In this podcast, Mormon Matters host Dan Wotherspoon and panelists Chelsea Robarge Fife, Chelsea Shields Strayer, and Carol Lynn Pearson reflect on ways to help mitigate this idea of waiting to be directed and to instead act in ways that model love, build trust, and effectively bring about positive shifts in LDS culture, emphases, and beyond. In this far-ranging discussion, they discuss tips and share stories, successes, and failures in their lives as change agents. What are the secrets to the kind of confidence they have that it is their right, and even duty, to work for greater tolerance and awareness, and less harm?

We invite you to share your own stories, best practices, fears, or whatever else you’d care to share in the comments section below.

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Links to supplemental reading and listening:

Item on Carol Lynn Pearson’s website about work going on in the Oakland California Stake toward better understanding and loving our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters.

Carol Lynn Pearson’s “A Walk in Pink Moccasins” 

Patheos podcast, The Round Table, featuring Chelsea Shields Strayer and heads of other LDS women’s organizations and blogs.

Armand Mauss essay, “Alternate Voices: The Calling and Its Implications.” Classic Sunstone essay reflecting on finding a comfortable niche in Mormonism as an “alternate voice.” Includes his “decalogue for dissenters,” ten commandments (tips) for both surviving and being effective outside the LDS mainstream.

In this two-episode discussion–the questions, ideas, and opinions were too big for just one!–Mormon Matters host Dan Wotherspoon and panelists Jared Anderson, Greg Rockwell, and KC Kern engage in a far-ranging and sometimes quite intense discussion about happiness in its theoretical and scientific glory, as well as in the more personal push and pull of the panelists’ interactions with Mormonism. These episodes present a lot to chew on, and the panelists each represent four distinct personalities and ways of engaging the church and LDS community in their own pursuits of happiness. But in the end, the only thing that is clear is that happiness is a huge puzzle that all of us must put together for ourselves.

Episode 67 contains the more theoretical portion of the discussions of happiness, what is being shown by scientific and sociological studies, as well as the key role of temperament in someone’s perception of their happiness (and especially as it might relate to spirituality and comfort within institutions that have the capacity to be all-encompassing if one lets them).

Episode 68 features the panelists personal stories and takes on Mormon-specific questions and how they pursue their happiness outside or inside the LDS church through their different ways of relating to it in their own journeys toward joy.

Even at 3-plus hours when you add up both parts, there is still much more to say and wrestle with, so we very much hope you’ll listen and engage in the discussion below!

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Links to interesting things that informed much of the general discussion:

Daniel Kahneman, “The Riddle of Experience Vs. Memory” (TED talk)

Dan Gilbert, “Why Are We Happy?” (TED talk)

Barry Schwartz, “The Paradox of Choice” (TED talk)

Paul Zak: “Trust, Morality–and Oxytocin” (TED talk)

Dan Ariely, “Are We in Control of Our Own Decisions?” (TED talk)

“Pursuing Happiness.” (On Being episode). Discussion of happiness hosted by Krista Tippett and featuring His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Seyyed Hossein Nasr (Muslim scholar), Bishop Katharin Jefferts Schori (Episcopal Church), and Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks (Jewish leader in the U.K.).

Andrew Weil: “Spontaneous Happiness: Our Nature-Deficit Disorder” (originally in Newsweek)

On Iron Rod and Liahona Temperaments

Richard D. Poll, “What the Gospel Means to People Like Me” (Sermon printed in Dialogue in which he introduces the idea of two LDS temperaments: Iron Rods and Liahonas)

Harold B. Lee, “The Iron Rod” (April 1971 General Conference address in which he seems to directly criticize ideas in the Poll talk:  “Do the revelations of God give us a handrail to the kingdom of God, as the Lord’s messenger told Lehi, or merely a compass?”)

Richard D. Poll, “Liahona and Iron Rod Revisited” (Remarks published in Dialogue in 1983 in which Poll assesses the impact of his categories in Mormon discussion, as well as  how they seemed to be playing out in the church at that time)

Mormon Matters host, Dan Wotherspoon, first interviews Sister Aileen Clyde, who served from 1990 to 1997 as a fellow counselor with Sister Okazaki in the Relief Society general presidency under the leadership of President Elaine Jack. He then speaks with Margaret Young and Darius Gray, two of Elder Hanks’ close associates. We very much hope you will enjoy getting to know more about each of these incredible souls—Sister Okazaki and Elder Hanks, as well as the great spirits of those interviewed here.

Please join in the conversation by sharing your own reflections on these leaders. How have they affected your life for the better? What teachings or qualities will you remember most about them?

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• The unrepentant sinners & the unconverted.  The rebellious.  There are stories of missionaries who went out because they were essentially bribed with a promised car or job because parents hoped that a mission would “clean them up” or get them back on track from their wayward existence.  Anyone who served a mission before the change (like I did) probably knew a few of these guys.  If this group used to make up about 3% of the mission population, it has now been eliminated.  These guys were probably pretty independent and resilient; cars and jobs are powerful motivators.  Of course, the ones I knew were mostly self-serving jerks and not very good missionaries unless their acts did in fact get cleaned up on the course of their missions.
• The repentant sinners.  In E. Ballard’s original address on Raising the Bar, he said, “The day of the ‘repent and go’ missionary is over.”  Eliminating these from the pool probably has some preventive value (shame avoidance is a powerful motivator).  My guess is that this used to be a pretty high percentage of missionaries – maybe as high as 25%.  Or else I was just in a unique mission.

 Although we’ve all heard great stories of hardened sinners who found their souls while serving a mission, I think we can all agree that might not be the best method of conversion.  But losing the repentant sinners feels like a loss on a few fronts:  1) everyone is a sinner, and demarking between degrees of sin doesn’t feel quite right to me, 2) I disagree with the implication that they are more likely to slip into those same sins again on their mission (at least that’s not what I saw), 3) who better than the repentant sinner to relate to potential converts, and 4) they are far more likely to have the life experience needed to live independently without going off the deep end.

 In practice, if not based on the actual instructions to “raise the bar,” who was left in?

• The worthy.  Candidates who had no serious (confession-worthy) sins in their past to repent.  This group is the long-standing majority of missionaries both before and after the change.  I’m going to estimate this constituted 60% before the change, which would put it at 83% after the change.  If the goal was a higher percentage “worthy” missionaries, mission accomplished.
• The sheltered.  Children of helicopter parents.  These are the missionaries who have never lived away from home, don’t know how to cook, clean or care for themselves if they get sick, and haven’t had much experience dealing with people (e.g. a companion) outside their own family.  I’d ballpark this at 3% of the mission force before the change, but with the change, that boosts it to more like 4.2%.  These guys seem slightly higher risk for not making it through a mission.
• The mentally unstable.  It’s not a sin to have a mental illness, and depending on the mental illness and its treatment or lack thereof, it can prevent one from making missteps that would lead to a repentance issue.  However, this same issue could create problems for the missionary, out on his or her own, trying to cope with the stresses of a mission while also coping a mental issue.  Before the change, I would have ballparked this at 1% of missionaries, but with the change, this moves to 1.4%.  This group should be shrinking, but according to a SLTrib article, it may go unreported due to the stigma of not serving.
• Those with health issues.  Again, not a worthiness issue at all, but this can impact someone’s ability to complete their mission, especially if they are in an area with unfamiliar climates, foods, exposure to other ailments, and different doctor care.  I would have ballparked this one for my pre-bar-raised mission at about 3%, and based on these estimates, probably 4.2% now.
• The socially isolated.  Those that couldn’t get a date, much less commit sexual sin.  Poor social skills.  Possibly poor hygiene.  Could include extreme introverts.  OK, there’s a reason missionaries are occasionally mocked for their dorkiness.  I would have pegged this at about 5% of missionaries before the change.  With the change (if my original estimates are anywhere near right), that moves this to 6.9%.

In a talk by L. Tom Perry in the 2007 November Ensign, he said:  “Full-time missionary service is a privilege for those who are called through inspiration by the President of the Church. Bishops and stake presidents have the serious responsibility to identify worthy, qualified members who are spiritually, physically, and emotionally prepared for this sacred service and who can be recommended without reservation. Those individuals not able to meet the physical, mental, and emotional demands of full-time missionary work are honorably excused and should not be recommended. They may be called to serve in other rewarding capacities.“

• Stigma of not serving.  It seems that this idea of honorably excusing those who are not fully prepared is not well understood.  Someone who is unprepared emotionally, physically or spiritually is considered damaged goods by the lay membership.  Average members often still consider those who don’t serve a mission as unworthy, regardless the reason, not as “honorably excused.”
• Reluctance of local leaders to offend.  In some of these cases, a local leader determining that a young man or woman is not ready to serve a mission is an indictment of members’ parenting skills or social skills of the candidate.  This can result in hurt feelings and drive people away who are asking to serve.
• Lack of self-awareness.  Self-reported social, physical and emotional readiness may be unreliable, especially for young people with little exposure outside their family circle.
• No external assessment.  We determine worthiness based on the interview questions, mostly related to confessable sins.  But we don’t consistently apply as much scrutiny to issues that are in fact less reliant on self-reporting errors:  physical health and mental wellness. Both of these could be assessed in a clear manner through professional instruments and interviews with health care professionals.

What could we do differently?  Here are some suggestions (some of which are doubtless being done to varying extents):

1. Quit babying the youth.  YW and YM leaders should treat the youth who lead the quorums and YW groups to lead those groups, giving them clear opportunities to organize, lead, and instruct others.  Parents should push their kids to take on more reponsibility, not less.
2. Mainstream viable mission alternatives that are viewed as equal, non-token assignment with no associated stigma.  These can’t be populated with just those who are physically or mentally unable to serve a proselyting mission, or the stigma remains.
3. Require some minimum time living independently prior to serving (not just in dorms which often act as substitute parents).  This one might be a problem for those who don’t have the financial means to make it a reality, but there is something to be said for having to cook your own Ramen noodles and wash your own clothes regularly while living with people who aren’t related to you.  Perhaps serving “temporary” field missions would be a good approach; this was done with young members who were not yet old enough to serve missions when I was on my mission.
4. Provide better instruction on mission preparation that includes social skills (a bit tough to assess), emotional resilience, independence, and so forth.  Use external assessments to assist local leadership in good decision making.
5. Ensure better balance in considering all requirements:  social skills, emotional resilience, physical health, and worthiness / repentance.  Allow the repentant to serve, provided they are clearly ready in all areas, including the spiritual.  Technically, the guidelines do allow for this, but the wording of the original talk and instruction was so direct that there seems to be a reluctance to allow for it among local leaders.

Others have blogged on this topic here (friendly) and here (hater).

Have we lost something by preventing the repentant from going?  Or should we cut further to eliminate those who are socially unprepared or coping with mental or other health issues?  What are your experiences?  Do you disagree with my guesses at percentages above?  Do you have any great stories (who doesn’t) about the unconverted, the socially awkward, or the rest?

Discuss.

http://library.lds.org/nxt/gateway.dll/Curriculum/music.htm/hymns.htm/prayer%20and%20supplication.htm/114%20come%20unto%20him.htm#JD_Hymns.114

and the music (written by Hugh W. Dougall, 1872-1963):

http://www.lds.org/churchmusic/detailmu … seqend=ZZZ

The scriptures cited in the hymnbook are Psalm 55:16–17, 22 and Matthew 11:28–30—both of which are beautiful scriptures that talk about coming unto Christ. 

The third verse mentions three kinds of people who could benefit from coming unto Christ—the depressed, the erring, and the weary.  I feel weary lots of times in terms of my relationship with the church.  I have allowed those feelings to impact my feelings about both God and Christ, which I regret and would like to change.  In thinking about this hymn, I came across a speech that Elder Holland gave at BYU about coming unto Christ (http://speeches.byu.edu/reader/reader.php?id=2912).  There are some things in it that I don’t like or am not sure about – the belief that Christ is the “only way” to achieve happiness/eternal life/whatever.  I know that this is a basic premise of Mormonism and of Christianity in general and as I’m typing this, I realize that I may be farther “out” than I am willing to admit.  However, there is much about this central message of Christianity that I like.

Elder Holland said:  “On the example of the Savior himself and his call to his apostles, and with the need for peace and comfort ringing in our ears, I ask you to be a healer, be a helper, be someone who joins in the work of Christ in lifting burdens, in making the load lighter, in making things better.   Isn’t that the phrase we used to use as children when we had a bump or a bruise? Didn’t we say to Mom or Dad, “Make it better.” Well, lots of people on your right hand and on your left are carrying bumps and bruises that they hope will be healed and made whole. Someone sitting within reasonable proximity to you tonight is carrying a spiritual or physical or emotional burden of some sort or some other affliction drawn from life’s catalog of a thousand kinds of sorrow. In the spirit of Christ’s first invitation to Philip and Andrew and then to Peter and the whole of his twelve apostles, jump into this work. Help people. Heal old wounds and try to make things better.”

Holland concludes by saying that Christ “wishes us to come unto him, to follow him, to be comforted by him. Then he wishes us to give comfort to others.”  That’s the central premise of this hymn, I think.  Or at least that’s the take-away message for me.  We’re supposed to do for others what Christ says he will do for us—help us, comfort us, pay attention to us, listen to us, serve us.  Regardless of my questions/confusions/doubts about “the church” and “the gospel,” this is clearly something I can do, both for myself and for others.

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.

Over the past year or so, some of our closest friends — Lori (not her real name) and her husband — have been struggling with marital difficulties. Since we live close (and are in the same ward), Lori and my wife talk often. My wife, the daughter of a school psychiatrist, has listened to Lori and, where appropriate, offered advice. The situation, however, continued to deteriorate.

One Sunday afternoon as my family was sitting down to dinner, the phone rang. I just happened to be the one who picked it up and said, “hello.” All I heard in response was a woman’s heavy sobbing, through which I could barely discern fumbling attempts to speak. The caller was hyperventilating, so it took her a few tries to get out my name. “Sh-Shawn, can you come over here now?” It was Lori, and it was obvious she was in distress. So, I did what anyone else would do — I told my wife I would be home soon, then immediately got in the car and drove over. When I arrived, I found Lori and her children huddled together on the living room couch, all in hysterics. I soon discovered that only minutes before I got there (and only seconds before the phone call), Lori and her husband had had a particularly nasty fight that resulted in his packing up, walking out, and saying he was gone for good.

Once inside the house, it was clear that I was I out of my depth. I’m an employment lawyer, not a family counselor. Faced with a room full of crying women and girls, all of whom were suffering real emotional trauma, I had absolutely no idea what to do but give hugs and offer some mewling words of encouragement. Then my instincts kicked in — I called my wife and told her get over there on the double. Of course, she agreed to be there as soon as she could get someone to stay with our daughters.

Immediately after I hung up the phone with her, I called our Bishop. He was there in a matter of minutes (just enough time to put on a tie and drive over, I’ll bet). He’s a great Bishop and had been working with Lori, in particular, for some time on trying to keep her family together through a very rough patch. To my great surprise, however, his reaction to the situation was not much different than mine. He, too, had that “deer in the headlights” look on this face and, while his words of comfort were a bit more eloquent than mine, they didn’ t seem to be having much more impact.

Then my wife walked in and took over. Within seconds, the Bishop and I were relegated to (our rightful place at) the other end of the couch. She gave the kids a squeeze, wrapped Lori in her arms, and proceeded to offer some very wise words based on her ongoing involvement with the situation. I’m not exaggerating when I say that, over the course of the next hour, the mood noticeably changed from despair to hope. My wife identified potential lights at the end of the family’s very dark tunnel, and helped them to find the physical, spiritual and emotional strength to press forward. Before we left, Lori asked that the Bishop and I give her children blessings. We did, while my wife sat silent with her arms neatly folded.  We were stuck.

As I have pondered this experience over the past several months, it has become clear to me that my wife did much more that afternoon than simply offer sisterly counsel to a friend. She was exercising her Preisthood to serve someone desperately in need.   Using that power and her accompanying gift of discernment, she was able to able help a family in ways that I and our ecclesiastical leader simply could not.

Before going any further, let me say that I don’t have the stomach for yet another long-winded (and assuredly acrimonious) debate about whether, and to what extent, LDS women hold the Priesthood, and whether they should be included in ecclesiastical leadership positions.  Such posts are legion on the Bloggernacle, and I have nothing new to add on the subject here.  My opinion, for better or worse, is that by virtue of their temple endowment, women receive at least some modicum of the power we refer to as Priesthood.  It is that Priesthood that my wife and other faithful LDS women exercise on a daily basis through their service.

When we talk about Priesthood, we often place far too much emphasis on the administration of ordinances, such as the blessing of babies, the laying on of hands, etc.  Clearly in today’s Church, women do not “exercise Priesthood” by participating such rituals.  However, I believe the Priesthood to be a much broader, and at the same time a much simpler, concept.  If Priesthood is the power to act in God’s name here on this Earth, as we teach, it cannot be limited to ordinances — God certainly has much more in store for us than going around laying hands on one another.   Instead, as our leaders have instructed, Priesthood power truly manifests itself in the rendering of what Spencer W. Kimball referred to as “selfless service.”   If this is the case, then endowed women have equal claim to Priesthood as their ordained male counterparts.   Godly service is godly service, no matter the sex of the provider.

We often speak of the “compassionate service” offered by women in the Church as something other than the Priesthood, i.e., as an auxiliary of, or support to, the Priesthood held by men. This distinction does not make sense to me.  Why does an afternoon spent by Deacons digging up Old Lady Smith’s weeds qualify as “Priesthood service,” while delivering meals to new mothers does not?  Similarly, for many men, and most certainly for up-and-coming Aaronic Priesthood holders, the very ideal of Priesthood service is honorably serving a full-time mission.  Adding up all of the baptisms, confirmations, blessings and grave dedications I performed, only a fraction of my two years in Guatemala were spent actually administering Priesthood ordinances.  By contrast, the vast majority of my time was spent serving others in all manner of ways, including formal service projects (i.e., hours spent at the hospital), informal service to those in need (i.e., visiting a sick member or investigator), and simply trying to share the Gospel with others, which arguably is the highest act of service possible.  But for the infrequent ordinances, women missionaries render these exact same types of service in exactly the same way; there is no gender differentiation.   If that is the case, why should my mission be deemed ”Priesthood service” status, if the work of valiant female missionaries is relegated to some lesser status?

All of this has opened me up to a new understanding of what it means to hold and use the Priesthood.  To believe that women can be Priesthood bearers, I need not accept the notion that women should be Bishops (that’s a different can of worms).  Rather, I recognize the efforts my wife makes as something more than mere acts of thoughtfulness.  I see them for what they are:  the proper exercise of her Priesthood power.  Put another way, the fact that my wife did not actually lay hands on Lori’s children does not mean that she is without Priesthood.  Rather, working together on an equal plane –with me administering a blessing and her comforting the family — we made a great team (a quorum of two?), using our individual abilities to achieve a common goal.   And isn’t that the ideal for an eternal family (think back to the words used in the Endowment and sealing ceremonies)?

So, with that in mind, let me proudly echo the sentiment I hear expressed in testimony meeting exclusively by wives and mothers:  I am very thankful to be married to a worthy Priesthood holder.