One of the ways I know God loves me is because He sent me a seminary teacher we'll call Tevye. (Think Fiddler on the Roof). I would come around as my 17 year old self, bent out of shape with a thousand questions birthed in discoveries I'd made regarding the more challenging subjects in our cannon and history. I was only half interested in the answer. Because he knew that, and because he was and is a good teacher, our conversations would go kind of like this:
Me: Hey! Tevye! Why do we discriminate against gay people and when will my mom ever start respecting me and why do only men hold the priesthood?
Tevye: We don't, when you grow up, and because God said so.
I hated those answers and would do everything I could to get another response out of him, but in his wisdom he ultimately refused to teach me anything I was not ready for. Eventually there came a time in my life where I was ready to accept point number three: because God said so. This is a crucial point of development in any thinking Mormon's life, but today I want to take the opportunity to address this double edged sword of an answer.
Our church is a top down, patriarchal order church with God at the helm and men in nearly all positions of public authority. This is our religion. Why did God make it this way? I'm not any more certain now than I was in Tevye's classroom, but I know He did. This structure can be intimidating for a lot of us. The church is full of and run by people striving to reconcile ourselves to God's will and doctrine. Throughout this divinely instituted process those in any form of leadership inevitably throw in various elements of personal opinion. Every now and then we get someone in authority that makes it easy to mistake this doctrinal truth of a patriarchal order for a gag order on individuality. What we, the average LDS citizens of the kingdom sometimes forget is that this church is also demarcated from other churches in part by the miracle that is personal revelation through the Gift of the Holy Ghost. God gives us this sacred gift at baptism because He knows that, in the words of Elder Holland, "...imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with. How frustrating that must be for Him." (General Conference, April 2013)
When I find myself retrogressing to my 17 year old days of caring more about getting worked up than getting resolution I find it refreshing to take a beat and consider that God is aware. He knows about that Stake President that thought he was being super helpful when he suggested that you lose weight to get married, about the Bishop that always made you feel really uncomfortable-- you didn't know why, and the young women's leader who taught you that if you're skirt was too tight you were responsible for that deacon's impure thoughts. Because He knows so intimately (think Gethsemane here) the frailties of human beings, He gave us the checks and balances of common sense and the Gift of His Spirit. He expects us to use all three in our quest to become like Him.
Continuing with this line of logic I want to illuminate a concept that will help us, the doctrinally enamored yet sometimes religiously frustrated, to maintain our stronghold on the iron rod. That concept is this:
There are appropriate and even crucial times to speak your peace.
Because it was brought up several times in the discussion that followed "A Letter to Singles Ward Bishops" I'm going to use the aforementioned weight/age comment as launching pads for this revolutionary concept, though its application is broad indeed. Here's the scenario:
You are in a private interview with your Stake President and currently doing your best to evade the title coined by the late, great Brigham Young, "menace to society". Just in case that alone doesn't feel uncomfortable enough, imagine that after he finishes asking you intensely personal questions regarding your worthiness in what often seems to me to be a shockingly casual manner, this man then sets down the manual and takes it upon himself to start grilling you about your personal appearance, your weight and your age. Cresting the vista of the entirety of your vulnerable soul in an environment seemingly inescapable for you, he decides to kindly solve all your problems by suggesting that a few less M&Ms and a fresh haircut could lead you straight into matrimonial bliss.
What is your reaction?
I don't know that I've ever had it quite this bad, but in similar situations I go through stages.
1. Awkwardly smile and laugh, wondering if this can really be what he intends to communicate.
2. Assume positive intent and therefore readily accept whatever he says without full consideration-- he means well.
3. Work my way out of the conversation and the office.
4. Go home and chew it over, decide I really was right to feel upset by the situation, then rant to a friend about it.
Might I suggest we forego that whole process and snap out of this weird enchanted spell of deference we sometimes find ourselves in and try this:
1. Preparation is key. As a Latter Day Saint today we need to know our religion. There are so many reasons this is the case, but in this particular hypothetical, knowing our religion allows us to discern between doctrine and personal opinion. When is it appropriate to accept, "Because God said so," as a valid conclusion to the discussion? In addition to doctrinal preparation, we need to enter situations like these full of the Spirit of God. He will let you know what's going on. When everything seems weird and you can't put your finger on it and you want to do something, but you don't know what it is, God offers clarity. He will help you discern when well meaning disciples make plain their human frailty. Listen-- to the leader, to your soul, and to God. He'll help you label what it is that's happening.
2. Practice healthy communication. This is something I have been taught from the womb, but it took me years to realize that these skills are useful and appropriate when working with Priesthood (or other) leaders. There's a formula. It goes like this. "When you____, I feel _____." In this particular hypothetical you might say, "When you tell me that losing weight will help me find a husband I feel misunderstood, undervalued, and insulted." You can also try, "I appreciate your concern, but I have to respectfully disagree." Then you can assert your position. "I feel the issue of my singleness is complex, deeply personal and tangental to my weight at best. I feel hurt that you would insinuate that only fit women or men deserve love." Or, "I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing. I understand that you are trying to help me, but I need you to know that you are causing a lot more damage than good."
3. The third part hearkens back to the chocolate cake example from "A Letter to Singles Ward Bishops". Remember? What you do is important, but how you do it is crucial. In this case there are a couple keys. For maximum return on your investment, be calm, collected and respectful. This is where a lot of issues arise. We get too accustomed to biting our tongues that when we finally stop it seems to come in a blind rage as we're walking out the door. The idea here is to speak up early and often. The second key element to the delivery of your message is to stand your ground. This does not mean to be aggressive, or passive aggressive for that matter. It means that when you finish your,"When you____ I feel____" statement there's going to be that super awkward feeling in the air, because, let's face it, this isn't the way things typically go down for those who feel comfortable making pointed comments or evaluating personal worth by assessing a person's weight. When you come face to face with the silence, the cocked eyebrow, the flabbergasted look or whatever spastic way the person in authority may respond, do not under any circumstances renege. You are absolutely entitled to speak your peace. This leader will choose to do whatever he does with it, but do not give in to the fight or flight response. Calmly inhabit your space in life, right there in his office chair and let him chew it over. Don't make a joke of your feelings, don't let him tell you, "Oh, lighten up". You feel how you feel for a reason, and in this hypothetical the reason is because you've just been unwittingly insulted on a deeply personal level. The uncomfortableness that ensues is not because of you, it's because of the way you have been treated.
This is hard and uncomfortable and you're totally going to be bucking the system when you first start out, but want to know the awesome thing? The first time is the hardest time. Once you've stood up for yourself in this way you are instantaneously transformed into a person less likely to be treated poorly the next time. You are giving a voice to the hundreds or thousands of members who have felt the way you feel in a similar moment. People walk away from the unspeakably valuable gift of Christ's gospel every day because we don't know how to be who we are and be Mormon. When you speak your truth you're taking one more step towards closing that gap, and that's a beautiful thing.
So take courage. Study out how you really feel about Christ's doctrines. Inscribe them on your heart so they're ready in those moments of need. Study up, particularly on how much God loves you and What Christ is willing to go through for you to be treated well, to be safe, to be happy, to be free. Then, speak your Truth with courage and conviction, because the Spirit testifies of Truth.
