Beware the Third Hour of the Fifth Sunday

I dreaded every Sunday when I was a Mormon, but most of all the fifth Sunday. More specifically, the third hour of the fifth Sunday. Because that's when the bishopric has long held a joint meeting of the Priesthood and Relief Society.

Since the purpose of these meetings is to unify the ward on issues, they almost always take the form of a pompous, demeaning and sometimes borderline terrifying lecture. Because let's face it, when you're a Mormon, you're always doing something wrong. In my day, it was drinking Coke, seeing R-rated films, neglecting your genealogy, or not recognizing the "gay problem." More recently--if you're a woman--it's wearing pants to church.

Case in point. This past Sabbath Day happened to fall on the fifth Sunday in March. Instead of sitting in church, Mark and I were at Sinbad's with our friends Jerry and Cheryl where, over a martini, I read the following email invitation to a horrific fifth Sunday lecture that we could have been experiencing instead. Here is an excerpt:

…this Sunday all wards in our stake will be discussing, as a unified 5th Sunday message, the importance of specific roles that men and women have in the Church and family. As predicted by past prophets, in these last days much agitation and attack against the correct order of things will come from within and without the Church. One example, of which most of us are probably aware of, is the recent protest that the Church has had to fight against our own members who want women to receive the Priesthood. This is against (the) revealed nature of familial relationships.

Isaiah predicted. "And in that day seven women shall take hold of one man, saying, 'We will eat our own bread, and wear our own apparel: only let us be called by thy name, to take away our reproach.'" (Isaiah 4:1)

This prophecy is being fulfilled and it is important that as a stake we weed out such contention and danger. Some of these protesters have demonstrated by showing the independence of women ("We will eat our own bread"), wearing pants to church ("wear our own apparel"), and now ask for the priesthood ("let us be called by thy name"). Each ward this weekend will discuss how to combat such heretical thinking and apostasy that we might strengthen our individual families and better be of one heart and one mind and continue to build Zion among us…

We're looking forward to the many wonderful things happening this weekend in our stake.

Read the entire email here.

See what I mean about the third hour of the fifth Sunday? Just this past week in this and perhaps many stakes throughout Zion, the faithful were forced to endure a terrifying harangue about weeding out "contention and danger"--all because their fearless leaders are terrified of some women in pants.

From where I sit (martini in hand), what's really terrifying is actually having to sit through these third hour horror flicks. The only thing they could do to make them scarier would be to lock all the doors at the beginning and then cut the house lights at the end. Like Hitchcock did with Psycho.

But then the terror is only beginning.  This weekend is General Conference.

In happier news, Jono reviewed  False Prophet this week. Also, he reviewed  The Girls from Fourth Ward! I'd seen his review of The Girls on Amazon, but not on his excellent blog, Otto's Son, a site that mixes wisdom and humor with gorgeous photographs of both his home and his travels.

And speaking of excellent blogs, if you like Ward Gossip you'll love Sheep Dip. With the tagline, "telling you what to think so you don't have to," Sheep Dip is a marvelous new home for Mormon-themed satire. Check it out here.

We must support each other in the arts. (And stay away from terrifying church meetings.)

Another Year On Ward Gossip

Perhaps fittingly, 2013 began here on Ward Gossip with my take on the historical interpretations of a certain straight white male representative from Utah who, thanks to his painstakingly thorough research, was able to recreate this otherwise unknown episode during the U.S.Constitutional Convention:

Silas Baxter trudged toward home. He was about the business of forming the constitution. 

Standing for righteousness. Liberty. Freedom. The American way.

She was waiting at the doorway, a cotton shawl around her shoulders. "Hi honey, how was your day?" 

"Very discouraging. Mr. Franklin insists on abolishing slavery, while the delegates from the South refuse to give it up. I'm torn between the two sides."

She nodded and made that little pouty face that always drove him wild. "Oh honey, you're such a softy. Feeling sorry for the poor slaves. But shouldn't your first concern be straight white men?"

Turned out 2013 was a pretty darned frustrating for the straight white men who run the LDS Church.

It started with the women who resented Sister Elaine Dalton's remarks in her January 15th Devotional at BYU:

"Young women, you will be the ones who will provide the example of virtuous womanhood and motherhood. You will continue to be virtuous, lovely, praiseworthy and of good report. You will also be the ones to provide an example of family life in a time when families are under attack, being redefined and disintegrating. You will understand your roles and your responsibilities and thus will see no need to lobby for rights." 

Shaken by the realization that LDS sisters seemed to believe they should have rights, the straight white guys rushed to make amends by announcing that the first woman would give a prayer in the April General Conference.

Then, just as the old white guys were breathing a sigh of relief, the whole gay thing blew up again, this time when a disobedient young man was denied the opportunity to serve a mission because he couldn't support the LDS Church's stand on gay marriage, a scandal that inspired the following policy:

"Don't tell your stake president that you disagree with the way the LDS Church treats gays, feminists, and intellectuals--and he won't ask."

But in spite of their outreach to women and progressive new policies, the straight white men in Salt Lake City sensed an evil intellectual trend, a tendency toward tolerance--even in places like Abbottsville, CA:

(The Abbottsville) Ward Preparedness team has been hard at work monitoring ward telephone lines, members' emails, and local LDS chat rooms. Over the past 24 hours, we've detected a shocking number of tolerant-leaning chatter. Here are some of the conversational "red flags" we've uncovered:

• "Shouldn't the job go to the one who's the most qualified?"
• "Have any new ideas?"
• "But it's what's inside a person that counts."
• "It's really none of our business."
• "Why don't we put it to a vote?"
• "She makes a lot of sense."

No doubt these fiendish intellectual uprisings led to the necessity of the Gay Deconversion Badge, Boyd K. Packer's rewrite of the Beatitudes, the church-wide survey on doubt, the demise of DOMA and Prop 8, and the subsequent unrest that drove the persecuted straight white men into brawls in their church parking lots.

Then it was those pesky women again, still wanting to wear pants to church, and even attend the October General Priesthood Session! 

Around that time, I published my new book, False Prophet. -- A sequel to The Girls From Fourth Ward, it includes a scene where Lieutenant Ryan manages to go through a session in the Mormon temple! 

Upon completion of such an accomplishment, I did what any sensible person would do, I left the country. 

So I missed the hoopla around the October General Conference, the thwarted efforts of Ordain Women, Dallin Oak's mean scolding of singles, divorcees, and gays, and Dieter Uchtdorf's deranged plea for members to "doubt their doubts."  

Instead, I got my inspiration from the sides of London's buses.

And that brings us back to those annoying gays, who the courts now insist are allowed to get married. Even in Utah. 

It's been the kind of a year that might even drive the straight white guys in Salt Lake to admit they've made a few mistakes. Well, almost.

But before you declare yourselves "People of the Year," remember, straight white guys, Ward Gossip hasn't all been about you. 

We've celebrated a joyous birth and mourned a tragic death. We've had some fun parties, a great conference, other great reads from the Mormon Alumni Association including works by Johnny Townsend, Michael Oborn, Lawrence Pratt, Micah McAllister, and the amazing anthology, Latter-Gay Saints. Sadly, none were selections for the Relief Society Book Club. We celebrated the 200th anniversary of Pride and Prejudice ("BYU without the sex"), and discussed complex topics like humility, and Mormon exceptionalism. Elder Young continued his efforts in France, Ruthie Renfro plugged away at her MRS, and the sisters in Abbottsville Fourth managed to endure another Mothers Day. Tea Party Republicans continued to entertain, as did the Abbottsville Single Adults, and BYU student life--recently with the introduction of "Caffeine on Campus." I celebrated my 200th post here in June, and my blogger friends kept cranking out stellar stuff along my blogroll. Also, I had lots of fun over on Ex-Mormon Mavens and Main Street Plaza.

Thank you, Gentle Readers. I see a great New Year in our future! And more frustration for the straight white guys.

The Annual Super Bowl/Brodie Award Post

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Donna Banta
Subject: Yet another sin-filled Fast Sunday and/or why we have them.

Dear Abbottsville Fourth,

Once again, while you were sitting half-starved in Fast and Testimony Meeting, apologizing to everyone you've offended and promising yourselves you wouldn't cry, the San Francisco Post-Mormons were living it up in the City! This time at a Super Bowl party at our house!

The main dish, Julia Child's Boeuf Bourguignon, was prepared ahead of time by the Ecole Des 3 Gourmandes, aka Sarah, Eric and me.

Sarah drying the beef

Eric assembling the stew

Then there was the usual lightmindedness, loud laughter, and evil speaking of the self-appointed.

Brace yourself A-4 for some of the most evil and unnatural images you have ever witnessed!

Also there was drinking:

Blurred image thanks to blurred condition of photographer and her subjects

Over the years my dear friends from the Abbottsville Fourth Ward have posed the question, "Why do Ex-Mormons have get togethers?" I actually get that from people who have never been Mormon too, but for an entirely different reason. 

In the case of the LDS believer, the question is rhetorical and not worth the effort of an answer. Every good Mormon in the A-4 already knows that the San Francisco Post-Mormons are card-carrying members of Satan's minions who have banded together to destroy the one and only true church!

One of these minions left her coat at my house

But for the individuals who come from healthy, mainstream religious traditions, the question is sincere, although the answer is somewhat bizarre. You see, there are an alarming number of believing Mormons who cannot fathom the idea of a responsible, thinking adult making a conscientious decision to leave the LDS Church. He/she must be a card-carrying member of Satan's minions who ... well, you get it.

This is also why so many Ex-Mormons write books and blogs. Which is why every year Main Street Plaza hosts the Brodie's!! Ward Gossip has been nominated again in several categories. Even more exciting, my novel, The Girls From Fourth Ward, has been nominated for best LDS themed fiction book!

Also nominated are the talented writers and artists at A Post-Mormon Life, The Gay Dot, ExMormon Reddit, ExMormon Hymnal, Runtu's Rincon, Wheat and Tares, The LDS Stake President, Irresistable (Dis)grace, Letters from A Broad, FLAK, Feminist Mormon Housewives, ExMormon Mavens, The Cotton Floozy, Polygamy Chic, and too many more to mention!

If you haven't already go HERE and vote in the Brodies! But hurry, polls close today, February 5, at 4:00 p.m. PST (February 6, 1:00 a.m. Swiss time).
  

Review of The Girls by Chanson on Main Street Plaza!

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Donna Banta
Subject: If I do say so myself...

My novel, The Girls From Fourth Ward, got another great review, this time from the talented C.L. Hanson, author of ExMormon. Here's an excerpt:

What if your bishop is a petty tyrant who loves nothing so much as the power he has over other people’s lives. You can’t simply switch to another ward. So, well… Somebody has to off him. But who?

That’s the premise of Donna Banta’s delightfully entertaining and totally Mormon murder mystery The Girls from Fourth Ward.

As I’ve often said, I think the best art achieves universality by rendering with great fidelity a specific milieu. In this case, the story of people lashing out secretly against an authority whom they can’t confront openly could be set in almost any human society, yet the story is enriched by a number of Mormon-specific components . . .

Read the entire review by C.L. Hanson (aka Chanson) here on her popular blog, Main Street Plaza.

(Eat your hearts out Abbottsville Fourth!)

Heaven Up Here by John K. Williams

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Donna Banta
Subject: Another Ward Gossip book review!

Heaven Up Here

by

John K. Williams

I never served an LDS mission. But I have known my share of Mormon missionaries and have viewed them from varying perspectives.

First I watched my friends leave on their missions. Almost all of them were nineteen-year-old boys. When they returned they looked and acted like thirty-five-year-old men. I knew this transformation occurred because they had just come back from a deeply profound and gratifying experience. The reason I knew this was because each one of them stood in Sacrament Meeting and described his mission as being "the best two years of his life."

Later, as a grown-up doubting Mormon, these "thirty-five-year-old men" went back to being boys. --Boys who came to dinner at our house every month and spent the better part of the meal encouraging us to help them annoy our neighbors. 

After that, as an ex-Mormon, I saw them as squirrelly, self-righteous little twits who sometimes compelled me to slam my door in their faces. 

Then in April 2011 I went to Broadway's Eugene O'Neill Theater and watched a couple of adorable goofball Elders do their darndest to win the hearts of a small Ugandan tribe.

Elder Price: Africa is nothing like The Lion King. I think that movie took a lot of artistic license.

Fun romp that it was, The Book of Mormon reminded me of how young and clueless these "thirty-five-year-old boys" really are. While LDS leaders claim that the musical is inaccurate and "anti-Mormon," Parker and Stone's play goes a long way toward showing outsiders why LDS young people choose to serve and complete missions, even when their presence in a culture makes absolutely no sense. Since seeing the play on stage, I've been less inclined to slam my door. I imagine others who have seen it have had a similar change of heart.  

Then last month I read John K. Williams book, Heaven Up Here. And finally, thirty-some years after seeing my friends leave on their missions, I understand why so many come home looking fifteen years older.

Heaven Up Here begins in the pristine setting of Brigham Young University where Williams spends what most college students would consider a bizarrely sober and chaste freshman year. Then, upon receiving a call to serve in Bolivia, he enters the Missionary Training Center where he learns Spanish, memorizes missionary lessons, and is taught that Bolivia is well-equipped with modern conveniences and that the people will beg to be baptized.

Thus prepared, Elder Williams embarks on what he knows will be "the best two years of his life."

His first area is high in the Andes, where he is immediately stricken with altitude sickness. After that he falls prey to various parasites, as do most others in the mission. He describes "brown outs," a slang term for on the spot diarrhea emergencies, and a siege of nausea that causes him to vomit six-inch worms. He endures filthy living conditions, a painful treatment at a horrific medical facility, and dangerous outbursts of political unrest that in one instance almost costs him his life. Such stressful conditions take a toll on many of his companions who grapple with depression, near insanity, and suicidal tendencies. Some of the Elders even drink and become sexually promiscuous. But painful and bizarre as his conditions are, the thought of returning home early is even more painful. So Elder Williams commits to staying the duration, and even lies to his parents about his health and well-being. On top of that, when he is given the opportunity to extend his mission from eighteen months to two years, he immediately agrees.

In spite of the negative experiences, Williams' narrative never presents itself as an expose of Mormon missions, nor does it condemn the LDS Church. It is an elegantly written memoir told in the voice of a believing young man who doesn't rely on tiresome faith-promoting morals. And not all of his experiences are negative.

At what is perhaps the lowest point of the story, Elder Williams glumly realizes that he has completed eighteen months of his mission and could be going home. Soon after that he is transferred to the Bolivian rainforest where he picks cashews off of trees and a macaw alights on his companion's shoulder. The heat is oppressive, but after eighteen months in the country, Elder Williams is used to climate extremes. Also his experience finally enables him to navigate the culture with ease. He interacts with some interesting Bolivian characters, takes shopping trips to Brazil, and has a humorous encounter with a mid-level drug dealer. He spends an unforgettable Christmas with a humble and loving Bolivian family. Then on his last day in the country, he rides a bicycle for the first and only time. It is an ending that is far more faith-promoting than any Sacrament Meeting homecoming talk, and even makes this cynical ex-Mormon feel grateful that Williams decided to extend his mission.

Heaven Up Here is a must read for believing Mormons, ex-Mormons, and anyone who is interested in an honest account of an LDS mission. Hopefully it will encourage more forthcoming stories about Mormon missionaries, as it did postmormon girl recently.

Heaven Up Here is available in both paperback and as an ebook.
Or purchase a signed copy from the author himself at the upcoming Sunstone Symposium July 25-28. I'll be there too signing copies of The Girls, as will C.L. Hanson, author of ExMormon. There will be more great titles on sale from the Mormon Alumni Association as well.

The San Francisco Postmormons Are True!

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Donna Banta
Subject: F&T at the Ferry Building

Just so you know, Abbottsville Fourth, while you were in your stuffy chapel last Sunday declaring the church is true, apologizing to anyone you may have offended, and promising yourselves you wouldn't cry, I was at the San Francisco Ferry Building having TOO MUCH FUN!! So there.

This month there was a surprise party for me! -- In honor of my new book which is now available as both a paperback and as an ebook.

Blurriness due to copious amount of champagne consumed by photographer.

But we didn't just talk books. We moved on to more important matters: Crazy Idaho liquor laws, which of course led to our favorite subject  ... The Next Party!

Our last big do was held at my house -- the ideal environment for a General Conference pot luck.

However next time we're gathering at the hip and happening home of Steve and Sarah -- the ideal environment for (what else) an LDS themed COCKTAIL PARTY! That's right, Abbottsville Fourth, and not the kind you like to throw. Potential concoctions for Steve, our expert mixologist:

Sex on the Tabernacle

Choose the Rye

Wymount Babymaker

Laying on of Hands

Cosmo's Politan

Rum & Kolob

Screwed Wifer

Dirty Moroni

Sexy Garments

Sin and Tonic

Got a good recipe? Kindly leave it in the comment field. -- And Abbottsville Fourth, next month please come to the Ferry Building! (You know you want to.)

Advance "Praise" From The Abbottsville Fourth

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward and my wonderful readers
From: Donna Banta
Subject: One final plug for "The Girls"

My book, The Girls From Fourth Ward, is now available in paperback! Check out the amazing cover art by Insanad:

To order click here -- eBook version coming soon.

Advance Praise for The Girls From Fourth Ward:

"Donna Banta's book is obviously the work of an angry and bitter person who no longer lives the Gospel." -- President Knightly

"Sister Banta must have been offended by a well-meaning ward member. I think I'll take her some of my wife's nut loaf." -- Brother Turley

"The Girls From Fourth Ward is FILTH!" -- Sister Loomis

"I guess I missed the point." -- Bishop Zimmerman

___________________________________

Hmm . . . I think the Fourth Ward is a bit miffed because I've neglected their e-mails for a couple of weeks. Can't say I blame them. No offense guys! I promise that after today I will go back to keeping everyone current with the Mormons in the Abbottsville Fourth Ward. (That is, until you delete me from your e-mail list.)

  

Coming Soon: Abbottsville Fourth Ward Exposed!

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward and the wonderful people who read my blog

From: Donna Banta

Subject: Another excerpt from my soon to be released novel, The Girls From Fourth Ward

Ever wonder why Bishop Loomis was mysteriously murdered? The shocking "true crime" story begins five years earlier.

Excerpt from The Girls From Fourth Ward:

The twelve-year-old swept the wedding gown into her arms. She caressed the white silk, then held the beaded bodice against her spare chest. Her friend appeared, already dressed in a plain square-necked ivory sheath. Another twelve-year-old stood half-zipped in a generic confection reminiscent of the plastic bride atop the wedding cake. The three struck a classic pose in front of the lavish salon mirror.

Sister Carrie Zimmerman captured their image with a click of her camera. Scarcely twenty and heavy with child, her new role as Beehive teacher taxed her strength. Nevertheless, “Sister Z,” as she was known, felt buoyed by this giddy event. The girls exuded the heady excitement of their new phase. Seventh grade, Beehive class, and a glimpse of the ultimate goal in the mirror before them. The Beehive’s bridal dress-up party at Souter’s Formal Wear was an annual tradition in the Abbottsville Fourth Ward.

Jill Spencer, in the square neck, zipped Betsy Miller’s dress, while Sarah Renfro swished her beaded gown to a dressing room.

“Look happy, Jill. It’s your wedding day,” said Sister Z.

Jill possessed an incredibly fresh smile, startling to those only acquainted with her dour composure. Betsy, on the other hand, could rarely be seen without a smile. Then there was brainy Sarah, shy like a new fawn, the last one into the fitting room. Sister Z wasn’t sure which was sweetest.

Three other Beehives joined them. Debbie Mitchell and Francie Lake were eighth-graders, anxious for their fourteenth birthdays and promotion into Mia Maid class. They feigned disinterest, without even a glance at their reflections. Then seventh-grader April Newsome, who was new in the ward, emerged in a whimsical combination of antique lace and flighty diaphanous layers. Sister Z was not surprised to see April in the most sophisticated dress on the rack, nor was she surprised by how well it suited her. Her family had just moved to Abbottsville from the big city of San Francisco.

“Can I wear it with garments?” April asked the mirror.

Sister Delores Souter, a plump, effervescent sort, chortled her reply. “Yes indeedy. I’ve selected only garment friendly dresses,” she said, referring to the sacred underclothes that the girls would wear upon marrying in the Mormon temple.

“I thought we had to wear long sleeves in the temple,” said April.

“You do,” said Sister Souter. “But the temple workers can give you sleeve extensions.”

Sarah stepped from behind the curtain with arms across her breasts. “This is ridiculous. I can’t fill out this top.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear,” Sister Souter said. “You’ll blossom in no time, and be bursting at the seams.”

The girls expressed polite amusement over this. But Sister Souter, who took great pleasure in her own wit, tittered all the way to the stockroom.

Sister Z continued to play paparazzi. They have so much ahead of them, she mused from behind her lens.

“Now for the veils!” Sister Souter trotted back into the room, her hands resembling colossal gauze mitts.

The room was a squall of white mesh. The first choice was never right. They each tried several. Eventually the lace settled, and the girls gathered before the mirror, adjusting their crowns.

“Sister Z,” said Betsy, “where did you meet Brother Z?”

“At Brigham Young University.”

“See,” said April. “The best marriages start there. It’s the gold standard.”

“My LaRue met her sweetheart at the BYU,” said Sister Souter. “And,” her tone turned triumphant, “that’s where I met Brother Souter.”

Sarah nodded. “The smartest boys from the best Mormon families go to BYU.”

“And then make loads of money,” Betsy added.

“BYU,” Jill said. “It’s a no-brainer.”

“Not a no-brainer,” said Francie. “It’s super hard to get in.”

“Why not go to Utah Valley State?” Debbie asked. “They accept everybody, and it’s right next to BYU.”

Sarah yanked up her oversized bodice until it nearly met her chin. “Culturally it’s miles away.”

“Utah Valley State is for losers. Do you want to spend your eternity with a loser?” said April.

Sister Z decided to take advantage of a teaching moment. “Girls, you don’t have to go to BYU. In fact, you don’t have to go to college at all. The man you marry doesn’t need to be smart or rich or from BYU. He only needs to be worthy to marry you in the temple.”

The Beehives nodded, visibly awed by the reference to the sacred temple ceremony.

Sister Zimmerman adopted the countenance of a solemn child. “Heavenly Father’s most righteous spirits are lingering in the pre-existence, waiting to be born into the one and only true church. They are to be your sons and daughters. If you do as the Lord asks, and magnify your calling as wife and mother, you will be exalted in the eternities to the highest level of the Celestial Kingdom. This is Heavenly Father’s plan for you and it begins tonight.”

The girls looked down and fingered their gowns.

Sister Z continued. “I know Joseph Smith was a prophet, who spoke directly with God. I know Gordon B. Hinckley is a living prophet who guides and directs our church today. And I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the one and only true church on the face of the earth. I leave these things with you, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

“Amen,” they repeated.

Sister Z brightened. “Change your clothes and we’ll go for ice cream.”

They flew like fairies to the dressing rooms. Sister Souter bustled behind to collect their gowns. But Sister Z could only sink into a chair and stare out the window. Across the street, girls worked at the barre in the Abbottsville Dance Studio. More young women practiced volleyball in the gym at Sally Ride Junior High. Some sipped milkshakes at the local Foster’s Freeze. Others were glued to TV or computer screens. For most girls in Abbottsville, the future was a mystery, a fuzzy picture that would sharpen with time. But for the girls in Fourth Ward, it was already all figured out. 

Coming Soon: The Girls From Fourth Ward

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward and the wonderful people who read this blog
From: Donna Banta
Subject: The Girls From Fourth Ward, a novel

Over the years on Ward Gossip I have reposted emails from Bishop Brent Loomis "whose shocking murder remains unsolved." Finally, the truth behind his mysterious devise will be revealed in my new novel, The Girls From Fourth Ward. It will be available as both a paperback and an ebook soon. Here is an excerpt:

     Bishop Loomis of the Abbottsville Fourth Ward relaxed behind the expansive mahogany desk in his church office. His volume of scripture was precisely aligned in the desk’s top left corner, telephone top center, pen and pencil cup top right. His appointment calendar lay square in the center of his fine leather desk pad, opened to today’s date.

In spite of his many obligations, the bishop felt at peace. Never in his life had he been so confident of his own opinion, secure in his relationships, and proud of his work in the Kingdom of God.

      In fact, his calm was so complete that when his office door opened, and he looked up to greet the familiar face, he did not even notice the gun that fired a bullet square into the center of the neatly pressed, starched white pocket that covered up his heart.   

More to come!