Yay! I finished a book. It seems I do that so infrequently lately, but yesterday during nap time I managed to finish Joanna Brooks'
The Book of Mormon Girl. I want to pick out a few specific points about the book that really touched me, but first, I'd like to write a little bit about how I first came across Joanna Brooks.
About two years ago, I finished my first Women and Gender Studies class. I had just found out I was pregnant and knew that after my graduation, I would become a full time parent. To keep my feminism alive and going, I decided to start this blog (Happy Birthday on the 17th). I needed some extra information if I was going to take this on, however. I mean, how many feminist Mormons could there be? That's when Google led me to
Ask Mormon Girl, Joanna Brooks' website where she answers questions like Dear Abby for Mormon progressives. When I read her posts and responses to many questions I had myself, I felt so... hopeful. Maybe I could be a good church member and still be me.
Then I bought her book,
The Book of Mormon Girl. And it was amazing. So much so that instead of writing a short review that discusses again and again how wonderful I thought it was, I am going to pull some quotes that I particularly enjoyed. This does not summarize the book in any way because the post would go on for days. These are simply my favorite take-aways.
"'You'll be fine,' Sister Bryson would say, sensing my fear that I had done it all wrong, read wrong, thought wrong, loved wrong, married wrong, lost my way. 'You'll be fine,' she would say, resting her hand on mine, 'because you are searching for truth, and truth is what matters.'"
Since converting, I have heard it from both sides of the fence why I am wrong. Why I am in trouble. On the non-Mormon front I am told I am letting this church dictate my life. I am letting them tell me what I can and can't do, who I can and can't be. On the Mormon side I am told I lack faith enough, love for my Savior enough. I am told I lack knowledge and understanding. There is often been little peace from either side. As a convert, I felt, and sometimes still feel, that I do not have a spiritual home- religious, yes, but spiritual, no. The loving words that Sister Bryson imparts, "You'll be fine...because you are searching for truth..." are the ultimate encouragement. You're not a failed Saint.
"It is not a doughnut.
It is not a rose.
It is not a plank of wood.
It is not a bus without brakes.
It is not a pearl on a golden chain, nor is it a millstone.
It is neither a fragile treasure nor a heavy burden.
It is nothing that can be damaged, lost, or given away.
It is not an it.
You, your body, your self-you are not an object lesson.
You are an ancient spirit in a young body. You will make choices."
In the chapter leading up to this, Joanna Brooks recounts many of the object lessons taught to her as a youth. My favorite was the one about the white rose. She and her fellow Young Women passed around a white rose, smelling and touching it. After everyone had a turn, the leader explained that everyone would prefer a new, fresh rose to the wilted one everyone had handled. And thus it was also with your virginity. I love that Joanna Brooks addresses the object lesson. Life is so much more fluid and dimensional than a simple object lesson. It is also a lot more personal. From the gospel I was taught, you are never ruined with the atonement of Christ. Rather, we learn from our mistakes and continue on trying to be better selves.
"I hold my tongue, but I also hold my seat. This is a church inhabited by people willing to give up their own children for being gay. This is also the church of Millie Watts and the church of my grandmothers. This is a church of tenderness and arrogance, of sparking differences and human failings. There is no unmixing the two."
This gives me courage to stay seated in my classes when the point has gone awry. I have heard from many people that a problem they see is that the lesson strays from Christ, and I agree. When this happens- when we begin discussing wars and politics and superfluous thoughts that are not even tangential to Christ, I want to leave. Not leave the room, leave the building. In the first sentence, this quote reminds me not to be bullied (not by people and not by ideas). Keep my seat. I belong here, too. There is good and bad and we take it together.
"I don't want to blame anyone. I want to do what my ancestors did: look west and dream up a new country for my children... I want a faith as welcoming as a Pioneer Day dinner table set with a thousand cream-of-chicken-soup casseroles and wedding-present Crock-Pots, a table with room enough for everyone: male and female, black and white, gay and straight, perfect and imperfect, orthodox or unorthodox, Mormon, Jew, or gentile."
This final quote pulls out a Mormonism that I envision. The wonderful things when Mormons come together with love and celebration (which is absolutely overflowing at celebrations). The wonderful values seen in families. The service when there are people in need. Combine these with acceptance and room for everyone at the table. Without judgment. After all, isn't that what our Maker is for?
This book gave me hope. It made me feel like I still belong, unorthodox and all. As far as a book review, I would recommend this to anyone who has grown up in the LDS church, anyone who has ever had a faith crisis, anyone who is grasping or clinging to a religion that felt like home. Five stars.
