Meeting Together

The Expectation

My feet tap—right, left, right, left. I gaze at the stand, adorned with the same red, orange, and pink swathes of fabric that have been here all week. On the screens, the message of the conference displays in French, Spanish, and English: L’ESPOIR EST LÀ. LA ESPERANZA ESTÁ AQUÍ. HOPE IS HERE.

Part of me wants to be hopeful about this World Conference, as this is an opportunity for me to better understand this other church. But another part of me doesn’t. As I frequently attend General Conferences of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have an idea of how church conferences should be, and this isn’t it. I can’t keep myself from picking each thing apart, comparing and contrasting, shaping this into something I can better comprehend.

General Conferences have been a part of the Restoration movement from its beginning, with the first occurring just two months after Joseph Smith, Jr. first organized the Church of Christ.¹ A few months ago, I was certain that the church I belong to, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, had preserved this structure and was the only organization that still practiced it. But that wasn’t true. Now, I nervously await the ordination of a Prophet-President of Community of Christ, a church that claims the same “one true church” status as my own.

In front of me and behind me, to my right and left, conference attendees excitedly chatter about topics I can’t hear. I stare ahead harder. I plaster a grin on my face. I think I’m right, so that means they have to be wrong.

Early in my life, I gained understanding of what a prophet was through a forever favorite primary song, Follow the Prophet. I won’t bother typing out all nine verses—which felt more like nine hundred verses when I was young. All you need to know is that it covers some basic characteristics of the Latter-day Saint conception of “prophet.” This song taught me that a prophet is one who is chosen by God for the role, who then preaches the word of God, leads God’s people, and, above all, humbly serves God. As per the illustrations in the primary songbook, a prophet also is a man with a long, white beard. The song teaches principles through the stories of Old Testament prophets, like Moses and Samuel, then applies these same principles to modern-day prophets of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.²

Nine stanzas isn’t long enough to get into the convoluted reality and diverse structure of the texts of the Hebrew Bible, so the song passed over those pesky passages like Joshua leveling Jericho or Elijah slaughtering the priests of Baal. I understand and appreciate the simple message of the children’s hymn, but the sentimental poetry of biblical leaders made me believe that prophets were perfect. People who questioned this were unenlightened and probably needed to pray for more faith.

The Experience

I first learned the importance of the where of religion from my Opa.

Opa was a historian, and he loved old buildings. Because he wrote a history on the Conference Center in Salt Lake City, Utah, every family gathering was a mini-lecture about the materials, techniques, and services used to construct this immense building. I learned this information as if it was church doctrine. It was genuinely shocking to me that no one else in my primary class, not even my teachers, knew that the pulpit of the building was made from the wood of President Hinckley’s own tree.

Opa had a granite bookend that always featured prominently on his bookshelf. When I visited his home, he would talk about how it came from the granite quarry up Little Cottonwood Canyon. That granite was first quarried by Latter-day Saints to build the Salt Lake City Temple. It was used in the construction of the Conference Center, too, which was why he had the block in the first place, a gift for writing the building’s history. To him, this stone was a beautiful symbol of faith, determination, and sacrifice.

Opa’s headstone is also made of Little Cottonwood Canyon granite.

In the present, I am seated in the Auditorium, Community of Christ’s large gathering place in Independence, Jackson County, Missouri. The space feels vast and empty. The people fill the entire floor, yet most of the building is air. The people shift from standing to sitting several times, as they have done in every gathering up to this point, but that doesn’t change the great space between them and the ceiling. It is distant, which makes it dark. Some lights are affixed to the ceiling, stars in a stormy night. The surfaces are uneven, but notes still bounce off in the right way.

Independence has long been a holy place within the Restoration movement, as Joseph Smith, Jr. prophesied that it would be the site of a future temple.³ Though the Saints were driven out of the county around 1833, the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints—later renamed Community of Christ—was able to relocate their headquarters back to this important location in 1920.⁴ Thus, the construction of the Auditorium here was a unifying beacon in a time of transition. Today, it still serves as the main gathering place for World Conference attendees, a place where friendship and peace are fostered. As such, the Auditorium is truly a symbol of Community of Christ.

For the most part, those gathered here today are delegates from congregations around the world who have volunteered their time to be active participants in this conference. Months earlier, these delegates were selected and endorsed by their respective mission centers, committing themselves to participate in the long process that is World Conference. All week, they have voted on issues and made their voices heard. Coming here is a true sacrifice. It is their presence that makes the Auditorium a meaningful place.⁵

Up to this point, I have attended several legislative sessions of World Conference, where delegates vote on all the issues of the church. Common consent is important in all Community of Christ decisions, as the people receive revelation from God. Their opinion is prophetic, thus every voice must be heard and considered.⁶ But this is a worship session, focused on personal devotion to God rather than the general business of the organization. During this meeting, Stassi Cramm, a woman, will be ordained as the next Prophet-President of Community of Christ.

I sing the hymns. My feet continuously tap. I pass the collection plate. I smile my forced smile. I watch the spiritual practice video, which has a meditative tone that is unfamiliar to my known structure of LDS General Conference. I anxiously await the ordination of the first female prophet of any church in the Restoration movement.

Before I even knew what World Conference was, my perception of prophets was greatly changed by one session of a religion course at Brigham Young University.

Dr. Seely began the class discussion by asking something to the effect of, “What were the characteristics of prophets in the Hebrew Bible?”

Without searching for it, the Follow the Prophet image appeared in my mind. Despite years of learning, this was still my go-to prophetic archetype. An unfailing servant of God. Had both complete knowledge and faith. A kind man who, despite his expertise, was deeply humble. Didn’t do things that Jesus wouldn’t do. Usually had a long, white beard. A role model. In a word, perfect.

To my surprise, Dr. Seely said, “Weird! The prophets were weird!”

I considered this for a moment. I guess that could be true, I’d seen some pretty weird missionaries pull off miracles during my full-time missionary service in Riverside, California. But why didn’t he lead with, “men of God,” or, “gospel messengers,” or anything that sounded even a little bit profound?

Dr. Seely went on to explain. The Hebrew Bible does strive to make the prophets look good, but it still points out some character flaws, often glaring ones. Further, some prophetic acts seem completely bizarre to the modern reader. To prove this, he showed us verses about Jonah hiding from God, Ezekiel baking bread over cow dung, and Jeremiah going without his loincloth for several days.⁷ I began to see that rarely, if ever, does the Bible claim a prophet to be perfect. Rather, the prophets are seen as rebels, often hated by most of the population. Truly, they are kind of strange.

For his final piece of evidence, he pulled up a memorable passage regarding Isaiah, a poetic prophet whose writings are greatly revered in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints:

To say the least, I was aghast.

“You have to remember,” Dr. Seely said at the end of the presentation, “that prophets aren’t the standard of achievement, the pinnacle of personhood. They’re just people that are wildly imperfect, yet inspired by God. And following people takes a lot of faith.”

The point was clear. I left class with a newfound understanding of the faith that human leaders demand, as well as gratitude that modern prophets aren’t imperfect in the same ways as Isaiah.

Throughout my visit to Missouri for World Conference, I have pondered my idea of prophets. Stassi does not fit with the Follow the Prophet ideals. I mean, she doesn’t—and never will—have a long, white beard. But if I learned anything from Dr. Seely, I know that simplified beliefs about prophets often aren’t true.

As I gaze at Stassi, the word I find to best describe her is competent. Here is a woman who is thoughtful and wise. She has delivered all of her addresses in a measured tone, carefully sharing her thoughts with the faithful delegates. Her voice is gentle, and she smiles at any mention of her family. Now, she looks at Stephen Veazey, the current Prophet-President, with respect and assurance.

My feet cease their rapid tapping, and my lips lose their superficial smile. I watch Stassi sit. I watch Stephen, the current Prophet-President, and Mareva, the President of the Council of Twelve, place their hands on her head. My heart slows. My eyes cannot look away. I am calm.

The unhopeful part of me resists this new feeling. Isn’t this a reverence I only feel for my own prophet, President Russell M. Nelson? I’m supposed to be feeling that Stassi does not have the same authority. I’m not supposed to be feeling the Spirit.

Stephen gives the ordination prayer, and his words about Stassi are eloquent. He affirms that this woman is competent, adding that she is kind, loyal, and true. “She is able,” he seems to say, and my heart echoes these words. I, too, know that she is able.

Stassi sits, firm and patient, as she listens to the ordination. When the prayer concludes, she stands and smiles, showing love and appreciation for her colleagues, her family, and her people. A new joy fills my heart, despite my reservations. She is competent. She is able. She will fill this role well.

I think of my own prophet, President Nelson. I wonder if this spiritual confirmation is different from the one I received when he was ordained. Maybe they were called to do different things, leading different groups, but does that change either’s role? He is the Prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She is the Prophet-President of Community of Christ.

Maybe, instead of deciding which role is better, I can be content with knowing that both roles matter.

When I was young, ּI wondered how my mom was able to sing songs without having to look at the music. I could do it with simple songs, but in church, my mom could sing a whole hymn without glancing at the page once.

“Mom,” I wondered aloud. “How can you sing without the words?”

“What, Jess?”

“You don’t have to read the words when you sing. How do you do that?”

She smiled. “Because I love them. I believe them. I sing to share my faith. So yes, I know them really well now.”

That idea stuck with me. If I sing these songs from my heart, I would learn them by heart.

It started to embarrass me that my older sister often had to point at the words we were on in the hymn book so I could follow along correctly. It was a religious version of those bouncy-ball sing-a-longs I saw so often on PBS Kids. Instead of being trapped in my remedial karaoke-fied musical worship, I wanted to be like my mom. I wanted to know the songs really well. I wanted them in my heart.

Week by week, I found hymns in sacrament meetings that spoke to me, that I believed were true. I read their lyrics over and over before and after they were sung. I pondered the meanings of these songs throughout the rest of my week, all while I hummed their melodies. My favorites slowly settled into my heart, their tune and poetry becoming accessible to me whenever I needed to deeply express my faith.

In the Auditorium, everyone begins singing, and the words are explosive. I listen to the smiles that frame the melody. I know these lyrics. I’ve known this song forever because I’ve allowed it into my heart. It is part of me. Yet, it is also part of them.

This is my church’s song, isn’t it? This whole time, we had been sharing it. I feel greedy that I had even thought that this hymn could only belong to one church. This community knows how to sing this song!

I sing right along. I don’t even need to look at the words.

The Change in Me

The crowd leaving the Auditorium is massive, more like a parade to the Temple led by Prophet-President Cramm. My fellow visitors—other invited guests from Brigham Young University—and I linger inside until the crowd dies down, when we’re finally able to make it into the foyer. Eventually, we are going to get to the celebration in honor of the new Prophet-President, but at the moment, there are so many people nearby that we need to talk to. One by one, my friends are occupied in conversations with others, and I suddenly find myself standing alone.

I step outside. The sky is dark and far away, just like the dome of the Auditorium had seemed. The roads going by Community of Christ’s buildings have been closed off for World Conference, so the street I step into is entirely free of cars. Besides the few stragglers inside the foyer that my group is busy talking to, all of the conference attendees are congregated now outside the Temple. I look at this illuminated building, just one block away.

I’ve heard of studies done comparing the demeanors of people adopted at birth to their birth parents. Despite the disconnect, there are sometimes overlaps in habitual actions; an adopted child and their birth parent might inexplicably fold their arms in the same way, or both bite their nails in similar situations.

Over this week, I have noticed many uncanny similarities between Community of Christ and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The differences between our faith traditions have faded into the background; I realize instead that this church and my church both ordain by the laying on of hands, both rely on personal revelation, both trust the general membership to lead the organization. I don’t feel so “right” anymore, because after observing Prophet-President Cramm’s ordination, Community of Christ doesn’t seem so “wrong” at all. There are differences, important ones, that set our faiths apart. But there are family traits in me that I share with them. These aren’t my enemies, but my brothers and sisters. And I need to be a better sibling towards them.

I close my eyes and replay the singing of The Spirit of God.

I’m glad that we share the same songs.

Thank you

Notes

1. Minutes, 9 June 1830, p. 1, The Joseph Smith Papers, https://www.josephsmithpapers.org/paper-summary/minutes-9-june-1830/1; and History, 1838–1856, volume A-1 [23 December 1805–30 August 1834], p. 37, The Joseph Smith Papers, https://www.josephsmithpapers.org/paper-summary/history-1838-1856-volume-a-1-23-december-1805-30-august-1834/43.
2. Duane E. Hiatt, “Follow the Prophet,” The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1989, https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media/music/songs/follow-the-prophet?lang=eng.
3. Revelation, 20 July 1831 [D&C 57], p. 93, The Joseph Smith Papers, https://www.josephsmithpapers.org/paper-summary/revelation-20-july-1831-dc-57/1
4. William W. Phelps and John Corril, “The Outrage in Jackson County, Missouri,” The Evening and the Morning Star, January 1834, 121-26. https://archive.org/details/EveningAndMorningStar18321834; and Mark A. Scherer, The Journey of a People: The Era of Reorganization, 1844 to 1946 (Independence, MO: Community of Christ Seminary Press, 2013), 418.
5. Interview with David Howlett. Notes in author’s possession.
6. Robin K. Linkhart and John Wight, “Episode 169: Common Consent,” February 27, 2019, in Faith Unfiltered: Brewing Justice and Peace, produced by Community of Christ, podcast, MP3 audio, https://www.faithunfilteredpodcast.org/episode-169-common-consent-with-john-wight/.
7. Jon. 1:1–16 (King James Version); Ezek. 4:9–17; and Jer. 13:1–11.
8. Isa. 20:1–4. Italics added by the author.
9. W. W. Phelps, “The Spirit of God like a Fire Is Burning,” in Community of Christ Sings, produced by Community of Christ (Independence, MO: Herald Publishing House, 2013), 384.