A Letter to the General Relief Society Presidency

My name is Grace, and I am reaching out to you as a distressed member of the church. Heads up! Everybody deserves fair warning, right? ;) I am writing this letter with no address or permission to send it to you, so here it goes. I'm writing this to you after the conclusion of General Conference, as I feel troubled. 

I watched Women’s Session yesterday evening from the solitude of my bedroom, where I was quarantining pending a COVID test result. (Negative. We’re good!) I struggled with Women’s Session. I loved every talk up until the Brethren started talking. Their words felt out-of-touch, and not just because they’re men. They felt out of touch because the way that they were speaking carried heavy tones of sexism. President Eyring outright stated that there would be more women in heaven than men! 

Equality in our church led me through a faith crisis when I got married, and had to face the bitter reality that my husband did NOT fit the image of an elusive knight in shining armour who was going to save me, like I had been led to believe, but was, in fact, just my equal. The wording in the temple, at the time, drove home the fact that our church held, in doctrine and practice, the standard of inequality. My husband WAS supposed to be seen as that savior to me, coming between me and my god. Getting married was the biggest demotion I’d ever received. Things are better, now, but my husband is still assigned the role to “preside” in the temple, something that by very definition is not equality.

President Eyring’s passing comment hurt me immensely, and brought back a flood of anger and upset. See, when I was in college, at BYU-Idaho, some well-intentioned teacher had taught in a class the old doctrine that there would be no female “Sons of Perdition.” I remember stewing on it for months, and upon returning home, one night devolved into a weeping mess with my mother in her bed. “It’s not fair!” I cried. “It’s like women just aren’t worth as much! It’s like we’re less accountable! I can’t even go to Hell if I want to!” My mother righteously corrected me, for which I will always be grateful. “Oh trust me.” she calmed. “You can go to Hell.”

President’s Eyring’s statement that there would be more women in Heaven than men was reminiscent of this old doctrine that caused me so much pain. Only two logical conclusions can be drawn, if we are to believe this statement.

First - Women are less accountable than men. (Those sweet, sweet spirits…)

Second - Men are naturally just more terrible. 

I reject both of these notions. Men and women are different, yes. But as the adage goes, “Don’t judge me because I sin differently than you.” Women may not murder as many people, but we definitely aren’t “just better.” I have sons. I have a husband. I reject that as pure, though perhaps well-intentioned, sexism. My concern is that this tradition is carried forward and being taught because it has, historically, been used as a justification for polygamy - if there are more women in heaven than men, polygamy is justified. It is being taught, however, without appreciating the more significant implications about worth and equality.

In this church there is no equality between the genders. I can appreciate there are differences between genders, but this is a church that serves men more than women. The Relief Society Presidency doesn’t speak in Priesthood Session of conference. Why do the Brethren feel the need to step all over this rare opportunity we have, as women, to have a session just for us? To actually hear women speak in a way that we relate to, and feel heard! Do the men not trust us women, or see us as capable, to handle one of ten sessions each year on our own? 

I am reminded of President Chieko Okazaki who, tactfully, expressed her disappointment that the Relief Society Presidency was not consulted with, in the writing of the Family Proclamation. In a church where women’s needs, concerns, and insights are seen as an afterthought or a token voice, there will be no equality. (Don’t even get me started on our blatant anti-ERA past, subservient to the Brethren Relief Society callings, etc.)

I mentioned that inequality in the church led me through a faith crisis. I have given my entire life to God. I have been an active, temple recommend holder my entire life. I receive regular personal revelation. I feel confident in saying that I know God, and that God approves of me. I love and trust God more than anything, and have taken countless risks in my life because God told me too, and I learned to trust. It was declining a job offer. Going on a mission. Marrying my husband. (I had some real commitment issues, and God had to hit me multiple times over the head, including with direct words, that I needed to marry that man.) 

I have followed God through all of these challenges, trials, and risks, and I include the risk that I have felt directed to in my faith crisis. God has told me to disagree. God has told me to say unpopular things, and study our unpopular history. I have come to conclusions about many of these things, conclusions that are unpopular. I let my temple recommend lapse, and have felt nothing but God’s blessing and support for the decision I made to act with integrity in that decision to do so. It hurts. It hurts to feel like my church, my “tribe,” views me as “less than” for doing what God has told me to do, and believing what God has told me is true. But I trust God well enough to know that I should press on.

I am hurting in this church. I hurt because of this church every day. But I stay, because like Eugene England stated, “The church is as true as the gospel.” You just don’t become a better person in any other setting, and yes, that is often through trials.

I reach out to you because I don’t want inequality to be one of those trials for me anymore, or for anybody else. I know I stand with God on the issue - that I can go to Hell like any man, and I will gain exaltation through the same judgement which will be meted my brothers! I am not a fragile thing to be pedestaled and admired from a distance, but rather a comrade, a “helpmeet” in the purest form. 

I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done, realistically. It has been a long time since I have felt the blind belief that the church would only ever help me. But I hold out hope that many of our leaders are genuinely good people trying to do what is right. Surely, if they heard my cries, they would do something to fix it, wouldn’t they?

I am a woman with a lot of faith in God, and not very much in man. (God is okay with this.) I know I am not the only one suffering in this way. Heck, there are support groups with thousands of members trying to stay actively engaged in the church despite their nuanced beliefs and differences. 

Will the church make a place for feminists? I’m not asking you to Ordain Women. (Secretly, I feel like we regressed there a bit, but I’m not going to push it.) I just want to know that women are equal, and though we’ve made significant steps in the right direction, in the words of a friend of mine, “I’m just so tired of being expected to be grateful for crumbs.” 

Can the general Relief Society Presidency operate a little more independently? Call their own successors like the brethren do? Can we have Women’s Sessions where a man doesn’t demand the final word by virtue of his divine authority? Where, maybe, men don’t even feel entitled to give their opinion or speak at all? In the least, can we have a Women’s Session where we don’t have to be subjected to patronizing, pedestaling tones from the men, and veiled attacks on our equality, or constant reminders of our “place” in the priesthood, beneath the brethren? (Priesthood does NOT equal “the ability to pray to God and get God’s help,” so no, women don’t have it in the sense that the men do, no matter how we try to spin it.) 

I’m sorry. I know my tone gets grumpy. I’m really tired of the struggle. I’m tired of losing friends and family to the struggle. I have had so many friends and family members step away from the church because of these mortal problems, and the fact that leadership seems unwilling to recognize or admit to the mortality of these problems. Fallibility is written into our doctrine, and yet it is so hard to admit to, at times. It is admitting Brigham Young said crazy things. It’s admitting we were wrong when we said it was doctrine that blacks couldn’t have the priesthood until every white man had it. I’m obviously very open to the idea that polygamy could have been a mortal invention. But knowing that there have been mortal mistakes made and claimed as doctrine DOES leave the door open for changes in these matters of equality. Do we truly believe in equality between men and women, like the Book of Mormon states, or do we just pay it lip service while still placing exclusively men at the top of the chain of every command?

I was frustrated, during COVID, that our Area Authority vetoed our ability to hold online church services locally. I am someone that very much appreciates fellowshipping with the saints, despite all my opinionated ways making me rough around the edges. I joined with wards in other parts of the world, but eventually, my frustration with what I deemed to be an unrighteous ruling vetoing local online services led me to finding local online services outside of our faith. 

I attended online services with Community of Christ, and found beautiful fellowship there. I glimpsed equality in the church, and knowing that it was the church of the son of Joseph helped me see that equality was and is possible. Reading the history of Emma Smith, I know that equality is possible. Equality is certainly compatible with the vision Joseph Smith Jr had, though it is far from what exists presently. 

I want to belong in this church. I find value in our rituals, in our teachings, in the empowering relationships with deity that are fostered and grown from our earliest youth. We are a church of service, of goodness and kindness. At times we are mortal and we screw up, but I hope that we can continue to strive for a Zion society of equality, and not let fear of looking “mortal” hold us back from progressing forward when we recognize or learn new truths. 

A sincerely trying member,

Grace

Tonight

Tonight we went for a drive. We often like to drive to new places. Tonight it was a church parking lot up the hill from our house. We got out of the car and ran around, burning off some energy and playing in the decorative rocks before bedtime.

I took my shoes off. It was cool and windy, and the asphalt still had a pleasant warmth from before the clouds had rolled in. So, with warm bare feet and cold wind whipping my hair, my husband and I chased our kids around, and "ate" rocks. (They were strawberry cakes. For Jesus' birthday, per my oldest.)

The weather was my kind of perfect. I have always loved the wind. I love the rain. I love me a good storm. I know that storms often depress people, but for me there's something about that thick storm air that is invigorating. So taking my shoes off, getting in some good "grounding" time there, I felt close to God. 

But also so very very sad.

Just across a field from our parking lot was the Saratoga Springs Temple construction site. It absolutely looks like an Orthanc on a dead plain. No insult to construction. I know building buildings takes time, but this is also one temple I'm not happy to see go up. It feels so unnecessary, with eventually no fewer than ELEVEN temples within a one hour drive from our home. That's not an exaggeration. When the construction is done on the next two, there will be ELEVEN. ELEVEN in one hour.

Seeing this temple makes me feel that we've lost the vision of what temples are supposed to be for, so now they're status and power symbols, rather than ascension symbols. They're symbols of prosperity rather than an Axis Mundi. To me, the hypocrisy level is high as the Church continues to build more temples where no more are needed, and we still have a grossly unfathomable slush fund of wealth. While there are still poor Mormon kids starving to death in third world countries, while their parents are told to pay their tithing instead of feeding their children. To me it seems wrong. It seems like the Church is trying to help their own image instead of God's own children. In these tithes and offerings they have robbed God - taking meat from the house for themselves, so to speak.

Feeling the wind, feeling the warm asphalt, hearing my children laugh, I was close to God. 

"The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit." John 3:8

The wind can bring hurricanes. It brings life-giving rain. It destroys in tornadoes. It parted the Red Sea. The wind can sweep your feet out from under you. It can dry a tear. 

The work of the Spirit isn't something we can completely understand. It's giving reassurances and peace, while simultaneously giving dark, honest truths - things which seem to contradict one another, and yet it is manageable. THAT is knowledge of both good and evil. 

"As we bow to His leading and guiding, promptings and training, so the indiscernible, unfathomable movement of the Spirit of God can be observed in the man or woman whose life is yielded to the Lord." (Knowing Jesus.com) 

It is hard to be a nuanced Mormon. But it makes me grateful for stormy nights.

Parables and Parallels

Jesus taught in parables, a fact that I've latched onto multiple times throughout my life. 

Parables are fantastic. Parables are a fantastic way to learn "line upon line." A story can change meaning for you from one day to the next. Parables are symbols in action. 

Recently I had a bit of a "revelation" come to me, through the familiar parable of the Good Samaritan. It came as I pondered on "uncleanness" in the Biblical tradition. It occurred to me that one reason why the priest would have passed by the wounded, beaten man, was because he couldn't be certain the man wasn't already dead. If the priest had touched a dead man, he would have become unclean, and wouldn't have been able to participate in his temple service until he became "clean" again. The priest did not stop to help the wounded man because he had "temple stuff" to do, and wouldn't allow another's uncleanness to come between him and God. He missed the point, however, that "inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me." His concern for becoming "dirty" prevented him from being with God. After some pondering that, I found new ways to apply that to my life, and it taught me things. 

Because parables. Parables and symbols alike, though repeated with the same words or images, time and time again, can mean different things on any given day, often with meanings changing to help answer our own questions of the soul. I, personally, find great comfort in these symbols and symbolic stories. 

The other day I was watching a lecture that included a lot of Egyptian symbology. (One of my favorites.) I found truths in it, and later tried to explain something that had been quite a beautiful revelation to me to my husband. He was polite, but obviously it wasn't as mind blowing/life altering for him as it was for me. Because my husband doesn't speak symbols. 

He doesn't speak symbols?! Symbols are what God uses!!! Parables are what Jesus taught with!!! 

Maybe he'll learn to like them, I told myself. Maybe if he studied enough, learned enough about world history, cultures, historical theology, etc, etc, he would come to like them too. Maybe his ability to find value in the symbolical aspects of religious learning is something that would come with time, with... spiritual maturity. 

Because that's what Jesus used. 

As always, I'm a proud person. It's not unusual for me to automatically assume I'm right. Fortunately, I have a very patient husband who knows this about me, and allows ME the space to learn my own "line upon line." 

Today I figured it out. All of us are different. In the one brief year where I studied Elementary Education, we studied learning styles. I, myself, am a visual and kinetic learner. There's auditory, and reading/writing too. Are any of these learning styles wrong? Are any of them "better" than the others? Maybe some of them are easier in a given learning environment, but no one is "superior" to the others. 

God created all of us, and I believe God created us as individuals, in omnipotent wisdom. I also believe God created a multitude of environments for us children to learn in - Scripture, Prophets, Rituals. Who am I to judge if scripture speaks to my husband more than stories or symbols? Maybe God created Ritual and Isaiah to teach people like me, and had his prophets speak bluntly and with the plainness of the Book of Mormon for people like my husband. 

Is my learning style better? For me, it is. Is his best? For him, it is. 

Frankly, it doesn't matter if Creation stories have been told in ancient temples, by differing groups of people, with intricate parallels to each other and our own religious tradition, for thousands of years, and isn't that symbology beautiful. In the long run, my knowing that stuff doesn't benefit or change anything about my day to day actions in a way that is superior to people like my husband, who doesn't care about that stuff, but is already living a Christian life from doing from what he's learned from reading scriptures. 

All of us are different, and we all learn to draw closer to God in the context that fits our understandings best. 

Because Jesus taught in parables, but He ALSO taught the Sermon on the Mount.

Time, Time, Time

I've been thinking about time. Now, I'll be honest, every time I think about "time," I think of The Bangles singing "Time, time, time, see what's become of me." Bangles songs all have a tactile memory for me too, of sitting on the floor in my bedroom in front of my cassette player, absently flipping the Bangles tape case open and closed while listening. It's memories like this that make it far more believable to me that generations past used to just sit down in the family room to listen to the radio together. Because I did it too.

But Time. I've been thinking about it because a couple friends of mine were talking about a verse from The Book of Mormon. 2 Nephi 25:23. "For we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do." My friends were discussing how this verse has always been difficult for them, because they stress about the second half of the verse and neglect the first half. 

As Mormons, we tend to try REALLY REALLY HARD to be good people. We have a lot of commandments. We have a lot of principles. We have a lot of recommendations. We have a lot of priorities. There's an awful lot of stuff on our "to-do" lists. So often Relief Society lessons include the phrase, "I need to..." and include a list of things that people feel they could and should be doing "better."

People should always try to improve. Improvement isn't something to be avoided, true, but peace and acceptance are also things that we shouldn't avoid. Faith, hope, and grace are also things that should not be avoided. (Hear me, those who avoid me! Do not avoid Grace!)

I pondered on this verse, and the implications my friends were drawing - that the phrase "after all we can do" often makes people feel that God's grace will not save them until they have done EVERYTHING humanly possible to be perfect themselves. 

How could this be interpreted a little more mercifully, I wondered. I feel strongly that God does not condone the ceaseless beating of ourselves that we do in the Church. I love the Book of Mormon, and I wanted to believe that it wouldn't encourage people to such levels of self-flagellation, shame, and never feeling "good enough."

I think I've figured it out. 

It's because God doesn't experience time like we do. 

One of my greatest loves in the Church is the Temple - specifically the initiatory and endowment. This process is one of progression - recognizing our received blessings, responsibility, and potential as children of God. To me it's a very positive, enabling experience, culminating, symbolically, in our reception back into Heaven. 

I've often wondered at the Celestial Room of the temple. The entire endowment experience plays as something that has happened, happens presently, and will be a part of our future. It is a ceremony and experience that transcends time. Unfortunately, that transcendence of time is about as clear as mud, because mortality really sucks, and we mortals have a hard time wrapping our heads around timelessness. But I sincerely believe that as we enter the Celestial Room in the temple, we enter salvation presently. We enter the presence of the Lord NOW. TODAY. If heaven was something meant to happen only after we die, that room would be forbidden us, and yet it is not. We enter heaven in this life. We receive the knowledge that empowers our salvation NOW, not upon our deaths. 

My love for the temple has really come from this kind of contemplation - reception of eternity in the here and now. Recognizing our divinity within and throughout our mortality. Still clear as mud? I know. It definitely is, and I've answered all of your soul's questions.

But I brought this line of thinking into this Book of Mormon verse. Through grace you are saved after all you can do. If I think of this verse with timelessness in mind, I believe that I am saved presently. It's already happened. I've already been accepted into the presence of the Lord. That "after all you can do" applies to my mortality as it is today. It discusses my heart more than any future possible action. I have been saved today. Christ's grace takes over from where I am TODAY. 

It's not about reading my scriptures more tomorrow, or praying more sincerely, or spending more time in service or in the temple, or yelling at my kids less, etc. Those little things aren't going to make a huge difference in what my heart has already become in this mortality - unless I make some serious steps backwards. Christ has already decided to save ME. That's why I was already welcomed into His presence in the temple! When I partake of the Sacrament, it is a feast of gratitude - a happy occasion where we remember having been accepted, and on what terms - Christ's atonement. 

Serious sins need repenting of, obviously yes. But your day to day failings will always exist. I'm sorry. You're mortal. That's not about to change any time soon. You must learn to embrace that Christ's atonement, Christ's grace, makes your Godhood possible TODAY. In God's timelessness, your beginning and your end are as one, and you are already known and accepted of God. "After all you can do" is what direction you point your life and your heart. That pointing of the heart and intent - to Christ - is the simplest, most essential thing you can do daily - that affects all future actions and possibilities. How well you do in this intended direction is just a fudge of numbers. Turning to Christ is what matters. Grace takes care of the rest.

Time, time, time. It's something only mortals worry about - and I'm constantly trying to relearn, re-figure-out, re-epiphany the moments of understanding of God's perspective on the matter for myself. Because timelessness doesn't stick in the mortal brain very well at all.

Clear as mud. Carry on with your day.

Morning Musings with Mum

I have loved living with my mom for the last month or so. We're in between houses, at the moment, as we wait on the builder to finish our new home, so here we are living with my madre. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but I've thoroughly enjoyed my regular conversations with my mom. 

This morning, while the boys were munching on their favorite dried cereal, my mom and I stood in the kitchen and talked. She'd been studying King Benjamin, and Hugh Nibley, naturally. She summed up this quote, to me, that she'd read this morning. (I'll just cheat and write the quote out.) 

From Hugh Nibley's Commentary on the Book of Mormon Volume 1:

"The Book of Mormon tells us in Ether, the brother of Jared said, God talked to me in all humility, as one man to another. To be humble is not to bow down to somebody who is above you, not to lick the boss's boots, not to be subservient to higher rank, but to be equal with all. That's to be humble. Our thing is usually to be arrogant to those below you and subservient to those above you. That's the way you get success in this world, but that's not to be humble at all. Remember, the Lord himself is humble, as the brother of Jared said... To be humble is to speak to one as you would to another."

I loved this insight, from my mother (and Hugh Nibley). To me, this was incredibly empowering in a way I'd never thought of humility before. I have never had a hard time understanding humility as not putting yourself above another person. I'd never considered that humility also included not putting another person above yourself. 

Another scripture I had heard someone mention, recently, was in Alma 32. Alma is teaching the people who were cast out of the synagogue because of their poverty and coarseness. He tells them:

Alma 32:12:

"It is well that ye are cast out of your synagogues, that ye may be humble, and that ye may learn wisdom; for it is necessary that ye should learn wisdom; for it is because that ye are cast out... that ye are brought to a lowliness of heart; for ye are necessarily brought to be humble."

My friend had been mentioning the scripture as trying to find a bright side to "at home" church. With this key word "humility" on my mind, however, I started to see the scripture a little differently.

Because these people could not practice "church" - aka "Rameumpton," in this case - Alma felt that they would be able to learn humility and wisdom. The wisdom wasn't found at the Rameumpton. That place was full of pride and self-aggrandizing. Being removed from the church allowed these people to be HUMBLE - to see themselves as equal - no better or worse than anyone else, including the people kicking them out. Those Rameumpton snappy dressers were NOT better than them. 

It was empowering to me to see it in this light! Again, no surprises, I'm a nuanced Mormon, and have been vocal about my disagreements with culture, etc. Reading this scripture, reading Nibley's thoughts and talking to my mother, reminded me that we, mortals, are incredibly capable. The kingdom of God is within us. We are all capable of finding wisdom on our own. Ideally, should we gather together and help each other out? You betcha. But if we can't, we ARE CAPABLE. 

So that was a refreshing thought to start the day out with!

My mom also mentioned another insight she'd gleaned, this morning. So change of topic!

My mom mentioned a thought she'd had on the Three Degrees of Glory, within our faith. Doctrine and Covenants 76 speaks of the Three Degrees of Glory. Verses 81-83 describe that those who go to the Telestial Kingdom (or lowest) are those who DON'T deny the Holy Ghost, but do NOT receive the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Verse 77 describes that those in the Terrestrial Kingdom "receive the presence of the Son, but not the fulness of the Father." The Celestial Kingdom would be those who accept the fulness of God, then.

My mom was pondering on this, and interpreted it personally.

The Telestial Kingdom is for those who listen to the Spirit - people who want to "be good" but aren't interested in God. They are good, but not interested in being inspired by any particular group or religious figure.

The Terrestrial Kingdom would be for those who accept Christ. They are those who are full of gratitude for Christ. Gratitude for His atonement. Gratitude for the lessons taught. 

The Celestial Kingdom takes it a step further and DOES SOMETHING about it. They recognize that the goal isn't about Christ, the means, but about God. It's the people who want not only to be forgiven, but to be creators, possessors of wisdom, and people of actionable good. 

I loved this, also. 

My mother and I talked about our relationships with Divinity. My mother talked about how she has never had a "relationship" with Jesus - something I feel similarly on. Christ constantly encouraged people to worship God - not Himself. "The glory be Thine" was, in fact, His plan. It was Satan who wanted to be the Savior who received all the glory. Christ did not want it. Christ wanted us to see and focus on God, and God's mercy, love, and glory. 

When we pray, we pray to God. It is God who answers our prayers. It is good to have an understanding of Christ's atonement. It is good, indeed, to be grateful for it! It is good to love Christ for performing such an act for us! But this doesn't necessarily mean you have a relationship with Him. It is an experience of understanding and gratitude. Surely we will remember the love our divine elder brother has for us, when we meet Him, because we do love Him, and He us, but we do not presently have a relationship with Him - one of communication and reciprocity. That is with God. 

God is my goal. That is who I want to be with most. That is who I want to be like. (Christ too, obviously, but we must recognize where the good comes from, and it comes from one step higher.) 

I love living with my mom. We may never leave.

Priesthood Power and Authority

A friend of mine posted a question on her Facebook wall today. She asked for perspectives and thoughts on the differences/meanings of "Priesthood Authority" and "Priesthood Power."

Basically, this post is just my musings on the question, as I've been pondering it.

I think we can come to answers and conclusions in many ways - either through understanding scriptures, in all their multitudinous languages, interpretations, examples, etc. Now, I know my Bible, but I pretty much just know it in English, so while this is A strong point in some ways, I am certainly not the expert, so I'm not even going to try. I'll leave that to the people who speak Hebrew.

I think I can draw on life experiences and my own personal relationship with God, however.

There are a few things I know about God, either from my own personal relationship with divinity, or from what God tells us about Himself/Herself through prophets in the form of scripture.

1) God is no respecter of persons. (Male, female, bond, free, black, white.)

2) The ultimate goal of eternity is to become like God.

3) God is love.

Now let's ask about priesthood power. What is it? It is the power of God. It is given to humanity to act in God's name, with God's power on Earth.

Knowing what we know about God, do we believe that God would refuse to grant power to people who are doing God's will? - No. God is also no respecter of Mormons versus Catholics, either. Mormons do not have the market on righteousness and being servants of God. I would further argue that I literally know LDS temple workers who DEAL DRUGS, Mormons who abuse their wives, Mormons who are serial killers, etc. On the other hand, I can name thousands of individuals who are righteous - who do good and strive to be like God - who are not Mormon. Fred Rogers, Mother Theresa, Martin Luther, Pope Francis, etc.

Mormons do not have the market on righteousness and serving God. I believe God gives priesthood power to those who do God's work, and require it in their service to God.

Now we come to Priesthood Authority.

Knowing what we know about God, point number 2, the goal of life is to become like God in the eternities. Keeping God's work and glory - the immortality and eternal life of man - in mind, an argument can be made that "authority" is a temporary construct. Authority is a means to an end. In the eternities there very well may be structural authority, but I believe it will center around Christ.

While adults may honor their parents, they also do not report back to them and obey their laws. Adults have their own houses. They pay their own bills. They may take advice from their parents, but they no longer have to obey them in quite the same way, as they had to when they were teens living at home. I do not believe that Gods have to follow authority figures such as bishops and prophets. They will follow - of their own volition - God the Father and Christ.

If Authority is a means to an end, what is its mortal purpose?

I now give you the parable of Jon H.

Jon H. was the best boss I have ever had. When I was a social worker at a care center, Jon was the administrator. Jon threw pizza parties. Jon left his office door open. Jon went around talking to residents, patients, and staff alike for multiple hours each day, to check in on how they were doing, what their concerns were, etc.

Nothing was beneath Jon either. Jon could be found with a cleaning bottle and a rag in one hand on more than one occasion. When I had the audacity to go on vacation one Christmas, and was concerned that I had no one who could replace me, Jon did the parts of my job he was legally allowed to do for an entire week.

Jon knew his care center inside and out. He took care of his charge, and had the beautiful ability to make everyone feel valued and important. His door was always open. His mini fridge was stocked for staff and patients alike. (We did not abuse that privilege!) He always had an enthusiastic way of asking, "How can I help?" I am thoroughly convinced that no greater boss has ever lived.

When Jon was naturally promoted, we cried. A new administrator came. This second administrator sat in his office. When staff showed a weakness, or made a mistake, he came down on them hard. (In one instance he may have come into my office to yell at me for a comment I had made the day before, about what a terrible, overworked day I'd had. I may have turned right back around and yelled at him, "What in the Hell is wrong with you?! That was a cry for help!")

This second administrator worried about what things looked like. He worried about how everything reflected on him, and how he was doing his job. He placed blame on individuals for natural mistakes. Moral went down. People were quitting their jobs right and left. Eventually this second administrator was fired. They brought Jon back, and there was much rejoicing. (He left after I left. I felt bad he was sent back after being promoted. That would have sucked. But the company was toxic, and he was better off elsewhere. He was too good for them.)

Authority.

I believe the mortal construct of authority was created so that the world could benefit from people like Jon. When good people have authority, the world runs like a well-oiled machine, and everyone benefits. Rules are clear and support is given where it is needed. When we view "Authority" as being the ultimate way to serve and help others succeed, you cannot go wrong. When, as King Benjamin counseled, your leaders are your servants, you see authority as it was intended. Your authority is your great teacher. Authority is a responsibility and a calling to serve. Literally no one kicks against an authority figure like Jon.

We kick against authority figures like my second administrator, however. When an authority acts and behaves like our second administrator, they are not an authority as God intended, and people would be better served elsewhere, because that authority did not care about everyone growing together, but cared, rather, only about himself, and his own recognition and power. My second administrator was, in fact, following Satan's plan - the glory be mine.

So often "authority" is looked at with a sense of pride - the accomplishment of leading with the fullness of the truth. It is glorying in itself, which is a sin I see happening now in the Mormon church. Authority is not being used as God intended - as a means of serving others, and helping them find God and happiness. It is touted as its own aim, not as a form of selflessness, humility, and assistance.

Because God doesn't care about authority as much as we do. Because it's just a mortal construct.

God is no respecter of persons, and if the authority ceases to be a way of serving and turning hearts to God, and turns, instead, into a way of serving itself, God will freaking FIRE it, just like my second administrator. Because God doesn't need authority. He created it to help others, and if it's not helping, God will not force us to obey it.

Because God is love. If we can learn to love, utterly, completely, and fully, we will be like God, and we will have filled the measure of our creation.

There's the lovely story in the Bible where the apostles attempt to rat-out a man they see casting out devils in the name of Christ.

 Luke 9:49
"Master, we saw someone casting out demons in Your name, and we forbade him because he does not follow with us.”

And Christ responded:
Luke 9:50
"Do not forbid him, for he who is not against us is on our side.”

Because God is not a stickler about "proper authority." Because if people are finding God in the way that works best for them, they're doing everything just fine. God created authority to help point us all in the right direction and work through our issues efficiently, with a nice support network. But if the "authority" isn't doing that for you, that's okay too. The goal is to be with God again. You do that by loving like God.

Moral:

God gives God's power to whoever God wants to give it to.
Authority is a means to an end, not the goal itself.

What's Keeping Me Awake

The power has gone out in Eagle Mountain no fewer than five times in the last twenty-four hours. They scheduled a power outage from 11pm to 2am tonight to finish up whatever job they were doing, to fix the power for good. But this resulted in the furnace making a loud "clunk" and all the technology beeping back to life at 2am, waking up the toddler, making the toddler run to his door and demand to go downstairs, then scream crying when I brought him back to his room.

He fell back asleep relatively quickly. I, however, didn't. I couldn't stop thinking. Finally, around 3:45, I accepted to myself that I was getting two and a half hours of sleep and that that was fine. I was fortunate that I could nap in the afternoon, during "quiet time," and that I should just be sure not to operate heavy equipment once the sun rose, which, guess what, quarantine, so that's not that hard anyway.

I have been no stranger to insomnia in the past. Pregnancy insomnia hit me pretty hard both times around, and back in those days I had to go to work in the morning. So I'm feeling pretty fortunate that it's 4am, I'm awake, and that's okay.

Tonight I'm just thinking. I had a hard time yesterday. As with most of my problems, nowadays, my "hard time" came from social media. If I'd been content to sit in my home and listen to my children whine all day about demanding more screen time consisting of their diet of Chuggington and Daniel Tiger, I would have been fine. If I'd been content to watch them hit each other with Hot Wheels track and pretend to sting each other like bees, with tracks held to their backsides all day, sure, I would have been fine. If only I'd been content humming "Into the Unknown" from Frozen II, which was hardcore stuck in my head all day, I might have been happy. But silly me decided that I needed adult interaction during this quarantine and I got on Facebook, desperate to see what was going on in the world outside of my toddler quarantine.

Earthquakes, Pandemics, Tornadoes, Power Outages. The usual, for 2020. I kept scrolling. Fabulous memes. I collected, and continued scrolling. Which combination of Disney princesses are you when you're happy versus angry? Mulan and Ariel, apparently. Freaking waste of my life. Ariel? Bull. Continued scrolling.

And then I found this gem, which is keeping me awake.

"Ah," I said to myself. "They wanna rehash this $100 Billion concern again, I see. Just when I thought I was coping with the impending General Conference so well, I am again confronted with black and white thinking. You're in or you're out. Should I comment about needless stereotyping against people with rational concerns about the way the Church handles its financials, which, while handled fairly, could be subject to moral discussion? Well, let's see what other comments she's getting. Maybe someone will have said something so I don't have to."

Freaking #DEZNAT with their excessive patience, love, and faith!!!

I kept scrolling, I didn't want to deal with it. You can't win, with those people.

You could try and call them out on pride, creating a hostile environment for other children of God in the Church - good people who are trying to belong, but now can't, because you're standing there calling them a fool for disagreeing with you on something they are ALLOWED to disagree with you on. You could remind them that the Church makes $19 MILLION a day in interest, and that $100,000 is like dropping your pocket change in the Salvation Army tin in comparison. Is it nice? Sure. Was it the Widow's Mite? Not even a sneeze in a hurricane kind of close.

I could have even considered posting a GIF, because sometimes that's easier. I would have posted this one:

But then they would have insisted they were not hating. They said they had love and faith, and if I didn't have enough faith to blindly follow everything without questioning and braving my own conclusions, that was MY problem with God, and may I have a happy time in Hell with the other Liberal Lefties LOL.

Nope, I kept scrolling. (Correction, I went back to take screenshots to share with my husband, because of how much it was eating at my soul that the members of the Church inadvertently do everything possible to make sure I never feel like I can belong.) (In going back I also noticed someone had made a comment similar to what I would have commented, and thanked them for making room for me to belong. So yeah, I did eventually interact with the post. But not with DezNat. Like I said. Can't talk with people who have nothing to learn.)

Did I mention I had "Into the Unknown" stuck in my head all day?

I'm far from the first nuanced Mormon to resonate with that song. Because that's what that song is about to me. The lyrics describe, perfectly, what it's like to disagree with the Institution's authority and turn your heart to listening for God's guidance instead. Because God is better than mortal men, and God often has something deeper for you, if you're willing to listen.

But it's also really hard to find the courage to listen. I described it once: "It [took] reaching my breaking point with church leadership for me to look past that religious authority and search even deeper for truth." Coming from a multi-generational Mormon family, living in Utah, it doesn't take a lot of courage to be a Mormon. It takes tremendous courage to question the status quo, and figure out what YOU really believe. My "faith crisis" and questioning led me to stay, but with new stipulations. I do not hold the Church as the ultimate authority. God is. I don't believe that I have to accept everything that is spoken, if God is telling me something else.

There were a thousand reasons I should have gone about my day and ignored the whispers in my heart that prompted me to question, that landed me where I am now. It would have been so much easier to believe the traditional teachings - everyone I ever loved was within the walls of traditional Mormondom. And like a Band-aid, it would have been so much easier to leave the Church outright, rather than sitting "on the edge of inside." But instead I'm here, nuanced, and afraid of what I'm risking for following God.

I'm very much in the unknown.

It's the unknown that's been keeping me awake.

I'm still feeling sick about not having a home in the Church because I'm a "Liberal Leftie LOL" who thinks the Church missed the mark on what Christ would have them do with their excess money. And frankly, I'm feeling sick to my stomach about General Conference.

There's freaking Coronavirus, people. I'm in toddler quarantine Hell. I really want peace and hope, like everyone else does right now! I could really use a spiritual boost this weekend, but I'm terrified that instead, all I'm going to get is a First Vision Infomercial.

In a previous post I mentioned my concerns and fears about General Conference and their divisive decision to roll out with the First Vision theme. I believe Joseph Smith's first "First Vision" account, and I'm going to have his third "First Vision" account shoved down my throat this weekend with all the weight of "divine authority" insinuated. And if I dare disagree with a conference premise or conclusion, once again, I'm going to be cast as not having enough "patience, love, and faith," despite how God-directed my nuance truly has been.

I'm so tired. Physically, because I'm not supposed to be awake for another two hours, now, but emotionally moreso. My only beg, my only plea, is that we be more aware of each other, this General Conference time. Please know that God hasn't cast anybody out, so you shouldn't either. Leave room for people like me, who believe they are doing the right thing. If you don't leave room for people to do what they feel is right, they will do it somewhere without you, and it will be your loss.