Michael Otterson advised the press: to understand Mormonism, go to the source and allow Mormons to define themselves. But what if these Mormons are survivalist Joel Skousen, Tea Party painter Jon McNaughton, or Tammy, an anti-government gun-toting rodeo queen from Overton, Nevada? All three were lengthily interviewed on French national radio.
A few disjointed thoughts, first on the pants event itself and then on the response. I have a lot of sympathy for the goals of the pants-protest group, as I understand them. I too would like to see a broadening of Mormon femininity; I would be very pleased to see symbolic changes in practice that would underscore the spiritual equality of the genders; I think the church will benefit from a more open and more compassionate acknowledgment of Mormon feminists’ concerns. To that extent, I say Brava, sisters! I think there were some errors in the conception and planning of the event. Framing something explicitly as a protest (or direct action) rather than an outreach will immediately put the community on the defensive, not only out of pure self-protection but also because an idealized unity is at the heart of the Mormon worldview and central to the felt power of Mormonism. Choosing as an arbitrary symbol (because it’s not about the pants, right?) something that appears to threaten a central social organizing principle of the community, gender difference, was unfortunate. And the rather mixed messages about the event’s aims, including mention of women’s ordination, together with the various groups that were drawn to the event, including hostile ex-Mormons who vigorously identified with the protest on the FB page, probably turned otherwise fair-minded observers against the group. In defense of the planners, it’s difficult to predict the life of a meme…
After much prodding from the folks here at Times & Seasons, circumstances have finally led Nathaniel Givens to accept our invitation to guest blog. Lurking on the bloggernacle for years, he says, made him realize that his ideas aren’t getting any fresher. So, finding himself with a surplus of unoccupied evenings (due to the necessity of working far from home), he discovered that now is the “later” he previously had in mind whenever he procrastinated the task of committing his ideas to digital paper, and he’s agreed to publish those ideas at T&S. Nathaniel earned a BS in mathematics from the University of Richmond, then an ME in systems engineering from the University of Virginia, and most recently an MA in economics from the University of Michigan. His primary interest is the use of formal and informal models to understand ourselves and the world around us, e.g. in disciplines such as artificial intelligence and economic decision theory. What does this have to do with Mormonism? Hopefully that will become evident in his posts over the next two weeks. When he’s not working in the DC area, Nathaniel lives with his wife and two kids in Williamsburg, VA. He is the son of Terryl and Fiona Givens, authors of “The God Who Weeps” (http://deseretbook.com/God-Who-Weeps-How-Mormonism-Makes-Sense-Life-Terryl-L-Givens/i/5083070), and brother of Rachael Givens Johnson, who writes for Patheos (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/peculiarpeople/author/rgivens/). Nathaniel runs his own blog: Difficult Run (difficultrun.nathanielgivens.com).
You thought you were going to get it right. Right. Instead, you’re morphing into that crazy guy who sits on the front row in Sunday School with two hands up and three incompatible opinions. Given your extremity, making you crazy may well be God’s worst best way of saving you. Plan A is out the window. Now, the only way to get there from here is through that.
Over at FMH, rah has a post responding to my “How Mormonism Changes” post. As I read it, she has basically three objections to my post. First, she insists that I misunderstand the motivations of liberal Mormons, which are grounded in genuine love and concern for others rather than ideological embarrassment. Second, she suggests that historically the priesthood ban’s elimination had more to do with evolution within the hierarchy than it did with progression of the membership of the church. Third, she claims that the model of prophecy I propose is mistaken or the like because it does not appear in the scriptures. Here are some thoughts in responses. First, on the historical issue I actually agree with her. I think that creating unanimity among the highest leadership made it very difficult to abandon the priesthood ban. There was certainly a lot of racist theology taught in justification of the ban that ought to be examined and rejected. What is interesting to me is that despite the deep divisions among the leadership, the abandonment of the ban met with essentially zero opposition from the membership of the church. This historically was not always been the case with major ecclesiastical changes in Mormonism. I think that the lack of opposition among the membership was really quite striking and worth thinking about. I certainly do not think that the priesthood ban was without enormous costs for individuals and the church. Second, the liberal Mormons that…
At Faith Promoting Rumor TT has a legthy response to my last post on how Mormonism changes. It’s worth a read and you should go over a take a look. I actually agree with a lot of what he says, but I’d like to push back on a couple of things. First, he writes: “Unity” of the church is selective, not a neutral category, one that excludes some in order to manufacture unity. That is, even the choice to “preserve” unity comes with costs measured in exclusion. There are a couple of ways of understanding this. It could just be saying that maintaining unity has costs, it is not an absolute good, and that those costs are not evenly borne. Delaying the abandonment of the priesthood ban had costs for Black Latter-day Saints and for potential converts and members pushed away by the ban. If this is what he is saying, then I completely agree. Maintaining unity has costs. (More on this anon.) He might be saying something else, however, something a little more radical. He might be suggesting that the idea of communal or institutional unity is itself an illusion, an epiphenomenon created through a discourse of exclusion, a mere nothing that gratuitously harms the Other upon whom its construction depends. This, I think, is mistaken. I think that it makes sense to talk about the cohesion of communities. I think it makes sense to talk about institutions being…
One of the things that the Mormon interwebs do is imagine change within the Church, lament the lack of change within the Church, and (at times) agitate for change within the Church. Certainly there is historical precedent for change within the Church, the most dramatic recent example being the 1978 abandonment of the Church’s racial priesthood ban. This is an example worth thinking about. First, the shift came relatively late if you super-impose the Mormon timeline on the civil rights timeline in the United States. The Supreme Court declared segregation unconstitutional in the 1950s, although it didn’t do much to actually end it. During the same period, Martin Luther King’s mass movement was getting under way. By the 1960s you had rioting and – not coincidentally – congressional action. By the early to mid-1970s segregation was thoroughly discredited and almost all of its formal structures had been dismantled. Hence, for many a Mormon – especially those of a liberal variety – the timing of the 1978 revelation is an embarrassment. The prophets, rather than moving in the vanguard of history seem to be trailing in its wake. Second, the shift exacted virtually no ecclesiastical costs for the Church. There were no mass apostasies in 1978. There were no splinter groups that formed as a result. Indeed, the overwhelming response to the revelation among conservative rank and file Mormons was relief and joy. There was no serious challenge within the Church…
The church has a new website today: Mormonsandgays.org.
Two years ago, we spent one of my favorite Christmases ever in Italy. We were living in a little town nestled against a mountainside between the Ligurian and Maritime Alps. Every Sunday we drove a half hour through the Piedmont countryside to meet with our little LDS branch. I loved our branch to death, but it was in that awkward in-between stage where there are enough members to necessitate a full complement of auxiliaries, but not nearly enough to comfortably staff said auxiliaries. We generally kept things more-or-less together, but we didn’t have a lot of extra time or resources after barely managing to accomplish the essentials. Since I was the branch music chairperson, I had realized a few months before that I should probably plan a special musical number or two for the Sacrament meeting the week before Christmas. My husband was in the branch presidency, so I asked him what Presidente had in mind. He laughed and responded that he was sure Presidente didn’t have anything in mind yet, and why didn’t I put something together and present it for his approval. Not only was our branch tiny, but we didn’t even have a choir, so I went online and got the simplest Christmas Sacrament Meeting Program I could find. It was just excerpts from the Christmas story in Luke interspersed with Sally DeFord hymn arrangements that I could download and print for free. I wouldn’t have to translate…
I’m not a fan of public prayers in public places other than churches. It makes me feel a little bit uncomfortable. Some of this may be my contrarian reaction to prayers in classes at BYU and to the often earnest but uncomfortable prayers offered up before dramatic performances. I don’t suppose visiting theatrical companies mind much; it goes with the venue. But I feel for the students who pray these prayers, whether they are a jumble of stock phrases or an earnest, but incoherent mush of sentiments that are slightly inappropriate for the situation at hand. As an adult, I can experience different forms of worship and find inspiration. I can see common elements that speak to our shared faith, and I can enjoy the way a different emphasis can let me see the familiar with new eyes. And while I find pluralism comforting as an adult, it’s not always a viable worldview for children. As a child, I was acutely aware that I went to a different church from all the other kids in my school. I can still distinctly remember being asked on the playground if I was a Christian and why I didn’t go to church like everyone else. At that time, saying I was a Mormon, but that I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God was not enough to overcome bible-belt skepticism. I remember prayers before lunches and school assemblies that used unfamiliar…
