General Conference weekend was always one of my favorites growing up. It meant that we didn't have to make the early drive to church. It meant that we could sit in front of the tv in our jammies and huddle under blankets. It meant that we would have a relaxing Sunday breakfast as a family. As I got older, every conference weekend, we would make cowboy eggs (a concoction of eggs, toast, cheese, pineapple and ham. It remains one of my trustiest comfort foods).
Twice a year (the first weekend in April, and the first one in October), the church has a conference where the prophet and the apostles speak. This is broadcast to all the church houses all over the world. If you live in Utah, it is on local network television. There are 2 sessions on Sunday, and three on Saturday. They each last for two hours, and the last session on Saturday is only for the men, and so not broadcast.
I think the rule was we had to listen to one session of conference each day. We would mostly bring a radio outside for the Saturday session. We would play on the ropeswing, and the revelations of our living prophet would be our background noise.
On Sunday, we would all be passed out in front of the tv. Mom would make us get out of bed and sit in the living room. We would bring our blankets, and promptly fall right back asleep.
You'd think the word of god would be less soporific.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Mormons hate Sundays
... they will never admit it. Mormon folklore has it satan tries to oppose the work of god. Satan does all in his power on Sunday morning to make it difficult to be where god wants you to be: church. Satan will stop your alarm clock, make you tired, make the kids whinier or hungrier or make you want to enjoy your Sunday relaxing instead of at church. Its most popular form in practice is the temple story. Allow me to demonstrate:
"I felt the spirit prompting me to go to the temple. I hadn't been for weeks, and my husband was too busy with work to go out for ward temple night. Every day that I planned to go to the temple, something came up: the kids were sick or my car broke down or my temple clothes weren't washed. I know that satan was trying to stop me from enjoying the blessings of the temple. When I went, I felt the spirit so strongly. I know that the temple is a sacred place, and we should all prepare ourselves to be worthy of its blessings. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."
The reason this woman doesn't go to the temple is because satan doesn't want her to. Satan makes her kids cry or the car break down. Satan will use his incredible (apparently) power over people and inanimate objects. Satan makes her feel like she doesn't want to drive to spend time saving the dead (read: watching a two hour movie that she has seen several times before). Satan makes it so that she feels like she is wasting time, or that she would rather be with her family.
Satan makes it so that on Sunday morning she doesn't like getting her children ready to sit in boring meetings for three hours. Satan makes the kids complain, or soil their nice clothes before church. Satan makes her feel like she just wants to crawl back into bed, or have a slow, relaxing breakfast, or go out to eat with her family on Sunday.
Satan cares so much about what mormons do -- they ARE building the kingdom of god on earth, after all -- that he personally tempts each and every one of them to give into the natural man, to become an enemy to god.
Most of satan's temptations center on getting mormons to be more like normal people. It is natural that children cry when they are bored, that people want to make their free time their own. It is natural that people want to relax on the weekend, not spend 3 hours hearing the same things that they have heard their entire lives. There is never anything new. It is natural that people wouldn't want to go.
Mormons seem to forget that when you don't want to do something, psychologically you come up with any excuse. For me, I would always convince myself that I was "sick" on Sunday morning. I was so run down from my busy schedule, and it was only Sunday that I couldn't get out of bed. I had no problems going to school, maintaining a crazy work schedule, writing paper after paper, going out with friends. But on Sunday, I felt so "sick" that I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't wanna go, so I made myself sick enough to avoid it.
Mormons who talk about satan keeping them from church of the temple, tempting them to break the dietary restrictions or give in to their own natural healthy sexuality, they are just being more authentic to themselves. If you don't want to do something, you won't, or you will avoid it as much as you can.
This natural tendency to do what you enjoy and avoid what is unenjoyable is demonized in mormonism. Instead of talking about personal responsibility, they blame all their desires, all their "sins" on the seductions of an imaginary omnipotent/powerless being.
Being an athiest, I chose to be responsible for my own actions. It is not satan making me be bad or god encouraging me to be good. My good is MINE, and my mistakes are my own. It is terrifying for someone who has always believed in and depended on a higher pwer, but it is also so liberating. I am alone in my head, and I like the solitude.
"I felt the spirit prompting me to go to the temple. I hadn't been for weeks, and my husband was too busy with work to go out for ward temple night. Every day that I planned to go to the temple, something came up: the kids were sick or my car broke down or my temple clothes weren't washed. I know that satan was trying to stop me from enjoying the blessings of the temple. When I went, I felt the spirit so strongly. I know that the temple is a sacred place, and we should all prepare ourselves to be worthy of its blessings. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."
The reason this woman doesn't go to the temple is because satan doesn't want her to. Satan makes her kids cry or the car break down. Satan will use his incredible (apparently) power over people and inanimate objects. Satan makes her feel like she doesn't want to drive to spend time saving the dead (read: watching a two hour movie that she has seen several times before). Satan makes it so that she feels like she is wasting time, or that she would rather be with her family.
Satan makes it so that on Sunday morning she doesn't like getting her children ready to sit in boring meetings for three hours. Satan makes the kids complain, or soil their nice clothes before church. Satan makes her feel like she just wants to crawl back into bed, or have a slow, relaxing breakfast, or go out to eat with her family on Sunday.
Satan cares so much about what mormons do -- they ARE building the kingdom of god on earth, after all -- that he personally tempts each and every one of them to give into the natural man, to become an enemy to god.
Most of satan's temptations center on getting mormons to be more like normal people. It is natural that children cry when they are bored, that people want to make their free time their own. It is natural that people want to relax on the weekend, not spend 3 hours hearing the same things that they have heard their entire lives. There is never anything new. It is natural that people wouldn't want to go.
Mormons seem to forget that when you don't want to do something, psychologically you come up with any excuse. For me, I would always convince myself that I was "sick" on Sunday morning. I was so run down from my busy schedule, and it was only Sunday that I couldn't get out of bed. I had no problems going to school, maintaining a crazy work schedule, writing paper after paper, going out with friends. But on Sunday, I felt so "sick" that I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't wanna go, so I made myself sick enough to avoid it.
Mormons who talk about satan keeping them from church of the temple, tempting them to break the dietary restrictions or give in to their own natural healthy sexuality, they are just being more authentic to themselves. If you don't want to do something, you won't, or you will avoid it as much as you can.
This natural tendency to do what you enjoy and avoid what is unenjoyable is demonized in mormonism. Instead of talking about personal responsibility, they blame all their desires, all their "sins" on the seductions of an imaginary omnipotent/powerless being.
Being an athiest, I chose to be responsible for my own actions. It is not satan making me be bad or god encouraging me to be good. My good is MINE, and my mistakes are my own. It is terrifying for someone who has always believed in and depended on a higher pwer, but it is also so liberating. I am alone in my head, and I like the solitude.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Repentance
I only really repented once in all my 22 years in the church. I mean, I had gone in for the yearly interviews, recited off all the expected answers (yes I believe that christ died for our sins and joseph smith was a prophet and the church is lead by god thru a modern prophet in our day. Yes I obey the law of chastity, the word of wisdom, the law of tithing). I once told a bishop, before I got my patriarchal blessing, that I had had some problems with masturbation in the past, but that was all behind me now (and it was. I stopped masturbating for--well, mostly-- for the better part of two years. I thought that I was being guided to get married in the temple and become a wife and mother in zion).
But then I reconnected with an ex boyfriend. An exboyfriend who I had loved since I was 15, who was my best friend for years, who saved me from killing myself several times over. He is a good guy, he is just not my good guy. Anyway, during this reunion, there was oral sex. I hated it (I thought I hated it. Maybe it was the guilt or the insecurities or the guy... whatever it was, I soon came to truly appreciate how great oral sex can be).
The emotional aftermath was awful. I thought god hated me, that I had lost my right to forgiveness, to blessings. There had been a fireside in church where there was a line graph of progress... it showed how little sins like lying set us back, and how bigger sins like sex were impossible to recover from. And especially in singles wards, chastity is focused on. You don't kiss, you don't make out, you don't sit with your date in dark places, you shouldn't be alone, satan will tempt you. There is a famous mormon book that asserts that it is far better to be dead than unchaste.
I cried. I broke up with the boy (for more than that, but it was a catalyst). I fasted for 2 days, and made an appointment with the bishop. I confessed.
During the interview he asked me how long I had been with the boy, how many times it happened, who when down on who, what was the duration, did I enjoy it, was I going to do it again, what did I think about it. I was horrified. It went on and on, and I couldn't even look up. I felt soiled.
Afterwards, I went back to my relief society class. I sat in the back and read my scriptures. I was there for ten or fifteen minutes before I couldn't take it any more and I walked out. I went home. At the time I thought it was because I was evil, that god was making me uncomfortable because I shouldn't be around the normal "righteous" members of the ward. I thought that it was a part of the repentance process, that I had to suffer.
I was put on probation. I couldn't take the sacrament until the bishop was convinced I had repented fully of my sins. Everyone takes the sacrament in a mormon church, and when they don't, everyone knows it's because of sin. And in a singles ward, the favorite sin of 21 year old virgins is pretty obvious. You aren't even allowed to masturbate or make out or touch a boob. Physical intimacy is apparently a threat to the church (married couples must put on the sacred underwear -- shorts and a tshirt-- after sex and before you fall asleep. If you fall asleep naked in the arms of your spouse, you are disobeying the word of god and allowing satan to have power over you).
I remember going the next week to sacrament. I sat alone: I didn't have any friends in the ward. I sat alone and read my scriptures and refused the sacrament. The next week I came; I walked in, then I turned around and walked back out.
I was so confused. I felt like god was punishing me, making me uncomfortable in his one true church. I wasn't worthy to be there. I was worthless and weak and sexual and had no self control.
A month later, I let another guy suck on my breast. I was so upset with myself. Why couldn't I obey god? Why did I put myself in situations where I would kiss boys? If I could have surgically removed my sexuality at that point, I would have.
I dreamed about how much better, holier, I would be without my sexuality, without any desire to be held, to be touched and kissed and loved. It would be so much better to be able to return to god... if I didn't have my rebellious body....
My favorite song became "Come thou fount of every blessing." The song says that the singers are prone to wander from god, so they want god to take their hearts and seal them up in heaven. How I longed for god to take my heart and seal it in his courts above. I fervently, frantically wished it, prayed for it, fasted for it. I visualized my sexuality tortured, beaten, bound and killed (I really didn't appreciate the sexualized nature of my imagery of getting rid of my sexuality).
I wanted to give up all my free will. My free will was getting me into trouble, keeping me from god. My free will was going to send me right to hell.
I didn't repent about the boob, and I didn't repent about all of the oral that came after. I thought that I was just giving into the inevitable take over of satan, that this was all a result of me not repenting fully the first time. I sinned, so god took his spirit away from me so I couldn't tell good from evil. So I sinned, so the spirit withdrew so I sinned so the spirit went further away. The scriptures talk about being past feeling, where you can't tell what is good and what is evil. You are past feeling, hard hearted, stiff necked.
I felt like I was two different people. I was being pulled apart, being split in two. I felt like I was going crazy, like I couldn't make myself a coherent individual.
For the next year, I decided to enjoy what I had. My roommate told me that having sex didn't make me a bad person, that sex in a relationship wasn't always bad. She told me that if this was the first time in my life that I hadn't hated (loathed) myself, that I should continue, that I should do what made me happy. But maybe I was just avoiding church because I didn't want to go through the repentance process again, didn't want to have that horrifying confession. I couldn't imagine going into that small office with my middle aged bishop, asking me probing questions about whether or not I liked it, about if I wanted to do it again.
I couldn't repent because I couldn't say that I hated it, that I felt awful, that I would never do it again. I would have to lie, and that was something I had never done outright to god or my priesthood authorities.
But then I reconnected with an ex boyfriend. An exboyfriend who I had loved since I was 15, who was my best friend for years, who saved me from killing myself several times over. He is a good guy, he is just not my good guy. Anyway, during this reunion, there was oral sex. I hated it (I thought I hated it. Maybe it was the guilt or the insecurities or the guy... whatever it was, I soon came to truly appreciate how great oral sex can be).
The emotional aftermath was awful. I thought god hated me, that I had lost my right to forgiveness, to blessings. There had been a fireside in church where there was a line graph of progress... it showed how little sins like lying set us back, and how bigger sins like sex were impossible to recover from. And especially in singles wards, chastity is focused on. You don't kiss, you don't make out, you don't sit with your date in dark places, you shouldn't be alone, satan will tempt you. There is a famous mormon book that asserts that it is far better to be dead than unchaste.
I cried. I broke up with the boy (for more than that, but it was a catalyst). I fasted for 2 days, and made an appointment with the bishop. I confessed.
During the interview he asked me how long I had been with the boy, how many times it happened, who when down on who, what was the duration, did I enjoy it, was I going to do it again, what did I think about it. I was horrified. It went on and on, and I couldn't even look up. I felt soiled.
Afterwards, I went back to my relief society class. I sat in the back and read my scriptures. I was there for ten or fifteen minutes before I couldn't take it any more and I walked out. I went home. At the time I thought it was because I was evil, that god was making me uncomfortable because I shouldn't be around the normal "righteous" members of the ward. I thought that it was a part of the repentance process, that I had to suffer.
I was put on probation. I couldn't take the sacrament until the bishop was convinced I had repented fully of my sins. Everyone takes the sacrament in a mormon church, and when they don't, everyone knows it's because of sin. And in a singles ward, the favorite sin of 21 year old virgins is pretty obvious. You aren't even allowed to masturbate or make out or touch a boob. Physical intimacy is apparently a threat to the church (married couples must put on the sacred underwear -- shorts and a tshirt-- after sex and before you fall asleep. If you fall asleep naked in the arms of your spouse, you are disobeying the word of god and allowing satan to have power over you).
I remember going the next week to sacrament. I sat alone: I didn't have any friends in the ward. I sat alone and read my scriptures and refused the sacrament. The next week I came; I walked in, then I turned around and walked back out.
I was so confused. I felt like god was punishing me, making me uncomfortable in his one true church. I wasn't worthy to be there. I was worthless and weak and sexual and had no self control.
A month later, I let another guy suck on my breast. I was so upset with myself. Why couldn't I obey god? Why did I put myself in situations where I would kiss boys? If I could have surgically removed my sexuality at that point, I would have.
I dreamed about how much better, holier, I would be without my sexuality, without any desire to be held, to be touched and kissed and loved. It would be so much better to be able to return to god... if I didn't have my rebellious body....
My favorite song became "Come thou fount of every blessing." The song says that the singers are prone to wander from god, so they want god to take their hearts and seal them up in heaven. How I longed for god to take my heart and seal it in his courts above. I fervently, frantically wished it, prayed for it, fasted for it. I visualized my sexuality tortured, beaten, bound and killed (I really didn't appreciate the sexualized nature of my imagery of getting rid of my sexuality).
I wanted to give up all my free will. My free will was getting me into trouble, keeping me from god. My free will was going to send me right to hell.
I didn't repent about the boob, and I didn't repent about all of the oral that came after. I thought that I was just giving into the inevitable take over of satan, that this was all a result of me not repenting fully the first time. I sinned, so god took his spirit away from me so I couldn't tell good from evil. So I sinned, so the spirit withdrew so I sinned so the spirit went further away. The scriptures talk about being past feeling, where you can't tell what is good and what is evil. You are past feeling, hard hearted, stiff necked.
I felt like I was two different people. I was being pulled apart, being split in two. I felt like I was going crazy, like I couldn't make myself a coherent individual.
For the next year, I decided to enjoy what I had. My roommate told me that having sex didn't make me a bad person, that sex in a relationship wasn't always bad. She told me that if this was the first time in my life that I hadn't hated (loathed) myself, that I should continue, that I should do what made me happy. But maybe I was just avoiding church because I didn't want to go through the repentance process again, didn't want to have that horrifying confession. I couldn't imagine going into that small office with my middle aged bishop, asking me probing questions about whether or not I liked it, about if I wanted to do it again.
I couldn't repent because I couldn't say that I hated it, that I felt awful, that I would never do it again. I would have to lie, and that was something I had never done outright to god or my priesthood authorities.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Turning and burning
Fire is a popular image in mormonism. The fires of hell, of course, but mormonism doesn't focus much on hellfire. Fire is associated more with the holy ghost, the baptism by fire of having a member of the godhood there to comfort and guide you. The spirit of god like a fire is burning, the latter day glory begins to go forth. The spirit and blessings of old are returning and angels are coming to visit the earth. It's also the refiner's fire: becoming perfect hurts, and it burns, and it stings. But the suffering in this life will lead to our perfection and exaltation in the world to come.
The bad fire is mostly associated with tithing. Those who don't pay a full tithing will be "burned at the last day." A lot of mormons refer to this 10% of their gross income as "fire insurance." Pay it and live, don't pay it and be burned alive. That is the loving god that deserves our respect.
The title to this blog doesn't come from that tho. It comes from Lady Lazurus:
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it -
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featrureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify? -
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot -
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies,
These are my hands,
My knees
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everthing else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
"A miracle!"
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart -
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge,
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash -
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there -
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer,
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
I love this poem. The tone is playful and suicidal/homicidal/irreverant. Lazaruz as a female already turns the all-male bible into something that women can relate to. Lazarus in the bible was dead and called forth by Jesus. Lady Lazarus is called back by they... her friends? her family? Certainly, it is no deity saving her. She warns both god and lucifer that she is in charge of her own rebirth.
But it's this turning and burning that has defined my journey out of the church. Parents are taught that children are their opus... they are responsible for their children's salvation... the guilt keeping families in the church is incredible. Me leaving the church represents a failure on the part of my parents. Maybe it is because my mom died, because I wore a backwards baseball cap, because I read to much.... my parents should have done more, taught more, been more controlling... I should have gone to more church activities.
Leaving the church is not easy, emotionally and mentally. It hurts. I read my first accurate mormon history on the road between DC and delmarva. I was shocked. I was hurt... I spent the next year(s) reading compulsively. I love DAMU (the disaffected mormon universe for those, like me, who think damu sounds like a very odd name)... I am always reading RfM or FLAK or NOM. I need to know how other people deal with the ward, with their families, with the pain, with the recovery. I need to know why I was so faithful for so long. I need to know that I will not be eternally punished for having a cup of coffee.
My families concern is great... my grandmother had a talk with me, my sister wants me to believe in something, my second mother doesn't want me to throw god out with mormonism. I am not minimizing their concern. They honestly believe that I am sinning against god, that I am denying the holy ghost, that I want to leave mormonism because I am too prideful about my knowledge of the world (when they are learned they think they are wise and they harken not unto the counsel of god), because I want to have sex or drink wine. I am, like Esau, selling my birthright (my birthright, btw, to become a goddess, which in mormonspeak means endlessly pregnant baby making machine forever under the righteous dominion of a husbandgod I share with at least two other baby making machines), and I am selling my eternal exaltation for a bowl of lentils... or a really delicious cabernet.
My family is worried because they love me and don't want me to go to hell... and it is partly their fault if I do. I don't want to minimize or dismiss it. But I'm ok with melting to a shriek, I'm ok with with the ash. Cuz I will be ok... other apostates who have gone before me have proven that... life is better on the otherside, and more so because it is not imaginary friends (god/lucifer) who are fighting a microcosmic battle within you... it's YOU.
The rebirth isn't fun, but you get to find out what is on the other side.
The bad fire is mostly associated with tithing. Those who don't pay a full tithing will be "burned at the last day." A lot of mormons refer to this 10% of their gross income as "fire insurance." Pay it and live, don't pay it and be burned alive. That is the loving god that deserves our respect.
The title to this blog doesn't come from that tho. It comes from Lady Lazurus:
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it -
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featrureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify? -
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot -
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies,
These are my hands,
My knees
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everthing else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
"A miracle!"
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart -
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge,
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash -
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there -
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer,
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
I love this poem. The tone is playful and suicidal/homicidal/irreverant. Lazaruz as a female already turns the all-male bible into something that women can relate to. Lazarus in the bible was dead and called forth by Jesus. Lady Lazarus is called back by they... her friends? her family? Certainly, it is no deity saving her. She warns both god and lucifer that she is in charge of her own rebirth.
But it's this turning and burning that has defined my journey out of the church. Parents are taught that children are their opus... they are responsible for their children's salvation... the guilt keeping families in the church is incredible. Me leaving the church represents a failure on the part of my parents. Maybe it is because my mom died, because I wore a backwards baseball cap, because I read to much.... my parents should have done more, taught more, been more controlling... I should have gone to more church activities.
Leaving the church is not easy, emotionally and mentally. It hurts. I read my first accurate mormon history on the road between DC and delmarva. I was shocked. I was hurt... I spent the next year(s) reading compulsively. I love DAMU (the disaffected mormon universe for those, like me, who think damu sounds like a very odd name)... I am always reading RfM or FLAK or NOM. I need to know how other people deal with the ward, with their families, with the pain, with the recovery. I need to know why I was so faithful for so long. I need to know that I will not be eternally punished for having a cup of coffee.
My families concern is great... my grandmother had a talk with me, my sister wants me to believe in something, my second mother doesn't want me to throw god out with mormonism. I am not minimizing their concern. They honestly believe that I am sinning against god, that I am denying the holy ghost, that I want to leave mormonism because I am too prideful about my knowledge of the world (when they are learned they think they are wise and they harken not unto the counsel of god), because I want to have sex or drink wine. I am, like Esau, selling my birthright (my birthright, btw, to become a goddess, which in mormonspeak means endlessly pregnant baby making machine forever under the righteous dominion of a husbandgod I share with at least two other baby making machines), and I am selling my eternal exaltation for a bowl of lentils... or a really delicious cabernet.
My family is worried because they love me and don't want me to go to hell... and it is partly their fault if I do. I don't want to minimize or dismiss it. But I'm ok with melting to a shriek, I'm ok with with the ash. Cuz I will be ok... other apostates who have gone before me have proven that... life is better on the otherside, and more so because it is not imaginary friends (god/lucifer) who are fighting a microcosmic battle within you... it's YOU.
The rebirth isn't fun, but you get to find out what is on the other side.
Lying
The church has a huge no lying policy. You are taught about it from nursery up, stories about children who tell the truth even when it is hard. You are taught to reveal everything to your bishop (pastor), and from the age of 12, boys and girls have yearly (or more often) interviews with the bishop. He asks them questions on how they feel about god, if they believe that Jesus died for their sins, if they believe that Joseph Smith restored the one true and living gospel.
You are also asked about sexual practices including masturbation. From the age of 12, you are put in a room alone with a middle aged man and asked if you masturbate. Most people lie, and you learn at an early age to lie. If you tell him you DO masturbate or you touched your girlfriend's breast over her clothes, you are forbidden to take part in the very public ceremony of sacrament. Everyone notices, and everyone knows it's for something sexual (you are never forbidden from taking the sacrament for anything other than chastity or Word of Wisdom--dietary restrictions).
You are taught that all your leaders, from your local Sunday School teacher to the bishop to the prophet are all called by god. Lying to a priesthood leader is lying to GOD. And god knows. Church folklore has it that your local priesthood leaders know too; that they can tell when you are lying (kinda like santa, but without any presents). You don't lie, for liars are thrust down to hell... they are not sent to hell, or placed, or gently pushed... they are THRUST. You lie to the church, you are lying to god. Why would you lie to god? He died for your sins you ungrateful little wretch. You are crucifying him anew, etc, etc ad nauseum.
And it's not just outright lies that are punished. The phrase that is used is "honest in your dealings with your fellow man" (apparently women are not as important). You can lie by commision or omission. Misleading and misrepresenting is as bad as a spoken lie.
So, when I found out that the church lies about its history and its doctrine, I was done. Even if anything else were true, if all the spin doctoring in the world were accurate, it doesn't change the fact that the church LIES about it.
You are discouraged from talking about history, and anything not faith promoting is not discussed. The church actively silences discussion about polygamy, about heavenly mother, about the Mountain Meadows Massacre, about blood atonement, about Adam/god, about polyandry, about adultery, about church finances. You try to bring up these things in church or with a mormon, you will be told that you are anti mormon, that it was a long time ago, that it doesn't matter, that it is not necessary for our salvation, that we don't have all the answers in mortality, that it will be sorted out in the millennium.
Then the church actively lies. Gordon Hinkley states on national television that we don't believe that men can become gods; missionaries tell members that we are just like other christian denominations; members are told that the temple is spiritually uplifting; we are told that we have no paid clergy; we are told that satan persecuted Joseph Smith to try to stop the work of god; we are told that polygamy was never widely practiced; we are told that husbands had to get permission from the first wife; we are told that Brigham Young and Joseph Smith were benevolent, honest men; we are told that women have as much power as men, that god is no respecter of a persons color or gender--- or homosexuality. We are told that the Pearl of Great Price was translated from an ancient document, that the Book of Mormon is historically accurate. We are told that mormons are "persecuted" because they have the "fulness" of the "gospel" and "satan" wants to stop us. We are told that anything negative about the church comes from satan, and critical thinking is the first road to apostacy. We are told that apostates are sinners and evil and should be avoided.
The church lies. And it lies and it lies and it lies. Then it lies about its lies (he was misquoted, you don't understand, it was taken out of context, satan is twisting his words, this just proves the church is true, you should fast and pray about it).
The church lies, and for that alone it has no right to demand that I just have faith.
You are also asked about sexual practices including masturbation. From the age of 12, you are put in a room alone with a middle aged man and asked if you masturbate. Most people lie, and you learn at an early age to lie. If you tell him you DO masturbate or you touched your girlfriend's breast over her clothes, you are forbidden to take part in the very public ceremony of sacrament. Everyone notices, and everyone knows it's for something sexual (you are never forbidden from taking the sacrament for anything other than chastity or Word of Wisdom--dietary restrictions).
You are taught that all your leaders, from your local Sunday School teacher to the bishop to the prophet are all called by god. Lying to a priesthood leader is lying to GOD. And god knows. Church folklore has it that your local priesthood leaders know too; that they can tell when you are lying (kinda like santa, but without any presents). You don't lie, for liars are thrust down to hell... they are not sent to hell, or placed, or gently pushed... they are THRUST. You lie to the church, you are lying to god. Why would you lie to god? He died for your sins you ungrateful little wretch. You are crucifying him anew, etc, etc ad nauseum.
And it's not just outright lies that are punished. The phrase that is used is "honest in your dealings with your fellow man" (apparently women are not as important). You can lie by commision or omission. Misleading and misrepresenting is as bad as a spoken lie.
So, when I found out that the church lies about its history and its doctrine, I was done. Even if anything else were true, if all the spin doctoring in the world were accurate, it doesn't change the fact that the church LIES about it.
You are discouraged from talking about history, and anything not faith promoting is not discussed. The church actively silences discussion about polygamy, about heavenly mother, about the Mountain Meadows Massacre, about blood atonement, about Adam/god, about polyandry, about adultery, about church finances. You try to bring up these things in church or with a mormon, you will be told that you are anti mormon, that it was a long time ago, that it doesn't matter, that it is not necessary for our salvation, that we don't have all the answers in mortality, that it will be sorted out in the millennium.
Then the church actively lies. Gordon Hinkley states on national television that we don't believe that men can become gods; missionaries tell members that we are just like other christian denominations; members are told that the temple is spiritually uplifting; we are told that we have no paid clergy; we are told that satan persecuted Joseph Smith to try to stop the work of god; we are told that polygamy was never widely practiced; we are told that husbands had to get permission from the first wife; we are told that Brigham Young and Joseph Smith were benevolent, honest men; we are told that women have as much power as men, that god is no respecter of a persons color or gender--- or homosexuality. We are told that the Pearl of Great Price was translated from an ancient document, that the Book of Mormon is historically accurate. We are told that mormons are "persecuted" because they have the "fulness" of the "gospel" and "satan" wants to stop us. We are told that anything negative about the church comes from satan, and critical thinking is the first road to apostacy. We are told that apostates are sinners and evil and should be avoided.
The church lies. And it lies and it lies and it lies. Then it lies about its lies (he was misquoted, you don't understand, it was taken out of context, satan is twisting his words, this just proves the church is true, you should fast and pray about it).
The church lies, and for that alone it has no right to demand that I just have faith.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Missionaries
I see the missionaries more than I would like here in Spain. My first place, it took them about 5 months to track me down (they probably got the addy from someone in my family who is trying to save me). I had to talk to some missionaries to get them to stop irritating my roomies who worked from the piso. I was told that I had a rebellious spirit, and I am obviously in Spain to sin (reminds me of the chastity line in the dorms at BYU. Members of the opposite sex are not allowed in your bedrooms or bathrooms, as if the only place people have sex are in beds and in bathroom-wtf? Sin can happen anywhere, which is what makes satan so popular).
I see them walking down the street, trying to make contacts. They look very young to me. They should be at university; they should be with their friends; they should be devoting two years to actual service, instead of a proselyting mission masquerading as service.
That could have been me. When I graduated with my BA, I was 21, and could have gone on a mission. When I asked my dad if he would help me pay for it, he said "only if you feel like god wants you to go on a mission, not if you are just running away from real life." So I didn't go. God didn't tell me to go on a mission. The leaders of the church would rather have me married and breeding anyway.
I could also not stomach the thought of "bearing my testimony." Constantly. To strangers. I was never a good representative of the church. I don't care what others do with their life, what other people believe. It's not my place. And if god wanted them to do something, he can come down and tell them his damn self (infix swearing is my favorite kind).
I see them walking down the street, trying to make contacts. They look very young to me. They should be at university; they should be with their friends; they should be devoting two years to actual service, instead of a proselyting mission masquerading as service.
That could have been me. When I graduated with my BA, I was 21, and could have gone on a mission. When I asked my dad if he would help me pay for it, he said "only if you feel like god wants you to go on a mission, not if you are just running away from real life." So I didn't go. God didn't tell me to go on a mission. The leaders of the church would rather have me married and breeding anyway.
I could also not stomach the thought of "bearing my testimony." Constantly. To strangers. I was never a good representative of the church. I don't care what others do with their life, what other people believe. It's not my place. And if god wanted them to do something, he can come down and tell them his damn self (infix swearing is my favorite kind).
Monday, September 1, 2008
Women's rights
My last post said that feminists were one of the greatest threats to the mormon church. Let me explain that a little.
When Utah became a state, it was one of the first to allow women (or push for women to have) the right to vote. However, many factors would go against the idea that the church believes in equal rights.
First of all, the church practiced polygamy for the first years of its life (from roughly 1833-1910). Polygamy is a blatantly, horrifically sexist thing to do. Men can have more than one wife (see Brigham Young on how he thinks no more of taking a wife than buying a cow), but women cannot have more than one husband. The polygamy practiced by modern fundamentalist groups closely resembles the structure of the early church.
There are also little things. Women are never allowed to be in a position of authority over any man. Any 12 year old boy with the aaronic priesthood has more power than a woman. The highest echelons of the church are filled with men, women being an afterthought. The prophet is a man, his 14 counselors are men. The quorums of the 70s (are there 7 now? or just 4?) are all men, predominately white Americans. Next you have the Stake Presidents and Mission Presidents, all men. At a local level, everything goes through the bishop (pastor) and his two male counselors. The ward clerk is always a male.
As evidenced by the recent talk by Julie Beck, women are still seen as wives and mothers and very little more.
My own father and mother came to one of the classes I taught at university, where gender studies and critical thinking are central. After class, they asked me, "but you are not REALLY a feminist, right?" I affirmed that I was, in fact. Their response was, "but you're not really REALLY one, right?"
I am floored.
When Utah became a state, it was one of the first to allow women (or push for women to have) the right to vote. However, many factors would go against the idea that the church believes in equal rights.
First of all, the church practiced polygamy for the first years of its life (from roughly 1833-1910). Polygamy is a blatantly, horrifically sexist thing to do. Men can have more than one wife (see Brigham Young on how he thinks no more of taking a wife than buying a cow), but women cannot have more than one husband. The polygamy practiced by modern fundamentalist groups closely resembles the structure of the early church.
There are also little things. Women are never allowed to be in a position of authority over any man. Any 12 year old boy with the aaronic priesthood has more power than a woman. The highest echelons of the church are filled with men, women being an afterthought. The prophet is a man, his 14 counselors are men. The quorums of the 70s (are there 7 now? or just 4?) are all men, predominately white Americans. Next you have the Stake Presidents and Mission Presidents, all men. At a local level, everything goes through the bishop (pastor) and his two male counselors. The ward clerk is always a male.
As evidenced by the recent talk by Julie Beck, women are still seen as wives and mothers and very little more.
My own father and mother came to one of the classes I taught at university, where gender studies and critical thinking are central. After class, they asked me, "but you are not REALLY a feminist, right?" I affirmed that I was, in fact. Their response was, "but you're not really REALLY one, right?"
I am floored.
Singles wards
This is actually the name of one of the bad movies that comes out of happy valley every year. I worked in one of the restaurants in Orem for two years, and the actors of these (did I mention they were really horrible awful movies) mormon movies would come in to eat. I hated them because they would always demand star treatment--well, such as it is in Utah. They would ask to be seated in closed sections of the restaurant so they wouldn't get mobbed by adoring fans. I waited on Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, and she had no problem sitting with her friends in the middle of the restaurant. Oh, but the guy from American Pie who does the MILF, he's a jackass.
Anyway, singles wards are congregations of unmarried mormons over 18. Usually, when you turn 18, you go to Relief Society, the organization of women in the church who now do very little relieving (the name was originally meant to be a reflection of the charitable work the group did, organized by a woman who thought her husband WASN"T a lying, cheating, horny bastard). Even if you are not married at 18, you go to Relief Society, but most young adults find that uncomfortable. Lessons are on supporting your husband, teaching your children to follow the gospel. If you have no husband/child, it can be uncomfortable and seem a little pointless.
So, in areas where there is a high concentration of momons (mostly the western US and college towns. In Europe, there is only 1 singles ward, and it's in London), the leadership creates congregations entirely of single adults. The highest callings in the ward (bishop, his two counselors) are still filled by married men, but everyone else is unmarried.
It feels like such a meat market. In some singles wards, they take your picture and put it into the ward directory with things like your major/job and your interests, presumably to make the job of courting and mating more streamlined. They have weekly (sometimes daily) activities to keep the single adults busy and out of trouble. Monday is Family Home Evening (families do this Monday night in their own home, it's a family activity and a church message, but since singles have no families, this is usually done with the congregation in the bishop's home). Tuesday or Wednesday you have an activity like board games or dodgeball or a hike or playing human foozeball. There is usually a temple night or a cannery night. Then, over the weekend, you have firesides or dances.
The dances are awful. In the bad movie with the arrogant actors that I mentioned above, one of these dances is pictured. It seems to any sane individual to be a hyperbole, an exaggeration of reality to make a point. There are very awkward people, boring music, a prayer to open and close, unidentified red punch, refreshments of M&Ms. The people have to dance "appropriately" which usually means that you could fit a Book of Mormon between them. All in all, it looks like the dances that most people had in 7th grade, where the boys are on one wall and girls are on the other. Oh, and you have the really creepy man that follows the girls around asking for a dance; this is the man who is desperate to get married. He asks every girl to dance at least once, and he has creepy hands.
This is not a hyperbole. The only thing that is not accurate is there is usually more than one creepy man.
And because girls are counseled from the pulpit to not turn down me, and men are counseled from the pulpit to ask girls out and pair off and date and marry, well, you kinda have to say yes to the creepy guy who asks you to dance.
I was always told to tone down my opinions, that no guy would want to marry me when I was opinionated and a (gasp!) feminist.
By the way, the greatest threats to the mormon church are intellectuals, homosexuals, and feminists. Look it up. It was proclaimed by a prophet of god. You know, I don't trust any organization that disagrees with equal rights, loving relationships, and academic honesty.
Anyway, singles wards are congregations of unmarried mormons over 18. Usually, when you turn 18, you go to Relief Society, the organization of women in the church who now do very little relieving (the name was originally meant to be a reflection of the charitable work the group did, organized by a woman who thought her husband WASN"T a lying, cheating, horny bastard). Even if you are not married at 18, you go to Relief Society, but most young adults find that uncomfortable. Lessons are on supporting your husband, teaching your children to follow the gospel. If you have no husband/child, it can be uncomfortable and seem a little pointless.
So, in areas where there is a high concentration of momons (mostly the western US and college towns. In Europe, there is only 1 singles ward, and it's in London), the leadership creates congregations entirely of single adults. The highest callings in the ward (bishop, his two counselors) are still filled by married men, but everyone else is unmarried.
It feels like such a meat market. In some singles wards, they take your picture and put it into the ward directory with things like your major/job and your interests, presumably to make the job of courting and mating more streamlined. They have weekly (sometimes daily) activities to keep the single adults busy and out of trouble. Monday is Family Home Evening (families do this Monday night in their own home, it's a family activity and a church message, but since singles have no families, this is usually done with the congregation in the bishop's home). Tuesday or Wednesday you have an activity like board games or dodgeball or a hike or playing human foozeball. There is usually a temple night or a cannery night. Then, over the weekend, you have firesides or dances.
The dances are awful. In the bad movie with the arrogant actors that I mentioned above, one of these dances is pictured. It seems to any sane individual to be a hyperbole, an exaggeration of reality to make a point. There are very awkward people, boring music, a prayer to open and close, unidentified red punch, refreshments of M&Ms. The people have to dance "appropriately" which usually means that you could fit a Book of Mormon between them. All in all, it looks like the dances that most people had in 7th grade, where the boys are on one wall and girls are on the other. Oh, and you have the really creepy man that follows the girls around asking for a dance; this is the man who is desperate to get married. He asks every girl to dance at least once, and he has creepy hands.
This is not a hyperbole. The only thing that is not accurate is there is usually more than one creepy man.
And because girls are counseled from the pulpit to not turn down me, and men are counseled from the pulpit to ask girls out and pair off and date and marry, well, you kinda have to say yes to the creepy guy who asks you to dance.
I was always told to tone down my opinions, that no guy would want to marry me when I was opinionated and a (gasp!) feminist.
By the way, the greatest threats to the mormon church are intellectuals, homosexuals, and feminists. Look it up. It was proclaimed by a prophet of god. You know, I don't trust any organization that disagrees with equal rights, loving relationships, and academic honesty.
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