Yesterday was my second day back to church (my own home church, the local LDS ward) in three months. Now that I think about it, “I went back to church” is kind of an odd thing to say, considering that I‚Äôve been aggressively visiting a variety of churches for the past few months.
Overall, it was a pleasant though emotionally complex experience. It was fast and testimony meeting—open mic Sunday—and every one shared positive personal experiences and witnesses. Not one person used explicitly exclusive language (e.g. “this Church is true” and not, “this is the *only* true Church”), which I appreciated. Ironically, I think that my being generous with people from other traditions for the past few months allowed me to experience the expressions from believers within my own religion more generously.
In spite of my lax attendance, the bishopric allowed me to confer the lower priesthood to my son, to ordain him a deacon in the LDS church and to give him a blessing. I’m not sure how to express my feelings concerning this. I felt great pride in my son—he is a young man of the highest integrity, intelligence and compassion, and it was wonderful to see others publicly acknowledge some of these in him. Receiving the priesthood is, for Mormon boys, a coming of age. He attended priesthood opening exercises with me and all the other men in the ward for the first time. Next time he goes to church he will participate in the highly visible role of passing the sacrament (Eucharist) to members of the congregation. These are all significant rites of passage for adolescent Mormon boys.
At the same time I felt pride for my son, I felt grief that my daughter would not be able experience anything comparable.
After the ordination, I attended a Sunday school class taught by my best friend in the ward. His focus was on acknowledging the weaknesses of the highest leaders in the Church, something that members are loathe to do. It was an atypical lesson—not for my friend, but to hear in the conservative church.
Finally, I taught the Elder’s Quorum (essentially the men between 18 and 40) lesson. My assigned topic was the atonement of Christ, and I avoided the emphasis on obedience from the manual, and instead I problematized standard contemporary LDS ways of understanding the concept (which are kind of legalistic). Instead, I brought in ideas from Christian theologians that I thought might enrich Mormon understanding of Christ’s sacrifice. Highlights included my experience at the AME church, which I presented in a positive light, and Christ’s roles as prophet, priest and king: illuminating, reconciling and vanquishing for humanity’s sake. I closed by saying that I couldn’t understand the atonement in terms of feelings of forgiveness (some men of the men had shared personal experiences in which they had received forgiveness), but I envisioned it in terms of my love for my children—I rejoice when they rejoice, and I suffer when they suffer, and I would do anything to ease their torment. I then extrapolated this to God’s infinite empathy for his children. This is one of my favorite themes, and I stress it every time I teach. I emphasize that Mormons, as the literal offspring of God, should strive towards having Godlike empathy and compassion towards all others.
Teaching in the LDS church is a tightrope act for me. I am open, though not specific, about my doubts. My goal every lesson is to challenge some typical Mormon approach to the subject matter. I try to teach things that support my core values (independent spirituality, priority of conscience, compassion, humanism, and sometimes even feminism and pacifism) using the experiences, metaphors and symbols that I share with these men. I try not to be dishonest, though I am well aware that many things I say metaphorically are interpreted literally. A few of the more attentive listeners have commented on my careful selection of words, but not disparagingly. My lessons are generally received very well—as interesting, provocative, sincere and uplifting. This one seemed to be received similarly, which was very satisfying.
I wonder how long I’ll continue doing this? Partly I persevere because I love teaching, because I love the men I have the privilege to teach, and because of encouragement from the Elder’s Quorum presidency and my friend Jana Riess.
Next week, my family will attend a high liturgical Easter service at our dear friend’s Episcopalian church. Stay tuned!
10 responses so far ↓
1 Miko // Apr 11, 2006 at 6:22 pm
Wow. Just…wow. I wish everyone (including myself) was religious the way you are religious. I sympathize with your experiences & hope that you can find a way to let your daughter become an adult spiritually—for both of you. I also hope, for your sake and for the sake of your students, that you continue to teach at your church. I don’t know or claim to understand the forum of teaching to your peers within LDS, but many religious can benefit from hearing the open thoughts of others within the context of their religion.
I must admit that I enjoy attending & participating in Catholic bible study, simply because it’s familiar to me and I like to understand where my family is coming from.
2 John // Apr 12, 2006 at 9:11 am
Miko, thanks for your encouragement–not everyone wishes that they were religious in my way!
I also appreciate your well-wishes for me and my daughter. I’m glad to find someone who values some of the same, compassionate approaches to spirituality and religion.
I find the familiar very comforting as well. When I am sick, I sometimes ask for a priesthood blessing, which is the traditional Mormon healing rite. But sometimes I’m just as comforted by my wife’s prayers.
Davis, you bring up a good point. I struggle constantly with various issues of integrity in the Church. From a traditional LDS perspective, there shouldn’t be a conflict between being a faithful Mormon and having integrity, but I often find myself in these situations (think of the oft-repeated advice, “Even if you don’t believe it, bear testimony” and the Spirit will confirm, etc.).
I sometimes find myself in a position of conflicting integrities, where I have to choose one or the other. But most of all, I am often in positions where being completely true to my conscience would not be compassionate to my family. I navigate the treacherous shoals the best I can.
I think the counselors in the bishopric were aware of my doubts (I’ve spent a number of hours discussing my faith struggles with the Bishop, and they contacted him before proceeding). I think that they are happy just to have me involved and supportive at any level. And I suspect they are exercising some wisdom and insight into human relations (and basic compassion) when they let a somewhat active father ordain his son. My son is probably more likely to remain active because of it, and I’m less likely to feel cut off from the Church.
3 pilgrimgirl // Apr 12, 2006 at 9:16 am
Davis:
Exactly what does “the Priesthood” teach you that John wasn’t following? Can you explain what his integrity has to do with it?
D&C 121 (generally understood to be a primer on ‘the priesthood’) says that “No power… ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned.” I see none of those qualities displayed in your comment. I see all of those qualities embodied in John’s approach to other people (Mormon or not).
4 shadow // Apr 12, 2006 at 1:37 pm
Very interesting post John. I haven’t read the whole thread on your pilgrimage. So do you have a calling as an EQ instructor? Have you kept the calling while on your pilgrimage?
I’ve been considering something similar myself, but I’m not quite sure how to deal with my calling without burdening others or becoming a “project” for the bishopric. The logistics of it are a bit problematic for me to work through.
Best of luck on your pilgrimage. I’ll be checking back regularly now that I’ve found this blog.
5 Caroline T. // Apr 12, 2006 at 7:35 pm
John,
I agree with Pilgrimgirl completely. And I think your reflective response to Davis’ comment demonstrates a tremendous amount of charity and tolerance on your part. Bravo.
I think it is wonderful that you were able to ordain your son a deacon. I’m sure that meant a lot to him—and to your wife and daughter too. My own father is an atheist, but he has always been 100% supportive of my religious convictions. He has many doubts concerning God and religion, but he has never tried to tear down my testimony or question my beliefs. In high school, he even came to sacrament meeting with me and my siblings every Sunday. And so I think it’s beautiful when a father (or mother) gives unanimous support to his child’s religious beliefs.
It’s so ironic, isn’t it? Sometimes the most tolerant people in this world are the ones who have no religious convictions at all.
6 Nate Oman // Apr 13, 2006 at 2:31 pm
Caroline T.: John’s response to Davis’s comment was powerful not simply because it shows tolerance and charity (”Look how nice he is to that jerk! What a guy!”) but also because he has the honest to recognize that there is a real dilemma involved in participating in the rituals and ordinances of a faith that one questions or disbelieves. There real ethical problems involved in the place of one’s own beliefs when one is given the position of teacher in for a community.
If I go to the Dome of the Rock and pray toward Mecca because I am curious and what to experience what that spirituality might be like without necessarily having any commitment to Islam, there is a sense in which my action — despite the flattery involved in curiousity — is blasphemous and offensive to those of the Ummah who pray there.
I think it would be wrong for a LDS to question John’s ability or worthiness to ordain his son. That is not a decision that is committed to members of the Church at large. I think that one ought to accept those with doubts and questions as full citizens with the Saints and fellow laborers in the Kingdom of God.
On the other hand, tolerance is not a magic solvent that eliminates the difficult questions of ethics, faith, and commitment.
7 John // Apr 13, 2006 at 11:06 pm
I’m grateful for everyone’s generosity. I’m not sure if I was as charitable as was described (as committed as Gandhi was to the principles of non-violence, he was still savvy to its effects on public perception). And I do often make against myself the same accusation that Davis made.
Shadow, welcome! I am an EQ instructor, and I’m continually amazed that they keep me in the calling. My goal is to balance at least part-time activity in the Church with the pilgrimage. I hope you’ll share your experiences as you work things out. Maybe we can compare notes.
Caroline, thank you for sharing your experience with your father growing up. Your father sounds like a wonderful man! It helps me to think more from my son’s perspective. Sometimes I’m too focused on my own.
Nate, you make good points and have no clear answers. Curse you!
I can understand why many believers (and unbelievers) want to encourage an all-or-nothing, “you’re either in or out” approach to religiosity, but even religions with strict identity requirements like Mormonism offer a quite a bit of leeway. My experience is that as long as I’m not antagonistic or subversive, Church members and leaders can be very accomodating. This gives me the space to try to work things out (like my doubts, and questions of integrity) without being forced to reject the whole enchilada the moment I run into serious questions. I’m grateful for that space.
Blogging gives us some room in which to work as well.
8 Nate Oman // Apr 14, 2006 at 4:52 am
John: Ahhh…. But if it was an all or nothing thing, then there wouldn’t really be that much in the way of difficulties, would there? It is precisely because the location and import of boundaries is difficult that we face the tough (and fun!) questions.
I think that it is a real tragedy when people are “forced out” because they have doubts about being fully “in.” On the other hand, I object to the idea that tolerance or open-mindedness relieves of us of the obligation to work out the limits of what being “in” or “out” or someplace in between properly entails or should relieve us of discomfort about the ethical implications of our choices. To do so strikes me as both intellectually lazy (and boring!) and in some sense profound disrespectful of the idea of community.
9 sarah // Apr 22, 2006 at 2:11 pm
I know this post has been up for quite awhile . . . I just wanted to stop in and say thank you. For these words especially: “Ironically, I think that my being generous with people from other traditions for the past few months allowed me to experience the expressions from believers within my own religion more generously.” I’ve given quite a bit of thought to this phrase over the past several days, and had more than one good conversation as a result. Thank you for sharing these thoughts, and for teaching me through them.
10 John // Apr 24, 2006 at 10:13 pm
Sarah, you’re very kind. Thank you for your generous affirmation.
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