“She won’t join the church because we won’t let her practice polyandry.”<\/p>\n
That’s what my husband told the Stake President at his last interview. We’ve gotten a little tired of well-meaning, missionary-minded Latter-day Saints asking us why I’m not<\/em> Mormon—as though “Mormon” is the correct answer and I’m somehow deficient for having missed it—so we’ve begun playing a game of how much we can shock people with our answer when they ask. The polyandry thing is holding up pretty well.<\/p>\n We need not mess around with my fellow evangelicals in a similar fashion; just hearing that my husband is one of those accursed cultists is usually enough to bring a Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot expression to their faces.1<\/a><\/sup> Spoken reactions range from, “Wow. Now how did that<\/em> happen?” to “Bless your heart, we’ll have to pray for him.” I don’t at all mind people offering to pray for my marriage, but I’d rather have them ask me what<\/em> in my marriage needs prayer. There’s better things to pray for than just my husband’s general Mormon-ness.<\/p>\n That said, treatment from our respective faith communities hasn’t actually been all that bad. Mormons seem to have some kind of code (written or unwritten, I’m not completely sure) for accepting interfaith families into their communities, though the fact that I’m a freak with a degree from BYU in spite of never having been Mormon usually throws people for a loop. And while my particular flavor of interfaith marriage is a bit of a shock to the evangelical system, marriages to unbelievers aren’t. Paul devotes a good section to it in 1 Corinthians and even assures people that “the unbelieving husband is made holy because of his wife.”2<\/a><\/sup> The same verse promises that the kids in an interfaith union are holy, too. Not such a raw deal when you think about it.<\/p>\n So how does a Mormon-Evangelical interfaith household function? Here’s how we roll:<\/p>\n The question people usually want to know is, how are the children handling it? Aren’t we going to bork them spiritually?<\/p>\n So far we just have the one who is three years old, but she’s handling it well for her age. She recognizes both faith congregations and loves them both. She likes the nursery workers from both communities. She likes having the Bible read to her and listens pretty attentively for a three-year-old. She doesn’t like FHE; we’re working on that. Only time will tell how she handles it as she gets older and realizes the differences between the two communities.<\/p>\n The dance we’ve choreographed for making our two faiths work within our household is intricate, and in so much as it brings our family together I think it’s been a success so far. I’ll admit it though: we do not share a deep, spiritual connection, and it certainly isn’t for lack of trying. I try to share with him when I come across a passage or speaker or a book that excites me, and he’ll try to do the same, but it’s clear to me now that the things which inspire me spiritually just don’t have the same effect on him, and vice versa. Our reactions to each other in this department tend to be polite but detached. If there’s any reason to avoid an interfaith marriage, it’s this.<\/p>\n On the other hand, our emotional connection is deep, our friendship unquestionable, and when our interests aren’t shared they’re often complementary. He was unflinching in agreeing to move our family across the country to Chicago so that I can attend an evangelical seminary, and I can’t imagine being married to anyone who’s more fun or more fiercely devoted to me and my daughter. Many people in same-faith marriages can’t say the same.<\/p>\n I know that there are other T&S readers who have interfaith marriages. Feel free to share your stories, because I’d love to hear them.<\/p>\n \u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2013<\/p>\n\n