I'm sitting in the part-time faculty office at the church college where I teach. I very rarely come in here; most days I arrive just in time for my classes, teach them, and leave. Today there is an important meeting for English faculty, and believe me, if it were not super important, I would not wait around for it. I'm pretty careful about my time. I am not a full-time employee. I do not not earn a full-time salary. This is my choice. I prefer to be primarily an at-home mom, and to teach a couple classes on the side.
But today's meeting is important. It involves a serious change in curriculum for English 101, a class I teach every semester. So I need to stay. I need to wait the 2.5 hours since my last class ended to attend the 90-minute training on this new curriculum, and I don't really mind because it happens so infrequently.
What I do mind is that it's cold outside, and I'm stuck here for 2.5 hours, and nowhere on this campus can I find a real Diet Coke. They have pretend Diet Coke (caffeine free) in the student cafe. It's awful. If you've never tried it, don't even bother. They have more pretend Diet Coke in the bookstore. But nowhere do they have the real thing.
Grrrrrr.
Why not? you may ask. Well there's this crazy belief that permeates LDS culture that caffeine is a violation of our church's health code called the "Word of Wisdom."
It isn't. Plain and simple. No discussion needed.
The Word of Wisdom includes many things people should take into their bodies in order to remain healthy physically and spiritually, along with a few things to avoid: hot drinks (interpreted to mean coffee and non-herbal tea), tobacco, and alcohol. That's it. Not a single word about caffeine.
Why, then, can't I find a real Diet Coke anywhere on campus? Apparently, this cultural myth is so pervasive that it has somehow influenced church policy, even in terms of what drinks are available on the campuses of church-sponsored colleges. We Mormons love our rules, but honestly, do we need to add additional ones that aren't even real?
And everyone seems to know it's not real. At any given time, you will find one employee or another from our school (teachers, support staff, even our dean) braving the windy cold, walking down the long Utah block and across the street to Crown Burger to get an honest Diet Coke.
Let's end the craziness of "rules" that aren't even rules, so others will feel welcome. Because as President Uchtdorf said, "There is room for you in this church."
Meanwhile, I'm off to Crown Burger.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
",,,our leaders were mighty men of faith..." (Jarom 1:7)
My children, as they've grown up in the Church, have had many leaders. They have been served by primary teachers, youth leaders, Sunday School and seminary teachers, along with numerous bishopric members. And mostly, it's been good. There are tiny exceptions, where a particular leader has made one of them feel unwelcome or not good enough. I grieve those moments because oh how I want all my children to feel welcome in the Church. The teen years are tumultuous enough; the Church should be a place of refuge from the storm, a source of strength and sustenance for our cherished youth.
Allow me to share a story about a leader who taught the important lesson of welcoming people in love, rather than shunning them in judgment.
I won't share his name, in case he prefers anonymity out on the Web, but he was our stake president the seven years we lived in Billings. I'll call him President G. One year, Eli came home from Youth Standards Night with a lesson he will never forget. When he entered the chapel, he was surprised to see three young men in attendance, wearing jeans and t-shirts, sitting up toward the front. "Not gonna lie, Mom. I judged them. 'Why are they dressed like that?' I thought to myself. 'It's standards night; don't they know they're supposed to wear church clothes?'"
At some point during the meeting, President G. called these boys up to the front and asked the congregation, "How many of you judged these guys because of their clothes, rather than simply welcoming them and being grateful they were here?" Lot of nods and whispers. He then explained that he staged this whole thing. He called these three (and their parents) ahead of time and asked them to come dressed like that and to sit where everyone could see them. He wanted to teach the importance of welcoming: "We don't know others' circumstances. We don't know their stories. We are to love them, welcome them, and withhold judgment."
Oooh, President G., I did not know you well at that time. Other than spending a few minutes with you when you set Luke apart for his mission, I had never really spoken to you before. But you won my heart over that night. Is it any wonder you would later be called to serve as a mission president, to guide and nurture countless young elders and sisters at a pivotal point in their lives? What lucky missionaries!
With few exceptions, my kids have had great leaders. President G. was just one. Today, Seth has diligent Sunday School teachers who work hard to bring the light of the Gospel to their students each week. He has a dedicated seminary teacher who offers respite in his day from the R-rated movie that is high school---I was there at dismissal time one day last week and heard the F-bomb shouted at least six times in the five minutes it took me to walk from the front door to the office. And he has the most crazy awesome Young Men's President ever, who makes him laugh all the time from the constant goofiness, all the while demonstrating a living testimony of his commitment to the Savior and his Church. I could ask for nothing more.
"... our leaders were mighty men of faith..." (Jarom 1:7).
Indeed.
May we follow the example of President G. and welcome our youth. No matter what. We can't afford to do otherwise. We can't afford to lose them.
As President Uchtdorf taught, "There is room for you [including hormone-raging, sometimes moody, unpredictable teenagers] in this church."
Allow me to share a story about a leader who taught the important lesson of welcoming people in love, rather than shunning them in judgment.
I won't share his name, in case he prefers anonymity out on the Web, but he was our stake president the seven years we lived in Billings. I'll call him President G. One year, Eli came home from Youth Standards Night with a lesson he will never forget. When he entered the chapel, he was surprised to see three young men in attendance, wearing jeans and t-shirts, sitting up toward the front. "Not gonna lie, Mom. I judged them. 'Why are they dressed like that?' I thought to myself. 'It's standards night; don't they know they're supposed to wear church clothes?'"
At some point during the meeting, President G. called these boys up to the front and asked the congregation, "How many of you judged these guys because of their clothes, rather than simply welcoming them and being grateful they were here?" Lot of nods and whispers. He then explained that he staged this whole thing. He called these three (and their parents) ahead of time and asked them to come dressed like that and to sit where everyone could see them. He wanted to teach the importance of welcoming: "We don't know others' circumstances. We don't know their stories. We are to love them, welcome them, and withhold judgment."
Oooh, President G., I did not know you well at that time. Other than spending a few minutes with you when you set Luke apart for his mission, I had never really spoken to you before. But you won my heart over that night. Is it any wonder you would later be called to serve as a mission president, to guide and nurture countless young elders and sisters at a pivotal point in their lives? What lucky missionaries!
With few exceptions, my kids have had great leaders. President G. was just one. Today, Seth has diligent Sunday School teachers who work hard to bring the light of the Gospel to their students each week. He has a dedicated seminary teacher who offers respite in his day from the R-rated movie that is high school---I was there at dismissal time one day last week and heard the F-bomb shouted at least six times in the five minutes it took me to walk from the front door to the office. And he has the most crazy awesome Young Men's President ever, who makes him laugh all the time from the constant goofiness, all the while demonstrating a living testimony of his commitment to the Savior and his Church. I could ask for nothing more.
"... our leaders were mighty men of faith..." (Jarom 1:7).
Indeed.
May we follow the example of President G. and welcome our youth. No matter what. We can't afford to do otherwise. We can't afford to lose them.
As President Uchtdorf taught, "There is room for you [including hormone-raging, sometimes moody, unpredictable teenagers] in this church."
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