Charleston: A Violation of Sacred Space

I was not alive during the Civil Rights movement. But if I talked to someone who grew up then, it would be unnerving to realize how disturbingly similar our living experiences are. We could talk about conflicts that arise simply because that blacks can occupy the same swimming pool as whites. We could talk about the inexcusable police cruelty on unarmed black men. We could talk about the arrival of the National Guard to quell violence in areas rife with racial conflict.

And now, as of this week, we can now talk about our reaction to a white man, armed with a handgun and unspeakable hatred, who opened fire in a place of black worship.

I have no words to express how I feel about this terrorist event in Charleston (yes, it is a terrorist act) for myriad reasons. There are many directions one can take in response to this event, but for now, I am contemplating on having a sacred space ruthlessly and perversely violated like the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church just experienced this week.

I feel a deep connection to Clementa Pickney, Tywanza Sanders, Cynthia Hurd, Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, Rev. Depayne Middleton Doctor, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lance, Rev. Daniel Simmons, and Myra Thompson. Why? Because while they were sitting in their Bible study class on Wednesday evening, I was also in a scripture study class at my place of worship here in Boston. Like these victims, I understand how uplifting and edifying it can be to worship in a sacred space.

But what is it, one may ask, that creates this sacred space? Part of the answer is that churches imbue a spirit of trust that is quietly disappearing from American culture. Even in the most historically important and visually arresting edifices, there are often no cumbersome security lines. There are no background checks. There is seldom a suspicious glance at a visitor. And, in many cases, there is no entrance fee. Rather, a church building generally seeks to be a visual representation of God's presence and love, as it offers its inhabitants a spirit of respect and impartiality. And in return, the unspoken but expected rule is to treat fellow congregants in a similar manner as you pray and worship to this same God. As a group, we are responsible to ensuring that this space remains holy.

I have relied on this spirit of trust each time I go to my scripture study class and my Sunday worship services. I place deep confidence in the strangers whom I worship with that we will choose to see each other as God sees us and respect one another's humanity.

So, in the wake of Charleston:

I am deeply angered that someone chose to occupy--and violently destroy--churchgoers' sacred space.

I am infuriated that I was able to leave my church building safely on Wednesday evening, and others in this country cannot enjoy this same privilege.

May we all pray and work harder toward brotherhood, peace, and justice in this country.

Photo by Stephen Melkisethian.

Holy Spaces, Prayer Rolls, and Being Remembered in Mecca

As many of you know, I was able to visit my parents in Doha, Qatar over break. It's a country that is largely bereft of grass, has more construction cranes than I could count, and has unrestrained pride in hosting the 2022 World Cup.  Somehow, though, my parents and brothers have learned to call it home, and seeing them so happily situated was one of the best parts about living there.

Upon arrival, my mother was anxious to introduce me to A-Beer, her neighbor next door, and one of my mother's close friends. She is a beautiful young Muslim mother from Jordan who had declined a lucrative engineering career to raise five children. Somehow, however, she had found time to give my mother rides and prepare her to pass Qatar's stringent driving test (no small task). My mother's highly coveted driver's license and acclimation to Qatar can be partly attributed to A-Beer and her kindness.

I finally had a chance to meet A-Beer after she and her family had returned from Mecca. For those who are unaware, a Muslim's trip to Mecca is a powerfully spiritual pilgrimage, as they have the chance to walk and pray around the Ka'aba seven times. The Ka'aba  is Islam's holiest site, as its foundations were built by Abraham and Ishmael. Muslims all over the world turn their bodies towards this site every day of their life, so the experience of seeing the Ka-aba first hand can only be described as a most sacred experience.

Upon our arrival to their house, A-Beer's small children told us about their visit to the Ka'aba and were anxious for us to try the zamzam water. This water is called miraculous, as it is thought to be from the same location where the Hagar quenched her thirst in the wilderness after her expulsion. As this water is highly prized and considered to have special healing properties, I was touched that they would want to share their zamzam water with me.

But the most poignant moment occurred when A-Beer told me that she had prayed for our whole family as she walked around the Ka'aba. She had even prayed for me to get married! I was astonished that she would even bother to to pray for our family, let alone for someone like me whom she had never met, when making the most spiritual trip of her life. But somehow, I had been remembered and prayed for in a part of the world that I have never been, have no connection to, and never will be allowed to enter.

Yet in A-Beer's mind, she probably prayed for me and my family because she knew that as a non-Muslim, I would never be able to enter and pray toward the Ka-aba. So, she had taken upon herself to give a prayer for me in a literal space that I was not allowed to occupy, in hopes that I could receive the same blessing from the Ka'aba that she enjoyed.

After meeting A-Beer, I have not only reflected  on the oft inherent selfishness of my own prayers, but also my gratitude of being a member of the church that is concerned with the same problem that A-Beer recognized in her own religion. I am grateful that when I enter a Mormon temple, I can go to our prayer roll and write down the name of someone who is in need of a blessing. While our temples, like Mecca, also restrict non-believers from entering, no one is excluded from our prayer rolls. Rather, their names are placed on our temple altar, one of our temple's holiest sites, and prayed for in a fervent and heartfelt manner. I have also reflected on my need to be a more active participant in temple work, where I do have the chance to give my deceased ancestors blessings in a space that they cannot physically occupy either.

I am grateful for a religion like Islam, which may restrict its holy city to believers, but will not forbid believers from sharing holy zamzam water and praying for non-Muslims like me. And I am grateful for Mormon temples that may limit its entrants to those who are sufficiently prepared, but where potentially anyone can be a recipient of its blessings.

Photo Credit to Kashif Aziz

Why I am becoming uncomfortable with the Ordain Women Movement

When first hearing of the Ordain Women's Movement's desire to attend the General Priesthood session, I was intrigued. While I do not agree with their views, I nonetheless saw them as faithful sisters who had a genuine question to ask our church leaders: could they attend? And could they be viewed as prospective elders? I believed their planned event to be respectful, as they sought no deceptive means of entry and did not intend to carry signs or banners. Most important, I believe in asking questions to God as well as our church leaders to achieve greater clarity and understanding. And from my perspective, I perceived that they were doing just that.

On Tuesday morning, the Church announced its decision regarding the Ordain Women's request. They were denied tickets, but remarkably, our leaders implemented a seminal adjustment: they would allow the General Priesthood session to be broadcast live, and invited these women to watch it, should they choose. For a church that institutes changes at a glacial pace, I was surprised and pleased. I immediately felt the love of our leaders who heard these women's earnest desire and enacted a decision that I think works well as a compromise. 

The Ordain Women Movement then, has received an answer to their posed question. However, the response given by Kate Kelly (the movement's founder) made me wince:

"We will be in the line for standby tickets to the priesthood session on Oct. 5 to demonstrate our continued willingness and desire to attend. We are demonstrating our faith by standing at the door and knocking."

Kelly's statement, I believe, now marks her as a protester (a title that she was ironically trying to eschew in the first place.)  But what makes me uncomfortable is that she considers flouting our church leaders' decision as a sign of faith. And I cannot stand by that. When our church teaches, "Ask and ye shall receive, knock and it shall be opened unto you," it does not necessarily always mean that we will "receive" the answer that we want. Rather, when auxilary church leaders state their answer (and show a willingness to adjust), I believe that they represent the Lord's voice on earth, giving me reason to hearken. Unfortunately, I don't believe these women's decision to stand in line will help create a spiritual ambiance for an important meeting.

Instead, I believe that the Ordain Women Movement will be more effective if they continue to propagate civil dialogue on this issue. It is obvious that they are smart, faithful women, and I respect their ability to articulate their points. And in return, I pray that disagreeing members will display charitable measures toward their opinions (see my post on toleration). They are, after all, our sisters in the gospel. While I do not support female ordination, I stand behind cultural and institutional changes to help women better understand their divine potential (see this post). I am not sure if all of my envisioned changes will ever be realized. But with the recent lowered mission ages for women, thoughtful conversations on chastity and modesty, and adjustments to the Young Women Program, I believe that I have many reasons to be optimistic.

Perhaps we are not going to have every change we want on our timetable, if ever. But if we believe that this church is led by Christ himself through a prophet and apostles, then let's stand by what they say. And if our received answer to a desire is "no" or "not yet," let us pray for greater faith and understanding--as well as an increased willingness to yield to the Lord's timing.*

*This sentence has been slightly changed to include the phrase "or not yet."

Photo by David McConeghy

Responding to others' comments to "Why I am Staying"

With the burst of accolades, acerbic criticism, as well as Google+ and Facebook notifications that erupted from this post, I am even more cognizant that retaining millennials in church is very germane to current religious discussion. I would like to use this post to respond to others' comments and criticism:

1. The exhibition of members' and church leaders' poor behavior.
Many people immediately described how they have been emotionally hurt by other members. Certainly, we should ensure that we are not stumbling blocks to others' faith. But I don't pretend that the Mormon church as an institution is infallible. It will never be perfect, because the people in it are not perfect. I have certainly been frustrated by members' behavior numerous times.  However, we are still taught to view our fellow members as brothers and sisters because we need to learn to work together, forgive freely (see my previous posts on forgiveness and toleration), and strive to view them as God sees them. Being a member of this church has challenged me to reach out to others whom I don't think that I would befriend otherwise, and served as an ideal laboratory for me to take the precepts of Christ's teachings into practice. I realize that this model is not unique to our faith. But I appreciate that it is in place for us to potentially develop the strong bonds of sisterhood and brotherhood that the gospel can help us achieve.

2. The issue of nonpaid clergy.
I realize that I may have offended others who have seen other leaders of other faiths genuinely care about their congregations. Like I said before, I am merely referring to my own faith experience, and I am very aware that leaders of other denominations have genuine intent. I certainly don't assume that church leaders won't make mistakes (see a previous post on this), but I do believe that for the most part, a local church leader's willingness to spend a substantial amount of time on congregations' needs with no monetary compensation is a strong indicator of their genuine intent. And as I have stated before, we need to listen to our leaders' words in "all patience and faith" (Doctrine and Covenants 21:5).

3. The issue of asking questions.
Many people perceive Mormonism as a religion where we blindly follow local church leaders, irrespective of what they say. This is simply untrue. We are a church that heavily focuses on personal revelation. Professor Kathleen Flake at Vanderbilt even refers to Joseph Smith as the "Henry Ford" of revelation, wanting everyone to have access to it.

For example, we are specifically told to receive a personal confirmation from prayer that what church leaders are saying are true. Moreover, we are taught that we can obtain a relationship with God, which comes through inquiring to him about our decisions and our concerns. I don't know whether we will receive answers to every question that we will have (see my previous post on doubt). But I have found that the more more I inquire and search the gospel for answers, the more knowledge I am capable of obtaining. I believe that God is one who earnestly wants to impart His knowledge to us, provided that we are ready to receive it.

4. Whether or not our doctrine can be reduced to a "laundry list."
For many people, our church is ostensibly a commandment-driven religion. However, I perceive these commandments as helping to refashion me into the person that God wants me to be.
A previous post of mine explores John Milton's poem "On His Blindness," where Milton decides that it is our desires of our hearts, not our talents, that make us valuable to God. I agree wholeheartedly. Like I said before, God will judge us by our hearts; not by our "church resume."

Image by Philip Newton.

Can tolerance be viewed as a lower form of love?

As may be obvious from my last post, I am very interested in acceptance, which leads me to my next musing: tolerance. I define tolerance as acceptance, though not necessarily agreement. Tolerance is a volatile topic; what we choose and not choose to tolerate largely characterizes us. So how do we define the parameters of our tolerance?

To start this conversation, let's consider toleration's (relatively short) history in Western thought. Locke and later Voltaire, incredulous that King Philip would revoke the Edict of Nantes (a treaty that recognized French Calvinism in a dominant Catholic country), advocated for the separation of religion and state. Locke even wrote an anonymous letter in Latin to the King, saying that it was gentle persuasion, not violence or government intervention, that led to genuine conversion. More importantly, one who possessed wrong beliefs did not deserve a broken body. It was Locke, Voltaire, and other Enlightenment thinkers who viewed the extent of one's tolerance as a sort of litmus test of being a "modern" person.

I would argue that we are very much inheritors of much Enlightenment thought. I think that it is little accident that society asks us to be inclusive to others, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, etc. Like these previous Enlightenment thinkers, we want to be perceived as a "modern" person, not blinded by a myopic perspective. But in a post-Enlightenment society, I think we need to consider how far does (or should) our toleration extend. Obviously, if we choose to uphold certain principles, we cannot tolerate everything that comes our way. I think that few people wish to tolerate the more nefarious aspects of our society: rape, abuse, etc. But tolerance can be a slippery slope when our principles may conflict with others. How far do we wish to tolerate others' freedom of speech? Religious fundamentalism? Right to bear arms? The right to marry whomever we choose, irrespective of gender?

To what extent we choose to tolerate others' beliefs and principles is a complicated one that we need to figure out for ourselves. The only "hard and fast" rule I can think of is our toleration towards others. I believe it is possible to look at tolerance as a lower form of love. For me, love can be partially defined as acceptance, though not necessarily agreement. We don't have to agree with every belief, principle, or political statement that comes our way. But we can accept others' humanity, which reaffirms our own. We can view others as human beings of great worth, and respect others' choices to define their "tolerance parameters." In choosing to increase our tolerance levels toward others, I would argue that we increase our capacity to love. 


Photo by RaeAllen.