|Loss - Richard Young|
I went to Sunday School today.
I should have left as soon as I realized who was teaching. I know the way this woman thinks, the way she in unable of seeing any opinion other than her own as valid and thinks any person whose values differ even slightly from the church's is just a little bit less human. I should have just walked out, but I didn't.
So it's almost entirely my own fault that within five minutes of sitting down I was slapped in the face with a diatribe about how 'God used Prop 8 to begin sifting the church' and vague discriminancies against democrats and tactless implications that, you know those people who leave the church? --well, we don't really want them anyway.
The irony is that today's lesson was basically about the Pride Cycle and about how 'amazing' it was the the Nephites kept repeating it over and over and over again.
And I sat there in the back thinking, Can everyone else here really not see this? With your holier-than-thou moral codes and your persecution complexes, can you really not realize how hypocritical you sound? 99.897%* of the world's population was deemed 'unrighteous' with a few sentences, and nobody said anything in objection. The integrity and virtue and intelligence of thousands of God's children was called into question, and nobody stood up to disagree. But can I place the blame for that on the members of the class, when I was one of the silent ones? I had more reason than maybe anyone else in the room to speak up is disagreement or walk away, and yet I didn't. In the interest of just getting through the block as quickly as possible and not calling attention to myself and my rapidly declining ability to deal with church-shit, I helped to perpetuate one of the things I hate most in the world.
Instead of saying anything, I spent the Sunday School period in reflection: wondering how serious of a sin it is for me to be glad the sister teaching the lesson is still unmarried at age thirty-four and therefore lacks any children to whom she could pass her prejudices. A distinctly un-Christian sentiment, I know, and I feel a little bit bad about it. But not enough to try to be a more charitable person in the near future.
Church was mostly salvaged by the story my new fellow-librarian told me about a friend of hers who got married to a man she barely knew at Burning Man this year, and by spending Sacrament Meeting re-writing Lamentations 3 with feminine pronouns.
I am the woman that hath seen affliction by the rod of her wrath. She hath led me, and brought me into darkness, but not into light. Surely against me is she turned; she turneth her hand against me all the day. My flesh and my skin hath she made old; she hath broken my bones. She hath builded against me, and compassed me with gall and travail. She hath set me in dark places, as they that be dead of old. She hath hedged me about, that I cannot get out: she hath made my chain heavy. Also when I cry and shout, she shutteth out my prayer.Fascinating.
* An educated guesstimation. LDS Church membership officially rests just over 14 million. I'm guessing that about 55% of those, or a little more than 7 million, are active/faithful members who therefore fit this sister's 'good person' definition--just a smidge over 0.1 percent. (/fun with applied mathematics)
Sweet Honey in the Rock - 'On Children'