Book of Mormon musical

My friend posted this article on her facebook.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/on-faith/post/amos-and-andy-and-the-book-of-mormon/2011/06/15/AGRlHPWH_blog.html

There was some disagreement on her wall about what was said in the article. Here's what I responded.

I listened to the songs and wholeheartedly agree with the article and feel grateful that someone would say this. The play is funny and does have some commentary that we as mormons would do good to correct in ourselves. Overall however, there is no commentary in the play that makes you think or question. It only leaves you with the message of 'what fools.' There are themes and questions that people both in and outside of religion all face that this musical absolutely failed to address, rather it widened the gap and misunderstanding between the two groups.

In john lennon's Imagine, it asks us to imagine a world without religion, what a peaceful world it would be. I say this too completely misses the mark. It is not religion, but rather difference that causes conflict. And you try to take away differences within people, you lose everything that's beautiful about life. This is the same failure the BoM musical makes. Rather than address how we try to cope with the differences that are bound to cause conflict, it demonized, it simplified, it stereotyped, it hated.

I'm learning more and more that things are not so certain, that things are a lot more grey, and beautiful because of it. It is clear that both the conservative religious as well as the audience of this musical would rather things be only black and white. For there only to be right and wrong, unable to deal with ambiguity. To fit things into neat little boxes where you are either evil or a saint. I cannot support this.

Vulnerability

This video made me think a lot in terms of relationships and my spirituality.

She said that when we let ourselves be vulnerable, we can start feeling like we truly belong, and when we can start loving.

She mentioned in our attempt to feel invulnerable, we try to feel certain about things that weren't ever meant to be certain, like religion. I realize how true this is with me. I want to be certain about religion, about Mormonism, and about God because otherwise I leave myself so open to failure and hurt. I've wanted things to be certain. I wanted there to be a black and a white, a wrong and a right. And maybe there is some black and white, but less than I thought.

So is it alright to feel uncertain about religion? Maybe it is. We're taught a seeming contradiction, that we can find out the truth of things for ourselves. Yet we're told what the truth is, as if anything else we discover that contradicts that truth is wrong.

A friend argued with me on this point. He said rather than seeing it as a contradiction, he had to humble himself enough to realize that he couldn't understand everything and he was willing to trust that he would eventually understand. I really get that notion of not being so bigheaded to think that I can understand everything on my own. I get the idea of trusting a teacher because you know they will help you be a better person.

I guess I feel conflicted on two levels. One is that sometimes I'm afraid the God I trust does not necessarily only fit within the box we call Mormonism. Second, even if there is truth in something, does God want me to follow it if all I have learned so far is that that truth is wrong? Does God value my conscience?

I realize in this I can't be complacent. I have to actively learn and question. In a way I am picking and choosing what I believe, but not in a way where I'm choosing what's convenient to believe in. I'm choosing what I've actually learned about, what I actually believe, what I actually feel good about.

I'm willing to be wrong about this. But right now it doesn't feel wrong. I value the faith it takes to believe in something you don't completely understand, and I still feel like there is an extent to which that is necessary. But when you trust and trust without ever feeling right about it, when is it time to start going with your conscience? I heard a BYU professor say something to the effect that we expect people outside of the church to be willing to ask themselves what is truth? Be willing to drop their own beliefs if they found a greater truth. Do we believe the same is necessary for ourselves?

I guess on the other side of this same topic is this story.

I've been addressing this topic of faith and uncertainty over and over, and it's because I've had these seemingly contradictory experiences. Real spiritual moments where God comforted me and I was sure that I wasn't alone. Then these other moments where things just don't feel right, and it hurts trying to pretend that it does.

To be clear I dont see religion as just a placebo. I do think there's truth, something in me feels so right about God existing. But again I don't think things fit into neat little boxes, things are grey, and it's beautiful that way. For a while I couldn't cope with this contradiction. I couldn't see the beauty in grey when it applied to God, it doesn't make sense. But I guess I'm ok with that right now, I don't have to be certain. I'm ok feeling vulnerable about my belief. I believe in God, even if things don't make sense.

Finding Wholeness

Here is a talk I gave for church once, with edits and additions. I was asked to pick a talk from General Conference, so I chose Kent F Richard's The Atonement Covers All Pain

Elder Orson F. Whitney wrote, “No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude, and humility. … It is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire.”

Much of the pain we go through doesn't make sense.

Failing a test we thought we studied for, feeling alone or misunderstood for months or years, doing something for our faith that we thought was right but can find no solace in.

These times where we can not find the sense that seems to be promised to us.

There are a lot of incongruities, and it's often easy to think of life in terms of an equation. If you do this plus this, then this scenario is what should result. If I serve a mission, I will be blessed. If I pay my tithing, I will be blessed. If I join the church, I should be blessed. And certainly blessings do come from following the commandments, but often not in the ways we think which leaves us digging for some answer as to why things are.

I don't know about you, but as much as I've tried, my life will not fit into a box. It's so tempting to try to mark who the good and the bad are, to mark myself as the Nephite and all that fight against me as the Lamanite. But the more I try to make others the Lamanites, I realize that I love them and there is no comfort in making loved ones enemies. And the more I discover who I am, the more I see the Lamanite in me.

We ask God why things aren't fair, because things really aren't. They're completely unfair. I was hurt more than I deserved to be, I sacrificed more than I can bare, I just need a break.

The truth is is that the beauty of things is that they aren't fair. There is such beauty in the utter paradox between justice and mercy. The one man who's justice it was to attain earned salvation, is the only resurrected being with marks still on his hands.

Disappointment comes from one of two things. In all my moving and doing and trying, I'm either always falling short of my expectations. Or no matter how much I try to maneuver or strategize or manipulate a situation, it just won't work out the way I hope. And it's from these two sometimes irreconcilable disappointments that I can find comfort that God is not always fair. Where he should exercise justice, he gives me mercy. and the one situation where true justice would've ended without punishment, led to a beautiful gift of something whole, something complete, that helps heal the disparities in my life.

Kent F Richards said, "Sometimes in the depth of pain, we are tempted to ask, “Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there?” 7 I testify the answer is yes, there is a physician. The Atonement of Jesus Christ covers all these conditions and purposes of mortality."

Bruce C Hafen gave a beautiful devotional in 1979 called Love is not blind. In it he talks about ambiguity in life and the trouble we have in making sense of it. Some look through the lens of sugar coated idealism, and others through tarnished and rusted pessimism. In it he challenges students to see with their hearts and eyes wide open. To see all the dirty details that life offers yet be able to hope and dream for something bigger than we are.

I saw this on Postsecret with an email response below it.

-----Email Message-----

Many years ago, an older man that I trusted had inappropriate sexual contact with me. Twelve years of therapy and a suicide attempt later, and I still live with it every day.

A big part of me will forever be defined by the worst thing that ever happened to me.

----

Both situations seem irreconcilable. Both serious, tragic and bitter. I find solace that there can be reconciliation in these two opposing situations through the atonement. Christ's message of sacrifice and love as a means to heal, is one we can follow as well as be healed by.

There is very little wholeness between me and my family right now. As much as I've tried to forgive them and follow this gospel that I changed my life for, I still find myself harboring resentment and anger.

The forgiveness and love my family has showed me, however, often surprises me. They do so out of love, because I know they think joining the church was still wrong. I know they still feel bitter and disappointed in me.

I still have a lot of doing left in order to try to make things right with my family. I know it will take love and sacrifice, something that I'm trying to learn from Christ. There are also some things that I don't have control of, and I hope that I will be extended the mercy and love that the Atonement offers.

When I was confirmed in this church, my blessing said that my family will one day be whole again. Even when my faith in the church buckles, I still cling to that promise, hoping that through my own, some other power, or both, that some day that will be true.

I'm a Mormon

I'm a mormon
and I've been wondering whether I should tell you so
because it comes with an identity and labels
many of which ring true
many of which I refuse to stand for
many of which I lay at night wondering if that's the person I am

I'm a mormon
a woman, a human, a person
with layer and depth
though i feel like I'm being crammed in a 2 dimensional expectation

I'm a mormon
and every tony is a slap in the face
every tony helps me find introspection
every tony is a champion of stereotype

I'm a mormon
the rhetoric of homosexual repression
the epitome of philanthropic hypocrisy
a racist, a polygamist, a bigot

i'm a mormon
and i'm trying to hard to serve
looking for ways to understand others
trying my best to make this life worth something

I'm a mormon
and I wonder if each feeling and impression
really is as significant as they say
because I'm starting to think that
I'm really as gullible as everyone thinks

I'm a mormon
and you cannot take away my experience with the divine
those experiences which were tangible
leading to a path of confusion
leading to a path of clarity
filled with love, filled with love

I'm a mormon
and it's nice that when i'm all alone in a strange land
that there's always a family there for me
a universal family
filled with love and drama
it wouldn't be a family without it

I'm a catholic
and though conversion means a change of state
I never really left it behind

i'm a mormon
and i can honestly say I'm a better person because of it
I don't feel like I'm right or wrong
I'm just trying to be a better person
trying.

Who I'm becoming

I'm a mormon. I honestly don't know if I always will be, but for the time being, that is part of who I am, and that's a good thing.

But beside that, I want to be a good person, and I hope that is something I will always hope to be. I decided once that I could no longer berate and beat myself up for not being the person I wanted to be, rather I needed to look at if I liked the person I was becoming. And it turns out that I think I do like the person I'm becoming, with adjustments happening all the time.

For the past few days, I've had a couple of interesting experiences that has made me ponder my motivations and my beliefs. As I've questioned my faith, I started letting my mind drift into the possibilities of what I could be doing. I could go out drinking, I could wear more appealing outfits, I could start lying. Some of these choices might not be so bad, some would definitely turn me into someone I'm not.

My faith is important to me. It gives me hope, it uplifts me, it leads me to introspection. In fact it was reading the scriptures tonight that led me to these musings. But, whether because I'm imperfect, smart, or human, my faith often fails me. While I don't deny the faith-building experiences I've had, I do wonder whether I'm still going in the right direction, still listening to the spirit, whatever that is.

And when my faith wavers, so too does the structure of rules and discipline start to shake. Nothing seems necessary anymore, I can go party, get what I want at whatever cost, and be the person that I sometimes think I want to be.

But I guess the obvious truth is that I really don't want to be that person.

I'm thankful for the word of wisdom because of the discipline it teaches me. I'm thankful for the scriptures because of the introspection it causes. I'm grateful for the law of chastity because I want my physical commitment to only go so far as my emotional commitment with someone.

And there is a measure of which I know I can't do things alone. Those lonely, despairing moments, where something clearly greater than myself, in an almost tangible fashion, lifts me up in a way I could not have done alone. Those times where you realize, there is more than humanity at work here. And it's probably true that I still have much to learn from these moments.

But it still remains that my faith often fails. And in these moments where I'm wondering what to do next, I simply must ask myself, who do I want to become?