Sunday, October 30, 2016

Suffer the Children

The first time Gerald attended an LDS Sacrament Meeting, he left with little recollection of anything that happened. Why? He was too distracted by the beautiful noise of children and the bustle of parents walking in and out of the meeting carrying crying infants and unhappy toddlers.

You see, in the Protestant church in which he grew up (along with most others I know of), children do not attend the primary worship service or at least not all of it. Instead, these churches have a nursery for babies and often a children's church program that happens concurrently with the regular adult worship service. In some cases, children attend the regular meeting for, say 15 minutes, and then go forward for a brief children's sermon before departing to another room for "children's church."

As a result, the worship meeting is pin drop quiet.

In our church, we welcome the children through our entire Sacrament Meeting. This is the one opportunity during the week for entire families to worship together, so there is no nursery or children's programming. During this 70-minute period, everyone is together. I'm not going to make a judgment call about which way is better; it's a cultural thing, not doctrine. I happen to like it that the kids are there. It feels right to me and seems in accordance with Jesus' teachings in Matthew 19, when he instructed us to "Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for such is the kingdom of heaven."

But as I said, it's culture.

(As an aside, "suffer" here is an example of a lovely King James English word, whose meaning has shifted entirely in modern times. Back then, it meant "allow" or "permit." Alas, the use of the King James Bible is another post for another time.)

Back to the topic, if we are going to suffer the children, indeed if we are going to welcome them into our meeting, then we need to truly welcome them, as children, not as miniature adults. We should expect them to act like children, and that means crying infants, active toddlers, talkative preschoolers, and squirmy kids. Seventy minutes is a long time, way too long to expect little people to sit quietly. Goodness, I am a full-grown adult, and sometimes it's even hard for me to do it, and I understand what's going on up there. These little ones don't have a clue, and their attentions spans are super short, much shorter than 70 minutes.

So how do we welcome them? First, we support their sweet parents and we don't judge. Once upon a Sunday, I had a 15-year-old, a 14-year-old, a 9-year old, a 7-year-old, and a newborn baby. Gerald was serving as Ward Clerk, back when Ward Clerks sat up front in the little "Clerk" booth and then walked up and down the aisles counting people. Remember those days? They don't do that anymore, but they did then, so I was alone in the pew. My 15-year-old son was also up front, preparing to pass the Sacrament, and my 14-year-old daughter was on the stand preparing to give a talk. I had just nursed my baby sound asleep, and all I wanted to do was sit and listen to my daughter give her talk, but my two little boys were acting like normal children. They were squirming around and being noisy, and I was sure everyone was looking at me and wondering why I couldn't control my children.

Sensing my distress, a kind, older lady sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, "Don't worry. Enjoy your daughter's talk. Your boys are just fine." I will never forget her. This kind gesture was exactly the support I needed right then, and it is the support I want to offer parents of young children now. Let's help them to know that we love their children and, more importantly, that we love to hear their children in Sacrament Meeting. We Mormons have a lot of kids, so our meetings will never be quiet, but isn't that wonderful? Of course inconsolable babies need to be carried out, and all parents do that, but expecting quiet from a room full of little kids is both unrealistic and ridiculous.

So how do we welcome them? Second, we allow parents to make their own, individual parenting decisions. There is a culture in our church that adheres to certain rules, and sometimes parents who don't follow those rules can feel judged. For example, many LDS parents choose not to give their children any snacks or toys until after the administration of the sacrament, so around 20 minutes into the meeting. This is a perfectly fine policy for those who wish to follow it, but it isn't doctrine, and it isn't for everyone. I gave my kids food, books, paper, toys, jewelry, ANYTHING that would keep them happy from the second we sat down. Seventy minutes is a LONG time. I did my best, and I have no regrets. And yes, in their own time, each learned reverence for the sacrament. My youngest now blesses it every week, and often I am told how much people appreciate the sincere and reverent way in which he does it.

Accordingly, I have heard people advise parents that if they have to take their toddler or young child out of the meeting, they should be sure not to make it a pleasant experience in the foyer. "Be sure they don't have any fun out there, or they will always want to go out."  Again, this is fine for parents who believe this way, absolutely fine. But it wouldn't be my style, and that is okay too. I wanted my kids to like church. I wanted them to want to go. I wanted them to have fun there, and I knew that their age-appropriate behavior would mean that often, we would need to step out for while, so they could move their little bodies. I honestly have fond memories of some of these times: "I know it's hard to sit for so long. Let's take a break together." The bonds we created during those times continue even today, and my youngest is 16.

Whatever our parenting style, may we welcome the children for who they are, precious spirits of our Heavenly Parents, lent to us for such a short time. May we celebrate their voices! Their very presence is evidence of God's love.

Let us suffer the children, because as President Uchtdorf taught, "There is room for you [even the tiniest] in this church." 

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

The many forms of "you"

In our church, when people pray, it is common for them to use the words "thou, thee, and thy" to address deity, rather than "you or your." I suspect this is mostly the result of tradition; we've always done it that way. Which is just fine. What isn't fine is when we tell others they need to pray that way because it shows greater respect or reverence for God.

In reality, it's quite the opposite.

If you've ever studied a foreign language such as Spanish or French or German, you learned about the two different ways to say "you," either formal or familiar. The formal choice always shows greater respect and is used for people above you in station, or for people who are significantly older than you, or for those you don't know well. The familiar form is used for children, close friends, family, people you know well.

In Spanish, the formal form of "you" is "usted," and the familiar is "tu" In French, the formal is "vous," and the familiar (like Spanish) is "tĂș." In German, the formal form is "Sie" and the familiar "du."

But what about English? Currently, we don't make any distinction; we use "you" for everyone. But that wasn't always the case. Up until the 17th Century, English, like Spanish, French, and German, had two forms of its 2nd person pronoun. But guess what? "You and your" were the formal forms, while "thou, thee, and thy" were the familiar. Truth.

So when we use "thou, thee, and thy" to address our Heavenly Father, we are choosing the familiar form of the pronoun. It is not more respectful or more reverent. It is actually the casual, friendly, more intimate choice, the form we would use with someone we know very well.

Which is exactly why I like it and why I use it myself. Okay, and also probably because I've been a member of the Church for over 20 years, and I'm used to hearing it that way. But I really do like the familiar form to address God because when I use it, I feel like I am praying to someone I know well, someone who is literally my Father, my family. Also, as a literature major, I'm comfortable with 17th Century English.

However, not everyone likes to pray that way. Many prefer to use the same language they use in everyday life, rather than a form that hasn't been used in English for over 300 years. And they have every right to pray in whatever way is comfortable for them. I'm confident our Father in Heaven doesn't care in the least which form, formal or familiar, of the 2nd person pronoun we use when we address Him. He really just wants to hear from us. All over the scriptures, we are called to counsel with Him, to seek Him out at all times and in all situations. That is what matters.

So let's take care not to tell others that they need to say "thou and thee" when they pray because it's more reverent and respectful.

Cuz it isn't. It just isn't. 

Instead, let us encourage others to use whichever words they prefer, as they seek out our Father in Heaven in sincere prayer, whether privately or in a group setting.

May we welcome everyone (and everyone's prayers) because as President Uchtdorf taught, "There is room for you in this church."


Sunday, October 2, 2016

Hair

About 10 years ago, in our ward in Billings, Montana, the Young Men's organization had a fundraiser that involved hair cutting. They solicited donations from ward members in exchange for the boys getting their hair cut. I can't remember what the goal of the fundraising was, but I assume they were donating their proceeds to charity? Sorry, like I said, it was 10 years ago.

Isaiah and Eli were 15 and 13, respectively, at the time so both involved in this activity. It was voluntary. They didn't have to do it. But good sports that they were, both decided to jump in and raise money. We had a hairstylist in our ward, who volunteered her time to the cause. My feeling about the whole thing? Indifference. Because here's the thing about hair: It always grows back. So why not participate?

The hairstylist cut all the boys' hair in a similar style, short, like a traditional "missionary" cut. I winced a little as I watch my boys' beautiful hair fall to the ground, but quickly reminded myself of the above: Hair always grows back. When all the boys were finished, their Young Men's President exclaimed, "This is excellent! Now you boys look like the worthy Priesthood holders you are!"

Dang.

Let me just say that I really, really liked this guy. I still do, actually, though we moved from Montana five years ago, so I no longer have contact with him. He was a good guy and a dedicated leader, doing his best to serve well in his calling. But somewhere along the line, he had embraced an idea that tends to permeate through our Church, the idea that short hair is in some way better than long hair on boys and men, and further, that the clean-shaven look is better than facial hair. That somehow, boys and men with short hair and no beards are more righteous, more spiritual, more obedient, more worthy, and better equipped to exercise their Priesthood responsibilities.

My instant reaction was to jump up and disagree. I didn't. I was sitting by a friend, who also happened to have two boys in the program. She touched my arm and quietly said, "Relax. Breathe. It's okay." And it was. My boys weren't damaged in any way by their leader's remark, and I will ever be grateful to Lisa for her calming words.  However, it was important to me that my sons understood that this leader's opinion was not church doctrine. It was only his opinion. It was critical to me that they understood that their own father, who happened to have longish hair and a full beard, was in every way worthy, and no less righteous or spiritual or obedient or well equipped to hold the Priesthood than anyone else.

So I'll bet you can guess the topic of our conversation on the way home that night.

That was 10 years ago, and still, in 2016, this bias against long hair and beards persists. In a struggle to figure out why and where it originated, I've looked back to the history of the Church, combined with the culture of our country. My best guess is that in the turmoil of the 1960s, long hair and beards represented rebellion, the hippie movement, even the drug culture. Perhaps in order to oppose those elements, the Church moved in the opposite direction? David O. McKay was the first President of the Church to be clean-shaven, and yes, he was the Prophet all through the 60s until he died in 1970.

It's making more sense now. What I can't figure out is why this is still a "thing" today, a full 50 years later. Many Church members still feel that short hair and the clean-shaven look is best. And not just more attractive (because that is, of course, purely a matter of opinion), but honestly more righteous. I teach at a Church college, where beards and long hair on male students are prohibited, and "beard control" is hands down the most discussed honor code issue of all, even above things like honesty and plagiarism. It's definitely still a "thing."

I won't attempt to change the rules at the Church institutions, colleges, etc. I figure if you don't wish to follow the code, go to a different school. Two of my sons did exactly that. However, in our regular stakes and wards, we must work toward ending the bias that exists regarding this issue. How can we welcome others as the Savior would if we don't? There is absolutely nothing more righteous about a short haircut or a clean-shaven face. Absolutely nothing.

May we stop pretending there is because as President Uchtdorf taught: "There is room for you [everyone] in this Church."