Mormon Control

              I have tried three times to have my name removed from the membership rolls of theChurch of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, more commonly called the Mormon Church, only to have my requests go ignored. Technically, I am still counted as a member, in spite of my strong agnosticism and sinful habits, such as my undying love for all things coffee.

              Last week the Mormon Church excommunicated Kate Kelly, who does believe in the Mormon faith. Her “sin” was to found an organization called Ordain Women, which called on the authorities to prayerfully consider the matter of granting women the priesthood. A mild request and one that would have made Mormonism a much friendlier religion. But Kelly was excommunicated, kicked out of the church that she loved so much.

              Kate Kelly wants nothing more than to remain a member of the Mormon Church. I want nothing more than to leave. Neither of us have had our wishes fulfilled. I have had authorities talk down to me, questioning my maturity and the wisdom of my decision. Kelly’s worthiness was discussed in a private meeting, which Kelly was not privy to, with an all-male board deciding that excommunication was necessary.

              One woman wants to stay in. Another woman wishes to leave. Neither of us have been granted what we desire. And in the middle is a church that seems desperate for control. Control over a pesky woman who dared asked for equal rights. Control over a pesky apostate who wants to leave.

              Perhaps it seems small. Kelly can continue to advocate for equal rights outside of Mormonism. I haven’t been to church in years. But the reality is that these actions create a long chain of undesirable reactions. Already Kelly has been branded a sinner, a troublemaker, by the simple act of excommunication. Everything she has worked for has been tainted by the label of apostasy. I, on the other hand, run the risk of being hunted down by the missionaries and local authorities. Within Mormonism, being hunted down is the norm, rather than the exception. When I have children, their names will be put on the membership rolls. When these children turn eight, there is a strong probability that the missionaries will turn up on my doorstep to convince my children that their eternal salvation rests on baptism. No parent wants a nineteen-year old kid telling their child that Mommy and Daddy are wrong and bound for hell. I could hope that the missionaries and church members would respect my rights as a parent – but I have seen members and missionaries overstep the boundaries a thousand times before, all in the name of religious zeal.

              I sincerely hope that Kate Kelly finds peace in moving forward. I have found my own peace, although it fluctuates at times. 

             But maybe the secret is in not letting the Mormon Church control us. I’ll find a way to get past my failed resignation attempts and see the manipulations of the Mormon Church for what it really is – the futile attempts of a church that is desperate to avoid facing its own impotence and irrelevance. 

Book Review: Elders

          The book “Elders”, written by Ryan McIlvain, features two LDS (Mormon) missionaries as they go about proseletyzing in the town of Carinha, Brazil. Elder McLeod is an American who is burnt out after eighteen months of proselytizing; he refuses to cater to the politics within the mission field and as a result, is characterized as difficult and unruly. Elder Passos, a Brazilian who joined the LDS church after the death of his mother, struggles to balance his faith with his identity. This story takes place against the backdrop of the 9/11 attacks and the American invasion of Iraq, a tension that is reflected in the hostiles attitudes towards Elder McLeod. Elder McLeod and Elder Passos are companions; the strict missionary rules require them to spend every moment together, a fact that results in a tenuous friendship between two unlikely people. These characters are boys that are turning into men, with all of the uncertainty that marks such a transition.
          Elder Passos is devout, overly-serious, ambitious about the future, and uncertain about his place in the world. He studies English in his spare time, hoping to attend BYU. Perhaps the most poignant moment came at a time when the entire country is watching Brazil play in the final match of the Latin American Football Championships on a Sunday, at the same time as church. The mission president, an American, has insisted that church cannot be canceled, rescheduled, or skipped. Looking at the mission president, Elder Passos sees “a man who could look at an entire culture and see a game, merely, who could look at a country-wide communion and see a crowd.” As a Mormon, Passos possesses a simple, sincere faith: he believes, with all his heart, that the teachings of the LDS Church are true.
          The conflict in this story centers on an investigator Josefina and her husband Leandro. For Passos and McLeod, the stakes are high regarding these potential converts: in them, the two missionaries see the chance to resolve their internal conflicts. McLeod seeks ‘faith as a principle in action’: to learn faith through the action of teaching others. Passos is seeks the potential convert, the ‘one star in a million, a golden elect’, as a way of changing lives, just as his own life was changed after the death of his mother.
          Most stories written about Mormons tend to go for the dramatic: all in or all out. Good versus bad. This is not one of those stories. Rather, this is a book that focuses on the small: the little gestures of friendship that are often misinterpreted or over-looked, the simmering doubts that never come to a full boil, the nagging worries and insecurities that accompany faith. The result was something quite beautiful, a story that lingered in the mind long after reading.

An Outsider's Perspective Of Mormonism

          I am guilty, even now, of assuming that never-Mormons can never fully understand Mormon culture. Some of this attitude is a result of some of the questions and assumptions I have heard over the years. For example, a couple weeks ago, I had someone ask me if Mormons were allowed to celebrate Halloween. But, as with many things, I have been unduly harsh in my judgment. It is true that Mormon culture is confusing, with a lot of Mormon-specific terminology and beliefs. However, sometimes outsiders can see things that insiders, with their limited perspective, cannot.
          Last week I wrote about re-reading the book “Under The Banner of Heaven” by Jon Krakauer. This is a book that centers on a religiously-motivated murder; the Lafferty brothers, who were raised in a strict Mormon home, ultimately went back to a more fundamentalist interpretation of Mormonism that included polygamy, prophecy, and blood atonement. Krakauer used this example – and examples from other modern fundamentalist groups – to draw a connection between the actions of fundamentalists and the origins of their beliefs in early Mormon teachings. The first time I read “Under The Banner of Heaven” I missed a lot of details, owing to my limited insider’s point of view. Fast forward a decade, during which my perspective on the Mormon faith shifted more towards an outsider’s point of view, and I began to see things I had been unable to see before.
          I grew up with a highly white-washed, saccharine view of Mormon origins. Everything was painted in black and white: Mormons and non-Mormons, good and evil. The good Mormons and the mob that persecuted the Mormons. But life is more complicated than that. Instead of black and white, most of life is painted in varying shades of complexity. People are a mixture of good and bad intentions, a fact that seems to be reflected in an outsider’s view of Mormon history. Mormons (and ex-Mormons) have something to prove about their history. Never-Mormons do not, which allows them a valuable impartiality.
          And so that brings me to my main question: can outsiders truly understand Mormon culture? It appears to me that the answer is yes, that outsiders can see things about Mormon culture that, as insiders, we don’t see. The more I travel out of Mormonism, the more I begin to see my past struggles with a clearer eye. I never had to struggle with balancing my faith with unsavory Mormon history; I only discovered the alternate history after leaving. I did, however, struggle to make sense of the rationale behind the priesthood ban on blacks. I remember struggling with the idea that access to Heaven is only granted as a result of Mormon temple rituals and that only by getting married and having children would I be allowed into Heaven. Specific rituals and beliefs struck me as being an arbitrary requirement that had nothing to do with how good or bad a person's heart was.  I remember struggling with the idea that faith in the Mormon Church was the only way to truly be happy, when the reality was that it made me miserable. Now that I am out, I am recognizing the mental gymnastics that I had to put myself through in order to align my own personal convictions with the teachings of Mormonism.
          Yes, there are a lot of misconceptions out there about Mormonism. But the truth is that the outsiders who take the time to listen and research end up coming away with a far more complete assessment of Mormon culture than many insiders, with their limited perspective, can manage.
          Myself included.

Re-reading Under The Banner of Heaven

          I have stated multiple times that I was in my mid-twenties when I found out that Joseph Smith had married multiple women, including teenagers and women who already had husbands. Although this is technically true, I find that my story of enlightenment about Mormon history is considerably more complex than I had realized. It is true that I did not learn these facts in church. While re-reading Jon Krakauer’s book Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, I discovered that these facts were hidden in plain sight, if only I had taken the time to look. 
          The first time I read “Under The Banner of Heaven”, I was in college and only a few years out of Mormonism. I remember reading the gory details of this book – the tangled messes of polygamous families, the horrible downslide of the Lafferty brothers, and the devastating murders of Brenda Lafferty and her infant daughter – and dismissing them as having nothing to do with the mainstream Mormon church that I grew up in. My primary reflex was to dismiss anything to do with polygamy as being not-really-Mormon. My secondary reflex was to dismiss any account of Mormon history written by a non-Mormon. These reflexes were there in spite of the fact that by that time I was an atheist who had made the conscious decision to leave the Mormon Church.
          On page 5, Jon Krakaeur states

“The religious literature handed out by the earnest young missionaries in Temple Square makes no mention of the fact that Joseph Smith – still the religion’s focal personage – married at least thirty-three women and probably as many as forty-eight. Nor does it mention that the youngest of these wives was just fourteen years old when Joseph explained to her that God had commanded that she marry him or face eternal damnation.”

          I did read this book when I was younger and yet the details about Mormon history, including Joseph Smith’s polygamous past and some of the more violent aspects of the early teachings, went straight over my head. There were a lot of details that I missed the first time around – the full import of the early teachings about polygamy, the more unsavory aspects of the early leaders, the connection between the early teachings about polygamy and modern Mormon fundamentalists, and the brutality of the blood atonement taught by Brigham Young. The first time reading this book, I ignored the history because it didn't agree with the lessons I grew up with. I also think that I ignored the history because I needed to protect myself. It is not an easy task to examine the short-comings of the religion you grew up with.
          The truth is, reading this book was an uncomfortable experience. There was a lot that was familiar, even within the story of the Lafferty boys. I was raised with a pretty literal interpretation of Mormonism; my father is the type of person who takes the words of the leaders at face value. The visions and revelations of the fundamentalists described in this book are eerily similar to the visions and revelations described by the early leaders. Within this book are the stories of people that took the words of the early Mormon leaders in a very literal sense and twisted them into a violent conclusion.
          I too was raised to take the words of the leaders at face value; to recognize that commonality, no matter how different I may be, is a profoundly uncomfortable feeling.
          Nowadays, the Mormon leaders are very careful about what history they do and do not teach. The majority of Mormons, including the ones I grew up with, are just people that are trying to live a good life according to the standards expected of them. The majority of them will live decent, upstanding lives. No one talks about polygamy anymore and the more radical teachings of the early leaders are being buried under a carefully constructed amnesia. But the words of the leaders are, according to the Mormon teachings, the words of God himself. This is the lesson I learned. This is also the lesson that the Lafferty boys learned.

The Woman Who Wore Pants To Church

          This Sunday, December 16th, a group of Mormon women are planning a peaceful demonstration called “Wear Pants To Church Sunday”. This demonstration is only significant within the context of Mormon culture, which has very strong expectations for women to wear skirts to church. Pants aren’t forbidden; if a woman chooses to wear pants to Sunday service, no formal disciplinary action will be taken. From the outside, there seems to be no issue surrounding women wearing pants to church.
          As the organizers of the “Wear Pants To Church Sunday” event are discovering, there is a deep antagonism within Mormonism against the idea of women wearing pants to church. Some of the comments from the event’s Facebook page include:

“I cannot support an event that seeks to question divinely inspired doctrine about the roles of men and women. We are not meant to be the same. I can't believe how many women are listening to the Worldly view and Instead of celebrating their divine attributes and differences they want to change who God created them to be so they can be like their male counterparts.”

“ In 1993 president packer said one of the greatest threats to the church is feminism within the church itself, looks like that revelation is starting to come to pass right before our eyes, way to bring more negative attention to the church ladies”

“While you're at it why not shave your head, have your breasts removed and get your tubes tied? that'll show em”

          One of the women in my childhood congregation wore pantsuits to church every Sunday. She was the only woman brave enough to wear pants; members dismissed her actions by saying – “Oh, that’s just Carla*, she does whatever she wants.” Carla’s husband had served as bishop and came from a respectable Mormon family; no one dared to suggest that her pantsuits were a sign of apostasy.
          Carla was an outspoken matriarch, a woman that many people feared, myself included. My first memory of Carla was as a five-year old girl returning to the chapel from the bathroom. I walked into the chapel and sat down next to my mother. Or at least, I sat next to the woman that looked like my mother from the back. I slipped into the church-pew and snuggled up to the woman I thought was my mother, only to look up at the face of Carla. I started crying – loud,anxious tears that scandalized my mother. Seeing my confusion, Carla put her arms around me and told me that I was welcome to sit next to her. I shook my head and ran back to my mother, who was sitting a couple pews behind. 
          Most of the people in our ward feared Carla. She was the organist and in charge of all of the musical activities. She possessed an efficiency and take-charge attitude that, as a child, I feared, and as an adult, I envy. Carla was the real deal, a woman who raised eight children on a professor’s salary, ran the church music service, and still had the guts to speak her mind. Over the years, Carla, with her usual blunt manner, has asked me if I was anorexic (all ballet dancers are anorexic!), why I dyed my hair red (people spend lots of money to get the blonde hair you already have!),and trotted me around her daughter’s bridal shower with the triumphant news that I had finished my first year of college with straight-A’s. Straight-A’s! she said. That’s something to be proud of! I had been doubting my achievements; Carla's praise made me proud again. 
          Carla was outspoken, which made many of the members uncomfortable, as there is an unwritten rule against dissent. Carla was also honest. She served as the Relief Society president when I was in high school; those were the years that my mother enjoyed Relief Society. After church, my mother recounted tales of Carla presiding over lessons – listing virtues, preaching values – only for Carla to end the lesson by saying – “Well, I don’t know about you, but I haven’t actually met anyone that can fulfill these criteria.” Carla was a rare flash of honesty in the sea of the Prozac-fueled “happy, happy, happy” denial that is Mormon culture. My mother was too quiet to wear pantsuits or to speak her dissenting opinions; Carla was the woman that gave voice to my mother’s unease. 
          My father didn’t like Carla much; he complained that she was too bossy, too opinionated, too controlling. Carla was in charge of directing the music and my father was a musician; the two of them had many battles concerning the musical numbers. Carla was the rare woman with the courage to contradict my father. 
          Carla also wore pantsuits every Sunday, an act of independence that no one dared to speak about. I am not sure why she chose to wear pantsuits; I don’t think she wore them to make a statement or to create controversy. I never questioned Carla’s pantsuits; I also never questioned the fact that no other women wore pants. I too dismissed Carla’s pantsuits as just an eccentricity. 
          I never really understood Carla. As a Mormon, I thought she was too outspoken. As an ex-Mormon,I didn’t understand why she stayed within Mormonism. Now that I have a deeper understanding of the courage required to defy Mormon conventions, I realize that I dismissed her too easily. There isn’t a lot of room within Mormon culture for women like Carla; there are strong expectations for women to be soft-spoken and submissive. Carla was none of these; the fact that she was able to be herself in a culture that was stacked against her is a testament to her strength of will. Carla was a path-breaker, the type of woman that walked to the beat of her own drum. 
          Carla was the woman that wore pants to church. 






*Name has been changed

This Is Not Progress: Mormons, Gays, And Feminists

          There have been a few changes within Mormonism this past year.  First, the General Authorities announced a change in missionary policy, lowering the age for both men and women.  Men are allowed to serve at the age of eighteen, women at the age of nineteen.  Previously, men went out at nineteen; women were allowed to serve at twenty-one, if they were still unmarried.  The service time remains the same – two years for men, eighteen months for women.  When asked why the change in policy didn’t erase the differences between men and women completely, Thomas S. Monson’s reply was “one miracle at a time”.

          Women can now serve missions at nineteen.  This sounds like progress – except that women are still not granted any authority in church matters.  Within the mission field, only the male missionaries will be allowed to fulfill leadership positions.  Any investigator that a sister missionary teaches will be baptized by a male missionary, who will receive the credit for conversion.  I view this change in the policy regarding sister missionaries as a minor concession granted, with no real change in sight.  Authority – and the ability to effect change – remains firmly in the hands of an all-male leadership. 

          Every position within the Mormon Church that is filled by a woman is ultimately presided over by men.  Mormon authorities point to the Relief Society – an all-female organization – as proof that women are equal.  What they don’t mention is that any decision made by the Relief Society leaders can be over-ruled at any time by the male authorities.  As a teenager, I attended a church girls’ camp in the summer.  Our leaders were responsible, capable women.  This was not enough; church policy required that each ward provide a male chaperone, usually the bishop or one of his counselors.  I left Mormonism while I was still in high school; had I stayed, this dynamic would have followed me through my entire life, as all-female gatherings within Mormonism are subject to male authorities attending.  All of the pretty talk about respecting women is pointless when church culture is based on the assumption that women are not capable or trustworthy. 

          The second big change has been in the form of a website titled “Mormons and Gays” that is being touted as a new era in Mormon-gay relations.  The Church’s official stance on homosexuality is at the top of the page and reads:

“The experience of same-sex attraction is a complex reality for many people. The attraction itself is not a sin, but acting on it is. Even though individuals do not choose to have such attractions, they do choose how to respond to them. With love and understanding, the Church reaches out to all God’s children, including our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters.”

          In other words – it’s okay to be gay, it’s just not okay to be gay. 

          This is not progress.  I define progress as moving towards a new future.  What I see is a church that is being dragged into the future kicking and screaming.  Granting token gestures towards marginalized groups, in a manner that suggests the underlying attitudes are still intact, is not progress.  There is now a website that says Mormons should love gays, with the acknowledgment that being gay might be inherent.  Accompanying this gesture is a huge asterisk, in the form of a statement: “There is no change in the Church’s position of what is morally right.”  In other words, there has been lip service paid to the idea of change, without any significant revision of the underlying attitudes. 

          What about this can be labeled progress? 

           The Mormon Church has a long history of being forced into tolerance by the surrounding society.  There is now a satire website called “Mormons and Negroes”, which draws on quotes from former leaders of the Mormon Church.  As this website illustrates, the Mormon Church also has a very unsavory history with race relations.  Black men weren't allowed to hold the priesthood until 1978.  Receiving the priesthood is a rite of passage granted to twelve-year boys and is necessary for a full life as a Mormon male.  Lifting the priesthood ban was heralded as a monumental step forward.  However, the reversal of the priesthood ban was prompted more by the threat of legal sanctions rather than genuine tolerance.  Perhaps this would be okay; no matter the reason, the ban was lifted.  However, the Mormon authorities have never retracted their previous teachings or apologized for the ban.  As a result, attitudes regarding race have changed in a slow and uneven manner, with a significant number of members repeating the older teachings as truth.  After all, the men that made these statements are considered prophets of God – what argument can be made that these teachings are in error?  The only answer is to forget or deny the past.  As a teenager in the late 90s/early 00s, I learned that black people were descendants of Cain, cursed with dark skin for Cain’s murder of Abel.  I also learned that Native Americans had been cursed with dark skin for similar reasons.  Even in the post-civil rights era of my teenage years, these archaic and damaging teachings were far from dead. 

          Earlier this year, Randy Bott, a very popular BYU professor, re-hashed some of the attitudes surrounding Mormon race relations in a Washington Post interview.  After public outcry, the Mormon Newsroom released the following statement. 

"For a time in the Church there was a restriction on the priesthood for male members of African descent. It is not known precisely why, how, or when this restriction began in the Church but what is clear is that it ended decades ago. Some have attempted to explain the reason for this restriction but these attempts should be viewed as speculation and opinion, not doctrine. The Church is not bound by speculation or opinions given with limited understanding."

          There was no attempt by Mormon authorities to address the past.  There was no attempt to clarify that the earlier teachings – which Bott had repeated in a national interview – were not of God.  Instead, the Mormon PR machine tried to sweep the whole issue under a rug.  

          This is not progress.  These are the actions of a church that is unwilling or unable to change. 

          Change is only effective if done willingly and with a full heart.  I see evidence of change among the members; Prop 8 was a source of heartache to many faithful Mormons.  Most members have also moved past the racist teachings of the previous leaders.  These are the people that give me hope for a better future.  What I don’t see is any hint of change among the authorities or even an avenue for change to occur. 

Who Owns The Term Mormon?

          Polygamy is a touchy subject for many Mormons. Mention the word polygamy to a faithful Mormon and you will observe an almost universal knee-jerk reaction – an explanation that Mormons do not practice polygamy and that polygamist groups covered in mainstream media are not Mormon. To counter the image of polygamy, Mormon authorities made an unsuccessful attempt to trademark the term “Mormon”, as an attempt to prevent fundamentalist Mormon groups from using the term. Members are also instructed to refer to themselves as members of the Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter-Day Saints, LDS for short, as a way of combating the stigma of polygamy associated with the term Mormon, although in an ironic twist, the latest attempt to improve the image of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has been an expensive ad campaign titled “I’m A Mormon”.
          What I find interesting about this reaction is the fact that polygamy was an integral part of early Mormonism. Joseph Smith – the founder of the Mormon Church and considered to be a modern-day Prophet, Seer, and Revelator – married an estimated 33 women. His successor, Brigham Young, had an estimated 55 wives. The third leader of the Mormon Church, John Taylor, had seven wives. In 1882, when the U.S. government began cracking down on polygamy in Utah, there was a lot of confusion within the church. John Taylor – leader of the church at the time - wrote a document in 1886 that fundamentalists argue affirms the permanency of plural marriage. In 1890 the Mormon president Wilford Woodruff issued a Manifesto disavowing the practice of polygamy. Polygamy was still practiced in secret, with some Mormons choosing to move to either Canada or Mexico to continue the practice of plural marriage. Eventually, after much controversy, the President Joseph Fielding Smith issued the Second Manifesto in 1904, which once again disavowed the practice.
          Fundamentalist Mormons still believe in and practice polygamy. The difference between fundamentalist Mormons and mainstream Mormons is that fundamentalists do not believe the 1890 Manifesto was a divine revelation. Instead, they point to the 1886 revelation by John Taylor that re-iterates the permanence of God’s commandments, one of which they argue is the practice of polygamy. In a nutshell, the only difference between mainstream Mormon and fundamentalist Mormons is the fact that fundamentalist Mormons believe in a literal interpretation of the past Mormon leaders, rather than following the leaders that came after John Taylor. When Martin Luther split off from the Roman Catholic Church, he did not lose the right to call himself a follower of the Bible and Jesus Christ; neither should fundamentalist Mormons lose the right to call themselves followers of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon.
          Furthermore, LDS members do believe polygamy exists in Heaven – they just don’t believe in practicing polygamy on Earth, where the laws of the land prohibit the practice. Growing up, I was taught that if a man was widowed, he could be sealed in an eternal marriage to another wife. When he went to Heaven, he would be reunited with all of his wives. Mormons believe that only married people can gain access to the highest level of Heaven. We were assured that if we didn’t receive the opportunity to be married in this life, then we would have the opportunity to get married in the next life. There was, however, no assurance that the celestial marriage would be monogamous.
          This begs the question – what defines the term Mormon? Are the members of the mainstream Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints the only people who can lay claim to the term Mormon? Or does this term extend to all the sects that follow the teachings of the early leaders and the Book of Mormon?
          Even those who still practice polygamy?

Blessings & Tithing

                As far back as I can remember, the leaders have promised that if a person has the faith to pay tithing, then “the Lord will open the windows of Heaven and pour out his richest blessings”.  Leaders repeat this promise over and over, in different permutations of the original revelation on tithing made by the leader Lorenzo Snow, who promised that if members had the faith to pay tithing, then rain would come to rescue the crops from drought.  Leaders talk about how you can’t afford not to pay tithing.  They give examples of people who paid tithing and were miraculously able to make ends meet.  They promise - over and over - that having the faith to pay your tithing will result in blessings.

                And since Mormons tend to be literal when interpreting the promises of their leaders, this creates an odd dynamic.  As we repeated, over and over, “The Church is perfect.  People aren’t.”  Since the Church is perfect - and the imperfection of people provide such an easy scapegoat - a lack of material blessings is assumed to be correlated with a lack of faith. 

                My parents were poor for many years.  For them, paying tithing was an extreme act of faith, as often the money that was paid to the Mormon Church was needed to feed the family.  And yet paying tithing didn’t result in more material wealth.  My parents struggled along, trying to make the pennies match up, while performing the requirements of Mormonism with diligence.  The faith of my parents - to pay tithing even when tithing was a struggle - is an awe-inspiring testament to their commitment. 

                If you look at the members that rank higher in hierarchy - bishopric, stake presidency, General Authorities, Presidency - you will notice that these leaders are notable more for their professional and financial success.  Thomas S. Monson, the current President, was an advertising executive and eventual general manager for Deseret News Press.  His first counselor, Henry B.Eyring, is a graduate of Harvard Business School and was a professor at Stanford, as well as the president of Ricks College.  His second counselor, Dieter F. Uchtdorf, was a German aviator and airline executive.  These men were part of the middle to upper class, with significant professional achievements, when they were recruited for leadership.  I have no doubt that there are many good and faithful men from modest backgrounds; however, these men do not seem to be reflected in the makeup of the authorities that are responsible for guiding the Mormon Church. 

                Within my own ward, the leaders who were never from the “ragged” families - the families that worked blue-collar jobs while following the command to have lots of children, even if you couldn’t afford them.  Most of the leaders selected were either college professors or white-collar professionals.  I didn’t notice much of a difference between the leaders and the poorer families in terms of their character or faith.  But I did notice a difference in which families were called to leadership positions. 

                For what it was worth, I don’t think the stigma was applied to me, even though I was from a poor family.  I was a bright student and enthusiastic about my studies.  There were a number of wonderful women that stepped in to support and guide me.  But with the oft-repeated promises of receiving blessings if you are faithful enough, there is the mindset that a lack of blessings correlates with a lack of faith.  

On Trying To "Have It All" As A Mormon Girl

          I was a fourteen-year old girl attending a Mormon camp called “Especially For Youth”.  After a seminar meant to excite the youth about serving full-time missions - taught by a very cute blonde boy who had recently returned from his own - I was standing in line for lunch.  I struck up a conversation with the boy next to me, who had also attended the same talk.  My enthusiasm for serving a mission was at an all-time high, as I started gushing about how much I wanted to serve, how important the work was to me.  I was fourteen and I wanted to be the perfect Mormon, to live up the standards that everyone expected of me.  I wanted to be everything that everyone expected of me.  

          “I just can’t wait to go on a mission!” I said, looking at the boy.  He was average cute, which in the hyper-competitive world of Mormon courtship, was enough.  Even at fourteen, I was all too aware of the overwhelming pressure of marriage and its implications on my eternal salvation.  

          He looked at me and arched his eyebrow.  “Aren’t you supposed to be concentrating on -- other duties?” he said, the meaning in his voice plain.  

          “I can do both!” I said.  He shrugged, looking skeptical.

          I was hurt; I turned my back on this guy, who looked uglier and uglier by the moment.  I dismissed him as a pompous jerk.  I convinced myself that I could still do it all.  

          A few months ago, I discovered a talk by Gordon B. Hinckley, the man I considered to be a modern-day prophet of God.  I was twelve when he gave this talk; two years later I got angry when a boy dismissed my goal to become a missionary.   Hinckley gave this talk during the Priesthood Session of General Conference; only the men were allowed to attend.  

“Now I wish to say something to bishops and stake presidents concerning missionary service. It is a sensitive matter. There seems to be growing in the Church an idea that all young women as well as all young men should go on missions. We need some young women. They perform a remarkable work. They can get in homes where the elders cannot.

I confess that I have two granddaughters on missions. They are bright and beautiful young women. They are working hard and accomplishing much good. Speaking with their bishops and their parents, they made their own decisions to go. They did not tell me until they turned their papers in. I had nothing to do with their decision to go.

Now, having made that confession, I wish to say that the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve are united in saying to our young sisters that they are not under obligation to go on missions. I hope I can say what I have to say in a way that will not be offensive to anyone. Young women should not feel that they have a duty comparable to that of young men. Some of them will very much wish to go. If so, they should counsel with their bishop as well as their parents. If the idea persists, the bishop will know what to do.

I say what has been said before, that missionary work is essentially a priesthood responsibility. As such, our young men must carry the major burden. This is their responsibility and their obligation.

We do not ask the young women to consider a mission as an essential part of their life’s program. Over a period of many years, we have held the age level higher for them in an effort to keep the number going relatively small. Again to the sisters I say that you will be as highly respected, you will be considered as being as much in the line of duty, your efforts will be as acceptable to the Lord and to the Church whether you go on a mission or do not go on a mission.

Now, that may appear to be something of a strange thing to say in priesthood meeting. I say it here because I do not know where else to say it. The bishops and stake presidents of the Church have now heard it. And they must be the ones who make the judgment in this matter.”  

Gordon B Hinckley, October 1997, “Some Thoughts On Temples, Retention of Converts, And Missionary Service”

          Gordon B Hinckley was a man that, as a fourteen-year-old girl, I considered a Prophet of God.  I discovered this talk a few months back and every-time that I think about it, I feel hurt.  I don’t why this talk hurts me so much, more than ten years after leaving Mormonism.  I suppose because as a fourteen-year old girl the idea of serving a mission struck me as one of the few accomplishments I could aim for in equal accord with men.  

          At the age of twelve I had been inducted into the Young Women program; the lessons about marriage and children were already starting to weigh me down.  And the thought of marriage terrified me; I wanted the luxury of waiting until I was at a reasonable age.  This luxury seemed denied to me in the Mormon world, as most of my fellow Young Women were getting married before the age of 21.  I had just seen the first of my peers get married off - she was eighteen, just a couple months out of high school, when she married a man who had noticed her a couple years earlier while serving his mission.  The ward made a huge fuss over my friend - they talked about her as the ultimate success, having fulfilled her highest potential at the precocious age of eighteen.  And while I was supposed to be happy for her, the thought of marriage at such a young age terrified me.  

          Serving a mission meant that I could defer the prospect of marriage for a few more years, until I was old enough to feel ready. I didn’t want to be married at a young age.  I wanted a life that included a little more than simply marriage and children.  I wanted something of my own; an education, maybe a career.  Some goal that was mine and mine alone.  I wanted to have it all.  

          And yet, even at the age of fourteen, the doors to a larger world were closed to me.  I wanted everything and yet the prophet was instructing the men in my life to hold me back from having it all.  

The Only Sin Worse Than Murder

          A couple weeks ago, I read “The Girls From Fourth Ward” by Donna Banta.  The book was a dark romp into the world of teenaged Mormon girls, complete with the bishop from hell.  One of the scenes that lingered in my mind was a conversation between the four girls about the consequences of leaving the Mormon church.  Mormon theology teaches that the only sin worse than murder is renouncing the teachings of the church.  In the mixed-up minds of these four teenaged girls, this teaching somehow justified the murder of a bishop who was acting as an obstacle to fulfilling their potential as ideal Mormon women (and achieving access to the highest level of Heaven).  This example is extreme and one that I hope is relegated to the pages of fiction.  But the conversation in this book brought up very painful memories of just how afraid I was when I began questioning my faith.  

          When I was sixteen, and my faith was just beginning to crack, the missionaries were asked to teach my Sunday School class for a week.  Being the missionaries, they decided to use the opportunity to show off their knowledge of the Gospel.  We were treated to an overview of the Gospel and the three-fold mission of the Church: perfect the saints, preach the Gospel to the world, and redeem the dead.

          Then the missionaries started talking about the levels of heaven.  I grew up learning about the Telestial, Terrestrial, and Celestial Kingdoms but I had heard very little about Outer Darkness, which was a fate too awful for my mind to even comprehend.

          “Don’t worry.” the missionaries assured my class.  “It’s almost impossible to get sent to Outer Darkness.  You have to either kill someone or renounce the teachings of the Church.  And even murder is forgivable in some situations.”

          Uh oh.  I sat there on my hard plastic chair, painfully aware that I was in the process of committing the only sin worse than murder.  The only sin that meant irrevocable exile to Outer Darkness.  I felt as though I had been punched in the gut.  The rest of the day was a blur as I mulled over the lesson and all of its implications on my life.  

          I was upset for a while.  Upset and terrified.  But as the lesson began to sink in, I began to get angry.  Really angry.  Boiling, red-hot anger that started at the top of my head and crawled its way down my body.  I knew that what I was doing -- asking questions of my religion and expecting rational answers -- was not a sin.  The fact that I had received no answer, the fact that logic dictated that there could be no proof, did not mean that I was a bad human being.  And yet, as part of Mormon Church, this sin of mine was worse than killing another human being.  I began to see the Church in a different light; I could no longer rationalize its goodness.

          I reached my limit that day.  I was tired; tired of feeling like I was less faithful, less worthy, simply because the answers I had received were not the “correct” answers.  This lesson tipped the balance from grief about my lack of faith to anger at an unforgiving authoritarian religion.  This anger gave me the courage to start my journey out of Mormonism, as I began to untangle the many threads woven throughout my up-bringing.  A year after this lesson, I made a permanent break with the church.  I am grateful that I managed to find the courage to break away, even while faced with the threat of absolute damnation.  But for every person that does manage to come to terms with their lack of belief, there are ten more that stay because they are too afraid to commit the one sin worse than murder.  

Learning Not Very Useful Truths

“There is a temptation for the writer or the teacher of Church history to want to tell everything, whether it is worthy or faith promoting or not.  Some things that are true are not very useful.”¹  

Boyd K Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles

          As a faithful Mormon girl, I was warned to never read literature concerning the Mormon church that had not been approved by the Church.  The leaders taught us that Satan was looking to lead faithful Mormons astray.  To maintain the faith, I needed to stay in the warm, cozy confines of Church-sanctioned truth.  And I believed the warnings.  Straying outside the confines of Church literature never even occurred to me.  I didn’t leave the Church because I read “anti”-Mormon literature.  I left because the attitudes within the Church didn’t feel right and I had a hunch that there was a wider world waiting for me outside the confines of a rigid belief system.  

          I only learned about the dirty secrets of Mormon history after leaving.  I was in my mid-twenties when I learned about Joseph Smith’s 33 wives, a truth that directly contradicted the myth of Joseph and Emma’s love story.²  I am still learning about the many permutations of the First Vision, which is a “not-very-useful truth” that casts an unforgiving light on the true origins of Mormonism.³  As a person who was trained in genetics, I am painfully aware of the fact that there is no proof that the civilizations described in the Book of Mormon ever existed.⁴  The list of “not-very-useful truths” about the Mormon Church is a mile long.  And the majority of these facts are unbeknownst to my family.  To mention these truths to my family would expose me to anger and the accusation of being “anti”-Mormon.  True or not, even the slightest hint of criticism would be an affront to my family and their religion.  

          When I learned these truths, I felt betrayed by the church I had grown up in.  Learning the truth strengthened my conviction that I had made the right choice in leaving.  But I learned these truths only after leaving; why then should these issues matter so much to me?  

          The reason I care so much about the “not-very-useful” truths is because the actions of Mormon authorities --- to bury the past in secrecy --- infantilizes members.  I was raised to place blind faith in authorities; now I know these authorities to be dishonest.  The tendency to place blind trust in authorities is a trait that has lingered even past my break with the Church.  As people, we deserve the right to question the actions of authorities.  We deserve the right to question if authorities are acting in our best interest.  However, the Mormon church forbids dissension of any sort; criticism of church authorities is a very serious matter and can lead to excommunication.

1 The Mantle Is Far, Far Greater Than The Intellect

2 http://www.wivesofjosephsmith.org/

3 http://mormonthink.com/firstvisionweb.htm

4 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genetics_and_the_Book_of_Mormon