Life in a Motherless House

This week I received my tape of Carol Lynn Pearson's talk, "Mary Poppins and the Return of God the Mother" from the 1998 Sunstone Symposium. In the talk she speaks of the Church as a "motherless house." Carol Lynn says that she has found that the longing for a Divine mother is a universal hunger which pops up in the collective unconscious often. To illustrate this she mentions several well known films which speak of the transforming of the patriarchal family through the receiving of the divine magical woman. I plan to outline Carol Lynn's conclusions about these films, but first I would like to ask a question of any males that happen across this blog. Do you feel the lack of a mother figure in our Church? We have a Heavenly Father, and we have a "father of the ward" (bishop), both of whom are heavily involved in our daily lives. It is to the Heavenly Father that we pray several times a day. It is the Bishop who gives us the callings which often define us and take up so much of our time. We are told that we have a Heavenly Mother, but that we need not strive to know her personally. We have women who affect us and teach us in Primary, but after the age of 12, males have no further contact with women in the Church as authority figures nor are women Church leaders available to them for guidance or counsel (as men are available to women in the Church). Do you feel that this constitutes a "motherless house?" Do you ever feel longings for a spiritual feminine?

More about Carol Lynn's talk to come!

Thinking Blogger Award

I'm so thrilled that Jana tagged me as a "Thinking Blogger."

Now I have to choose 5 (and only 5) blogs that make me think. This is going to be hard because I only visit blogs that make me think.

I Sit and Think
by J.R.R. Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

And now, for the winners....

1. Mind on Fire
John Remy never fails to make me think. I've enjoyed his courage in sharing his spiritual journey, I like his focus on philosophy and theology blended with activism. I agree with his yearnings toward pacifism and environmentalism. One of the things you must check out on this blog is the Wednesday Challenge. This ranges from naming the 192 member countries in the U.N. to taking a shower!

2. The Fire Sermon
I've followed Johnny since I first started blogging. First he was "The Mormon Left," then "Zarathustra and Me," and who knows what incarnation we will find him in next! His existential angst really appeals to my heart and soul, and I want to be there when he finally finds the answer to all things.

3. Mormon Stories
The third John who has captured my imagination is John Dehlin. Always causing a controversy in the Bloggernacle, and apparently, in his Stake! I started reading Mormon Stories after his funny, funny presentation at Sunstone. His interviews are down-home, refreshing, and sensitive. And they make me think! Right now we're all anxiously awaiting the promised "Pink Stories."

4. Zelophehad's Daughters
It didn't say in the rules that I couldn't pick group blogs. This is one upon which I can bestow the great honor of a "thinking blog." I read it daily, and I'm always enriched when there is a new post. Eve is hereby named as the Chosen One to respond to this award! Her poetry and poetic nature always appeals to me.

5. New Cool Thang
This blog not only makes me think, but sometimes I feel I am about to bust a brain cell trying to follow what they are talking about! If you get hooked on this blog, like I am, you'll soon find yourself reading lots of Blake Ostler and Journal of Discourses, and scribbling notes about the theology of the atonement in the margins of your scriptures! I don't know if anyone over there reads me, but if you discover that you have been tagged, I would love for Jacob, a blogger I greatly admire, to write the response.


For those I tagged, please read the following rules...
The Thinking Blogger Award is also a meme. The participation rules are simple:

1. If you get tagged, write a post with links to five blogs that make you think.
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme.
3. (Optional) Proudly display the "Thinking Blogger Award" with a link to the post that you wrote.

Mormon Dress Code

Last week Jana blogged about how intimidating the LDS men and how worldly the LDS women appeared after not having attended her local ward for some time.

I took stock of my Vernal ward today, to see how well we adhered to the Mormon Dress Code. (see results, comment #29) Here is what I wore to Church:


(the dangly earrings I wore are pinned to the lapel.)

As I commented at pilgrimgirl, the Mormon dress code is not hard to learn. You can do it in one Sunday. For men, conservative dark suits or white shirts, ties, and slacks. For women, skirt suits, skirts and conservative dressy tops, or tent dresses for larger women.

As you can see, my choices of clothing usually represent an attempt to blend in and appear to be conservative and non-threatening. Considering the subtle disapproval one receives for not following this unwritten protocol, it interests me to assess the motivation of one who chooses not to comply. Why do certain Mormon males grow a beard or wear patterned shirts to Sacrament Meeting? Is it mere comfort that prompts a woman to wear pants to Church, or is it a rebellious streak? Is the wearing of clothing that differs from the norm an attempt to show individuality? Do you feel judged or marginalized because of your clothing choices?

What did you wear to Church on Sunday?

What's on Your Nightstand?

My Nightstand:
Lamp
Clock Radio
Framed Picture of myself at age 18 months
A pencil, pen, and red marking pencil
Picture of my daughter and her date at prom
Sharing time activity
Friend Magazine April 2007
Dialogue Magazine Spring 2007
Notepad with poems
Notepad with Hebrew notes
Sunday School Study Guide
2 Triple combinations
Teachings of Presidents of the Church--Wilford Woodruff
Books: Hannibal, Hannibal Rising, A Deadly Hand, The Plot Against America, Rough Stone Rolling, Harmonizing Isaiah, Patterns of Poetry, A Student's Vocabulary of Biblical Hebrew, Liber Jesaiae (Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia), Gileadi's The Apocalyptic Book of Isaiah, Biblical Hebrew Workbook.
A friend's completed manuscript I am editing
List of emails of aerobics ladies
Cinderella playing cards


DH's Nightstand:
Lamp
Three pens, four pencils
Three popsicle sticks & a popsicle wrapper
Tube of Ben-Gay
Watch
Foot massager
Individual flossers
Vernal Temple Schedule
Duracell watch battery
Kool-Aid Chapstick
Lotion
Teachings of Presidents of the Church--Spencer W. Kimball
Replacement Lightbulb
Newspaper clipping of his most recent article
6 Coupons
Lifeguard whistle (that's mine!)
(in the magazine rack): Ensign magazine for the past 6 months, several recent issues of Time, Newsweek, US News & World Report, Sunstone (that's mine!) Better Homes & Gardens garden book, Beautiful Gardens, A Father's Legacy, Preparing to Enter the Holy Temple pamphlet (25 copies), audiovisual cable.

Word of the Day

Insipid
anemic, anesthetized, apathetic, arid, banal, beige, blah, bland, boring, bromidic, characterless, cloying, colorless, common, commonplace, conventional, dead, distasteful, drab, dreary, driveling, drudging, dry, dull, feeble, flat, flavorless, hackneyed, inane, innocuous, insipid, interminable, irksome, jejune, lackluster, lifeless, limp, monotonous, moth-eaten, mundane, namby-pamby, nebbish, nothing, nowhere, ordinary, pablum, pedestrian, phlegmatic, plain, platitudinous, plebeian, pointless, prosaic, prosy, routine, savorless, slight, soft, spiritless, square, stagnant, stale, stodgy, stupid, subdued, tame, tedious, tenuous, thin, tired, tripe, trite, unappetizing, unexciting, unpalatable, unsavory, unimaginative, unmemorable, unpassioned, vacuous, vapid, watery, weak, weariful, wearisome, wiped out, wishy-washy, yawn, zero.

My Monologue

I thought I'd share my Vagina Monologue, written in 2002. I double dog dare you (women) out there to write one!

When I lived in Hawaii, my best friend and next-door neighbor ws 65. "When I look in the mirror, I see this face," she said, "but this is not me. I don't feel any different than when I was 18." My neighbor and I became buddies and confidantes. We talked about the Church, the world, our families, and sex. It was surprising to me that sex was still a big deal when you were 65. I was 29, I had four children ages 4 and under, and sex was low on my list of priorities.

Things hadn't started out that way. When I was growing up in the sixties and seventies, my parents were involved in polyamory. My mother had a long-term relationship with a well-known black minister when I was a child. Then in my teen years, a young divorcee named Linda came to live with our family. My parents also had several shorter relationships over the years. I didn't exactly appreciate sharing my parents' time and emotional energy with other people, and this tended to make me more cautious about forming my own relationships. In college I joined the LDS Church at age 19 and was more determined than ever to save sexual relations for marriage. However, I had grown up with a very open attitude toward sex ad felt that I had healthy feelings about my body and my sexuality.

I served a mission, met my husband at BYU, and married in the Temple. Our intimate relationship was spiritual, loving, and fun. It was also very connected with our religious attitudes. We wanted to have children right away. Although non-member relatives urged us to enjoy each other for a while before we had kids, we felt a great proscription against using birth control of any kind. (year: 1983) Children came quickly, as did Church responsibilities and employment obligations for my husband. Money did not come quickly. We were poor, overcommitted, and stressed-out. My husband, who grew up in an abusive situation, struggled for many years with controlling his temper.

One day my friend and I were lying on the beach in Hawaii, children digging in the sand all around us. She turned to me with anguish on her face. "I can't make love to my husband when we are in a fight," she said. "It makes me feel like a prostitute!" I gazed at her fondly, trying not to laugh. It was impossible to associate that word with her sweet, lined, pixie face. But I understood the feelings behind the words all too well. My husband and I were growing further apart, and with the emotional distance I felt a need to back away physically also. How could he hurt my body one minute, then touch me intimately the next? The dichotomy was incomprehensible.

As I reached my thirties, my conception of myself as a woman began to expand. I began to see a dimension of my spirituality in terms of my sexuality. I noticed that a man's relationship with his Father God was different than that of a woman's. The Mormon male relates to a male Deity as a role model and something to aspire to. A woman does not, though she is told that she will one day be a goddess. Much has been revealed about the characteristics and roles of our Heavenly Father. But we have no clear conception of the attributes of the female aspect of Deity. As a woman, my relationship with my Heavenly Father was one of supplicant, rather than heir.

Because of my early influences outside of the Church, I never saw myself as anything other than an empowered woman. Therefore my struggles to define my relationship with the Father God were efforts to connect and illuminate rather than to cast off any perceived oppression. This paralleled the "marital dance" I was performing with my husband, as we sought to pattern our steps into a pleasing promenade. The years it took to elucidate myself as a feminine being were painful and distressing. A crippling depression following the birth of my fifth child blighted an entire year and threatened the fragile stability of our family. But Medea rose from the sea, water flowing from her shining skin.

As I again became aware of my surroundings, I noticed what I had not perceived since puberty. It was a sexual force flowing from my inner being. I thought of this force as being held tightly in a box inside the center of my body. I could crack open the lid and let a little of it escape. Men began to notice me and make excuses to touch me. I knew this force could become a raging fire and blaze quickly out of control. So after a while, I carefully closed the lid of the box, hugging the secret to myself. Besides, fifteen years of pregnancy and nursing with nary a month between to call my body my own bound my sexuality all up with motherhood.

One day I was in the Temple and I kept catching the eye of a young woman who was watching me. After the session, she approached me and we had a little chat. She asked me how many children I had. I told her I had eight children. She said she knew I had many children, because I radiated "Mother in Zion." I went home and looked at myself in a mirror. Most of my wrinkles were laugh lines, so they didn't look too bad. But my chin was definitely saggier. I held my arms out to my sides and jiggled them. No "Relief Society arms" just yet. My breasts were O.K.--round and soft. Legs were in good shape. No varicose veins after eight children, and despite an hereditary propensity! I was pleased with that. Problem area: my stomach. It was a mess. Stretch marks from my rib cage to my lover abdomen traversed rolls of fat. No wonder we no longer made love with the light on! I knew that my husband liked to look at me, but I couldn't bear for that stomach to be exposed. Yes, I had a "Mother in Zion" stomach.

A couple of years after that, I reached a landmark moment. "sister B.," a missionary said to me fondly, "you're so great. You remind me of my mom." No! His mom?? I reminded a missionary of his mom? I couldn't possibly be his mother. I would have had to have had a baby at age...well, twenty. I guess I could be his mom. In fact, his mother could be younger than I. What a horrifying thought. I was old enough to be the mother of a missionary.

That night, as I lay within the circle of my husband's arms I wondered if he realized that he was holding a woman old enough to be a missionary's mother. He turned to me and gently kissed my lips. I knew that the years had been kind to us. When he looked into my eyes he saw superimposed upon my face, the face of that young girl he had married. I knew that the wrinkles and the stretch marks had become phantoms compared with the stronger, younger spirit within me. Tender feelings stirred me as I held him to my breast. Then heat began to rise between us, for after all, inside I didn't feel ny different than when I was eighteen.

Saying the "V" Word

Last week, a public high school in New York suspended three girls for saying the word "Vagina" during a talent show-type event. The girls were performing exerpts from "The Vagina Monologues." "It wasn't crude and it wasn't inappropriate and it was very real and very pure," one of the students said. I must say I was surprised at the school's reaction to the word. It was very different from my daughter's experience at her Houston high school. In one of the health classes offered there, a teacher was notorious for making the students shout "Penis!" and "Vagina!" at the top of their lungs many many times on the very first day of class. When my daughter first came home with a report of this, I must admit I was taken aback. But as I thought about it I soon realized that the teacher was laying the foundation for the teenagers to be able to have frank, open, articulate discussions about a sensitive topic. Once the teens were able to say the words without embarrassment, they were better able to learn the subject matter.

Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't stand up in Relief Society during Opening Exercises, and, instead of reciting the RS Declaration, have the Sisters yell the words "Penis!" and "Vagina!" I am concerned that few women know how to talk to their sons and daughters about sex, about issues of birth control, masturbation, or even preparation for married life.

At some point following the production of Eve Ensler's "The Vagina Monologues," a group of Mormon women wrote their own version of the Vagina Monologues and titled it "Sacred Spaces." It was presented at the 2001 Sunstone West Symposium in San Francisco. I'll admit here that I did not attend either the Broadway or the Mormon version, but I have read both. "Sacred Spaces" is a lovely and poignant collection of Mormon women's experiences with sex and discovering their bodies in a religious context. A few quotes from the pieces follow:

"My sexuality (perhaps my experience as a woman) can be summed up as my desire to please."

"I try to reach out to this stranger, my husband, and realize he is far gone. I find I am made of the hardest steel. Nothing to soften me. I crave sweet kisses. I crave the touch of hands caressing my body. I need to be vulnerable somewhere. I am the pivot point for everyone in my life."

"I was not raised Mormon, but it doesn't matter that much. I was raised American. I was raised Christian. I was more than a little embarrassed about nakedness from the time I was old enough to recognize what it was."

"While she had the marriages and the children, I carried around the same reproductive equipment but didn't use it. Sometimes I fantasized that it would be more convenient if I could just detach it, like a computer peripheral, and plug it back in should I happen to need it."

Several days after reading the collection, I wrote my own "Vagina Monologue." In a brave act of consciousness-raising, I brought it with me to my Book Club night. I told the women we should all write our own monologues, even if we didn't share them. None of the women took me up on the offer. One of my friends stated, "I don't think of myself as having those parts. I think of myself as being from the neck up!" I thought this was rather sad for someone who had been married 16 years and had 4 children.

I wonder if the newer generation of Mormon women will be as conflicted about their sexuality. I wonder what they will do with the disconnect between what they are taught at school and through popular culture, and what they are taught at Church. I wonder if they will ever feel the need to say the "V word" at a school talent show.

Ron Paul on "Just War" Theory

from Ron Paul before the U.S. House of Representatives, 6/29/06. Hat tip to Connor.

"...Policy changes in wartime are difficult, for it is almost impossible for the administration to change course since so much emotional energy has been invested in the effort. That’s why Eisenhower ended the Korean War, and not Truman. That’s why Nixon ended the Vietnam War, and not LBJ. Even in the case of Vietnam the end was too slow and costly, as more then 30,000 military deaths came after Nixon’s election in 1968. It makes a lot more sense to avoid unnecessary wars than to overcome the politics involved in stopping them once started. I personally am convinced that many of our wars could be prevented by paying stricter attention to the method whereby our troops are committed to battle. I also am convinced that when Congress does not declare war, victory is unlikely.

The most important thing Congress can do to prevent needless and foolish wars is for every member to take seriously his or her oath to obey the Constitution. Wars should be entered into only after great deliberation and caution. Wars that are declared by Congress should reflect the support of the people, and the goal should be a quick and successful resolution.

Our undeclared wars over the past 65 years have dragged on without precise victories. We fight to spread American values, to enforce UN resolutions, and to slay supposed Hitlers. We forget that we once spread American values by persuasion and setting an example – not by bombs and preemptive invasions. Nowhere in the Constitution are we permitted to go to war on behalf of the United Nations at the sacrifice of our national sovereignty. We repeatedly use military force against former allies, thugs we helped empower – like Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden – even when they pose no danger to us...

How have the 2,500 plus deaths, and the 18,500 wounded, made us more free? What in the world does Iraq have to do with protecting our civil liberties here at home? What national security threat prompted American’s first pre-emptive war? How does our unilateral enforcement of UN resolutions enhance our freedoms?...

Some of the strongest supporters of the war declare that we are a Christian nation, yet use their religious beliefs to justify the war. They claim it is our Christian duty to remake the Middle East and attack the Muslim infidels. Evidently I have been reading from a different Bible. I remember something about “Blessed are the peacemakers.”

My beliefs aside, Christian teaching of nearly a thousand years reinforces the concept of “Just War Theory.” This Christian theory emphasizes six criteria needed to justify Christian participation in war. Briefly the six points are as follows:

War should be fought only in self-defense;
War should be undertaken only as a last resort;
A decision to enter war should be made only by a legitimate authority;
All military responses must be proportional to the threat;
There must be a reasonable chance of success; and
A public declaration notifying all parties concerned is required.
The war in Iraq fails to meet almost all of these requirements. This discrepancy has generated anger and division within the Christian community.

Some are angry because the war is being fought out of Christian duty, yet does not have uniform support from all Christians. Others are angry because they see Christianity as a religion as peace and forgiveness, not war and annihilation of enemies.

Constitutional and moral restraints on war should be strictly followed...

The solution to this mess is not complicated; but the changes needed are nearly impossible for political reasons. Sound free market economics, sound money, and a sensible foreign policy would all result from strict adherence to the Constitution. If the people desired it, and Congress was filled with responsible members, a smooth although challenging transition could be achieved. Since this is unlikely, we can only hope that the rule of law and the goal of liberty can be reestablished without chaos.

We must move quickly toward a more traditional American foreign policy of peace, friendship, and trade with all nations; entangling alliances with none. We must reject the notion that we can or should make the world safe for democracy. We must forget about being the world’s policeman. We should disengage from the unworkable and unforgiving task of nation building. We must reject the notion that our military should be used to protect natural resources, private investments, or serve the interest of any foreign government or the United Nations. Our military should be designed for one purpose: defending our national security. It’s time to come home now, before financial conditions or military weakness dictates it.

The major obstacle to a sensible foreign policy is the fiction about what patriotism means. Today patriotism has come to mean blind support for the government and its policies. In earlier times patriotism meant having the willingness and courage to challenge government policies regardless of popular perceptions.

Today we constantly hear innuendos and direct insults aimed at those who dare to challenge current foreign policy, no matter how flawed that policy may be. I would suggest it takes more courage to admit the truth, to admit mistakes, than to attack others as unpatriotic for disagreeing with the war in Iraq."

Read the entire talk here, and let me know what you think. Connor said that this article convinced his mom that the war in Iraq was wrong and that we should leave. Did it convince you?

Mideast Muddle

I'm still considering World Peace today--I read an article from the top news stories of today entitled, "Jordan's King Urges U.S. to Work on Mideast Peace." For a moment I was thrilled, but as my eyes quickly scanned the article, I realized that King Abdullah was calling for the United States to become more involved in the Middle East. I continue to contemplate the wisdom in our continued presence in Iraq as a peacekeeping measure. Abdullah addressed a recent joint meeting of Congress(which has been searching for ways to diminish the U.S. involvement in Iraq). He pled that the U.S. has an "unrivaled" potential to help with the core problem in the area; the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

Coincidentally, several hours after reading this article I came across the following quotation by Gordon B. Hinckley:

"I have often thought that if great numbers of the women of all nations were to unite and lift their voices in the cause of peace, there would develop a worldwide will for peace which could save our civilization and avoid untold suffering, misery, plague, starvation and the death of millions."

I wish President Hinckley could have been a bit more specific as to what our voices could say or how we could unite together to effect this change. My personal desire would be to send thousands of Americans to the Middle East as a true "peacekeeping force"--without guns or ammunition but with medical supplies, textbooks, love and reason. Just to roam about the country spreading ideals and goodwill. What a dumb plan, right? I would volunteer to do this. I don't know how many others could be persuaded.

Still waiting and watching to be led...

Another "I Put on Black"

This poem, written by Rebecca del Rio-Ruso is a stirring protest of war using the same imagery I used in my poem "I Put on Black."

DE LUTO

El día que lanzaron el bombardeo (digo ellos,
porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
me vestí de luto.

Doble y metí en un pliegue el rojo, el amarillo, la ira y puse
La esperanza en su lugar. Almacené el verde, el azul, la anticipación,
Y el deseo en un rinconcito lindo.

El día que lanzaron el bombardeo (digo ellos,
Porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
apilé el verde oliva, el marrón,
La serenidad y el reposo en el tocador
Y me vestí de luto.

El día que se lanzaron el bombardeo (digo ellos,
Porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
me fijé mientras el naranja estalló
en estrellas espectaculares, como chispas de
Una hoguera del desierto. Almacene mis bufandas, mis pulseras,
Los amuletos y la risa.
Y me vestí de luto.

El día que se lanzaron el bombardeo
(digo ellos,
Porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
me absorbió del pecho
El aire en tragos tremendos,
tragos turquesa, fucsia,
De doloridos tonos morado.
Lo sentí cuando el aire giraba encima y
Me vestí de luto.

El día que lanzamos el bombardeo
(digo nosotros porque
Por mas que me rehusé lo hicieron en mi nombre)
Doblé la alegría como doblaría una tienda de campaña de los Bedoin,
Una carpa reluciente, de flequillo,
que ondula en la brisa del desierto
Y me vestí de luto.

Rebecca del Rio-Ruso
-------------------------------

IN BLACK

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs), I put on black.

I folded away red, yellow, rage, and
Hope. I tucked greens, blues, anticipation
And desire in a neat corner
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs) I stacked olive, tan,
Quietude and rest in the cabinet.
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs) I watched orange
Shower up in spectacular sparks like
A desert bonfire. I put away my scarves, silver bracelets,
Amulets and laughter.
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs,) I felt
The air being sucked out of me
In great gulps of teal, fuchsia, pained
Shades of purple. I felt the air wheeling over as
I put on black.

The day we started bombing (we because no matter
How I refused, they used my name anyway)
I folded up joy, like a Bedouin's tent, bright,
Fringed and billowing and put on black.


Rebecca del Rio-Ruso

Prayer for Peace

Whenever something deeply affects me, it always seems to come out in poetry. I was moved by those who participated in fasting for peace on Sunday. I enjoyed the feeling of togetherness it brought. I was especially touched by John's post on the pathology of war. It responded to my concern that my small prayer was not likely to do much good.

A Prayer For Peace

Afar beyond the surging sea
In regions yet unknown to me
The jaws of war gape wild and wide;
A frightful beast.

The troubled, war-torn region lies
In shambles under sinking skies
Another wounded warrior dies
While others feast.

The heads of nations, bickering
Have set my candles flickering.
My heart cannot shut out the cries
Nor take my ease.

I fast, and put aside my meal,
A meager effort--meant to heal.
Will heaven heed my simple sighs?
Let conflict cease.

A pinprick in the conscience of
A nation so devoid of love
Is my petition, small in size:
A Prayer for Peace.

I'm glad that we were able to set aside a time to think about those personally affected by war, the hard decisions of national leaders, and peaceful endeavor. I feel ready to accept a bigger part in working for peace if it comes my way.

Give Peace a Chance

In a few hours, I'll start my fast for World Peace. I'm praying that leaders of the nations will increasingly consider nonviolent ways to solve conflicts. I'm glad that several people around the Bloggernacle will be joining me in a Vigil tomorrow, Sunday March 4, to promote peace.

I sent out about 50 emails to invite Mormon bloggers to participate in this effort. I was hoping that many of them would put something up on their site to pass the word. Those who posted on peace are featured in my sidebar. (If I missed you, let me know!) I didn't get much of a response among traditional Mormons. Almost everyone I sent emails to who responded to me or put something up on their blog were non-traditional or "post-Mormons." I found this interesting and a little disappointing, and can't help but wonder why.

Perhaps some "traditional" Mormon bloggers associated this effort with non-violent methods of achieving peace. Do Mormons on the whole support military force to defend their countries and keep their families safe? Comments I have received on this blog and read on other blogs seem to suggest this view.

Perhaps some did not respond because praying or fasting for peace seems ineffective. One little person or family and their prayers may not make much of a difference when stacked up against world leaders, nations, and nuclear weapons.

Some may have had more important or more interesting posts to make this week.

Or maybe my emails just went into their junk mail.

___________________


I invite you all to participate tomorrow in whatever way you feel comfortable; to pray, fast, or meditate for World Peace. Send me a comment and let me know how it went.