Who are you talking to?--Fixing the problem with the way Mormons teach.

For 30 years now I have been participating in lessons taught in our churches. For the last seven years since returning from my mission I've been called as a teacher, almost without exception. I am being honest when I say there are few things I love more than teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. These years of lesson plans and Sunday sermons have lead me to a lot of thinking about one question:

Why are many of the lessons taught in our church so awful? 

When I say awful, what I mean is--difficult to engage with and ineffective in producing spiritual growth. The contrast these decades of lessons strike with the mind bogglingly gorgeous, inspirational, moving, powerful principles of Christ's gospel is befuddling to me to say the least. We show up weekly to these meetings, sit through three hours of talking, then go home, unchanged. Meanwhile the miracles of Christianity remain before us, untouched. The resources and remedies for our problems go unused. The opportunities we have to connect with others in our community in meaningful and strengthening ways are missed--not always, but often enough. That, to me, is awful.

Today, after a decade of seriously turning this question over in my mind, I had an epiphany in my sacrament meeting--or rather, in the foyer where I was sitting for the last half of sacrament meeting. But before the epiphany, a couple things about me.

I hate Mother's Day. More accurately put, I hate attending church on mother's day. Every year I seem to forget what a terrible idea it is for me to participate in services that day, and every year I go to church and listen to talks about the healthy homes my fellow Mormons grew up in, their attentive mothers, the importance of being a good homemaker, how exciting it is to look forward to marriage and the crowning glory that one day I too will achieve of becoming a mother. I'm even given gifts to preemptively honor my dedication to hearth and home. Every year I go home after these lessons and cry.

This year I was half way though the first hour when I realized that I needed to just leave for the day, but I was asked to participate in a musical number, then give the closing prayer to our last meeting. I ended up staying, gritting my teeth through the entire experience. When I left church, I didn't make it home before the tears came. I pulled over and sat alone, staring into the ocean a while to process some thoughts. Why am I so upset? I asked myself. No one else seemed upset. After a few minutes of reflection I formulated the sentence. Well, I grew up in a home with very distracted or absent divorced parents, then I married a man who guilted me into becoming pregnant, treated me terribly while I was experiencing the miscarriage of his baby, then left me. 

Yeah, that would do it. 

I'm an artist. I'm a writer. I'm a teacher, a designer, a poet, a lover of the ocean, and a really good friend. I'm also the product of a dysfunctional marriage, the only child in my large family that still attends church, the mother of a miscarried child and a 30 year old divorcee attending a singles ward. This piece isn't about the good things or the hard things in my personal life, though there are plenty of both. It's about a problem that I often experience in church as a byproduct of some of my life experiences. This problem was perfectly illustrated by the experience I had in church today.

I don't really need to explain the details of the talk I walked out of today. We've all had the - I'm getting married in two days so I have incredibly helpful things to say about the institution of marriage- talk (which, when you think about it, is a lot like asking a chicken to explain what it's like to be in tortilla soup or a senior in college to give a seminar on what it's like to live in the real world, but I digress). I want to pause here for a moment to say--it's not that girl's fault. She was excited and happy and in love and stressed out of her mind with wedding plans, I'm sure. More significantly, she was following a clearly established trail blazed by hundreds of thousands before her in terms of acceptable behavior for that moment in time.

I believe that she is happy. I believe that she is in love, that she doesn't understand why people would choose not to experience this journey that she is embarking upon. I believe her when she says that she believes the risk, the pain, the sacrifice is all worth it, and I am happy for her. She is in a beautiful, sacred, special time in her life. That being said, I walked out of the meeting half way through her talk for a reason. That reason is the pain of staying exceeded my nourishment. Also, I felt like I did not belong, and I am tired of feeling like I don't belong. When she was preparing her remarks on marriage, she did not have me in mind. Not all talks can be written for me. That's fair and I can deal, but let me ask you this: who was that talk written for? Who did it help? And (here's the one we never ask) who did it hurt? This is the epiphany I had.

We, the teachers of lessons and givers of talks, fail to ask ourselves one critical question: Who am I talking to?

This is basic teaching skills 101. A lesson on long division is pointless when given to a college level calculus class. The most thoughtfully crafted lesson on the art of origami would be lost on a group that showed up for a guitar lesson. For the guy who just sliced his hand while making dinner, the only lesson he could possibly care about is one on stopping blood flow. This problem isn't just with marriage talks. There are more sensitive subjects than those close to home for me. This is a problem we have across the board in our educational practices as a culture.

Who is your audience? What do they need? Do you know?

If I had to describe the audience that the majority of the lessons I have heard in my life are written for, the list would look something like this:

Untouched by any serious sin.
Rock solid in their faith.
Raised in a happy, healthy home.
Part of an active LDS family.
Republican (probably).
Extremely well versed in scripture and church history.
Desirous of marriage and children at Divinity's earliest convenience.
Heterosexual and disgusted by homosexuals and homosexuality.
Incapable of or disinterested in abstract thought or innovative, authentic approaches to discussion of gospel principles.
Content, maybe even happy.

So... maybe there's a ward somewhere that looks like this, but all I can say definitively is that this sure as hell doesn't describe me. Who are these people? Have you ever met them? Can we do some scientific tests on them to see if they are human? Here's a list for you.

Experimenting with sex, alcohol and drugs.
Struggling in school, work and/or personal relationships.
Experiencing depression.
Dealing with eating disorders.
Struggling with health problems.
Devout LDS feminist.
Family member dying of cancer.
Struggles with mental health or loves someone who does.
Touched by divorce.
Victims of domestic abuse--physical, sexual, emotional, mental (the statistic on this is still 25% of women, by the way)
Victims of rape.
Debating whether they should come back to church next week.
Suicidal.
Unfaithful.
Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered or queer.
Bored out of their minds.
Confused.
Lonely.
Closet racist.
Had an abortion.
Addicted.
Gave a child up for adoption.
Childless by choice.
Intensely introverted.
Need I go on?

President Eyring once shared this sentiment. "When you meet someone, treat them as if they were in serious trouble, and you will be right more than half the time." It's not just me. We are a church of sinners, misfits, pain ridden, beautiful, stressed out, jacked up, flawed human beings who have this ridiculous habit of pretending like we have it all together, and it's messing us all up.

The congregation I described above? It's your congregation, and mine. For each point listed above I have a name in mind of a Latter-Day Saint I personally know that correlates. The problem is this: we teach lessons about families and honoring the priesthood to the girl who was raped by her father, the Young Men's President. We teach lessons on the importance of missionary work to the young man who is denied the opportunity, despite his righteous desires, because of a weight condition. We lecture the Elder's Quorum about their priesthood duty of selecting a woman to care for and to help them avoid sexual sin to the man who is as attracted to women as you are to a incontinent geriatric.

Do we need to teach the gospel truth? Of course we do. Is our faith composed of true, solid, worthwhile principles? Yes. I for one believe it is. Do we have to teach them the way we have become accustomed to? As if someone, somewhere may struggle with the lesson topic, but certainly no one we know, no one in the room? If we want anyone to get anything out of it, and if we want anyone to stay, we can't. There is a way to teach truth that doesn't hurt so much and that doesn't do so much damage. There's a way to teach truth so that it heals.

For me, the good of the restored gospel does outweigh the pain that comes with it, but this may not be the case for some. If you find yourself unwilling to explore that reality, ok, but don't you dare act shocked and bewildered when this generation of millennials, raised in and deeply influenced by the latter-days, walks away because the lessons we teach are not written for the challenges, realities struggles and pains they face. And for the love of all that is holy, don't send cookies to try to bring them back. The moment for reconnoissance was years ago.

This is what I ask.

The next time you are called upon to teach a lesson, please, see the people in front of you. Think about your ward or your class, specifically. If you don't know a single one, that's a problem too, and you know where to start. Once you start to really see the people in front of you, pray that you will know how to teach these vital, life sustaining, uplifting, beautiful doctrines in a way that your audience will benefit; in a way that everyone can leave edified.

It can be overwhelming, at first, to look on your ward with this new intent. It's hard to see the pain in people's eyes. It's uncomfortable to recognize dysfunction, but (and this part is important) that is what the gospel of Jesus Christ is for. Whatever it takes to access the Atonement, I vote we go with that, and I'm pretty sure alienating those who suffer is not helping in that quest. Step up. Speak up. Wake up, because I'm not the only one. You're not the only one. You're a perfectly flawed human who, like the rest of us, struggles to understand the concept that in Christ's church, nobody belongs more than you.

The Selfish Lie

In the gospel of Jesus Christ there are two elements constantly at play. One is what Christ taught. The other is how we interpret and put into practice what Christ taught. As an LDS people we have "righteousness" down to a science. It shows up as a lengthy list of appropriate beverages, proper hemlines, ages when things ought to happen (or not happen), how often one shaves his face, what callings a person has served in, and a lengthy list of attributes we endlessly strive to emulate. In the moments where these yard sticks come out, publicly or in private, I can't help but imagine God slapping His palm to His holy forehead and wondering once again, "How can I ever get them to see the forest through the trees?" It's true, Coke isn't really healthy and callings have the potential to refine us into more Christ centered people, but there is a "looking beyond the mark" I would like to address today, and I want to do it through the extensively perpetuated lie of selfishness, and the truth about charity.

Each individual on the earth is not only entitled to, but responsible for working out his or her own health and happiness. It's a stewardship--like a visiting or home teaching calling. That's not a lesson we're taught in Sunday school, but it is an eternal truth. We know the lessons on charity, sacrifice, sanctification, the refiner's fire, selflessness, meekness, humility and pride, but I have never been there for the lesson about how to care for oneself or a mere mention of how incredibly important it is. As we put into practice the aforementioned principles I fear we neglect this key concept of caring for ones self. We cannot have one without the other. The river will run dry, and who do we expect to replenish the river?

When we hop on Hollywood's train wreck and assume a spouse or lover will somehow fill every nook and cranny of our depleted, love starved souls that we've spent years neglecting in an effort to be "selfless", we set ourselves and our relationships up for dramatic and inevitable failure. Ask yourself, "What do I need to feel replenished and ready to serve my neighbor?" If you don't know, how can you expect your partner to contribute in any way? And really, is it his or her responsibility?

No. No it's not.

It's our job to know ourselves-- what we don't like, what builds us up, how we handle stress, what brings us down, and it's our job to make sure we get plenty of what we need. Without this grounding we are ill tuned and unbalanced instruments in the hands of God. If you are lucky enough to have a loving, devoted partner who is a perfect yin to your yang, the stars have aligned and you have special help on your journey to self discovery, but you will always be the captain of this ship.

But what about God? God will replenish me for my faithful devotion, right?

This is true, but in order to fully realize this blessing we need to understand the character of God. I believe in a God of miracles. He parted the red sea, forgave sins, raised the dead, overcame physical and spiritual death and created the platypus--all of which is nothing compared to the way He can heal a broken heart. God can do all things, but He has His methods, and they are typically to work through logical, natural means. This means the blessings He sends us are more likely to be things like finding an extra hour to nap in a day that was so jam packed we never would have thought it would be possible to get in that greatly needed rest, and less like making a day 25 hours long for our resting pleasure. There's a story of a man in a flood. He climbs on the roof of a house and prays to be rescued. As the water rises first a man on a raft stops by, then a man in a boat, then a helicopter. All three tell him to climb aboard, but the man's answer? "It's okay. God will save me. You go ahead."

God will replenish you, if you will take the nap, the extended hand, the priesthood blessing, the art class, the vacation, the new dress, the opportunity to further your career so you can have a fulfilling job, or the opportunity to say, "No, I just can't help you with that right now."

To be selfish is to act in ones own best interest with no regard or concern for the wellbeing of others. It is a focus on self that extends beyond coming to understand oneself and comes at the cost of compassion. It's when your seven year old self eats two ice cream sundaes in front of your little sister because you can, and you know she will hate it, even though the second ice cream sundae is guaranteed to make you sick.

To be selfless is to recognize that there are times when it is appropriate or necessary for your needs to come second, and that that's okay. (*Notice this does not say"become non-existent".) It's when a new parent is exhausted beyond comprehension but still gets out of bed to hold the crying baby.

And now, for the truth about charity. Moroni 7 teaches us that charity is, "the pure love of Christ." But what does that mean? I've been pondering that lately and this is what I've settled on. Charity is when you see people the way God and Christ see them. Because you see the good in them, the kindness and service that naturally follows is a simple byproduct. It's not a forced, mechanized action performed inauthentically in order to check it off the "how to get righteous" list. It's love. Real true, honest to goodness love, and when it comes from that place, it's nowhere near as draining. The thing to remember, the thing we somehow always manage to forget is that God wants us to experience that love too, and He's counting on us to show that love--to others, yes, but perhaps most importantly to ourselves.

You're Going To Be A Mother

Hey, remember that young women's lesson that started off like this?

"Now girls, every one of us is a daughter of God who has unique needs, wants and desires. Those are God given and you have every right to find your place in this world, to make your life what you want it to be. One day you may choose to be a mother. If this is the path you choose to walk the day will come when you will begin a sacred life of renunciation where your needs will never come first again. You will devote your time, your life, your love and your heart to your children. It's rewarding beyond anything you can comprehend, but incredibly challenging, so make sure you get your head on straight before you get there. Learn what you need to be balanced, to be healthy, to be strong and stable. Learn how to love deeply and to forgive in sincerity. Live a full life. Chase your dreams, get your education, travel, take chances, make mistakes and learn from them. That way, if you have those babies, when their lives become even more challenging and complex than the life you live now, you will have the answers rooted deep in your soul and be able to share with them. A mother is a teacher. Go out and learn. Live fully so you can enrich the lives of those God brings into your world."

Remember that? Yeah, me neither.

Maybe we can do something about that. 

Let's talk about sex, baby.

When I was on my mission I was at a district meeting where our Zone Leader was setting up a role-play for us to practice our missionarying skills. The Elder started off by saying, "Sister Frowfrow, you will be a nun and your daughter..." at which point I confusedly blurted out, "What do you mean, daughter? Nuns don't have sex."

My simple declaration of an obvious snafu in his proposed scenario was met with one muted chuckle (from my companion) and four sets of nineteen year old diverted eyes. After the ensuing five second awkward silence the Zone Leader proffered, "Way to be bold Sister Frowfrow."

Mormons are uncomfortable talking about sex, which is terribly ironic for three reasons:
1. We have a lot of it. We have notoriously large families, and I certainly hope by now that we all know where babies come from.
2. We have the most specific, direct mandate that shapes what is and is not appropriate for our sexual behavior of any group I'm personally aware of. If we don't adhere to this code of conduct there are ramifications, immediate and eternal.
3. We are, in our own way, a very sex-positive people. We have our lessons on abstinence and fidelity, but the core is always that we save that experience for our partner because it is so special, wonderful, beautiful and bonding. Still, despite these seemingly obvious facts we somehow find ourselves listening to, or perhaps even repeating the mantra, "Sex is uncontrollable, sex is scary, sex will destroy you, sex is stronger than you ever could be. Avoid it at all costs, then give it to someone you love."

Today I want to suggest that there is a better way, and that there are several issues that arise from this kind of rhetoric. Take for example, this one:

It's an ugly, uncomfortable byproduct of the culture we share that boys and girls, men and women are getting married because they don't want to, "mess up." We're taught that sex is such in incredibly overwhelming force to be reckoned that we we may as well dive headfirst into an unknown eternity to avoid it overtaking us. I had a particularly sexually curious friend who was actually counseled by her bishop that she should, "Just go ahead and get married," when she wasn't even dating anyone--the theory being it was better for her to marry the next Peter Priesthood that came her way than make the colossal mistake of sleeping with the wrong guy. Please tell me you see the irony in this--the terrifying, disturbing, damning irony. And PS, the "next Peter Priesthood" she did in fact marry reportedly now, 5+ years later, has a porn habit and a tough time holding down a job.

This point in the post seems like the right time for me to declare that I agree with the following statement from Elder Holland as it applies to believing members of our faith who take the opportunity to knowingly investigate forbidden paths. "We declare that one who uses the God-given body of another without divine sanction abuses the very soul of that individual...In exploiting the body of another--which means exploiting his or her soul--one desecrates the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which saved that soul and which makes possible the gift of eternal life...Please never say, 'Who does it hurt? Why not a little freedom? I can transgress now and repent later.' Please don't be so foolish and so cruel. You cannot with impunity crucify Christ afresh." (Personal Purity, Jeffrey R. Holland, October General Conference, 1998.)

Are you freaked out? Because I was. No one wants that, and it was partially in order to avoid such a graphic, heinous act as to, "crucify Christ afresh", but also to satisfy a curiosity that had swelled to life impeding magnitude that I married. He drove a VW van, was a returned missionary, grew a substantial man sized beard and said things like, "You are the apple of my eye and the reason some people think I'm asthmatic." That was good enough for me. Besides, when he kissed me I was transported to a world I had never known where all the broken bits of my past were bathed in a golden/pinkish light where their sharp edges only made them shimmer. As far as I was concerned, God could work out the details. (*For a full account on how that hasty decision has impacted my life, check out my other blog, Devout Yet Divorced Mormons.)

But there are some details God doesn't work out for us--some He wants us to work out for ourselves. A healthy relationship with sex, I contest, is one of those things. To me, it all begins with one key shift:

Abandon the fear.

By preaching that women need to guard their carnal treasure and men need to avert their eyes we are instilling within our children/peers/students/friends that this natural, God given desire to build intimacy with another human being, to be loving, kind, curious, open, vulnerable, and to have all that culminate in a sexual expression of love is something fearful. We are promoting the idea that sex--down and dirty, instant gratification, Satan's version of sex is stronger than God's version of marital sexual intimacy. In instructing our children to beware! Guard themselves! Look away! We are adding fear and shame to Satan's list of tools to taint the most sacred, holy, enjoyable, bonding experience known to man.

I get why it's used so often. Fear is powerful, and it works... except for when it doesn't. Depending on a few key factors, like how aggressively the fear card is played by an authority figure, how curious or forthright the child is and how much opportunity is given, fear may or may not work as a means of controlling the behavior of acting in sexual deviance... but we're forgetting something. The whole point of life is for us to become something new, right? The Plan of Salvation is for us to grow and learn and change into better creatures so that one day we can abide a celestial glory-- not for us to be so afraid of punishment that we simply don't commit an act. It's about changing our thoughts, our hearts, our desires, and the way we do or don't do something. If we want the Spirit to work with us, we've got to stop lying about sex. We've got to teach our children this:

At various times of your life, or even the month, week or day, you will want to have sex. The desire will be strong, because it's spiritual, physical and biological. Having sex and all the things that lead up to sex will release chemicals in your body and brain that are scientifically proven to be as powerful as narcotics. Know that this is a part of you--a good, healthy part of you, but know also that you are stronger than your desire to procreate. It cannot overtake you, break you, or make you into something beneath who you really are without you allowing it to. It only gets that kind of play in Nicolas Sparks movies and Satan's game plan (which, by the way, are remarkably similar when you really think about it).

At any given moment in your life, you are the master of your destiny. You can and will make choices. When the time, or more likely times come for you to decide, Will I have sex today? I want you to remember this: you are the only one who can make that decision. You are the only one who will. It's not the media's fault or the responsibility of the boy/girl you are with. It's not your parent's fault for saying too much or too little. It's not something that just happens and it's not something that has no consequence. Look in your soul and identify how you really feel about what it means to have sex, how and when you want that to happen, and know that you are absolutely in control of whether you live up to that standard or not. If you have a weakness, fortify yourself. Set up appropriate safety nets and boundaries to keep yourself on the path you want to be on. Pray for help and surround yourself with good things, but never give in to the damning suggestion that you are a victim to your own body or that a suitable substitute for self control is prematurely diving into an eternally binding commitment with ramifications far beyond the reality you can presently comprehend.

Go for a jog, take up a hobby, reach out to someone in service, read a good book, fill your mind with the endless curiosities of the gorgeous world around you, learn something new, push yourself in another direction until you achieve things you didn't think were possible. There is more to life. There is more to love. There is more to be experienced while you wait for the right time and place to healthily enjoy sex.

Asserting yourself with priesthood leaders, appropriately.

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.

And Now, A Letter to Singles Ward Members

First of all, hello world, and --woah. I was not expecting that kind of response to "A Letter to Singles Ward Bishops".

Second of all, see! I knew I wasn't the only one who felt this way!

Third of all, we need to talk.

Now, all that I said about bishops in singles wards is true. I stand by it 100%. That being said, I now have a few words to say to the (apparently massive) group of young single adults-- or perhaps not-so-young single adults-- that responded to my implied, "Can I get an amen?"

Judging by the comments on the original post, many of us are feeling so completely overwhelmed/bullied/misunderstood/undervalued that we are finding ourselves gravitating toward what admittedly appear at times to be greener pastures. Let me start by saying, yeah. I see where you're coming from. You're right. Living the gospel has its inherent challenges, but rising to to the occasion of avoiding vices, bridling passions, magnifying callings and giving up forever sexy underwear only to be met with mangled messages about the worth of your soul and how it relates to your marital status is bunk at best. When you leave what should be the feet of our Savior each week with a head full of undesired marital advice and a solid set of spiritual empty calories, it's enough to make anyone indignant. 



You have every right to be frustrated, disheartened, upset and to want things to change. I am right there with you! However, this business about sitting back silently bitter, skulking off or angrily exiting in search of a better life, we've got to knock that off.

I come from a very large family where I am the only kid who still attends church. My siblings who have deliberately left the church have chosen lives that suit them. They are moral, conscientious folks who have found peace in the way they live. I love them and am happy for them. As for me, I have certainly run the gamete  in terms of questioning my faith. (When you have 11 siblings and two parents that have left the church it's kind of inevitable.) All that is to say, I understand and respect that some of you feel a legitimate need to leave the church. I wish you luck in your lives and sincerely hope you find peace-- but this post is about the people who, in their heart of hearts, at the end of every day and after a long week of discouragement find solace and replenishing in the doctrines of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. This post is for the people like me.

If you get discouraged over the marriage pressure issue, getting kicked out of your ward because you're "too old", have gotten divorced and have no idea where you fit in or are otherwise feeling disgruntled with cultural elements of this church that is incomprehensibly expansive in scope but sometimes incredibly narrow minded and always will be imperfect, this is what I have to say to you:

1. God knows you on a deeper level than is presently fathomable to the mortal mind. He is aware of this moment in your life and He will not leave you. This I know for sure.

2. You are not alone. Not only is God there, but sitting in your congregation each week there are people --and often not the ones you'd expect-- who are having similar experiences to yours.

3. When it seems no one notices, no one understands, and no one cares, God does. Your efforts are neither wasted nor unwitnessed.

4.  This church so desperately needs you to be present, invested, involved and vocal.

Think this through for a moment. If in every ward the people who feel the way you and I do keep their mouths shut and walk away in search of the magical land of Truth Minus Cultural Mishaps, how will the culture of the church ever shift to live up to the doctrinal mandates? How will any of us feel less alone? How can any of us survive? 

5. We cannot always rely on outside sources to contribute to our spiritual well being.

It shouldn't be this way. It's not fair. It's not what we or the natural man in us want. I'm convinced it's not really what God has in mind either. He favors a Zion like society. However, it is Godly to take seriously the responsibility for nourishing ourselves spiritually, and we can do it with God's help, even when it's a spiritual party of two. Trust me. If God and I can pull me up by my bootstraps after the year 2012 in my life, you can make it through your rivers of sorrow too.

So this week, get in touch with God and when you do, ask Him how He feels about you. Ask Him if He loves you less for being single or childless or for having your addictions. Ask Him if He knows what's in your heart, then ask Him who around you uniquely needs your help. Open your mind and heart and listen. Then, no matter what anyone says this Sunday about marriage or babies or age or their spiritual experience on their jet ski, remember how you feel with God. Remember that all God's kids are mortal (including you and me), and remember that you have a right to be where you are, to feel how you feel and to have your own personal relationship with Heavenly Father. Walk tall in your little patch of the vineyard, and stop looking for the door. We need you. I need you. The church and the world need you to let your light so shine.

A Letter to Singles Ward Bishops

I remember one Sunday I was at BYU in Provo. I was standing in some line with a few kids I had just met in my ward, pretending to be excited about the ever enticing "free food!" gimmick we Mormons are awfully fond of.  I was making chit chat with a reasonably attractive, nice young man when one of the counselors of the bishopric walked by and said, "Now remember, enjoy the food, but don't forget to look for your eternal companion!" The kid and I smiled at each other awkwardly, made some joke about how we should get married, made it through the lunch line, then never spoke again.




Elder Boyd K. Packer once taught a lesson to a group of missionaries at a zone conference. (Full account  here.) The true story goes like this: Sister Packer bakes a beautiful cake. Elder Packer asks if anyone would like a piece. An Elder volunteers. He serves the slice of cake to the Elder on a crystal plate in a dignified manner and asks for another volunteer. While the next Elder is anxiously awaiting his slice Elder Packer rips the top off the cake with his bare hand and hurls it at the unsuspecting Elder, memorably proving the point that it's not what we do but how we do it.




There seems to be a great sense of concern over my demographic in the church of 18-30 and unmarried, and rightly so. We are tragically turning away from God at an alarming rate. Somewhere along the line, however, someone decided the way to fix this issue is to get us all married off. My feeling is that this direction comes from high up in the chain. I say this because most of the "get married" talks I've sat through come across to me as inauthentic and contrived, as if they were mandated by someone in authority. Even as a divorcee of 8 months I can say without hesitation, I believe in marriage. I believe it's Godly, I believe it's necessary and I believe it would help our inactivity rates in many instances. The doctrine of marriage and I are cool, but if I get one more piece of cake thrown at me when I didn't even volunteer for the object lesson, I'm going to become a lesbian and marry a woman, just to spite you.




Speaking generally for the body of LDS young single adults today (I've attended 11 singles wards over the course of 10 years, so I feel I can do so with some degree of authority) there are a couple things you should know.


1. Most of us want to get married. It's not because of, but in spite of the pressure put on us.

From what I can gather from the myriad of "get married" comments, talks, looks, jokes and jabs, the idea that my generation would rather play video games or travel or buy something unnecessarily shiny than get married seems to inhabit the consciousness of those in leadership. This is not true. We may enjoy video games or traveling or be pursuing school or career, but this is not why we aren't married. The majority of us want to be married because for most it's a natural part of the human experience to seek companionship. Also, we know it's one of God's greatest tools for cultivating divinity in His people. If we're attending church in this day and age as full grown adults we have our hearts set on Godly things. Give us a little credit. The pressure you're adding is doing nothing for us. Between the age appropriate, God given, biological drive for sex and the nearly palpable social pressure to take the plunge, not one of us will ever benefit from your, "Cowboy up and get 'er done" rhetoric. I don't need a Sunday school lesson to remind me that I'm behind in the race to familyhood. As for those of us who aren't interested in marriage, no public pep talk is going to change that, and the reasons we have are pretty much never as shallow as you seem to think. 

2. There was a caveat in that infamous Kimball quote.

It was 1976 when President Kimball said, "...it is certain that almost any good man and any good woman can have happiness and a successful marriage if both are willing to pay the price." (Ensign, March 1977, First Presidency Message.) This got a lot of play wherein it was paraphrased as, "You can be happily married to anyone, so stop being so picky." If you read the article in its entirety, that's actually exactly the opposite of what he was saying. My generation has the internet, so we can read the full quote that talks about being willing to, "pay the price", and we are all too familiar with the price of a poorly chosen mate, which brings me to my next point. 

3. We are traumatized by divorce.

Our parents are divorced, our siblings are divorced, our friends are divorced, and some of us are divorced, so you can't tell us, "Marriage is the most beautiful, celestial, Godly blessing that can be known to man," without reviving in at least 50% of us sharp edged memories that fly in the face of that statement, even if it is true in some cases. Even if we desperately want it to be true for us.

4. You're giving us all a complex.

"Are you dating anyone? Why not? That's really something you should be thinking about," is a direct quote from my singles ward bishop's counselor in a private interview in Provo. I was 19 at the time. There are two possible reactions to this kind of intrusion in our lives. We either walk away thinking, "I hate that guy" or "He's right. What's wrong with me?" Either way the thought is most certainly not, "Oh yeah, I hadn't thought of that!"  In one of my more recent singles wards there was a girl who we called the, "27 and not married girl" because it was like her catchphrase, always worked into conversation somehow, always spoken like it was one, long, burdensome word. I don't know how things are on the male end of this, but I have extensive, first hand experience as to what this kind of overt pressure is doing to the beautiful, faithful, humble, dying of frustration single women of the church. It's making us doubt ourselves, dis ourselves and decrease our lists of marital "must haves" 'till we settle for sub par.  


5. We are isolated, lonely and insecure. 

We need the refuge of church. In America we believe in being fine. Don't believe me? Next time a cashier asks how you are, tell them the truth. Let me know how that works out for you. Church is designed to be a home away form home. Singles wards especially are designed to be families. When the three hours set apart that week for God are riddled with comments like, "Are you dating? Why not? You really should be." or, "Cowboy up and get 'er done!" or, "Make sure you've got your priorities straight, " we start thinking about our hair and stop thinking about our neighbor. It's about as helpful as a glass of water for a man who is drowning. Please, please, please, stop it. 




In keeping with Abraham Lincoln's counsel, "He has a right to criticize who has a heart to help," I have some suggestions to help this problem. Actually, President Kimball has some suggestions for you, straight from that massively misinterpreted talk from the 70s. I was pleasantly surprised to find some of the best straight shooter advice I've received regarding marriage in the text as I reviewed it tonight. It's worth the full read, but the one point I'd like to highlight is from his "never failing formula" for a happy marriage, and it's exactly what we need. Are you ready for this?

Teach us to be unselfish, to forget ourselves, and to focus on the good of the family, our ward family. 

What we, the endangered demographic have been taught is to take care of ourselves. We need to be taught to receive kindness graciously and look out for our brother. We've been conditioned to approach church as a soiree. We need to be taught to commune with God intimately for three sacred hours on Sunday and then spend our week days and nights with those who uplift us. We've been taught that we need to be sexy and/or rich if we want to be worth anything. We need to be taught how to find the beauty and value in every person we interact with at church. This does not happen when we are perpetually being counseled, "Don't forget to look for your eternal companion." 


I can personally and emphatically attest that the effect that a righteous bishop who listens can have on his congregation is profound. What if every Sunday instead of, "Get married" we heard our ward father say, "In this ward, we're a family, and in this family we don't leave anyone out." What if, instead of wondering how we look in our jeans and if he will notice, we were taught to pick up the ward list and call every name on it to make sure they'd gotten the invitation. What if we were encouraged to look at each other as sources of support and security instead of someone who will ultimately accept or reject us for the remainder of mortal existence and beyond? 




Help us. Teach us. Show us the way to break free from the vicious voices of the world who relentlessly, infectiously declare, "You are not good enough. You are not strong enough. You are alone." Show us how to love ourselves for who we are. Then, teach us to love something and someone more than we love ourselves, because I want to be someone who loves selflessly, and I want to marry someone who lives in selfless love. 

There's doctrine, and then there's culture.

My name is (not really) Imogen Frowfrow, and I love the gospel of Jesus Christ.

No, but seriously.

All I ever want to be be doing is talking about the doctrines of the gospel with my buddies or teaching a lesson in Relief Society, giving a talk in church or listening to conference talks on my iphone. I love discovering one after another after another the connections, moments of illumination, inspiration, and clarity that come when I immerse myself in the Truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Also, sometimes being Mormon drives me crazy.

I am 100% in favor of service projects, cultivating kindness, visiting teaching, scripture study and the profoundly powerful medium of prayer and the way it connects me to God. I served a mission, I love church history, modern prophets and revelation. However, there are certain elements of daily life as a Mormon that drive me completely nuts. These are the things that we have let permeate our religion that are in no way doctrinally supported. We are a people of many traditions, for better or worse, and when it's for worse we have a saying.

"Well, there's doctrine, and then there's culture."

I like this phrase because it reminds me that, in those moments where I'm in church and something feels terribly, horribly wrong, it probably is wrong. This phrase reminds me that that's not God, that's just His kids doing their best, so I don't have to reconcile my life to fit that ideal.

I am also deeply disturbed by this phrase because I've found that most often it's used to justify the places our culture doesn't line up with our doctrines. In other words, it's telling us we don't have to practice what we preach. Some of these cultural elements are peripheral, silly, even entertaining. Others are quietly eroding the souls of faithful Latter Day Saints everywhere and these spiritual siblings of mine are leaving... en masse. 

So what's a poor gal to do in a top down, patriarchal organization run by God Himself when a well meaning leader starts talking about the righteousness of a particular political party, the way God loves some of His kids more than others, or how even a barn looks better with a coat of paint on it? How can we break free from the endless routine of putting on a happy face for the free food activity doused in crepe paper when all we really want is something spiritually solid? When will we start answering from our souls in Sunday school instead of thoughtlessly resurrecting and reciting the responses of days gone by? 

I used to feel somewhat helpless about this situation; victimized by what seemed to be an overwhelming majority of people set on marching to the beat of that drum. Then, I started saying what I actually think and feel, and you know what? Turns out I'm not the only one in the drum line aching for a cello. One of the most empowering days of my life was the day I realized that I'm a part of Mormon culture too, and guess what? So are you.