Category Archives: LDS

Who’s Gonna Teach Us to Tango?: A Discussion of Claudia Bushman’s MormonStories Interview


Mormon Stories # 058: Women and the LDS Church Part 4 — 19th and Early 20th Century Mormon Women

Mormon Stories # 059: Women and the LDS Church Part 5 — 19th and Early 20th Century Mormon Women Part 2

Claudia Bushman shares more of her insights in this two-part series detailing the lives and experiences of Mormon women in the 19th and early 20th century. Dr. Bushman speaks of ten women who have taken the time to record their life experiences, and as she paraphrases and quotes from each woman’s story, Claudia adds contextual details to show why these stories are all significant. Here’s a list of the featured women:

Part I

1) Lucy Mack Smith, whose story gives great insight into the early life of the church and of the prophet Joseph Smith. Lucy, Joseph’s mother, mixes significant historical happenings with the mundane and comical experiences of daily life. Claudia notes that those who want to read Lucy’s words should seek out a copy of Lavina Fielding Anderson’s most recent edition, Lucy’s Book, as previous editions were often heavily edited to purge out some elements of the story (she adds that the editing was sometimes done in such a way that it vilified Emma, Joseph’s first wife, and Lucy because they chose not to travel West with the Saints).
2) Emma Smith’s blessing just after Joseph went to Carthage Jail, which can be found reprinted in Mormon Enigma. Claudia explains that when Joseph was leaving for Carthage, Emma asked for a blessing at his hand. He suggested that she write out her own blessing and he would sign it when he returned home. Joseph was killed by a mob while in the Jail, so the blessing was never signed. But it does offer great insight into the feelings of Emma towards her husband.
3) Charlotte Hafen, a Gentile wrote in 1843 about attending a party at Sidney Rigdon’s house in Nauvoo. We discover that this 9-hour long party included the tying of 5 quilts, an extensive meal, singing songs, and an original dance that started with marching and ended with kissing(!).
4) Mary Isabella Horne writing about the challenges of living in the Salt Lake Valley during the early years—living in a sod house and having to carry an umbrella indoors because of the mud coming down from the ceiling.
5) Ellis Reynolds Shipp: plural wife, mother of several children, and medical doctor. She went to medical school in the East despite a lack of enthusiasm about this career path from her husband. Ellis became pregnant while home for the summer after her first year in med school and returned to school anyways, giving birth just after her exams. Claudia speaks about the many Mormon career women in the Utah period, adding that there were more women doctors in the Utah region than anywhere else in the US.

Part II

6) Elizabeth Caine (wife of a friend of the Mormons, Thomas Caine), writes as she travels by wagon from Salt Lake to St George and describes the homes that she visits along the way. She found polygamy repulsive, especially when she saw on older man “going down the generations to his grandchildren’s time to seek a new partner…while she who shared the joys and sorrows of his youth looks on, old and grey.”
7) Claudia’s grandmother, Elizabeth Shupe Gordon (1866-1896) gives an inspiring account of her conversion to the church, speaking of burning “electric thrills” that she felt each time she read from the Book of Mormon.
8) Alice Louise Reynolds: Prof of English & Religion at BYU. She was such a friend to everyone that a group of women decided to organize an Alice Louise Reynolds Club, and there were 15 chapters of this club in the 50s. Never married, she spent her sabbaticals teaching at other universities and traveling. Amy Brown Lyman became her biographer, bio was published by ALR Clubs.
9) The Newberry-award winning author Virginia Sorensen.[Note: she mentions Sorensen elsewhere in the podcast and doesn’t discuss her much at this point]. Those who want to learn more about Mormon life in the early 20th century would enjoy reading Where Nothing is Long Ago, a collection of short stories by Sorensen.
10) Historian Juanita Brooks was this very powerful intellectual who lived a fairly traditional life. Claudia retells a humorous incident from Juanita’s childhood and then discusses her work as a historian: she would always kept the ironing board up and had a basket of dampened clothes near her desk and when someone came by she’d start ironing so they’d never know that she was really writing [note: this reminds me of the stories I’ve read of Jane Austen hiding her writing under her needlework]. Brooks would travel on overnight buses to do research in Salt Lake or at the Huntington Library.

The discussion ends with interviewer John Dehlin asking Claudia some general questions about women and religion. Some interesting points in this section occur when Claudia decries those that leave the church. She says,

“Leaving the church is not any kind of an answer to a better life. That’s just like leaving something good for outer darkness. It’s just better to stick with the church and try and make something out of it.”

Yet she also discusses how much the church has changed since she was younger, explaining that her grandchildren have told her that they’ve “never had a happy experience at church.” Claudia says that her childhood and teen years in the church were joyful and happy and that the “block” scheduling has destroyed much of the fun. “Who’s gonna teach us to tango now?” she asks as she reminisces about the tango dancing lesson she had annually in her ward.

Claudia encourages women to make their own way in the church, organizing projects and special interest groups. She says that those who are miserable in the church should write about their disaffection, leaving their thoughts for future generations. As she says at the beginning of Part I:

“It’s the people who write, who last. If any woman out there has any inclination to to remembered in the future, the next few generations, she’d just better get busy and write out her story, her experiences.”

Some questions for those of you who listen to the podcast:

1) Which the women she profiled were new to you? Which of their writings/stories did you find most compelling?

2) How do you express your feelings about the church? Do you write them down? Do you expect or hope that someday someone (a Mormon historian, perhaps) will be using your words to tell about the condition of women in the church in the 21st century? Do you see blogs as an accurate recording of the lives of contemporary LDS women?

3) If you could organize a special project or interest group in your ward, what would it be? Would you want to learn to tango? 🙂

Note: the photo above is of Alice Louise Reynolds.

plug

Allright, so the second book with a chapter by moi is in print now. Never mind that its Sales Rank is #2,116,676. My previous book is selling much better (rank #433,808). FWIW, both books have the very same interview with author Terry Tempest Williams.

One of these days I need to get something else published. 🙂

For those of you who haven’t yet read this particular interview, here’s an excerpt that you might enjoy…

Jana: Some theorists have suggested that the body is perhaps a better source of language and understanding than the mind. What do you think about these ideas and how do you think an LDS writer could use them to overcome something like the use of religious cliches or institutional thinking?

Terry: The body does not lie. Therefore, if we write out of the body, we are writing out of the truth of our lives. This creates a language that is organic and whole. Original. We listen to what is coursing through our veins, what is held within our hearts, what is registered in our bones. Call it cellular knowledge. Something akin to instinct. It is here, perhaps, were we write muscular prose that lifts our ideas to both a higher and deeper place where the full range of our intelligence can be found.
If we are simply writing out of our heads, there is no weight to our words. They become abstractions that dissipate into the air. This is the realm of rhetoric. The body is the realm of the story. And it is in story that we bypass rhetoric and pierce the heart. We feel it first and understand it later. Memory resides in the body. Memorization resides in the mind.
I think we fall into religious cliches when we become afraid of the deep reflective work that organic writing requires. Cliches follow answers and almost always leads us to sentimentality. Nothing surprises or delights. Original prose that breathes and bleeds follows the questions, the mysteries, the place where we dare to say I don’t know where I am going on the page. It is the place of discovery and revelation. This is where we can begin to trust the body. The body carries the physical reality of our spirits like a river. Institutional thinking is fearful of rivers because rivers inevitably follow their own path and that channel may change from day to day, even though the muscle of the river, the property of water remains consistent, life sustaining, fierce and compassionate, at once.
To write out of the body is to write ourselves into a freedom. It is here we can let go of fear and trust the joy that is held in each movement of the hand, word by word by word.

When I found I was naked….

When I was a young Mormon teen, we had a special speaker for a Youth Conference about ‘morality.’* This speaker told us that at the Judgment Day everyone would have perfect knowledge of everything we’d done in our lives. He explained that there would be a ginormous movie screen on the top of Pike’s Peak (the tallest mountain in the vicinity) that would replay our lives for _everyone._ And, as this speaker explained, the only way that parts of the movie could be ‘edited’ was through repentance—those sins would then be cut from the reel of our life story as if we’d never done them. The speaker reinforced this notion repeatedly throughout his talk decrying various sexual indiscretions, explaining that “It’ll be in your movie” and everyone will know what you’ve done if you don’t repent. Following the conference the theme was reinforced in numerous ways by our church leaders. The refrain “It’ll be in your movie” was repeated in church venues for months afterwards.

Another Mormon teaching that was influential in my teen years was the understanding that the Spirit World was actually in our own world, except that spirits (meaning the souls of those who were unborn or deceased) couldn’t be seen by us mortals (as if they existed in a separate dimension or plane). I was taught that my grandparents and other ancestors were always nearby, watching my every move. Many stories that were given over the pulpit spoke of the subtle influences that these spirits could have in our lives—like the proverbial angels/devils sitting on our shoulders and swaying us for good or ill. And example: when I won a regional spelling bee, family members reminded me that my grandma was an excellent speller and probably had exerted some of her spelling acumen (by whispering in my ear?) to influence my victory. I was also frequently reminded by church leaders that my ancestors were aiding me in my efforts to keep myself ‘pure’ and ‘chaste’ and prepared for an appropriate temple marriage. But there were also stories about the evil spirits (those who chose to follow Satan instead of receiving physical bodies). I was told that evil spirits could pollute the temple by accompanying the ‘unworthy’ members into its holy edifice (because only the unworthy who entered the temple could ‘rupture’ the super-protective spiritual force field that generally kept evil at bay). Church lessons reinforced the notion that evil spirits also had all of the temptations of the flesh and would try to smoke ‘real’ cigarettes or attempt sexual liaisons with those of us who have bodies.

Both the belief that my life would be broadcast as a movie to everyone and the belief that my ancestors were watching my every move really freaked me out as I was growing up. I can’t tell you the number of times that I farted or picked my nose or did something quite ungraceful as I was sitting on the porcelain throne that I agonized over the fact that my friends, church leaders, and even my grandpa (not to mention all of Satan’s minions) knew (or would eventually know) that my body was so disgusting. I can remember real angst over the fact that I ‘knew’ these folks were with me even in my most private moments—in the shower, on the toilet, etc. I tried, even when alone in the bathroom, to keep my body as covered as possible, to reduce the washing of my genitals to a quick and efficient motion, to crouching as I sat on the toilet to ensure that the bulk of my body was covered (note: it was also during these years—at Girl’s Camp, I think—that I heard about a sicko pervert guy who took photos from underneath the lids in wooden privies. As a result, in my mind I imagined that Satan’s spirits could see my body from all angles and even trying to cover myself wasn’t adequate to evade their gaze). An example of the difficulties that this caused: when I was in my mid-teens I developed a vaginal yeast infection. I was so mortified by the discomfort ‘down there’ that it was _weeks_ (if not months) before I even examined what was going on. On my own body. That was so sore I could barely sit at my desk in school. And it was weeks even after that I sought help for my problem. Because I didn’t want grandma and everyone else to see that “in my movie.” [And I’ll save the story of the pelvic exam trauma for another day (note: thank Goddess for the fact that Monistat is OTC now.)]

I did consider the fact that maybe there was some sort of protective bubble around bathroom-type activities and that God would not let spirits access to that part of our lives. I also thought perhaps there would be a similar fuzzing or blotting of those moments from my life movie, but that thought contained too many holes for it to really seem ‘logical.’ I realized that by the time we watching _everyone’s_ Pike’s Peak movie we would undoubtedly no longer be shocked by nakedness or defecation. But that knowledge didn’t make it any easier on me as I imagined my total humiliation at my friends’ and loved ones’ viewing of my private moments.

Besides the crazy behavior that resulted from the worries that I noted above, I also found myself frequently confessing minor sins to my Bishop in order to ‘erase’ them from my movie (note: unlike in Catholicism where confession is routinized, in Mormonism confession to Bishops is generally reserved for BIG sins like adultery and coffee-drinking). I felt I had to do this because I couldn’t bear the humiliation of having my misdeeds broadcast to everyone that loved me. (Poor bishops, I think I annoyed more than a few of them with my frequent heart-wrenching confessions about trivial matters.)

All of these concerns and fears about exposure came to a head one day when I was in LA with my father because of some medical appointments. He’d taken the day off of work to drive me down and we’d already spent the morning at the clinic. We ate lunch together at the Bagel Nosh (our favorite!) and then headed towards the temple grounds on Santa Monica Blvd. As was typical for these types of days, Dad went into the temple for an endowment session while I waited in the surrounding gardens and the Visitor’s Center. Well, you can well imagine that I enjoyed wandering around among the fountains and flowers on the temple grounds. At some point in the two hour span that my father was in the temple I headed into the Visitor’s Center restroom. Certainly I thought nothing of the fact that I was mostly alone in the building as there are few people on the temple grounds in the middle of the week in the middle of day. And I’m sure I was wrapped up in thinking about the temple (and my own dreams to be married there someday), my medical appointments that morning, and whatever else preoccupies the mind of a mid-teen. So when I was sitting on the toilet in the very pink & pretty women’s restroom you can just imagine my shock and horror and total confusion when I happened to glance upwards and saw a male face looking down at me.

Perhaps I had a moment to wonder if it was a godly visage that I saw—certainly the middle-aged bearded man might not look too much different from those who walked the roads of Judea. But a more studied glance saw his soiled bandanna and unkempt hair and realized that I was alone and in a completely vulnerable position. And my freaky beliefs about being ‘watched’ undoubtedly contributed to the way that time just froze. Stopped. Dead still. In that horribly long moment of sheer fear.

I have no sense of how long it took me to get out of that stall and out of that bathroom. I vaguely remember the awful feeling of wanting very much to wash my hands. Of feeling totally dirty. And knowing that there was no time for soap and water. And of the moment as I looked into the mirror over the sinks and saw the door open to the stall next to where I had been. And that man standing there with his pants down, exposing himself.

So perhaps you might say that it is just a really horrible coincidence that I had this experience on the Mormon temple grounds. In the place that is supposedly the most protected and holy space on earth (though to get nitpicky I was only *near* the temple and not exactly inside of it). At that time and even now I don’t give too much purpose or weight to the experience in the sense that that I don’t think that god orchestrated it for my punishment or to instill fear into me. But it added to the freaky aura of always being watched that was already brewing inside of me from my church lessons. And made it much, much harder for me to believe that my body wasn’t awful and nasty and dirty—something to be ashamed of and to hide. And I still always have this nagging feeling that I am being watched. Even in my most private moments I get these sense that I am never alone (and I don’t mean in the feel-good Michael McLean way). I mean in the way that I don’t feel I ever have privacy or the security of being safe from the gaze of unseen strangers.

John’s recently posted a piece of satire on his blog that critiques god’s supposed omniscience. While the ‘taste’ and style of expression might be debatable, it is the sentiment that’s behind the image that rings true–because Mormon doctrine reinforces the belief that god and spirits and ancestors are continually hovering around. John knows of the heavy weight I’ve born for many years because of my fears—-he learned this in a big way the first (and last) time he thought it might be funny to jump out and scare me in the dark. He knows that sometimes I still get completely freaked out by creepy bathrooms and dim corners and things that go bump on the night. He knows that the specters of spirits (both benign and malignant) linger in my still-Mormon ‘sixth sense’ even when my rational mind disbelieves that they exist.

*Note: in Mormonspeak, “morality=sexual purity/sexual abstinence”
PS: The title of this post comes from some wording in the LDS temple ceremony. It occurs at a moment where Adam & Eve are discussing their nakedness with god. This is yet another way that Mormonism ritually reinforces some of the ideas that were so influential on me as a teen.

You call that a religion?

Recently I sat down with a dozen or so of my LDS friends and spoke with them about my desire to affiliate with Quakerism. I talked about my deconversion from Mormonism and the joys I feel when worshiping with Friends. As I spoke about Quaker beliefs, practices, and values, one of my friends questioned whether The Religious Society of Friends could really be labeled a ‘religion’ because it doesn’t have any concrete beliefs about the afterlife.

I found this post from Friend Heather to be a nice response to the question of whether Quakerism is a religion. I particularly like these paragraphs:

I don’t worry too much about whether others call what we do a religion. What does the name matter? If we earnestly try to turn our hearts to God, to sit together in waiting worship, and to follow the promptings of the Light revealed to us, then it doesn’t matter what we’re called.

I thought of the many other times and places where I feel the sense of worship: around trees, in meditation, at concerts, in acts of service, walking, dancing, in the presence of the ocean, listening to a child, making love with my husband, experiencing sudden natural beauty, doing mundane chores, knitting, sharing a cup of tea with a friend. I am reminded that it’s all sacred, that God is everywhere, and that all I need to do is open my heart and be where I am, right now.

What do you think? Do names matter? I suspect that most LDS would say that they do. Mormons hold the belief that the name of their church was divinely revealed and that each word in its name has significance. I’m not sure that Quakers give such importance to such words. I do know that they call themselves a ‘religious society’ rather than a ‘religion’ to distance themselves from the hierarchical trappings of most religions (and certainly those contemporary to the founding of Quakerism).

I’ve discussed before how labels matter to me because they are about creating self-identity. But I’m not sure if it’s important to me whether Quakerism is a ‘religion’ per se. It just feels right to me and for me. And perhaps that’s all that matters?

meeting

Our family was in the elevator going up to the third floor to visit my Great Aunt Madge. She lived in the same downtown Salt Lake City apartment building as many members of the LDS church’s leaders. On this particular day when the doors opened on Madge’s floor we found ourselves face-to-face with Elder Faust, a favorite member of the three-man triumvirate that sits just below the Prophet of the church.

So when we met up with Elder Faust we greeted him warmly, reaching out our hands for his hearty handshake. John, perhaps carried away a bit with the thrill of meeting a revered leader (for those of you not LDS, it would be akin to running into the Dalai Lama or Pope Benedict–ok, maybe just slightly less well-known). Anyways, so John had a mild slip o’ the tongue when he addressed Elder Faust, saying:

“So good to see you Dr. Faustus.”

Can I just say that I almost peed my pants right then and there. I wanted to laugh, but I knew I couldn’t. I had this sense that Elder Faust didn’t hear exactly what John said so I didn’t dare acknowledge it. So I did a lot of dry-coughing and throat-clearing as we stepped away from Elder Faust and the elevator doors closed behind us.

[Note: As John and I are reviewing this story just now, he’s insisting that he said “Dr. Faust” and not “Faustus.” Yah. right.]

And nothing shall offend them…

Through a link from mormonstories I came across this article in an LDS publication. The author of the article contends that many people who leave the Mormon church do so because they’ve been offended by another member or by a church leader.

I just wanted to take a moment to affirm that I did NOT cease my activity in the LDS Church because I was offended by any particular leader or by any particular incident/interaction with a church member. My change of heart is due to fundamental disagreement with LDS doctrines, practices, and culture.

Okay, just had to get that off my chest, as some have suggested (including my own leaders) that I left because an offense. Which is simply not the case. If anything, it was my fondness for the people of the church that made it difficult to stop participating. And it is my continued support of my LDS friends that leads me to sporadically attend Mormon-sponsored events.

Whenever I touch a velvet rose


peace, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Picture: a rose with yellow petals, tinged with pink and red at the edges.

“My Heavenly Father Loves Me” was my all-time favorite Primary song when I was a little girl. One reason I loved it was because each time we sang it Miss Tammy would choose a handful of kids to hold pictures representing the images of the song: a bird, a rain shower, etc. and I would raise my hand high, hoping to be one of the children chosen to for the special job of holding a picture while we sang.

It seems fitting to me that even now when I contemplate the song of a bird or the breeze rustling through the trees I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the beauty of the world and I feel closer to the divine.

Whenever I hear, the song of a bird
Or look at the blue, blue sky
Whenever I feel the rain on my face
Or the wind as it rushes by
Whenever I touch a velvet rose
Or walk by a lilac tree
I’m glad that I live in this beautiful world
Heavenly Father created for me.

Another Mo leaves the fold…

This article ran in the Daily Herald today. It seems to be Richard Dutcher‘s farewell to the LDS church. Dutcher is the dynamic and visionary “father” of Mormon cinema. A part of me is shocked by his leaving the church. Another part of me isn’t at all surprised:

Mormon doctrines are powerful and beautiful and have given great meaning to my life for more than 30 years. I’m sure they will always continue to inform not only my future work as a filmmaker, but also my private spiritual journey. But it does not appear that it will be my honor to make some of these films that the LDS community so desperately needs.

As many of you know, I am no longer a practicing member of the church. The private answers to the questions I have asked in my prayers, and in my films, have led me on an unexpected journey, a spiritual path which may ultimately prove incompatible with Mormon orthodoxy. This understanding has brought me some of the most profound surprises and also the deepest sadness of my life. It is very hard for me to say goodbye to something that I love.

Who knows? Maybe, like Oliver Cowdery (to whom I’ve always felt an uncommon kinship), my travels will someday lead back to Mormonism and to this effort. Such an end would be beautiful and, in a strange way, an answer to my prayers. But I don’t know. One fundamental thing I have learned over the past few years is a genuine humility regarding my spiritual beliefs.

I know that some of you will not understand my decisions. Please know that I will always be not only a great friend to the Mormon community, but also one of its strongest defenders.

My brothers and sisters, I respectfully leave Mormon cinema in your capable — and now seasoned — hands. I hope that someday I will hear a few of your names mentioned in the company of the handful of filmmakers who have dared to explore human spirituality in film: Bergman, Bresson, Tarkovsky, Dreyer, Ozu, etc. One of my greatest hopes, of course (in true competitive spirit), is that one day my name will be at the very top of that list.

May God bless you in your individual and collective efforts. And may Mormon cinema one day achieve its powerful and beautiful potential. May it be “the praise and glory of the whole earth.”

mormon-ness?

There’s something that’s been bugging me. I’ve been hesitant to blog about it because I want to think I don’t care. But I do.

So, I’ve written before about whether or not I’m an ‘active’ Mormon. Over time I’m certainly becoming less insistent on calling myself active. I don’t think of myself or label myself in that way anymore, really. Am I active in Mormon studies, in thinking about Mormon issues? Yes. Am I active in the LDS church? No.

But what really bugs me are these people in the bloggernacle (the Mormon blogosphere) who, whenever I write something, make these comments about how I’m not Mormon anymore. That’s just not true. My name is still on the church rolls, and I still have a Home and a Visiting Teacher.

I don’t know why it bothers me that they do this. I guess it’s because I’m all about getting to define myself the way that I want to. It’s like this discussion I had with some Friends on Sunday–one is a Hindu Quaker. She was asking me why I can’t be both Mormon and Quaker. I was trying to explain to her how hard that is–that there are all kinds of ways that Mormon-ness is ‘policed.’ Yet the more I thought about it, I realized that if these same people in the Bloggernacle were, say, assigned to home teach an ‘inactive’ or less active Mormon, I doubt they would show up on their doorstep and say, “Hey, you’re not Mormon anymore” or any such thing. So why is it that people will say this to me online? And why do total strangers care so much about my church membership anyways? How is it that they can know how ‘Mormon’ I am without even asking me personally (or w/o speaking to my bishop)?

The Church counts its membership in terms of how many people are listed in the records. I’m still there. I’m still being counted. And that’s important to me.

And I’m also on the roster of my Quaker Meeting. And that’s important to me, too.