This archive Sunday post by EmilyS, originally appeared at fMh on October 23, 2005. To see the original post and comments, go here.
I awakened today from my Sunday afternoon nap with the image in my mind of a circle of brethren blessing an infant. As I lay all snug in my blankets, I remembered how snug it felt to be inside just such a circle when I was confirmed, the world blocked out by so many suitcoats, the warm weight of so many large, steady hands balanced carefully on my bowed head. I thought about how comforting and powerful these circles seemed to me as a child, and how I would smile as groups of friends, cousins, uncles, and grandfathers would saunter up to the front of the room, clap each other on the shoulder, and close ranks around a tiny babe.
This image, brought no doubt to the front of my mind by having just read and reread J. Stapley’s truly interesting posts on Women and the Priesthood (found here and here – do read them), is something I had not thought about in a long while (our ward doesn’t get much action), and I found myself wondering what that tightly woven ring of woolen suitcoats might feel like to a mother whose baby is cocooned inside of it, whose male family members form it, and who is essentially locked out of it. This circle is the first in a long line of blessings, ordinances, and ordinations–all of them milestones in the lives of her children, and all of them closed to her.
But why? Even leaving aside, for the moment, the question of women recieving ordination to the Priesthood, it would seem that there is no reason for women –right now, today– not to at least participate in these circles, and join with their families in the laying on of hands, so long as a Priesthood holder does the talking. J. Stapley’s most recent post quotes Joseph F. Smith on this matter:
A wife does not hold the priesthood in connection with her husband, but she enjoys the benefits thereof with him; and if she is requested to lay hands on the sick with him, or with any other officer holding the Melchizedek priesthood, she may do so with perfect propriety. It is no uncommon thing for a man and wife unitedly to administer to their children, and the husband being mouth, he may properly say out of courtesy, “By authority of the holy priesthood in us vested.” (Improvement Era, 1907, vol. 10 pg. 308, emphases mine).
Granted, this quotation deals specifically with blessing the sick, but why could the concept not extend to things like baby blessings and confirmations, especially as they relate to mothers and children? Can there not be a middle ground that allows women participation in these sorts of events without compromising the male sphere of Priesthood holding (because I think we can all agree that the P-hood won’t be given to women any time soon, if ever)?
I love these rings, and I count them among the more powerful images and experiences of my spiritual life. However, I can’t help but wonder how much more powerful that ring image might be if it included the mothers, aunts, sisters, and grandmothers, too. How much more comforting might the weight of those hands be if it included the loving hands of a mother? How much stronger would the fabric of our membership be if we could witness not only the the fellow-ship of these rings, but the intertwining love, strength, and faith of both sisters and brothers?
Or am I wrong? Is there something about the mere presence of women that would somehow undermine the power, authority, or mystique of the circle? Should there never be any middle ground, even if there could be?