Each Life That Touches Ours for Good
Posted on Jun 22, 2014 by Trevor in Religion
Update 1/4/2020: Many of the points made in this post still stand, but I felt the need to put an addendum. The two people referenced in this post have become rather insufferable in their public comportment since I initially wrote this, so I want to be sure to distance myself from that sort of thing.
So goes the familiar Mormon hymn:
Each life that touches ours for good
Reflects thine own great mercy, Lord.
Forgive me for the personal nature of this post, but my heart can’t keep silent on this. Two people in my church–one I know and one I don’t–are being threatened with excommunication.
Why should this matter to me?
John Dehlin
Dehlin especially, but more recently Kelly, became the symbols and bearers of hope to the marginalized, the nonconformists, the square pegs in a church of round holes. As torchbearers to those of us who ask whether we really do belong, the treatment that Dehlin or Kelly receive (whether at the hands of the church’s top leaders, their local leaders, or other Mormons) sends a strong message that reaches far and wide and impacts far more people than just the two of them and their families.
We need more people like them in the church, not fewer. Every loss weakens the body of Christ. There are no winners in this. Only losers.
Dehlin created a safe space for people like me to explore the big soul-probing questions. He provided a platform for a wide range of people with views all across the spectrum to discuss how they viewed all things spiritual. This diversity in thought, thanks to Dehlin and people like him, has played a huge role in the fact that I still call myself a Mormon today. He helped give me a lifeline to connect me to my religious heritage when I needed it most. He, his endless parade of interviewees, and the community that formed around them showed me that if there was a place in the church for them, there was a place for me, too. And not only just a place to sit idly, but a place where my unique experiences and outlook might be valuable to serve my religious community.
Kate Kelly
I’ve never met Kate Kelly, who’s been in the public eye for only a little over a year now, so her ambitions didn’t quite resonate with me the same. But I still recognize how many people out there felt she was speaking for them and giving them a voice they’d never had. Kelly, to me, represents that bold, fearless, hunger-after-truth, pioneering Spirit of those early Mormons who crossed the plains better than pretty much any Mormon around today.
Your own opinion on this whole sad episode shouldn’t be about whether you agree with Dehlin or Kelly. This should about whether we as a religious community will choose to build Zion as a diverse community where our different views make us stronger, or as a narrow, monolithic country club for people who think and act exactly the same. If we are too weak and fragile to handle honest disagreements, sincere explorations of faith, and different perspectives, we don’t deserve to call ourselves Zion. If what Dehlin and Kelly have been doing constitutes “damage” to the institution, what a terribly weak institution it must be. As J. Reuben Clark put it, “If we have the truth, it cannot be harmed by investigation. If we have not the truth, it ought to be harmed.”
Hope
When Dieter Uchtdorf recently said, “Regardless of your circumstances, your personal history, or the strength of your testimony, there is room for you in this Church,” it gave many of us a resurgence of hope. As Joanna Brooks put it, “Over the past decade, a whole generation of Mormons has held out the hope that the religion we love can become more diverse and welcoming and meet its 21st-century challenges with openness and confidence.” Thanks to a good congregation, good local leaders, and a great neighborhood, I’ve been living out that hope.
Hope is so important. But I can’t emphasize enough how much the eviction of people like Dehlin or Kelly crushes that hope. Will it turn out that Uchtdorf’s sunny, expansive vision of a church headed into a bright new day is but the view of a man in the minority? My fear is that a church that isn’t big enough to accommodate Dehlin and Kelly isn’t big enough to accommodate me either. It’s absolutely gut-wrenching. And the chilling effects of these punitive measures might not be easily measurable. I anticipate a subtle escalation of animosity in church settings towards those who identify as feminists or LGBT allies. Bishops and stake presidents everywhere will feel more comfortable rolling out disciplinary procedures of their own, now that a “precedent” has been set. Scholars who research areas of church doctrine that make leaders uncomfortable will be looking over their shoulders, wondering if they’re next.
Already I’ve seen hosts of Mormons, even some friends, mock Dehlin and Kelly. “Good riddance,” they say with stunning callousness. Or they celebrate punitive/disciplinary courts as “courts of love”, failing to recognize that someone’s baptismal and temple sealing ordinances are about to be annulled. It’s very hard not to take this very personally, let alone understand why a good Christian could say such things about two people who are ostensibly their brother and sister and fellow children of God. Do they realize that each idle word they speak like this makes me feel less welcome?
“Each life that touches ours for good / Reflects thine own great mercy, Lord.”
Please remember that these two people have touched literally tens of thousands of lives for good. They are my brother and sister, and I need them in the church.
