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.

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.