Anzac Day

April 24, 2015

Tomorrow, April 25, is Anzac Day, which memorializes men and women of the armed forces of Australia and New Zealand who have lost their lives in military service. The name comes from ANZAC (the Australia and New Zealand Army Corps), who fought for the British in World War I. These soldiers became known as “Anzacs,” and the name has endured.

The web site for the Australian War Memorial gives a good overview of the Anzac experience in World War I:

When war broke out in 1914 Australia had been a federated nation for only 13 years, and the new federal government was eager to establish its reputation among the nations of the world. When Britain declared war in August 1914 Australia was automatically placed on the side of the Commonwealth. In 1915 Australian and New Zealand soldiers formed part of the expedition that set out to capture the Gallipoli peninsula in order to open the Dardanelles to the allied navies. The ultimate objective was to capture Constantinople (now Istanbul), the capital of the Ottoman Empire, an ally of Germany.

The Australian and New Zealand forces landed on Gallipoli on 25 April, meeting fierce resistance from the Ottoman Turkish defenders. What had been planned as a bold stroke to knock Turkey out of the war quickly became a stalemate, and the campaign dragged on for eight months. At the end of 1915 the allied forces were evacuated from the peninsula, with both sides having suffered heavy casualties and endured great hardships. More than 8,000 Australian soldiers had been killed. The Gallipoli campaign had a profound impact on Australians at home, and 25 April soon became the day on which Australians remembered the sacrifice of those who died in the war.

Although the Gallipoli campaign failed in its military objectives, the Australian and New Zealand actions during the campaign left us all a powerful legacy. The creation of what became known as the “Anzac legend” became an important part of the identity of both nations, shaping the ways they viewed both their past and their future.

In Australia, Eric Bogle’s “And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda” memorialized the loss, although it’s not well-known in the US. (In a minor bit of heresy, I prefer the version by the Pogues).

Although Anzac Day was marked in 1916, a year after the landings at Gallipoli, the commemorations did not become officially recognized national memorials until the 1920s. By the mid-1930s, several traditions had been established in marking the day. In Australia, the day begins with the Dawn Service, which is about what it sounds like: a usually religious ceremony with a hymn, a prayer, two minutes of silence, and a bugle playing “Last Post,” which is analogous to the American “Taps”). Many people partake of “gunfire breakfast” (coffee and rum), which it is said soldiers would drink before battle to help build courage and calm nerves. At 10:15 a.m., a national ceremony is held at the Australian War Memorial.

I was first made aware of the Anzacs and the disastrous Gallipoli campaign when I was 16 years old. My friend and I went to see a movie (I don’t remember which one), but it was sold out. The other film showing that evening was “Gallipoli,” and from the posters we deduced it was a war film starring Mel Gibson, whom we had seen in “Mad Max.” So, we bought our tickets and walked in. When we left the theater, my friend said he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. So did I. Years later, when I was teaching freshman composition at Brigham Young University, I showed the film to my classes as a way of introducing them to analyzing art and literature.

Director and co-writer Peter Weir (better known for directing such films as “Witness,” “Dead Poets Society,” and “The Truman Show”) uses the conventions of war movies and then turns them on their heads. The first half of the film is a typical coming-of-age buddy film, with the two leads (Gibson and Mark Lee) going through silly and humorous adventures in trying to join the cavalry, and then shipping out to Egypt for basic training. But with an ominous blast of a ship’s foghorn as it arrives in Anzac Cove, Turkey, the film shows us in unsparing detail the brutality and senselessness of war. The final shot of the film is indelibly etched in my brain. I remember several students at BYU leaving the classroom in tears, and some expressed anger that I would show something so brutal to them (keep in mind the film is rated PG, so it’s remarkable that Weir makes such an impression without being overly graphic).

It seems kind of pathetic to recommend a film to commemorate the pointless loss of so many lives, but it seems to me that it’s easy for me, at least, to become pretty detached from the horror and suffering that is everywhere in the world. I read about car bombs and mass executions and drone attacks, and because I don’t know the people involved, it doesn’t touch me as it should. I’ve never had a good friend or relative killed in military action. My dad’s stepfather was a career cook in the Air Force, serving in England in World War II and in Korea, and my father-in-law was a self-described “pencil pusher” in North Africa in World War II, where he was never in combat. I can’t imagine sending one of my sons off to war, let alone having them killed. But it happens all the time. Even in places where the United States is not supposed to be in combat, such as Afghanistan, our young men and women are still being killed.

War isn’t going to end anytime soon. It seems to be the default human condition to be in conflict with one another and will likely be so as long as our species survives. But days such as Anzac Day remind us that war is not something to be glorified or celebrated, and the numbers on the casualty lists represent real people with real lives lost. But we can and should remember and honor those who gave their lives for us.


Bad Prose of the Day

April 7, 2015

http://www.koco.com/news/okc-police-1-shot-after-home-invasion/32219556

“Police said the homeowner was shot and killed after being transported to an area hospital in serious condition.”


Top Ten Things Overheard When President Obama Met with LDS Leaders

April 3, 2015

10. What do you mean, was it my mother or father who was “white and delightsome”?

9. We wanted to invite some prominent LDS Democrats to meet with you, but we couldn’t find any.

8. I really appreciate the family tree. I had no idea you could trace my ancestors all the way back to Cain.

7. What were you thinking, building a mall?

6. That’s a tie pin, not an emblem of my power and priesthoods.

5. Which one are you guys, again? Xenu or Moroni?

4. Does that jello have ramen noodles in it?

3. No, I’m not interested in Melaleuca.

2. That’s not the five points of fellowship; it’s just Joe Biden greeting an intern.

1. Why do you keep calling me the “so-called president”?


The Road to Apostasy

April 2, 2015

I have been thinking about the process of losing one’s faith and leaving the church. I’ve been told countless times that people who leave the church have done things the wrong way; it’s not usually a huge, obvious mistake, but a series of seemingly small and insignificant missteps along the way, that lead a person down the road to apostasy.

I thought of someone I’m familiar with (I’ll call him “H”) who has shared how he began this difficult journey and eventually found himself outside the church. As much as possible, I’ll try to let him speak for himself, in his own words. I readily acknowledge that I don’t see the mistakes, the missteps, that led H to lose faith, but I’m hoping–expecting, really–that some active members of the church will enlighten me and help me understand where he went wrong and how he could have salvaged his faith.

H did not grow up a member of the church, but when he was a young adult, he began to feel there was something missing in his life, and a chance encounter with members led him to investigate the church. Although he initially found the scriptures “impenetrable,” he felt the church offered answers to his questions and could help him to “actually handle life, and your problems, and not have them handle you.”

Joining the church gave H a feeling of belonging and a sense of purpose. “I did experience gains,” he says, and he felt he was able to let go of earlier guilt, feeling forgiven for “things I’d done as a teenager that I didn’t feel good about. I think I did, in some ways, become a better person. I did develop more empathy for others.”

H poured himself into church activity, becoming a leader and example to others. But some things about the church nagged at him because they just didn’t seem right. He heard rumors about the church’s origins and some disturbing stories about the church’s founder, whom he had come to revere. But he dismissed these concerns as fabrications from apostates. “There’s always disgruntled folks who say all sorts of things,” he thought. As H saw other church members testify of the blessings they had received, he wondered why he wasn’t seeing the same blessings in his own life. “Maybe there is something,” he told himself, “and I’m just missing it.”

Throughout his time in the church, he was always taught that either it was all true, or it was a lie. Although he struggled to believe the founding narratives of the church, he was told that, if what the church founder and witnesses had testified of had “never existed,” the church must be “based on a lie.” He decided that he would take a more liberal approach to his religion and live the church’s teachings on his own terms. He would “pick and choose” the parts of the religion he wanted to believe and disregard those things he didn’t like.

For a number of years, H continued in his journey of faith, but eventually, things came to a head in 2008, when H was horrified at the church’s public support for Proposition 8, the anti-gay marriage proposition in California. When he voiced his concerns to his church leaders, they downplayed the church’s role and urged him to drop the matter. A church member told him, “The church is not political. We all have tons of friends and relatives who are gay. … It’s not the church’s issue.” He knew that wasn’t true.

His frustration with the church led him to search the Internet for information about the church. Looking at unauthorized sources made him feel a little nervous, as he had always been taught that the only trustworthy information about the church was what the church published itself. His research uncovered a lot of troubling information, most of which would be familiar to my readers. But what struck him the most was seeing a high-ranking church leader tell an obvious untruth to a television interviewer. He met with “apostates” who had left the church, and many of them were angry, saying they felt “betrayed” by the church.

Feeling that his world was unraveling, H reached out to church leaders, who dismissed his concerns as being unfounded and urged him to rededicate himself to increased church activity to renew his flagging faith. After agonizing over his choices, H eventually realized that he could no longer be a member of the church in good conscience. He wrote a long letter explaining his decision and his reasons for making it, and sent it to his closest friends and leaders in the church. The response was unexpected. They insisted that he had listened to the wrong people and that he should have shared his concerns only with his church leaders, who could help him. Instead, he had listened to apostates and those who opposed the church, who were obviously lying. Besides, if he “genuinely wanted to change” the church, they told him, he “should stay within the organization, not quit; certainly, going public was not helpful.”

Although they tried to help him stay in the church, his friends and leaders reluctantly accepted his decision, but insisted that he keep his reasons for leaving to himself. Discussing what he had found out about the church could “damage” the lives of the faithful, and he had no right to do that. He told his friends about the information he had found on the Internet, urging them to see for themselves, but they were not willing to listen to information presented by enemies of the church. One friend told him that looking at those web sites was “like reading ‘Mein Kampf’ if you wanted to know something about the Jewish religion.”

Leaving the church has cost H relationships with some friends and even some family members. He has a keen sense of loss: “If you identify yourself with something for so long, and suddenly you think of yourself as not that thing, it leaves a bit of space.” But he is philosophical about it. “It’s not really the sense of a loss of community. Those people who walked away from me were never really my friends.”

What did H do wrong?


The Divide in Nauvoo

April 1, 2015

I can’t recommend enough this blog post from my friend Roger Launius:

Nauvoo and the Myth of Mormonism’s Persecuted Innocence

One quote stood out to me:

This mythic shift, the transmutation of the dissenters from innocent to evil, justified any and all acts of aggression on the part of the church against them. Of course, the tragic irony in all this is that the myth of innocence prevented the Mormons from learning from this history. So they reenacted it, with themselves in the role of the aggressors.

Growing up, I heard the tales of murderous mobs attacking the Saints in Ohio, Missouri, and Illinois, and it never occurred to me that there was anything to the story beyond religious bigotry and hatred. But there is always another side to every story, and as Roger explains, the “mobs” and their supporters adopted their own myth of patriotically standing up for liberty against despotism. It’s a common human thought process: you protect yourself by seeing the divide between you and your enemies in the starkest terms possible. That way, you don’t have to listen to their concerns, let alone consider those concerns legitimate in any way.

But in doing so, you don’t learn from history, and you tend to repeat it. I’m reminded of the Arab-Israeli conflict, in which both sides have so successfully dehumanized and delegitimized the other that the conflict seems destined to continue in an endless cycle of repeated history.


Recommend to Be Required for Conference Attendance

April 1, 2015

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints announced today that, beginning with next week’s April general conference, no one will be admitted into a conference session without a special, single-use, conference recommend.

“We wanted to make conference an even more special experience,” explained church spokesperson Dale Overtsen. “When members realize they need to be spiritually prepared and worthy to attend these sacred gatherings, they tend to understand that these are not ‘just another meeting.’ ”

The construction of the Conference Center, completed in 2000, has made it possible for many more church members to attend conference sessions. As with all things, Overtsen explained, “perhaps familiarity and availability have made conference seem like something routine and mundane. The Brethren feel the new recommend policy will go a long way towards reversing this perception.”

As in years past, members wishing to attend must have a valid ticket for a specific session. This April, members wishing to secure tickets must meet with their bishop and stake president to assess worthiness and ensure willingness to adhere to church standards while in attendance. Members traveling from other locations can obtain a recommend from a special kiosk just south of the Salt Lake Temple, where there will be bishops and stake presidents specially set apart for temporary recommend duty.

When asked what questions are asked for the recommend, Overtsen declined to provide specifics but said, “Generally speaking, we want to make sure that members are dressed appropriately and covenant to maintain a reverent, spiritual atmosphere inside the Conference Center.”

Overtsen suggested that the recommend questions might be compared to Brigham Young University’s Honor Code, in which students agree to maintain dress and grooming standards and follow the church’s teachings and commandments. “We haven’t seen a lot of flip-flops or facial hair at conference,” Overtsen said, “but it happens. And we certainly want to avoid any unseemly displays or outbursts in what should otherwise be a very reverent and spirit-filled meeting.”

Asked if the recommend requirement reflects the church’s concern with rumors that an organized group of dissenters plans to oppose the sustaining of church leaders, Overtsen was emphatic: “We don’t change our policies because some loud-mouths, probably in flip-flops and beards, think they can get attention by publicly opposing the Lord’s anointed. This has nothing do with that at all. In fact, I hadn’t even heard of such a plan until you mentioned it just now.”

Overtsen said he was “confident” that there would be no trouble at the conference this year, “other than those so-called Christian yay-hoos outside the gates. Inside, everyone will be facing the same way, as always.”

 


Why I Don’t “Move On”

March 31, 2015

I sometimes think I suffer from a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder related to my 40 years of activity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. For many years I had vivid nightmares in which I was a missionary again; in the dreams I knew I had a life and a family, but I was back in the mission and I couldn’t go home. I would wake up sweating and shaking, so relieved it was just a dream. These dreams finally faded away after I spent 5 weeks writing down everything I could remember about my missionary experience (this was the raw material that formed the basis of my book, Heaven Up Here).

As I noted in the last post, I watched part of “Going Clear” on HBO on Sunday night and the rest on my lunch hour yesterday. I can’t quite describe the feelings it has dredged up, sort of a horrified, outraged sorrow that I can’t shake. It took me a long time to get to sleep last night, even though I took my night-time medication at the usual time.

Why did it affect me like this? Because I know what it is to be used and manipulated and controlled. The worst thing about it is that I allowed it to happen to me. I let other people tell me I was no good and that the only way I could hope to be better was to dedicate myself entirely to the program they prescribed for me. I gave up my life to follow someone else’s script for me. I tried so hard to be what I was supposed to be that I almost scrubbed away every trace of who I really am inside.

It’s been 9 years since I acknowledged to myself that I knew Mormonism wasn’t right or true or good or whatever you want to call it. Mormons keep telling me I should be “over” it. I should leave it alone, stop being so negative, stop obsessing, whatever. It’s not healthy for me to continue thinking about it. I need to forgive and forget and “move on.”

Fuck that.

What “Going Clear” reminded me of is that there are organizations and people out there who do real damage to people. Scientology is a good example, and I applaud people like Paul Haggis and Mike Rinder for having the courage to speak out and continue to fight the good fight. Mormonism is–to me, anyway–not nearly as extreme as Scientology, but it too is a controlling, manipulative organization that hurts people. It hurt me, but more importantly, it’s still hurting other people. A lot of them. I think of the pain that one of my cousins went through when he told his family he didn’t believe in Mormonism. He felt, rightly, that he was being condemned and ostracized simply for expressing his beliefs. Family and friends and church leaders told him to shut up and keep his thoughts to himself, just as family and friends insisted that Paul Haggis destroy his letter of resignation from Scientology and “leave quietly.” That happened to me, too. I was told over and over that it was OK to believe whatever I wanted, as long as I never told anyone else about it.

I think of the families who have been broken up, the lives destroyed, because the LDS church cannot tolerate or respect those who lose faith. The church teaches that people like me and my cousin are apostates who are bitter and evil. Our loved ones grieve over us because we are supposed to be lost and angry, kicking against the pricks. I’ve been told I have stolen my family’s exaltation, broken my wife and children’s hearts, rejected God and Jesus and everything that is good in this life. Even when someone in the LDS church has tried to understand and maintain a relationship, there’s always been a wide gulf between us, and it’s extremely awkward.

Obviously, it’s not all on them. But I have made a concerted effort not to make religion a point of division with my family and friends. I don’t talk about my beliefs or why I hold them with those around me. Even when I’m asked, I only share things if I think there is a possibility for a good conversation and a positive outcome. In short, in my personal relationships, I follow a strict “live and let live” philosophy where religion is concerned, and I never bring it up.

That brings me to my blog. Despite my best efforts to stop thinking about Mormonism, it is part of just about every day of my life. Just three days ago, the missionaries dropped by unannounced to try to get me to “commit” to attending church on Sunday. The LDS church inserts itself into my life all the time. My well-meaning LDS friends and relatives send me stuff all the time. My mom tells me every week about the wonderful experiences she has at church. One of my children attends an LDS-owned university.

So, I write about Mormonism as it comes up. And because it comes up all the time, I tend to write about it more often than not. Because of that, I have had a steady stream of commenters who tell me how wrong it is for me to write about Mormonism, how I will never “heal” as long as I can’t just forgive the LDS church, walk away from it, and “leave it alone.” They are, they tell me, simply concerned with my mental and emotional well-being.

No, they are not. They are protecting their church from perceived harm. They know what the church is and what it does to people, but they have decided that the organization is far more important than the well-being of anyone who is harmed by it. As long as they get what they want from the church, to hell with everyone else.

And that’s why I still care about Mormonism and what it does to people. As long as it continues to hurt people, I will continue to speak out.


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