Exponent II's Blog, page 74

Call for Art: Paying Homage to 50 Years of Mormon Art in Exponent II

2024 marks 50 years since Exponent II was established on the dual pillars of Mormonism and Feminism. We’ve come a long way since then, and our Spring 2024 issue of Exponent II is centered on celebrating this anniversary as well as looking forward.

The theme of this special issue is “Standing on the Shoulders of Giants.” We honor the sacrifices made to share our stories by standing on their shoulders. By collecting wisdom and sharing it freely, we gain a vantage point to see what is coming and where we have been. 

We invite all artists to create a piece of visual art (in any medium) on the theme of paying homage, or in homage to an artist or work of art published in our magazine’s 50-year history. Your artwork can replicate a specific artwork, reference specific elements or techniques used by the artist, or simply acknowledge the influence of a particular artist on your own work. Whether you were inspired by a particular artist’s style, technique, or message, or you simply want to honor the women who have paved the way for future generations, this is your chance to create a piece of visual art that celebrates the power of sisterhood and creativity. We welcome submissions in any medium, including but not limited to painting, drawing, photography, sculpture, and mixed media. In addition, we will accommodate video submissions on the blog, with stills published in the magazine. Submit your intent to contribute by Feb 15, and hi-res final photographed artwork and a brief artist statement by March 15 to exponentiiart@gmail.com. Please follow the submission guidelines.

We believe that homage is an important way for artists to connect with the art of the past and to pay respect to those who have paved the way for their own artistic endeavors. If this call speaks to you, please submit your artwork for consideration in our anniversary issue. We look forward to celebrating the sisters who have shared their visual voice, inspired us, and whose shoulders we stand on. Browse past archives of Exponent II here.

Singing Book of Mormon Stories? Or not?

I am a primary chorister in my ward, sharing the calling with my ward bestie. In order to get ideas on how to do the calling better,  I joined a group on social media composed of other primary choristers.  Having this calling means you have to be a stand-up comedienne, an artist, a master of ceremonies, a soloist – you have to be an entertainer and a performer as well as a teacher.  So it can be helpful to have a group of people doing the same calling to swap ideas for visual aids, games, or teaching approaches.

As with any online forum, the discussion boards are also haunted by ideological bias.  Most frequently this takes the form of whether games and play are appropriate when our calling is to teach the Gospel.  In my opinion play is how children learn and games are a necessary part of promoting engagement and happiness, allowing the Spirit to be present.  Sullen crankiness is a real Holy Ghost squasher in my opinion.  Others feel tomfoolery is unnecessary and distracts from the reverence that should be associated with the Gospel. To each their own. Every ward is different, with different children, so a one size fits all approach doesn’t really make sense in any case.

This year has spawned a new and very polarizing debate.  About two months ago the posts began, which invariably set off a firestorm and get the comments shut down.  The original post is always written someone who is not sure if we should teach the song “Book of Mormon Stories” and if so, whether the hand gestures we learned as children are appropriate. The asker always seems to have an uneasy feeling that the song and its attendant motions racist and would like advice. This invariably engenders an absolute explosion of opinions which range from “if you think it’s racist, then it’s probably racist” to “any accommodation of any kind is treasonous.”

Some Exponent II readers may not have been raised in the Church, or may not have been exposed to all the same approaches to this song, so I’ll provide a quick synopsis of song. It has a rhythmic repetitious bass beat from the piano that sounds somewhat like drumming, and the tune is in minor and is reminiscent of Native American music as portrayed in movies. The lyrics are as follows:Book of Mormon stories that my teacher tells to me (hold out hands like an open book)Are about the Lamanites in ancient history (Put two fingers behind your head like feathers, or pretend to use a bow and arrow)Long ago their fathers came from far across the sea (use hand to make wave motion)Given this land if they live righteously (put out right hand for given this land, then left for if they live. For the three syllables of righteously fold one arm away from your body, then the other, then nod firmly)Lamanites met others who were seeking liberty (Lamanites again can either be two fingers, or a bow and arrow)And the land soon welcomed all who wanted to be free (wave hello)Book of Mormon Stories say that we must brothers be (hold hands open like a book)Given this land if they live righteously (again fold arms and bow head to the syllables)

There are other verses to the song enumerating various prophets, but the first two verses are the most commonly sung.

So what is the debate about this song? I do not have permission from authors of comments to quote them directly. Instead I am going to paraphrase points and keep the specific source anonymous, even though there are tens of thousands of readers on the group so it is scarcely secret.  The gist of the ideological maelstrom is as follows:

Arguments against singing the song:-The song perpetuates a stereotype of Native Americans-It comes across as mocking-The second verse says “Lamanites met others who were seeking liberty” – i.e. white people.  The land “soon welcomed all who wanted to be free.”  This glosses over the reality of genocide, enslavement, racism and misogyny that actually characterized the contact between indigenous peoples and Europeans.-Native members have expressed that the tune comes across as a mockery.-Putting up two fingers as feathers to symbolize Native Americans is also mocking rather than celebrating.  A bow and arrow movement reinforces stereotypes about indigenous peoples.-Maybe every single kid in your primary is white, and will not personally be wounded or understand the stereotyping.  But you’re sending them into the world having been taught that making two feathers and whooping is okay, and inevitably at some point someone will point out that they are being racist.  You’re setting up kids for unnecessary pain, both those who feel marginalized, and those you are training to stereotype and marginalize others.-The song was written in the 1960s.  We have grown and learned as a people and should change what we do accordingly-Even though I am not hurt by this song, I trust other people when they say that they are.  So I am going to look for other options.-Current and historical Native American culture and traditions are far removed from our knowledge of Lamanites, so when we use this song and its hand motions we’re drawing connections between peoples that show no evidence of being related.-When you know better, you do better.  Once you learn that it hurts people, you stop doing it, even if you never meant to hurt anyone.Arguments for singing the song:-People are accountable for their own thoughts, don’t cancel older things that weren’t meant to be offensive to our woke generation-I know indigenous people who were not offended by this song-Instead of doing two fingers for Lamanites, do a bow and arrow -The tune does not need to be changed, people should just think of it as Native American drums, not some Hollywood stereotype-The tune is not a caricature, Native people dance with a beat.-No one is hurt by this song.  -There is no harm unless you’re looking to be offended, and in Zion we shouldn’t look for offense.-People against this are activists and that should be cut off because of group rules.-Not singing this song is just virtue signaling-Not singing this song is trying to cancel the past-No doctrinal reason not to use the song-Need to respect the culture, freedom of speech and rights of people who don’t think it is racist.-Critiquing it is stirring up offense and controversy and contention in Zion.-The drumbeat in the left hand is about the heartbeat-Changing the tune would be confusing to people who already learned it-The drum beat is catchy and fun, and shows love for Native American culture-The second verse is about Lamanites and Nephites, not Lamanites and Europeans.  It’s a reminder that we should all live in peace.-The song teaches about living righteously and being blessed, and this is a lesson we need to learn-The Prophet approved the songbook-The Book of Mormon was written for our day – we need kids to internalize the message “given this land if they live righteously”-I feel inspired/I feel strongly/I feel prompted to teach it.-The Church would not put it on the suggested songs for Come Follow Me if it were inappropriate or offensive-Changes like these are destroying ourselves like Coriantumr or Shiz-Jesus didn’t put up with Pharisees not allowing him to speak the truth, he called them dogs and vipers.  They were offended and he did it anyway.-If we try to appease liberals we might drive away conservatives into apostasy because they feel the church is too “woke”-Don’t overthink every little thing, because someone is going to be offended no  matter what.-I believe this song is kind-Not all stereotypes are unkind-People choose to be offended.  If they don’t want to be offended it’s up to them to change, not you.-I am sick of Critical Race Theory, Wokeness, White Karen Liberals, Canecling etc.-Fight racism by not trying to be a “white savior” and let Native people speak up for themselves if they’re bothered.-I live in an area with a large Native American population, and none of them have said it was offensive.-Feathers were a symbol of power, or gifts, or honor, so making feathers as a gesture is honoring and representing-If people think this song is racist then they’re saying that the whole Book of Mormon is racistArguments for a compromise approach:-“In some wards the original tune and actions are just fine, in other places will need revision.  The Spirit will guide us!”-Skip the first two verses, just teach the ones about specific prophets-Just teach “Books in the Book of Mormon” instead (others note that the tune for this is Ten Little Indians and is not an improvement)-Sing the song more legato without the drumbeat, and maybe change the key-Our job is to do our callings as the Holy Spirit directs, and I feel fine about it.  If you’re led to do something else, do something else.-Use ASL signs instead-Ask the people you think you’ll offend.  Maybe they won’t be offended, like you’re thinking.-“Think Celestial” (there was no further context to suggest what that might mean in relation to this song)

So where would you land on all this? My co-chorister and I agreed we will not be teaching this song. Instead we’re teaching Come to the Tree of Life and Nephi’s Courage as our January/February introduction to the Book of Mormon. How would you handle it? Has there been conflict within your ward? I live in a very liberal ward and so many of the arguments in favor of singing it came as a sort of shock. I have never encountered members of the Church who saw things this way, but I have a sense that at least in the United States the perspective that “nothing needs to change if it is approved by the First Presidency” is probably the more common view.

Shift (MFM series)

This is the fourth in 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: Emma Renshaw is a mom of four and partner. She is an agricultural nonprofit director and lover of fields, woods, and everything that grows within.

Your faith shifted, and our world shattered. It happened three years ago, sleeting rain pelting our winter gear. We needed to turn home but continued to walk, shivering and drenched, desperately needing the silence the woods provided to let the raw emotions process before returning to our busy home.

As your concerns tumbled out that night, I quickly recognized this wasn’t just a few doubts to wrestle back into the shadowed corners of the mind. I watched your stalwart, orthodox faith shatter as you spoke the three simple words of “I don’t believe.” As you lay bare your closely guarded anguish and unbelief, fear washed over me, and I silently asked myself, is this the end of us?

Upon returning home from our walk, I headed directly to the resource I was always told to reference. I went on the church website and typed in “mixed faith marriage.” The results returned one two-paragraph article from a dated BYU magazine. I frantically searched for “faith crisis” and “faith transition,” anything that would lend a church-supported framework of how we were to move forward. Defeated, I understand the church would not lend organizational support to a mixed-faith couple like us. This would be a journey we would walk on our own.

There were so many emotions during the initial phase, an uncertainty we had never felt during the 18 years of our temple marriage. We had done everything right; the promised blessing that our righteous endeavors would ensure strong faith broke. It felt as though God walked away from the covenant. That first rainy night, we committed to seeing this through together. However, we were unaware of the reality of this new journey and wholly ignorant of how many difficult, tear-filled nights we would experience as the foundation crumbled beneath our feet. 

As a wife committed to staying active in the faith, there was so much to navigate as we rewrote our narrative. I watched hesitantly over the coming months as you trialed new parameters, relieving yourself of the rigidity of orthodoxy. I smiled a little as you found joy in the non-orthodox Sabbath I once enjoyed with my convert parents as a child. I watched you painfully deconstruct the idea of eternity, only to see you respond by spending more quality time with those dearest to you as the uncertainty of life became your new reality. 

I was devastated the day when garments were no more. Anger flowed in my veins when it came time for our son to attend the temple, and I was left to carry the burden alone while I grappled with my own temple experience shifting. Attending church without you felt empty; once it was a family affair, Sunday mornings felt incomplete.

I defended you in the pews and over the pulpit as people whispered their concerns and condolences about your faith transition in hushed tones. Once a Bishop, they called you fallen, misguided, and the deceived elect. Without an “honorable” priesthood leader in our home, your faith shift labeled me dangerous and unworthy. As a woman, what little power and privilege I had in the church was extinguished without you by my side.

I waited for you to change, for the light within you to dim, for you to leave our companionship or become a person I no longer felt compatible with. When this was to all fall apart, the caution that the promised blessings of a covenant marriage would be mired with darkness and confusion if one of us stepped away, I saw the opposite happen. Your acknowledgment and deconstruction of patriarchy led to support in my endeavors and more balance in household duties and child-rearing. Your break in orthodoxy permitted new connections in us. Your shift shattered our world, allowing us to rebuild in a way I could not fathom. It has propelled us to grow, move beyond fear, and see through more empathic lenses. 

There is no guidebook on how to navigate this gracefully without hurt, but together we can build one. We experienced countless nights of tears and inadequate words because we didn’t have the vocabulary to express what we were trying to convey. This, coupled with strong egos seeking validation of our now opposing views, hindered healing. We are at odds with one another as we navigate ordinations, baptisms, and raising teens. We are trying to figure this out for them, as we were trying to sort it out for us. 

We’re three years into the mixed faith, and for those commencing on this journey, breathe deeply; there is hope. While every journey is different, ours has gained despite the difficulties of this new journey. This is what I wish I had known from the start.

Acknowledge there is pain and shifting on both sides; neither partner is static in a mixed-faith marriage. Validation will come with time; placing your relationship first creates space for expression and conversation. Understand how to support your partner in a way you may not be fully comfortable with, yet know when to express, “I can’t take this step, not yet; please wait for me to figure out how to move forward.” Mixed faith is a journey of trust and empathy. Learning to disagree views while trusting your partner wholeheartedly is the balm needed to heal and rebuild again. 

This journey is dynamic, and our community is not experienced in navigating a life without the sureties we once held central. As a couple, we have learned to sit with uncertainty, allow the cycles of grief to heal what is broken, and respect that we now have different experiences. By doing so, we have found awe, laughter, and rekindled love in this new journey. He has shifted, and I have shifted. We have gone from knowing everything to knowing nothing, to simply being in the present and allowing ourselves time and space to figure out the next steps together.

___________________

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

50th Anniversary Issue – Deadline Extended!

Our call for submissions is now extended until January 31. we want to make room for as many voices as we can!

***

Original Post:

Next year, Exponent II is celebrating 50 years of circulation. We stand on the shoulders of giants. We are so proud of this luminous publication and want to put together a special issue in honor of this major milestone.

If you feel called to submit work, we’d love to hear from you.

Some potential prompts:

What does Exponent II mean to you?Write a brief “shout out” to the magazine to be included alongside others.Describe a meaningful experience of either reading or contributing to the magazine in some way.What is a special experience you’ve had with this organization? How have you felt its sense of community?How has working on the magazine (or another branch of the organization) impacted your life?

We welcome creativity and vivid storytelling. We are also open to all kinds of mediums, such as essays, theology, poetry, art, photographs, fan mail, and more expressions of joy about what this community has brought you. Surprise us, delight us, and help us celebrate together.

To submit your work to this magazine contest, please follow the submission guidelines and submit your work via email by January 15, 2024 January 31, 2024.

Tools for Thriving in Mixed-Faith Marriage

This is the third in 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)

Laura Parry owns Roots & Branches Wellness, a counseling center in Lehi, Utah specializing in maternal mental health and couples therapy. She holds a Master’s of Social Work from the University of Utah, and in 2019 became certified in perinatal mental health (PMH-C). In addition to helping clients through the perinatal period she enjoys working with those experiencing faith transitions. She earned a clinical yoga certification in 2021, and loves using the healing power of yoga, nature, and therapy for clients and for herself. She lives in Lehi with her husband, 3 kids, 2 cats, and 1 dog, and loves reading, hiking, and playing the piano. Please visit her website and Instagram @_lauraparry for more of her work.

It can be difficult to navigate relationships where religious differences are involved. I have compiled some tips based on my lived experience as a child growing up in a mixed-faith household, currently being in a mixed-faith marriage, and being a mental health therapist who has worked with individuals and couples in mixed-faith relationships.

First, the narrative, or story we tell ourselves, about the other person in the relationship can make a big difference in our ability to navigate these changes. Both partners can work toward mutual respect by being able to articulate their partner’s reasoning and craft a helpful narrative about why they left or why they stayed.

Here are some examples of unhelpful narratives about a partner who left the church:

• They’ve been deceived
• What they read online convinced them to leave
• They stopped (reading scriptures, praying, etc.) so they fell away

Here are some examples of unhelpful narratives about a partner who stays in the
church:

• They are being deceived
• They are blindly following
• They would leave if they’d just learn what I have

All of the unhelpful examples de-center the agency, autonomy, and lived experience of the other person. Here are some examples of helpful narratives about the partner who left the church:

• The church was causing them pain
• The church doesn’t align with their values
• They feel they haven’t been taught the truth at church and have lost belief

Here are some examples of helpful narratives about a partner who stays in the church:

• They believe the church is true
• The church makes their life better
• They gain (peace, community, etc.) from going to church

All of the helpful examples are based on the partner taking an active, rather than passive, role in their life choices; and come from a place of empathy. If we believe we are living in our integrity through our choice to either stay in or leave the church, we should work toward extending our partner the same understanding. Ideally we would be able to say, “I recognize that if I’d had their life experiences I would be making the same choice they are right now.” Creating this narrative requires a high level of differentiation, in which we become comfortable with our partner making different choices and having different feelings than ourselves.

It’s also helpful to actively work on living your shared values and creating new shared experiences. To create a list of shared values you can search for values lists on the internet like this one. You and your partner separately highlight the values that resonate with you and then compare. (A good exercise for all couples, not just for mixed-faith issues!) Nothing can quite replace having a shared religious experience but there can be other meaningful and important activities and events you can engage in as a couple to strengthen your relationship.

One partner having a faith transition might be the first big test of emotional connection in a relationship, and can be difficult to surmount without skills or support. A faith transition can be a clarifying time for your relationship. Maybe you realize even though you used to practice the same religion you never really shared an emotional connection because of it. Or, if you and your partner did feel emotionally connected due to practicing religion, it’s essential to find new ways to foster connection. Remember connection can be created in many ways. Make it a goal to actively express empathy and love for each other and be willing to practice connection in new ways.

Setting boundaries and increasing communication are also essential. It’s helpful for both partners to be as vulnerable as possible in sharing their “why” with boundary setting. If your partner has left and wants you to listen to every podcast and read every article, but you don’t want to, it’s ok to set a boundary. Saying “I don’t want to read that because it’s bringing up fear, pain, or grief for me right now, and I don’t think I can manage that at this time” is usually more helpful than just saying no. If the partner who stays doesn’t want coffee in the house, saying, “Making coffee at home is important to me because it’s something I’d like to try out, it will help me save money, and it is important to my personal expression,” is better than just making the coffee with no conversation. It does take two safe people to communicate in this way, and it’s ok if you attempt this and it doesn’t go as planned. It takes practice. Seek therapy if having these conversations is consistently too difficult or overwhelming.

Lastly, take care of your grief. If one partner in a couple changes their relationship with religion/faith it can make the relationship feel unsteady. It can be a time of uncertainty, where feelings of betrayal, fear and judgment are often present. Mixed-faith marriage necessarily involves grief, and suppressing it doesn’t help anyone. Many times the partner who has had a change in faith is grieving their previous life choices or the past version of themself. They also know their relationship will change and may begin grieving it even before their partner knows about their faith transition. In this way, the partner leaving religion might have a head start on some of this grief work. It’s essential for the staying partner to have time and space to grieve also.

Earlier this year I recorded a webinar with more tips on thriving in a mixed-faith marriage here (scroll down to find my name and enter your email to receive access).

Laura Parry, LCSW, PMH-C

___________________

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

Tools for Thriving in Mixed-Faith Marriage (MFM series)

This is the third in 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)

Laura Parry owns Roots & Branches Wellness, a counseling center in Lehi, Utah specializing in maternal mental health and couples therapy. She holds a Master’s of Social Work from the University of Utah, and in 2019 became certified in perinatal mental health (PMH-C). In addition to helping clients through the perinatal period she enjoys working with those experiencing faith transitions. She earned a clinical yoga certification in 2021, and loves using the healing power of yoga, nature, and therapy for clients and for herself. She lives in Lehi with her husband, 3 kids, 2 cats, and 1 dog, and loves reading, hiking, and playing the piano. Please visit her website and Instagram @_lauraparry for more of her work.

It can be difficult to navigate relationships where religious differences are involved. I have compiled some tips based on my lived experience as a child growing up in a mixed-faith household, currently being in a mixed-faith marriage, and being a mental health therapist who has worked with individuals and couples in mixed-faith relationships.

First, the narrative, or story we tell ourselves, about the other person in the relationship can make a big difference in our ability to navigate these changes. Both partners can work toward mutual respect by being able to articulate their partner’s reasoning and craft a helpful narrative about why they left or why they stayed.

Here are some examples of unhelpful narratives about a partner who left the church:

• They’ve been deceived
• What they read online convinced them to leave
• They stopped (reading scriptures, praying, etc.) so they fell away

Here are some examples of unhelpful narratives about a partner who stays in the
church:

• They are being deceived
• They are blindly following
• They would leave if they’d just learn what I have

All of the unhelpful examples de-center the agency, autonomy, and lived experience of the other person. Here are some examples of helpful narratives about the partner who left the church:

• The church was causing them pain
• The church doesn’t align with their values
• They feel they haven’t been taught the truth at church and have lost belief

Here are some examples of helpful narratives about a partner who stays in the church:

• They believe the church is true
• The church makes their life better
• They gain (peace, community, etc.) from going to church

All of the helpful examples are based on the partner taking an active, rather than passive, role in their life choices; and come from a place of empathy. If we believe we are living in our integrity through our choice to either stay in or leave the church, we should work toward extending our partner the same understanding. Ideally we would be able to say, “I recognize that if I’d had their life experiences I would be making the same choice they are right now.” Creating this narrative requires a high level of differentiation, in which we become comfortable with our partner making different choices and having different feelings than ourselves.

It’s also helpful to actively work on living your shared values and creating new shared experiences. To create a list of shared values you can search for values lists on the internet like this one. You and your partner separately highlight the values that resonate with you and then compare. (A good exercise for all couples, not just for mixed-faith issues!) Nothing can quite replace having a shared religious experience but there can be other meaningful and important activities and events you can engage in as a couple to strengthen your relationship.

One partner having a faith transition might be the first big test of emotional connection in a relationship, and can be difficult to surmount without skills or support. A faith transition can be a clarifying time for your relationship. Maybe you realize even though you used to practice the same religion you never really shared an emotional connection because of it. Or, if you and your partner did feel emotionally connected due to practicing religion, it’s essential to find new ways to foster connection. Remember connection can be created in many ways. Make it a goal to actively express empathy and love for each other and be willing to practice connection in new ways.

Setting boundaries and increasing communication are also essential. It’s helpful for both partners to be as vulnerable as possible in sharing their “why” with boundary setting. If your partner has left and wants you to listen to every podcast and read every article, but you don’t want to, it’s ok to set a boundary. Saying “I don’t want to read that because it’s bringing up fear, pain, or grief for me right now, and I don’t think I can manage that at this time” is usually more helpful than just saying no. If the partner who stays doesn’t want coffee in the house, saying, “Making coffee at home is important to me because it’s something I’d like to try out, it will help me save money, and it is important to my personal expression,” is better than just making the coffee with no conversation. It does take two safe people to communicate in this way, and it’s ok if you attempt this and it doesn’t go as planned. It takes practice. Seek therapy if having these conversations is consistently too difficult or overwhelming.

Lastly, take care of your grief. If one partner in a couple changes their relationship with religion/faith it can make the relationship feel unsteady. It can be a time of uncertainty, where feelings of betrayal, fear and judgment are often present. Mixed-faith marriage necessarily involves grief, and suppressing it doesn’t help anyone. Many times the partner who has had a change in faith is grieving their previous life choices or the past version of themself. They also know their relationship will change and may begin grieving it even before their partner knows about their faith transition. In this way, the partner leaving religion might have a head start on some of this grief work. It’s essential for the staying partner to have time and space to grieve also.

Earlier this year I recorded a webinar with more tips on thriving in a mixed-faith marriage here (scroll down to find my name and enter your email to receive access).

Laura Parry, LCSW, PMH-C

___________________

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

The Blessings of My Mixed Faith Marriage (MFM series)

This is the second in 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: Terry is a retired hydrogeologist for the state of Wisconsin. She volunteers with her neighborhood association and enjoys helping connect people with local support services. She lives with her husband in Madison, WI. (She is shown vacationing with her daughter Cara in the image above.)

“Does the church consider it a sin for us to marry?”, my fiancé, Marty, asked my Bishop. We were meeting, at my behest, to discuss our impending marriage. “Yes, a sin of omission”, he replied. I don’t remember the rest of that interview, only that I left upset and unhappy. Marty, a “non-member” and I had met about eight months before at a birthday party where the host had arranged our blind date. I knew when I set eyes upon him that he was special and that we’d get to know each other better. Now, approaching our wedding, I thought it would be good to get some marriage insight and advice from my ecclesiastical leader.

I’d joined the church seven years before in 1973, at 19, and was an “all in Mormon”. I felt I’d found my people. I felt embraced and accepted. As a first born, an extrovert and kinetic learner, the expectations of always accepting callings, following leaders, keeping the rules (written and unwritten), and actively engaging with members, appealed to my personality. In a very real way the Mormon church was my life – it was easy for me to be a box checking, rule-following Mormon. I ate up the idea that while I couldn’t actually achieve perfection in this life, I could be perfect in specific ways (a common topic of Sacrament talks in the 1970s). Monthly visits to my assigned sisters? Check. Leader of the ward YSA group? I drove hundreds of miles monthly collecting the YSAs who didn’t have cars so they could attend our weekly meetings. When we started dating, Marty attended those YSA activities, too. He was welcomed and befriended. 

Marty is a life-long member of the Church of Christ Scientist (aka Christian Science). LDS and Christian Science practices are similar in important ways – local churches function as members voluntarily fill and alternate in leadership, teaching, and other roles. Both have a very similar health code that members by and large abide by. Therefore, the outward practice of each other’s religion were very familiar to us both. The doctrinal teachings, however, are quite different. One example: where Latter-day Saints believe that matter is eternal and even spirit is refined matter, Christian Scientists eschew matter and believe that everything is spiritual. This forms the basis of their approach to healing physical ailments through prayer and faith rather than by seeking medical help. 

After a few months, when it was clear that our friendship might lead to marriage, Marty and I spent many, many hours discussing our religious views, our commitment to our religion, and the things that attracted us to our church communities. We exchanged holy books – Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy and the Book of Mormon — and attended one another’s worship services (easy because our chapels were only a few blocks apart). When we got engaged, we agreed to core principles that have guided the last 44 years of our lives: 1) we would respect each others beliefs and commitments; 2) we would not try to convert the other to our religion; and 3) any children we had would be raised LDS. The last point was non-negotiable for me. Marty had visited Primary and admired the strong youth program in LDS church and didn’t have a concern with this stipulation. 

The evening of our interview with the Bishop was my first clue that my experience and perception of the church would change when I married. While my friends in the ward were happy and supportive of my decision, there were others who were less enamored. Some ward members urged me to “convert” Marty before we married and others warned me that the Lord expected me to be married in the temple. It was the first time I’d experienced a direct push back and judgement from ward members for a decision that I felt in my heart was right and good. 

We were married in early 1980. At that time, my marriage meant I’d never have access to the temple.  Non-endowed women who married non-members were barred from temple attendance until about 1984. (The reverse was not true for LDS men.) Thus my marriage was an awakening to the inequities that had always existed in the church but I was unwilling to see. I have continued to faithfully serve in the church and spent many years in ward and stake leadership callings. With those callings, other scales have fallen from my eyes — the unequal power dynamics in church councils, the wounds of historical racism, the privilege of being a white American in the most American of all churches. My “mixed faith” marriage has been my entree into more complex, nuanced understanding of myself, of the church, and of the world around me. 

I have been deeply blessed by my husband and our marriage. I believe our marriage is as or more successful than many temple marriages I’ve observed. An important dynamic in our marriage is that we are “equally yoked”. There is no priesthood power dynamic in our household, no sense that one or the other of us is expected to or needs to “preside”. We support each other fully in our respective church callings. We’ve done a lot of service across our congregational boundaries. Marty, an Eagle Scout, spent more than 30 years supporting our ward Scouting program and as chair of the ward Scout committee. I’ve done childcare at his church lectures, shoveled snow and raked leaves at his church. We have good friends from both congregations. Our life is enriched by our respective church communities.

Over the years I’ve come to realize that I’m lucky to not carry the expectational freight of a temple marriage. I’ve been free to choose how I interact with the church, what doctrines I choose to believe or not believe, how “in” or “out” of sync I feel with the latest church policies, without those gyrations and concerns rocking the boat of my marriage. I can complain to Marty about the LDS church without those concerns having anything to do with our relationship. Marriage is hard enough without feeling that one’s eternal salvation is dependent on the choices one’s spouse makes. I’m willing to accept the consequences of my own choices. I do not worry about my or my family’s eternal existence in the Celestial Kingdom. I am convinced that God, in Their infinite love and wisdom, has prepared mansions for all their children. 

This is the uncropped photograph of Terry and her daughter, Cara together in Spain last month in the Plaza de España in Sevilla. (Two generations of awesome Exponent II supporters!)

___________________

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

Phases of a Mixed Faith Marriage (MFM series)

This is the first in 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 have been in a mixed faith marriage since 2018 and I have spent countless hours working with clients in a mixed faith marriage. 

On a personal and professional level I have seen marriages go through what I call the “phases of a mixed faith marriage.” I am going to share a little about the various phases here.

First, I want to be very clear that not everyone goes through every single phase. Not everyone goes through them in the same order. Spouses do not go through them at the same time. You will not experience them as linear, meaning you do not experience them in a particular order. You may repeat a phase or skip a phase. This list is not comprehensive, just the most common ones I have seen or experienced. Some of the phases overlap with the grief cycle.  That is intentional as there is significant overlap.

With that said, here are the phases: 

Ignore It And Hope It Goes Away Phase

This is also known as denial. This phase sounds like, “This can’t be happening,” “This is a phase,” “They/I will get over it, I don’t need to do anything.” 

Both partners can experience denial. 

For the transitioning spouse they may have denial about their own faith crisis. This was certainly my experience. I was not aware I was in a faith crisis for some time, because I was just working through some things, and an actual faith crisis wouldn’t happen to me.  

For the believing spouse, they may not want to give that much credence to what their spouse is experiencing because it’s going to pass anyway.  

We often refer to denial as if it were a bad thing. It is not. It’s a coping thing. It is a normal thing. It’s ok to be in denial from time to time as It’s how we deal with overwhelming events. Just like anything, too much of it can be problematic.

Walking On Eggshells Phase 

This phase is often when things feel on edge and when someone is angry. It’s also known as the angry phase. 

Again both partners tend to experience this phase. 

The focus is often on the transitioning spouse’s anger. They may be angry at the church, their past choices, or their spouse for not being able to understand their choices and motivations.

The believing spouse may be angry at podcasts, their spouse’s support group, or their spouse for following a path away from the church. 

This phase can be embarrassing. Many shame themself for their behavior in this phase.

I think how you respond to your spouse’s angry phase speaks volumes to the health of the relationship. And how you respond to your own angry phase speaks volumes to the health of your relationship with yourself. (NOTE: I am not referring to people who are chronically angry in their relationship or narcissistic, that is not a phase, that is a way of being.)

This was an area where I personally struggled. We could not tolerate the other’s expression of anger and we retreated into what I consider the “demilitarized zone” where we stopped talking about church stuff altogether. Learning to be gentle with ourselves and our spouse in this phase can be a game changer. 

Anger, like denial, is okay. It’s a normal human emotion. Feeling anger does not make you a bad person, it makes you human. 

Why Can’t You Just Change Phase 

If you are familiar with the grief process this phase can be like bargaining. 

This is when you try to get your spouse to join you. 

Come join me on my faith transition. 

Or come join me back on the pew. 

There may be podcasts or conference talks being sent back and forth. 

I wanted my spouse to agree with me because I wanted my choice to be validated by him. 

I see this with clients I work with as well. It can alleviate stress and fear to have your spouse confirm your decisions and conclusions. 

For me, I wanted him to understand why I was doing what I was doing so I didn’t feel so alone and crazy. I wanted him to see my reasons  as valid. I wanted him to say, 

“Dang you are right! This makes perfect sense.”

I think that validation can be a great part of a relationship.  I think there comes a time when we need to give ourselves the validation we are seeking. External validation can become like a hamster wheel and we are never really satiated. Internal validation is much more sustainable. 

If They Really Loved Me They Would… Phase 

I see this one all the time with clients. Here is how it looked for me.

If he really loved me he would ask me about my faith transition.

If he really loved me he would understand why this matters to me.

Here is how it looks for some of my clients.

If s/he really loved me he wouldn’t want to try coffee or alcohol or take off his garments. 

If s/he really loved me he wouldn’t have this faith transition.

I actually think this phase is about acknowledging loss and pain and dealing with life when things are not how they are supposed to be. 

I think what is often meant is:

He is supposed to ask me about my faith transition. 

He is supposed to understand why this matters to me.

He is supposed to not want to try alcohol or coffee or take off his garments. 

He is supposed to always be active in church. 

Letting go of “supposed to be-s” is a skill I would recommend to anyone. Holding on to “supposed to be-s” causes so much suffering.

Maybe This Will Work And Maybe This Won’t Work Phase 

This phase can feel like fits and starts. One day it’s all hopeful and the next day someone doubles down or something unfortunate is said. It’s hot and cold or up and down. 

It usually feels better because you might now have some ups. 

For me I started to notice the ups. We could joke about things again or even just talk about certain things. He could tell me about a talk in sacrament meeting. I could mention something I had heard about the church and it was okay. 

This is a phase when some of the initial emotional upheavals start to calm down and more cognitive work can be done. Some people can now look at their beliefs around gender roles, purpose of marriage or divorce.

This Is Good Phase

The hallmark of this phase is acceptance. 

Acceptance does not mean you approve or you agree.

Acceptance is acknowledging the reality of the current situation and not ignoring it, resisting it or avoiding it.

It might be accepting they are an adult and can make their own decisions regarding their faith.

It might be accepting that you would not want to dictate decisions for them because you love them and do not want to force them to be different.

It might be accepting them exactly as they are. 

One of the most painful messages to receive from your spouse is, “I’d like you more if you were less like you.”

*****

Whatever phase you may find yourself in is okay. It’s part of the process of being in a mixed faith marriage. There is nothing wrong with any phase. I share these phases with you to give you perspective of where you have been and where you may be heading and not to label your experience as bad or wrong as it’s enough to manage the transition of being in a mixed faith marriage. 

___________________

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

Phases of a Mixed Faith Marriage (#MFMSeries)

This is the first in 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 have been in a mixed faith marriage since 2018 and I have spent countless hours working with clients in a mixed faith marriage. 

On a personal and professional level I have seen marriages go through what I call the “phases of a mixed faith marriage.” I am going to share a little about the various phases here.

First, I want to be very clear that not everyone goes through every single phase. Not everyone goes through them in the same order. Spouses do not go through them at the same time. You will not experience them as linear, meaning you do not experience them in a particular order. You may repeat a phase or skip a phase. This list is not comprehensive, just the most common ones I have seen or experienced. Some of the phases overlap with the grief cycle.  That is intentional as there is significant overlap.

With that said, here are the phases: 

Ignore It And Hope It Goes Away Phase

This is also known as denial. This phase sounds like, “This can’t be happening,” “This is a phase,” “They/I will get over it, I don’t need to do anything.” 

Both partners can experience denial. 

For the transitioning spouse they may have denial about their own faith crisis. This was certainly my experience. I was not aware I was in a faith crisis for some time, because I was just working through some things, and an actual faith crisis wouldn’t happen to me.  

For the believing spouse, they may not want to give that much credence to what their spouse is experiencing because it’s going to pass anyway.  

We often refer to denial as if it were a bad thing. It is not. It’s a coping thing. It is a normal thing. It’s ok to be in denial from time to time as It’s how we deal with overwhelming events. Just like anything, too much of it can be problematic.

Walking On Eggshells Phase 

This phase is often when things feel on edge and when someone is angry. It’s also known as the angry phase. 

Again both partners tend to experience this phase. 

The focus is often on the transitioning spouse’s anger. They may be angry at the church, their past choices, or their spouse for not being able to understand their choices and motivations.

The believing spouse may be angry at podcasts, their spouse’s support group, or their spouse for following a path away from the church. 

This phase can be embarrassing. Many shame themself for their behavior in this phase.

I think how you respond to your spouse’s angry phase speaks volumes to the health of the relationship. And how you respond to your own angry phase speaks volumes to the health of your relationship with yourself. (NOTE: I am not referring to people who are chronically angry in their relationship or narcissistic, that is not a phase, that is a way of being.)

This was an area where I personally struggled. We could not tolerate the other’s expression of anger and we retreated into what I consider the “demilitarized zone” where we stopped talking about church stuff altogether. Learning to be gentle with ourselves and our spouse in this phase can be a game changer. 

Anger, like denial, is okay. It’s a normal human emotion. Feeling anger does not make you a bad person, it makes you human. 

Why Can’t You Just Change Phase 

If you are familiar with the grief process this phase can be like bargaining. 

This is when you try to get your spouse to join you. 

Come join me on my faith transition. 

Or come join me back on the pew. 

There may be podcasts or conference talks being sent back and forth. 

I wanted my spouse to agree with me because I wanted my choice to be validated by him. 

I see this with clients I work with as well. It can alleviate stress and fear to have your spouse confirm your decisions and conclusions. 

For me, I wanted him to understand why I was doing what I was doing so I didn’t feel so alone and crazy. I wanted him to see my reasons  as valid. I wanted him to say, 

“Dang you are right! This makes perfect sense.”

I think that validation can be a great part of a relationship.  I think there comes a time when we need to give ourselves the validation we are seeking. External validation can become like a hamster wheel and we are never really satiated. Internal validation is much more sustainable. 

If They Really Loved Me They Would… Phase 

I see this one all the time with clients. Here is how it looked for me.

If he really loved me he would ask me about my faith transition.

If he really loved me he would understand why this matters to me.

Here is how it looks for some of my clients.

If s/he really loved me he wouldn’t want to try coffee or alcohol or take off his garments. 

If s/he really loved me he wouldn’t have this faith transition.

I actually think this phase is about acknowledging loss and pain and dealing with life when things are not how they are supposed to be. 

I think what is often meant is:

He is supposed to ask me about my faith transition. 

He is supposed to understand why this matters to me.

He is supposed to not want to try alcohol or coffee or take off his garments. 

He is supposed to always be active in church. 

Letting go of “supposed to be-s” is a skill I would recommend to anyone. Holding on to “supposed to be-s” causes so much suffering.

Maybe This Will Work And Maybe This Won’t Work Phase 

This phase can feel like fits and starts. One day it’s all hopeful and the next day someone doubles down or something unfortunate is said. It’s hot and cold or up and down. 

It usually feels better because you might now have some ups. 

For me I started to notice the ups. We could joke about things again or even just talk about certain things. He could tell me about a talk in sacrament meeting. I could mention something I had heard about the church and it was okay. 

This is a phase when some of the initial emotional upheavals start to calm down and more cognitive work can be done. Some people can now look at their beliefs around gender roles, purpose of marriage or divorce.

This Is Good Phase

The hallmark of this phase is acceptance. 

Acceptance does not mean you approve or you agree.

Acceptance is acknowledging the reality of the current situation and not ignoring it, resisting it or avoiding it.

It might be accepting they are an adult and can make their own decisions regarding their faith.

It might be accepting that you would not want to dictate decisions for them because you love them and do not want to force them to be different.

It might be accepting them exactly as they are. 

One of the most painful messages to receive from your spouse is, “I’d like you more if you were less like you.”

*****

Whatever phase you may find yourself in is okay. It’s part of the process of being in a mixed faith marriage. There is nothing wrong with any phase. I share these phases with you to give you perspective of where you have been and where you may be heading and not to label your experience as bad or wrong as it’s enough to manage the transition of being in a mixed faith marriage. 

___________________

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

“Stand Aside, Women.”

“I worshipped dead men for their strength,

Forgetting I was strong.”

Vita Sackville-West

For Christmas last year, I planned a bubble ball party for my nieces and nephews. I scheduled my ward building’s gym months in advance. However, on the morning of the bubble ball party, I noticed that my event was no longer on the calendar. Luckily, there was nothing scheduled until 5:00 that evening.

After an extensive setup, twelve kids were screaming and bouncing and rolling around the gym.

However, after a few minutes, a group of men charged in, phones in hand. 

“What are you doing here?” One man demanded. I explained. 

“Well, you are not on the calendar,” he said. 

“Yes, I know that,” I said, “I did schedule the building, but it isn’t showing up anymore. I don’t know why.”

“I have the building every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for men’s soccer.”

Middle-aged men with soccer bags flipped chairs open with one hand and sat pulling socks up their shins, changing shoes, and laughing together.

“Oh. I’m so sorry. This is just a once-a-year thing for my nieces and nephews,” I said as my nephew, inside a bubble ball, rolled past, screaming with joy.

“Well,” the stranger said, with impatience, “You aren’t on the calendar.”

“You aren’t on the calendar, either,” I said.

“Well. I’m a bishop.” 

“Oh,” I said, getting an idea, “do you have keys to the building across the street?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Great! Then can you guys go play soccer in that gym?”

“No. That gym is too small.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling like I was missing something. “Well, how about you and your friends play soccer on half the court, and we will stay-”

“No,” he interrupted, “We need the whole gym. And you aren’t on the calendar.” Then he said again: “I’m a bishop.” 

“I can’t be a bishop,” I said. He laughed.

He walked away and returned with his phone, pointing to “men’s soccer” on the calendar from 12:30-2:00. “See, now I’m on the calendar.” 

My nephews were returning to Nevada in just a few hours; I had planned this event for weeks, and I had eight massive bubble balls that were heavy and expensive – I refused to pack it all up because this man told me to, even if he had just added himself to the calendar, even if he was a bishop. 

But once my sister saw that the bishop’s event was on the calendar, she started heaving the balls onto the stage and telling the kids to get up there, too. A few men started kicking a soccer ball around the kids – the kids who began realizing they were being pushed aside. 

I’m not sure how it happened, but we ended up on the stage, behind the curtains, with eight bubble balls that filled every inch of space, twelve restless children climbing around them, three women, and a table full of snacks while eight middle-aged men played soccer in the gym.

I felt like crying. Shame shivered out of my body as I stood in front of the closed curtain, protecting the kids from falling off the stage. I felt shame for giving in, for my confusion and lack of power. 

“I am a bishop.” That phrase perplexed me because that is not what he meant. 

I often find camaraderie with Catherine, Jane Austen’s character from the novel Northanger Abbey, who exclaims, “But why he should say one thing so positively, and mean another all the while, was most unaccountable! How were people, at that rate, to be understood?” Indeed, how are people to be understood when they don’t say what they mean? It is confusing. My confusion made me accommodating. What the bishop meant was, “I get what I want. So step aside.”

Eventually, my sisters and I let the kids run through the church halls like a pack of wild wolves. We stayed on the stage for an hour and a half. Oh, the shame. The kids didn’t notice; they would enter the hidden stage every once in a while for snacks, all sweaty and red-faced from their exhilarating excursions into the mysterious dark corridors and tunnels of the abandoned church building.

But, actually, they probably did notice.

They probably noticed that a smaller pack of men forced the women and children to the sidelines. How could they not notice their aunts and mothers moving aside, staying hidden because a bishop’s voice said so? “Move aside; let the men take the gym.” I wish those men would have said those words. But they didn’t. They said one thing so positively and meant another all the while.

I felt pushed to my knees by a person who pretended it was where I belonged even though I knew it wasn’t . . . but I still allowed it. This silence, this normalizing of women’s obedience, scratches the insides of my skin like sandpaper.

Unfortunately, patriarchy constantly says one thing so positively and means another all the while. Step aside, it means, let the men give blessings, be witnesses, speak in conference, be ordained, fill ward councils and high priests and stake presidencies and bishoprics. Step aside, women. Let men bless your babies and baptize your children and write your rules and make God in their image. Stand aside women and sit in the pews and wait in the halls; wait for the men to call you and set you apart. Stand aside women, stand aside Heavenly Mother, stand aside Miriam and Huldah and Deborah and Anna. Wait to be ignored and told no and forgotten about. Stand aside, women, and learn how to quietly stand in your place on the side, behind the curtain.

I have learned to write under an alias. To think but not speak in ward councils. I have learned to pretend well that the system isn’t harmful. I have learned to see the good mixed in with corruption. I have learned to stand aside. To wait behind the curtain weak with shame. 

I am so tired of seeing patriarchy and being invisible to it.

Photo by Rob Laughter on Unsplash

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash