I’m a seventh-generation Mormon, a wife, a mother, a sister, an editor, and a reader. I’m not a Latter-day Saint because my stake president excommunicated me in September 1993–either for apostasy or for conduct unbecoming a member, he wasn’t sure. I had, however, taken an unpopular stand by being pro-ordination, pro-Mother in Heaven, pro-equality in Church governance, and pro-gay rights.
I still am all of these things.
I’ve had the opportunity twice to worship with the local Community of Christ congregations. Women in the priesthood blessed the emblems of Christ’s suffering and triumph. To hear women’s voices, raised in reverence and authority, repeating the scriptural words I’ve heard every Sunday since I was carried into the chapel as a newborn to be named and blessed, was an experience of cosmic affirmation. It was true. It was right. It was the future.
I’d felt that sensation in June 1978 when our editor interrupted the Ensign staff meeting saying, “Blacks can be ordained.” The news ran like wildfire through the whole building. Every phone, every photocopier was busy. Within myself, barriers I didn’t even know existed crumbled to nothingness. Equality–it’s the future.
I’m in church every Sunday. Since being a pianist doesn’t require membership, that’s what I do.
I pray for our prophets: “Ask the questions. Help the seekers find. Hear the knocking and open unto us. Please.”
I’m a Mormon, and I believe with all my heart that women should be ordained.