feminism | first fig

August 12, 2008

What Mary Kay Women Know

I sat through a two hour Mary Kay sales pitch a couple of Saturdays ago. This is not my usual choice of weekend activities but I was cajoled into going under false pretenses. You see, I have been living in the wonderful world of bridedom this summer. My younger sister got married three weeks ago and I had forgotten just how exploited this particular population is. (Watch this video, I promise it will make your day). My sister “won” a free pampering session for ten people through one of those horrible bridal registries and invited me and our younger sister to go get a free facial and massage. Despite all of my feminist rantings about the superficiality of the beauty industry, I am not one to turn down a massage, especially at eight-months pregnant. So Saturday found me kissing my husband and baby monster goodbye and happily skipping away to join my sisters for a morning of pampering and relaxation.

I’m not sure what tipped us off first, maybe it was the “Think Pink” slogans plastered on the walls or the huge bouquets of frothy, pink tissue paper flowers that decorated the entire room but we quickly figured out that we had walked straight into a pink-colored Mary Kay trap. There was no facial or massage to look forward to, just a two hour presentation on the joys of being a Mary Kay consultant. (In the interest of full disclosure, I did have the “opportunity” to exfoliate half of my face with the dollop of microderm abrasion cream they gave me and massage some night time lotion into my hand so I guess Mary Kay played us fair.)

As I sat there listening about the wonders of pink Cadillacs and the free, over-sized gold jewelry, I couldn’t help but compare the Mary Kay culture with the culture of women in the Mormon church. Of course there were the obvious comparison like the tacky floral arrangements and centerpieces, the be-ribboned favors and the smell of synthetic sugar and spice that hits you right in the face. But the deeper similarities went to the language used and the assumptions of what an ideal woman is. I swear the keynote speaker gave the Mary Kay version of President Julie Beck’s “Mothers Who Know” speech. I took some notes and thought that I’d share them here.

Mary Kay women understand how important things like food, free stuff and fun activities are.
Mary Kay women know that appearences are important and always take time to look presentable.
Mary Kay women understand that their priorities have always been God first, family second and career third.
Mary Kay women know that if they have their priorities straight, they will be rewarded with beautiful homes, nice cars, expensive jewelry and good kids.
Mary Kay women understand that because they know their priorites, other women’s children (read working women’s children) will call them mom and other women will be jealous of the magical life Mary Kay women lead.

Before some of you get too offended and start cursing my name, I deeply respect the mission of Mary Kay to help women have a career and feel good about themselves. I believe that all women want to belong to a group and have their choices validated. I was amazed when the Mary Kay consultants talked about how they appreciated their organizations focus on helping women achieve their priorites and become their best selves. These women became emotional when talking about the wonderful women they met through their work and how they would drop everything to help a sister consultant. I hear this same sentiment expressed every week in my Relief Society, and yet there are thousands of women who hate Relief Society and find being a Mormon woman exquisitely painful.

Mary Kay and the Relief Society are not that fundamentally different; both organizations exist to create a space for women in male-dominated institutions. So why is it that one group has a much higher satisfaction rate than the other? I believe the difference lies in choices. If I choose to be a Mary Kay consultant, I am choosing the culture of Mary Kay. If I don’t like pink cadillacs, flashy jewelry and talking about make-up then I can choose a different career. Mary Kay women know that their choices will be supported because they have surrounded themselves with women who have made similar choices.

The same is not necessarily true for Mormon women; I may choose to be a faithful member of the church but I may not want to choose the culture of the Mormon church. I may not want to hear the overblown rhetoric about motherhood but if I want to go to my church meetings and interact with my fellow latter-day saints, then there is really no escaping it. This can be an incredibly isolating place for a woman to be and it behooves us as sisters and Christians to be sympathetic of that.

The controversy over President Beck’s “Mothers Who Know” talk is the perfect example of this. Many women, both liberal and conservative, were hurt by this talk, not because they necessarily disagreed with Julie Beck’s actual words but were pained by the implication of what those words meant to them. The latest “firestorm” at the Sunstone Symposium only proves further how deep the wounds are and how many have been wounded. The uproar that has ensued over the past ten months has left many scratching their heads and wondering why this talk? How is it any different from what has been said over the past thirty years?

Might I suggest that it is because the rhetoric of ideal womanhood and motherhood is no longer effective in a worldwide and rapidly progressing church. From what I understand, women outside of the United States don’t get what all the fuss is about because they found the talk benign at best, irrelevant at worst. American women, however, have spent years fighting the Mommy Wars. The frontlines have been populated by members of traditional churches such as the Mormon church and women have been their best warriors. Both sides have exploited their women until there was nothing left to battle over and an uneasy cease-fire was called.

For Mormon women, that cease-fire was broken by President Beck. But instead of turning their ammuntion on the enemy, women turned their guilt and self-doubt on themselves. How many stories have we read of faithful women breaking out into tears because their deepest and most vulnerable fears were confirmed by the very woman who was supposed to be representing them? In the pain and anguish, some women have lashed out indiscriminately at women who should be their sisters and allies in the hope of validating their choices to a God who apparently sees nothing but their success as a mother.

A new war of ideas is needed, one that will ensure the unity of Mormon women. So this is my battle cry, the one that I hope provides me with an organization that I can fully choose:
It is time that church leaders and lay members alike retire the old motherhood rhetoric and refocus our efforts on what will make us all better children of God…becoming disciples of Jesus Christ. No one–no one–is excluded from the call of Jesus to “Come follow me.” Not the working mother or the over-run stay at home mom. Jesus asks all of us, whether we are single or married, uneducated or educated, feminist or not, to be his disciples. He wants us to serve the poor and disenfranchised, to stand up against injustice in the world and demand that someone pay attention. We must love as God loves or we cannot call ourselves true disciples of Christ. That means we cannot judge other women on their mothering choices and expect to hit the mark of becoming perfect, even as our Savior is perfect. When we as individuals and a combined church focus on true discipleship–for all women and men–rather than perfectly-ironed white shirts and missionary haircuts, then we can claim the privelege of building up the Church of Christ and the Kingdom of God.

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May 1, 2008

How a Feminist Falls in Love

I have been asked on more than one occasion how I managed to fall in love. I think when people ask this question, they’re not so much making a statement on my personality qualities but rather my general cynicism towards patriarchal institutions such as marriage. I think it is a fair question so I thought I would share the moment my feminist self fell in love.

I was a full blown feminist well before I met my husband. I had plans of going to Oxford, studying women’s history and becoming a brilliant academic. Falling in love was not in my life plan. I won’t bore you with the nitty-gritty details of our courtship; it involves a lot of flakiness on my part, a hero’s share of patience by DH and the poetry of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Suffice it to say, I knew by the second date that DH was perfect and I spent the next five months trying unsuccessfully to get rid of him.

An effective tactic that I often used to scare away BYU boys was going on frequent feminist rants. It was always amazing to me that as soon as I started talking about equality and how Jesus was a feminist the conversation/date/relationship was over.

I tried doing this to DH but he agreed with me and found my thoughts refreshing. When my soft feminism didn’t work, I pulled out my pro-choice, socialist, anti-patriarchy stump speeches hoping that would do the trick but DH only found me more fascinating and invigorating.

In May of 2005, we went to go see three one act plays about Mormon women performed at BYU. During the intermission I was flipping through the program and noticed an advertisement for one of the local jewelry stores in the Provo area. It was your typical engagement ring ad, a flaxen haired beauty with a dreamy look in her eyes bathed in warm light. What got me was the caption, “Show her how much you really love her.” Of course, the only way to show the girl of your dreams that you really love her is to buy a 3 ct. princess cut diamond ring.

This presented the perfect opportunity for me to make some comments about the materialistic nature of the marriage market which, of course, morphed into a tirade about the misogynistic symbolism of heterosexual marriage. It went something like this:

“The engagement ring is the western world’s answer to a bride price. It symbolically says that a man has paid a price for a woman and that she now belongs to him. The ring is a symbol of ownership and objectification that women wear to proclaim that they belong to somebody. With that ring, a man has bought a woman’s body, her sexuality, reproduction and domestic labor. It is blood money that requires women to give up their individuality and become domestic and sexual servants.”

Without missing a beat, DH looked at me and said, “Oh M*, that is ridiculous!”

Usually DH would nod in agreement or ignore my more militant feminist snipes but this time he proceeded to give me his perfectly reasonable and romantic view of the engagement ring, something he saw as a gift of love, freely given.

I was delighted by his response; not because I necessarily agreed with him but because he hadn’t let me walk all over him. I had had other boyfriends who always acquiesced to my opinions or, even worse, thought that my opinions weren’t worth having a conversation about. I didn’t want to be in a relationship where I was placed on a pedestal for my intellect or divine womanhood. Likewise, I didn’t want to be with a man who thought my ideas were silly and not worth responding to. I knew that with DH, we might not always agree but he respected me enough as a person to engage with me as an equal.

When I look back at our courtship, I always pinpoint this moment as the one that made me fall in love. I was looking for a man that I could be equals with; three years later, I know I made the right choice.

As for engagement rings, I still think that they are a type of bride price but my opinion has moderated somewhat. Did I get an engagement ring when the time came? Yep…but it was also my wedding band which is a symbol I can totally get behind.

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April 11, 2008

Outing at a Book Club

I went to the Relief Society’s book club last night. We just moved into my parent’s ward so my mother has been strongly encouraging me to participate in ward activities. I have been to the last two Enrichment activities and a ward social…I almost don’t recognize myself, this is so unlike me.

Last night was the first meeting of the book club in over a year so instead of discussing a book, there was a discussion on how this book club was going to be different. Now you might ask how a book club could be different, don’t you just read a book and then discuss it? Typically yes, but because the last book club had discussed some books with naughty words and a few sex scenes, the bishop now has to approve our choice of books. Yes, you did read that right, the bishop will be approving the book before we are allowed to read it.

I’m poking fun but this doesn’t really bother me. If the bishop’s stamp of approval helps some women feel better about reading I guess that’s a good thing. Plus, I can still read whatever I want (Playboy magazine articles here I come!)

After we discussed several books that might be interesting, the conversation divulged into pleasant chitter-chatter about various topics. One woman mentioned that she blogged which caught my interest. We had a brief conversation about blogging at which point my mother decided it was the perfect moment to out me as a feminist.

I am not ashamed of being a feminist, I love being a feminist! My heart and soul are devoted to making the world a better place for women and children. I wouldn’t leave my baby every day if I didn’t deeply believe that I could fight a tiny bit of injustice to make women’s lives a little easier. I hold my feminism high.

But I have to say that I was taken aback by my outing. I don’t usually talk about my feminism or political beliefs with church members, I find it too painful. I have had so many hateful words thrown at me, questioning my intellect, reason and relationship with God. I have become wary of what I say and who I say it to.

Most the women were apathetic to the news that I was a feminist mostly because it’s fairly obvious, I never try to hide who I am. There were some comments that showed a misunderstanding of feminism and feminists but hopefully I can help to clear up some of the misperceptions that are out there. Some of the women even wanted my blog address. If you’re one of my book club sisters, welcome to my blog! Feel free to look around and please, ask me questions, I think we can have a good dialogue even if we don’t always agree.

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April 7, 2008

The Solemn Assembly and Gender Equality

There are a couple of things that I want to discuss in the near future but before I get to those things I want to share my reaction to General Conference. Overall I thought it was fairly innocuous, not much to get excited or worked up over. The thing that stood out the most for me was the Solemn Assembly.

The last time there was a Solemn Assembly, I was eleven almost twelve years old. I remember feeling a little bitter that I only got to stand up with the general membership when I was so close to being a Young Woman (my birthday is toward the end of April). Even then, I felt there was something unfair about the hierarchy that the Solemn Assembly promoted.

I felt a little silly this time around because we were just in our living room; if my parents hadn’t been there, I probably would have remained seated and raised my hand to the square. Nevertheless, we all participated in the ceremony. My father and husband stood with the High Priests and Elders Quorum. My mother and I stood with the Relief Society, then all of us joined with the general membership of the church to sustain President Thomas S. Monson. And once again I felt bitter.

I felt bitter because my vote mattered less than a twelve year old boy’s. My family tried to assure me that this was not true, that each vote was equal. Trust me, I know that is how I’m supposed to feel. I’ve heard it before…preside doesn’t really mean preside, it means benevolent servant leader. But it doesn’t work! Preside will always mean preside and hierarchy is never conducive to equality.

We talk in this church how women and men are equal in the sight of God, that motherhood is the equivalent to priesthood. If that is really true, then we need to start backing our words up with action. Why can’t the Relief Society stand after the Melchizedek Priesthood if they are truly equal? Is the order of the Solemn Assembly based in scripture or is it just tradition? I would argue that if the standing order of the Solemn Assembly is only tradition, this is one small area that could be changed so we could prove our commitment to gender equality.

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April 3, 2008

The Paradox of Motherhood

*This is cross-posted over at Feminist Mormon Housewives

There have been several posts recently that have discussed how difficult it is to be a mother. There is no question that motherhood is complex, the monotony and self-sacrifice can be overwhelming. By the amount of comments and the solidarity expressed in these posts, it is evident that conversations like these are valid and needed, if only for the sanity of those participating in them. It is also clear that these women love their children fiercely. I would like to take the conversation in this direction. I feel that we should provide a place for women who feel the joy of motherhood as profoundly as they feel their feminism.

Motherhood is a sensitive subject and so I tread lightly in approaching this topic though I fear that I may be seen by some as deluded. In an effort to curtail this, I offer some basic information about me that might be helpful in putting my experience in perspective. I have only been a mother for fourteen months. My son, who we affectionately call “Baby Monster,” was an easy infant and has turned into a delightful toddler (despite the daily tantrums). I am pregnant again with a second child due in September. I may possibly be crazy, not only for having babies 20 months apart but not thinking it through well enough and being 9 months pregnant during August in Arizona. I am not a stay-at-home mother; I counsel victims of domestic violence and occasionally I lobby the Arizona legislature for better rights for DV victims. I am sure that one day I will stay at home but now is not the right time. Lastly, I have the most wonderful, feminist-minded husband who splits his time between doctoral candidate and stay-at-home daddy. I know my situation is unique and I am very blessed but I don’t feel that this disqualifies me from speaking on motherhood or maternal desire.

I don’t believe I am alone in the pleasure I feel from motherhood. Indeed, psychologist Daphne de Marneffe recently published a book entitled Maternal Desire that explores from a feminist point of view the ability of motherhood to allow us to integrate various levels of our humanity—emotional, intellectual, intuitive, physical—in a way that is truly gratifying and self-actualizing.

Women are constantly told how they should or shouldn’t mother…how they should and shouldn’t feel about mothering. The truth is, the maternal experience imbibes so many complex, and often conflicting emotions that it bears very little resemblance to the idealization we Mormons place upon motherhood. It is also unfair of some liberal feminists to denigrate the caring of children as demeaning and oppressive. Both representations are caricatures of motherhood and it is demeaning to women to believe that they would buy into either idea.

My love and affinity for being a mother took me by surprise. I expected to resent being a mother because the choice did not come without sacrifice. I gave up graduate school to become a mother. I wrote in my journal at the discovery of my pregnancy,

How have I come to this point? I am a FEMINIST! A year ago I was
unmarried, going to graduate school and moving forward. Now I am having a
baby instead of doing the things I wanted…will I even recognize the self that I
create. Maybe I will find a new self in the baby but what happens to the
self I like now?

I placed my identity on the altar of motherhood, not knowing if I would lose myself in the sacrifice. I cannot say that this was a faith-filled offering, but rather a sacrifice made out of expedience. My reward for this faithless surrender of self is best described by Reverend Canon Susan Harris in her Mother’s Day sermon. (I shamelessly stole this from Kristine’s post over at BCC. There is much more to this beautiful quote and the post is one of my favorites.)

Because He first loved us. Because Christ has risen…because while we lost
ourselves not just in sin but in duty, not just in forgetfulness but in
earnestness, in our sincere desire to do what was right for our children,
because although we lost ourselves in our mothering, God remembered us, and
brought us forward, and made us new.

I was made new by motherhood, an occurrence that I couldn’t reconcile with my feminist understanding. I have been guilty of thinking that caring for children is a trap; a throwback to 1950’s neo-Victorianism and the self-curtailment of intellect and talent. On the other hand, I absolutely reject the way we talk about motherhood in Mormonism which has become so mired in clichés about women’s nature that it is often used to guilt women into becoming the angel of the house; “enjoying” subsidized housekeeping, forsaking equality and living only for others. And yet…

And yet I crave motherhood. I delight in motherhood. My son is extraordinarily beautiful with huge blue eyes and the biggest grin you will ever see. I relish every feature, every body part. Baby Monster is independent, opinionated and passionate; a mirror of my own qualities but without the ugliness of fear and self-doubt. Of course, Monster’s independent spirit drives him to cross milestones long before I’m ready. Each one is a dagger in my mother heart, knowing that he will not and can not be my baby forever. The Baby Monster recently weaned himself, cutting off forever that warm passing of love and energy between us. I wept when I realized that my body and mother’s milk were no longer necessary for his comfort and survival. As if the embryonic cells he left behind in my body spoke to him, Monster was innately aware that his mother was grieving their separation. My son has started giving me deep hugs, then pulling my face to his, and giving me the sweetest baby mouth kisses. They fill my body and soul with the warmth and energy that used to be ours but now, are only passing. I spend my days longing for those brief moments of connection between us.

I feel the complexity of motherhood everyday, longing to be with the Baby Monster but feeling driven to my career. It is a tension that I, and all mothers have to face. There will always be tension in motherhood. In that tension there is ambivalence; there is no way to ever make the perfect choice, there are always trade offs. If mothers choose to work, there will be an indescribable ache to be the one to care and nurture their children, to feel that fusion that sustained intimacy can bring. Conversely, mothers who choose to remain in the home often long for separateness, the time to put together two rational thoughts and the satisfaction of reaching their fullest potential.

Our ability to find joy in mothering depends on our ability to meet and be sensitive to the inherent tension of motherhood. Allowing for this tension can assist in the discovery of who we really are and lead to the inhabitation of our authentic self. Motherhood is an unparalleled opportunity to experience the abounding joy of connectedness to those whom we love and sacrifice for. In the paradox of mothering, lies the truth of motherhood, that we each must be sensitive enough not only to know how best to mother our children, but also how best to mother ourselves.

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November 2, 2007

How I became a feminist

I have been feeling nostalgic since Halloween. When I was little, my mother used to dress me up as important women from history; one year I was Helen of Troy and the next I was Emmeline Pankhurst (I know there’s a big difference). This year I felt like being ironic, so I showed up at the ward’s trunk or treat as a Stepford Wife. I had a pink, floral, 50’s style dress on with a cardigan, apron and pearls. My name tag read “Mrs. Brandon S. Matthews…Stepford Wife” (this allowed my husband to go as himself). Honestly, I don’t think a lot of people got it, perhaps it would have been different if they had known that I have only partially taken my husband’s name and I am the breadwinner in the family. And of course, people now associate Stepford Wives with a horrible Nicole Kidman movie.

So you’re thinking, Okay…this walk down Halloween lane has been fascinating, but what does it have to do with how you became a feminist? I’m glad you asked. So there I was, walking around looking like Stepford Wife, holding my squirming baby dressed in a red M&M costume that I had stayed up till 4 a.m. hand sewing (I know, the ironies never end) and I ran smack dab into the man that made me into a feminist! Awkward! The last time I saw him, I was nineteen and telling him that it was ok that he hadn’t called me for four months and had broken my heart.

Immediately old memories started popping up, like the time he told me that “a college degree was only a piece of paper for a girl” or that “women have no history outside of their husband and children”. But my favorite was when he said that families with too many girls in them were “weak”, knowing I came from a family of all girls. Oh how I wanted to use my hard won assertiveness to fill this man with shame, but all I could do was stand there. He, on the other hand, quickly maneuvered a little pirate and his wife dressed as Miss America (I kid you not!) as the little boy asked, “Daddy, why aren’t we stopping at that one?” I heard him reply as he walked past me, “Because there is nothing there.”

The anger hit me in one huge wave and I wanted to scream at him, “Do you know what you’ve done to me!” But the nicety that has been socialized into me as a Mormon woman, the same nicety that allowed me to absolve him of his jack-assery towards me at nineteen, took over and I walked on to the next car. But not without reflecting on the road that this man inadvertently put me on.

I grew up in a pro-feminist home; I mean, my mother dressed me as Emmeline Pankhurst for goodness sake and my father is the kindest, most Christ-like man on the planet. I grew up reading Little Women and Anne of Green Gables, I identified with the strong female characters that I read about. I remember telling a little boy in 4th grade that I was a feminist (all I got was a puzzled look, how many 4th graders know what a feminist is?). When we got those ridiculous lessons in Young Women’s about homemaking and husband-keeping, I laughed at them and thought they were completely irrelevant to women of the 21st century. It honestly never occurred to me that some people still viewed women as less important than men. So I was completely unprepared for my first serious relationship with a man who happened to be a sexist.

A year at a church school had completely indoctrinated in me the importance of getting married and fulfilling my role as a woman as quickly as possible. When I went home for the summer to a new state and met that handsome and confident newly returned missionary, I was a prime target to be easily manipulated. I changed myself to fit what this man wanted; I pointedly ignored all the wonderful things I had been taught by my parents.

But nobody can change who they are completely and when we got back to school and I started taking a Women’s History class, the core of who I am started stirring once again. I remember talking to him about how women had been oppressed throughout history and he told me that I didn’t know what I was talking about and that I should keep my opinions to myself. Those words hurt me deeply but I didn’t say anything because I thought I was in love with this man and I wanted to keep him happy. After that, he never called me again. I think that he probably realized he was loosing control over me and so he cut his losses and moved onto a more malleable girl.

After the initial grief at the loss of my first love, the anger came. Anger at myself for changing who I was. Anger at men for being such jerks. Anger at the church for giving men the privilege of being jerks. Anger at God for allowing women to be oppressed by His sanctioned doctrines. I had a crisis of faith. It doesn’t matter right now how I got through that, I’m sure that I will talk about that at some later point, but a series of tender mercies were given to me and I am mostly at peace.

Like I said, I am mostly at peace and have a wonderful, happy life but I am not unscathed from my journey through feminism. Being a Mormon feminist is often a painful, lonely lot. I am much more cynical than I was at nineteen and I tend to see the worst in people, especially men. I won’t lie, there are days when I want to scream at that man, “Look at what you’ve done to me” because the journey is so hard. I know that I will spend the rest of my days fighting men like him and keeping my daughters safe from their sons. I will never fully forgive him because I will never fully be at peace, that is the lot of a Mormon feminist. But most days I am grateful for the road I am on and the awareness and complexity in my life.

2 Comments

November 17, 2006

Sacrament Talk

This was a sacrament talk that I just gave in our new ward. I am sorry about the run on sentences and bad grammer, I wrote the talk out as I would say it. I relied heavily upon an article by Carol Cornwall Madsen, entitled “Mormon Women and the Temple.” As this was a talk in Sacrament Meeting, I shied away from the more controversial topics. There is alot I could say about women and the priesthood, especially as it relates to the temple but I did not feel like it was an appropriate place to do so. I have come to a peaceful understanding of the temple, but there are still issues that bother me.

The genesis of my topic is a talk by Sister Elaine S. Dalton, entitled “We Did This For You.” This is a very nice talk about the sacrifices our pioneer forefathers and foremothers made in order for us to have temples. As I was reading the talk and pondering on what I should talk about, I felt my thoughts directed to Mormon Women’s relationship with the temple. My thoughts are often drawn towards the situation of women in our world. I received a degree in history with an emphasis in women’s history and women’s studies. As I mentioned before, I work on behalf of women, and the post-baccalaureate degrees I will be pursuing deal primarily with women’s issues. I have felt a great deal of inspiration over the past few days from the Lord and I pray that I can convey what the Lord desires. Though I am talking about women, given from a woman’s perspective, the things that I will be sharing are equally applicable to men. I hope that the history, quotes and thoughts I share with you will help those of you who are preparing to go to the temple and give deeper meaning to those of us who are preparing to return to the temple.

History:

We have all heard the faith-promoting story of early Mormon sisters crushing their precious china to put on the outer walls of the Kirtland Temple so that the temple would gleam from a distance. LDS women’s history with the temple, however, is much more complex and fascinating. When Joseph Smith organized the Relief Society in 1842, he promised them that he would give them, as well as the elders and the church, the keys of the kingdom “that they would be able to detect every thing false.” He then turned the key over to them in the name of God and declared that “this society shall rejoice and knowledge and intelligence shall flow down from this time.” Reynolds Cahoon later confirmed Joseph’s intent to the Relief Society, saying “You knew no doubt [that] this society is raised by the Lord to prepare us for the great blessings which are for us in the House of the Lord in the Temple.”

When the Lord called on the saints to build the Nauvoo temple, women were instrumental in its completion. Mercy Fielding Thompson received inspiration to have the sisters subscribe one cent per week for the purpose of buying glass and nails for the temple. She was able to collect nearly $1000 from the sisters in Illinois and England. Another interesting contribution from Sarah Kimball provides a great example of the ingenuity of women.

Three days after the birth of her son, Sarah Kimball asked her well-to-do, non-Mormon husband what he thought the son was worth. Her husband had a difficult time assigning a price tag to their new son, so Sarah suggested $1000. Hiram Kimball agreed to the sum. Then Sarah asked “And half of him is mine”. He agreed again. Sarah then said, “Then I have something to help on the Temple…and I think of turning my share right in as tithing.” Some days later, Hiram related the conversation to Joseph Smith. “I accept all such donations,” Joseph promptly answered, “and from this day the boy shall stand recorded, Church property.” Then he added, “You now have the privilege of paying $500 and retaining possession, or receiving $500 and giving possession.” Hiram Kimball readily deeded to Joseph a piece of property well worth the $500, thereby gaining title to his child and closing the transaction. So sisters, here is a new way of getting money from your husbands. Some of you could be doing very well for yourself.

It is easy to see that the temple meant a lot to these early sisters, but why? The temple ordinances are applicable to both men and women and promise the same level of exaltation, this was incredibly significant to women of the time. The Victorian Era, in which time the church was formed, was particularly oppressive to women; they could not vote, own property, speak in public forums.

The temple opened up a new concept of spiritual participation relating to the “privileges, blessings and gifts of the priesthood” which not only enhanced their position in the church but also offered limitless potential in the hereafter. The introduction of temple ordinances in Nauvoo opened to all worthy Mormon women a new understanding of their place in the plan of salvation and in the church. They joyously received temple ordinances for the new dimension of spiritual life and hope they offered. They accepted the opportunity to participate in temple work as an honor and cherished the sacredness of their temple experiences. Eliza R. Snow recognized that Mormon women were on the forefront of a new dispensation for women and declared, “We are at the head of all the women of the world.” And she was absolutely correct. The gospel was, and is, the most progressive and revolutionary of all religions and teachings on this earth. The temple plays a key role in giving us this revolutionary knowledge.

Preparation:

When Joseph Smith met with the Relief Society in 1842 and spoke of giving them the keys of the kingdom, it was clear that he was exhorting them to put their lives in order to receive the “knowledge and intelligence” that he would soon reveal to them. Joseph Smith told Mercy Fielding Thompson at the time of her endowment that “this will bring you out of darkness into marvelous light.” The temple can provide the miracle of knowledge and intelligence for us as well, but how do we prepare ourselves for the marvelous light that can be ours.

There are, of course, the fundamental principles that we must live in order to get into the temple. These principles are asked about in our temple recommend interview. We need to keep the commandments, including keeping ourselves morally clean. There are temple preparation classes that provide a good, basic understanding of what we learn in the temple. True scripture study and prayer are an invaluable tool for helping us gain understanding into what the temple is trying to teach us.

Though the principles I mentioned above are important and helpful, we may need more help in order to understand the knowledge and intelligence that Joseph Smith promised was in the temple ceremony. Might I suggest several things that were invaluable to me as I prepared and learned about the temple? These measures are helpful to all preparing to go to, or return to the temple.

The first is education, both spiritual and secular. Training one’s mind to understand the complexities of our world allows us to see and understand the complexities of the temple ceremony. The temple ceremony is veiled in symbolism; it is our job to decipher those symbols and use the knowledge we have gained in order to get back to our Heavenly Father’s presence.

The second is an understanding and belief in the goodness of the Plan of Salvation. Of all the doctrine in our gospel, the Plan of Salvation is perhaps the most simple and beautiful, and yet the most misunderstood. We cannot break through the symbolism of the temple unless we fully understand our roles as sons and daughters of God within His glorious plan.

The third tool that was useful to me was a process that Abraham Maslow called Self-Actualization. Inherent in the nature of women and men is a desire to become the best person they can. To press towards “unity of personality, toward spontaneous expressiveness, toward full individuality and identity, toward seeing the truth rather than being blind, toward being creative, toward being good…That is, the human being is so constructed that he presses toward what most people would call good values, toward serenity, kindness, courage, honesty, love, unselfishness, and goodness.” The steps to self-actualization are the same ones we should be taking in order to get back to the Kingdom of Heaven:

Experience things fully, vividly, selflessly.
Shut out the distractions of the world. Let your true self emerge and then let your experience enable you to say what you truly feel.
Be honest with yourself. Taking responsibility is self-actualizing
Listen to your own tastes. Know your moral being. Be prepared to be unpopular.
Use your intelligence. The glory of God is Intelligence.
Make spiritual experiences more likely by getting rid of illusions and false notions.
Find out who you are, what you are, what you like and don’t like, what is good and what is bad for you, where you are going, what your mission is.
The gospel challenges us to become better people, to become self-actualized.

We do not have to be our very best when we enter the temple, but we should have the desire to become our best through what the temple teaches us. The sincere desire to receive light and knowledge is often enough for the Lord to bless us with it.

I now would like to share with you my first experience with the temple. I do so with some trepidation because it is very personal. I ask for your compassion and understanding. I do not offer myself up as an example of faithlessness. Rather I am sharing with you one woman’s relationship with the temple and how a loving Father in Heaven has blessed her because of that experience.

I did not go on a mission, so a month before Brandon and I were to be married we met my parents and Brandon’s parents at the Winter Quarter’s Temple in Omaha, Nebraska (which was the closest temple to where my parents were living at the time). I had gone to temple preparation classes, studied my scriptures and prayed, discussed with Brandon a little bit of the temple ceremony.

I was not prepared, however, for the actual ceremony and I quickly became overwhelmed by the symbolism and language of the endowment. I was also unprepared for what I saw as the hierarchy of men over women put in place by Eve’s choice to partake of the fruit. This simply did not, and does not, fit with my understanding of the gospel and Plan of Salvation. Towards the end of my endowment, I broke down and sobbed. I sobbed through out the remainder of the ceremony and into the Celestial Room. I could not contain myself. I was embarrassed; I felt I had let down my future husband and my parents. And yet my sense of duty to those I loved could not overcome the feelings of hopelessness that were rushing at me. Brandon and I spent an awkward evening with our parents and then went back to BYU.

I pause here to remind you of something I said earlier. If we have a sincere desire to receive truth and light, the Lord, in his infinite mercy, will grant it to us. In my case, the Lord had already given me a tender mercy in the form of a beloved professor and mentor. This woman had helped me with understanding my purpose as a woman in this life and the next.
Monday afternoon I went to her once again, sobbing, begging her to give me peace. And she was able to. What I learned in her office is too sacred to share, but it stands as a testament that our Heavenly Father desires to bless his children with marvelous light.

Brandon and I visited the temple frequently before our wedding. A week before we were to be married we went to the temple to do a sealing session. The officiator was the old temple president of the Provo Temple. Half way through the session, the man stopped and said that he had a prompting and that he needed to share important truths with us. The temple president then proceeded to reiterate almost word for word what my teacher had shared with me in her office. It was so important to the Lord that I receive the light and knowledge that I so desperately needed that he provided two separate ways to bless me.

My experience at the temple, while not perfect, has been one of the biggest blessings in my life, the relationship with my husband, and it has continued to bless the lives of our families.

Conclusion:

I said before that the restored gospel is the most revolutionary for women of all those taught on this earth. This is not to say that there are not problems, the church is an imperfect earthly institution populated by imperfect people. But the gospel is perfect, and in it there is full equality between woman and man. The gospel, which is the only concern of the Church, was devised by the Lord for men and women alike. Indeed, our prophet recently said, “Now, my dear sisters…I remind you that you are not second-class citizens in the kingdom of God. You are His divine creation…Without you, our Father’s plan of happiness would be frustrated and have no real meaning.”

The temple ceremony provides the proof of women’s equality. Both men and women officiate in the temple ceremony. Eliza R. Snow recognized the unique blessing it is to be a Mormon woman. “They [Mormon Women] occupy a more important position than is occupied by any other women on the earth…sharing in the gifts and powers of the holy Priesthood…participating in those sacred ordinances, without which, we could never be prepared to dwell in the presence of the Holy Ones.” Women are just as much saviors upon Mount Zion as men are.

D&C 132:20 promises married couples that they “shall inherit thrones, kingdoms, principalities, and powers, dominions, all heights and depths…and they shall pass by the angels, and the gods, which are set there, to their exaltation and glory in all things.” The truths taught in the temple give us a glimpse into eternity and the blessings that are ours as women. If modern scripture is correct, a woman’s godhood, which, like a man’s, is “above all” and encompasses “all power,” is neither limited nor subservient. No distinctions are made as to the dimensions of male and female godhood. Elder James E. Talmage taught that “woman [shall] be recompensed in rich measure for all the injustice that womanhood has endured in mortality. Then shall woman reign by Divine right, a queen in the resplendent realm of her glorified state.”

It is our duty to prepare ourselves for the glorious knowledge and intelligence that can be ours through temple attendance. Once we have prepared and received truths, it is then our calling to be instrumental in restoring the equality which existed when the world was created. We are literally endowed with power from on high when we go to the temple. This gives us a sense of divine grace and approbation that sets us apart from the rest of the world. We have the assurance that we can become like Christ.

Whatever indignity is forced upon women in this world; the meaning of the temple is clear. Its power, its purpose, and its promises for women are eternal. I pray that all of us, women and men, will prepare themselves to receive the marvelous light that the temple can bring.

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November 12, 2006

Waiting to be Healed

I am waiting to be healed, I am waiting for the Balm of Gilead promised to those who sorrow. My sorrow is that of all the disenfranchised women in the world and eternities. I have pushed the fears of eternal inequality to the back of my mind. My longing for a relationship with a more present Mother in Heaven is reserved for when we sing ‘O My Father’ in church. The absence of female role models in the scriptures elicits only a brief murmuring from me. It isn’t that I have stopped pondering these issues, on the contrary, they are ever present in my mind. I am just waiting for the intangible resolution.

I work for a woman’s non-profit domestic violence program where the injustice of our legal system and society is painfully evident. Going to church reinforces my fear of injustice and inequality in the eternities. I constantly wonder if my feelings are valid; it depresses me that a majority of women see nothing wrong, they feel no pain at the situation forced upon them by nature’s chance. My husband often jokes that I can’t be happy with my own blessed situation, that my very being requires me to feel the pain of women whether they need or want me to. His joking insight is true, I have chosen to feel pain for those who can’t or don’t need to feel it for themselves. I have chosen to feel that pain and then use my own opportunities to speak out against it.

Sorrow is an instructive tool meant for brief times in our lives, brief because it can so easily turn into despair and bitterness. This is the point where I find myself, on the fence between instruction and the destruction of my faith. The God I know, the one that must exist, weeps when his daughters are abused by a fallen patriarchal system. My God loves me for all my femaleness; He does not see me as cursed, less than or unimportant in mortality or eternity.

The peace and understanding I have received are the result of my times of sorrow. The redemption that followed came in the form of tender mercies from a loving Father and Mother. My first foray into the sorrow of women introduced me to a wonderful woman and professor who healed my heart with an idyllic understanding of the eternities and Plan of Salvation. It is an understanding that I cling to in my darkest hours. Later, when my frustration at the male sex and patriarchy threatened to overwhelm me, my now husband soothed the anger by proving my idealism could be a reality with him.

The sorrow of women has returned to me once more. As I sat in church this past week allowing myself to feel sad, the Lord spoke to me. “The child will heal you.” I felt the wriggle in my womb as if the baby I am carrying was trying to assure me of this truth. My first child, a son, will be born in February. Something other than myself knows that being this child’s mother will provide the balm to my weary and wounded soul. I have postponed the ultimate battle between my faith’s sorrowful instruction and the destruction of what I want so desperately to believe. So I must wait.

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Category: feminism