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An anonymous reader writes:
If fear of the unknown, prejudice, or shunning the “other” are so unconscious, what should we be doing to catch ourselves and be more proactive in this interesting mandate to “learn to love”? I certainly do not have a circle of eclectic friends. I think I'm an example of one who needs to grow in this area.
Jeannie says:
Being part of a ward in Vienna, Austria, where as many as 24 countries were represented at one time, I took pride in having very good friends from diverse walks of international life. For ten years Africans, Filipinos, Poles, Rumanians, Czeks, Chinese, Japanese, and many others, filled the church pews and my living room. We danced one another's dances and sampled one another's food. We celebrated various national holidays together. We laughed ourselves silly trying to explain the game of “baseball” to our multi-colored assemblage. The Africans snickered in return as we “whites” tried to sing their wonderful songs.
When the iron curtain began to crumble in 1989, the ward was inundated with refugees and immigrants. The unspoken rule was “If they smell of tobacco, if they are visibly ‘hung over,' if they are not dressed appropriately, then sit by them and introduce yourself. Invite them into the circle.”
Not all, but many responded positively to this treatment. The results were amazing. No one had to point out obvious discrepencies in dress or behavior. No one took it upon him or herself to criticize or school another. We just watched and tried to love. The Spirit did the rest. Hemlines descended, sweat pants disappeared, hair was washed, and eyes became clearer.
It was a time of love, respect, and most of all, inclusion. There were few “divisions among us.” As such, nearly all members were edified. It resembled the ideal of Zion more than anything I had experienced on this earth. And boy, I was really getting the hang of this diversity thing.
What is that old biblical adage: Pride goeth before a fall? Here comes the banana peel.
In response to a situation with addiction in the extended family, my husband and I decided to attend Al-Anon. We were mistakenly directed to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. We happened to be the only people present not dealing with issues of sobriety.
Feeling conspicuous and a little scared, I looked around to see the obvious signs of this disease etched into nearly every face. Some were hardened and wore clothing which earmarked their poverty. Others were withdrawn and shy; their eyes diverted from my own. They were decidedly different from those with whom I normally associated and it made me uncomfortable. Much like the ancient Zoramites, I found myself ascending that Rameumptom and thanking the Lord that I was not in their situation.
The meeting began and, one by one, the people I had so wrongly prejudged began to strip my pride with their words of humility. Each of them not only acknowledged, but also gave total credit to their “Higher Power” for helping them tame their addiction. One man spoke with tenderness about a buddy who helped him through a particularly rough spot. That “buddy” was Jesus Christ.
Another young woman spoke of honesty. Everyone in the room responded with a nod-of-the-head and a smile as she related the events of her life. Several years prior to sobriety, her existence had been a web of deceit. Lying to relatives and friends alike, she had found it a terrible chore to remember which tales she had told to whom. After 18 months of sobriety and truth, she slipped once again in the area of honesty. She had not only lied to a person she cared about, but had done so while looking straight into his eyes.
As he turned to leave, she courageously called him back and said: “Do you know that I just lied to you? I looked in your eyes and lied to you. This is not who I am or who I want to be. Please forgive me.”
I would never have the courage to do something like that.
After the meeting, several men came up to us. Their tenderness and understanding for our situation was so moving. Inwardly so very compassionate, they brought both my husband and me to tears as they embraced us and made us promise to call if we had more questions.
By this time, I was feeling lower than bog slime. It had become easy for me to love and accept those from diverse backgrounds when they were on my turf—in my Church. I totally missed the mark with my friends at the AA meeting. I was out of my comfort zone and preoccupied with their outward appearance. How many other choice opportunities had I missed as a result of this kind of hasty judgment?
One of the overriding themes of last month's General Conference was the message of inclusion. If Zion is to be established, we have got to just “get over it.” Clothing, color, country, language, marital status, religious affiliation, education—all of it. We don't have to embrace the incorrect things our brothers and sisters do, but we are commanded to embrace them.
Even those within the boundaries of our ward or within the walls of our own home can be suffering from feelings of exclusion. With the help of the Spirit, we can train our eyes to see “not as a man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance,” but more like the Lord “who looketh on the heart.” When this happens, diversity can be understood and even appreciated, rather than a source of separation.
Kathy says:
This is a huge question! I am thinking of all the people who might not find a spot at that family (or “familiar”) picnic table. Instead of a “no smoking” table, is there a “no college degree” table? A “tone deaf” table? A “handicapped” space? How about a “no English” (or its corollary, a “no Spanish”) table? It seems there is always a “no spouse” table.
In our local malls, it is not uncommon to see hand-lettered signs in the food courts that say “Madison” or “Detroit” or “Cleveland.” Our winter visitors like to stop and chat with people from their hometowns, to see if they have friends in common. Is it possible that our chapel benches or even our auxiliary boards sometimes have similar labels? Can we somehow work toward a cohesive, homogeneous comfort zone that embraces everyone whom Jesus Christ would like to include in His flock?
When I enter a roomful of people, especially if I am trying to manage a soggy paper plate buckling under an overload of grilled chicken and potato salad, I love it when somebody says “Kathy, come and sit with us.” I think the Golden Rule as it applies here might be to make it a daily goal to watch for those new arrivals with their drooping plates, and be the first to wave and say “Hi! Come and sit with us.”
If the “differentness” is a mental or physical handicap or emotional disorder, again, I think we can go out of our way. Don't be afraid. Get information and embrace a special friend as just that. We can learn to love. It is very possible that this special person has mastered love and will be a once-in-a-lifetime master-teacher on the subject.
Our prophets have reminded us on numerous occasions that we need to participate in community events, and not exclusively in Church activities. This is another challenge that is difficult, schedule-wise, but important in this context.
Community service reminds us we need to be especially careful of deliberate exclusions, such as shunning certain neighbors. An issue I think we need to address is that of family policy on kids associating only with LDS friends. I was so happy to hear M. Russell Ballard mention this in our last General Conference!
I know many families who have policies restricting dating practices to members. One family has a rule that their children can only accept three dates with a neighbor who happens not to be a member of the Church and who does not elect to investigate the church after that amount of contact. Of course, we would tend to support any and all families' rights to receive revelation regarding the guidelines they set for their children's behavior. But it happened that all three of my endowed sons dated fine, accomplished Catholic girls with sky-high moral standards, whom we all loved. In all three cases, the couples decided, by mutual agreement and with no nudging of any kind on our part, that their deep friendships would not become courtships. The girls knew they wanted their children raised in the Catholic faith, and of course our boys knew they would marry in the temple; so marriage to their high school sweethearts was not possible. But I think my sons' lives were very much enhanced by their relationships with these and many other classmates not of our faith.
My good friend can top that. Nearly all of her children, including returned missionaries, have married a neighbor who later joined the church. She says their only family “policy” has been love. It seems there will always be puzzles and paradoxes regarding significant doctrine, such as the importance of temple marriage, and questions of how to manage relationships with loved ones who are, temporarily at least, noncompliant with doctrinal standards. The gift of the Holy Ghost assumes special luster whenever such a paradox must be reconciled. This reminded me of a comment attributed to Olive Osmond, when she was criticized for permitting her underage children to perform in Las Vegas night clubs. She is said to have replied, “Our job is to entertain our audiences, not to judge them.”
There has never been a time in which John's record of the Savior's reminder has been revoked.
By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.
John 13:35
Our prophet reminded us again, in our most recent conference, we are all of “one Lord, one faith, one baptism.” We are a world-wide church. The waitress, scientist, novelist, nanny, homemaker, athlete, amputee, and astronaut are all our sister pilgrims on the pathway to eternal salvation. Maybe they don't know it yet, but we can welcome them eagerly, watching for ways to love them. We can check our souls often, to make sure that everything we say or feel about our neighbor is a sincere invitation to participate in the atonement with us.
We can sense, from Jeannie's experience in Austria, and her more recent meeting of neighbors (which she attended by accident), how glorious this must feel when it becomes our life view. The answer may lie in the notion of being just a bit leery of comfort. Of course we enjoy our associations with our professional peers, our hobby buddies, and our own kith, kin, and kind. But our blessings are typically predicated upon obedience and growth; and this is an area where I can improve.
I have always loved the literary convention of “the noble savage;” the outsider who has never tasted the corrupting influences of civilization. He often looks terrifying and has no manners whatsoever. You can see the usefulness of this conventional character to the writer. The savage can be used to teach virtually any moral the author likes. I would like to think of our unique sisters—those who might seem unfamiliar to me in any way—as those who “have a work that no other can do,” from the hymn Dare to Do Right.
I pledge to try to remember that it is just as often I who might feel or seem odd, and The Golden Rule goes both ways. Maybe I have a task as well. Thanks for a very provocative question.
Alison Moore Smith is a 61-year-old entrepreneur who graduated from BYU in 1987. She has been (very happily) married to Samuel M. Smith for 40 years. They are parents of six incredible children and grandparents to two astounding grandsons. She is the author of The 7 Success Habits of Homeschoolers.
Jasmine writes:
I read this article and wanted to comment “from the other side.” Although I have too at times been guilty of judging people before getting to know them (something I think everyone does from time to time), more often I am the one judged. I am no longer an active member of the church. I never felt welcomed in a ward I lived in.
I have a mental disorder multiple personality disorder that can make me come across “different” to people and I guess make them uncomfortable or scared. Also I am a single sister. People were polite to me but never went out of their way to invite me to things going on in the ward or ask if I could get there. I would get some hellos on Sundays but that was about it. I would try to talk to some to try and get to know them but one of the conditions I have is a memory problem and I would often forget much of what they would say about themselves or their families. And with my disorder I could be a different person on a different Sunday.
I understand that this is hard for people to deal with because it happens everywhere I go. But I had always hoped that at church I could find a place where I could find acceptance, or at least tolerance, but it hasn’t happened. I would go home sad and lonely every week. My home teachers and visiting teachers almost never came or called me. So I gave up and left every ward I’ve lived in. It’s a very isolating experience when you are at this end of it. No matter what the reason is.
I am not writing this as a pity piece. I am writing it because I want you to try and understand what someone in your ward or anywhere you go who is the different one in a group might be feeling. If you think of it that way not how they look or act outwardly but how they may feel inwardly, it may be easier to overcome any initial blocks you may have and really, sincerely reach out to that person. Not every one will want it but the odds are in your favor that the majority of people will appreciate it. Remember no matter what obstacles we may have (and we all have something) we are all still God’s children.
Jasmine, I am very happy and grateful to find myself seated with you around our little circle this morning. We are learning, as we go, that our sisters bring a dappled array of lights and shadows to our group each week; far lovelier than we would ever have dreamed. The miraculous thing about our electronic circle is that we can discuss the real things those that really matter in a setting that is not really “social” in the traditional sense. We can be our deepest, most complicated selves and share the whole scope of our mortal probation with our sisters here. I think it is more than a coincidence that a number of our regular readers and writers happen to hold advance degrees in psychology. It feels like Heavenly Father has sent us a group of international sisters who have a profound understanding of many of the things that have been causing a lifetime of anguish to some of our readers. It also has seemed to me that most of our visitors are self-selected for their genuine desire to love one another. You have chosen the right forum in your intuitive response to our topic.
One of my favorite people, whose grown child was reduced to a near-vegatative state by unexplained seizures and then fought his way back to functionality somehow, told me “We all have a handicap. We adjust the best we can and keep going.” That observation has always intrigued me. I think much of what makes us reject people is often no more than one of those undetected handicaps. It is not unusual, as one example, for people with brain differences to have difficulties with “word finding.” It just means they struggle and grope for the right phrase and occasionally miss it by a mile. I have experienced that myself when I am under a great deal of stress, often by a small glitch that makes it come out backward. Once I said “thanks for inviting me,” when a guest at my party complimented me on the bash. (Oops. She was a quick study and recovered graciously by replying sort of quizzically: “Thanks for inviting me.”)
If all our membership were attuned to the possibility that a very inappropriate-sounding remark or other behavior might have been the result of an inconspicuous mental difference rather than malice or unforgivable thoughtlessness, we could progress a long way toward practicing our motto. I’m less familiar with MPD than our professional sisters who might be reading today, but I have read that victims of MPD often have no memory at all, in their “main” personality, of the time that passes in other modes beyond the psychotic break. If that is accurate and literal, is there any chance that you were, in fact, visited on numerous occasions that are not accessible to you in memory? This question is not to imply that it is impossible or unusual to join a ward where visiting and home teaching are not strong programs. That certainly happens, too. Either way, I feel very privileged to know you. Thanks for trusting us with your story; I hope you will enjoy your visit with us.
I think it’s really OK (and not judgmental) to notice that the spirit turns tail and runs like the dickens when this sort of thing occurs. Your letter reminded me of a fun logic-check that Karen Merkley threw our way regarding this week’s topic; “Is it OK for us to be intolerant of others’ intolerance?” (You got us there, Karen!!) And Ara, you beat us to the punch and already asked yourself the same question. Your Grandma Wilda has it right. We know charity will always be the right answer, and it’s often tons of fun to read through what charity is and isn’t, in the context of a specific situation.
Darlene writes:
Why is it that I assume I have so much I should be giving to others to make their lives better? Some of the time should be spent in finding what they have that will enrich my life. They too kept their first estate. They too have gifts from Heavenly Father. They too have learned much of value from their time in this probation. They too are working out their salvation. Perhaps they can help me.
Good point, Darlene. I think “inclusion” means true exchange, don’t you? It doesn’t really matter who initiates the sharing as long as it becomes an equal platform for mutual understanding. No relationship which has been grounded in love is a one-sided “you give, she takes” thing. Now, if you mean sharing ?as in Gospel, that’s another thing altogether. We are a covenant people, consecrated to help build Zion and as such, it is indeed our responsibility to take the first step with our brothers and sisters who are not members. It will make their lives better. I wasn’t sure to whom you were referring when you used the word “others.”
Gloria from Winter Park, Florida, writes:
I wish I could have copies of this article to share with many. This is a behavior that has to be taught and I think that it would be nice to incorporate this in some manner in our sharing and teaching. There is a mistaken view that one who reaches out to all is seeking attention and it would be nice to bring to light, as you have, the manner of loving, uplifting, comforting and really caring for one another. This would also perfect our visiting teaching. Thank you again for sharing.
Gloria, I am so pleased that you enjoyed today’s discussion with the circle of Sisters. Jeannie was involved at one time with the Relief Society General Board on similar initiatives (specifically media that reflect the Utah experience but are so foreign to other cultures they might as well have been filmed aboard the Hubble telescope.) I agree with you completely. We have no problem at all with copyrights or rights to first publication. You can print and copy at will as long as you credit the authors as the source. Thanks for visiting the Circle of Sisters, and for your perceptive heart in hoping for a better way to reach sisters who might be hurting inside from feelings of not quite fitting into the group.
Ara from southeast Idaho, writes:
When we first met she was whole, while I was an abuse victim. I knew her for three years as a very dear “friend,” a nurturer, a caretaker, a better mother than I, a better human being than I. She seemed all-knowing, all-wise, and ever-capable. I was wounded. She was whole. She was everything I was not.
Then we moved away. My husband went to his residency and I dealt with my background by earning a master’s in Family Studies (marriage and family counseling). The work of C. Terry Warner dumped my victim worldview into the trash.
As it happened we returned to her community six years later. My husband had become a medical director by then, and I knew my world was of my own making, regardless of my circumstances. The first thing my old friend did was to invite me to join with her and a group of other women in the ward who saw movies together. They reviewed Pretty in Pink. I panned it because of the immorality themes (as I saw it). I was never invited again. My children never played with hers again. Years later I came to her defense during a training meeting. She was offended by my efforts.
I finally sat down with her, wondering how she could be so rejecting after all that we had in the bank. I considered her one of my family. She apologized for misunderstanding my intentions to protect her at the meeting, but we never crossed the bridge to each other again. I have thought about the demise of that friendship. I don’t think it was very healthy to begin with. But her explanation helped me to understand how she viewed people. It was very different from my perception. I am more like the anti Nephi Lehis. Having laid down my weapons, I just want to “love everyone; especially you, honey” that is a line from my Grandma Wilda’s book of life. That was the example she set. She did love everyone, even my Dad who left my Mom with 11 kids under 18.
I have to ask myself if I am not being just as exclusionary because I don’t really like to be around people who give off exclusionary vibes. I realize I am behaving in a pharisaic manner when I distance my heart from those whom I perceive as exclusionary. So I have to work on my own weaknesses in this area. I have no stones to throw.