An abbrev to avoid

Can i, as someone with pretty decent fluency in German, please ask the entire abbreviation-obsessed English-speaking church to stop abbreviating Sunday school as SS in writing?

I mean, really, it doesn’t look good.

Fun with platitudes!

So yesterday was Mothers Day, and we got to hear all the usual Mothers Day sacrament meeting platitudes, along with a number of actual insights.

And it just so happens that one of my least favorite Mother Day illustrations got vectored. It goes as follows (you may recognize it):

A good mother is someone who, upon discovering that there are five people at the table and only four pieces of pie, suddenly declares that she never cared much for pie anyway.

Even leaving aside the glorification of such self-abnegation as a uniquely and positively maternal quality (which is simply wrong on many, many levels), i’ve long thought that there is one good thing about this false statement about what it means to be a mother: It lends itself well to parody.

Consider:

A real mother is someone who, upon discovering that there are five people at the table and only four pieces of pie, suddenly points out that it is time for everyone to go to bed. Fortunately, when the morning comes she has disposed of the pie so that there can be no arguments about it.

Alternately, we could go all mathematical about it:

A smart mother is someone who, upon discovering that there are five people at the table and only four pieces of pie, recognizes that if four people each get 80% of a piece of pie, what remains gives the fifth person an equal share.

In a perhaps more serious vein, Jeanne (my wife) jotted down her version, which emphasizes foresight in avoiding arguments:

A good mother is is someone who, upon discovering that there are five people at the table, cuts the pie into five pieces.

Any of y’all have any other ways to spin this?

All those in favor, please signify…

I’ve been thinking lately about the asymmetries in the ways girls and boys are treated in the way things are currently structured within Mormonism, and here’s a subtle but (i think) important one: Active teen Mormon boys get more public approval of religious rites of passage than active teen Mormon girls do. Consider:

When a boy turns twelve, he gets presented before his congregation for being ordained as a deacon, and gets the affirmation of having everybody there affirm his worthiness.* When a girl turns twelve, she gets…well, bubkes. If she’s got a reasonably progressive bishop, she gets called up in front of the congregation and congratulated, but no affirmative vote by the congregation.

Age fourteen, same thing. Age sixteen, repeat it. And at age eighteen or nineteen, yet again. Every time, the boy gets positive affirmation, while the girl gets something rather less.

I’m not sure how this could be fixed, but i don’t think this is something rooted in doctrine so much as a “that’s the way we do stuff” sort of thing. I don’t know that the solution would be to have a sustaining vote for the girls at various ages (i mean, i don’t know what would be voted on, to begin with), but there’s got to be something. Thoughts?

* Yeah, i know, it’s possible that somebody in the congregation objects—but that’s rare enough that we can ignore it for the purpose of discussion, i think.

Basketball for girls (or not)

So there’s a longstanding Mormon meme about basketball being the default youth night activity for the young men when the leaders don’t have anything real planned.

But after having lived a couple places with a daughter in young women, might i suggest that “health and beauty nights” serve exactly the same purpose for that organization?

I’m not really good at this

So what’s up with Mormons and this compulsive need we have to apologize for our speaking abilities when we get up and deliver a sacrament meeting address?

This suddenly became quite a bit more real (and not just annoying) to me since my oldest was asked to speak in sacrament meeting tomorrow. She practiced her speech in front of Jeanne and me this evening, and it was good and we told her so, except that we asked her to eliminate the sentence she opened with where she said she was nervous and downplayed expectations for the whole thing.

She objected to our request, saying—seriously!—that one has to start a sacrament meeting address that way.

I mean, kudos to her for such astute cultural observation skills, but is it really a good thing to tell people at the outset that you’re no good at what you’re doing? After all, such a claim is either wasted time since we’re all about to become painfully aware of it whether you say it or not, or it’s false modesty. Either way, not good.

(And it’s not just girls, or even just girls and women—men and boys do it too. Do similar things happen in other faith traditions where congregants regularly speak in services?)

p.s. She finally conceded our point after a couple minutes of back and forth on the issue. Score one for basic rhetorical competence.

Adventures in home teaching, part 2

Another home teaching story, from the same ward as the last one:

So we’d gone a few months without home teachers, but that didn’t really stress us out, so we didn’t think about it much.

We were about to start to think about it a bit more.

So our ward had the schedule where sacrament meeting came last, which has advantages and disadvantages, but one of the biggest advantages accrues to the ward choir director: you can corral people into choir practice a lot easier when everyone is in the same place at the end of the meeting block, rather than scattered around a bunch of different classrooms.

Therefore, as you might expect, sacrament meeting was followed immediately by choir practice. Well, neither of us were in the ward choir, so at the end of sacrament meeting the choir members headed to the front of the chapel, and we headed toward the back.

As we were about to leave the chapel, a man who we’d seen before but hadn’t ever properly met stopped us and asked, “Are you the B—s?” We said we were, and he said, “I’m your new home teacher—i’m Brother—” and at that moment there was a loud burst from the organ, drowning out his name.

Now, looking back on things, we realized that we should have asked him to repeat it—but we didn’t, instead just setting up an appointment for him to come by later that week.

Well, he came by, but at that point we couldn’t very well ask what his name was—i mean, he’d told us and we were even letting him in our house—so we listened carefully to see if he told us his name.

Nope.

So next Sunday we listened carefully to see if he or anyone else would say his name.

Nope.

Or rather, lots of people said his name, but he was well-known enough in the ward that everyone who talked to him used his first name, and it was a very, very common name.

Which means that for several months, we had monthly visits from a very good home teacher…whose name we didn’t know.

Tired of the cold

Resolved: That the women of the church be the ones to set the temperatures in Mormon sacrament meetings, and if the men of the church want to be so deucéd cold, they can just take off their suit coats!

Round robin reading

A comment on my last post got me wondering: Where did the tradition (for lack of a better word) in Mormon teaching come from where people are asked to pass around the manual and read from it a paragraph or so at a time? Sometimes this is the way stories get read, but i’ve really seen it most often where the entire lesson consists of everybody reading a piece of the lesson from the manual in turn.

I mean, whoever came up with the idea that this is anything even remotely approaching sound pedagogical practice?

An advantageous calling

So i’ve mentioned being a ward clerk before. Being ward clerk has one very specific advantage over all other callings in the church—about midway through sacrament meeting you get to get up and walk around. Okay, okay, so it’s walking around with a purpose, since you do it so that you can get a headcount of sacrament meeting attendees, but still, it makes for a nice break in the middle of things, you know?

Once i get released from this calling, that’s what i’m gonna miss.

We do it, too!

The next time i’m in a priesthood or Sunday school class and someone makes some comment about how they went to a Roman Catholic mass and that it was just weird, what with all the sitting then standing then sitting then kneeling then standing then sitting and so on and how that feels so “not reverent” or somesuch (something that doesn’t get said very often, but that gets mentioned more than i’m comfortable with), i’m going to stop stopping myself and simply mention standing for intermediate hymns.

Is separate equal?

Why are the annual relief society and young women broadcasts separate events? I mean, the young men and the male adults of the church have theirs together (i.e., general priesthood broadcasts),* so why not do the same for the females in the church?**

* Insert obligatory snark about how they’re actually really only young men broadcasts, though, what with the number of addresses in them that begin, “I direct my remarks to the young men in the audience tonight.”
** Which would presumably give them two broadcasts, too.

Wisdom from the younger set

From my ten-year-old daughter, totally unprompted:

I think they call it “relief society” because you’re so relieved you don’t have to be with your kids.

Parenting: Clearly, we’re doing it right.

Mixed messages

Absolutely true story: Right now, my 12-year-old daughter is at a stake youth activity. The fun part? It was advertised as a “casual church dress” activity.

So that means she was supposed to wear…what? Anybody care to parse that one for me?

Praying to our families?

From a correspondent, lightly edited for style:

So Sunday in sharing time* they were doing some sort of game and they were presenting scenarios and the kids had to choose the right. They were things like “You are invited on a cruise that goes over Sunday, what should you do?” (Of course, the “correct” answer was don’t go; [my daughter] said that would be stupid, of course she’d go.)** One of the scenarios was that you are in bed trying to go to sleep and your parents call you down for family prayer. [My daughter] was utterly confused. She said she sat there with a strange look on her face trying to figure out what in the world “family prayer” is. She’d never heard of it. She was sure our family had never done it. She couldn’t figure it out. She laughed and laughed when I told her that family prayer is simply a prayer you do with your family. She was like “Then why didn’t they just say that?”

It reminds me a bit of my own experience with the term “family home evening”.

* For those who don’t know, this is a part of primary, the church’s organization for three- to eleven-year olds.

** My thought on this: Who’s inviting our kids on cruises, anyway?

Speculation! (the sequel)

So in my last post i said that there was a lot of speculation about what would be announced in the out-of-cycle stake conference that our stake had this past Sunday.

And so, you may ask, what was the big announcement? Well, the answer is [drum roll, please]…

Absolutely nothing.

Yes, that’s right, much to my surprise the big announcement matched precisely what i was hoping for, if only to teach people that speculation doesn’t work. There had been a number of general authorities in town to do some training for the stake presidencies, and the stake presidencies asked for them to preside at specially-called stake conferences. That is all.

I will, though, say that there was a bit of a bait-and-switch. A member of the quorum of apostles was in town, but he spoke at the next stake over—we got a member of the quorums of seventy (and the next stake over got a member of the presiding bishopric, and i think there was another stake with another member of the quorums of seventy present, but i kind of lost track). Of course, i was out of town the previous Sunday, so it may have been announced then—i don’t know for sure.

But the general authority who was present at our stake had a good sense of humor about so many people expecting some big announcement—he got up and told us he had one: “Keep the commandments.” It was delivered quite nicely as a laugh line, but i think the more serious point underlying it was both well delivered and well taken.

Speculation!

So our stake* has an extra-special out-of-cycle stake conference tomorrow, with the featured speaker being a member of the quorum of apostles.** Given this, there’s all manner of speculation about what this might mean, what’s going to happen tomorrow, and so on.

Therefore, i know that i’m wishing will happen: That he gets up and says something like, “I’ve heard that there’s a lot of speculation about what’s going to happen today. Really, i just wanted to see what Alaska looks like in snowy weather, and folks figured it would be good if i spoke to everyone while i was here. Have a nice day.”

Who knows—maybe it is some sort of big-deal event. But it’s always fun to see people’s speculations get punctured, and a boy can wish for that, can’t he?

* Actually, as it turns out, it appears that this is actually going to be a multi-stake thing.

** Yeah, i know, it’s bizarre that i always write quorum of apostles instead of the more usual (and church-approved) quorum of the twelve or quorum of the twelve apostles. I just feel like my phrasing is more transparent, given the way we generally refer to other priesthood quorums—i mean, not only do we not call elders quorums quorums of the ninety-six, technically a deacons quorum is also a quorum of (up to) twelve, and the ambiguity vaguely bothers me.

Getting it right

True story: My oldest is twelve years old, and so attends young women classes at church. One recent Sunday, the topic of abortion came up, and there was a bit of a pile-on about how it was a horrible, sinful thing, no exceptions. My daughter eventually pointed out that the church’s official position on abortion is actually a bit more nuanced than that (and she then got backed up on that by one of the adults present).

It led me to wonder how often that happens—that is, how often discussions of hot-button issues that start going beyond the church’s actual teachings get reoriented to what the church’s position actually is, and how often things go completely off the rails (which, of course, would lay the foundation for further off-rail-going in the future).

Telling on myself

One time a list of blessings you get from attending the temple was included in the printed program for sacrament meeting, and one of them said “You will be thin.” I was rather surprised, since i figured that was a promise only God could make, and then only individually, until i realized that i had misread it. What it really said? “The veil will be thin.”

Circular reasoning works because…

Whether it’s true or not, i’ve long been bothered by the circularity of the idea that low church attendance on the part of Mormons is consistently the result of not acting on or rejecting or ever even actually receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost*—it only works if you assume that the given cause(s) have the given result, and i’ve never seen any actual good evidence that doesn’t involve such presuppositions. It could be true, i suppose, but there’s got to be a better way of making the claim.

* With exceptions for things like poor health and such, of course.

Some useful advice

Stake conferences are tough on little kids, but i’ve noticed that there are some reliable tricks to get them to quiet down occasionally—like a stake children’s choir. For some reason, little kids pay attention when they hear little kids’ voices.

Therefore, my solution to the high ambient noise levels at conferences in stakes with a large number of children:

Every other speaker should be a six-year-old.

You should encourage your stake presidents to send donations to their least-favorite left-leaning charity of choice in lieu of sending me personal thanks.