Temple Redemption
I haven't written on here for over a year, but when I heard about the changes made to the temple ceremonies, I think I went into a little bit of shock. When I heard the news, my brain got all fuzzy and I couldn't think straight, for a while I felt kind of disembodied. I thought these changes would take decades to happen, at least. I imagine it might be a little bit like what it felt like for women to finally be able to vote, or for black people to be able to be endowed and receive the priesthood. This blog was where I spent years struggling through these issues. This was where I had to go to process the news.
I was endowed in 2007. I spent twelve years feeling varying degrees of pain, confusion, degradation, sorrow, fear, and immense pressure because of the wording of the temple ceremonies. I went through intense psychological, spiritual, and emotional turmoil and upheaval because of the gender disparity there. I made deep and possibly irrevocable changes to my worldview, my lifestyle, the way I interact with everyone in my life, in large part because of the journey that began with my experience in the temple.
I went into it with perfect hope, perfect faith, perfect knowledge of the love that God had for me. And I had my heart broken. I spent the greater part of a decade desperately clinging to the shattered splinters of my testimony while blood ran down my wrists and I finally had to let go when I realized that hanging on was doing me more harm than good.
I screamed into eternity, "THIS IS NOT TRUE." And God answered, "I know."
This struggle has changed my relationships with the people I love most in the world; it has changed my relationship with the world. It has led me on a spiritual journey to places I would never have had the courage to go to otherwise. It led me to better learn what I believe and to trust myself. And now, the impetus, that force of nature in my life, is gone.
Over.
Done.
I win?
I have no idea how to feel about these changes. Other than relief and joy that another generation of Mormon women won't have to go through the pain that I went through. Won't have to make the decision to hush their confusion and pain in favor of holding on to what is good there, to brace themselves for the next insult in the ceremony while repeating to themselves how it's worth it, reminding themselves that Jesus loves them, and that somehow, it must be alright. I'm thrilled that women will be able to go to the temple and have a positive, loving experience in the house of the Lord without any "except-for-that-one-part"s.
But for me? For my beliefs? Can I go back to who I was eleven years ago? Can I un-feel and un-experience and unlearn all of that? Do I want to? Are the centuries of sexism in the church all just okay now? If the prophet wasn't the prophet 2 days ago, can he be the prophet today?
I still can't hold my baby while it's blessed. I still wouldn't be asked to hold a position of administrative authority that isn't overseen by a man. But still I can't deny that for me, this is mountain moving, earth shifting. I don't know that I will ever again believe that the LDS church is the one true church, but it's certainly truer today than it was before.
I was endowed in 2007. I spent twelve years feeling varying degrees of pain, confusion, degradation, sorrow, fear, and immense pressure because of the wording of the temple ceremonies. I went through intense psychological, spiritual, and emotional turmoil and upheaval because of the gender disparity there. I made deep and possibly irrevocable changes to my worldview, my lifestyle, the way I interact with everyone in my life, in large part because of the journey that began with my experience in the temple.
I went into it with perfect hope, perfect faith, perfect knowledge of the love that God had for me. And I had my heart broken. I spent the greater part of a decade desperately clinging to the shattered splinters of my testimony while blood ran down my wrists and I finally had to let go when I realized that hanging on was doing me more harm than good.
I screamed into eternity, "THIS IS NOT TRUE." And God answered, "I know."
This struggle has changed my relationships with the people I love most in the world; it has changed my relationship with the world. It has led me on a spiritual journey to places I would never have had the courage to go to otherwise. It led me to better learn what I believe and to trust myself. And now, the impetus, that force of nature in my life, is gone.
Over.
Done.
I win?
I have no idea how to feel about these changes. Other than relief and joy that another generation of Mormon women won't have to go through the pain that I went through. Won't have to make the decision to hush their confusion and pain in favor of holding on to what is good there, to brace themselves for the next insult in the ceremony while repeating to themselves how it's worth it, reminding themselves that Jesus loves them, and that somehow, it must be alright. I'm thrilled that women will be able to go to the temple and have a positive, loving experience in the house of the Lord without any "except-for-that-one-part"s.
But for me? For my beliefs? Can I go back to who I was eleven years ago? Can I un-feel and un-experience and unlearn all of that? Do I want to? Are the centuries of sexism in the church all just okay now? If the prophet wasn't the prophet 2 days ago, can he be the prophet today?
I still can't hold my baby while it's blessed. I still wouldn't be asked to hold a position of administrative authority that isn't overseen by a man. But still I can't deny that for me, this is mountain moving, earth shifting. I don't know that I will ever again believe that the LDS church is the one true church, but it's certainly truer today than it was before.
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