Church Stuff (or "Guilt Guilt Guilt Guilt Guilt")
OK. The first thing that should be know about Rachel's Issues is that she blames many of them on her funked-out religious life. So here's the deal:
I am a Mormon, born and raised. I'm sorry if this irritates you. It irritates me too. But there doesn't seem to be a lot I can do about it.
You see, being LDS (particularly born-in-the-blue-through-and-through LDS) is a complicated issue. You grow up completely inundated by the whole thing, and your parents' lives, and your sibling's lives, and your own life, and (if you live in a heavily Mormoned area, like I always have), everyone-else-around-you's lives are totally wrapped up in this absolute conviction that The Church is True. Everything you think about the world is colored with Mormonism, every choice you make carries its tint. People like me-- the ones raised really Mormon-- don't ever leave the church. Oh yes, they may "leave" it, but the truth is, they're still going to carry Mormon baggage and Mormon fears and Mormon desires around with them for the rest of their lives. That's why a very complex and multi-faceted "ex-Mormon" subculture exists. Just check out online forums like Zion's Lighthouse or The View From the Foyer and you'll see what I'm talking about.
Though I have strongly toyed with atheism-- and actually spent a few blissful months as an honest-to-God (hah!) atheist-- I feel that I have experienced enough of a loving Something Else to be unable to turn back down that path. But My Good Heavens to Betsy Ross, I really resent the church sometimes. Most of the time. And I have so much resentment I don't even know where to start explaining it all. And this, of course, all ties in with the guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt.
I think a large part of my resentment comes from a sense that I don't really have a choice in the matter of religion. It would absolutely break my darling parents' hearts if I ever turned my back on the faith, it would wrench apart relationships with my in-laws (particularly my Mother-in-Law...more about her later), it would alienate me from my community. Further, leaving the faith would probably result in my being constantly wracked by fear that my non-Mormon path would ultimately result in damnation, which, in Mormon terms, particularly sucks, because it means that your family (the very one that they've pushed on you so in this life) will be taken away from you in the next. I want to spend eternity with my husband, and it scares the shitlings out of me to think that I might not be able to...and all because of a little pride and stubborness. "There I had it," I imagine I'll be doomed to say for eternity, "Right there in my lap. The fullness of the gospel. The only true church. The only path toward salvation. And I didn't take it. Boy, do I ever suck." Oh, and, of course, there's the matter of children. I really am totally incapable of envisioning a way of raising well-behaved, drug-free, sex-free, swear-free, caffeine-free kids outside of the warm coccoon of the church.
And yes, of course, I'm not so dumb that I don't realize there are alternative ways of thinking about things. But let me tell you, one's head can think one thing and one's heart can think an entirely other thing, and all you get is tied up in knots. A part of me says, "It's absolute bullshit to think that the benevolent force of love that I've experienced would ever want to keep me away from happiness and progression for all of eternity"; the other part says, "But what if does? Or what if he can't help it? What if he's just someone standing on the side of the road, desperately signalling to you that there's a bridge out ahead and that you'd better stop?" Part one says, "What is God like? What does God want? Does God have a gender? Does it matter?" Part two says, "God is a man with a body of flesh and bones. Stop trying to make God into something you want Him to be and not the being that He is." So yeah, there's lots of inward fighting, multiple angels and devils hanging out all around, if you will, all clamoring to be heard and hearkened to.
But anyway, this all leads to a strong sense of isolation for me, particularly in an environment like BYU where a discussion about the nature of God can't just be a discussion about the nature of God...it either has to be some sort of confession of your "testimony struggles" or it is a harshly carried out debate. I can't ever say anything like, "I sure wish gay marriage were legal," without fear of being deeply condemned for my heretical opinions. Even dumb things, like using swear words, have to be absolutely kept in check. For example, I own two books about knitting by Debbie Stoller that have the (gasp!) word "Bitch" in the title (it's cute, really, they're "Stich n Bitch" books). But of course, my visiting teachers (two ladies my age from the ward [congregation]) were shocked and horrified by their presence in my household. I'm strongly considering hiding them for my Mom-in-Law's upcoming visit. But that just pisses me off. And I had knowing that by not going to church for a month or two I am am branding myself with the label of "Inactive" and "In need of fellowshipping." I just want to be a freaking person, people! Please stop thinking about me in terms of my soul's salvatory state or in my level of offensiveness. I'm sorry if I think that it's OK to be gay. But even sorrier, I'm sorry that I'm sorry. And even sorrier, I'm afraid that being sorry that I'm sorry makes me a Bad and a Disobedient person who is quickly, pridefully, marching down to hell. Ya know, the most blissful thing for me about my brief period of atheism is the fact that I totally came out of the closet. I was absolutely clean. It upset people, but I felt fabulous, because at least I didn't have to hide. And I really, honestly, genuinely didn't ever worry that I might be going to hell. Two really great feelings.
And I'm running out of energy (it's bedtime!) but remind me to tell ya'll sometime about how BYU is an example of all that is bad about the church. With "Honor" equalling one's sideburn or skirt length, student government being absolutely non-representative, and heirarchical authoritative structures being alive and well. But that's all for another day, my friends.
I think left on my own I would have a tendency to drift towards a less dogmatic religious community, becoming a Bahai or a Universalist Unitarian, though I have, strangely enough, been having a torrent love affair with the mother of all dogmatic faiths, Catholicism. It's just so f surreal and mythic and transcendent and ethereally beautiful. And I have a thing for ritual, which makes Mass one of my most favorite things in the universe. It helps, of course, that I live near Salt Lake, which boasts an incredibly gorgeous cathedral, the Cathedral of the Madeleine.
(Can you tell I'm having fun with the link feature tonight?)
So thanks for listening. This has been somewhat cathartic. And just so you know, not all mormons are as obsessed with maybe going to hell as I am. It seems to be something that I got hung up on somewhere along the way and haven't been able to let it go. Hell is a scary thing, yo!
I am a Mormon, born and raised. I'm sorry if this irritates you. It irritates me too. But there doesn't seem to be a lot I can do about it.
You see, being LDS (particularly born-in-the-blue-through-and-through LDS) is a complicated issue. You grow up completely inundated by the whole thing, and your parents' lives, and your sibling's lives, and your own life, and (if you live in a heavily Mormoned area, like I always have), everyone-else-around-you's lives are totally wrapped up in this absolute conviction that The Church is True. Everything you think about the world is colored with Mormonism, every choice you make carries its tint. People like me-- the ones raised really Mormon-- don't ever leave the church. Oh yes, they may "leave" it, but the truth is, they're still going to carry Mormon baggage and Mormon fears and Mormon desires around with them for the rest of their lives. That's why a very complex and multi-faceted "ex-Mormon" subculture exists. Just check out online forums like Zion's Lighthouse or The View From the Foyer and you'll see what I'm talking about.
Though I have strongly toyed with atheism-- and actually spent a few blissful months as an honest-to-God (hah!) atheist-- I feel that I have experienced enough of a loving Something Else to be unable to turn back down that path. But My Good Heavens to Betsy Ross, I really resent the church sometimes. Most of the time. And I have so much resentment I don't even know where to start explaining it all. And this, of course, all ties in with the guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt.
I think a large part of my resentment comes from a sense that I don't really have a choice in the matter of religion. It would absolutely break my darling parents' hearts if I ever turned my back on the faith, it would wrench apart relationships with my in-laws (particularly my Mother-in-Law...more about her later), it would alienate me from my community. Further, leaving the faith would probably result in my being constantly wracked by fear that my non-Mormon path would ultimately result in damnation, which, in Mormon terms, particularly sucks, because it means that your family (the very one that they've pushed on you so in this life) will be taken away from you in the next. I want to spend eternity with my husband, and it scares the shitlings out of me to think that I might not be able to...and all because of a little pride and stubborness. "There I had it," I imagine I'll be doomed to say for eternity, "Right there in my lap. The fullness of the gospel. The only true church. The only path toward salvation. And I didn't take it. Boy, do I ever suck." Oh, and, of course, there's the matter of children. I really am totally incapable of envisioning a way of raising well-behaved, drug-free, sex-free, swear-free, caffeine-free kids outside of the warm coccoon of the church.
And yes, of course, I'm not so dumb that I don't realize there are alternative ways of thinking about things. But let me tell you, one's head can think one thing and one's heart can think an entirely other thing, and all you get is tied up in knots. A part of me says, "It's absolute bullshit to think that the benevolent force of love that I've experienced would ever want to keep me away from happiness and progression for all of eternity"; the other part says, "But what if does? Or what if he can't help it? What if he's just someone standing on the side of the road, desperately signalling to you that there's a bridge out ahead and that you'd better stop?" Part one says, "What is God like? What does God want? Does God have a gender? Does it matter?" Part two says, "God is a man with a body of flesh and bones. Stop trying to make God into something you want Him to be and not the being that He is." So yeah, there's lots of inward fighting, multiple angels and devils hanging out all around, if you will, all clamoring to be heard and hearkened to.
But anyway, this all leads to a strong sense of isolation for me, particularly in an environment like BYU where a discussion about the nature of God can't just be a discussion about the nature of God...it either has to be some sort of confession of your "testimony struggles" or it is a harshly carried out debate. I can't ever say anything like, "I sure wish gay marriage were legal," without fear of being deeply condemned for my heretical opinions. Even dumb things, like using swear words, have to be absolutely kept in check. For example, I own two books about knitting by Debbie Stoller that have the (gasp!) word "Bitch" in the title (it's cute, really, they're "Stich n Bitch" books). But of course, my visiting teachers (two ladies my age from the ward [congregation]) were shocked and horrified by their presence in my household. I'm strongly considering hiding them for my Mom-in-Law's upcoming visit. But that just pisses me off. And I had knowing that by not going to church for a month or two I am am branding myself with the label of "Inactive" and "In need of fellowshipping." I just want to be a freaking person, people! Please stop thinking about me in terms of my soul's salvatory state or in my level of offensiveness. I'm sorry if I think that it's OK to be gay. But even sorrier, I'm sorry that I'm sorry. And even sorrier, I'm afraid that being sorry that I'm sorry makes me a Bad and a Disobedient person who is quickly, pridefully, marching down to hell. Ya know, the most blissful thing for me about my brief period of atheism is the fact that I totally came out of the closet. I was absolutely clean. It upset people, but I felt fabulous, because at least I didn't have to hide. And I really, honestly, genuinely didn't ever worry that I might be going to hell. Two really great feelings.
And I'm running out of energy (it's bedtime!) but remind me to tell ya'll sometime about how BYU is an example of all that is bad about the church. With "Honor" equalling one's sideburn or skirt length, student government being absolutely non-representative, and heirarchical authoritative structures being alive and well. But that's all for another day, my friends.
I think left on my own I would have a tendency to drift towards a less dogmatic religious community, becoming a Bahai or a Universalist Unitarian, though I have, strangely enough, been having a torrent love affair with the mother of all dogmatic faiths, Catholicism. It's just so f surreal and mythic and transcendent and ethereally beautiful. And I have a thing for ritual, which makes Mass one of my most favorite things in the universe. It helps, of course, that I live near Salt Lake, which boasts an incredibly gorgeous cathedral, the Cathedral of the Madeleine.
(Can you tell I'm having fun with the link feature tonight?)
So thanks for listening. This has been somewhat cathartic. And just so you know, not all mormons are as obsessed with maybe going to hell as I am. It seems to be something that I got hung up on somewhere along the way and haven't been able to let it go. Hell is a scary thing, yo!
posted by Rachel @ 10:06 PM
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