One day, when the narrator asks Bartleby to help proofread a copied document, Bartleby answers simply, “I would prefer not to.” It is the first of Bartleby’s many refusals. To the dismay of the narrator and the irritation of the other employees, Bartleby performs fewer and fewer duties around the office. The narrator makes several attempts to reason with Bartleby and learn about him, but Bartleby always responds the same way when asked to do a task or give out information about himself: “I would prefer not to.” (from Wikipedia, on Melville’s “Bartleby the Scrivener”)

A liberal Mormon friend mentioned to me awhile ago that he’s taken up the Bartleby approach to church. When asked to do things that he finds discomfiting or morally repugnant, he simply replies “I prefer not to.”

I’ve thought about this a lot since our conversation. It seems to me that the Bartleby approach can deflect a lot of tension. One doesn’t have to say, “No, I will not install that pro-Prop 8 sign in my yard because I support gay marriage.” One can simply say, “I prefer not to.” This can, perhaps, work far better than a confrontation. The speaker doesn’t have to explain why they won’t participate, just that they “prefer not to.”

Can you think of ways that you might implement this strategy in a church setting? What might be the limitations of the Bartleby approach? How might it be helpful?

Death of the Virgin
by Fra Angelico, 1433-34

This lesson kind of bugs me. Ok, it bugs the crap out of me; there’s not a lot of practical advice on how to be helpful or speak to someone who is grieving. Are we really going to spout Joseph Smith’s advice to not mourn when our friend looses a baby, a spouse, a parent?

Still, I think this is a great opportunity to talk about some subjects we Westerners are often uncomfortable with: death and mourning.

First, the lesson manual goes into detail about all the death that Joseph had to face in his life. He’s had a lot of experience in this area. I would present his experiences as a launching pad for the following questions.

Is it necessary to have experience with death to know what to say to someone?
How do you react to someone who has had a loved one die?
Is it difficult to know what to say?

Teachings of Joseph Smith
When beloved family members or friends die, we have great comfort in knowing we will meet them again in the world to come.

“I am authorized to say, by the authority of the Holy Ghost, that you have no occasion to fear; for he is gone to the home of the just. Don’t mourn, don’t weep. I know it by the testimony of the Holy Ghost that is within me; and you may wait for your friends to come forth to meet you in the morn of the celestial world. …

How is this quote helpful for LDS (and non-LDS, perhaps)?
I worked as a hospital chaplain for several years, and I have found the idea of being with family members in the afterlife can be quite comforting. As hospital chaplains, we are not supposed to proselytize, but during the quiet long nights when I would sit with a family member as we did a “death watch,” sometimes, I found it helpful to talk about the Church’s doctrine surrounding what happens to us after we die.

“More painful to me are the thoughts of annihilation than death. If I have no expectation of seeing my father, mother, brothers, sisters and friends again, my heart would burst in a moment, and I should go down to my grave. The expectation of seeing my friends in the morning of the resurrection cheers my soul and makes me bear up against the evils of life. It is like their taking a long journey, and on their return we meet them with increased joy. …

With that in mind, though, how could these statements/teachings be unhelpful?

I think this is a big reason why I believe in God and eternal progression. The idea that we cease to exist when we die is horrific for me. The idea that we sit around on white fluffy clouds for eternity is also an idea I’m not crazy about.

Are thoughts about the afterlife helpful for those who mourn? Why or why not?

Parents who lose children in death will receive them in the resurrection just as they laid them down.

This is a section that I would find hard to teach. Go ahead and list the comfort the prophet(s) offer, but I would be mindful of those who have lost children (at any age). Such comfort can feel trite.

While we mourn when loved ones die, we can trust that “the God of all the earth will do right.”

So, I might ask again…Are such teachings helpful? Why or why not?
What would you find helpful if you were going through this situation?

If we don’t trust, are we bad?
How can we trust?

I would keep the above part of the lesson pretty short, and then, use the rest of the time as an open discussion about how1) we as mourners and the grieving deal with death and find ways to move on and 2) we as friends (visiting teachers, neighbors, etc) help those who are grieving.

Invite the class to share their experiences of what people have done that is helpful and what people have done that isn’t helpful. People usually jump at this chance to share stories.

And, FWIW, here are some things I try to remember when working with patients and their families:
1) Grief is similar to depression. The fatigue, the dark feelings, the inability to function and think clearly are shared by those who grieve.
2) Grief knows no time. Of course, everyone grieves differently for different lengths of time, but also as a function of the feelings of depression/grief, the griever is often slower—slower to respond to my inquiries, slower to knowing their emotions or being able to read mine. When I see someone grieving (or depressed), I have to take a deep breath and try to slow myself down.
3) The ministry of presence is a powerful tool; we can help people by simply being willing to be with them.
a. Being with them can mean remembering to check in on them with a phone call, email, visit throughout the day/month/year.
b. Or, being with them can happen during those visits. Being truly present and focused on the person and their suffering. So often, I want to fill the quiet space with empty chatter. A grieving person often is content to sit in silence (remember, time often doesn’t mean as much to them). Having a companion in their grief can be comforting; having someone feel those emotions, cry with them can make their journey feel less lonely.
4) Talk about the person who has died. Encourage the grieving to talk about him/her, too. It’ll be clear very quickly if talking about the deceased is too difficult. I respect that and move onto a “safer” topic.

Here are some books I love on this subject:
A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis (of course)
The Hour of Our Death by Philippe Aries—this book chronicles the changes in how we, as a Western society, have changed our mourning practices. Fascinating!
Help Me Say Goodbye by Janis Silverman—practical activities for the grieving child to do
Talking to God by Naomi Levy—while this book is not explicitly about death, it’s full of stories, prayers, poetry compiled by one of the first female Conservative Jewish rabbis in the US. One of my favorites.

What are your experiences with death and mourning?  What resources have you found helpful?

by Caroline 

(art is Dance of Peace by Abro)

A few months ago, Jessawhy talked about the role of the faithful Mormon feminist, and asked about ways feminists can contribute to the Church as they balance their faith and feminism.

I firmly believe there is a place for feminists within the Church. As Jessawhy references in her post, we are all the body of Christ. My role might be different than someone else’s, but we all, no matter our divergent politics or social concerns, have ways we can contribute to the Church and help make it the welcoming, loving institution Christ would want it to be.

Here are 10 practical ways feminists can make a positive impact on their local congregations.  Some of these are difficult – I know I don’t always have the nerve to speak up – but whenever I do, I invariably find people who have appreciated my perspective.

1. Make smart, insightful, and progressive comments in SS and RS.

2. Volunteer to teach lessons and give them an empowering, subtly feminist twist. (quote Chieko Okazaki as much as possible and use examples of great women throughout. Mother Teresa works great.)

3. Be proactive when something offensive is done. On a family history bulletin board in my church there was a disturbing sign which said that our goal was the ‘patriarchal order’ with a picture of a newly wedded couple right under it. They clearly meant something like celestial marriage, so I quietly changed the sign to say that. It’s now been there for 3 years. No one knows who changed it or why.

4. When something offensive is said or done in lessons and talks, kindly address either the speaker or RS president and voice your concerns. Chances are people will be more careful in the future.

5. Be open about who you are. If you are a working mom and loving it, be open about that and talk about why that works for you.  Mention it in discussions.

6. Write. Blog. Learn how other smart feminists are navigating the waters and contributing in a positive and progressive way.

7. Start a book group with open minded women in your ward. Discuss these issues. Raise consciousness. Read and discuss some of the classic feminist Mormon articles.

8. Tell people about things like Exponent and Feminist Mormon Housewives. A lot of women have these concerns but have no idea that stuff has been written about it.

9. Volunteer a lot in your ward. If you build up credibility as a generous giving person, people will give you the benefit of the doubt when you speak up in RS in a feminist way.

10. Don’t be afraid to do things a little untraditionally. My husband and I blessed our baby at home rather than church so that I could hold the baby with Mike. Not only that, I also wrote the blessing, which Mike read.

For me, the bottom line is talk. Write. Be open. Applaud when things are done well. Kindly address when things are done badly. And go with your own conscience, even if it goes against church policy or tradition. Just my two cents.

by G (which I promised to post almost a week ago! –EmilyCC)

So, as a follow up to God’s Problem where the question of human suffering and biblical interpretation led Bart Ehrman to agnosticism, we will read Take This Bread, the spiritual memoir of Sara Miles.

Sara was raised a secular atheist. A chef, an activist, a writer… religion, particularly Christianity, was the farthest thing from her mind. Then one day, out of curiosity, she stepped into a church, participated in the eucharist, and was changed forever. In her own words, “Mine is a personal story of an unexpected and terribly inconvenient Christian conversion, told by a very unlikely convert: a blue-state, secular intellectual; a lesbian, a left-wing journalist with a habit of skepticism.”

But the inconvenience of it all didn’t matter. it happened, and she couldn’t ignore it. As a chef, the core of her life was food, and feeing others, that act of ‘eating God’ spoke to her in a profound way, and in the scriptures she found a powerful spiritual doctrine to correspond:

“Poking around in the Bible, I found clues about my deepest questions. Salt, grain, wine and water; fig trees, fishermen and farmers. There were Psalms about hunger and thirst, about harvests and feasting. There were stories about manna in the wilderness, and prophets fed by birds. There was God appearing in radiance to Ezekiel and handing him a scroll: ‘Mortal,’ he said, ‘eat this scroll,’ and Ezekiel swallowed the words, ’sweet as honey,’ and knew God.

And then in the New Testament appeared the central, astonishing fact of Jesus, proclaiming that he himself was the bread of heaven. ‘Eat my flesh and drink my blood,’ he said. I thought how outrageous Jesus was to the church of his time: he didn’t wash before meals, he said the prayers incorrectly, he hung out with women, foreigners, the despised and unclean. Over and over, he told people not to be afraid. I liked all that, but mostly I liked that he said he was bread, and told his friends to eat him…

I couldn’t stop thinking about another story: Jesus instructing his beloved, fallible disciple Peter exactly how to love him: ‘Feed my sheep’… It seemed pretty clear. If I wanted to see God, I could feed people.”

And so that is what she did, opening food pantries in her town to feed the needy. Because that is what Jesus wanted her to do, feed his sheep.

Sara covers many themes in this book; conversion, faith, spiritual discovery, scriptural interpretation, political activism, ‘good works’, the difficult but necessary path of being ‘one’ with god’s people, women in the ministry, etc…

Here is Sara Miles’ This I Believe essay about her conversion, and you can read excerpts from her book here, here, and here.

We’ll discuss this book Aug 13 . I can ‘t wait to see what you thought.

And, I’m totally excited about doing the RS Lesson 14, but it won’t be done until tomorrow.  Sigh… a little overcommitted right now.–EmilyCC

by Amelia

a little over a month ago, a dear friend’s father died.  about two weeks ago, i went to her dad’s house on the day they were clearing out furniture and everything else so the house could be prepared for the market and sold.  i stopped to see my friend and maybe give her a spot of good cheer at a hard time.  we shared some conversation and some laughter.  i enjoyed being there.  and i think it helped my friend a bit for me to stop by for a while.

as they were wrapping up the last few details, i tried to keep out of the way by wandering around the house and the yard.  it’s a cute house—built in the 50s; big picture windows with a wonderful window seat; quirky architectural details; a door jamb recording decades of a family’s growth; a wonderful berry patch and fruit trees in the back yard.  and i knew i could make that house a home—a perfect place to raise a family; a yard brimming with growing things to nourish the body and the soul; a home full of love and joy and strength when life gets hard.  and i was filled with wanting.

a couple of days later, one of my best friends moved into a new little house after living with a family member for a couple of years so she could save money.  i was thrilled for her that she could be on her own.  and when i went to see her new place, i was even more excited.  she’s found a perfect little place—a one bedroom stand-alone apartment on the back half of a property in a historic part of orange county.  not only is the apartment cute, it has its own yard with gorgeous fully grown palm trees and flowers and the rent is unbelievably low and includes utilities.

i was so happy for my friend.  but i was also incredibly jealous.  i live at home with my parents at the moment in my own effort to save money (the joys of living on a grad student income in southern California).  while it’s wonderful in some ways, it drives me crazy in others.  i would be beside myself with joy if i could have my own little place all to myself—a little home that i could make my own with my books and my dishes and my own sense of style; a little home for myself where i could do what i want with no explanations to anyone.  but it’s something that will simply never be a reality while i’m a student.  for days after helping my friend get settled, i was filled with wanting.  again.

i feel a certain amount of shame that my reaction to one friend’s difficulty in settling her father’s affairs and to another friend’s happiness at making a fresh start was self-absorption—longing for my own fresh beginning; wanting what i cannot have at the moment.  i’m not entirely ashamed.  i think the desire to build a home is a good desire.  i think the desire to create my own home for myself now—to be independent and to provide myself a refuge—is a good desire.  but i don’t like the way i fixate on those desires to the point that they can become disruptive to my own state of mind and interfere with my ability to relate to others, instead focusing me on myself.

my understanding of the gospel has led me to believe—deeply believe—that we are to live life fully in this moment.  that we’re supposed to find what joy and beauty and goodness we can in the life we have now.  a couple of qualifications:  1. i understand that the conditions of some people’s lives are simply unacceptable, but in this post i’m talking about people like myself—richly and wonderfully blessed with incredible opportunities, living a generally comfortable and secure life.  2.  i know that many people respond to this problem by referring to promises of future blessings—either later in this life or in the next life.  i believe god has promised us blessings in the next life.  and i know that thought comforts some people.  but i’ve found it cold comfort.  and i firmly believe that even if we should acknowledge that god’s goodness will continue beyond this life, we’re supposed to recognize his goodness now.  more importantly, i think we’re supposed to build on that goodness—to live this moment fully and beautifully, which we cannot do if our eye is fixed either on what we desire but don’t have OR on what we think god will give us in the next life.

so here’s my question: how do you deal with such desires?  how do you make peace with the conditions of your life now?  more importantly, how do you do so without looking forward?  how do you live in this moment, fully and joyfully experiencing the gifts it brings?  feel free to share scriptures, thoughts, practices, behaviors, etc.  maybe i shouldn’t say this, but i’m going to ask you not to share reassurances that depend on future blessings.  not because i believe they’re utterly meaningless; i know such reassurances can bring peace.  but i’m looking for ways to live in the now because i believe that’s the key to peace and happiness.  so let’s save advice about future blessings and the next life for another post.

by mraynes and jessawhy

AZ NackerSnacker: A Family Dinner/Swim Party

Join us Sunday, July 27th at 4:30 at mraynes house near Dobson and Guadalupe in Mesa for dinner and a pool party. (email for exact address)

We’ll do a salad potluck so bring your favorite (fruit, green, chicken, pasta, etc), and if you’d like to bring something else, like drinks or dessert, just add a comment or email.

Please feel free to advertise this on your blog.

We look forward to seeing you there!

(email Jessawhy at  jessawhy at gmail dot com)

by EmilyCC

Sadly, our scheduled lesson provider is moving across the country this week and isn’t able to get tomorrow’s lesson up. So, we thought we’d offer an open-thread of thoughts and suggestions for how to teach this lesson. Here are some ideas we thought of (just off the top of our heads).

Questions to ask yourself and the class:
In the spirit of Exponent II, have you had an experience where you were asked to be obedient? What happened?
What traits are required to be obedient?
What is the difference between be being thoughtfully obedient and blindly following? When do we question and when do we just follow? Julie M Smith’s post, “Blood on the Doorposts,” regarding SSM in California has got me asking myself these questions ever since I read this.

Some resources to inspire you (or your class):
Emma Smith: My Story
Speaking of Faith podcast with Sister Joan Chittister (because we love our Catholic sisters)

What ideas do you have? Favorite scriptures, songs, stories?

When we’re on autopilot, our surroundings appear unremarkable. Our doorsteps, our dishes, the daily view from the window, the neighbor’s bicycle, a glass of water. Enter: my little Powershot. It fits in my hand; it’s snappy; and it has a delicious macro setting (sort of like an ultra-microscopic zoom at the flick of a switch). On a whim, I can crouch down and zoom in—and suddenly I’m in a world of unfamiliar terrain. It’s like my camera is a portal to these tiny populated globes glittering with life. If Dr. Seuss’s Horton had a camera, it would be a Powershot.

Of course, trying to catch (and make unfamiliar) that tiny fleeting image is not something you can prepare for with elaborate settings and equipment. I have no use for a tripod (unless I could find one that would simply appear every time I needed it and quickly disappear afterwards), and I don’t have time to experiment with different lenses and lighting apparatuses. I use my camera like the old pros used their Leica—frame, point, and shoot. Naturally, I would love to have all of that extra gear, but honestly, I don’t think I’d use it. I like the feeling of suddenly zooming in (out of the massive yucky atmosphere of “real” life) and making that pencil/sewer manhole cover/jar of toothpicks/zipper look unrecognizable—even beautiful.

*****

If you would like to be featured on an upcoming Friday, please contact me at phddilly(at)yahoo(dot)com

*Note: I added the exclamation point just because I’m a dork and I’m so thrilled to feature Brooke’s work!

Posted by Zenaida

Not long ago, I was surprised by a friend’s announcement that his political views were “liberal.” I never would have guessed that this friend would be so pro-choice, pro-free health care, pro-immigration reform in his views being from Provo, UT. After having my assumptions thrown out the window, I asked what his opinion was of me. His label for me was “not very political.” (Please note that this discussion was prefaced by an acknowledgement of the uselessness of labels as they carry different meanings for different people, but that’s another post.)

I suppose he’s right. I don’t enjoy politics, and I would rather spend my time involved in music or other pursuits, but I was somewhat ashamed of this assessment. I still believe I am “not very political,” but I try to be a somewhat informed voter, and stay a little better on top of what’s going on around me. So, I couldn’t ignore California’s court decision to allow same-sex marriages. I was celebrating! I have dear friends who could potentially be affected by this, and I can only be excited at the prospect.

I cannot imagine what it must be like to love someone and have the opportunity to build a life together thwarted in so many directions. What must it to be like to have the person you are closest to on the other side of a hospital door, and be unable to have any decision-making power or even the ability to be in the same room with them because you have no legal ties. The system simply makes it difficult for people to care for each other in some of the most basic ways. Today, I was listening to NPR, and the story of Chris and Don was told. They were together for decades, and their solution to legal issues was for Chris to adopt Don.

Another exposure came from reading Carol Lyn Pearson’s book “Goodbye, I Love You.” This book opened a window into the struggle of a homosexual man forcing himself into a heterosexual marriage because his eternal salvation was at stake. I cried.

My own views on this issue were largely shaped by my parents’ views and the church’s view. It was never really much of an issue, because it did not affect me, or really anyone I knew personally…until I went to college. I made a close friend that struggled so profoundly because of the forced repression of homosexual tendencies. It was so difficult to see damaging choices made because of society’s inability to be accepting of a different lifestyle. There was no support system to encourage healthy relationships because the entire notion of anything homosexual was considered “sinful” or “abnormal.” I think it is too simplistic to simply toss out and bury a person’s entire biological/emotional set up.

My next exposure to a same-sex couple was a family with a very healthy relationship. I saw genuine care and concern in ways that I would want to incorporate into my own relationships, and I couldn’t help but toss out my own prejudices. Their family is large, and open. They are willing to to extend love and acceptance to so many people, without qualification. They are truly amazing.

So, I may not be very political, but I can’t help but want to be sure I show up to vote in November.

Guest post by G

God’s Problem is about Bart Ehrman’s problem reconciling a belief in an all powerful, all loving, actively involved God with the reality of the enormous suffering in this world. The book is extensive in its scope, and I find myself scanning my notes (several pages worth) and not even knowing where to begin. There are his textual criticisms of the various biblical passages where he contests authorship and origin, there are his extensive explanations of the various biblical answers given, and of course, there are his logic-driven rebuffs to those answers.

In tackling this problem of suffering, Ehrman did an excruciating job of detailing what is meant by that word, giving us gut-wrenching reality checks, the numbers and visuals of ’suffering’ (i.e., 11 million dead in the Holocaust, 2 million dead at the hands of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, 30 million dead from the 1918 flu epidemic, every minute five people die of malaria, every minute 25 people die of water-related health problems, every five seconds a child dies of starvation, etc, etc, etc…).

This book was not just about personal trials and learning experiences, he is talking about the extremities of human suffering that are prevalent throughout the course of human history. Those billions living in pain and dying in horrific ways, was it because they had sinned? Or as a test of faith? Or because of cosmic forces of evil?

God’s Problem brought up all sorts of emotions, challenged many of my assumptions, and left me with more questions than answers. His scriptural knowledge is impressive (I am also enjoying his book, Misquoting Jesus), the contradicting explanations for suffering that he writes about have been on my mind a lot lately and his crisis of faith is one that I understand very well. I did find myself occasionally frustrated by the rigidity with which he held to an all-or-nothing view of the bible’s explanation of God. While rejecting the conservative Christian view of the bible as the literal word of God, he still stubbornly refuses interpretations that are not solidly rooted in the bible. For example, Jesus as divine and suffering on our behalf, or a God that is less-than omnipotent, or an eternal reward in heaven… those are all concepts that he finds attractive, but not substantiated by enough biblical authors to be in consideration as answers; “…for a biblical scholar like me, I have to admit that it still seems problematic.” (pg 272.) I also found his ’solution’ in the last few pages to be simplistic and shallow. However, given that the point of God’s Problem is to show how the bible explains suffering, one can hardly fault Ehrman for being rigid with what it says, or for not going beyond the scope of the book by expounding upon how we can alleviate suffering (a complex topic all of it’s own.)

This was a fascinating read, and I can’t wait to hear what you thought of it.

What parts of this book stuck out to you the most?
What arguments did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And why?
Anyone up to challenging or expanding upon Ehrman’s textual criticism of the biblical authors?
What of the LDS scriptures and doctrines about suffering, and how do they correspond to the biblical answers Ehrman talks about? Do they shed additional light on the subject?
And, of course, feel free to add anything else you’d like to share about the book or the topic.

(By the way, reading this book made me very excited to begin our next book, Take This Bread, which will be introduced in a few days. Sara Miles, raised an atheist, doesn’t have Ehrman’s burden of ‘biblical scholarship’ and as such finds a powerful interpretation of divinity in the bible, as well as a personal calling to help alleviate suffering in her community.)