Infuriating. Intriguing.

Why did I find this sign intriguing, even endearing, when I saw it on a church in the Cook Islands last week … but would find it frustrating if I saw it on my LDS church building back at home? 

Why would I feel a sense of loss if this church in the Cook Islands decided to be more inclusive and modern but cringe when my own church gives any indication of non-inclusivity or traditionalism?

Without church correlation, what kind of sign would my branch create for our church building?  Based on some of the signs I’ve seen in the foyer and the Relief Society room over the years, I can imagine that our sign would be clumsy and outdated. But we’d all be so accustomed to our sign that we wouldn’t notice it, unless we invited a friend to church.

What kind of sign would your branch or ward council create for your building?

Maybe the sign by the door of your church might not prohibit women’s pants or flower eis* or smoking, but what would your sign prohibit instead? Looking at cell phones during sacrament meeting? Casual clothes in the chapel? Beards? A dress code for youth participating in youth camps?  

Or maybe your ward council would make a sign prohibiting political references in testimonies and fizzy drinks at youth activities?

If I could make a sign for my home church using the Cook Islands template, I’d ban chewing gum while sitting on the stand. I’d prohibit commenting more than twice in Sunday School. My sign would also require Relief Society presidencies to sit on the podium and plan every other month’s sacrament meetings. That sign already hangs inside my head, and I’m perpetually annoyed when other people ignore it.

Signs for Superbowl Sunday 

Some time ago, I followed an online discussion about a US bishop who hung self-printed signs around the church building on Superbowl Sunday. If I remember correctly, the bishop hung the signs on all the doors of the church and on the pulpit in the chapel. 

Most of the online commenters seemed infuriated about the Superbowl signs. The term “unrighteous dominion” surfaced.

Especially coming from overseas, I like to think I’d find a Superbowl sign interesting and intriguing, similar to how I viewed the sign in the Cook Islands. 

It’s all fun and games until…

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. I can imagine that I’d feel less equanimity toward the Superbowl bishop if I saw my kids or fellow members taking the bishop’s posters too seriously. 

Is the bishop exercising unrighteous dominion? Or are offended ward members giving the bishop too much power? Do the previous two questions set up a false dichotomy? Whose fault is it if some people are gullible or guilt-prone? 

Are Getting Hurt and Hurting Others essential parts of our mortal schooling? Is this one of the functions of a true church, just as important as Getting Loved and Loving Others? 

When have I set up rules – a sign in my head – for judging another person’s goodness? When have I let myself get angry because I’ve given authority figures too much power? When have I been gullible or guilt-prone? 

More Intriguing Church Signs

I saw a couple more intriging church signs while in the Cook Islands last week. 

The signs that caught my eye are entitled:

(1) “Royal Nephite Lineage: All Polynesians Descend from Wakea and Papa, who Descended from Anianiku (Lehi),” and 

(2) “The Ancestry and Origins of Polynesia.” 

The signs claim that a female descendant of Lehi (Papa or Papanui-hanau-moku) married a male descendant of the Jaredites (Wakea) in 89 AD, and the couple founded all the Polynesian ancestral lines. 

I asked the family history staff on two different days about the signs. Both times, the volunteers told me that the posters were from church headquarters. However, on personal inspection, I saw a 2001 copyright at the bottom of one poster along with a private name, address, and telephone number in Orem, UT.

In this instance, I’m happy to see the speculative, non-correlated signs on the walls.  The signs provide insight into local priorities. I found these posters more intriguing than infuriating:  I didn’t want to travel to the Cook Islands and have everything be just like at home.

Conclusion

It’s worth mentioning that several Latter-day Saint women wore flower eis during the LDS service that I attended on Sunday, something that wouldn’t have been allowed in the mainstream church in the Cook Islands. This observation corresponds with observations I made while conducting field work with LDS women in Fiji. Fijian women told me that, because of their LDS church membership, they felt more freedom in choosing their clothes and hairstyles as compared to Fijian women who don’t belong to the church. They also felt more free to decide how they would interact with men compared to women who don’t belong to the church. 

On a more personal note, could I be more curious and amused – less mad – about traditions and cultural artefacts embedded in church systems? Or, should I be MORE mad? After all, even the Cook Islands sign, which I initially found endearing, is an example of male authorities policing women’s bodies (among other things). The Superbowl Sign and the Polynesian geneology charts have their own set of issues, especially if an observer were to believe that the signs came directly from an authority who speaks for God.

Can I be frustrated and intrigued at the same time? Is there a word for that? 

What if the function of the true church (or of a family) is to create situations in which we commit ourselves to complex, contradictory situations? Is the combination of Intriguing and Infuriating one of the signs of a true church?

July 22, 2021