favorite corner of the internet is the NYTimes Tiny Love Stories: Modern Love in Miniature. In 100 words or fewer, individuals from all over the world detail their love: heartbreaks or romances, friendships or losses, growth and discovery. As a feminist, I especially love reading the personal stories of women – sometimes seeking inner peace, experiencing infertility, caring for family members, or balancing motherhood. In just 100 words, writers connect to readers and often wet stuff falls out of my eyes.

There’s a million different feelings and thoughts you may be having this Valentine’s Day. I’m not here to change them. But I would love to hear them! But, to make it more interesting, why not talk about these feelings in our own versions of Tiny Love Stories? Wouldn’t it be fun to hear the love stories of fellow Mormon feminists? When I took a stab at writing some I realized it really worked a creative side of my brain that was fun to use. Our stories may not be as polished as the ones that make it in the NYTimes. I don’t care if all our stories are specifically about feminism or Mormonism. Regardless, they’ll be our stories. And that’s worth hearing. 

I’ve written a few to get us started. Then in the comments below, I’d love to hear your stories. In 100 words or less, tell me about any relationship (romantic, familial, friendship, or even self-love). (And if you go over 100 words, no one’s counting! This is just for a fun Valentine’s activity to connect.) Don’t feel like writing one? Comment on other’s instead!

Here are my 3 tiny love stories about my relationships with each of my 3 daughters:

“Don’t break her, don’t break her, don’t break her.” The mantra in my mind when I held your 5 pound 14 ounce body. Twig legs. Scrawny arms. I worried you’d snap. 24 hours later, we talked without words. You told me God sent you to me and you were too strong to be broken so easily: You’re Ruby. Those once twig legs motor your freestyle. Those once scrawny arms base your handstands. Most importantly, your whole-hearted adventuring personality allows me to relax knowing you won’t ever let anyone break you.









Head scraped from the OBGYN’s attempt to break my water, and face red from the journey, you literally nuzzled your itty-bitty body onto my breast and figuratively nuzzled your itty-bitty heart into our family. Cute as you were, I couldn’t be happy. For a full year I felt a heavy fog weighing me down and wondered if this was what parenting was about. Thankfully, the postpartum depression subsided and 10 years later, I happily watch you explain to me the difference between “literally” and “figuratively” as learned in 4th grade.









At nearly 3, you’ve got your opinions. “I’m Izzy!” you scream at us when we use your given name. You demand we write “Izzy,” but scream when we start it with “I.” “J” is your favorite letter. We don’t make you choose. You become “Jzzy.” But at nearly 3, you’re one of the crew. “Juni, time to brush teeth!” I hear Dad call to you while the big kids have friends over. You’re chomping popcorn unaware you’re so much younger. “I can’t,” you call back. “I’m busy watching a movie.” And at nearly 3, you’re exactly the kid we love.

Now, I’m excited to hear yours!