The Liberal Mormon

Why, when those who agitate, prod, question and demand call us "TBM" as though belief is something shameful, do we turn around and label them as "Liberal Mormons," mock them with "clever" poetry, and pat ourselves on the back for not being like them?

Are we so jealous of their position that we must toss away the better part of faith in Christ in order to join them in the work of destruction?

Far better that we remember: obedience is unto righteousness, faith is unto the power to heal the brokenhearted, and exaltation can never be achieved without the pure love of our Savior coursing through our collective soul.

If we cannot hang upon our own cross of public opinion and summon an outpouring of love for our accusers, we can never be the disciples of Christ that we think we are.

How to Help Me Stay?

There are no comments here on my previous post, but I have observed some Facebook conversations about it which made me think I definitely need to clarify.

I didn't write "How I Stay" so that I could get pity or compassion. I didn't write it to guilt people who happen to have intact and more-or-less working families, nor to tell people in wards that they're doing something wrong. I wrote it mostly to people like me: people who struggle and need some tools to fight harder for what they really, deep-down, want. But this one is to people who aren't struggling, and want to know how to help. I'm going to try my best to give you some tools to try.

The fact is that me and people like me KNOW we are different. There is nothing you can do to make us feel not-different. All your efforts in the world can't erase the pain we've felt as collateral damage in someone else's attempts to "be true to themselves" or whatever other reasons lurk behind our lives.

It's like I told a friend recently: you can't be responsible for other people's feelings. But what you can be is compassionate. And I think that's what the questions and comments are really getting at: how can you show compassion and make space for difference?

I have a few thoughts on that, but first I want to point out that "divorced people," or "people who have lost children," or "people who struggle with the Word of Wisdom," or "people who struggle with pornography," or "feminists" or whatever other category leaves someone feeling on the fringes, are first and foremost PEOPLE. Every single individual has individual needs or hopes. Don't take my word for what will help them. Ask them.

Secondly, don't expect them to tell you right away. Most of us are well aware of our other-ness. We often feel like burdens, and abhor the thought of being more of a burden. Granted, some of us accept as much help as we can get. I'm not one of those, and based on observations, I think that those who gladly consume others' resources are a vocal minority.

So, first search your own soul. Do you REALLY want to know what we need? Because it's probably going to cost you something, even if that "something" is nothing more than your own paradigm. If you really want to know what we need, you're probably going to have to ask more than once. You're going to have to show that you really mean it, and you're not just offering to assuage your own guilt at being more blessed/differently blessed/luckier than we are.

So with those caveats to what I'm about to say, here goes my attempt to give you some concrete tools. I'm not trying to share specifics of what I personally need in my situation as a divorced single parent, but to share more general tools to help approach anyone who doesn't quite fit into the standard Mormon mold. Please take what I say and apply it to whatever circumstances surround you. It may be that it doesn't help, but I hope it does.

A Call to Repentance: Pants

Okay, ENOUGH. Multiple times, I have been stopped from commenting in any way on those threads which are promoting this Wear Pants to Church day.

But here, on this, I feel empowered to speak.

If people want to wear pants to Church, if they want to co-opt the sacrament meeting for their own agenda, that is their prerogative. So long as they are not interfering with you actually partaking and blessing the sacrament, LET THEM WEAR PANTS. It is a total non-issue.

If you consider yourself a disciple of Christ, if you want to be faithful and exhibit His presence here on earth, if you want His light to shine from your countenance, please, PLEASE stop attacking the people of this movement!

Of course it isn't about pants. Of course the entire movement is a subtle trap, with no winners, only victims. Please don't add to it. Please let it go. It isn't important. It doesn't matter.

What does matter is you allowing your fear, discomfort, anger at the people of this movement to keep you from recognizing them as your Sisters and Brothers. I beg you, please pray for the Spirit to guide you. Please let Him into your hearts on this matter.

Because what you're doing isn't helping. It's only buying in to the Adversary's plan with all this. I can't beg you enough to cease from contention.

Read 3 Nephi 11 and D&C 10. Ponder them, amend your behavior after the pattern they teach. This is your opportunity to invite the Spirit and show forth the Love of Christ. Don't let it pass.

Being a Lady

Although I used to have no time for such silly nonsense, I have developed an appreciation for courtly graces (as in courteous graciousness).

For example, I was at a singles event not long ago, and there was a point at which tables and chairs had to be folded and put away. Although most of the women moved to the sides and let the men handle the "hard labor," I helped without thinking much of it. This is pretty typical for me, and I have observed a few different reactions by the men.

Some don't notice. Fair enough.

Some rush over and grab the whatever out of my hands and do it themselves. Thoughtful, but certainly not courteous.

But this last time, one man came over and helped me fold up the table. Every time I grabbed a table, he grabbed the other end. I would thank him, and he'd wheel the table away while I started folding up another one. By about the third table, he grinned at me and said, "You really shouldn't be doing this, you know."

I said, "Yes, but I'm not the type to sit on the sidelines and watch other people work." And he just smiled again and nodded agreement. He didn't try to stop me, but he was aware and courteous enough to assist me.

This is the essence of grace.

Now, I could choose to be all offended and see his assistance as a message that I can't take care of myself, or that I'm weak. But even if he had been one of the ruder examples above, it would be demonstrating extreme gracelessness on my part to choose offense, especially when the offender's motivations would be trying to be thoughtful.

I have found myself being less gracious lately, and I want to change it. There is no benefit demonstrating my irritation with certain things, and every benefit in accepting things that are less than ideal with poise.

This goes for things in the Church as well as in my own personal interactions. Sometimes Church leadership deals with things in ways I don't like. But that is no reason to grump around at people and make my opinion known. I really, REALLY want to work on being more gracious.

So that's my spring resolution. Now I just need to figure out how to do it.

When "Funny" Isn't

Once upon a time, I prided myself on my ability to make a person feel two inches tall in less than ten words. I was good at using sarcasm and "wit", and built quite a reputation for myself. I was careful to use my linguistic power only when the situation warranted it and the object of my censure was fully deserving of it. I thought that made me safe, excused me from any sin. A long series of experiences gradually led me to change my opinion, culminating with my husband's explanation of his extreme distaste for any form of sarcasm.

I've recently had an experience with a blog post that has led me to think about this topic again. I observed a once-admired person ridiculing a group of people I do not agree with. Despite being superficially on the "side" of the ridiculer, I felt uncomfortable and finally felt that I should speak up, lest my silence be construed as tacit approval. As a result, I put myself in a position to also be ridiculed. I have mixed feelings of disappointment and hurt about this. Gradually, the hurt is fading, though I'm still disappointed. I thought perhaps I was wrong in my stance, so I decided to make it the topic of study in my scripture study this morning. Since I think best when I write, I thought I'd share my conclusions here. It's not meant as an attack or justification; it's just a way for me to cope with what happened and to resolve my internal concerns. I have found that both scriptures and leadership, with one exception, seem to agree with me.

There is an undeniably bitter chasm between those who have left the LDS Church and those who still profess to believe. Often, those who have left mock and point fingers at those who believe in the Gospel. Sometimes, this mockery becomes downright attack. Unfortunately, mockery is not the sole prerogative of the disaffected. In fact, sometimes mockery creates the disaffected. President Hinckley in 1986 said "Everywhere is heard the insulting remark, the sarcastic comment, the verbal attack against the reputations of others. Sadly, these are too often the bases of our conversation. . . . In the Church it sows the seed of inactivity and finally apostasy." Those who become inactive and/or leave the Church can be either source or subject of the mockery. Ofttimes, they either begin to mock sacred things, even in jest or, when they find themselves doubting or with questions, they find themselves denigrated and shunned by those who should be their brothers and sisters in the gospel. In the latter case, the situation often seems to prove to those who are doubting that the Church is not founded by God. Some find it hard to believe that the Church of God would include those who do not practice His charity, and so they stop believing and they leave.

There is no doubt that not all humor is wrong, but sarcasm is a particular brand of so-called "humor" of its own. Peter B. Rawlins in his 1974 New Era article explains,

"A most damaging form of humor is sarcasm, or cutting, hostile, or contemptuous remarks. Such humor is usually based on inordinate pride and is usually aimed at some person or group thought to be inferior, such as minority races, ethnic groups, and the physically handicapped. Occasionally some good comes from these jokes when taken in good humor by the object of the joke . . . . but this occurs only when the feelings of all concerned are considered.

Though often meant to be harmless, sarcasm denotes insensitivity to the feelings of others, stemming either from thoughtlessness or maliciousness."

In other words, the very nature of sarcasm includes insensitive thoughtlessness or maliciousness, depending on whether or not the person is aware that they are hurting others. To say that someone deserves the sarcasm is to admit, perhaps without conscious realization, to intentional hurting of another child of God, no matter how far led astray that child of God may be.

That is not to say that one should never criticize behavior. As President Hinckley later says,

"I am asking that we look a little deeper for the good, that we halt the sounds of insult and sarcasm, that we more generously compliment virtue and effort. I am not asking that all criticism be silenced. Growth comes of correction. Strength comes of repentance. Wise is the man who can acknowledge mistakes pointed out by others and change his course of action."

The trick is to make certain that criticism is being done in a spirit of love and not one of mocking sarcasm. ANY time criticism is necessary, the criticizer must show an increase of love towards the person if they wish to criticize righteously. One should try to evaluate and see if their love is stronger than death. Otherwise, one should probably refrain from criticizing, unless otherwise directed by the Spirit. (And if you're in the frame of spirit necessary to be directed by the Spirit, you are probably also filled with love for the person needing to be criticized!)

Those who are struggling with questions and doubts need that love more than anyone. It is too common (and easy) to label people with doubts as near-Apostates, and then to ignore and revile them. After all, Korihor was not allowed to teach among the Anti-Nephi-Lehis, and Christ did not always give the Pharisees nothing but warm fuzzies. Most of the time, however, if the situation is examined with a prayerful heart, it will be discovered that the people in question are not nearly anti-Christs and are almost never deliberately misunderstanding the Gospel as the Pharisees did. Usually, people with doubts are just like every other person in the Church. Can any long-term member honestly say that they have never had questions or doubts and yet still have a strong testimony? If there are any, they are rare.

I guess that most of the time, those members who overreact to questions and doubts do so because they do not have a true understanding of agency and the Atonement, or faith in their own testimony. They are afraid of questions and doubts because they are afraid that if they are exposed to questions, their testimonies will be undermined.

Of course, my last two paragraphs do not apply to those few souls who are truly anti-Christ. These are people whose only goal is to lead others away from the Church and from Christ. It is usually quite easy to tell the difference. Anti-Christs are rarely questioning, but they often pose rhetorical questions. They rarely seem as though they are searching, but will exude confidence in the answers they have already received. If nothing else, if you can feel the Spirit's true love and sorrow for a person, but still feel that you should not engage in discussion, the Spirit is directing you away from a conversation, rather than your own fears acting to categorize and revile a person who is honestly seeking to know.

What I have found is that sarcasm is not compatible with Christian discipleship. I could find no references to God or Christ mocking anyone. The one exception I found in the scriptures is when it mentions in Proverbs and Psalms that the Lord will laugh at the wicked. Given the nature of these two books of scripture, I think that is a bit of literary word painting on Solomon's and David's (or others') parts, and not literal.

Meekness is compatible with discipleship, and as Elder Maxwell stated in his 1982 BYU address, the meek know how to not speak. They have nothing to prove and no need to revile others. "The meek think of more clever things to say than are said. And it’s just as well, for there is so much more cleverness in the world than wisdom, so much more sarcasm than idealism."

Rawlins says later in his article:

"Would it not be better to “lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees” (D&C 81:5) than to humiliate and disgrace one of our neighbors? When humor is such a powerful tool in building subtle bonds of brotherhood, in cheering those who suffer, and in teaching profound and memorable lessons, why should it be used to belittle and discourage?

Those who profess belief in Christ should shape their humor in the light of Christ’s teachings. Being rejected from His kingdom because of a warped sense of humor would not be funny."

Sarcasm is never funny. "Remember, too, that no matter what you see in the TV sit-coms and movies, put-down, cutting humor is not good humor. While it may be entertaining to watch, in real life, cutting humor and sarcasm are too unkind to be funny. They can only injure, never uplift." (Chris Crowe, New Era 1986)

What disciple of Christ would wish to harm any of the souls for which He died? Whether or not those souls accept His sacrifice is irrelevant; He died for them unconditionally, should we not give them the benefit of the doubt and love them unconditionally? Let their choices push them away from the Church and the comfort of God, if that is what they wish. Never let your choices force that decision upon them. If you criticize, criticize with love, not sarcasm. You might be surprised how many "near-Apostates" only need that love to give them the courage and strength they need to come back to Him.

Other interesting and pertinent articles:
Brad Wilcox 2000
Rex A. Skidmore 1988
James E. Faust 2000
Russell Wilcox 2007
FHE Book 1997

Priesthood vs. Motherhood

I haven't posted in quite some time. My sister is getting married this week, and I've been sewing dresses for myself and my daughter. I also try not to post unless I have something significant (to me, if not to anyone else) to say. In reading Feminist Mormon Housewives (a blog I read often and find interesting, though I'm certain I'm not considered "cut from the proper cloth" there,) I've slowly gathered the urge to write about something that seems to be a recurring theme there.

Not too long ago, a commenter mentioned that they were sick of hearing the priesthood compared to motherhood, and felt that it demeaned both. I've mused over that for some time, and have come to a couple of half-baked questions on the subject. Why would priesthood be compared to motherhood? What is the correlation?=

1) Motherhood is about discomfort and pain.
I put this first because pain is how I became a mother. I went into labor with only two hours of sleep under my belt. I was exhausted and wanted to rest, but my body had other ideas. When a man holds the priesthood, he often finds himself sitting in meetings rather than in a hammock under a tree. He finds himself physically exerting himself to mow an old lady's lawn, or help someone move. He finds himself blessing someone to die, rather than to be healed. Although the pain of holding the priesthood is not comparable to the pain of childbirth, it is present over a much longer period of time, and often comes by surprise.

2) Motherhood is about service.
This one is obvious. The priesthood is not about power and authority alone, it is first and foremost about service. It is a holy calling to serve the Lord's children. The power and authority given through the priesthood is given only to allow that man to better serve. The priesthood requires monthly visiting of every family in the ward. The priesthood requires sitting on the stand at church, rather than with family. The priesthood requires getting up at all hours of the night to bless someone who is sick. The priesthood requires humbling oneself to speak in God's name. The priesthood requires giving up one's own desires and hobbies in the service of the family.

3) Motherhood is a proxy for Heavenly Mother.
We don't know much about our Heavenly Mother. It is necessary for our earthly mothers to represent our Heavenly Mother. The priesthood requires a man to stand as a proxy for Heavenly Father. Matthew 25:40 - "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me," could also read "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it on behalf of me." What a daunting responsibility! I can't imagine what it would feel like to know that I was supposed to represent Heavenly Father to someone who is sick or steeped in sin and needing love and reassurance.

4) Motherhood is about joy.
The joy in motherhood seems bittersweet to me. I treasure my daughter's smiles and hugs, knowing all too soon, she will want nothing to do with me as she moves through her teenage years. The joy in motherhood is found in serving despite possible consequences. When I was a missionary, I felt similarly about investigators and inactives as I do now about my daughter. I loved them and gave them everything, doing things I hated doing to give them a chance to accept the gospel, knowing that most would reject it through the "teenage years" of their spirituality. It must be similiar to a worthy priesthood holder, especially one with a stewardship calling (like a family, or a ward.)

5) Motherhood is about letting go.
The priesthood cannot be wielded through force. My husband is learning to exercise his priesthood. He often gains inspiration on my behalf. It is difficult to me, who has been independant for so long, to accept and act on his inspiration. Unsure in his position as presiding priesthood in our home, he must be nervous to share his impressions with me. He will some day understand that, much like motherhood where the mother may know best, he needs to learn to let go of my decisions, but to share his impressions anyways. That sometimes seems an almost impossible balance.

These thoughts, as I've said, are rather ill-formed and half-baked. Granted, also, one must worthily hold the priesthood in order for them to apply. But it's a start towards understanding, at any rate.