A new study shows that religious Americans tend to be more overweight than their less devout neighbors. The news source I saw attributed the weight problem to the foods served at church potluck dinners. While I agree that high fat/high carb food is generally served at church socials, even the most faithful church members still eat most of their meals at home. I think the answer is not in the meals dished up at church, but in the guilt.
Popular media gives the religious guilt award to Catholics, but I think Mormons outdo Catholics in this contest. Do Catholics receive monthly phone calls asking if they’ve completed their visiting or home teaching assignments? Those calls require a brownie—maybe with a scoop of ice cream—to ease the feeling that not only God, but your church leaders mourn because you couldn’t bring yourself to visit Sister Crabbee and her houseful of dander-ridden felines this month. And what about being called into the bishop’s office and asked to accept a calling for which you have no aptitude or interest? Any variation of, “I’d really love to help you out by serving as Primary President, but I hate all kids except my own—and sometimes I’m not too sure about them” is not acceptable. Both accepting a calling you will hate or lying to get out of it will send you home to the pantry. And since low-cal substitutes like cigarettes and black coffee are not available to Mormons, chips and dip fill in—literally.
General Conference can really send Mormons on a food binge. Warnings about what might happen to you and your family if you aren’t diligent about Family Home Evening, daily prayer, scripture reading, Sabbath day observance, fasting, temple work, and sharing the gospel would push anyone less spiritual than Gandhi to seek solace in the box of Ding Dongs purchased for the kids’ lunches.
On the other hand, Evangelicals who are already saved probably don’t do Mormon and Catholic level guilt, yet plenty of them are portly. Maybe it’s something else. Maybe chubby church-goers are the result of spending Sundays sitting in church instead of biking and hiking with the svelte secular crowd.
I live in Bountiful, Utah where deer roam throughout the city. Beautiful as Bambi and friends are, nobody appreciates hungry deer barking trees, chewing off tulips, and devouring vegetable gardens. The deer in our area look pretty healthy—apparently our suburban landscaping sustains them. Not so the deer that enter our daughter’s yard in Evanston, WY. With no natural enemies, these animals have increased beyond the capacity of nature to feed them. We watched a gaunt, pregnant doe cross the fence into our daughter’s yard through deep snow to nibble the prickly branches of an Austrian pine—a pine showing the effects of a cold winter and too many hungry deer.
Like deer, we humans have the potential of reproducing ourselves into starvation and misery. Nations already fight over scarce energy resources. Parts of Asia and Africa currently face critical water shortages. Many Americans criticized China’s one-child policy as an assault on a basic freedom. Yet even with that drastic measure, China’s population swelled to over a billion and continues to grow. Which is more unkind—mandating birth control or allowing children to be born to starvation and disease?
The U.S. Congress—depending on which way the power plays—frequently holds up funding for voluntary birth control in foreign aid grants to developing countries—a hypocritical policy since few American couples of any religious persuasion opt to do with no form of birth control.
Mormons like to quote D&C 104:17, “For the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare,” as evidence that the earth can provide for current and future population growth. In 1834, when that revelation was given to Joseph Smith, world population was less than 1.5 billion. World population is currently projected to reach 7 billion by 2020. Maybe it’s time for the prophet to ask for an update—particularly in light of the admonition in D&C 59:20 that God gives the things of the earth “to be used with judgment, not to excess.” God’s idea of excess may be far lower than our own.
Shutting our eyes to the real situation of a too large population on a finite planet is a recipe for disaster—and surely not what God expects of us.
My brother, Dooby, is torn. His daughter Goldilocks and her husband bought a house four years ago. Son-in-law wants to enter graduate school, and they can’t sell their house for close to what they paid for it. Dooby thinks they should get rid of the house before it and neighborhood values slide further.
“Should I write and tell her what I think?”
“Sure. She’ll welcome your advice about as much as you welcomed Dad’s.”
Our dad—the guy who worked 16 hours a day seven days a week; the guy who took thrift to embarrassing lengths; the guy who made a miserable second marriage after our mother’s death. We loved our dad, but taking his advice made less sense to Dooby and me than basing our decisions on soggy tea leaves or the position of the stars.
Not that making our own decisions worked terribly well for either of us. We’ve both pretty well blundered our way through life—making insane financial decisions and churning up marital discord along the way. No way do our kids want to repeat our mistakes—and no way do they think we’ve gained wisdom from a lifetime of spontaneous—often fun—but irrational choices.
Our grown kids don’t want coaching from us. They want cheerleading. And our kids are lucky. They’ve learned from our missteps and are free to make their own—outside the shadows cast by highly successful parents.
The Mormon tradition of calling each other Brother and Sister puzzles and amuses those outside the faith. But for Mormons, this nomenclature serves an egalitarian purpose—effectively reminding us that we are all children of the same Heavenly Parents. Of course, even in the best of families, children often resolve disagreements with insults and fists. But, for the most part, seeing ward members as siblings has a unifying effect. We contribute fast offerings to keep our sisters and brothers from going hungry. We sacrifice the comforts of home and hearth on cold nights to visit and home teach our sisters and brothers. We attend sometimes tedious meetings and socials to support those in charge. And we turn out in force to offer food, child care, yard work, house work, and other services as well as prayers when tragedy strikes members of our ward family. That’s what brothers and sisters do.
Would the world change if I saw people beyond my ward and stake boundaries as my sisters and brothers? Am I willing to pay a few cents more for fruits and vegetables so Brother and Sister Migrant Worker can earn enough to feed their families and send their children to school? Can I forego chocolate from companies that buy cocoa beans from Ivory Coast plantations which use my 11-year-old sisters and brothers as slave laborers? Will I lobby Congress to enforce the law banning electronics from manufacturers who use rare minerals from the Congo mining industry which supports the armies that regularly rape my African sisters? Will I actively protest my country’s involvement in wars that kill and mutilate innocent civilians? Taking these actions may not alter the world significantly but will change one person—myself.
Generally, we Mormons keep civil discourse in our interaction with each other. What if we could extend that courtesy to those outside our group? Referring to a person on the opposite side of our political fence as Brother Obama or Sister Palin might calm our rhetoric. But of course, extending family terms to others has a flip side. It’s entirely possible that the person I address as Sister or Brother might be thoroughly insulted at the thought of being related to me.
I’m becoming aware of two Mormon churches in the 21st century: The traditional church and a newer model. The traditional church features leaders like Julie Beck extolling ideal motherhood and general authorities like Boyd K. Packer condemning gays. This church defines gender roles rigidly. It emphasizes sexual purity, stresses modest clothing for girls, and obsesses over young males who masturbate to relieve sexual tension. This church insists Ezra Taft Benson’s 14 fundamentals for following the prophet are essential for salvation. (See Elder Costa and Elder Duncan’s October conference talks). This church harbors devotees of Glenn Beck-style “last days” and conspiracy theories.
The newer model Mormon Church seems to be led by the PR department, especially it’s “I’m a Mormon” series which recently included a segment of Irene Caso, a Spanish sister with a radio/TV career and a stay-at-home-dad husband. This church spotlights–and apparently approves of–testimony-bearing celebrities who follow their own conscience—career women like Marie Osmond and Gladys Knight—sports stars who play on Sunday like Steve Young. This church took a pro-active stand on humane immigration reform and is currently building environmentally-friendly meetinghouses.
Which church will dominate the 21st century? Of course, I’m hoping for the new, improved model. I suspect that if the traditional church continues, membership will continue at its current flat growth rate or even decline.
A recent newspaper photo of a Utah legislator sitting at his desk in the state capitol with a revolver strapped to his side says it all. This year the state legislature repealed the law prohibiting carrying guns within 1000 feet of a school so as not to interfere with a law-abiding citizens’ constitutional right to bear arms. A resolution to allow any citizen the right to carry an unconcealed weapon without a permit was proposed. Utahns worry a lot about the federal government taking their liberties. They rushed to purchase guns and ammunition as soon as Obama’s election was announced in 2010 knowing that Obama would take their guns away.
This paranoia extends beyond state borders. The controversial Arizona immigration law was written by a Mormon legislator. Although the Church officially takes moderate positions on both gun laws and immigration, Mormon political views do not reflect this moderation. I can’t help believing that the fear rhetoric heard in Mormon meetings creates a culture of fear that makes Mormons tremble for their personal as well as moral safety whenever they open their front door. It also feeds the perception that people of different color, religion, or even political parties are enemies.
Mormons hear on a near-weekly basis that Satan’s power is increasing and that the world is at near terminal wickedness. Boyd K. Packer opened his October 2010 conference address with this remark: “This General Conference was convened at a time when there is such confusion and danger that our young people hardly know which way they can turn.” If I took Pres. Packer seriously, I would probably stash a revolver in my purse even though I’m not one of the young people he worries about.
I doubt the Church wants members to be running around armed to the hilt or spouting wacky conspiracy theories. Leaders know this kind of behavior does nothing for Church PR. But I hope they will realize that fear rhetoric from official as well as grass roots sources feeds this problem. Plenty of positive reasons exist to motivate Mormons to keep the commandments and support the Church. Turn down the fear rhetoric!