MOTHER and Mimi were sitting in Mimi’s living room sharing a lengthy and heated discussion about theology. I listened. Their conversation was about women holding the priesthood and having equal authority with men before God. Mimi argued that the power structure of the Mormon Church would never allow women to have parity, because central to the religion is the subjugation of women.
Mother said, “The men can have their priesthood. Who wants it? Women have their own power, and it doesn’t have to be codified.” Mother expressed her love for the gospel, her belief in Christ, and how she was very comfortable with her power as a woman and mother within the Church.
Mimi pushed further, calling the twelve apostles “old goats” afraid of sex, therefore obsessed with it. She went so far as to call the Mormon church “demonic” in its arrogance and superiority. At that time, prior to 1978, African Americans were not allowed to hold the priesthood, their dark skin evidence of past ancestral sins tied to Cain and the murder of his brother, Abel.
“How do you account for both sexism and racism?” Mimi asked. “These are the prejudices of man, not God. The Mormon god is very, very small.” And then she quoted Joseph Campbell. “I believe in a God beyond God.”
I felt as though I were at a tennis match watching the ball fly back and forth across the net between players with speed and agility.
“I’ll bet you felt differently when you were raising your sons,” Mother said.
“Yes, I did,” Mimi responded, “but that was more than forty years ago. I hope I have changed from the woman I was at thirty-five to the woman I am at seventy.” She looked at Mother. “The world is changing, Diane. We are living at a transitional time in history. The Church will have to change because the women in the church are changing.”
Mother stood up. “There are some truths that endure.” As she walked out the door, she turned and said, “Kathryn, I don’t ever want to hear another negative comment about the Church spoken in front of my children again.”
Mother left. I was staying overnight. Mimi and I were on her front porch when she picked up her clippers and said matter-of-factly, “Diane is about to leave the Church.” Mimi leaned into her garden and cut a bouquet of tea roses, pale yellow tinged with pink. “Let’s put them in a vase, shall we, dear?”