Onward

Photo by Jody England Hansen

I am setting aside my planned topic. This is a week of reflection, and trying to find hope.

This has been a week of loss, and remembrance of loss. Yesterday, it was 5 years since my father-in-law passed, and we remember him. Last week it was the 20th anniversary of my father’s death, and I miss him every day. On that same day last week, dear friend Curt Bench died suddenly. It is poignant to realize he was the same age my dad was when he died 20 years ago. A few days ago, I was planning on attending a book signing event at Benchmark Books, for the new biography of my dad, by Terryl Givens. Instead, I watched the funeral online as Curt’s family and friends sharing lovely and loving memories of this deeply good man.

It has been a week of remembering the ways people have impacted my life, and influenced my journey.

A few days ago, it hurt to read the words of Elder Holland, and feel and hear of the pain being experienced from those words. This is a man who has, at times, brought me hope and encouragement. It is difficult when someone who has testified of a God whose love is beyond comprehension, uses the podium to diminish the experience and existence of those who are different from traditional binary roles, those whose difference might possibly make someone uncomfortable and are therefore in need of silencing. It is alarming that he would use violent imagery during a time when extremists are using any excuse to use weapons against those they do not understand. I don’t know why he would include such things in his talk.

And there is work to be done. There are those in mourning, and in need of comfort. There are those who are at risk, and in need of people who would catch stones that are thrown at them (in reference to a valuable conference talk by Elder Renlund), and block the figurative and literal musket fire aimed at them.

There is a complex challenge here. Can I learn to acknowledge the harmful words, mourn the contradiction of message from a leader who usually has a compassionate message, resist focusing attention on this person, resist assuming malice, and instead focus energy on overcoming a harmful message with love? Can I be a part of overcoming evil with good?

I appreciate the request from Maxine Hanks, that after we do all we can to love and support those who are hurting and at risk, to then pray for Elder Holland, that he may be overwhelmed by God’s love. I think that is the only thing that can transform whatever is behind this speech. We cannot overcome hurt with hurt. We can only overcome with love.

I have been blessed with the company of Carol Lynn Pearson this week. I was able to host her while she was in town to speak at the ERA Coalition Rally last night at the Utah Capitol, and the following vigil at Memory Grove. There were several speakers who have been involved in this effort to ratify the ERA since the ‘70s. Carol Lynn is one of them. Like several others, she spoke of events, and rallies, and conferences from back then. The optimism, the obvious, simple benefit of this amendment, the rhetoric and push back from some community and church leaders, the staunch support from other leaders, the discouragement, followed by renewed hope. And the constant call to keep on working, to keep calling out “When do we want it? Now!” even as we continue on through the 5th decade of working for this, and approach the century mark of its introduction.

When Karen Shepherd was speaking, she referred to the International Year of the Woman conference that was held in Salt Lake City in 1977. She asked if anyone there had attended, and I was the only one that held up my hand. She spoke of how carefully they had organized to offer an informative and valuable conference. But it was overrun by church members, women and men who came with instructions to shut down the conversation about equality, and to hijack the vote. I was in the minority, apparently. I attended the workshops, and listened to the speeches. It was the first time I heard Christine Durham speak, and I was impressed. It was the first time I attended a conference where every speaker was a strong, articulate woman, and every workshop provided information about being involved and making a difference in the world. This was how I had been raised, and how I experienced living the gospel of Christ.

I also saw many people there who were tearing down signs, disrupting meetings, noisily gathering in the halls during speeches, then rushing in to overwhelm the voting. Seeing this helped influenced  my journey in several ways. I saw behavior that caused a paradigm shift for me. I could see that just because a man was a priesthood holder, that did not guarantee any kind of Christlike behavior or understanding. Many of the men there had come with groups of women from their wards, and they were forcefully, almost gleefully using their influence to take over the conference. I could see that shutting your ears and eyes, refusing to consider anything different from traditional rhetoric, and insisting there is nothing new for you to learn – this was not and never would be inspiring or have lasting influence. I also saw which church and community leaders I was inspired by, and which continue to inspire me. These women were also there, calmly responding with good information, following effective procedure, honoring the process, and not giving up or following the example of the opposition.

One of the speakers last night was someone who shared his own journey of realizing his mistake in voting against the ERA, his regret, and how the persistent actions of inspiring people made a difference in his change of heart. I wonder how many of the people who stormed the conference in 1977 would feel the same today. How many would tell their grandchildren about what they did, and defend it in any way.

I listened to the speakers last night, women who are older than I. Women who have been involved in activism longer than I. I did not hear bitterness. I did not hear any suggestion that they felt they were victims, even those who had been targeted and harmed by others. These women were focusing their energy on what could, what might have a chance at making a difference. There was not time for them to dwell on reasoning or motives of those who did not, or would not listen or try to understand. There is still work to be done, and resources need to focus on what will matter the most.

This morning I am hearing from friends who were on panels at the BYU conference for faculty and staff this week. These panels followed the speech Holland gave on Monday. Some of my friends were concerned about how their presentations about the need for inclusion and belonging at BYU would be received. Some were sharing their own, or their loved ones’ experiences of being hurt, threatened and marginalized because they are queer, or BIPOC. Several have shared about how overwhelmed they have been with the positive way they were listened to, and the desire of so many at BYU to learn about how to create a safe and affirming campus for everyone. Personal conversations have followed with stake presidents who want to make their stakes safe for all members.

What happens when people who are seeking Christ feel jolted by words that are not Christlike?

Did the speech from Monday become a setting for some paradigm shifts?

I can hope. I want to hope.

For now, there are people who are hurting. People who are mourning.

There are stones to catch, and muskets to block.

There is work to be done.

Onward.