Once upon a time I bounced ideas around with a group of people who wanted to tell the history of the Church through vivid stories and in the words of Saints of the past. One day one of the men brought in some letters written by Phoebe Woodruff. He was very excited about them – this was a great way, he thought, to show the contribution of women in the words of a woman. Phoebe had written to Wilford about caring for the children and taking care of the family’s clothing and cooking meals while Wilford was away on a mission. This, my colleague enthused, showed that Phoebe had made it possible for Wilford to serve a mission.
I was much less enthusiastic about framing that as sacred history. Yes, Phoebe had picked up the slack while Wilford served elsewhere, but I couldn’t see cooking and cleaning and childcare as religious service. Phoebe – any woman – didn’t do those things as a religious duty. Women do those things because we are human. Phoebe would have cooked and cleaned and cared for her children even if Wilford had been at home every night. Her actions were virtuous, but did they necessarily constitute sacred history?
Human beings create narratives to give meaning and purpose to routine human activities. When I give a piece of Halloween candy to a trick-or-treater who is too old to be trick-or-treating, I tell myself I am helping a teenager enjoy one last bit of childhood before he leaves it all behind forever. A boy with a wagon in 1942 who collected tin cans didn’t think of himself only as collecting tin cans – he was a patriot soldier helping to win the war. Parents don’t merely bring home paychecks or change diapers – they are building eternal families. The most routine task can be holy, when you weave a narrative of sacred service around it.
That can even be true for a young woman who is tasked with handing out towels in the temple baptistry and directing temple patrons through a maze of doors and hallways, as we learned yesterday will soon be roles offered to the Young Women of the Church. The temple is a holy place, and every act of service therein is sacred service, on some level. The solemnity in and reverence for the temple will be a novel experience for many young women, and may provide them one of their first unmistakable experiences of the divine. They will need to be worthy of their recommends. It’s a responsibility that even a young girl can take very seriously.
With the right narrative to frame the experience, a young woman’s service can have far greater meaning than “doing the laundry.”
I also wholeheartedly sustain the new opportunity for young men, priests in the Aaronic priesthood, to stand in the font and baptize those who serve as proxies for the dead, and to testify as witnesses that the ordinances were done, and were done correctly. My enthusiasm for this new role is partly for the extension of the service young men can render, but also, and perhaps more importantly, because this consistency between what priests can do in the mundane world, and what they can now do in the precincts of the temple, seems to me to be a step forward in the full organization of the Church. It sounds right, it feels right, for the duties of a priest to be the duties of a priest, full stop.
So when I find the new role for Young Women to be potentially a positive and rewarding service, and I find the new responsibilities of priests to be a definite step forward, why am I uneasy about the assignments? Well, because they are paired by the announcement, as if they were equivalent.
They are not equivalent.
Nobody has to construct a narrative to see the sacredness of the priests’ new opportunities. That sacredness is intrinsic to the service. It’s spelled out in scripture. It is mandated by revelation. You can’t separate the holiness from the act itself – there is no baptism for the remission of sins in any non-sacred sense or in any secular setting.
But at the same time, there is no intrinsic sacredness in the activities to be performed by Young Women. Just like Phoebe Woodruff would have cooked and cleaned whether or not Wilford was on a mission, people who get wet need towels, wet towels need to be collected and laundered, and it’s only common courtesy to point the way to any person in any location who seems unsure of his path. So we have to create a narrative of sacred service to imbue the Young Women’s duties with any element of sacredness: It’s sacred because it takes place in the temple. It’s sacred because the performer must have demonstrated worthiness. It’s sacred because it is supportive of the performance of sacred ordinances. But its sacredness comes from the narrative we weave around it, not from its own value: We have to work to create it, we have to work to maintain it, and we have to anticipate girls’ inevitable recognition that there is a vast difference in the nature of service rendered by men and women.
Just as the new consistency in the role of priests is, in my view, a step toward perfecting the organization of the Church, I suspect that there are other steps to come that will offer women, and single adults, and other marginal members of the Church, more consistency in our participation. The opportunities offered to men and women needn’t be – almost certainly won’t be – identical, and I don’t have any idea what form those opportunities will take, but I believe we will one day have opportunities that are intrinsically sacred, without the need to construct a narrative that makes us feel they are sacred. I have to believe that. I believe that God loves me; I know that he knows me; I know that there is purpose to my life and service I could render … if only the Church knew it and had any place for me. It’s my narrative, and I’m sticking to it.
-oOo-
This may be a good place to remind readers about Keepa’s commenting norms. Keepa is for believing members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and those who are willing to treat our beliefs seriously. It is not a place to insult or complain about the Church or its leaders or practices. There are topics I’d like to address but where I have remained silent because I don’t want to host the kind of conversation that begins with discomfort or a question – like this post – and invites commenters to add their own complaints, each one vying to top the last. If you comment – and I hope you will – please find some approach that does not condemn or unduly criticize. No snark. No contempt.
And I know before the first comment comes in that someone will inevitably say he sees nothing wrong with treating men and women differently, or nothing inequitable in the new assignments. Fine. If you don’t see it, you don’t see it. That doesn’t necessarily mean that it isn’t there; it only means that you can’t see it. There’s no need to confess that publicly.
-oOo-
Related post: Women as Temple Witnesses in Living Memory: What I Know and What I Don’t Know
As usual, very thoughtful and helpful. Thanks, Ardis.
Thanks, Gary. I try. It isn’t always easy.
And rightfully so, because it’s a good faithful forward-looking narrative.
Thank you, Ardis. I was somewhat surprised by my gut response(s) to the announcement. Having worked with the young women for many years and attended more than a dozen temple trips as a leader, and now as the mother of three boys, I was both pleased and disappointed. I will be processing it for a while yet, and your thoughts here help.
This is well-articulated Truth with a capital T.
You’re right—it’s about the pairing as if they’re equal.
I was overjoyed to see your work in the Trib article on this. It reminded me of my sincere belief that you need to be hired full time by the Church History Dept to keep doing exactly what you’ve been doing and get more of these little details (which often aren’t so little) through to more people.
Thank you, Ardis.
Well put. I agree that priests should be priests, and I like your description of the need to serve in “intrinsically sacred” roles.
I think I’d have mixed feelings about this announcement even without the paired announcement about roles for girls — mainly due to the absence of intrinsically sacred participating roles for adult women. It feels a bit like telling a boy to be the “man of the house” even though his mother is home.
Maybe part of that is more general discomfort with boy priests. I have the same issue with boys administering the sacrament: it’s a wonderful opportunity to serve, and it’s what priests should be doing, but what about the adult women in the room? But also, if we don’t have boy priests, we won’t have priests at all — there are too many good reasons for ordained adults to be elders rather than priests.
I hope that this is one step towards providing more opportunities for intrinsically sacred service, for adult women too. In particular, while performing a baptism would require ordination, I don’t see any scriptural mandate for those who witness or record baptisms to be ordained. That seems to be a policy that could be changed without a major revelation.
This is a better and more nuanced response than I would have given. The whole witness thing is odd to me, because as far as I recall, when you are acting as a witness at Temple baptisms, your name as witness is not recorded. I do see this development as baby steps, but good grief. What girl in the YW organization won’t see the pairing of these and wonder, “Where’s the blessing for me?” (paraphrasing Jane Manning James.)
Well said, Ardis.
I may be the only one, but I’m uneasy with extending authority for baptizing the dead to the Aaronic priesthood. The D&C clearly gives to the Aaronic priesthood the “outward” ordinances and temporal affairs, reserving “administering in spiritual things,” to the MP (D&C 107). I don’t think there’s any scriptural basis in our current understanding of the Gospel to give 16- and 17-year-old boys the authority to “bind on earth and in heaven,” which baptisms for the dead require (128:7)
On the other hand, those who make these decisions know far more about the gospel than I do. Plus, the sons of Aaron did officiate in the temple anciently (although there were no vicarious ordinances performed), so there is some precendent. Maybe this is how Peter felt being told eat the unclean beasts and take the Gospel to the Gentiles.
Maybe this is all leading up to the Church declaring that women DO have the priesthood, or that they can officiate in the temple without needing to receive the Melchizedek priesthood. (Threadjack, I know…)
As one of my friends said after a meeting for the seven-turning-eight-year-olds, where Cub Scouts and Activity Days were both outlined, “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.” It hurts. The lack of equally meaningful opportunities for children and youth hurts. I work through one facet of the issue and then another is revealed. I know God loves them all. I know God sees the potential in them all. The programs and policies are just not showing that love and recognition of potential.
Thanks for a great thought-provoking article.
When I cared for my father on his deathbed a few years ago, my tasks were very mundane — but I saw it as a sacred service. When I sat with my mother last week, it was a sacred service. I understand Phoebe Woodruff’s perspective.
TOC, I wondered if anyone here would feel that way. I certainly heard some earnest explanations about “outward” ordinances to justify the former policy, and I imagine some people I care about are now quietly revising what they believe, having realized that their logic was reasonable, but ultimately incorrect.
At the same time, that explanation never sat right with me. Baptism for the living is as binding, in heaven and in earth, as baptism for the dead. Also, the requirement in Section 128 looks to me like it’s more about recording the ordinance, than about performing it — and delegation of the recording duties is explicitly contemplated, with the requirements being more about accurate recordkeeping than about sealing power.
Also, if baptism for the dead is a non-outward MP ordinance, being an elder should be sufficient — but you used to have to be endowed as well. However, if power to baptize for the dead is conferred in the endowment, than endowed women should be able to do it. It makes a lot more sense to me to say that a person who has “been commissioned” by Christ to baptize can baptize.
Mike, I appreciate the sensitive response. The leap is causing whiplash, I suppose.
As some have already mentioned (in the Trib column, IIRC) (re)opening the position of temple witness to youth would have been a more logical leap. (After all, the endowment requires at least one witness who must be female.)
I recognize that “the Lord will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.” Still, my generation was repeatedly taught that the root cause of the apostasy was changing the ordinances and administering them without the proper authority. There’s a fine line between the two that my (spiritual) eyes can’t quite see.
I know it isn’t much, and it certainly isn’t equal to the level of what men are asked to do in the temple, but it does require a temple-endowed woman to officiate in the initiatory area as well as at the veil. I view both of these as intrinsically sacred participating roles for adult women.
For the young women, Ardis is precisely correct: the sacredness of the role is the sort that is constructed, and in some ways, it is kind of weird to pair the announcements like that.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how Jesus told the Nephites that the Lamanites had gotten the gift of the Holy Ghost without realizing it– which means to me that there were not hands laid on their heads to perform a sacred ordinance. I have begun to wonder about “back doors” to sacredness.
Undoubtedly this is at least partly traceable to the fact that I’m coming up on forty, unmarried, quite poor, but at least doing good in the world and pleased about that. Two of my closest friends in the world, who ARE married and have higher incomes than myself (though this latter really isn’t hard) were recently called as Relief Society Presidents. Do I want that kind of responsibility? Well, no. But it would be nice to know that I could be trusted, though I am poor and single and at times socially awkward.
I also think a lot about my dad, who has never been anything more important than a ward clerk or a high priest’s group leader (whichever you think is higher), and yet was a truly top-notch home teacher for decades. He’s now so frail that most of his time is spent sleeping, though a significant percentage of his waking hours is spent making his youngest grandchildren happy.
I’m sorry– I apologize if all this seems like fake-o rationalizing from someone who is trying to make her own self and her family seem important. Maybe that’s true. At the same time, I’ve had a growing feeling that sometimes at least, leadership callings are given on the basis of who needs an ego boost, as opposed to who will do the work no matter what; that this is the Lord’s way.
I’ve always been baffled by the need for endowed brethren to serve as witnesses at temple sealings and was required to try and rope in a couple of willing helpers for one recently. I really don’t see why to merely observe (or, in most cases, fall asleep) should be considered a priesthood duty. Actually, now that I’ve written that sentence, it makes complete sense. Never mind.
Once again your clear and thoughtful analysis helps me calm down and process through my feelings when I’ve got my dander up. Thanks.
Ardis, your insight constantly amazes me! You’ve made the most rational and nuanced argument I’ve heard re: these new policies. Thank you!
[slow clap] I did not know there were older women like me in the church….
From the language of the Announcement, I see this as an example of revelation following our preparation. This has been made possible by the faithfulness of the Youth in attending the temple.
Recognizing that towels and baptisms are in no way equivalent,
my years as a Clerk have taught me that paperwork can be inherently sacred. That combined with what I have learned about some of the activities that took place in the Kirtland temple and in reading and listening to N.T. Wright on the nature of Temples (Recommend “How God Became King” book/video as a good starting place) leads me think that our understanding of what is inherently sacred may be way to narrow.
I also think that the announcement of the change of Priesthood Prep to to include both boys and girls as a preparatory step to more revelation.