And I'm a Mormon

DISCLAIMER:  If you disagree with me, that's great.  I respect your views; and I won't get offended.  If you want to express it to me in a rude way in the comments, that's not allowed.  You are literally prohibited from saying it.  It's against the rules of this blog.

And another disclaimer:  I want to make it clear that I don't think Mormon republicans are bad, mean people, that they don't believe in being charitable, or agree with the ideas I'm about to talk about.  I just want to explain the link, in my eyes, between my politics and my religion.

I have been sitting on this blog post for a long time.  I've been writing it out in my head for months, and this typed version has been resting in my draft posts for about a week.  I really didn't want to post it, because I don't want to cause controversy or alienate anyone.  But I think it's important for me to express how I feel about my religion and politics.  I know people wonder how I reconcile being a Mormon with being a registered democrat.  Most people are surprised when they find out.  Some start to treat me differently, some think it's a funny quirk.  Some jerk in high school even went so far as to say that being a democrat should prohibit me from having a recommend to enter Mormon temples.  This isn't the case.  I'm a devout, happy Mormon and a strong democrat.  Here's how.

                                                                                                                                

These scriptures are why, in a nutshell, I am a Mormon and a democrat.

 Mosiah 4:19  For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind?
20 And behold, even at this time, ye have been calling on his name, and begging for a remission of your sins. And has he suffered that ye have begged in vain? Nay; he has poured out his Spirit upon you, and has caused that your hearts should be filled with joy, and has caused that your mouths should be stopped that ye could not find utterance, so exceedingly great was your joy. 
21 And now, if God, who has created you, on whom you are dependent for your lives and for all that ye have and are, doth grant unto you whatsoever ye ask that is right, in faith, believing that ye shall receive, O then, how ye ought to impart of the substance that ye have one to another.  

 I remember reading this chapter in the Book of Mormon as a freshman in seminary, and it really moved me.  It was one of the very first times that my fourteen-year-old self thought, "This is what I believe in and what I know to be true."  I'm crying just thinking about it.  It was a powerful experience.

I think these verses contain a universal truth; we can all understand it, religious or not.  If we are blessed, we have a moral obligation to give charity to other people.  If we understand that our blessings come from a forgiving and benevolent God, we will feel so much joy about it we will want nothing more than to be charitable.  There have been many times in my life that my mouth was "stopped" so that I "could not find utterance, so exceedingly great was [my] joy".  I am very blessed.  My life is wonderful, happy, and very easy.  And I understand that all of the blessings I enjoy come from God out of pure love for me.  It fills me with gratitude to God and compassion for others.

It's kind of an intense idea, especially if you aren't religious.  But the thing is, I believe it very deeply.  I believe that one of the main purposes of life is to become humble and compassionate--to recognize everything we should be grateful for and to feel the drive to help others.  I think you can't really have one without the other.  If you are grateful, you will feel compelled to help people.  Then, if you help people, the world will be better.  That's why we're here.  Funnily enough, Michelle Obama's speech at the Democratic National Convention played perfectly into this idea.

 I think the democratic party most closely aligns with this world view.  I really hesitate to say that, because I think the single-greatest problem in American politics is viewing the republican/democrat dichotomy as a good/evil dichotomy.  It simply isn't the case that one party has God on their side, and one party is of the Devil.  I think the partisan system exists to provide checks and balances--not to separate the righteous from the heathens.  Most of the people I am closest with are republicans, and I don't think they, or their political views, are evil.  Many of the leaders of the republican party are very good people.  (Except for Paul Ryan, who blatantly lied about his marathon time by an hour.  Not cool.) (Obviously that was a joke.)  I hope the people who associate with me feel the same way about me and the democrats.  The divide between political parties is not the same as the divide between right and wrong.

So let me say it like this:  I am not a democrat because I am a Mormon or vice versa.  But, for me, and me alone, the two belief systems compliment each other.  I am a Mormon because I believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ, because nothing brings me greater joy or peace than this church, and because I believe in the pure love of Christ.  I'm a democrat because I believe the government has an obligation to provide welfare to the poor, because I believe having access to affordable healthcare is a human right, because I believe improving K-12 public education should be a top priority, and because I fundamentally believe government can help people.

The year before I started seminary, 2004, was the Bush/Kerry presidential election.  I was in eighth grade, so I obviously didn't know very much at all about politics.  But I remember having a vague sense that John Kerry was the bad guy, because he was a democrat.  I was a Mormon, and we were supposed to be republicans.  Democrats believe in raising taxes, taking away our freedom, and worst of all, abortion--ideas I literally could not fathom supporting at thirteen.

But then I read the Book of Mormon.  I learned more about how government worked.  My worldview expanded, inch by inch.  I would like to clarify that I have always been and will be pro-life (not that I think there should be any sort of legislation passed about it), but I started to question some of the other things I was under the impression were evil.  I put it together that taxes paid for schools, roads, welfare, and government programs.  I thought those were really good things.  I thought of the above verses in Mosiah.  If we can help people by paying taxes, especially those who, in Mormon terms, are "less fortunate than us", we should do it gladly.          



The Mormon church has a position of political neutrality and, every year around election time, someone will read this statement at our Sunday meeting.  It brings me so much peace.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints cares that its members are informed and involved in the political process, and they trust each of us to vote according to our conscience.  Every time a member of the Church tells me that I am a bad Mormon when they find out I support Barack Obama, I take strength in this idea.  Nobody but the prophets can speak for God--and the prophets have told me to vote for the candidate I believe in.  So I'm going to do that.

My name is Amanda.  I love grocery shopping, my husband, reading, and eating delicious treats.  I am passionate about the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I'm voting for Barack Obama this November.  And...I'm a Mormon.            

The Importance of Reading Ernest

If I have learned anything from my college career, it is that Ernest Hemingway is my spirit author.

Spirit author=spirit animal, except for it's not an animal, it's a person.  Who is an author.

Anyway, Ernest Hemingway is my spirit author because, first of all, he is secretly a fox and I just love it when people are as attractive as the actor who would play them in a movie is.  You know?

Second of all, Ernest Hemingway is my homie because he has lots of really great quotes about writing that ring very true to me.  Such as the following:

But mostly because his prose is the most beautiful, spare, true prose I've ever read.  He is a masterful, clean writer.  

So, in everything I write these days, I earnestly (pun!) try to be like Ernest.  I tend to think, and talk, and write, in run-on sentences.  Followed by fragments.  And then run-on sentences, probably a lot of them, that use lots of clauses and commas, and go on forever.  And that's bad.  Because don't we all just want to talk about things as they are and should be in as few words as possible?  I'm trying to be more economical with my writing, but mostly with my real-life interactions.  If I don't have anything to apologize for, I shouldn't.  If I don't have to explain something, it should be left unsaid.  

It's important to say what I think, in the way that I mean.  But anything else I say is unimportant.   

That is my one great insight into life.

      

Read this.  It is by Ernest, and it is perfect.

I call Ernest by his first name.  Because he's my spirit author.

I just wanted to throw a Cinco de Mayo party.

This is what happened to me last night when I went to Rancho Grande Supermarket.

First of all, I walk in, realize immediately that this place is terrifying.  Flickering fluorescent lights, dirty floors, toothless people, spilled produce.  It is kind of like a nightmare.  But that's fine.  I am in the market for cheap, authentic Mexican groceries and I also think I am really hardcore and urban.

So, I start bagging some avocados (2 for $1!).  An old man walks up and says, "Avocados!  I love these!  Can I get them?" ...to no one in particular.  Then he looks at me and says, "Sorry, ma'am."  Oh yeah, he wasn't wearing a shirt.  Or shoes.

And I'm just like, "It's okay..."

Then I walk away and go to get some tomatillos (2 lbs for $1!).  A man comes up and also starts picking up tomatillos.  And then he starts talking to me rapidly and animatedly in Spanish and I am embarrassed to admit that with five years of Spanish classes under my belt, I couldn't understand anything he was saying except for the word "salsa".    And so I was like, "Si, salsa!"  And he was like "Si, salsa! Cilantro, onion, tomatillo..." and then I unfortunately couldn't understand anything else he said, which is a travesty because his salsa recipe is probably fantastic.  He forms his arms into a circle, like maybe he was making a bowl for salsa out of his arms?  And I was like, "si!  delicioso!"  And he was like, "me likey!"

And then I smiled and walked away.  I pick up a bunch of cilantro (for like 77 cents, maybe), and out of NOWHERE there is a tiny white woman in a hat and lots of layers of cardigans and she says, "Oh I just love this stuff" and brings a bunch of cilantro to her chest. And I say, "I also like cilantro."  And she says, "Oh, I just want to make a bed out of this stuff and sleeeep in it!"

And then I smiled and walked away.  I go to the canned goods section, pick up some chipotle peppers (2 cans for $1, natch), and of course, out of nowhere, the salsa guy is back.  And he points at the peppers and is like, "Oh, si, salsa!  Cilantro, onion, tomatillo..." while making a bowl with his hands.  And I say, "Oh, si!  Salsa!  Si."  And then he just keeps talking to me in Spanish, making weird gestures with his hands and I just keep nodding and saying si and then slowly walk away.

I pick up some other weird stuff like cotija cheese and Mexican jello (I got vanilla flavor.  It's going to be so gross but I want to try it.) and cake mix from the super clearance bin and hot sauce.  And then I spot some tortilla chips that look like they were made in-house and look so freaking delicious and crunchy.  So, I pick up three bags ($1.90 per), turn around, and there's the salsa guy.  "Chips!  Salsa, si? Cilantro, onion, tomatillo!"

And then he makes that bowl out of his hands again and I'm like,

to MYSELF.  Like, what is this conversation we're having really about?

I finally get to checkout and the checkout guy says, Buenos tardes!  but then sees me and is like Oh hey, how's it going.

A couple failed card swipe attempts later, he's handing me back my debit card, at which point he says, "Where did you get those beautiful eyes?"  which is the most awkward thing anyone has ever said to me ever so I'm like, "Oh, thank you."  But then he was like, "No really, you mother or your father?"

Like, he was genuinely just curious about my genetic make-up.  Not even hitting on me at all.  So I'm like, "Oh, my mom, I guess" and then I take my receipt and get the heck out of dodge.

Here's the scorecard:

Dollars spent: $33.19
Number of friends made: At least 4, am I right?
Utiles of street cred earned:  0
Number of secret salsa recipes acquired: 0
Likelihood I will return: 17%