By Common Consent, a Mormon Blog

November 23, 1980. I am in labor. A midwife attends me at my home. The pain is greater than anything I could have imagined.
“Is it close?” I ask.
The midwife nods. She’s a Mormon hippie, and she’s smiling.
“Hurry,” I moan.
“Oh no,” says the midwife. “There’s nothing to hurry.”
“Please.”
“I think it’s a girl,” she says. “I can’t say for sure, but I can feel her spirit. It’s a sweet, tinkly spirit. Yes, I think you’re having a girl.”
“I can’t do this.” Read the rest of this entry »

I found this letter while looking for something else. Does it matter when I wrote it? I don’t think so. Does it matter whether I wrote it to one of my children or just in a fit of maternal imagination? I don’t think it does. If you are the parent of a struggling child, this is your letter.

Preamble: If I had a son or a daughter who could not see their own nobility, who was lost in the brambles of deception, believing lies about themselves, and who constantly imagined that others were seeing only their flaws (which every mirror magnified), I would say this:

Dear Child—

There are a few things I know for certain. One of them is that we are meant to be a family. We are meant to provide essential vision for each other during the inevitable times when one of us goes blind. Right now, it’s my turn to guide you through a dark time in your life, and the time will come (sadly but probably inevitably) when you will guide me. I won’t lie about what I see in you, but I will use more than my eyes to transcend the obvious and find the essential, and then to describe it to you and help you remember.

I won’t waste time bemoaning what this disorder has stolen from you and from our family, but will simply remind of a few honest truths.

We are all jerks, you know, and we are all miracles. We are blundering fools, and we are radiant saints, screwing up royally and then discovering that we have managed to find a royal throne anyway. We are given to each other so that we have somebody’s arms to blunder into, and somebody’s gentle nod to acknowledge the treasures we all bring with us. I know for certain that you and I belong together in our sometimes unsteady, often undulating family circle. Read the rest of this entry »

Most of us have now had lesson #30 in Gospel Doctrine: “God is No Respecter of Persons.” The young man I team-teach with taught it three weeks ago, and I watched, mostly in silence. MOSTLY. My students know what I do, so the question came up, directed to me: “Why was there a priesthood restriction?” I was actually shocked when a fifteen-year-old asked, “Was it because of Cain?” I was thinking the kids were learning other things, not the same garbage I learned at their age. It tells me we haven’t cleaned up adequately. Read the rest of this entry »

Last Sunday, I woke my son with the words, “Elder Hanks has died.”
He responded, “Duffy? He died?”

I always called him Elder Hanks, and got upset when some of the aides in the center where he spent his last years called him Duff and handled him like a child. I wanted to yell, “Do you have any idea who this man is?” Read the rest of this entry »

Part III

Prejudice, which President Kimball called “thou ugly,” mattered deeply to President Gordon B. Hinckley. He was troubled to hear about anyone being mistreated—and particularly when the excuse for mistreatment was race-based.

Darius Gray was similarly concerned as he received countless calls from men and women all over the United States who were still dealing with the ripples of racist folklore—people whose children were told that they were cursed, or that all blacks had been “neutral” in the pre-existence; white members who pulled their children from Sunday school because they didn’t want them in the same class as a black child; investigators or new converts who were addressed with racial epithets. Darius, in his calling as the president of the Genesis Group (a support group for black Latter-day Saints), told President Hinckley about some of these incidents. He heard later from President Hinckley’s daughter that she had found him pacing in his living room. When she asked what was wrong, he said, “Darius has told me some things, and I am troubled.” Read the rest of this entry »

PART II

As I state in the poem quoted in Part I of this series, I do believe that what we call “race” is a gift, but certainly not one which must include extra pain for those with extra melanin. Because humans will always find excuses for division, race offers a ready pretext and also a challenge. One of the most profound lessons of the Book of Mormon is that we as a community of Saints, with Christ as our center, can become one; that there need be no “ites” among us; that (as in IV Nephi) we can care so deeply about one another that we will not suffer any to go hungry or unsheltered.

The priesthood restriction was so solidly founded in the idea of a lineage-based curse that I personally cannot separate the policy itself from the philosophies which supported it. For me, it is an impossible paradox to have a God who is no respecter of persons, who told Peter “What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common” (Acts 11:9) but who—in what we call “the fullness of times”—would withhold the richest blessings of His Church from one group. (It is completely different to exclude one group from full gospel blessings than it is to assign one group—such as the Levites—to function as priests to the others.) We claim to have the “same organization as existed in the primitive church.” We claim to be the restored Church of Jesus Christ, as His Church was described in the New Testament. Thus, though missionaries in New Testament times did not initially preach to the Gentiles, that was changed as Christianity spread beyond its first center and the mandate was given: “Go ye into all the world” (Mark 16:15). There is, in fact, a rich history of early Christianity in Africa. Read the rest of this entry »

Part I

In the current cover story of LDS Living Magazine, Keith Hamilton tells about his journey as a Black Latter-day Saint—which has been remarkable. The article is based on Keith’s new book, Eleventh Hour Laborer. I enjoyed his book (in fact, I did a blurb for his back cover), though I differ strongly with him on one point. Because we disagree on a key issue, and because he has used some of my writing to support his ideas, I want to be open about where I stand.

Keith claims to have received revelation that the priesthood restriction was ordained of God. In his book, Keith says, “I…know unequivocally that the priesthood and temple restrictions formerly faced by blacks in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were the Lord’s doing. How do I know it? By personal revelation…” Read the rest of this entry »

(Cross posted on www.aml-online.org)

We should have known that anyone who could write a melodic, lyrical ballad about a serial killer (John Wayne Gacy) still had some secrets and mysteries to explore. In fact, he announced just that in the final lines of the John Wayne Gacy song:

And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid.

In his Salt Lake City concert, Sufjan Stevens talked about a dream he had had the night before. He had attended a “by invitation only” Prince concert—featuring all of the original band members. Except it wasn’t quite a concert. It was in a trailer, not a theater. And it was somebody dressed up to look like Prince, but not actually Prince. And he was doing karaoke. Badly. Nonetheless, in the dream, Sufjan and his friends were enthralled, raving about how good the performance was, deceived by their own expectations and convincing themselves that they really had seen Prince. Read the rest of this entry »

My husband and I saw a Tom Stoppard play recently called The Real Thing. Compelling ideas, and a lot of clever banter—mostly about fidelity: whether we can truly be committed to another person or if we simply make daily bargains with them.

But enough of substance. I was fascinated by one of the play’s devices: the search for just the right music to signify or bring back important moments in one’s life. The final song of the play is the Monkees’ “I’m A Believer”—perfect, because the protagonist is declaring himself a believer in true and permanent commitment. Throughout the play, he has been experimenting with music, trying to find not only the song but the arrangement which takes him back to an important moment or transition in his life—something he can hold on to. He wants to find eight. Read the rest of this entry »

How many families will recreate the Nativity in their living rooms on Christmas Eve? Impossible to even guess. Some will use baby dolls or teddy bears for Jesus; others will use real babies. Many wannabe angels will be cloaked in sheets and crowned with tinsel halos. Shepherds will drape a towel over their heads, secured with one of Dad’s ties. The wisemen might wear aluminum crowns and bathrobes. The children will likely get impatient and giggly. The mother might get frustrated, though she’ll try to hide it. The father (it was always Dad in my family) will read the Christmas story regardless–all the way to “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” Read the rest of this entry »

There were some marvelous quotes in conference.
Pres. Uchtdorf: “Divine love makes common words into scripture.”
Elder Perry: “There’s something about reviewing the lessons of the past to prepare us to face the challenges of the future.”
Pres. Monson: “Were we to step back, however, and take a good look at what we’re doing, we may find we’ve immersed ourselves in the thick of thin things. “
Elder Holland: “A difficult journey becomes more difficult when a mist of darkness arises, obsucring the view of the path. This mist descends on all the travelers, the determined & faithful as well as the weak.”
From Elder Holland’s grandfather about the BOM: “No wicked man could write it, no good man would write it unless commanded of God.”
What were some of your favorites?

On Thursday, Aug. 20, Darius Gray, his sister Sandra, his ninety-year-old cousin Russell, and I gathered with some filmmakers to record Russell’s memories of World War II.

Russell was in the segregated army, on the black side. On his ship, which headed to Guadalcanal and then to Iwo Jima on December 8th, 1941, Black soldiers occupied the under deck, which was perpetually flooded with vomit- and excrement-tainted water–up to six inches of it. The white soldiers occupied the upper decks; black soldiers were not allowed in that more privileged area. Once, the black troops were told that the ship carrying their food had been sunk, and so they went without for two weeks. The white soldiers, meanwhile, ate well. The officers, according to Russell, were all white Southerners. Why Southerners? Because, he said, somebody thought Southerners knew how to handle the “colored soldiers.”

Upon hitting the shore, the black soldiers were stripped of their ammunition–all but one clip. The bulk of amo was then given to the white soldiers. Read the rest of this entry »

Sunstone starts tomorrow (Thursday), and the bloggers are coming. I will be responding to a wonderful paper by BHodges on C.S. Lewis–and I have had my husband read and comment on it as well, so I’ll be proxy-responding for him. Believe it or not, I will not be talking about race issues (though Darius Gray will), but about fiction in a couple of my presentations. (Oh, I might sneak a comment about race into one of my other respondant papers…) I was just asked to substitute as a respondant for Tom Kimball’s session on “the best books.” (Btw, Tom is one of my favorite people, so even though I’m over-scheduled as it is, I was happy to agree.) He wants me to come up with short lists of my favorite books by LDS authors in any genre–science (right, like I’m going to know about that…), fiction, cultural phenomena, history, devotional, etc. So I thought I’d open this to BCC. What are your top five books written by or about Mormons?

Read the rest of this entry »

The letter I won’t send…

Dear Son–
I woke you up for Church this morning differently than I normally do. It wasn’t, “Time to get up. Church starts in an hour.” It was, “If you’re going to church, you should get up. I hope you choose to go.”

As of this morning, you are eighteen. I’ve always told you that when you reached this age, the choice to attend or not to attend would be yours. Read the rest of this entry »

My sister, Jenette Blair Lambert, will become a chaplain tomorrow, July 30. She was featured in a news story on KSL (Salt Lake) tonight–because she is a first. Read the rest of this entry »

As my family and I drove home from our brief vacation in Arches National Park, we heard this strange ad on the radio: “I was raised to be a cannibal. That’s why I am an honest businessman…” It took a few seconds for us to realize that we had misheard. The word wasn’t cannibal but accountable. “I was raised to be accountable.”
Quite an important distinction. That word–accountable–has significant application for me right now. Read the rest of this entry »

Today, this is favorite poem, published in Dialogue 41:2 (Summer)
Here’s the first half:

Grace
By Annette Weed

I’m wedged between two lifetimes,
this one and that.
Like cement walls on either side,
they press close. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m going to change names for this post. I’ll just call them Mormon Mother and RM Son.

RM Son met the most beautiful woman in the world at BYU–or so he told her in a note he tossed her direction in the library, and which made her blush and timidly accept a date. They had the sort of romance we expect full-hormoned BYU students to have. That romance went beyond the plan, however. They got pregnant. Read the rest of this entry »

Elder Callister’s recent talk has been the subject of several blogs lately. One line got a lot of attention:
”Every man has the right to be married to a woman who makes herself as beautiful as she can be.”

I’m not going to comment on that line, but am going to provide a line I heard on Friday which should certainly be included in the onus of beauty. This, as reported to me, was said by Arthur Henry King: “You can tell it’s a good marriage if the woman keeps getting more beautiful.” Read the rest of this entry »

My father is an linguist whose kidneys have failed. That doesn’t sum him up, but it gives the context.
I sat with him on Wednesday during the four-hour process in which he is tethered to a machine which cleans his blood. He was sleeping when I arrived at the dialysis center. On the table at his side was a book titled _Pashtoh_. Knowing Dad, I figured this was a new language he was studying. Read the rest of this entry »

My daughter was exposed to a lot of anti-Mormon material in her childhood. In fact, somebody read her the entire temple ceremony from an anti-perspective before she even hit her teens. She stayed LDS, because she was living with me, but told her seminary teacher that she didn’t think she could bear her testimony because didn’t have one. The many things she had heard were deeply disturbing. He asked that she bear her testimony anyway. She did, and found herself overwhelmed with a sense of love and comfort. Read the rest of this entry »

Saturday May 23: Darius is particularly interested in the session on ritual healing, in which Jonathan Stapley will talk about men and women giving healing blessings. Though he needs to rest first, he instructs me to phone him when it’s time for the session to start. Why the interest? Darius’s mother, Elsie, was threatening miscarriage when she was pregnant with him. She had already lost several pregnancies and was desperate to keep her baby. She called in the sisters of her Pentecostal religion, who then anointed her belly with consecrated oil and prayed over her, dedicating the fruit of her womb to God. Darius knew from an early age that he had been so dedicated. Read the rest of this entry »

Friday May 22: The first session we attend is titled “‘Who is Man to Change that Segregation?’: Race in Twentieth-Century Mormon Culture, Practice, and Doctrine.” The title comes from a talk given at BYU by Apostle Mark E. Peterson. In the talk Peterson states: “I think I have read enough to give you an idea of what the Negro is after. He is not just seeking the opportunity of sitting down in a cafe where white people eat. He isn’t just trying to ride on the same streetcar or the same Pullman car with white people. It isn’t that he just desires to go to the same theater as the white people. From this, and other interviews I have read, it appears that the Negro seeks absorption with the white race. He will not be satisfied until he achieves it by intermarriage. That is his objective and we must face it. We must not allow our feelings to carry us away, nor must we feel so sorry for Negroes that we will open our arms and embrace them with everything we have. Remember the little statement that we used to say about sin, ‘First we pity, then endure, then embrace’” Read the rest of this entry »

Wed. May 20: It’s been a bad week for Darius. Two phlebotomies (the only way to control his particular type of cancer, Polycythemia Vera). He is weak. I know he won’t show it during MHA–although I’ll notice his energy levels and he’ll be honest with me. When anyone asks how he’s doing, he’ll say either, “TERRIFIC!” or “Blessed and highly favored!” Read the rest of this entry »

My husband and I will celebrate twenty-four years of marriage on May 17th, which is tomorrow.
Bruce, as most of my friends and co-bloggers know, was my professor before he was my husband. I got free tuition when I married him. He was thirty-four and insecure. I was twenty-nine and damaged. Read the rest of this entry »