My family and I were able to attend Community of Christ's World Conference last week. I had been anticipating the event for over a year, but I wasn't sure what to expect. General Conference in the LDS church is a two day event that consists of talks or sermons prepared by area leaders and world leadership of the church. There is singing, praying and males and females also have separate meetings. Priesthood for the men, General Women's meeting for the women. There is a small business portion on Saturday, but it only lasts a few minutes and there isn't any discussion. Any new leadership is ordained in private before conference and any recognition of them is more of an FYI. It works for the structure of the church, but it's certainly different from how Community of Christ does things and while I knew that, it was different to experience that.
I wrote a Facebook status early one morning after we had only been in Missouri a few days. I didn't realize how many people would see it or be touched by it, but all week I had people coming up to me and thinking me for my quickly jotted down thoughts. It wasn't much and frankly could have been better, so I thought I would take note of more observations during the week and bring them to my blog. Once again, I'm sure this post could be more thorough and thought out, but here are more of my reflections on conference.
~We started off the week interviewing significant figures in the life of the church. I'm still having a hard time figuring out how exactly we go so lucky to sit down with who we did, but I think it highlights something very important in the church's culture. Meeting people on a very human level is woven into the DNA of Community of Christ. Some will say it has to do with the small size, or maybe even that it's a sign of missing "truth", but I'm not convinced of either. Being a community means being in relationship and everything we do in grounded in those relationships. That's what makes it possible for me to walk down the halls of the temple with a former president of the church. That's what made ordaining women possible and what made it possible for us to talk to one of the leading women who helped moved that along. The people in the church are and always will be more important that religious dogma. So, when it came time to schedule interviews for our little podcast, it was no surprise when Wallace B Smith called me on my cell phone one Tuesday morning to set up a time.
~ We are a church that believes in continuing revelation. We actively and intentionally add to our scriptures and since we view scripture as human response to our interactions and relationships with God, WE are part of that process. Using scripture responsibly has allowed us to open our hearts and minds to discovering together what we should weave into our identity. Steve Veazey left the room as we discerned. We had moments of prayer, reflection and singing as we came together as a prophetic people in a historic moment. We voted by raising our hands and it was an amazing experience to officially welcome these words, words that we had walked with for years, into our book of scripture.
~ During the week, we gathered in various caucus meetings. Josh and I attended the mass meeting for the aaronic priesthood and we were able to listen to deacons, teachers, and priests from all over the world discuss the various issues that were being presented at conference. Together, we went over the Words of Counsel from Steve Veazey, the new world leadership calls, the resolutions different mission centers were bringing before the conference, and we had a discussion of the definition of tithing. It was fascinating and I didn't think I would get involved in the dialogue, but then I did. I was amazed that we could speak for or against *anything* we were talking about, including individual people. Scary, right? When the opportunity to speak to Robin Linkhart's call to apostle came up, I couldn't keep quiet. I wasn't the only one who spoke in favor of her and it was incredibly meaningful for me to get up, as a priest who's call was initiated by her, and speak in favor and in testimony of the work she's doing. Being given the opportunity to voice your opinion, whether good or bad, became real for me in that moment. It was a very meaningful way to claim and grow my voice.
And there were some moments where the conversations got intense. People were respectful, but also not shy about their reservations over the wording or implications of various things. People were heard and continually loved into community even when they were admitting things that the majority might not have agreed with. Faithful disagreement happened before our eyes and we walked with that the entire week.
~I didn't realize how meaningful seeing the ordinations would be. Community of Christ truly is a community and the leadership are among the least of us. After we had opportunity to voice our thoughts and vote in our caucuses, we came together as a larger body and did the same thing. The calls were supported with an overwhelming majority (although there were some who opposed, but again, there were no repercussions) and the ordinations followed on various nights. I love that the sacraments are communal, public and a joyous celebration. There was clapping, singing, hugging and fellowshipping at all of them. The sense of community was strong and I can't help but think about what would have been missed had these moments happened in private. Being part of the process and affirming who God was calling to help guide the church was incredible and something I'll never be able to fully describe. I wish every religious person could have that chance to support their leaders in that way.
~The business meetings were fascinating. There are channels provided to bring up issues in front of the entire church. Things from priesthood living together before marriage to pay day loans have been talked about for months and months and we made decisions, to one degree or another, on all of the resolutions. People were able to present their statements in front of everyone and then we discussed the various sides. Together, we became a prophetic people and figured out our next steps. They may not have seemed like big deals, but these resolutions were thoughtful and could have life changing implications. We weren't waiting for our leaders to tell us how to act, we figured it out together in community.
~ We discussed the budget openly and fully. A comprehensive view of money coming in and money going out was given. Community of Christ has experienced some significant financial set backs and those were honestly addressed. Apologies were made, lessons were discussed and the path forward is being taken with intentionality. I don't claim to have any real words to say in response to this and I don't feel like it's my place to pretend I do, but it's been an interesting time to come into the church. I've seen both despair and hope and I know some feared there would be great levels of awkwardness and pain at conference. Those moments were certainly there and dear new friends of mine have lost their ability to devote themselves full time to the church, but I do have hope. I've seen grace and was so touched by the volunteers who continued to devote their time to making conference run smoothly and who extended grace to all.
~ We discussed the definition of tithing. Coming from the background I do, that was new. It wasn't so much a drastic change in what was expected, but instead trying to figure out the best wording in order to get everyone on the same page and to figure out how we can better teach it. The Presiding Bishopric was given ample feedback from the people. Surveys were taken to gauge the level of support for the document being discussed and after several revisions, we came to an overwhelming status of common consent. Once again, community and consent in action.
~ Another point of business that was particularly meaningful was in the discussion of providing closed captioning for church produced materials. It was initially voted as the least important priority to get to, but I hoped that meant everyone knew it was a no brainer and that it would spark no debate and pass without question. Our delegation had been sitting next to the deaf community who was present at conference and so all week they were on my mind as I was literally face to face with a population that is too often forgotten about and marginalized. When the resolution was brought to the floor, multiple people were in line to speak in favor of it. There were also several "close the debate" requests and so after just two people speaking in favor, the body decided to close the debate and proceed to the vote. Except...Before anyone spoke, three of the people involved with interpreting and/or who were deaf themselves immediately stood up in hopes to give their view. None of them were able to speak before the debate was closed. One woman tearfully shared that she had an amendment, one little adjustment to the resolution, that needed to be added in. Since the body had already voted to close the debate, that was regretfully denied. A saddened sigh went across the chamber and people immediately rushed to comfort the woman. Suddenly, there was an appeal and the body was able to hear the amendment. She was asking that in addition to closed captioning, if the church could consider a little box with an ASL interpreter. The body was able to vote again to include the amendment and the resolution passed with flying colors. People clapped. I clapped and cried. Yes, these things should have been considered long ago, but to see the process happen and to see a member of the first presidency apologize for needing to follow procedure, but to then see humanity take over and inclusion happen was amazing. I wasn't the only one who cried and although I hear these things are commonly done in the church, experiencing it on such an emotional level with a small group of people that I had been watching all week was a top, top highlight of the trip.
~ We had two seeker gatherings and we were able to meet and talk with people who were particularly interested in the movement from the LDS church to Community of Christ. It was electrifying to be part of and to hear people talk about what's happening in their congregations and areas. Many people who haven't "seen" what's happening were able to meet several of us who have come out of the LDS branch of our common story and I think hearts were healed all around. They were beautiful moments of old and new and a renewed vision of hope for the future. I don't know if I can describe it beyond that. It was glorious and after so long of feeling stuck, I finally feel like I found my groove and my element. At those gatherings, I felt at home.
~ The was an alarming level of egalitarianism. I'm not used to women addressing men as equals and men addressing them back in the same way. I'm not used to not having an unspoken tension and power play at the hidden heart of interactions between men and women. Men wanted to listen to ME and hear my story and opinions. There were no ulterior motives, no mansplaining, no clouds of authority or patriarchy. It didn't matter the age or their position in the church. I talked to men who weren't ordained and I talked to apostles and a member of the first presidency. The respect and level of equality was the same. It absolutely boggled my mind.
~The focus on peace was the undercurrent of everything. Multiple prayers for peace each day, meetings in the temple that is dedicated to the pursuit of peace, we played in the Peace Pavilion, we celebrated peace and gave an international peace award, we sang peace, we talked of peace, we caught a glimpse of what it would be to live in peace one with another in spite of our differences. This didn't mean erasing diversity, language, or opinions, this meant listening to each other with our whole hearts and discovering what we could learn from one another. Steve Veazey gave an amazing sermon during the closing worship that called for peace and for us to challenge systems that promote anything less. It sounds cliche, but I think we experienced Zion.
It was an amazing week. I know there are things I'm missing from this list and I'll be reflecting on that week until 2019 and beyond. The openness, transparency, connectedness, and love of this community is like nothing I've ever experienced. The church has walked quite a rocky path at times and it isn't smooth sailing right now, but we're figuring it out. We are a committed people and I believe what we're doing matters.
A revolution is happening in the restoration and it's been happening since 1860. Reclaiming, renaming and rediscovering. It's a revolution of peace, reconciliation and breaking down walls that used to divide us. I'm so excited to be part of it. I'm so excited to be here.
6.14.2016
1.04.2016
My Year To Be Brave
A year ago today, Josh and I joined Community of Christ. We did so very quietly, surrounded those who were truly happy for us. It's strange to think about because everyone always talks about how fast a year can fly by, but this past year really didn't move fast for me. I did a lot of growing and have pushed myself to limits I didn't know I had. I've found myself interviewing and sharing meals with numerous key leaders of the church. I have made dozens of friends from all over the place, and have said yes to things I never imagined I could say yes to. I've been able to ask question without having a predispositioned answer that I must cling to and I have finally come to a place of peace with my faith. It's been a good year and so, so, so much has happened.
When Josh and I joined, we were 100% confident in the decision. We started attending 6 months before and I knew early on that this is the church I wanted to raise my kids in. The actual event seemed a teeny bit rushed, however. It wasn't that I felt we should have 'investigated' more, but part of me regretted the immediate jump we made. I literally taught primary the last week I ever attended an LDS ward. The very next week we went to Community of Christ and never stopped. We dropped off the face of Mormonville and it was a bit traumatizing. I loved what we found and where we landed, but I did slightly mourn the loss of being with myself without the influence of religion. There were a lot of benefits of making the transition when I did and a few key relationships could be unfortunately different had I not gone when I did. For that I will be ever grateful.
Religion is a funny thing. Patriarchal religions are an even funnier thing. I don't want this post to dwell on too many negatives, but just know that I am still peeling back and discovering ways that being a feminist woman in a space where feminism is as evil as the other F-word has altered my perception of just about everything, mostly of myself. To be blunt, I wasn't taught by my church that my voice, talents or inspirations were equal to that of the men in my life. No matter how hard I tried to justify and make it work, I have never been the kind of woman the LDS church wants. When I realized that, I fell out of love super fast (especially since I had considered myself a non literal believer for quite some time) but I'm still recovering from that breakup of the worst kind. I felt like a complete throwaway and had to figure out how to pick up the pieces.
2015 was a year of discovering myself, but I did so very, very timidly. I got involved, but not too much. I thought, "Hey, I can do this." but not too loudly because in the back of my mind there were a million voices confirming what I had internalized for two decades. Just when I would think I had gotten over it, something would happen, a thought would enter, a comment would be said and I would revert right back to my old self doubting ways. I was afraid of failure, but also of turning down opportunities. It was a weird and stressful paradox to live in and in the thick of it, I wasn't always my best self. All the while, I read dozens of books about women who had been on similar journeys, many who had answered the call to ministry in one for or another. Their stories were empowering and fanned my flame ever so slightly.
All of these feelings were happening as I dove into our congregation. I got involved pretty immediately and I loved it. People there were just like me and nobody expected me to have the right answers, they were more concerned with me feeling safe enough to ask questions. Questions that challenged literalism, authority, inequality and how we could be a more radically loving people of peace. I watched in amazement as a dear friend questioned the President of our church in front of a live audience and challenged him over whether the church was doing enough to make women's ministry visible and I watched him apologize in response to her example and admit that we could all be doing better. I was also met with growing pains of figuring out where I thought I could be useful and the congregations actual needs. It's been an interesting balance and one I suspect many of us face at one point or another. All of this seemed to fuel both my confidence and self doubts and I continued to be aware of the scarlet letter I had placed on myself and my family.
The call to priesthood came in August. I wrote a post over at Ordain Women about my struggle to accept the call, but I did accept it and will be ordained in April, by Josh who will be ordained in February. You see, when I got down to the core of what I view the gospel to be, I actually realized I liked it a lot. I'm free to openly talk about how much of scripture is not historically accurate and share my thoughts on where I think Joseph Smith pulled a lot of his theological ideas from. I'm free to focus on what matters most--life right here, right now. The hungry people on the streets, women being told they don't matter as much as their husbands, people being spiritually crushed by arbitrary rules and irresponsible interpretations of scripture. I'm able to face all of this with a community that's figuring it out right along with me and it's been the most transforming thing I've ever witnessed. I've seen person after person after person be led into the waters of baptism to claim their spiritual journey again on their terms. And that has sparked something in me.
2016 is my year to be brave. Turns out, where my congregation needs me is in the pastorate, serving as a counselor and as a priest, ready to preach, preside and most importantly, walk with people in their trauma. I've already had someone approach me to baptize them once I'm ordained and I melted into a puddle of tears when she asked me. There are a few other things looming on the horizon that I'm nervous and even skeptical about, but I'm learning to stop listening to the social pressures around me and instead listen to God. The God who has been both my mother and my father from the start. The God who I know nothing concrete about and again am sometimes skeptical of, but the God I believe is there in one form or another. Equally important, I started listening to myself. None of this is something I wanted, but it's something that I personally feel sacredly compelled to do. You know when you're a kid in a Mormon fast and testimony meeting and your heart is racing because you know you should get up, but are too scared? It's like that. I don't want to regret being too scared to get out of the pews. So I'm showing up, one step at a time and it's electrifying.
I no longer worry about sacrificing who I am for other people's happiness or comfort. Would I like to have more tangible support from loved ones? Sure, but over the past year, I've learned that love truly does conquer all things and because of that, I've been less afraid to be who I am. As the words of my newly favorite (Christmas!) hymn says,
When the future looms before you, posing questions and demands,
and the bright plans you projected fade like footprints in the sand,
live the promise you are tasting, fan the flames of faith within.
In a stable wrapped in starlight you will find your way again.
So let's do this, 2016. Into that nautilus shell and back out again. Over and over again until the world is healed.
When Josh and I joined, we were 100% confident in the decision. We started attending 6 months before and I knew early on that this is the church I wanted to raise my kids in. The actual event seemed a teeny bit rushed, however. It wasn't that I felt we should have 'investigated' more, but part of me regretted the immediate jump we made. I literally taught primary the last week I ever attended an LDS ward. The very next week we went to Community of Christ and never stopped. We dropped off the face of Mormonville and it was a bit traumatizing. I loved what we found and where we landed, but I did slightly mourn the loss of being with myself without the influence of religion. There were a lot of benefits of making the transition when I did and a few key relationships could be unfortunately different had I not gone when I did. For that I will be ever grateful.
Religion is a funny thing. Patriarchal religions are an even funnier thing. I don't want this post to dwell on too many negatives, but just know that I am still peeling back and discovering ways that being a feminist woman in a space where feminism is as evil as the other F-word has altered my perception of just about everything, mostly of myself. To be blunt, I wasn't taught by my church that my voice, talents or inspirations were equal to that of the men in my life. No matter how hard I tried to justify and make it work, I have never been the kind of woman the LDS church wants. When I realized that, I fell out of love super fast (especially since I had considered myself a non literal believer for quite some time) but I'm still recovering from that breakup of the worst kind. I felt like a complete throwaway and had to figure out how to pick up the pieces.
2015 was a year of discovering myself, but I did so very, very timidly. I got involved, but not too much. I thought, "Hey, I can do this." but not too loudly because in the back of my mind there were a million voices confirming what I had internalized for two decades. Just when I would think I had gotten over it, something would happen, a thought would enter, a comment would be said and I would revert right back to my old self doubting ways. I was afraid of failure, but also of turning down opportunities. It was a weird and stressful paradox to live in and in the thick of it, I wasn't always my best self. All the while, I read dozens of books about women who had been on similar journeys, many who had answered the call to ministry in one for or another. Their stories were empowering and fanned my flame ever so slightly.
All of these feelings were happening as I dove into our congregation. I got involved pretty immediately and I loved it. People there were just like me and nobody expected me to have the right answers, they were more concerned with me feeling safe enough to ask questions. Questions that challenged literalism, authority, inequality and how we could be a more radically loving people of peace. I watched in amazement as a dear friend questioned the President of our church in front of a live audience and challenged him over whether the church was doing enough to make women's ministry visible and I watched him apologize in response to her example and admit that we could all be doing better. I was also met with growing pains of figuring out where I thought I could be useful and the congregations actual needs. It's been an interesting balance and one I suspect many of us face at one point or another. All of this seemed to fuel both my confidence and self doubts and I continued to be aware of the scarlet letter I had placed on myself and my family.
The call to priesthood came in August. I wrote a post over at Ordain Women about my struggle to accept the call, but I did accept it and will be ordained in April, by Josh who will be ordained in February. You see, when I got down to the core of what I view the gospel to be, I actually realized I liked it a lot. I'm free to openly talk about how much of scripture is not historically accurate and share my thoughts on where I think Joseph Smith pulled a lot of his theological ideas from. I'm free to focus on what matters most--life right here, right now. The hungry people on the streets, women being told they don't matter as much as their husbands, people being spiritually crushed by arbitrary rules and irresponsible interpretations of scripture. I'm able to face all of this with a community that's figuring it out right along with me and it's been the most transforming thing I've ever witnessed. I've seen person after person after person be led into the waters of baptism to claim their spiritual journey again on their terms. And that has sparked something in me.
2016 is my year to be brave. Turns out, where my congregation needs me is in the pastorate, serving as a counselor and as a priest, ready to preach, preside and most importantly, walk with people in their trauma. I've already had someone approach me to baptize them once I'm ordained and I melted into a puddle of tears when she asked me. There are a few other things looming on the horizon that I'm nervous and even skeptical about, but I'm learning to stop listening to the social pressures around me and instead listen to God. The God who has been both my mother and my father from the start. The God who I know nothing concrete about and again am sometimes skeptical of, but the God I believe is there in one form or another. Equally important, I started listening to myself. None of this is something I wanted, but it's something that I personally feel sacredly compelled to do. You know when you're a kid in a Mormon fast and testimony meeting and your heart is racing because you know you should get up, but are too scared? It's like that. I don't want to regret being too scared to get out of the pews. So I'm showing up, one step at a time and it's electrifying.
I no longer worry about sacrificing who I am for other people's happiness or comfort. Would I like to have more tangible support from loved ones? Sure, but over the past year, I've learned that love truly does conquer all things and because of that, I've been less afraid to be who I am. As the words of my newly favorite (Christmas!) hymn says,
When the future looms before you, posing questions and demands,
and the bright plans you projected fade like footprints in the sand,
live the promise you are tasting, fan the flames of faith within.
In a stable wrapped in starlight you will find your way again.
So let's do this, 2016. Into that nautilus shell and back out again. Over and over again until the world is healed.
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