On Wearing Pants

I still don't know if I will be wearing pants to church on Sunday. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. But a wonderful woman I know wrote this on her blog. I couldn't have said it better and believe me-- I have been trying to think of what to say. So I hope she doesn't mind if I copy her words. You can read her original here. She adds a great personal experience at the beginning which I loved. But here is the part that is what I would like to say as well (in her words):

I don’t resonate with the general feminist stance on the role of women in the church. And that’s all I’ll say about that. But I will say this about the people who do agree. I’ve read and heard their words. I know them. I’ve befriended them.  

And you know something? They, on the whole, are more thoughtful, more understanding, more introspective, slower to anger, slower to judge, more loving, more Christ-like than most of the “conventional” Mormons I have met. What’s more, these odd-balls, who seem always to interrupt the flow of Mormon culture, have inspired me in a way that has, over the years, built this great sieve of compassion within my mind through which my experience of humanity passes through. I am more like Christ because of them. The ones we so often consider controversial, too-sensitive, too malcontent, spiritually offensive even, have been my spiritual guides toward eternal perspective.  

I know one thing for sure about these souls, and more specifically about women who face struggles with reconciling gender equality. They are authentic. They aren’t making it up. And you know who else knows this? Christ. He suffered their pains just as they face them now, so He knows. Will we then, simply because we haven’t walked in their shoes, claim that their struggle is ill-founded? Will you tell Christ that too? He who bore that pain for and with them? Who bore your own pain as well? 

It’s not about the pants. It is about the pants. To me, it doesn’t really matter what it’s about. These precious souls are suffering. I will wear pants for them because I love them. I will bear possible judgment for my actions because I love them. Maybe not a single sister in my current ward is struggling. But then again, maybe one is. And maybe she feels alone. She might even be too frightened to wear pants herself. Is my search for the one worth the likely possibility that people will draw the wrong conclusion about my participation in such a “protest”?  

I’ve seen a number of well-meaning but misguided responses to the pants movement. One, the argument that this “protest” is disrespectful to the sanctity of our Sunday meetings, sacrament specifically. My thoughts are that the Sacrament is about communing with Christ. What else can we bring to the sacrament table but those things with which we struggle? Yes, the intention may be two-fold. It is, for many, a call for attention to those things with which they struggle. And you know what? That’s okay. Because the Sacrament was instituted because of our imperfection. Do we not also call attention to ourselves when we don't take the sacrament because of our suffering that makes us feel too far removed from Chirst's mercy? Well, I can tell you that those who feel ostrasized for their sentiments on female equality in the church often do feel removed from His love, and especially from the love of others. I've seen their tears with my own eyes. And the bottom line is it's being brushed aside as "sinful" or "testimony damaging." Too many want to shut the conversation down because it threatens the fabric of their testimonies. The beauty inherent here is that we all, whether pants or skirt wearers, will be meeting at His table, petitioning whether quietly or openly to that same God. The right people will hear the real message. I hear. The humble and charitable will hear. But most importantly, He hears. 

There are going to be many who have looked, are looking, and will look at those with pants with pity or even anger. Probably their meditations will be interrupted. Perhaps even their ability to perceive the Spirit. But the walk for everyone is a solitary one. What we choose to look at on our path is up to us. The more critical players in this are the ones who are hurting. And their pain is very very real.  

Don’t you just want to put your arms around them and tell them that you love them and that you understand what it’s like to struggle?

I do. So I'm going, with my pants-clad legs, for them. An embrace. They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. We, them, you, him, her, I. All are sick spiritually. Who is right concerning womens' roles in our church is not my concern, and I will not make an ultimate declaration about what is when it comes to gender and the Church.Ultimatums are dangerous. They stunt the growth of our souls and inhibit our journey toward becoming more like Him. 

So I’m here, sisters, brothers. I've heard you with an open heart. You are not alone. I want to help you bear your struggles, and if wearing pants can be a balm of Gilead for you, I will wear them. I love you.

I love you.