Here’s how the bedtime ritual usually goes at my house. After baths are finished, hair is combed and teeth are brushed, my family gathers for evening prayers. Each of my daughters takes a turn, with the oldest (7 years old) usually volunteering to go first. Without fail, her short prayers contain the following elements: (i) expressions of gratitude for “this day” and “our friends,” (ii) a request for a blessing that she have a “good night’s sleep,” (iii) a request that the Lord help us “find a new house” (we’re house hunting at the moment), and (iv) pleading that she and her sisters finally get a dog (FWIW — no deity is powerful enough to make me want a dog). Then strategy kicks in . . .
Many Church members consider Johnny Lingo to be the zenith of kitschy Mormon culture (for the uninitiated, you can seeithere). When I was at BYU 15 years ago, I often ran into “wild and crazy” RMs sporting “Mahana, You Ugly” or “Wanted: Eight-Cow Woman” T-shirts. But for me, while Brother Lingo and his island crew hold a special place in my heart — along with that kid from the “Cipher in the Snow” — they pale in comparison to the granddaddy of all Mormon cheese: Saturday’s Warrior. For the sake of brevity, I will refrain from a detailed plot description; suffice it to say, it’s a dramedy about a young man’s struggle with temptation, that features wild-eyed teenaged representatives from the local chapter of the “Zero Population” movement, a wheelchair-bound dancer, an extended mediation on the size of the father’s nose, dozens of “friends,” and the most devastating “Dear John” letter ever written. It’s quite a ride!
For me, what sets “Saturday’s Warrior” apart from other Mormon entertainment is that, for better or worse, it has spawned several quasi-doctrinal ideas that still hold sway today. “Johnny Lingo,” “My Turn on Earth,” “It’s A Miracle” — they all preached generalized Christian messages, such as treat others kindly, don’t judge a book by its cover, etc. Only “Warrior” had the chutzpah to craft its own unique theology, courtesy of the Flinders clan.
Unfortunately, a confluence of factors — vacation, increased tasks at work trying to make up for said vacation, shuttling daughters to and from various summer activities — has kept me out of the Mormon Matters community over the past few weeks. This isn’t the first time this sort of thing has happened to me. In every long-distance friendship, I’m the one who forgets to make the phone call, who doesn’t return the e-mail, and who eventually drops out of communication altogether, leaving the other party to the friendship wondering, “I wonder what happened to that dude.” Long story, short: don’t take it personally, friends. It’s me, not you
Predictably, in my absence (which has been both busy and enjoyable), I have found myself missing our on-line conversation. Not so predictably, however. this feeling has led me to think quite a bit about (1) what keeps me coming back to MM and, more generally, to the Bloggernacle, and (2) what have I gained as a result of my participation. The first question is easy to answer — it’s the intellectual, emotional and, yes, spiritual stimulation I receive from the discussion. The second question, however, stuck in craw my quite some time. But, after much consideration, it boils to a simple, one-word answer . . .
Tired of talking about gay marriage? How about women and the Priesthood?
In all seriousness, let me share with you a recent experience that has had a profound impact on the way I view the concept of Priesthood, and that has convinced me, once and for all, that I am not the sole Priesthood bearer in my family. I believe it’s high time we recognized the service rendered by faithful LDS women as more than simply the fulfillment of a Relief Society assignment, or being a good visiting teacher. Such efforts constitute the righteous exercise of Priesthood power.
Perhaps our feelings about tomorrow’s letter were abreacted in last week’s multifarious and sporadically acerbic discussion.My purpose here is to highlight some of the feelings and perspective of one who is connected to many aspects of the Church’s political action regarding gay marriage.My sister Emily is a lawyer in California, and gay (also kind, witty, and sagacious, but that is beside the point). Her journey through life has had a positive and profound impact on my family and I. I have learned a lot from her, but this issue specifically has inspired me to be more thoughtful and considerate of those who are different from my straight white male middle-class American self (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
In a previous post, I explored the idea of defining “political” vs. “moral” issues for purposes of deciding when (and how) the Church should get formally involved. A related issue is whether we, even without formal instruction from the Church, are obligated to cast certain, pre-determined votes on select issues.Put another way, does my Mormonism require me to vote in favor of all manner of local referendum banning homosexual marriage?If so, how far does this unwritten rule go? And what about my free agency?
Unless your last name is Van Winkle, you likely already know that, yesterday afternoon, the California Supreme Court concluded that the state’s law prohibiting same-sex marriage (SSM, for short) is unconstitutional. Put more simply, in 30 days, SSM will be a reality in California. For those of us here on the Left Coast, things are about to get very interesting. Within hours of the ruling, Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, without a hint of irony, told a gathering of reporters: “I plan to marry as many people as I can.”
Like many others, I’m still working my way through the 100+ page opinion. We lawyers sure love our footnotes, and one in particular has got me thinking. To be clear, I am no fundamentalist Mormon, and I certainly am not bucking for the opportunity to bring another set of problems wife into my happy family. But I can’t help but be annoyed by the apparent fact that, over a century later, courts are still content to rely on outdated and prejudicial attitudes towards Mormon polygamy.
As Mormons, we are constantly taught and reminded that obedience brings happiness. So what are we to conclude when we’re obedient but still aren’t happy?
The general election is looming, which means that soon, we here in the U.S. will be hearing an official First Presidency statement in our wards regarding the Church’s political neutrality. You’ve heard the mantra before: the Church does not get involved in political issues, but it does take a stand on moral questions. Despite its seeming simplicity, this statement raises a host of unanswered questions regarding the wisdom of Church involvement in domestic political movements, and its seeming unwillingness to get involved in issues affecting Saints in other parts of the world.
When I was a child, I spake as a child,
I understood as a child, I thought as a child:
but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
(1 Cor. 13:11.)
As I’ve grown older, the things I’ve unlearned about God are just as significant to me as the things I’ve learned about Him. In fact, the God I believed in as a child is almost unrecognizable to me now.
What do Mormons and Muslims have in common? A lot more than you might think. And a popular sitcom about Muslims living in a small Canadian prairie town offers Mormons good suggestions about how best to handle being misunderstood and sometimes mistreated by the “outside world”.
If you spend any time here in the Bloggernacle, or leafing through the pages of any number of “alternate voices,” you are bound to encounter Eugene England. A founder of Dialogue, England — a former Bishop, LDS missionary, and BYU Professor — is a patron saint of the Mormon intellectual community, oft-revered as “our greatest essayist.” But for all of our lip service, we — as a Church and as an Internet community — could still learn a thing or two by actually putting his more challenging philosophies into practice.
Look up there . . . . who’s that emceeing the Ward Roadshow? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s the Mormon Answer Man!! Faster than a missionary speeding downhill towards a dinner appointment. Able to pull three heavy-laden handcarts at a time. Behold his breath-taking adventures after the jump, if you dare . . .
In my last post, I noted that something peculiar is going on when it comes to Utah’s depression numbers. Utah has the highest percentage of population reporting depression, and oddly, Utah’s depression numbers can’t seem to be explained by several correlations that tend to explain depression numbers in other states. That suggests to me that Utah’s higher depression numbers are caused by something peculiar to Utah. In this post, I take a look at three peculiar theories about what’s behind Utah’s depression numbers, which I like to call the “Shrunken Gene Pool Theory,” the “Lack of Alcoholic Self-Medication Theory,” and “Too Many Toddlers Syndrome.”
A recent news article cites a study that portrays Utah as the most depressed state in the U.S. The article suggests Mormon culture is at least partly to blame for Utahns’ depression, and features photos of a pill bottle and a depressed-looking woman superimposed over the Salt Lake temple.
It’s been a few months since I first came out to my family and friends. I’d been living a secret double life for too long, and I couldn’t stand the duplicity any longer. As I’ve continued to come out to more friends, I’ve learned I have to be careful and selective about when and to whom I reveal my secret. It makes some people feel awkward and uncomfortable when I tell them about it; others don’t know what to say and simply stare at the ground or abruptly change the subject.
Here’s how the bedtime ritual usually goes at my house. After baths are finished, hair is combed and teeth are brushed, my family gathers for evening prayers. Each of my daughters takes a turn, with the oldest (7 years old) usually volunteering to go first. Without fail, her short prayers contain the following elements: (i) expressions of gratitude for “this day” and “our friends,” (ii) a request for a blessing that she have a “good night’s sleep,” (iii) a request that the Lord help us “find a new house” (we’re house hunting at the moment), and (iv) pleading that she and her sisters finally get a dog (FWIW — no deity is powerful enough to make me want a dog). Then strategy kicks in . . .
When I was a child, I spake as a child,
Look up there . . . . who’s that emceeing the Ward Roadshow? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s the Mormon Answer Man!! Faster than a missionary speeding downhill towards a dinner appointment. Able to pull three heavy-laden handcarts at a time. Behold his breath-taking adventures after the jump, if you dare . . .
In my 
A recent 
