I'm remembering my first date. I was sixteen. I'm remembering the way he spat his questions at me as he drove me home--the way he explained to me, so condescendingly, that I was going to go to hell and the way he told me that I was part of a cult; the way he made references to white robes and magic underwear.
I'm remembering those parents who refused on almost every occasion to allow their child to
see me outside of school.
I'm remembering the rejection letters from the Christian private school down the street that refused admittance to Mormon children.
I'm remembering the teachers that I invited to a teacher appreciation event, who took one look at the event's location and made up excuses as to why they wouldn't be attending.
I'm remembering the visit I made to a neighboring church, under the promise that if I did, my friends would come visit mine- and I remember the hurt that came when they later refused to walk through the doors.
I'm remembering the boy who sent me incessant messages over facebook, full of questions so obviously intended to confuse me in and shake me from the things I know with all my heart.
I'm remembering the condescending jokes; the rumors; the unasked questions.
But...
But I also remember those who were accepting; Those who celebrated with me the value of the religion I live. I remember the people who came to church with me just to try it; just to gain a better understanding of what I believed. Who visited the temple with me during its open house; who won't necessarily ever appreciate it the way I do, but who gave it enough of a chance to realize its beauty and tranquility.I remember the people who listened to me: the people with whom I openly discussed religion, who taught me so much about what they believed and were receptive to what I had to say as well. I remember the people who never cared a whit about religion, but who cared about equal treatment and freedom of practice- and made it known. I remember the people who stood up for me when I felt attacked. The people who would never reject a presidential candidate or a classmate or a friend on the grounds of a religion, especially without truly learning about that religion from true authorities of it. (And that, my friends, can go very far beyond the skeptics of the LDS Church- that can go to critics of Islam, of Athiesm, of Catholocism. Of any religion!)
More than anything, I remember their respect.
They weren't members of my faith, and they didn't have an interest in it.
But they respected it, and the respected it's members- not as Mormons; not as Christians. Not as intellectuals. Not as potential leaders.
As people.
As people.
Twice a year, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints holds a two-day General Conference in Salt Lake City, Utah, which is broadcast across the entire world. Members who have the opportunity to attend the broadcast in person are met, each April and October, by a series of protestors who flash picket signs and who scream and yell their profanities and their opinions of our people- that we are a God-forsaken, hell-bound network of deceived and unenlightened.
What they don't realize, I'm convinced, is that their efforts are so much in vain:
We are a people with an identity. We know who we are. We are children of God; we are brothers and sisters of Christ. He is central, not only to our faith, but to our salvation. Joseph Smith receieved revelation from God concerning the restoration of His church- but Joseph Smith would have been horrified had he thought, for a moment, that members were worshipping him in the slightest degree. He gave his life for the work, not only on the day that he was martyred by a mob in Missouri, but from the time he was fourteen years old.
We revere Joseph; he is one of our great examples and one of our greatest heroes.
We do not worship him.
It seems unlikely, to me, that a man such as Mitt Romney- perfectly qualified, and perfectly American- will ever have a legitimate chance to reach the Presidency. But it is not because he is unable, or ineligible.
It is because this nation, built so much on claims of freedom and on equality and on equal opportunity, is so full of people who act without knowledge and without understanding- without those traits, and without any desire to develop them.
Bravo.
(It's not about conversion. It's about education.)
