What the Brother of Jared Can Teach Us about Women’s Ordination
As we approach the second Ordain Women priesthood session action, the pattern set by the Brother of Jared resonates with me. His example of asking the Lord for light, after being initially rebuffed, buoys me up as I prepare to faithfully approach the door of the Tabernacle, knock a second time and ask to be accepted as an equal in the household of God.
I am regularly asked, “If you have faith in God and in the Restoration, why is agitation for greater inclusion of women in the Church necessary? Why hasn’t God already taken care of it?” I’ve thought a lot about this. I truly believe in the Restoration and that Christ is at the head of this true and living church. Part of what makes the Church a living church is that it grows and adapts to the needs of its members. Just as “the Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath,” the Church organization was made to serve God’s children and not the children to serve the organization (Mark 2:27).
Since we live in a fallen world, there are societal and cultural influences that have been part of shaping the Church over time. We do not live in Zion yet, and every disciple of Christ must strive to build the kingdom of God. I believe female ordination will hasten the work of establishing Zion. Proposing female ordination will change this iteration of church organization, however I do not believe it is asking for God to change His mind. I believe He already sees my sisters and me as having equal ability to exercise the divine power and authority that our brothers currently exercise.
In this circumstance, I think about the Brother of Jared and his interaction with the Lord. The book of Ether tells us the Brother of Jared goes to the Lord and says, “O Lord, in [our boats] there is no light… And also we shall perish, for in them we cannot breathe” (Ether 2:19). God answers the Brother of Jared, instructing him how to modify their boats so that they can breathe and thus survive the journey, but God doesn’t answer the Brother of Jared’s question regarding the darkness. God simply provides the bare necessities for the people to cross the waters safely. However, the Brother of Jared returns to the Lord, reiterating the importance of the light to the people, and asks again, “O Lord, wilt thou suffer that we shall cross this great water in darkness?” (Ether 2:22). The Brother of Jared understood that his community would be able to safely cross the water this way, but he wanted the journey to be a better experience for everyone. The Lord asks the Brother of Jared how he would dispel the darkness. This is when the Brother of Jared suggests the shining stones.
Through the Restoration we are blessed to have the Holy Priesthood, and it provides the way for us to safely cross the waters of mortality. If, like the Brother of Jared, we approach our Father in Heaven and say we too hope to make this journey a better experience for everyone, I believe that that’s acceptable to Him. My sisters and I have earnestly studied out in our minds the matter of gender inequality within the structure of the Church, and we suggest female ordination. We recognize that the power and authority to make this decision lies with Him who guides our church, Christ Jesus. We simply ask that our leaders and prophets prayerfully consider and ask God if this be right.
NYT on Mormon Women Questioning Their Role at Church: A Response to Questions and Criticisms
OW’s Kristy was among those interviewed for a recent New York Times article on Mormon women who are questioning their role in the LDS Church. She responds to questions and criticisms that arose in discussions following its publication. Kristy’s OW profile can be read here. LWS
The recently published New York Times article, “From Mormon Women, a Flood of Requests and Questions on Their Role in the Church,” has been received with varied enthusiasm among Mormons. Those in the LDS community—both men and women—who are not comfortable with Ordain Women or Mormon feminism in general, seem to have some common questions and criticisms of the piece. They express frustration that women’s roles in the Church were understated by those of us who were interviewed about our faith for a worldwide audience. To facilitate mutual understanding, I’d like to highlight some of these questions and criticisms and offer a few words in response.
Women can hold their babies during blessings. At least, that’s what I thought. The Church Handbook of Instructions, however, specifically states that “only Melchizedek priesthood holders may participate in naming and blessing children.” I’d heard about women who 10-20 years ago held their babies during blessings that took place in Mormon churches, and I watch deacons hold the microphone in the blessing circle all the time, even though they don’t have the Melchizedek priesthood. So I thought my request to hold my baby during her blessing was reasonable. After all, I’ve often heard of fathers, uncles, brothers, and grandfathers who are invited to participate in the blessing circle even though they are not members or are inactive. I’ve been told it’s a way to help them feel the spirit again, feel important, and be included. In fact, for that very reason, my husband’s inactive uncle joined in the circle when he was blessed, and my brother-in-law, who left the Church, was approved by the bishop and invited to be in the circle during my first baby Evie’s blessing. I’m an active, temple-recommend holding woman who has served a mission for the Church and held callings, and I’m the baby’s mother. Surely there had to be a place for me to participate in her blessing? But I was denied that experience. It is quite clear from lds.org and photographs the Church uses in its curriculum that this is what men do. Note, especially, the lds.org site on priesthood blessings. All the images are of men exclusively, even when they’re doing things women theoretically could do, like holding a baby during a blessing or being a witness at a baptism. And I’m not alone in wishing I could have held my baby. Other Mormon women and men feel similarly.
Women with children under 18 can’t be seminary teachers. This, of course, is not true. My early-morning seminary teacher in South Carolina for all the years I attended was a mother of four and an inspiration to me. However, she was an unpaid teacher, and seminary teaching was her assignment/calling. What the NYT piece was referring to is the Church Educational System (CES) policy that women who are mothers of young children cannot be hired to be paid seminary teachers. They can, however, teach seminary as unpaid volunteers. When a paid, female seminary teacher becomes pregnant with her first child, she is fired. My friend April confirmed this policy by calling the director of the Church Educational System in her area. Read his response in her article here. Many outside of Utah have been surprised to learn that the Church employs and pays seminary teachers who teach release-time seminary during school hours. I do not think it is fair that my amazing Sister Marsh, who woke up every morning while it was still dark and for seven years volunteered her time to teach us the gospel, could not be hired by CES if she were to apply for a job with a paycheck to do the same thing in Utah.
Bishop’s interviews are fine the way they are. Some have criticized the article’s description of how problematic it can be for a girl or woman to meet one-on-one with a male church leader behind closed doors to discuss topics of a sexual nature or to be disciplined and judged by an all-male church council, where her sexual history is laid out. I think a follow-up CBS interview with Jodi Cantor, one of the NYT journalists who wrote the story, is significant: Ms. Cantor notes that most women she talked to weren’t saying that the policy should be completely abandoned. They only asked that another woman be present. I believe this reflects Mormon women’s general feeling that their male leaders are good people. They are our fathers, brothers, grandfathers, and friends. And we know that most leaders have our best interest at heart. We also know what it feels like to want to fulfill a calling to the best of their ability, and given current church rhetoric, that can include being privy to very intimate details. Bishops and stake presidents are instructed to inquire into the full extent of a sexual transgression in order to decide what discipline a member might require. Members are encouraged to confess sexual transgressions to their bishops, with guidelines that encourage them to disclose those acts about which they feel guilty. I believe it’s helpful, however, to recognize some of the consequences of such policies, detailed here and elsewhere. It is particularly poignant when boundaries are violated, leading to unnecessary embarrassment, further trauma for victims of abuse or, in extreme cases, perversion or loss of faith.
Women can be ushers. True. People have correctly pointed out that they have seen female ushers at general conference sessions in the Gonference Center in Salt Lake City. I, too, have seen them while attending sessions there, both with my family and as part of a BYU choir. I was thrilled to see these women! However, this is not common in our local wards and stakes. Most wards only have male ushers/greeters, because it is a task laid out as a responsibility of Teachers in the Aaronic Priesthood. Like the general conference exception, this is not the case everywhere. I was called as a ward greeter in my BYU ward and loved my calling! That’s the only time I saw that happen on a local level, though, as there were no 14-year-old boys in my singles ward. I believe a direct policy or instruction to bishops from church headquarters directing leaders to call girls and women to be ushers at the local level is an important step, and I am encouraged by the fact that this is already happening at the Conference Center. Recently, Neylan McBaine suggested calling women to be ushers. She also suggested that portraits of the women’s general presidencies should be hung in church buildings along with those of the male general authorities. This was done recently in the Conference Center. I’m encouraged by these initiatives to give women more visibility and hope they signal more to come throughout the Church.
What if the answer is no? One of the most common questions that supporters of Ordain Women are asked—and that many asked me after seeing my comments in the NYT—is: What will you do if President Monson directly addresses Ordain Women in general conference and says, “No”? I believe OW’s Kate Kelly said it best a day after the NYT article appeared. She wrote:
“My philosophy is much the same as Shadrach, Meshach & Abednego in Daniel 3:18. They had no doubt that the Lord would deliver them from the fiery furnace & a full expectation that it would happen, ‘But if not…’ they said, their faith in the Lord would continue on unwavering. I feel the same way about Ordain Women. I have no doubt in my heart that women will someday be ordained, but…if…not, I will still remain faithful. I don’t think that pure hope indicates a lack of faith, quite the contrary. I think it illustrates a true and unwavering desire.”
I echo Kate’s faith and determination. Like the prophets of old and my pioneer ancestors, I will press forward with faith in every footstep, as I walk with my baby daughter to the Conference Center on April 5th and wait in the standby line for the priesthood session. Please stand with us there.
Happy Birthday Ordain Women
Jane S. Richards, Emmeline Wells, Phoebe Woodruff, Isabelle Horne, Eliza R. Snow, Zina Young, Marinda Hyde, Dr. Ellis R. Shipp, Bathsheba W. Smith, Elizabeth Howard & Dr. Romania Pratt Penrose wish Ordain Women a Happy Birthday with many returns!
It’s been a year since Ordain Women launched its website on March 17, 2013. We chose the date for obvious reasons—it was also the anniversary of the founding of the Relief Society. In anticipation, a handful of us called, emailed, begged and prodded friends and family members to consider going public—photos, names, words and all—on the need for the ordination of women in the LDS Church. We knew there were many in the Mormon feminist community who had thought seriously about women and priesthood—some for many years, others more recently—and what going public might mean. Hundreds had even signed the All Are Alike unto God document calling on church leaders to “thoughtfully consider and earnestly pray” about the ordination of women. But it’s quite another thing to lay bare your conviction and commit to public action, particularly in a community that tends to confuse questioning with faithlessness. It proved to be startlingly compelling.
As the first Ordain Women profiles showed up in our inboxes, we were relieved, yes, but more than that, we were deeply touched by the courage, faith, trust, thoughtfulness and sincerity of the stories we read. One year, 250 profiles and well over half a million page views later, we still are. How could we not be?
Mindy, a mother who believes her “children’s ability to serve their God is not defined by their genders,” who longs for “a future where they serve God side by side in faith in all capacities; leading, blessing, baptizing, nurturing, and healing through the power of the Priesthood.”
Maggie, a returned missionary with “no satisfying answers” for the investigators she taught who “asked why women couldn’t hold the priesthood.”
Ellen, a psychologist, Primary president and grandmother of 10, who feels “disaffected and sad” that she “cannot participate fully in the Church” because she is a woman.
Jamie, a father, life-long member of the Church and former counselor in a bishopric whose conscience tells him “that the ordination of women is simply the right thing to do.”
Mary Ellen, named for her Mormon pioneer great-grandmother, who in graduate school “met women pastors, women professors, women studying to become ministers, women providing pastoral care and counseling to their congregations … women engaged in both rigorous theological inquiry and the practical application of gospel principles … women leading their flocks, guiding worship services, teaching parishioners, and rendering compassionate service” and longed to serve her “religious community the way they served theirs.”
Tinesha, a BYU student, who says, “Being a Latter-day Saint has brought so much joy to my life, yet the inequality I’ve seen is so persistent and so apparent.”
Christian, a scientist, who in his “darkest spiritual times,” sought “voices of wisdom and compassion,” often belonging to women, and “hungered for those voices to come in the form of priesthood blessings,” particularly knowing that “some of these women … hungered to have the ability to serve this way as well.”
Marina, a physician, who finds “peace and comfort from our scriptures and doctrines,” and yet is “dismayed that our church does not take full advantage of all of the talents that each member … has to offer because it restricts priesthood authority and the positions that require it to men.”
Emily, a Cubmaster with a master’s degree in divinity, whose “heart aches” because she knows “God loves His daughters and trusts us to act in His name,” but asks, “Why doesn’t my church?”
Nancy, a bio ethicist, Primary pianist and grandmother, who observes that we “are quick to sympathize with what we see as oppression of women in other circumstances and in other religions, but we don’t always recognize it in our own lives … [and] don’t understand that being deprived of the opportunity [to be ordained] is an act of oppression.”
Chandler, a seminary teacher, who, while on a mission in the developing world, saw having adequate leadership in branches as a major “barrier to the growth of the Church … even though these branches were full of capable, worthy women,” and believes that “the restoration of all things will include the ordination of women.”
When we started this whole enterprise, we knew that the very idea of women’s ordination had to enter the realm of the thinkable and the familiar before it could enter the realm of the possible.
With this in mind, Ordain Women:
- Created an online public space where Mormons can articulate their support for women’s ordination
- Sponsored three public, faith-affirming direct actions:
- Our launch event during the priesthood session on April 6, 2013
- “Equal in Faith,” an interfaith fast with hundreds of Mormon, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, Lutheran, and Buddhist women as well as those of other faiths joining together on August 26, 2013, both in person and virtually, to highlight the need for gender justice in religion
- Our priesthood session action, where over 200 women and their male allies gathered at Temple Square on October 5, 2013, and asked in faith for women to be admitted to the priesthood session of general conference and for church leaders to consider the ordination of women
- Raised thousands of dollars to help women travel to Salt Lake City to attend our October 5, 2013, and our forthcoming April 5, 2014, priesthood session actions
- Received extensive coverage through the New York Times, Al Jazeera, USA Today, The Guardian, Huffington Post, NPR, and many other national and international outlets as well as all major Utah media outlets, including the Deseret News
As a result, many faithful Mormons who hadn’t really thought about the ordination of women, not only began to consider it, but embrace it.
Too, we’ve welcomed several recent Church initiatives that indicate our leaders are listening, as thoughtful leaders do, and responding positively to the desire of the women they serve for a more inclusive community of faith, including:
- The lowering of the age requirement for women missionaries
- Women offering prayers in general conference
- The announcement of two General Women’s Meetings per year
- The availability of the priesthood session to be heard by all through live streaming, including women
- An greater emphasis on gender-inclusive local councils
We hope and pray more will follow.
As Ordain Women enters its second year, our profiles remain foundational to our efforts. Please revisit our profile pages and consider submitting your own. Then join us in Salt Lake City on April 5th.
The Global Need for Priesthood Keys
I am currently a member of a small branch in a geographically large region. My branch is a rented building that is an hour’s drive away from my home, while the permanent regional building is four hours’ drive. I’ve never been to the mission office, but I am aware that it’s about 12 hours’ drive from where I live and is in the same town as the temple. I still love this small branch.
As a member of a small branch, it is impossible to not consider women and the priesthood. The branch president, though he lives in town, rarely seems to find the time to attend Sunday services. The first counsellor retains the majority of operational duties (assigning talks, making sure the building is open), but he does shift work, making it impossible for him to attend every Sunday. A little over a year ago, the regional president visited with an order stating who was in charge. It was a priesthood assignment line, directing the fewer than 10 active men, including the two male missionaries, who would be in charge of branch operations in the common case that only two or three priesthood holders were in attendance on a given Sunday.
Prior to our branch being assigned missionaries, I attended one meeting where no males over the age of 8 were present. This meant that we officially could not have a sacrament meeting, and we couldn’t partake of the sacrament, because no priesthood holders were there to perform the ordinance.
Though not opposed to women’s ordination, I was not an advocate for women and priesthood keys until this branch, because right now, in my tiny branch, men are often absent. We don’t just want priesthood keys in order to bless our children. We need priesthood keys so we can take the sacrament. Because of my experience, this practical argument in support of women’s ordination is persuasive enough to me that it simply makes sense to ordain women.
It is clear that in the absence of worthy males, women need to be able to perform ordinances. But should women only be able to perform priesthood ordinances when men are absent, as was the case in World War II Germany? During the war, all German males above the age of 12 were conscribed for defense service. The women in these German branches were allowed to bless, pass and partake of the sacrament. When the men returned, the privilege was taken from the women. In a quiet conversation I had today in the temple baptistery, the male ordinance worker suggested that this occurred because in World War II, people thought the Second Coming was at hand. The world was in enough crisis, he opined, to give women priesthood keys. In that one area. Temporarily.
Does this mean that there needs to be a national or global crisis of apocalyptic proportions in order to allow women to perform priesthood ordinances? What about the region I live in? Why must we be denied the sacrament because the national and church governments are not in crisis? What if the women in my branch are given priesthood keys so we can take the sacrament? What about the worthy women living in Salt Lake City who should be able to perform ordinances? What about the single mother in California or Spain or Argentina who has a desperately sick child? What about the new widow in Japan who begs her visiting teacher for a blessing?
Because I now see the Church with a global perspective, I’m no longer apathetic about women and the priesthood. There are women in the Church today who need the priesthood so they can perform and take part in vital ordinances and make it possible for others to partake in ordinance work. This isn’t a want. This isn’t even about equality or authority. This is a requirement in order to do the Lord’s work. It is a need.
Today I went to the temple to begin work for some of my female ancestors. My branch is a twelve hours’ drive from the nearest “mini” temple. I drove 22 hours to the bigger temple to ensure it would have workers. Clearly, my branch does not have an assigned “temple night” wherein we regularly attend, much less supply priesthood holders. Months ago, I made an appointment to tag in with a youth group from another ward on a Saturday. I planned. I booked in. I travelled. But this ward youth group didn’t show. No one called, even though both they and the temple had my number. So I sat in the baptistery with one male and 3 female ordinance workers. I watched the sisters store the clothes and towels. One sister mopped the floor. Then they closed the baptistery. There weren’t enough priesthood holders. I could not do the work.
My tears baptize no one. My prayers confirm nothing. I seek to do ordinance work. I need priesthood keys.
“Coming Out” As A Mormon Feminist In Support Of Ordination—On TV
This story by April is cross-posted from The Exponent Blog.
If you would like to demonstrate your desire for women to hold the priesthood but didn’t make it out to Salt Lake City to join Ordain Women at the Priesthood Session last October, you have another chance. Ordain Women has decided to attend the April 2014 priesthood session.
I participated in October, in spite of my fears about declaring my desires to participate in the priesthood so openly. Before Ordain Women, I had enjoyed semi-anonymity, using only my first name here at the Exponent. My involvement in Ordain Women resulted in a pretty dramatic “coming out” as a Mormon feminist to my Mormon family, church leaders and predominantly LDS local community.
The day that the Ordain Women October Priesthood Session Action event Facebook site launched, someone directed my parents to my positive RSVP. This had the potential to go very badly, considering that we had a big ol’ fight after someone pointed out my support for Pants to Church Day in 2012. However, my dad sent me a short, tactful email requesting my “thoughts on this.” I emailed back telling him that I support ordination of women and included a copy of my Ordain Women profile. My father responded with a long letter that essentially said that my parents did not know whether they agreed with the concept of women’s ordination, and that they dislike public demonstrations, but they trusted me and would not try to stop me from doing something I felt called to do.
I was one of four women who signed a letter to officials at church headquarters requesting tickets to Priesthood Session for 150 women. The day Church Headquarters responded was busy for me. I was painting a new guest room in preparation for hosting a friend from out of state who would stay at my house during the priesthood session event. The LDS Newsroom responded to our letter requesting tickets, gave copies of our correspondence with Church Headquarters to the press, and announced a new policy that Priesthood Session would be broadcast live. So the press called us. I was on TV that day on all local Salt Lake City TV stations. My neighbor across the street called me to ask if my house had flooded, as that was the only explanation she could think of for all the TV crews at my house.
I thought more concerned family and friends would contact me after I was all over the news. The Ordain Women website had about 20,000 views that day, with mine being the most viewed profile, so I was pretty sure people were looking me up. But I mostly got radio silence. My best friend from high school sent me a thoughtful letter saying she didn’t want ordination, but she was following my posts and was impressed with me and with other Ordain Women supporters. Two college friends who have left the church because of gender discrimination issues contacted me to express their admiration for my efforts. Two strangers sent hate mail.
My stake president called a few days before the priesthood session. He wanted me to get a babysitter and bring my husband and meet with him that very night. I was not able to accommodate his short-notice meeting request but we met a week after the Priesthood Session action. He extended some advice and caution but assured me that I would not be disciplined for supporting women’s ordination.
The day of the priesthood session action my dad came over to speak with me. He told me that although I had personally received radio silence, he and my mom had received many calls from concerned relatives and friends ever since I had been on the news. (At this point, I feel it necessary to mention that I am 37 years-old.)
“Why don’t they call me?” I asked.
“That’s what I tell them. Call April.” My dad responded correctly.
However, he had written down the questions people were asking, some of which, he confessed, were kind of offensive, and he was wondering if I would mind answering them for him. We had a nice talk as we went over two legal size pages of questions.
When I arrived at the park to meet Ordain Women supporters who would walk together to the priesthood session, I saw crowds of women talking to reporters about their desire to fully participate in the work of the Lord as priesthood holders. After spending most of my life following social stigmas that silence women and compel us to feign that we love our exclusion, it was like a miracle to see so many women willing to openly express their righteous desires to fully participate in the church. That was the best part of the evening for me.
When we arrived at Temple Square, a church spokesperson met us and asked to speak with the four women who had been corresponding with her–including me. She seemed like a lovely person but, of course, she did not have good news for us. We would not be admitted. However, we were not asked to leave, either.
While we waited in line, one of the men attending priesthood session took it upon himself to police us. He marched up to us and told us we were “out of order.” He was saying things like, “You think women should baptize? Pass the sacrament? Be bishops?” as if that would be horrible. But one of my friends disarmed him with some talk about their shared Scottish roots and he calmed down.
I was near the front of the line, so I was one of the first to be turned away personally. I thought I was prepared for that, but I was a little surprised at how hurtful it felt to me. I knew that invited men had participated in the General Relief Society Meeting inside the Conference Center and uninvited male spectators were allowed to watch it in the Tabernacle the week before, so I was prepared to be admitted to the Tabernacle but refused entrance to the Conference Center. Instead, women were forced to stay outside. Many of the other women were crying as they were turned away. I did not shed tears, but I realized later that my sadness was apparent anyway, when I read this.
Since I was done so soon, I offered to help a wonderful sister who came all the way from Germany to claim the international tickets her bishop had ordered for her at Will Call. To my knowledge, she was the only woman among us who was successful at getting tickets from her local priesthood leader. We went to Will Call where, for the first time that evening, I encountered a grumpy, angry volunteer usher instead of a trained, smiling PR professional. He shooed us away from the Will Call line, not even allowing us to ask if my German friend’s tickets were there, and demanded that we go to Gate 20.
“What do you think is at Gate 20?” asked my German friend.
“A PR professional who will tell us that the session is only for men and boys,” I replied. And I was completely right. Unfortunately, that particular PR professional happened to be a really nice person from my own ward, who is married to my Relief Society President, whom I also really like. That was probably the hardest part of the evening for me. I felt sorry for this German woman, who had come so far and so desperately wanted to get into the session, and I felt bad that my neighbor had to go through the unpleasantness of enforcing the gender restriction. And I wondered if we were still friends.
That evening, I was so weak and exhausted I asked my friend to drive the car. I attributed my discomfort to the stress of the day until I developed a fever and realized I was actually physically ill. Of course, virtually everyone attributed my sickness to a weakened immune system due to stress, so maybe that distinction is irrelevant.
While waiting in line at the Priesthood Session, a reporter had asked the woman standing beside me how she felt. She said she felt proud. I am glad the reporter did not ask me that question. I did not feel proud yet. I felt tired and sad and sickly. But now, looking back, I also feel proud.
I am coming back to the Priesthood Session this April and this time, I am not afraid.
The Ordain Women October 5, 2013 Priesthood Session Action: My Experience
I heard about the October 5, 2013 Priesthood Session action months ago, and my first reaction was one of trepidation. My entire adult life I have firmly believed that women would one day be ordained to the Priesthood in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I used to discuss this doctrine with my dad and remember him explaining that there was no more scriptural justification for denying women the Priesthood than there had been for denying black men the priesthood before 1978. However, in all that time I had never publicly expressed that view.
So, going to Conference and asking to be admitted to the Priesthood Session was a big step for me. While I firmly believed in our right to ask questions of our leaders and to request that they seek inspiration, demanding change was not the way we did things in the LDS Church. I wasn’t at all sure this action would be seen as the former and not the latter.
But as the details emerged, it was clear that the organizers and I were on the same page in regard to how this event should happen. They inspired confidence in their leadership, and I began to believe, not only that something great would happen on the 5th of October in Salt Lake, but that I would regret it if I didn’t take the chance to be part of it. The flight, fare and schedule I had been eyeing for weeks was still available, enabling me to fly out of my small town in Mississippi without paying a premium, so I bought a ticket.
While I was cautious about the people inside the LDS Church with whom I shared my plans, I found a lot of support from friends who are not part of the LDS Church. They sent many messages of support, which I greatly appreciated. And I continued to get private messages from other LDS Church members, who expressed their support or, at least, their understanding if they didn’t necessarily agree with my position.
When Friday came, I was suddenly very nervous. There’s a big difference between posting something on the internet and getting yourself on a plane – all alone – and going to a park where others have promised to meet you. I knelt to pray before I left home that day, and the only words that came out were, “This is hard.” Yet, as I expressed my willingness to do it, I could feel the love and support of both my Heavenly Parents. It was as if the message was that the time had to come to do what I had promised to do. This wasn’t the first time I had gotten the impression that I was put on Earth specifically at this time for a reason. My emotions were very close to the surface the whole day and all through my first flight. Though I was alone, now I didn’t feel at all alone.
When I sat down to wait on my connecting flight, I started talking with the couple next to me. We discovered that we were all LDS, and then they asked me why I was heading to SLC. I wasn’t ready to have that discussion in such a public place, where I could see others who were listening, so I simply said that I was going to view Conference. He asked if I had tickets, which I didn’t. I was sure that it all sounded very odd.
We got on the plane, and I discovered that the husband was sitting next to me with his wife in the row in front. He was easy to talk to, and we spent most of the 4-hour flight in conversation. We discussed church and jobs, and I found that he had worked on all of the wood molding in the Conference Center. At the end of our flight, I decided to tell him just why I was going to SLC. His response was completely positive. He wished me well and said he hoped we would be allowed to enter the building for the session.
I had at one time believed that might happen, but by the time it was my turn to ask if we could enter the session, there was no doubt what the answer would be. I told the gentleman there I had come from Mississippi to attend this meeting. He expressed sincere regret that a trip of that length would be in vain and reminded me that I could watch the meeting online. After that, I enjoyed some great fellowship with sisters who had come from far and wide for this event. I hated leaving, yet I knew I had done what I came to do. I arrived at home just in time for the Sunday morning session.
Something great did happen on October 5th in Salt Lake City, and I was there. Women expressed a desire to be included in the male-only Priesthood. We were not loud, belligerent or irreverent. I suspect that was unexpected by those who met us on Temple Square. The images of us watching men and boys walk in instead of us and of each of us asking for permission to enter are powerful. They bring tears to my eyes. So many women had so much hope that it would be different. While we were met, mostly, with respect and care, the fact that the official Church statement said that our group was divisive was disappointing, especially given the talk by Elder Uchtdorf earlier that day explicitly inviting those with doubts and concerns to be part of the Church and stating that inquiry is appropriate.
I am very glad I went. Being with this group of women buoyed my spirit and gave me hope for the future. I don’t know if there will be any acceleration in the changes the Church is making to put women on a more equal footing with men in terms of authority in the Church, but for the first time ever, there are public conversations happening about the issue of ordination for women, and it’s no longer quite so difficult for me to stand up in public and say that I think it should happen.
Understanding the Oct 5th Participants
Today there are a lot of negative assumptions made about the supporters of the Ordain Women movement. I decided to try and get a picture of who they are as a group by surveying participants in the October 5th action
While about two hundred supporters of Ordain Women were waiting in line for the Priesthood Session of General Conference on October 5th, I was sitting in front of my computer watching photos of the event appear on Facebook and updates on Twitter. At 4:09 PM, I saw the following tweet.
LDS Church spokesperson Ruth Todd had just told the group that they would be denied entry into the Conference Center and the Tabernacle. As women and men lined up to ask for entrance individually, I put up my survey to ask about their experiences. Over the following week, I received just over 200 responses. I’m not going to comment on the data or responses, as I think they speak for themselves.
Who participated in the Ordain Women October 5th Action?
- Members of the church, who make up 95% of respondents
- People who attend church regularly, with 72% of respondents attending church 2-3 times per month or more – just 14% report that they do not attend church
- Mostly young people, with 80% of participants being age 40 or younger
- Lots of women, but 22% of participants were men
- Many individuals from Utah and Idaho, but 34% live elsewhere, including distant places like the UK, Ireland, Germany, Thailand, Denmark, Brazil, Africa, Canada, China, and Mexico
How did these people participate in this event?
- 45% stood in line for tickets to the Priesthood Session
- 4% attended the Priesthood Session at their local ward or stake buildings
- 51% participated in some other way, including watching the session on TV or Internet, supporting Ordain Women through social media, and submitting their name to be carried on a card by others who were at the Conference Center
What made these people want to participate in this event?
“I’m looking for an answer to a question; I’m looking for clear doctrine about women and the priesthood.”
“I wanted to support my sisters in the gospel, as I see absolutely no reason they should not be fully equal with men in the church”
“I want Church leaders to seek direction from the Lord on whether or not women should be ordained, return, and report.”
“I believe that women should be ordained. I also believe that women should be permitted to attend all general meetings of the church, ordination or no.”
“I have wanted equality in the church ever since being baptized. I have felt like and been treated like a second-class citizen in my faith community. When I first read the words ‘ordain women’ I knew my time had finally come and others like me were out there.”
“My wife and I have worked hard to be equal partners. When she cannot bless or serve as I do, it undermines our family.”
“I stood in support of great gender equality in the LDS Church and in the hopes that our leaders would see us and recognize that they need to address women’s issues in a more substantive way.”
“I’m still unsure how personally important Priesthood ordination is to me, but governance equality and social equality within the Church are supremely important to me. I support women and men on the whole spectrum of LDS Feminism, and I wanted to demonstrate that support. It was easy for me to travel from Orem, and I carried the names of a sister in CA, a cousin in NY, and a friend in WI who would have liked to attend.”
“The Spirit, and the comments from opponents online. I needed to stand up to the bullies.”
“If women held the Priesthood, I would feel more equal within the Church and within my family.”
“I feel that women cannot really be equal in the LDS Church without having equal access to the administrative and spiritual authority currently associated with the priesthood. I feel like I don’t have a voice in the church the way my male counterparts do, and that makes me sad. I’ve contributed a lot to the church, and I really hate feeling like I’m unable to contribute as much as I can.”
“The gender inequality that currently exists in the church is one of the reasons I haven’t attended church in several years. I wish I were as strong as the many women who feel the hurt of inequality but have the strength to stay. For me, attending church as it is right now is too painful for me. So for my own well-being I am keeping my distance, however if the church leaders would recognize and correct the gender inequality within the church, this would be a huge step toward me possibly being able to return to the church.”
“I wanted to stand up for myself and others in my truth that I am not equal, and have experienced pain over this. I feel like our leaders have turned a blind eye to the circumstances under which many women have left, and many others who stay but are not happy. I wanted to be seen and heard. And I wanted to put my body where my heart has been for years. I almost didn’t go because of a class assignment, but I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t. I believe that female ordination is inevitable, but the time-frame of that revelation is unknown. I believe there is cultural work to be done within the church before its members will readily accept and/or welcome a revelation like this. I wanted to stand in line to start/further the conversation about women’s issues in the church, and to move that cultural work along.”
How did the participants feel about their participation?
Note: 76% of respondents rated their overall experience as “Positive” or “Very Positive”
“It was powerful for me. I saw a man whom I know from home, and spoke with him about why I was there in line. I was grateful that Doug Anderson spoke with each person in line (although I know now that that was not the case for those at the end of the line). Several lines in “I am a Child of God” resonated deeply with me as we sang it. After we returned to the park, I sat with a few others and listened to the Priesthood session. Elder Gausse’s talk was playing when we sat down. The irony was so very sad and painful.”
“The stake president was pretty sympathetic and let us in, but another member was not very happy with us and tried to undermine the stake president. We were hasseled by the other member even after the stake president gave us permission in his presence to go in.”
“I feel that it was what I wanted and needed to do to be heard and to open the dialog of women’s position in the Church. I am grateful I had so many faithful women and men to stand with.”
“I’m teary and a bit crushed to see the pictures of so many of my friends standing in line and being passed by men. I’m so proud of them!”
“Both inspired and disheartened. I loved meeting other Mormon feminists and for the first time in years I felt that there could be a place for me within Mormonism. But after reading some of the exclusionary talks in conference and the negative comments online about OW, I feel very sad and even more pushed out of the Church.”
“Standing in line with all the women who showed up was wonderful. I made many friends today. Almost everyone was very respectful, there was only a little noticeable disdain from a few sister missionaries and one guard. I was completely caught off guard by how much it hurt to be rejected. In the end I ended up receiving a virtual rejection since the door was closed before I was able to ask for entrance. I cried as we sang I Am a Child of God. The words struck my heart, the lack of acknowledgment and valuation from the Church hurt.”
“I felt honored to be there. I felt the Spirit. I will be proud to tell my children and grandchildren I was there.”
“I wasn’t able to attend in person, but I feel invested in the request for gender equality and have been following the experiences and pictures shared by those who did attend. My heart breaks for these women in particular who were brave enough to request entrance, even though they had already been told they wouldn’t be admitted. The way these women have been treated (in words and actions) by other members is hurtful and discouraging, and is a reminder that the church (leaders and members alike) have a long way to go in emulating the Christlike love that we preach about every Sunday.”
“I didn’t stand in line because I feared social repercussions from family and ward members.”
“I expected that we would not be let in. I did not expect it to hurt so much to be turned away. That’s not what my Savior would do. I wasn’t as emotional at the time, but I find myself tearing up a lot in the days afterward when I think of the joys of being with my sisters in the gospel and the pain of being refused a place at the priesthood meeting.”
“It has caused problems in my immediate family, but I really feel the church needs me- needs strong women of faith who stand up for what they believe.”
“Feel fantastic! I feel like I was standing there, literally, for at least 20 women I know personally, who could not attend.”
“I felt like it was the right thing to do and that God loves me and is proud of me. Asking for more work and responsibility is the right thing to do to keep my temple covenants.”
“The Lord knows my heart and hopefully those with authority in our Church may understand some of the hearts of their sisters too.”
“It was more painful than I can describe to watch scores of men and boys marched past us. It was disappointing to have Ruth Todd claim that we are a small minority and dismiss our heartfelt desires. I cried when I was told, “No” at the door.”
“It was very sad to be turned away but very empowering to see so many women who feel the same way as I do.”
Reflections on Oct 5th
[Today on the blog, we are sharing reflections from participants in the Oct. 5th action. If you have an experience, either as a participant, that you’d like us to consider for the blog, please contact us. You can click on Danielle‘s infographic for an enlarged version.]
Cheryl
On Saturday I stood in line with my sisters (and brothers) and asked to be admitted to the Priesthood Session of General Conference. I chose to do so as an expression of my desire and readiness to be ordained to the priesthood. I did so to illustrate the inequality that exists in the Church. It is measurable. It is real. I stood in a park and listened to Suzette give a prayer that felt like a strengthening, sister’s blessing given to each of us.
I then walked to Temple Square and stood in line. Men and boys walked right past us, avoiding eye contact. I saw one man usher his son past us and say, “The back of the line is up here.” Up here. In front of us. I was passed up because I am a woman.
My heart sank when I heard the news: We would not be given entrance. However, I was grateful for the opportunity to ask personally, for myself, for a ticket. When it was almost my turn to ask, my heart ached, knowing what I was going to hear. Tears began to stream down my face, as I stepped up to the usher and said, “I would like to attend the Priesthood Session of Conference as an expression of my willingness and readiness to be ordained to the priesthood of the Lord. So I would like to request a ticket.”
He responded, “I appreciate that. However, this is a standby line for a meeting for men only.” I said, “Thank you,” and stepped aside.
Hearing those words, “men only,” was shocking to me. It was so strange to me, knowing I was being denied entrance to a building because I am not a man. That was the only reason.
As I stepped out of the line, crying harder now, I was embraced—enveloped in the arms of two women whom I had never met. I felt love, unity, and support from these women and all those who stood with me that day. Although I felt heartbroken and hurt, I also felt the spirit reaffirm that this is a righteous desire and that my Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother and brother Jesus Christ love me and my sisters. They are “no respecter of persons,” and my hope and faith that women will someday be ordained in this church that I love is stronger than ever.
Laura
On October 5, 2013, I joined nearly 200 of my sisters and allied brothers to stand in line for tickets to the Priesthood Session, never expecting to be let in. I know there were some who nurtured a hope of the doors being opened to us. I had no such hope, which will prompt the question by many people, “Then why did you even go?” I went because I knew that showing up was a demonstration of profound faith—faith in the Lord and faith in my Heavenly Mother and Father that they have called me specifically to this cause and prepared me for it my whole life. It was also an act of faith that this is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and that Christ is at the head of this church. I have faith that Jesus meant it when he invited us to knock, to seek and to ask. I have faith that Jesus meant it when He said that if anyone lacks wisdom to ask and that He would not upbraid the questioner.
I am not authorized to receive revelation for the whole church, and so I appeared in person at the feet of the Lord’s prophet to request that he ask the Lord for further light and knowledge on the role of women in the kingdom and in the building of Zion on earth.
I recognize that there has been a great deal of talk about the role of women, but none of it addresses the question of whether women should be serving alongside their brothers with full priesthood authority. I have heard speculation about why they do not do so; I have heard admonitions to stop questioning the way things are—that the Lord has not told us why women are not permitted to be ordained to the offices of or exercise the priesthood outside of the temple. “When He is ready, in His time, He will tell us,” I am scolded by family and others who wish I would sit back down and shut up. To wait without asking is to wait for a directive that will not come, not because the status quo is necessarily the will of the Lord, but because of the principle of agency.
As I understand agency, our Heavenly Parents cannot give us further knowledge until we search it out in our minds and hearts and then ask. This goes for the prophet as well as for me. To just tell the leaders of the church, “You know, it’s time to talk about this priesthood thing…,” without them searching it out in their hearts and then asking, would be to violate their agency. It would be to force upon them an answer to a question they have not asked, they may not want to ask, or for which they may believe they already have the answer.
What I did by standing in line for the Priesthood Session as a prospective elder was to make it harder for anyone who saw me standing there to dismiss me as a wild eyed, shrieking man-hater who is out to stir up contention, to be divisive and argumentative, and to force my will upon the church. What they were forced to see was a short, rather unassuming blonde woman, dressed as if to go to Relief Society, waiting quietly in the standby line as a prospective elder, requesting admission to hear our leaders speak. What the men who were admitted to the overflow area were forced to walk by was a long line of such women in all shapes and sizes, dressed as if to go to Relief Society, waiting respectfully and in an orderly manner in the standby line as prospective elders, requesting admission to hear our leaders speak.
Gabrielle
It was a brilliant, blue-skied fall day. There was a definite chill in the October air, but staying in the sun blanketed my soul in warmth. The earthy death of summer was fragrant in my nose as Mother Earth released her colorful leaves in preparation for the winter to come. The vibrant leaves were the welcome mat for her daughters gathering in the park that day.
Women started trickling into the park, in the shadow of the tall, white Church Office Building. The towering building looked down on us, perhaps trying to intimidate us and dissuade from gathering. I ignored the building and the eyes behind it as I met my friends, my sisters. There were many I have never met before but have mourned with, laughed with, cried with and have come to love over years of corresponding with them through various ways on the internet. A powerhouse of women, who have struggled to belong by waiting in the shadows for the right time to step into the sunlight and be known, were gathered in a family reunion of sorts.
Many hugs were exchanged. Lipstick marks were imprinted on cheeks. Hands were held. Smiles were abundant. The feeling of sisterhood and a sense of belonging and peace lingered in the clean air. More faces came, and behind most of their eyes, lay anticipation as to what the near future held. These faces did not know if they would be accepted or rejected by the church they loved and in which they wanted to be able to fully serve. Heartache was possible, but hope hung in the air as dried leaves fluttered to the ground. It was time to belong.
And then we gathered. We sang. It was a chorus of sisters and the spirits of our foremothers singing together in a harmony of voices that filled the park. A sweet prayer was then offered for guidance, love, and acceptance from the church leaders. Next came a few thoughts from the leaders of our group. I could feel such a warmth and love for these people standing next to me, many of whom were strangers. Our plan was to ask for standby tickets, so we could join our brothers in a meeting specifically held for them because they have the priesthood, the power of God to act and govern His people on earth.
Many sisters want to join in that governing power and be included in the top decision making processes of the church. Many of these sisters are ready to serve and use their talents to help their fellow sisters and brothers to the fullest extent possible. These sisters seek the power of the priesthood, and the purpose of today’s event was to show the all-male leadership that it was time to be included in all aspects and areas of the church.
I was there to support my sisters. The church of my birth lost me a few years ago. My heart was done being broken and disappointed because I was treated differently as a woman. I no longer believe or attend church services, and I have chosen to govern my own spirituality and growth. My being there was to be a shoulder for my sisters, to mourn with them and to listen. I remember how empty inside it feels when you are treated as a second-class citizen.
Any left-over emptiness and uncertainty I felt quickly dissipated as we lined up to make our way over to the Tabernacle, where we hoped to get standby tickets. Silently, we walked, our shoes clicking along the sidewalk like horses hooves on cobblestone. I felt a sense of belonging and unity among these brave ladies. My tender heart swelled as I gulped in a big breath of Mother Earth’s scent, holding back tears my proud heart wanted to cry. It reconfirmed to me that the choice I was making was the right thing. I knew this is where I needed to be, and I was proud to be included among these modern-day pioneer women.
We worked our way down the sidewalk, with the grey granite Conference Center on the right and the temple grounds on the left. Crossing the sidewalk, we passed through the black, rod-iron gates onto the temple grounds. I made my way to the front the line to get a sense of what would be going on. Now in the shadow of the temple, the granite for which was harvested in the very mountains I hiked as a child, we were greeted by a church public relations representative. Smiles were abundant. Handshakes were exchanged. I held my breath, as I am sure others were, waiting for welcoming admittance or rejection at the very doors of the Tabernacle—the same Tabernacle and temple many of our ancestors sacrificed to have built. These structures still stand today because of the tithes and service of the very members who were waiting to see if we would be allowed past the oak doors.
Slowly word trickled around that we would not be allowed inside, where we would have waited for tickets to watch the Priesthood Session live in the Conference Center with our brothers. We were told the Conference was to strengthen men and boys only, and we would not be granted entrance.
We did not walk away. Instead, we stayed in our line and shifted out of the way so our brothers, young and old, could pass by our line and through the oak doors without care. As we waited, some men snickered, most men kept their eyes downcast or staring straight ahead, ignoring their sisters who were standing there waiting and wanting to join.
After waiting for a while, it was decided those in line would ask the head usher, one-by-one, for a ticket, knowing the answer would be a short no. I had decided earlier I was not going to ask for a ticket. I was not a believer, and it did not seem right to me, but I still felt needed. I needed to be there. I helped send the message down the line to let others know what was going to happen, then I went back to the front of the line and stood slightly off to the side, watching.
Slowly the women and male supporters in the line requested a ticket. One after the other was turned away from the Tabernacle doors. Many faces, as they turned around, showed sorrow. Some showed tears. It was at that moment I knew where I was needed; I took a few steps closer, ready to hug those who had been cast off and rejected by the church.
The most touching moment happened to me when a woman who is a foremother in the feminist movement of the church, took her turn. As she pivoted around, I caught her. Her face was red, tears streamed from her eyes down her cheeks, and I offered my shoulder. In the very footprint of the temple, I saw years of rejection and pain in her eyes from the very institution that should have brought peace and comfort.
One after another was rejected and turned away from knocking at the oak doors. It made my stomach drop. I could see and feel their disappointment. It was a quiet rawness. With about twenty-five people to go, they suddenly shut the doors and walked away, not even acknowledging the remaining people standing in line or letting them know it was over.
And then we gathered again to buoy up our spirits. In the very heart of Temple Square, we sang. Voices rang out in the still, fall air. “I am a child of God, and He has sent me here… Lead me. Guide me. Walk beside me. Help me find the way.” Arms wrapped around each other, heads held high, tears falling at our feet, only strengthened my resolve to finish what they had started—to finish what my foremothers started.
This was not the end. It was a new beginning on a path that had been walked before and one I will continue to be a part of in my own supportive way. I love these sisters, these strangers, and my shoulders are broad and strong.
Oct 5th Mini-documentary
Our action on October 5th was a beautiful and transformative event for the hundreds of women and men who participated in person and the thousands who followed our journey from afar. We encourage those who are learning about Ordain Women to read our FAQs and the many beautiful profiles on this site to learn more.
As our goal is to advocate for female ordination, not simply to attend the priesthood session, we said several things with our action on October 5th:
-It is ok for faithful Mormon women to ask difficult questions
-It is ok for faithful Mormon women to make observations about the gender inequality they see in the church
-Many faithful Mormon women are actively seeking ordination, and we want our leaders to consider this and take it to God
-Many men also want women to be ordained
This beautiful mini-documentary was made by Emily Rampton‘s husband Rick. It captures the spirit and emotion of the event perfectly. It also demonstrates that all of the individuals who participated were extremely respectful and politely thanked the usher who refused them entrance. We were transformed by our own bravery and actions on October 5th.
Mormon Women of October 5 from Sunlight Cinema on Vimeo.
Our action also put a few things into focus, specifically about the priesthood session:
-Non-Mormon men can attend the Priesthood session, but faithful Mormon women can’t, even though they can now watch it live
-There were extra seats in the Conference Center, but women were not even let into the Tabernacle to view it remotely
-The Relief Society meeting is not a session of general conference and not parallel to the Priesthood session
Ordain Women will be doing more direct actions in the future, and if you would like to get involved, please: submit a profile or sign up on our volunteer form.
Emily’s words beautifully describe her motivation for participating and her experience on October 5th:
We question because we care.
One of the facets of Mormonism that I cherish the most is the pattern of authentic questioning followed by divine answers from heaven. The prophet Joseph Smith, who ushered in the restoration, was only able to do so by first pondering and asking questions. He was then humble enough to act on the answers that he received from above, even when they weren’t the answers he expected. I believe that we grow as individuals and as a church when we ask important questions, wait for responses from above, and graciously accept those answers.
Being a part of Ordain Women is a very tangible way for me to ask important questions. I can and do pray individually about gender inequality issues, but I feel led to bring forth these questions to the leaders of the church as well. I recognize it is they, not I, who have the authority to make the changes that would bring our church structure more in line with God’s grand vision for us.
As a woman in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I have authentic questions. While I am grateful that those who lead do their best to listen to the females they serve, I question why the governing structure of our church is almost entirely comprised of males. I question why we don’t speak often of our Heavenly Mother, although I am grateful that She is acknowledged in documents like The Family Proclamation. I am grateful for the opportunities my daughter will have to grow and serve in the church, however, I question why my son will be able to spiritually lead both men and women, baptize, bless the sacrament, stand as a witness at ordinances, bless his children, anoint the sick with oil and pronounce blessings, while my daughter will not have those empowering experiences.
I question these things because I care; I care about the church, I care about the women who are currently hurt by the patriarchal structure of the church, and I care about future generations.
Waiting in line for the Priesthood Session of General Conference was a way for women to show that we care, and I hope that as you watch the women in the video, Mormon Women of October 5th, you will see that we are authentic in our questions, valiant in our faith and hopeful for further revelation from God.
Just as Joseph Smith did not expect the answer to his question “Which of all the sects is right?” to be “Join none of them,” we may be equally surprised by the answer received from our question “May women be ordained?” But I, for one, felt honored to ask this question with my fellow sisters and am so hopeful and excited to receive an answer in due time.
Lessons Learned by a Male Ally
[This is the second in a two-part series by Mark. Today he discusses lessons learned as a male ally on October 5th. In the last post, he discussed his history as a Mormon feminist.]
Just after six o’clock, Saturday evening, October 5th, I was facing the freshly locked and roped off door of the Tabernacle. To my back, the sun reflected brightly off of the western granite face of the Salt lake Temple and onto the fluttering American and Utah flags flying atop a giant flagpole. I was absorbed in the evening light, when I heard the high, sweet voices of my sister. I glanced to my left and saw Kate Kelly leading our Ordain Women group in “I am a Child of God.” The voices rose, and the spirit flooded my heart. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I knew I would never be quite the same again. I have been privileged to work with Ordain Women as a male ally. This experience has taught me three very important lessons.
- I care deeply about the Church.
- God is never the source of inequality.
- My role as a male ally is important, but different.
I Care About the Church
I left the church in 1995, after a difficult two-year period following the September Six. Paul Toscano had recently become the Chapter 13 Trustee in Utah, and I had come to know and like him through our interactions in Bankruptcy Court. We had gone to lunch a few times, and heard about his experiences. During this period, I realized that members were being excommunicated, because they believed like me. This realization sent shockwaves through my life. These two years were the hardest years of my life. My loss of naïve belief was extremely painful. In the fall of 1995, I quit attending church altogether.
For those who have not gone through such an experience, the next eighteen years may sound strange. Despite breaking from the church, I could not let go of much of what I believed. During these years, I would say my nightly prayers, ponder the meaning of life, and usually fall asleep listening to hymns. (O My Father is by far my favorite hymn.) I missed churched. But, I did not know how to return to an institution, which seemed incapable of separating itself from injustice. Specifically, I could not see a way back to an institution, which denies women access to authority, because this act of denial causes so much pain by delivering the message to women that they are something “less.”
I was raised by Mormon feminists, and cannot accept the proposition that inequality comes from God. My grandmother, Beatrice Peterson Marchant, was a widow, who lived just west of Liberty Park in Salt Lake City. She raised fifteen children in her small two-bedroom home, with detached garage. She lived among the poor of Salt Lake City, and championed the underdog. In 1968, she won a seat in the Utah State House of Representative. As a state representative, over the next four years she fought for women’s rights. After Congress passed the Equal Rights Amendment in 1972, my grandmother founded the ERA Coalition of Utah, and fought for ratification. Despite numerous personal attacks from members in her ward, as well as attacks in the press by people calling themselves Mormons, she remained active, until her health failed in the 1980’s.
My mother, Elva Marchant Barnes, served side by side with my grandmother in the fight for equality during the 1960’s and 1970’s. However, my mother ended her active participation in church in the mid-1960’s, after a particularly contentious interview with a politically active, conservative bishop, who disagreed with her beliefs on women’s rights. My mother had brought my father into church activity, but my bishop pushed her out the door. She went on to accomplishments in other areas, including successful fights for consumer protection legislation, six years of service on the Utah State Board of Regents, and a very long tenure as Chairman of the Utah Higher Education Assistance Authority, administering student loans in Utah.
During the fall of 2012, I read Joanna Brook’s “The Book of Mormon Girl.” I loved it. I started thinking of the possibility of another way to be Mormon. I liked the idea of reclaiming my Mormon heritage and putting on the cloak of unorthodox Mormonism. For a few months, I raised the possibility or returning with a few Mormon friends. I began listening to podcasts like Mormon Matters and Mormon Stories. I joined Facebook groups, such as Feminist Mormon Housewives. During these few months, I learned how Mormon I still am. Despite two decades away from the church, I still cared.
In early April of 2013, I listened to a podcast, which mentioned Ordain Women. They were holding a Saturday evening launch event, at the same time as the Priesthood Conference Session. Immediately, I understood that this was the real thing. I had to be there. On April 6th, I arrived at the University of Utah Student Union Building an hour early (yes I was excited for the event.) I ran into Kate Kelly, her father Jim, and Margaret Toscano in the hall outside the theater, where the event was to take place. I listened to the speakers, and was moved. I laughed and cried with Debra Jenson, as she gave a very heartfelt (and entertaining) talk about her road to Ordain Women.
Ordain Women finally gave me a path back to the church. Ordain Women gave me hope that things can change. We can be a part of the revelatory process. The history of the church demonstrates time and time again that God calls people to knock and ask and plead for revelation. These people are not always the same people who are called to ultimately receive the revelation. Understanding this role, I once again have hope and feel that I have a place in the Church.
God is not the Source of Inequality
Throughout history, human beings have succumbed to the temptation to justify their domination over others, but declaring it to be the will of God. If you are a king, a slave owner, or the patriarch of a family, it is tempting to believe that life will be easier, if you can convince people that a challenge to your authority is a challenge to God’s authority. This trick is historically so pervasive that most people accept it, without question.
Several years ago, while preparing to teach a class on the origins of law, it dawned on me how effective this trick has been at all times in all parts of the world, and a tool to maintain control. Only with the Enlightenment period did people begin to question this tactic. While we have made great strides in overcoming this pernicious idea in the governments and businesses of the developed world, this idea is still very strong in many homes and churches.
We need to recognize that inequality, based on claims of authority from God, violates the greatest of all the commandments. Jesus Christ taught in Matthew 22: 37-39 — “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” This is the standard that Jesus gave us for measuring the legitimacy of all other teachings. In verse 40, Jesus continued: “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” None of us want to be treated as “lesser than.” Inequality violates the commandment that we love our neighbors as ourselves.
The Role of a Male Ally
As I watched the events unfold on Temple Square, I was elated. It was the feeling I have as a litigator, when I recognize that the other side has committed a serious error, and I can feel the trial swing my way. What I soon realized was that for the women of OW, the emotions stirred by the event were much more complicated.
Even though I was standing with the Ordain Women group near the doors to the Tabernacle, it was clear to me that as a man at any moment, I had the option to walk through those doors. Nobody would question my right to be there. Nobody would be concerned that I was unworthy. Nobody would argue that I was “less than” what was required to walk through those doors. My maleness would ensure my “right to enter.”
While the women also saw that things were going well for Ordain Women, they still had to stand in front of the large wooden doors and ask: “may I enter?” Each had to bear to pain of being told, you are not sufficient; you may not enter. I could see the pain, as the male usher rejected this plea from each daughter of God. Walking out of the north gate of Temple Square, I looked over at my friend April. I felt my gut wrench, as I saw the pain in her eyes.
I am committed to this cause. I am in it for the long haul. I will do all that I can to see that women receive the priesthood. I believe that as male allies, we were able to contribute in a meaningful way to the cause, and I feel that we need to work to recruit more male allies. However, on Temple Square, I also learned that “it is not about us.” As male allies, this has to be an act of love for all the women in our lives.