the stigma of early return the stigma of early return - Sunstone ...

S U N S T O N E
as a proof of the existence of God. “We shall
now observe that part [of Noah’s prophesy]. .
. which relates to the sentence pronounced
on Canaan. . . . The whole continent of Africa
was peopled principally by the children of
Ham. . . . Egypt is often called in scripture
the land of Ham. . . . The inhabitants of
Africa have been bought and sold as slaves
from the earliest periods of history even to
the present time.” While this anthropology
obviously does not stand, we should remember
this use of the Ham story is not originally
Mormon but a cultural inheritance from a society
that needed such myths to support the
social institution of slavery.
KEVIN CHRISTENSEN
Lawrence, Kansas
ITS OWN REWARD
IMORE THAN APPRECIATED DONALD
L. Gibbon’s essay, “A Typical Sunday,” in
the March 2003 SUNSTONE. Our ward
boundaries encompass the Portland Oregon
V.A. Medical Center (hospital), and our high
priest group is assigned to visit out-of-state
members whose families are unable to travel
to Portland. Each time I return from one of
my visits, I am reminded that we do not need
a temple recommend nor a bishop/stake
president interview to help those with needs
including but not limited to the poor and the
sick. Mentoring a challenged, fatherless, or
disabled child is equally rewarding. There is
a “rush” from these activities I do not necessarily
experience at the veil.
JOHN EMMETT
Portland, Oregon
A TWO-WAY WINDOW
respondent, were delighted to be among
those who addressed that forum. Through
it, and through Peggy, we became aware of
a range of Mormon scholars we might otherwise
have neglected. Like all free-standing
religious publications, SUNSTONE
provided—and I trust continues to provide—both
a creative and intellectual outlet
for Mormons and a channel into the
ongoing Mormon experience. Peggy’s husband
Mike, though, was right to see
SUNSTONE as a rival. Putting out magazines
is all-consuming. But I trust Peggy has a
cache of back issues to show her children
and grandchildren. They should know
what captured her heart before their father
did. Magazines are like that.
KENNETH WOODWARD
Contributing Editor, Newsweek
New York City, New York
FEAR NOT YOUR LIGHT
I
WAS STRUCK BY A COMMENT IN
Lavina Fielding Anderson’s fine history of
Sunstone under Peggy Fletcher’s leadership
(SUNSTONE, Dec. 2002). It is the point when
Peggy spoke of having gargantuan piles of
work on her desk, yet of her being unable to
bring herself to cut off conversations with
people whose faith was in crisis. Those people
needed to talk, needed someone who understood.
As I read this, a twinge of envy
went through me.
When this Mormon son, emotionally exhausted,
limped out of Salt Lake City to disappear
many, many years ago, there was no
SUNSTONE, no Dialogue. A sympathetic ear
did not exist. How I would have loved one.
Bleak and empty, there was a hole in my soul
a Kenmore could drive through.
I drifted, wanting only to disappear, enjoy
some small peace of mind. What I couldn’t
IT WAS A PLEASURE TO READ THE
recent piece on Sunstone’s Peggy
Fletcher years (SUNSTONE, Dec. 2002). I
knew it was a struggle for Peggy to keep
the Sunstone foundation afloat for as long
as she did, but being smart, persuasive,
and doggedly dedicated as well as “waiflike,”
Peggy managed in a tradition of small
magazines that goes well beyond the LDS
Church to include some of New York’s
finest publications.
The author of the article might have
mentioned that Peggy made SUNSTONE a
window onto the Mormon world for those
of us fortunate to have contributed to it
and to the Sunstone Symposium. Among
others that could and should be mentioned,
theologian James T. Burtchaell,
CSC, former provost of Notre Dame, and
sociologist Peter Berger, as well as this corfigure
out is how the new bishop in each new
ward got wind of me. I moved an average of
once every year-and-a-half over a twentyfive-year
period. Didn’t matter. Home teachers
always ended up on my doorstep. Finally,
I solved the mystery. A dedicated father was
behind it all. So then came the post office
box and the unlisted number—more anonymous
with each passing year. What’s more, I
was the perfect dissident. All I wanted was to
be left alone. That’s when the Ensign began
showing up in my post office box.
Occasionally, I would browse a few pages.
One day, on one page, I counted the word
“obedience” twenty-two times. Anger forced
a different posture. I realized a huge ambivalence
hung over me. Everything I did was influenced
by the Church. I knew I had been
conditioned to silence. I thought back and
saw myself running from a religion that had
no intention of letting me go. I was the perfect
dissident member: silent and anonymous.
I have read many quotes through the
years. Two have stuck. Nelson Mandela said,
“We fear not our dark, but our light.” And I
realized I had been conditioned to fear my
light. The renowned editor Betsy Lerner
HER NAME HERE
MAY 2003 PAGE 3