my gethsemane… partie deux

you may be shocked and amazed or just plain baffled that someone who just wrote a 1,500 word blog entry, like, 12 hours ago would have a single word left in her. then you’re still getting to know me because although i am often short on cash i am never short on words. anyway, i was still thinking about what i wrote and finally gave in to the unnatural desire to blog at 5am, plus, when your effing pug won’t stop snoring and your mind is racing, what else is a girl to do?

so, i was talking about my feelings for my former religion. my post lit a flame within me that had been blown out a long, long time ago and it just got me to thinking. how do i really feel about the church? am i capable of feeling the holy ghost anymore? and the kicker: will i ever return to the church and be an active member again? and if i were to, under what circumstances? at the moment, i feel like my personal politics interfere with the fundamental beliefs of the church and it’s very likely that this will not change in any significant way any time soon.

the problem is i’m starting to wish i could dress in white and be welcomed into the temple by cute little old men whose white hair match their snowy outfits so that i might participate in some of the sacred (and secret) ordinances that would bring me closer to my god. but usually i snap back to the reality of this wish: only a senile bishop who’d never met or heard of me before would ever issue me a temple recommend… and the senile bishop would only do so after i told him a series of elaborate lies in which i simply skip over the more sordid details from a few years of my life. only after that oscar-worthy performance could i be considered “worthy” to enter a temple.

**speaking of entering the temple, this story may give you some insight into

oakland temple: beautiful on the outside, but don't bother asking me what it looks like inside!

how seriously the church takes its worthiness policy** one of my oldest and dearest girl friends, shelby (i’ll tell you all about her in a future post), married her return-missionary husband in a ceremony in the oakland temple. i’m sure it was lovely, but i wouldn’t know because even though i was her maid-of-honor, i had to wait outside in the courtyard until it was over. usually when i tell people this they think it’s crazy and unfair that the mormon maid-of-honor stood waiting outside during the actual wedding ceremony. i don’t, though, because i understand the reasoning behind it. the temple is a true house of god that has been blessed and dedicated to, well, to god and only those who are deemed worthy in the eyes of the church may enter. it’s like a really exclusive clubhouse. plus maids-of-honor don’t participate in temple weddings the way they do in non-mormon ones. hey, i grew up with this, so, you know, i get it. i wasn’t offended. it did kind of suck to have to dress up and drive to oakland just to take pictures outside the temple, but those are the kinds of things you do for a friend’s big day. **vanity alert** plus i was like 30 pounds lighter at the time, so the photo i have of me and shelby is such a great picture of moi… i’ll have to scan it into my laptop somehow so i can post it here. seriously, i look so cute. oh, and shelby looks nice, too. hahaha. just kidding shelbs.

anyway, i digress… so, i visited the church’s official website out of curiosity and a deep seeded desire to hear something inspirational, something that might stir the still small voice that has become smaller and smaller over the years. i found a 10 minute little video (slightly reeked of propaganda, but what else can you expect from a church production?) that was hosted by steve young **hubba hubba** and some former miss usa, but it also showed clips from some of the adorable late president gordon b. hinckley (by far my favorite prophet– his death last year was one of the catalysts to this whole re-examination experiment). the video was dispelling common misconceptions and myths about the church’s history, its reputation for being isolated from mainstream america, claims that mormons are not christians, etc. like i mentioned, it was a bit brainwash-y, but not in a mean-spirited or negative way. if you get 10 free minutes it might be worth watching, especially if you’re not familiar with the church… plus you get to look at stevie for most of it! i may not attend church anymore, but my devotion to steve young will never die. he’s our boy. go niners!

so, i guess that’s that. i just wanted to get that last bit off my chest. i’ve never admitted to anyone my feelings because with the political climate as it is, it’s not exactly a popular church in the bay area at the moment. i don’t want to say, “oh, when the prop. 8 stuff settles down then it’ll be okay,” because it won’t be okay. i will still remember the disappointment i felt toward the general authority in utah after they issued statements for california mormons, urging them to give their time and money to ensure the passage of the gay marriage ban. i feel like this support of hate legislation (no matter how the church phrases it) just strips away any good feeling i may have been starting to feel again.

and then there’s the situation with my parents. my dad holds the melchezidek priesthood, he can lay his hands upon my head and bless me, he used to volunteer q week at the oakland temple, but when the church decided to get involved in prop. 8 he quietly resigned from his calling and turned in his temple recommend. my parents have stopped paying tithing. i can’t remember the last time someone came by to collect his fast offering (that’s a special tithe you pay the first sunday of each month that goes toward the many lds-run charities or to help poorer families pay for their son or daughter to serve a mission, stuff like that, the kind of stuff that reminds me how much good the church and its members offer to the world…). and each sunday they have taken to going on trips to the beach or to watsonville for fresh fruit or someplace fun like that instead of dressing up for church.

i must say here that my mother was always the best dressed woman in that chapel. while most of those relief society women look unkempt or dress haphazardly in frumpy laura ashley knock-offs with runs in their stockings and ugly shoes with little or no accessories to speak of (unless you count small children hanging on you as an accessory), my mother is a lone swan amid a sea of ugly ducklings. i used to sit on the toilet lid as a child and watch her get ready on sundays. she wears light make-up, has naturally perfectly arched eyebrows (which i pray i inherit someday), smooths on a natural hued lipstick, reddish-brown or nude-y, that complements her outfit *natch* and then, at least she did when i was little, sprinkles lavender talcum powder down her front so she smells clean, but with a hint of provence. then she puts on some very daring, very sophisticated ensemble over her immaculate stockings and silky slip (i used to feel so fancy when i wore slips under my sunday dresses as a child) usually topped off with some fabulous wrap or jacket that doesn’t resemble laura ashley in the slightest. finally she slips her small feet (where my size 8’s came from i may never know, damn genes) into a pair of very likely brand-new heels (my mother owns more shoes than the former first lady of the philppines… ok, i exaggerate but i bet if my mother had all the money in the world she could compete with imelda marcos, who owns like 3,000 pairs of shoes– she even opened a museum which just displayed her collection of footwear.)  lastly, my mother would choose a pair of beautiful earrings and some piece of unique jewelry, a chunky necklace or tiffany bracelet, to complete her outfit.  my mother’s oldest daughter has similar memories of our mother getting ready to go out, so i know that this has been her routine for over 30 years.  tradition can be nice.

so i guess that’s something i’d be losing, that she’d be losing, too, if our family leaves the fold for good.  of course, we’re all sealed together for time and all eternity, so, you know, we’ve still got the afterlife. ha.

fin.  i promise… for now.

my gethsemane… kinda

so, just real quick, i want to explain the name of my blog. originally i was calling it “paris on my mind” (like that song “georgia on my mind”), but i got the idea from the boyfriend that maybe he didn’t care for that name so much because it implied that paris is all i think about and all i plan to blog about. so, to keep the french motif but kind of give a shout-out to where i live, i re-named the blog “dans la 408.” literally this means “in the 408,” 408 being the area code here. anyway, just wanted to clear that up…

i’ve mentioned before that i grew up in the mormon religion. all through my childhood my family attended church q sunday– that’s devoting at least 3 hours to basically a group meeting, a meeting with just those of your age, and then the entire congregation meets together for sacrament meeting– that’s like mass for catholics. as a child you attend primary (that’s where all the kids meet in one large group for lessons and singing **i still remember primary songs i learned like 15-20 years ago** through age 12), then you move up to young women’s or young men’s **i can’t give details on young men’s since i never went *duh* and never really asked my male counterparts about it * i enjoyed church during my teens, besides the going to church on sunday part. i played basketball for the ward (neighborhoods are divided into wards and wards belong to larger, regional stakes–i attended cambrian park ward which was part of the san jose south stake) which i loved because i was on the school team from 7th thru 9th grades, but rode the bench pretty consistently. but at church i felt like a god. i am super competitive and took church athletics very seriously and had one arena where i was the best and could show off and score lots of points. i also played on the ward volleyball team which was fun, especially when my big sister ash and i played together because we were both better than the other girls and we both loved kicking ass. so in a lot of ways church was fun, and it kept me out of trouble, too. when some of my “gentile” friends started drinking and smoking pot in high school, i begged off.

but the absolute best part of being a girl in san jose south stake was camp ritchie. i loved going to camp ritchie. it was just a week-long summer camp for mormon girls and they had other camps all over the country, but from what i hear, none of them could hold a candle to camp ritchie. my camp is up in the sierras, on the side of a mountain with bear lake just a short hike away. we had cabins with wooden bunks and a few years i brought one of my best friends (non-mormon) with me. but otherwise it was me and shelby (aka bonkie… hahaha. i just remembered that stupid nickname, no idea where it came from). shelby and i had grown up in church together since we were like two or three and although her family switched wards after her mom re-married, we still got to go to school and camp together. camp had levels: 1st level for the girls going into 7th grade, 2nd level for the girls going into 8th grade, 3rd level for the girls going into 9th grade, 4th level for the girls going into 10th grade, 5th level for the girls going into 11th grade and finally 6th level for the oldest girls who would be going into the 12th grade. i missed my first year because they did it by age then and i’m young for my grade, so i couldn’t go with shelby and i was never going to go if they hadn’t changed the rules after that year because i would have always been a year behind my classmates. but they did change the rules and i got to go to camp as a 2nd level. 4th level was hard because you went on a 3-day hike through the mountains and missed most of camp, but it was still fun. we slept in sleeping bags and ate gross freeze dried food and i got a nasty sunburn on the tips of my ears, the only place i hadn’t covered with a bandana or sunblock. 5th level is fun because you are basically split into teams of two or three (it was me, shelby, and jennie) and assigned to a younger level to kind of mentor. we went with the 2nd levels which meant we did everything with them, including praying and reading scriptures q night with them in their cabin. shelby and i even got to pick the theme for when we were 6th levels: “the reason for the season.” our idea was that each level would represent a different religious holiday and each day during that week at camp we would celebrate that holiday– so 6th levels were christmas and we got to decorate the lodge with christmas decorations and sing christmas songs. it was silly, but fun, especially because shelby and i knew it had all been our idea. i bore my testimony for the last time at camp ritchie– it was the last time in my life that i would feel close to heavenly father or his son, jesus christ or the holy ghost.

those are the times i look back on as the only times i can remember feeling what the church calls the spirit, or the holy ghost. i could feel god and jesus and for those moments i knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they existed, that jesus had died for me, that he was my savior, my brother, and that heavenly father listened to my prayers. i never felt alone. i never let doubt or resignation fill my heart. i believed in everything– i believed in the book of mormon and i believed that joseph smith had been a prophet. i believed that the current prophet spoke with heavenly father and received revelations from him. i was a lamb.

i miss those feelings. the boyfriend sometimes asks why i still defend the church’s founding beliefs and it’s memories of that sureness, of that confidence, that makes me do it. i still feel the hole left in my heart where my faith used to be.

i stopped going to church during my senior year of high school. i had already lost grip on my faith and sitting through sacrament meeting didn’t help, in fact it made me feel worse. i couldn’t get that same glow at church that i got at girls’ camp, so i just said fuck it. and that’s basically where i am now. a recovering mormon.

but what prompted this whole diatribe is the fact that my parents have stopped attending church, too. ever since prop. 8 came on the scene my liberal democrat parents have begun to distance themselves from the church. i’m not sure about this, but i would argue that they haven’t stopped believing in the religion, it’s the organization they’re mad at. we don’t agree with mormon politics and when politics are brought into the chapel and members are encouraged to donate money to help pass laws like prop.8 to ban gay marriage, well, we’re not down with that. but the idea of my parents quitting the church that formed my childhood has left me reeling. it’s one thing for me to stop believing. it’s another thing when your ever-dependable parents stop, too. i’ve asked them if they plan on going back. they don’t know. they can’t sit through church knowing that they are the only ones who think the church is wrong to take a stance against gay marriage, to issue statements claiming that gay marriage would injure the sanctity of mormon marriages. i mean gay people aren’t lining up to get married in the temple for christ’s sweet sake– they just want the rights that come with being legally married. how in god’s name is that going to hurt my parents’ marriage? or my sisters’ marriages or my brothers’ or my friends’? how will allowing more people who love one another become a married couple affect straight couples? i wish someone could try to explain the reasoning behind that argument. seriously, i want to know why this is even a problem and why has the church, my church, turned against these children of god and told them they’re not good enough, that their feelings are wrong, are sinful. to me the sin lies with those who prevent others from being happy. the sinners are those casting judgements. they claim the bible forbids it? but the bible also forbids eating meat on friday. the bible says a lot of things that we aren’t supposed to interpret literally. the bible was meant to serve as a source of comfort, a source of guidance. however, you must also use your best judgment and the free will god gave us.

i may get some flack for this– i don’t give a shit. this is how i feel. this is what i believe in now. someday, when the mormon church wakes up and sees the hurt and heartache it’s caused the gay community, i may return to the fold. so now i wait. and so does my heart.