(T.I. will now be in reference to any writing that is part of The Inquisitions)
I haven’t written for a while---my soul has been vexed by storms of longing, awareness, and conflict as I’ve grappled with my relationship to LDS theology, feminist awakenings, and my responsibility as a woman and as a mother to a daughter. I am not alone in these storms. My inbox has been frequented by messages from women who share with me their expansive awakening of their own selves and their potential, of their connection to the divine, and of a raw and hungry desire, simply put, that their daughters be given “more” than what was offered to them as a girl. These emails are full of emotion and tangible energy, and I do not doubt that this awakening is happening globally.
The women who share these experiences also express fear---fear that this energy, for them, has no sanctioned place to exist. Fear that talking about these desires will “out” them from the circle of orthodoxy, placing them within apostate territory. Yet, for all these women, it seems that silence is no longer an option---that the energy burning within them must give birth to itself, to the creation of a better world, lest it be contained and become a destructive force. The heat of this energy pushes these women to MOVE---and how they move is through their words, and my words are just one voice among multitudes.
A few years back, I attended a Priesthood ordination for a nephew of mine. The room was packed with supportive uncles, male cousins, and grandfathers who surrounded this young man in the act of ordaining him to Priesthood office. The scene was beautifully powerful, and yet, as I was scrolling through the photos of the event, looking at the dozen or so men surrounding my nephew in the photos, the reality stared me starkly in the face that none of my nieces who had attended in support of their cousin/brother would ever experience such a matriarchal presence in recognition and confirmation of their spiritual progression. Such an occasion simply doesn’t exist in our church. Had any of the men present made that connection as they gazed in the vibrant brown eyes of their daughters---of my nieces? Were they aware of this imbalance in church culture, and if they were, did they care?
I had forgotten the bittersweet feelings of that memory until recently, another nephew was advanced to the Priesthood and the same ceremonial rituals occurred. Once again, the women took a backseat as “the brethren” celebrated this young man. My mother’s heart felt heavy as I thought, “what message is this sending to my nieces? What message will this send to my daughter when she is old enough to understand that this world of celebratory Priesthood progress is exclusive, and she will never be a part of it?”
Growing up, whenever the phrase “the brethren” was used to insinuate final authority, my mother used to snarkily whisper under her breath, “well what about the sisteren!?” While I always found her covert rebellion funny, I also found myself somewhat nervous of the humor, certain that God was frowning at my mother and I as we giggled, making light of the sacred. Then of course there was the occasional actual frowning coming from my good but sometimes over-conservative father, with the occasional eye roll.
The reality is that the constant use of gendered language in relation to God, church authority, and as found in scriptural passages smacks in the face of the idea of “progressing” our theology. Our girls need to see themselves reflected in church leadership, in general conference addresses, in preparing and performing ordinances, in prayer language, and in celebrated ritual surrounding rites of passage that we ceremoniously preform for our boys and men. Likewise, our boys need to see our girls in these capacities, standing in their deserved space of recognition and influence. This needed balancing of church structure would set our youth to a healthy path of interdependence, illuminating in ways not yet tapped the power of men and women working together.
It has been suggested that if a more defined theology of the “mother” God were to be brought about, it may fall on the shoulders of women to produce that theology.[1] As a Mormon woman in academia, I know well the reality of the seeming impossibility of women progressing the theology of the mother God---at least, within orthodox circles.
Eliza R. Snow is credited for formally penning creative content that reflects a mother in heaven, and yet, beyond knowing that “she” exists, LDS theology is void of any kind of tangible or attributed description from which one could potentially conceive of her--- possibly “them” (note that I am not a fan of this view, but LDS theology does allow for it) ---and instead of feeling peace about this doctrine, those who hunger to know more are often left feeling frustrated, silenced, patronized, and gaslighted.[2]
Perhaps you have heard of the quote, “before I was a wife and a mother, I was myself.” Author Sue Monk Kidd points out that many balk at the idea of a Goddess, finding the term “mother God” or “Heavenly Mother” more palatable. This, I believe, is because in our Judeo/Christian paradigm, we are incredibly uncomfortable associating a woman with her own identity. Rather, traditionally, she has always been who she is “in relation to” a male figure. Mother, daughter, wife---all approved titles with appropriate male connections.
When is the last time you heard the title Goddess uttered in an LDS context? Truly, if you have a reference, send it my way. The idea of the Goddess implies that she is divine in and through herself. That her divinity exists independent of a male counterpart; she is her own authority---a powerful, independent agent. While I embrace the idea of a “Divine Mother,” in order for her potency to catch hold in society, we must allow her to embody her own space, separate from “the Father God.” Words matter. Traditional scriptural narrative surrounding God allows both identities---one of autonomy, and one that is relational. So too must we allow such space for the Goddess.
Interestingly enough, careful reading of the Biblical text reflects not only that the title “God” is gender neutral, but it is also plural. Additionally, the Old Testament is full of feminine language used to describe the attributes of God, and in Rabbinical literature, the very presence and glory of God (Shekinah in Hebrew) is a female noun. One particular Hebrew name for God, “El Shaddai,” has a linguistic connection to breasts---thus, it is not surprising that Isaiah used such poetic language relating to lactation when describing God’s commitment to creation (Isaiah 49:15).
So how then do we as Latter-day Saints embrace this reality and infuse these truths in our daughters? How do we teach them that their identity is divine, regardless of their status in connection to a patriarchal figure? How do we do what Dr. Valerie Hudson suggested and as women, expand the theology of a female deity?
The need for such action is alarmingly relevant as we see youth and young adults increasingly disenchanted with the patriarchal structure of church authority. As a former religious education instructor, I saw the passion for a more balanced leadership structure within the young adults I taught as we discussed the future of the church. Their lived experience seemed to be the educator that emphasized the critical nature and powerful reality of mature cooperation between genders as opposed to the enforcement of male authority through “presiding” roles.
Yet, while encouraged by the youth, I continued to feel somewhat of a glass ceiling as an LDS woman in the realm of religious/theological academia because it was constantly made clear to me that, as one mentor told me with a sigh, “we mustn’t find ourselves getting ahead of the brethren.” The very reinforcement of the gendered term “brethren” triggered a kind of cognitive dissonance in me that has continued to live in both my brain and in my soul.
Despite the dissonance, my lived experience says change is coming.
In 2013, when the headline-grabbing “Ordain Women” movement was at its peak, the very term seemed to be ignominious and anathema in orthodox circles. I was hired on to teach at BYU in 2014, and I will always remember the elation of possibility I felt when I stumbled across an interview done with the then current department chair of Ancient Scripture, Camille Fronk Olson. When asked what she thought about the movement, this high-profile woman responded, “I would say Kate Kelly and Ordain Women, the questions they have asked, the courage they have exhibited, the discomfort they have created, has all contributed to greater discussion that for many people, has brought to the forefront that there is something that is, that has not been addressed…”[3]
With that memory in mind, I see small fires of inquiry being lit amongst diverse circles of thought and affiliation both within and outside the church. I believe those fires of inquiry will continue to shine light on the importance of this grander narrative as we see a growing acceptance of “Goddess” dialogue within LDS circles. The very longing to know Her is, I believe, the very catalyst that will usher in this advanced theology, and the “fear” surrounding that narrative will be less than the unquenchable fires of inquiry that drive it.
[1] https://faithmatters.org/women-in-the-church-a-conversation-with-valerie-hudson/ [2] Ibid. [3] https://archive.sltrib.com/article.php?id=58353062&itype=cmsid (see link to full video in text)
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