Category Archives: LDS

a high price


alyssum, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

“I was born in ancient times at the end of the world in a patriarchal, Catholic and conservative family. No wonder that by age five I was a raging feminist, although the term had not reached Chile yet, so nobody knew what the heck was wrong with me. I would soon find out that there was a high price to pay for my freedom and for questioning the patriarchy, but I was happy to pay it because for every blow that I received I was able to deliver two.”
~Isabel Allende

In this vein, some of you may be interested in reading my SunstoneBlog post about attending a friend’s Bat Mitzvah ceremony and my “Leaving the Garden” story at MindOnFire.

the sacrament of doubt

Just skimmed through Paul Toscano’s latest book, Sacrament of Doubt. This book might appeal to some of my readers with LDS background. It’s a collection of Paul’s recent talks, including a rather scathing critique of Mormon apostle Boyd K. Packer. But what caught my eye was this passage:

Perhaps faith is to give God the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps doubt is to restrain the narcissism of certainty. For me, the bread of doubt is as sacred as the water of faith. Together they form a eucharist of hope, a wellspring of charity–a love that is neither partial nor sentimental but simply the heart’s desire that God’s love fall like rain in equal measure upon the just and the unjust, that no one claim a blessing one would withhold from another or impose a burden one would not bear oneself.

Such charity is what, in the end, may be the best remedy for the privations of poverty, the pretensions of priesthood, and the privileging of patriarchs because it does not arise upon the authority of certainty but is a grace flowing freely from the ordinance of faith and the sacrament of doubt.

pilgrimgirl classic: Why I Blog

Friends, I read through this post from 7/24/06 last night and thought it might be about time to repost it. Enjoy!

I’m preparing to speak about Mormon feminist blogging in a few weeks. So as I’ve been mulling over various thoughts, I thought I’d make a list of the top 10 reasons why I blog….

1) For reflection. Each time I sit at my computer to write a post, I reflect on my life and cull the gems that I feel are worth sharing. This affords the opportunity to recall joy, blessings, frustrations. I like these moments of examination, they offer great insight.
2) For FUN. Often, blogging is play for me. I take an experience and try to render it in text. I experiment with phrasing, punctuation and pauses. I attempt to express humor and pathos.
3) To tell it like it is. I like having the uninterrupted space to tell my stories. No one is cutting me off mid-sentence or censoring my words. It’s probably the narcissist in me that enjoys the blog as both soapbox and pedestal.
4) To speak the unspeakable. On my blog I’ve often discussed my disability. This is a fairly taboo subject in mainstream culture. It’s empowering to me to tell the stories of my different body without framing them in terms of an inspirational or pity-full narrative. Yet, ironically, it is the parts of my life that are the most visible (my religious practice, my academic pursuits) that I discuss least often. I’m not yet sure why that is. (more on this in #10)
5) To share pictures. I’ve just started really enjoying photography. I know our camera sucks and my photos are amateur-ish, but they bring me great joy. I love sharing my ‘lens’ with you.
6) For community. Several of you, dear readers, know me only through my blog. Others of you are old familiar friends who like to continue to keep in touch through cyberspace. I cherish my virtual neighborhood. Your blogs and emails nourish me, your thoughts buoy me, and your comments affirm, challenge, provoke and validate my musings.
7) For memory. What joy it is to scroll through my blog history and remember the fun things I’ve done!
8) Because I’m a geek. Hmmmm….yes, I spend a good chunk of my day sitting at my laptop writing emails and composing blogposts. ‘nuff said.
9) To mimic John. I’m not really the jealous type, but I saw all the benefits that he’s gotten from blogging through the years, and I wanted in on it, too!
10) To be vulnerable. Though the personal essays and other opportunities I’ve had to share the intimate parts of my life over the past 10 years, I have often been afraid. I’ve been afraid to tell the truth as I see it, I’ve been afraid of offending, I’ve even been afraid of ‘discipline.’* But there is something so empowering about laying out truth bare. My truth-telling brings me closer to others, creates bonds with strangers, allows an intimacy that is both frightening and exhilarating.

*I suspect that the reason I feel reticent to discuss school and church are because of fear of backlash. Within academia there’s a pretty high barrier to becoming personal and vulnerable. The LDS church has a history is censuring its more outspoken members, especially feminist women. So far, no one in the Mormon ‘Bloggernacle’ has been disciplined by church authorities for what they’ve written on their blogs, yet I am still wary. I love the freedom of the LDS community on the Net. I don’t want to see that change.

reverence

As Mormon children we are taught a lot about reverence. In Mo parlance reverence doesn’t have anything to do with respect or awe, it’s about sitting quietly in your seat with your arms folded across your lap (and I’m not at all exaggerating about the posture) for the 3-hour block of meetings each Sunday. As children we are repeatedly told this and every week in the children’s Primary meeting there are ‘reverence songs’ to underscore these ideas.

I haven’t heard the word reverence discussed in Quaker circles, at least not in any memorable way. What did move me greatly recently, though, was this blogpost about a Silent Quaker Meeting that wasn’t silent. Because there was an autistic child experiencing silent worship for the first time and it was not a wholly comfortable experience for him. He spoke loudly and was somewhat belligerent. While I cringed just a wee bit at the spectacle aspect of this story, the author does a fine job of illustrating the difference between silence and silent worship. IMO, silent worship does not mean that there is an absence of sound (and anyone who’s worshiped in our downtown Santa Ana Meetinghouse can attest to the fact that street noises don’t preclude Silent Worship).

A quote from the article, explaining what occurred after the close of the not-Silent Meeting:

Friends greeted the mother and the boy. The mother attempted to apologize. No one was having any of that. We knew that we had experience a first rate Quaker meeting. We know that the purpose of meeting is not to escape from the world to a place quiet enough to listen, but to learn to listen well enough that we can listen anywhere, under any conditions. It had been a good and rewarding morning’s practicum. We were grateful. There was not a single kvetcher, not a single grumbler, not then, not later.

One of those present was a new attender, a new Christian, a new Quaker. She is a transgendered woman. She has lots of tattoos. She was checking us out, watchful. She had been burned by church people. She walked up to me after meeting and said “Well, hmm. I guess you really mean it. I guess everyone really is welcome, wow. Walking the talk, hmm.”

God told the psalmist, Be still and know that I am God. Quakers like that verse. Many think the stillness referred to means silence. It does not. The Hebrew verb means to relax, let go, stop trying so hard, release. In order to see God, you have to stop striving, stop relying on your own strength. You have to give up your notions of how things should be. You have to let go of preferences and pet peeves. You have to open yourself up to the uncomfortable.

Then God shows up.

Because I loved this post so very much and I wanted to share it with each of you, I intended to blog about it today. Perhaps it was just coincidence that I received an email message from my LDS ward this morning that illustrated the contrast between the Quaker approach to worship and the Mormon way. My ward’s bishopric sent out a notice to each of the ward members encouraging them to follow the guidelines for reverence set forth in this article by Orson Scott Card (a well-known SF writer and active Mormon). In this piece Card offers a list of simple rules to enforce obedience and reverence in children. He says that when a young child begins to be loud or unruly, their parent must remove them from the meeting immediately and physically confine them in their arms. Some of his instructions:

1) Hold the child firmly in your arms (but not so tightly as to hurt).
2) Hold him in front of you so that he is looking into your eyes. Don’t hold him at your shoulder, like a burping baby, or he’ll kick you mercilessly. And never hold him on your lap so he is looking away from you, toward all the pleasing distractions of the foyer.
3)His arms must not be free, and any limbs that he is flailing about must be made immobile. It is essential that you achieve this through persistence, not through pain. That is, don’t grip him so tightly that he stops struggling because it hurts. Rather grip him firmly enough that he can’t get his limbs free, but whenever he stops struggling there is no pain or even discomfort. In fact, when he isn’t struggling, he finds that he is merely being held close to the warm body of his loving parent.

Card also adds details of what the parents are to say to the child and then how to reward them for subsequent reverent behavior. He states that he has “never seen this fail” to produce the desired behavior modification in children and asserts

If all parents would establish clear rules for their children, and, by persuasion and longsuffering, labor to bring them into compliance with good rules of behavior, not only would our [church] meetings no longer sound like zoos, but within a generation our foyers would be empty because everyone would be in the meeting.

Our children and each new generation of adults, blessed with skills of self-control learned young, would find themselves living in a world that was more civilized because Mormon parents, at least, were no longer raising barbarian children.

Am I the only one who found his rhetoric a bit over the top? Sigh….[and to be honest, I suspect that the din on my ward is much more a product of an overly-large ward that needs to be split and not necessarily about unruly children…]

So John and I have amazingly well-behaved kids. Though I am reticent to take any credit for their goodness, I believe that a large measure of their ability to act appropriately–even in long boring meetings–comes from tolerance and respect. Not merely from learning to respect others, but from being tolerated and respected themselves. We have not tried to “break” the will of our children. Rather, we’ve relished each stage of their development and understood that it’s not appropriate to expect the same behavior of a 3 year-old that you expect from a 13 or a 30 year-old. Likewise, we have regarded our kids’ opinions and ideas highly and have tried to hear their frustrations rather than assert our own expectations on them.

And, honestly, I suspect that if Jesus were to visit my ward’s sacrament meeting, he wouldn’t be sitting on the stand and wishing for parents to more dutifully restrain their young ones.
Rather, I imagine him in his role as a mother hen (see Matthew 23:7), calling his children to himself, enfolding them in his arms and letting each of them know that they are loved, just as they are. And explaining that he instilled children with a sense of wonder and curiosity and strong voices. That these are divine gifts. And that these little ones have much to teach us.

Especially those of us who have forgotten what it means to ‘become as a little child’:

1 At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?
2 And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them,
3 And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
4 Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
5 And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me. (KJV Matthew 18:1-4)

Motherhood, housework, and who irons the clothes?

There’s been a furor in the Mormon blogworld about the leader of Mormon women, President Beck, and her speech this weekend about Motherhood. She said such things as:

“Mothers who know” are nurturers. This is their special assignment and role in the plan of happiness. To nurture means to cultivate, care for, and make grow. Therefore, mothers who know create a climate for spiritual and temporal growth in their homes. Another word for nurturing is homemaking. Homemaking includes cooking, washing clothes, and dishes and keeping an orderly home. Home is where women have the most power and influence. Therefore, Latter-day Saint women should be the best homemakers in the world.

She adds: I have visited sacrament meetings in some of the poorest places on the earth, where mothers have dressed with great care in their Sunday best, despite walking for miles on dusty streets and using worn out public transportation. They bring daughters in clean and ironed dresses. Their sons where white shirts and ties and have missionary haircuts. [Cultural note: missionary haircuts are short ‘dos for men where the hair is above the ears and above their shirt collar. There is a cultural norm for boys/men to wear white shirts each Sunday for church and for girls/women to wear their best dresses. Mormon mothers who don’t enforce such dress rules for their children are sometimes maligned by church leaders…]

Wow, this was hard for many women to hear. To equate mothering with housekeeping seems an antiquated notion anyways. I’m also sad to hear her say that women’s power and influence is limited to a domestic sphere. And to call on LDS women to be the best homemakers in the world seems a shallow goal in the midst of so many ways that LDS women could make an impact on the world.

She said later in her speech:

“Mothers who know” do less. They permit less of what will not bear good fruit eternally. They allow less media in their homes, less distraction, less activity that draws their children away from their home. Mothers who know are willing to live on less and consume less of the world’s goods in order to spend more time with their children, more time eating together, more time working together, more time reading together, more time laughing, talking, singing, and exemplifying.

On this, I am on the same page with her in many respects. I think it is important for _everyone_ to carefully guard against too much busy-ness. It pains me that so many of us are too busy for relaxation, eating meals together, or for an evening stroll. Simplicity is an important goal, and perhaps our biggest challenge as 21st century Americans–especially those of us who live in urban and suburban regions of the country.

As I read through Pres Beck’s talk I thought back on my own mother. She gave birth to 5 children in a seven year span of time. About midway through her childbearing years, our family moved out of state–hundreds of miles away from all extended family members–and she had to care for her own growing family while my Dad traveled extensively with his job, sometimes he was gone three weeks/month. She had a large home to care for (4 or 5 bedrooms) and we moved every 5 years or so. Mom was called to lead the regional LDS women’s organization that covered parts of three states–meaning that she was frequently on the road traveling to distant church branches and leading meetings. During all that time she kept her teaching credential active in each state where we lived, often taking night classes or taking re-certification exams. By the time her youngest child was in the upper-grades of elementary school, she worked full-time as a teacher and was earning her master’s degree.

My Mom was an awesome mother in so many ways. Yes, she was busy. Yes, her health suffered at times from stress-related ailments. But she raised a great crew of kids. Um, and she wasn’t always the best homemaker. I don’t mean that as any kind of slight AT ALL. The house was rarely ‘messy.’ She had hearty meals on the table every night of the week. We had clean clothes to wear (sometimes even home-sewn clothes, because Mom is a great seamstress). But she hired a housecleaner to help fill in the gap. And later a gardener and a pool-cleaner, too. She taught us to do our own laundry as soon as we were in Jr High. We also made our own lunches and after school snacks and occasionally cooked dinner for the family.

And probably the most important part of this story is that when my Dad died after a rather aggressive bout with cancer, Mom had a good job (two of them, actually, because she was a school administrator by day and a college professor by night at that point). She had taught us all great life skills, too–we can each sew, clean, cook, budget, etc. Though all of us kids are creative types of people that sometimes find writing a story more important than scrubbing the bathtub, I think we all turned out well (we’ve all been gainfully employed, three of us have graduate degrees, etc).

I guess the upshot is, if Mom had stayed home and had only been a remarkable homemaker, well I don’t know that things would’ve turned out quite so well for her or for us. Of course everyone’s situation is different, which is why I’m dismayed to see a one-size-fits-all approach to motherhood that’s portrayed by Pres. Beck. IMO, parenthood has so little to do with how clean your house is and _everything_ to do with how you nurture, care, and respect for the children in your life, as well as making sure that you do all you can to teach them self-reliance and to provide for them financially.

queries

In our Quaker Meeting, on the first Sunday of each month, the clerk reads the “Advice and Query” for the month to give us something to reflect on as a group. There is also extra time given to speaking about the queries after the regular time allotted to Meeting for Worship.

This is the Advice & Queries that were read in our Meeting today and in other Meetings throughout the region encompassed by the Pacific Yearly Meeting:

Personal Relationships

Advice

In daily relationships with others, both inside and outside the home, our lives as Friends speak immediately and lastingly. In these relationships, our faith may also be severely tested. We are called to respond to that of God in everyone: we are all children of God. Friends celebrate any union that is dedicated to mutual love and respect, regardless of the unique make-up of the family. We strive to create homes where the Spirit of the Divine resides at the center and where the individual genius of each member is respected and nurtured.

Human sexuality is a divine gift, forming part of the complex union of body, mind and spirit that is our humanity. In a loving adult relationship in a context of mutual responsibility, sexuality brings delight, fulfillment and celebration.

The presence of children carries a special blessing as well as responsibility. Children bring unique spiritual gifts — wonder, resiliency, playfulness and more. Recognize and honor the Divine Light within children and treat them with the dignity and respect that is due to all people. Listen to and learn from children; share with them those values and practices that are central to our own lives. Special care must be given to resolving problems between adults and children in a manner that gives equal weight to the feelings and needs of both children and adults. Tender parenting is one of the critically important peace vocations in our society.Make every effort to offer all parents the personal and institutional support that this challenging work requires.

Take a strong stand against any form of abuse, whether that abuse is minor or severe, and whether it is emotional, physical or sexual in nature. The terrible impact of abuse on the most vulnerable members of our families creates lifelong suffering for its victims and is a major source of violence in our society. Perpetrators are themselves usually victims of similar violence and should be approached with compassion as well as firmness.

Queries

Do I make my home a place of friendliness, joy, and peace, where residents and visitors feel God’s presence?

Are my sexual practices consistent with my spiritual beliefs and free of manipulation and exploitation?

What barriers keep me from responding openly and lovingly to each person?

Do we open our thoughts, beliefs, and deep understandings to our children and others who share our lives and our hospitality?

Do we provide our children and young adults with a framework for active, ongoing participation in the Meeting?

[Note: the latter two queries refer to the Meeting as a whole, whereas the others are meant to apply to each individual in the Meeting]

I find that these queries offer a contrast between my experience as a Quaker and my experience as a Latter-day Saint. As a Mormon you are annually (or every other year) asked a list of questions in a one-on-one interview between you and your (male) bishop where you discuss your sexuality and any occasion of abuse within your family. As a Quaker you are offered the queries as a guide for personal reflection and you may share your thoughts with the group as you feel led to do so. Much could be said about the differences between the two systems, but I feel hesitant to comment much more on that right now.

When I first heard this query (last month in October, I believe), my heart leapt when I heard the words “In a loving adult relationship in a context of mutual responsibility, sexuality brings delight, fulfillment and celebration.” Yes, my heart said. That is right. Delight. Fulfillment. Celebration. And I added in my mind: Joy.

because of my weakness…

The acknowledgment of our weakness
is the first step in repairing our loss.
~Thomas Kempis

While I was at the Sunstone Symposium in August, sitting in a session about women and the Mormon church, I had to fight the urge to flee the room.

In sitting there I realized that the rationales, the angst, and the pain of gender inequity–those were the things that I’d been so relieved to leave behind when I stopped attending LDS church. Being confronted with them again was repulsive and pulled me back to that dark place where I’d been a few years ago: a sort of dark cave where I felt stranded. Where I couldn’t see how god could bless an institution that was so biased, so short-sighted. And at the same time afraid of the pain that would come to me and to my extended family should I choose to walk away.

As these thoughts ran through my mind I felt a pendulum of emotion shifting to and fro inside of me and I was on the verge of tears. And then I realized something about myself…I’m just not one of the “strong ones” who can continue on in the LDS church while being fully aware all of its flaws. My soul and my spirit just aren’t up for the task. I am too weak. Too fragile. I need a spiritual home where I am buoyed and supported and affirmed. The dissonance of being Mormon was literally ripping my spirit into pieces. I felt no hope there.

For me, the move to practicing as a Quaker is not just transferring my allegiance to a new religious institution. It’s about adopting a spiritual practice and community based on the yearnings of my heart and not based on my pedigree and my upbringing. It’s a choice for comfort and peace. It’s laying down the struggle of trying to fit into the LDS mold–the continued abrasiveness of being a square peg that can’t adapt to the expectations and orthodoxies of Mormonism. It’s about recognizing my own weakness and accepting it.

The Mormon founder, Joseph Smith, compared his spiritual journey to that of a rough stone rolling down a mountain. He saw each of his experiences as chipping away at himself, smoothing away his raw edges. Me, I’m not up for a similar trajectory, or perhaps my body has just had enough trauma. I’m seeking an angle of repose.

Let me quote from a favorite author who has walked a similar path:

Spirituality is solitary…At times, it is lonely, often informed by pain. On other occasions, it is the body submerged in a phosphorescent tide, every movement sparking a trail of illumination. Afterwards, we sit on the shore in moonlight. No candles are necessary. Spirituality exists when we are present, buoyed up by the waters of attention. We learn the courage of faith. It is peace that is earned. We can take solace in the heat of doubt knowing this is the pulse of poetry.
~Terry Tempest Williams, Leap (2000)

oh my heck…

My kids can sing all the words to this Mormon commercial despite the fact that they’ve never seen it themselves. John and I have sung it to them many, many times. Weird, eh?