A Hunger and a Thirst

This is a difficult topic to discuss, because it's offensive. I guarantee that someone is going to claim that what I'm saying is Pharisaical, that I'm saying I'm more righteous than they are. But I'm not. I have some very definite sins that I'm struggling with which keep me separated from God.

But despite this, an observation has been weighing on my mind. This is my attempt to explore what I'm feeling by intuition and try to ferret out the logical reasons why I'm so bothered.

I've been participating in various online LDS communities on and off for over 15 years. When I first started, I noticed that many people online resented the various rules we were given. Whether it was a rule as silly and simple as wearing white shirts to pass the sacrament, or as serious and grounded in doctrine as eternal marriage being only between a husband and wife, nothing has escaped the criticism of the self-selected Mormon intelligentsia.

For many years, I thought it was a bias. Those who struggle with feeling that the church is restrictive, and that the leadership are closed to change naturally look for a safe space to air their grievances, which the internet naturally provides in vast and varied venues.

But over the past several years, I've seen these paradigms spread and grow in the average Mormon community. This drive to fight against rules is a natural one. And sometimes those rules should be opposed. That's what makes this so difficult to discuss. It's 90% good mixed with 10% danger, and speaking against the 10% offends people, who then deflect your concerns to the 90% and claim thereby that you are wrong.

And my thoughts on this topic are by no means complete or fully formed. So let's start with what I know.

Why the CES Letter is Utterly Irrelevant

Conscience, Judas, by Nikolai Ge

This morning as we were getting ready for work, I brought up the recent CES Letter excommunication of Jeremy Runnells with my kids. As I was talking to them in under-10-years-old terms about some of the biggest big-ticket items, the reaction of the antiMormon world, and the reaction of the Mormon Apologetics world, my mind started thinking about a friend of mine who is thinking about investigating the Church.

I've not been the best representative of the Church to him. My testimony is more of the "lots of things are really hard about this Church, but God wants me here, it is led by Him, and I believe it," type, less of the "It's true! Everything is awesome!!!" type.

Despite allegations from disaffected and ex-Mormons, I think most of the Church is along those lines. I've not met many people who are of the "believe at all costs" types. Most of us, especially converts, believe because we have received personal confirmation from God. It's people who have been raised in a heavily Mormon world who seem to struggle more with it.

But, as I am a failure in the Gospel on so many levels, I often see myself examining my beliefs and actions from a third-party point of view. Especially as I watch my children begin to form their own testimonies. What, exactly, is the difference between someone who believes and someone who doesn't? It's not knowledge, as most ex-Mormons would have you believe. Nor is it insulation from opposing points of view. Nor is it buying into the lies.

Unborrowed Light

In some ways, my testimony has come easily. I was taught from childhood to question and to turn to scriptures and the Lord for my answers. Ever since I first read the Joseph Smith story, one thing became very clear to me: that if Joseph could see God and talk with angels, so could I. At that moment, my testimony became something influenced almost entirely by my observations and by my relationship with God.

While I have not seen angels nor spoken with God face-to-face, and despite there being no evidence in scripture (outside of Mary) that a woman could even do such a thing, I still believe that God could speak to me that way, should He choose. And should He not choose to send me angels, I know He has spoken with me—at times quite strongly—in other ways.

But I have had deep discussions with many people for whom it hasn't been so easy. They don't feel what I have felt, or they don't put the same significance on their feelings as I do. For them, testimony is more academic, more reasoned. It is something to be understood more than it is felt. For others, testimony lacks both logic and feeling, and is rather something that they do, living their lives in God's service without the emotional or mental assurances of His literal existence.

With such varied experiences with Diety, the question remains: what is a testimony?

Power to Change

"For the fulness of mine intent is that I may persuade men to come unto the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, and be saved." —1 Nephi 6:4

I've been thinking a great deal of conversion, of what it really means to change a life around, purify yourself, and come to the God of sacrifice. Many times in my life, I've had reason to doubt myself, my conviction, and most especially my capacity to be saved.

So often, we think about missionary work, conversion, baptisms in terms of trackable numbers. Goals. I spent most of my mission wearing myself out against this perception of what it means to proclaim the gospel. And I get it. Numbers can be measured, goals can be set, failure or success can be determined. But the older I get, the more I live through, and the more I come to terms with having to live with my own imperfections, the more I realize that numbers can never measure the capacity of a human heart to change. And none of us have a right to decide whether or not a heart can change—not even when that heart is our own.

Abomination of Desolation and a Little Fig Tree

Before you try to read into what I'm about to say, and boil my words down to a "HATEZ TEH GAYZ," I'm going to fully admit that my words are about the legal ratification of gay relationships (vis a vis gay marriage) BUT that they are about much, much more than that. Most of you who read this will call me a bigot, insist that my opinions come from hatred, and soon (once you have power to do so) you will probably physically revile and attack me and my family.

So be it. I hope that when the time comes, I will be able to face it with courage and kindness.

For a long time, I have been fairly silent on the subject of gay marriage/civil unions. I probably will be again, once I've posted this. The only chance I had to vote on it so far, I voted to support gay marriage/civil unions. But my opinions have changed since then, and I become more sadly convinced of them as time goes on. My opinions haven't changed because of gay marriage, or gays, or aversion to homosexual attraction. They have changed because I've been taught of a much larger picture of the role of religious beliefs in a public sphere, and it is that larger picture I wish to address.

How I Stay

It's not exactly a secret that, while I defend the Church online, I often struggle with it personally. I am a divorced, still and probably endlessly single mom. I am an opinionated and outspoken female. I am great at acquaintance-friendship, but struggle mightily trying to find the real thing. My schedule means that I say "no" far more than I should, if I were a "good Mormon woman."

Raising a Missionary

My daughter is preparing for baptism. One of the things I encouraged her to do was to go up in front of the ward and bear testimony. She is seven years old, and very concerned about what other people think of her. Though she used to bear testimony regularly as a small child, she hasn't for some time after developing excruciating shyness in front of an audience.

I told her that bearing her testimony in Church on Fast Sunday might be a good thing to do before making the covenant to stand as God's witness. She agreed to do it, but her fears soon overtook her.

"But I don't know what to say," she said.

"You say what you believe in. What the gospel of Jesus Christ means to you."

"I'm going to be nervous."

"Most people are nervous, sweetheart. If you want me to, I'll go up with you."

She nodded, but still looked doubtful. "That would be good, mommy."

"I will stand up with you and hold your hand, if you like."

"Will you whisper what to say?"

A Prodigal Daughter

"Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: but as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf."
—Luke 15:29-30

This parable of the prodigal son has long troubled me. Partly for the same reasons it troubled the elder son. The younger was lazy, wasteful. He didn't care about his father's example, teachings, or entreaties. While the older son labored diligently to honor his father, it was the younger son who received honor simply for coming home.

Modesty: What's Your Policy?

Sure, hemlines are in the right
place. But is it modest?

You can't be modest and fashionable.

...

Now that the screams of protest have hopefully faded a bit, I'm going to share a few thoughts that I have been mulling around over the last several months.

I have a daughter about six years old. Despite my initial attempts to keep Barbie out of the house, after I decided to change my tactics and let the dolls into the home, she has developed a fascination with Barbies. I have also purchased several Barbie movies, which both of my daughters love. They're not as bad as you'd think. But, predictably, fashion plays a part in all of the stories. Several months ago, she expressed a desire to be a fashionista/model/rock star when she grows up. (The exact title changes, but the idea is the same.) I had a problem with this, but couldn't put my finger on exactly why. At first.

Who wants to waste time
tugging at hemlines?

When I was a teen I rolled my skirt tops like most girls whose parents didn't let them wear whatever they wanted, but relatively speaking I have always been fairly modest and largely unconcerned with fashion. As long as the colors don't clash and the clothes are comfortable, I'm good. It hasn't hurt that I have never been anything close to runway model material, nor that I always had tomboy tendencies. I rarely have a desire to wear anything that requires maintenance. Never having really challenged the LDS standards of modesty, I didn't have an informed testimony of it, just a trusting one. Knowing I'd have to present a good case to my daughters, I decided it was about time I developed one.

Enter Beauty Redefined. Lindsay and Lexie, the founders of BR, conducted a training study in which I volunteered to take part. I wanted to gain some tools to teach my daughters to love their bodies for what they can do, not for what they look like. And I wasn't sure how. The principles of BR are values that I have gravitated towards over the years. I didn't think it would change how I feel about the objectification problem, or that participating in the study would impact me as much as it has.

A Turbulent Heart

“The heart has reasons that reason cannot know.” —Blaise Pascall

There are times in a person's life when she is presented with opportunities to look at herself and find herself wanting. I am naturally very hard on myself. Growing up, I somehow learned that my worth was directly linked to perfection. It seems that relationships are the greatest of these opportunities.

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to live with my sister after her graduation from high school. We had not been the best of friends growing up. She was favored, and I was a truculent and sullen child. We did not have the enmity that many siblings cultivate, but we were jealous of each other for different reasons. I like to think that in the course of living together, and the trouble that we both experienced at the time, we learned to forgive and accept each other and ourselves a little bit more.

When I served my mission, I had close relationships with a few of my companions. One in particular, I think of as a sister. We had very similar outlooks on missionary work, and life in general. We both hated mushrooms (a good basis for any lasting friendship.) Most of all, she gave me confidence in myself and my unique brand of missionary work, which did not mesh well with the general missionary structure. Her influence started my feet down a long path which would eventually lead to me forgiving myself of my faults, no small task.

Many Perspectives, One Truth

I had the privilege to attend BYU. I say "privilege" because, despite the frequent reminders that the poor little old ladies in third world countries were paying for 70% of my tuition and the infrequent truths to BYU stereotypes, I was able to take classes where it was okay to talk about God and how whatever subject I was studying at the moment tied in to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Occasionally, the teachers would use some aspect of the subject to teach a gospel truth.

One such moment was in art class. We often sketched still lifes of styrofoam, fruit, random office supplies. After one such session, the instructor had us put all of our sketches up side by side to compare and critique. After we were done, he pointed out that all of the sketches were completely different, though the arrangement we sketched was the same. Even if all of our skills in sketching had been equal, some sketches showed parts of the arrangement that others couldn't see. In some sketches, entire elements of the arrangement were missing because they could not see them. He compared it to truth, and our search for truth.

There is an old saying I've heard in many variations, "There are always three sides: yours, mine, and the truth." When I was going through counseling to start me on the path to recovery, it was pointed out to me a that my perspective was not any less accurate than another's. That has been a hard lesson for me to learn.

But, I have begun to see that although there are many perspectives on any given situation (whether you are talking about describing an event or about religious truths), there is only one truth. And while I may not be completely accurate in describing that truth, neither is anyone else. I don't have to take their perspective as somehow more true than my own.

I am under the impression that most people are more likely to believe what they see over what others see, but the struggle for me has been the opposite. Either way, it is important to acknowledge other perspectives, to admit that others might see something you don't, but to rely on your own perspective in the end.

Convincing someone else of your perspective should not be about getting them to believe you, it should be about leading them to see what you see. Taking them by the hand, if you will, and leading them over to your side of the arrangement. Of course, they have to want to come.

For while we must take some things on faith for a time, the Lord has promised us that eventually, should we wish to understand, we will be shown the truth.

Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, "If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."
John 8:31-32

"And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things."
Moroni 10:5

The trick then becomes to be brave enough to face the truth. It is easy to be afraid of what we will find.

Growth of the Church in Germany

I am not the best attendee of mission reunions, but I did attend last October, and I'm very glad I did. We had a segment presented by a German on how the missionary work is changing in Germany. I'm sure most of you are aware of the consolidation of missions and reduction in missionaries sent there and in other places.

But what I (and I assume most) didn't know is that the number of convert baptisms and retention is actually growing rapidly, especially among the "target ages" of twenties and thirties.

The burden of missionary work has been shifted from missionaries and put squarely on members' shoulders. And in true German fashion, the members have risen to the occasion.

Many have assumed that the missions are being consolidated from lack of interest and conservation of resources. But what the numbers are showing (according to the presentation I heard) is that when members begin to realize their own responsibility for teaching and nurturing converts in their own areas, you get more conversions and more baptisms. People take care of each other. Missionary work becomes more personal and more real. The wards and stakes become more Christian. And those who convert are serious about converting, and stay with it.

So the Church is not shrinking because of fewer missionaries in developed areas. It is growing.

Amish Conversion

I've decided that I am going to be Amish. True, you may have to live without plumbing, but I find that a fair trade for Corporate America. There are many positives to being Amish. My top ten reasons:

10) No Insurance. I feel that Insurance Is Of The Devil. But that is a topic for another post.

9) No Telephones. I hate. Hate. HATE telephones. Convenient though they may be, I already try to use them for business only. I have too much trouble understanding voices without people behind them. I feel like I'm trying to talk to someone through a cotton gag.

8) Defined Gender Roles. No more guessing what my place and duty are. I'd know what I am, I'd know what I am to do, and I'd have the freedom to focus on doing it.

7) Community & Family. I would be a contributing part of a community. No longer a floating number on a list, I'd be a real person with real strengths and weaknesses. I'd have a reason to be alive, and be supported in that reason. It might have its downsides, but I'd be able to fulfil one of my dreams: to go to a barn raising.

6) Farming. I'm a born farm girl who has been largely corralled into cities most of her life. No more suffocating in nasty city air. I much prefer nasty farm air.

5) Clothes. No more shopping. No more horridly bright "spring" colors. No more nasty "Zero to . . . " shirts. No more waiting in lines. No more shopping carts engineered to go six different directions between four wheels.

4) Communal Governance. No taxes. No presidents. No politicians.

3) Germanity. I pine after Germany. The Amish are about as close as it gets on the western continent.

2) No Corporate America. I've already mentioned this, but it bears its own place in the list. This is probably the number one good reason. Well, maybe after horses.

1) Horses. I love horses and have been going through withdrawals for years. I tear up with I pass a field dotted with beautiful equines. Ah, the inhumanity!

Forget all of this "in the world" blather. Now I just have to figure out how to get in without changing my faith. Do you think they accept Mormons?

Separation and Self

I have a concept that's been nagging me for awhile. It dates back to a past thread and a post by another blogger that used my comments as an example of exclusion. To put a bit of background to it, someone was expressing a feeling of being left out by the Church policy of temple marriage, with a caveat that those policies should be changed somehow to include those not worthy to enter the temple. The corollary was that family (especially at weddings) was more important than the sacredness of the temple ceremony, and that by excluding people from the temple, the Church was belying its own family-oriented tenets. My comments essentially were meant to say that the Church excluded no one from the temple ceremony, but an individual's own choices excluded them. Though I see this point of view of one barred from a temple ceremony, I don't agree with it.

If I had friends or family who believed in a religion and had a very sacred ceremony that I could not attend, I'm not saying I'd skip with joy, but I'd respect their faith and not expect them to change it to suit me. I would probably not convert (since my beliefs are elsewhere,) but I would accept that it was my choice of faith that excluded me, not the faith itself. I really don't understand why blame must be fixed to the institution.

In addition, I feel that it is not of God to include everyone in everything, no matter their personal choices. In order for the orders of glory to be valuable, there must be rules set to govern those orders. Those rules must be met in order to receive the glory. It makes no more sense to admit everyone to the temple than it would to award everyone an "A" no matter the effort or answers given. If everything is rewarded equally, than there can be no measure of progression - or indeed, no progression at all. There would be no goal to reach, no standard to attain, and no real choices to make. All would be saved, yes, but that salvation would be without meaning. All would pursue their own right and wrong with no substance or direction.

In essence, all would be as Satan would have it. I wish someone who feels otherwise could explain to me why it would not be that way, rather than just rejoicing in their believed superiority of inclusion.