On the Porch Steps

I told the Primary President in my ward that I wouldn’t be available to teach the 3-year-olds (the “Sunbeams”) next year. It was in many ways a typical Mormon experience. I was standing in an open hallway. I’d been called out of the general Primary “sharing time” lesson with four other teachers. This is the way Mormonism often works. No boundaries, especially not for women. No one thought to consider whether or not privacy might be an issue. When I asked to speak privately, the best I got was me alone in the hall. I explained that I wouldn’t be attending church regularly next year and that was why I couldn’t teach the Sunbeams. The Primary Presidency was eager to tell me that if I had trouble with the new manual, which I don’t think is workable for 3-year-olds, I could teach what I wanted. I tried to explain that wasn’t the problem. The problem is simply that I don’t feel my voice is welcome here. When both women in the Primary Presidency assured me that my voice IS welcome, an

1.        God does not change the course of human events. No amount of twisting ourselves into shapes or trying to figure out how God wants us to worship will protect us from bad things happening. Anyone who tells you differently is selling you something. 2.        God loves. That’s it. If you want to say that God is really just a metaphor for human love, I’m good with that. My personal experience has led me lately to experience God as outside of myself. Most of the time. But I can certainly see why people want to see the divine within themselves, especially after spiritual abuse has occurred. 3.        Paying money to a church isn’t what “tithing” was ever meant to be. It takes your own choice away from you and your own ability to see pain and try to help with it. I don’t think that’s right. 4.        Leadership worship is toxic. It covers up so many sins and leads people to give up themselves. No one mortal is God. No one mortal has exclusive access to God. No one mortal can