Book of Mormon Musical Part 2

Part two of my Book of Mormon: The Musical review.

 

PART 2: LEAVING THINGS BETTER

There was a message of leaving things better than when you found them.  The other missionary (Elder Price) goes on a mission to change the world…all by himself. He does not want and does not think he needs the help of anyone else. It should come as no surprise that this is the missionary who struggles the most. His mission is not what he planned. It is hard. It is really hard. It is not what he expected it would be. It is not what he was told it would be. He read the BOM and was ready to “teach” the world. But what he was never taught to do was to listen. He did not know how to listen to the people around him. The villagers needed help but not the help he wanted to give. He wanted them to listen to his every word. He wanted them to see how much better he was than they were. He wanted the villagers to want to be like him and to appreciate what he was offering them. The messenger was more important than the message. Well, that didn’t happen, and he gave up. Several times he repeated the same pattern. What he finally learned (through the “imagination teachings” of the other missionary) is that he needs to not only open his eyes and look around him, but that he needs to look around him as well. People are not the same; people have different needs. He went on his mission to change the world the way he wanted to, the way he was told to, but to really make a difference, to truly serve, he needed to open his eyes and see what the people really needed. In this case, they needed hope first, and then they needed someone to not just preach to them, but to really stay and help improve their physical lives. This was interesting to me because I did not expect it. I did not know how the musical was going to end, and the ending made me love the musical that much more. He learned that helping people means more than preaching and baptizing and leaving. It means staying to make a difference. It means selfless service, and sometimes that selfless service means to sacrifice the thing you were there do in the first place. The people heard the gospel according to Arnold; they accepted that gospel because, in the end, the gospel according to Arnold gave them the hope they  needed, gave this missionary the kick in the butt he needed to truly leave things better than when he arrived.  He ended the musical a better person. And, in the end, he and the other missionaries stay in Uganda to support them and to continue the hope they brought. They do not give them hope and leave…they stay to nurture that hope. To help it grow into something greater. Something that can be sustained even after the missionaries leave.

The Book of Mormon: THE MUSICAL

First, let me say that I do not offend easily. And I was not offended by Book of Mormon: The Musical. It was irreverent. It was funny. It was intelligent. It was fantastic!

I went to see the BOM musical tonight. It was absolutely wonderful. Did it make fun of Mormons? Of course it did. Was it funny? Of course it was. But there was something even better about it than the humor. *(I will say that I do not remember the last time I laughed so hard.)

I have so many things to say about this musical that I am going to do it parts. Seriously, I have  A LOT to say! I should also say there are spoilers in my thoughts. Sorry.

Part 1: HOPE

There was a message of hope. Yes, I am aware that many people think that some of my beliefs are weird. Some people think my beliefs are just plain crazy, but does that negate the message of hope hope that my faith brings? It most certainly does not.

What was so profound about the musical was that it does just that. It takes the fiction of today and uses the vehicle of Mormon missionaries to show that it does not matter the story that is told, what matters is the hope it brings. In the musical one of the missionariesb (Arnold) has never read the BOM, and it becomes his responsibility to teach a group of people who are in need of help. He reads to them, and they get frustrated and ask, “How does this help me, here and now? How does this book tell me how to deal with                     (Fill in the blank)?”  The missionary, not knowing how to answer, adds his own imagination to the BOM, giving the people the words they want to hear. Make no mistake, the “imaginations” of this missionary are just plain ludicrous. But they give the people the hope they need. He gives them hope, and with that hope come a happier and better people. Are they suddenly transformed to a better place? No. Do they get rich and become healthy overnight? No. But what they do find is togetherness. They find hope in helping one another. It does not matter whether the stories are true or not; what matters is that the missionary (unintentional though it may be) gives the villagers hope that they can be happy even the most terrible of circumstances.

It's been a while

I won't go into detail about where I have been...that is for another post...but I have been on such a journey of faith, hope, humility, and gratitude.

That said, let me get to the purpose of this post: I am a feminist. I have shuddered at the thought of making this declaration for a long time now, but after months of thinking and praying, I am, in fact, a feminist.

As an active and happy Latter Day Saint woman, let me tell you first what this means to me:

• I do not want the Priesthood, and I do not think women should have the Priesthood. I am not the only Mormon Feminist to think so, but there is a large number who DO want the Priesthood. I am not a feminist in that category. While I understand those concerns and frustrations, I do not share that desire. I have gone through fire within myself to answer this question, and I stand by that. There is a divine plan for both sexes which I take on faith. 
• That divine plan is not motherhood. I do not think that Priesthood and motherhood should be equated.  One is biology, the other is not. I hate it when people say, "Women don't need the Priesthood because we can have babies." Seriously, that is bunk. I am biologically created to bear children. A penis or the production of sperm does not biologically give a man the Priesthood. If it did, men would not need to be ordained. By nature of their birth (with a penis), they would have that authority.
• I am not sure what that divine plan looks like, and I am okay with that. I take it on faith.

Just because I do not think women should have the Priesthood does not mean that I do not think that women should be treated less because they do not have the Priesthood. Yes, the church teaches the adoration of women. It praises women to high heaven. However, there is a missing element in how  people in the church treat women. Women are rarely respected as leaders. Women cannot pray in General Conference. Young boys are taught that the Priesthood leads and the rest follow. Yes, the Priesthood leads, but that does not mean that women cannot be effective leaders in the church. This is something that needs to be taught. We need to teach our young boys and young men that the words a woman leader in the church says are just as important as what a male leader says. We need to teach our young men that respecting a woman also means listening to her wisdom. That strength in a woman is a good thing. I have always gotten sideways glances at church because I am a woman who is not afraid to speak out, not afraid to lead. I also speak out when I think women are being looked over simply because they are women.

Women should not be subjected to judgement because they are outspoken, strong, and opinionated. That should be celebrated. Women should not be subjected to judgement because they choose to wear pants to church. That should not even be an issue. The Young Women's President should have just as much influence in a Ward as the Young Men's President. The Relief Society President should have just as much influence as the Elder's Quorum President. Young girls and young women should be celebrated equally to the young boys and young men when they accomplish something. The expectations that we set for our young women should be just as high as those set for our young men.

Women should not be criticized and judged because of their bodies. We are not "walking pornography" for men. Men and women need to check their own thoughts and be accountable for them. The young women of the church should be encouraged to be leaders, to get educations, to wait to get married, to go on missions. They should be taught that their worth is the same as the young men. They should be taught that their worth is never dependent on the length of their skirt.

I have so much more that I could go on about, but for now, I will just leave it as that. I am a feminist.

I have been blessed

I have been blessed with the gift of great faith. Faith has  never been difficult for me. It is just something that has always been a part of me. That is not to say that I don't question. That I don't doubt. I do, both. But, I have always had a great faith. I do not believe everything that I am  told; in fact,I believe hardly anything that I am told. I study, I pray, I think, I question. And when I am satisfied with the process and feel that I have an answer, I have faith in whatever principle, commandment, or idea.

Today, I taught the Relief Society Lesson #17 on Faith. (I don't remember the whole title,  but it was from the George Albert Smith book). The examples in that lesson are BIG examples. Examples of seemingly impossible tasks that required faith in the Lord to accomplish or overcome. While I love those faith affirming examples, I decided to take a different route for my lesson.

I started with the fact that if Heavenly Father came to me and told me that I needed to move across the country, I would do it in a heartbeat. If  he told me to build a boat, I would do it. Because I have faith. I went on to say that all of us in the room would do what Heavenly Father told us to do. Those are the easy pieces of faith. (And the unlikely pieces of faith because Heavenly Father does not just come down and tell us things  face to face....at least not to the people I know.)

The hard part of faith is the little things. It is knowing that after four years of pure hell...of adversity, or difficultly, of frustration, of depression, that things are going to be okay in the end.

I was terrified when my husband was sick for over a year, but I had faith that everything would be okay. Did I know what that "okay" would look like? No, I didn't. It very easily could have been my life as a widowed mother of two. It came close to that. Was I scared? You bet I was, but I had faith that everything would happen as it was supposed to. While it did not make the challenge easier, it made it more  bearable. Even when I was pressed down by the world and when I felt the world was gathering against me. When I was alone and scared and needed to be strong for my husband and children, I had a strong faith that lifted me up and helped me to continue putting one foot in front of the other.

And this year,  while my son is sick and we don't know what is wrong. While we know that it is dangerous and needs to be fixed, I have faith that things will be okay. Again, I don't know what "okay" looks like. And quite frankly, it terrifies me. I have had the "What if" thoughts in my head. I can't imagine my life without him. I can't imagine the pain of losing him. My entire being runs away from those thoughts, but that doesn't allow me  to escape them. I still have faith, and that faith gives me peace and comfort. Even when I do not know what the rest of this trial will look like. I have faith.

I have faith. Faith that my Heavenly Father loves me. Faith that He suffers with me. Faith that everything happens for a reason. I may not know why things happen, I may not know how long these trials will last, but I have faith that I am never alone. I have faith that Heavenly Father has blessed me the strength and ability to overcome these trials and accomplish all that He asks of me. And right now, He is asking me to walk with faith through these trials.

When enough is enough

What do you do when you are not a welcome part of your own family? You know, the people you grew up with? The people who were supposed to be there for you when you need them?

My son is sick, major sick. You wouldn't know it to look at him, but there are potentially life-threatening things happening inside his little body. He will have surgery as soon as the doctors have some idea what they are dealing with.

I am...freaking out. I am holding it together for the sake of my kids and husband. Thankfully, my wonderful husband and I have our breakdowns on different schedules. It is a small blessing in our chaos. Thankfully, my husband's family has been wonderful. Our friend's have been amazing. Our ward has been amazing. We feel loved and supported by more people than we could have hoped for.

With one exception.

I emailed the people I grew up with...my siblings. We are all close in age, all four of us. After first learning of this, I emailed to tell them what I know. Things have been strained for the last several years. I have been excluded from many things. Not get-togethers, but information. Important information about the family. Everyone else seemed to know for a while by the time I was told anything. They don't call me, and they never ask how things are going. I tried for a long time to bridge the gap, but it only proved to show me exactly how big the gap really is.

So I considered not telling them, but I decided that would be unfair. I thought, "It is their nephew; of course they will care." I thought I would give them a chance to show that they actually do care about my family. I thought not telling them would be selfish. Wouldn't they want to know about their nephew's life? I could hear them calling me selfish for not telling them. I could hear the yelling..."How could you not tell us about something so big with our nephew?"

So I told them.

I emailed them. I emailed everyone who does not live within 10 miles of me because I just can't talk about it without sobbing. It takes everything I have to not sob in front of my children, so there is no way I could make all the calls saying the same thing over and over again. An email was efficient. I apologized for the email and explained that I just could not re-tell it twelve different times. I told them they could call and talk to me and talk to my son. (Incidentally, I called my parents first and emailed my siblings as soon as I hung up. My parents reacted the way grandparents should. With support. With fear. Even with love---also surprising, but for another post.

But what did I get from my siblings? A one line email from each of them, saying something along the lines of "poor thing". THIS IS NOT A POOR THING MOMENT!

This is a pick-up-the-damn-phone-and-call-your-sister-and-nephew moment.

But I didn't get that. I got equivalent to nothing. Nothing at all. That was weeks ago, and still I have received nothing. Not an email. Not a text. Not a phone call. My son has received nothing. Not an email. Not a text. Not a phone call. Nothing. He wonders where they are. Other people have called. Sent cards. Added prayers to ours.

So I am walking away. I am tired of being the selfish one without reason or justification. I have lived my whole life with them telling me that I am selfish. It was never selfish. It was always self-preservation, from the abuse that I endured from my earliest memory.

This is not the first time this something like this has happened, but it will be the last. This time I am going to be selfish. I am thinking of my children. My own well being.  Being a part of the poison that is my "family" is just too much. Too much strain on my family. So, I am walking away. I don't understand why this all happened the way it did, but I do understand that I can't do this anymore. I have to take care of my son, my children, my husband, my family.

Piercings and Tattoos (and some commentary)

There has been a lot of talk on the internet on this subject, so I thought I would take a stab.

Tattoos first; I don't have any. That is not to say I have never wanted one. When I was 20 I really wanted a daisy on my ankle, or maybe on my hip. The problem? I HATE needles, and the thoughts of a needle with INK being stuck in my body thousands of time to produce a drawing was just not appealing to me. I love daisies but not that much. I also struggled with the idea of having something from my early 20s a permanent part of my body when I turn 80. I can't imagine it would look pretty 60 years later. So, no tattoos for me.

Piercings: I have my ears pierced the standard once in each ear. When I was 15, I pierced just my left ear. That stayed until I turned 18 and went to a school (not a church school) where only one piercing was allowed. When I turned 20, instead of getting the aforementioned tattoo, I pierced both ears a second time. They are still pierced. I took the second piercing out when I was YW President (lest I lead the girls astray with the extra holes in my ears), but put them back in a month after I was released. Earlier this year, I took them out again. I will probably put them back in again. I like my double ear piercings. I really do, and I do not think that a suggestion from a prophet equals a commandment. It is not doctrinal, and with this I struggle.

Earlier this year, I wrote this post about removing my second piercing. I still feel the peace that I felt then, but now I am not sure that a second piercing for me is rebellious.  Does a second piercing make me unworthy? No, it doesn't. Does it make me immodest? No, it doesn't.

Now, a friend of mine will ask if a faithful LDS person cannot follow the suggestion of a prophet, will she follow the doctrine of the Church? This is an interesting question, and, at first, I liked it. However, I think it is too simplistic  a view.  I go to the Temple. I honor my covenants. I go to church. I pay a full tithe. I obey the Word of Wisdom. I am active in the Gospel (not just the church). I honor I body and my soul.  And a second piercing in my ears does not take away from that. A piercing in my nose (which I don't have, but I do know several wonderful people who do) does not make me unrighteous. To me, there is little difference between one piercing and two. They are both vain decorations. It is not part of my culture to pierce my ears. I did it because I wanted pretty and shiny things adorning my ears. I am not putting my second piercings back in, but this post just has me thinking about the perceived meaning of two ear piercings versus the actual meaning of the piercings.

Three Personal Traits that I am Proud of

1. Faith. I am a woman of faith. I accept that there are things that I do not understand. That is not to say that I do not try to understand everything I can, but I know that everything happens for a reason. I live my life based on this faith. I think, I question, but in the end, I live my life based on my faith.

2. Accepting. I am incredibly accepting of all people, regardless of who they are, what they do, or anything else. I know that every person I meet is a child of God. A child that God loves. I try to live every day with this in mind. My students tell me that they know that my classroom is a place without judgement. Where they can come and be. That I will accept them regardless of their past or their present. That I will listen to whatever struggles they have and not judge. That I accept each of them for what they are. I truly believe that each person is more than his/her actions, and I accept that about every person I meet. I love that my students know this. I love that my friends know this. Jesus said, "As I have loved you, love one another." I always remember this and remember that Jesus accepted and loved every single person he came in contact with. He never turned away from anyone. I try to live my life as He did.

3. Intelligent. I have a thirst for knowledge. In my Patriarchal Blessing, it talks about my intelligence and my love of learning. I love the words in that blessing because it truly showed me that Heavenly Father knows who I am. I did not know the Patriarch prior to walking into his home, but the words which he pronounced upon me were me. They were Heavenly Father telling me that He knows me and loves me. I have always loved learning; school is something that always came easy for me. I worked hard, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I still want to learn everything I can. In the 130th section of the Doctrine and Covenants it states, "Whatever principle of intelligence we attain unto in this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection. And if a person gains more knowledge and intelligence in this life through his diligence and obedience than another, he will have so much the advantage in the world to come. There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated." I love this scripture so much, and it is another thing by which I live my life.

Here is the thing about these traits; often times people in my ward do not think they should go hand in hand. Take, for example, Faith and Intelligence. I cannot count how many times that I have heard that I need to put my educational aspirations aside and "focus" on my family. I focus on my family just fine. My children are proud of the fact that their mother is intelligent. I can not only help them with their homework (regardless of the subject), but I can also hold an intelligent conversation with them. My children are both naturally intelligent, and they are fortunate and blessed to have two parents who are not only intelligent, but that can help to develop the their intelligence!

Because of my desire for knowledge and education, I have student loans. They are just a part of my life. After we had children, I could not be the fulltimestayathomemom that everyone expected because I needed to work to make my loan student loan payment. I worked around 20 hours a week. My husband had a weird work schedule, so it worked out that when I was working, he was home with the boys. My boys were never in daycare (we could not afford it.) Well, several friends commented to me, "Isn't it funny how you spent all that money and went into debt to get your degree, but if you would have not gone to college, you wouldn't have to work now?" I was livid. I responded, "Yes, that may be true; however, I then I would not have a college degree." My intelligence is important to me. My education is important to me. It is a part of who I am, just like my faith.