My New Best Friend is a Mormon?

When the spouse organization of B's medical school hooked me up with a sponsor, I was dismayed to find out the girl, Carolyn, was from Utah. I panicked. I agonized over what I would say to her once she asked if I was Mormon.

Would I say, I used to be? 
Would I say, My family is, but I'm not? 
Would I offend her?

I feel this need to proclaim to everyone: I am NOT Mormon. See, my Mormon background does not define me! Look, I'm from Utah and I'm not Mormon. Don't even THINK that I'm Mormon. I will impress you with my non-Mormon ways. 

Omigod!!Joseph'sMythProfitBookofMormonMusicalNPRDemocrat

IhateGlenBeck!AntiProp8ProChoice!HellShitDamnBooze!GoUtes!!

So when my sponsor invited me to go to the beach with her last week, I was a little nervous. I put on my bikini with pride, lathered up with sun screen (? Does sun screen "lather"?) and we headed out. Placed our towels on the sand and...Carolyn is wearing a bikini! I smiled. We started the typical Get-to-Know-You's. 

She asked, "What did your family think of you coming here?" 

I explained to her that they were very...conservative...and that they were pretty upset. That there was a little bit of drama. That my family hadn't really spoken to me in awhile. I mentioned they were Mormon.

She asked, "Are you Mormon at all?" 

I didn't skip a beat. 

No. 

She said, "Okay" and went on to talk about her frustrations with some of the Mormons on the island. She explained she hardly ever goes to church on the island. When she does, she stays for sacrament only. She doesn't think the Word of Wisdom is inspired. 

In fact, she couldn't even remember what it was called. 

"That thing. You know." 

"Uhhh? The Great Awakening? The Temperance Movement?" 

"No. No. That thing. No coffee and tea? If soda had been around then, for sure it would have been thrown in." 

"The Word of Wisdom?" 

"Yes. That. You know more than I do. You're a better Mormon than I am." 

I cringed at that one. But, she laughed and said she doesn't drink coffee or tea, but she wouldn't think twice if someone did. 

She's a convert. Maybe that's why she couldn't remember Word of Wisdom? 

She showed up to brunch wearing a swim suit under a sundress. I wonder if it's an excuse to not wear garments? 

I find it hard, even now, to throw off my judgements of Mormons. Tsk, Tsk. Where are your G's? You know better. 

Who cares? 

Am I better because I don't believe and therefore have no obligation? 

I find it interesting that although I don't believe the Mormons, I still judge like one. Categorizing those that are "better" Mormons than others. Hating the "good" Mormons and liking, but labeling, the "bad" Mormons. 

I snapped out of it, but I wish I didn't judge. 

In the meantime, I'm excited that my new Mormon friend is a "cool" Mormon. One of the least judgmental Mormons I've ever met. 

Thank God. 

- Emily

P is for..

Apologies.  I had surgery this past week.  Don't think you all wanted to be subjected to my drug induced ramblings.  Though, I did schedule a return doctor's visit and remember to put it in my Blackberry calendar with the correct time, doctor's name and address while completely high on dental surgery drugs.  We now to return to our regularly scheduled posts.


 Polygamy...Priesthood:

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My ancestors were polygamists.  Family legend states the beloved apostle kept one wife in favor and the other far away, barely visited.  

I was exposed to a distaste and a disgust for polygamy early on.  My mother defiantly stated she didn't care if God himself came down and told her to practice polygamy, she was not going to do it.  I agreed.  Why should I have to share my husband?  As a Mormon woman, you spend your whole 20 years life looking for your Eternal Companion, and then you were expected to share?  Not okay.  

"Good thing we don't do that any more,"  I told my boyfriend B.  

He paused.  "You sure?" 

I stared at him.  "Of course.  You'll get excommunicated if you do nowadays." 

"But," he said slowly.  "What about in Heaven?  Can't a man be "sealed" to more than one wife?  And a woman can't be "sealed" to more than one man?  What would you call that?"  He wondered. 

I became upset.  This was one of the final straws.  A pin in a lock sliding into place.   

What the hell was it?

Eternal polygamy?  I railed against my Return Missionary friend.  "What the hell?  I've been tricked! How could I not have known?  How could I not put the pieces together?  Was I blind?  Was I stupid?  Explain it to me,"  I demanded.  "Explain this bullshit to me."

He  calmly quoted from Section 132.  

"Really convenient,"  I spat.  "Make Emma look like the bad one.  The Evil Woman.  Practice polygamy or be damned."

"Emily,"  RM said.  "In the next life, we won't care.  Why does it even matter?  Why does it bother you?  It's not that important."  

"I care.  It's important to me.  This is bullshit (clearly my word of choice).  I care now and I sure as hell would care then.  I would never just "get over it."  And to say, "Oh, no!  We don't do that."  Is a lie.  It's a lie and you damn well know it."

Needless to say, this friend and I don't talk anymore.  After I found out about Dusting the Feet, I attacked him.  His missionary "Priesthood Power" was a symbol of everything wrong with the Church.  Polygamy.  Lies.  Orwellian Ministry of Truth like historical revisions.  

I guess the only time I will accept polygamy is in my beer.

K is for...

Kolob: 

or Where is Kolob? 

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For some reason, I didn't feel quiet ready to write this ABC.  My writing teacher calls this a Red Flag of Avoidance.  She can tell when something is being left out of writing because the author is ready to talk about it.  

I knew I wanted to write about Kolob, but where do you start?  

"If you could hie to Kolob in the twinkling of an eye and then continue upward with the same strength to fly, do you think that you could ever through all eternity, find out the generation where man became to be?"  - LDS Hymn # 284

On warm summer night, my sister and I father outside to watch a meteor shower.  My dad joined us as we gazed up at the tiny pinpricks of light.  I sat explaining that the stream of light from the meteors happened as the entered the atmosphere and started to burn.  (Correct me if I'm wrong.  My area of expertise is most certainly not science.)  My dad looked up and marveled at the stars.  He wondered out loud, "Where is Kolob?"  My sister, only 14, asked "What is Kolob?"

What, my dear friends, is Kolob?  Why is my father, an intelligent, graduate scholar and business administrator asking, "Where is Kolob?"

The answer, as usual, comes from a "Primary Answer."  No, not Pray, Read Your Scriptures or Go to Church.  The answer, of course, is Joseph Smith.

J is for...

Joseph Smith:

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In the spring of 1830, Joseph Smith founded what is now known as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Soon afterward, many crossed oceans and continents to gather with him. Among these were several of my ancestors. 

My ancestors were nothing if not dedicated.   I believe this is part of me as well. 

Though I have to wonder, were they easily deceived?   

Andrew S. of Irresistible (Dis)Grace writes about the depictions of Mormons and Joseph Smith in the South Park Episode All About the Mormons.  I particularly liked this: 

Throughout the episode, Stone and Parker portray the family as being unwaveringly friendly and accommodating. Now, this is just to fit into the Mormon stereotype. However, the things that the family says as a result of this stereotype seem peculiar — even for Mormons. Specifically, the Mormon mother, Karen, says to Stan’s father Randy:

Randy, the last thing we want is for people to think we’re pushing our religion. We know there are a lot of beliefs out there and ours just works for us.

Now, really. Really? Mormonism is has a central evangelistic zeal to it. And even though Mormons recognize “there are a lot of beliefs out there,” and that there may even be some truths within other religions and beliefs…the more common idea, I would imagine, is that the church is deemed to have the *entire* truth, or the *complete* priesthood, etc.,

It's a great post.  Check it out here. 

I is for...

Investigate:

I remember the heart pounding feeling as I sought out to investigate.   Investigate.  Searching with the intent to find.  But, to find what exactly?  Faith?  Hope?  Truth?

It started with a simple question from a friend in Italy.  Why do you believe what you do?  I paused.  Have you really thought about it?  I laughed.  Of course I had, you know.  I don't just follow along without thinking.  I'm not a sheep.  Really?  Personally, I don't believe anything without really thinking it over first. I swallowed.  Uh.  Yeah.  Me neither.

I thought back to my first days out of Utah.  Moving out of state.  Out into the "big bad world" of my conservative Christian college.  I asked my religion teacher to explain the Trinity.  She answered:  The Trinity is complicated.  I took this to mean: I'm wrong.  You got me there Emily.  I crowed to my family back home, attesting to the ignorance of my roommate when she asked, Do you think there are levels of Heaven?  I gave my coffee drinking friend a Book of Mormon.  Pushed it on him twice after he halfheartedly thanked me and then left the slim blue book in my car.

What an ass.

I put my hands over my ears as my non-Mormon boyfriend asked me:  If a man can be sealed to more than one wife in Heaven, isn't that polygamy? 

I ignored him further still when he pointed out B.H. Roberts, the Defender of the Faith, had a list of questions about the Book of Mormon.  When Roberts presented his questions to the Brethren, they told him to be quiet.  I ignored him when he pointed out the Book of Mormon was very similar to a book published around Joseph Smith's time.  Around where Smith lived.

Until one day, I looked.  I investigated Lying for the Lord.  Milk Before Meat.  Celestial Polygamy.  Dusting the Feet.  Second Anointing. The Word of Wisdom.

My heart pounded each time.  Convinced I was going to...I don't know...be struck down.  I pushed onward.  Told myself, Come on.  It's just knowledge.   The image of Satan as a serpent flashed before my eyes.  I watched the Mormon episode of South Park, scoffing at the depictions of Joseph Smith.  Imagine my hurt when I found out two writers knew more about my religion than I did. 

I joined Postmormon.com and searched and searched.  I became convinced the Church was not as it claimed.  Joseph Smith was a con.  A liar.  A fraud.  I learned what really went on in the Temple.

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Handshakes?  Passwords?  God needed a password? THIS was what my life was supposed to culminate in?  A secret club?  I felt betrayed.  God was the master of The Heman Womun Haters Club.  A silly tree house with a No Gurls A Loud sign nailed to the front. 


I fell into depression.  For eight months I felt like dying.  I prayed to God to leave me in ignorance.  To help me accept Mormonism.  To forget what I had learned.  To take it all away.  I prayed to never wake up.  I prayed to die.  I wanted to die.

What did I do to deserve this?

And what do I intend to find?