Like Judaism, Reform Mormonism is essentially a personal and family-based faith and practice. Like Christianity, it has its rituals and liturgy. In Judaism the synagogue is essentially a study hall; in Reform Mormonism, the home is the synagogue. In Christianity the church is a central meeting place for liturgy and ritual; in Reform Mormonism, the home is the meeting place.
The organizational structure of Reform Mormonism is exactly the opposite of the LDS organization. The LDS structure is similar to what you might see looking at a company organizational chart, showing the CEO at the top, vice-presidents grouped below the CEO, connected by lines, and so on down through the upper management of the organization until you reach a level where there would be too many names to place on the chart to make it fit.
In the case of the LDS church, this hierarchy starts with the President of the Church, then down the Quorum of 12, then the two Quorums of 70, and basically ends there, as the next level down becomes too large to fit on a manageable chart. In fact, the graphic just described is distributed by the LDS in their magazines and you will find it tacked up in prominent places in LDS homes, as those on the chart are thought of as the General Authorities of the church. It is highly corporate and something you would see at any large company. Many Christian religions, with governing corporate bodies, are organized this way.
On the other hand, Reform Mormons do not believe that the proper role of a church in their lives should be one of governance. They tend to feel that the appropriate role of a church is to support the individual, not to govern it. This is in complete harmony with the Reform Mormon’s views on individual progression and cosmology. So, there is no organizational chart of those in “authority” over a Reform Mormon, because no one is in authority over them, and never will be. Organization that exists around the Reform Mormon movement comes only as a support for individuals, not as a correlated and enforced system – because a correlated, authoritative system would be anathema to individual progression.
Suggestions for liturgy and ritual, based upon Mormon tradition and ideas, but incorporating new ideas for our day, are offered as assistance to daily life and family practice, but their invocation and ongoing use are not considered required, essential, or indicative of righteousness, as might be the observation in other traditions and religions.
The tradition of Reform Mormonism is one that honors important spiritual events from our collective past, and creates new moments of honor and reflection. It is essentially personal in nature, as it revolves around ideas that foster individual action to progress. Since learning and progression are ideals for Reform Mormons, liturgy and ritual can sometimes be viewed as problematic – routines can so often become tedious, and seem to arrest progression rather than foster it. To this end, liturgy and ritual within Reform Mormon practice is highly fluid and subject to never-ending piques of interest.
We might take a moment to discuss what is meant by liturgy and ritual, words not often heard in LDS or Mormon circles, but common to many other religious faiths. The LDS believe that their faith is the “one true church,” and therefore don’t see much expediency in learning about the other faiths of the world – the idea being that such learning is a waste of time, since they already have and know the truth; searching and studying other faiths would not be a search for truth, but just an exercise, an act of wading through other’s errors and mythology with little to be gained other than familiarity with their errors. Reform Mormons see it differently. We see truth in all things, and feel that in order to grow and progress, we must continually be discovering the truths that exist in the world, many of which are contained in the other religions of the world, in other cultures, in nature, and in science. To Reform Mormons, the exploration of these yet-undiscovered (yet to be individually experienced) truths is the whole purpose of life. This is why we so whole-heartedly reject the idea of a “one true church” and the insular, “what more is needed?” attitude it creates – we view that as a dead end.
Individual progression – and the act of supplying support for it – is a tricky business. Organizations with massive resources attempt to do it, experiencing limited success and some failure. It cannot be assumed that everyone is at the same stage of progression. You can’t even effectively group people into smaller sets and suppose that you can provide appropriate support. Each person is at a different place on the path, and the next steps for any individual may or may not be the needed next step for another. For example, why is it that there are so many different religions in the world, all attempting to supply their adherents with care? And why defection from one religion to another? How can two people listen to a musical rendition, perhaps a piece of music considered the most inspirational ever written, and one individual feel moved while the other feels nothing? How can two people look at the same piece of art and one have a transcendent experience while the have nothing? It’s long been thought that the smaller a class size, the higher the quality of education – yet large universities feel a quality experience can be had by a class of two hundred. And most people would admit that if a class size of twenty is better than thirty, ten would be better than twenty (and many are willing to pay for this preference, recognizing its superiority.) Reform Mormons believe that everyone is at a different place in their progression through life. At different points in the progression, certain things are needed for the next steps to occur. Any system that attempts to provide all of the correct next steps, at the correct times, for everyone across the board, is going to fail – it is too complex to be done universally, correctly. This is evidenced by a fifty percent dropout rate in the LDS church, a church comprised mainly of converts who left some other approach to join the LDS. If a class size of ten is better than twenty, then certainly five is better than ten. Why? The theory is that those providing the instruction can spend more customized, individual time with those in the class, creating a better learning experience – faster progression. And if a class size of five is better than ten, isn’t a class of one better than five?
It would seem so, but not always, not exclusively. Learning tailored for one individual fosters individual progression, but limits the individual’s ability to experience learning from a group. There is a balance between the two approaches that must be achieved. Even the correct balance is different for each person, with some doing best with little or limited group experience, while others learn best – thrive – with less individualized care. It is this variance from person to person in the needed balance between individualized attention vs. group learning that creates the complexity that limits the effectiveness of each educational system and its approach.
Reform Mormons believe in each individual taking control of the management of this balance. Individual action to fine tune the inputs from both methods are required. And the balance changes for people over time, even on a day-to-day basis. Yesterday’s curriculum may not be the best next step for today’s experience. (Ever had the experience where none of the books you’re currently reading appeals to you? You don’t know why, you just know that they don’t?)
The word ritual, for Reform Mormons, means nothing more than “a method of procedure faithfully followed.” The word has no inherent negative overtones. However, most religiously prescribed rituals become problematic for people. At first, there is the challenge of proficiency – for some, this is exciting, for others, just horrible. This can be demonstrated for LDS adults by the surprised reaction of those who have just experienced for the first time the Endowment ritual, and considered it enlightening, beautiful, transcendent – only to learn that other new initiates found it frightening, weird, or ugly. Later, the challenge is overfamiliarity – for some, slipping into a mindless routine becomes mystical, like an endlessly repeated chant achieving a state where enlightenment occurs; for others, it becomes stifling. To again use the LDS Endowment ritual as an example, many long-time patrons seem energized and enlightened by their thousandth repetition; others are seen to be nodding off (temple workers are routinely on the lookout for those who have become “too relaxed” during the ceremony, and gently awake them.) To many who hold an an LDS or traditional perspective, some of these four reactions (initiate is attracted, initiate is repelled, veteran is engaged, veteran is bored) seem wrong or inappropriate. To those who are anti-LDS, the opposite reactions seem wrong or inappropriate. To Reform Mormons, all four reactions are appropriate. It’s not the people who are “wrong,” it’s what’s being presented as the best next step that’s wrong. At the right time and place in a person’s progression the Endowment may be a great thing. For many people it may never fall as the next best step.
Therefore, Reform Mormons – rationally and pragmatically – view ritual as a tool, not as a saving ordinance. All religious rituals become available to Reform Mormons. Reform Mormon tradition centers around rituals unique to Reform Mormonism, but not at the exclusion of the world’s offerings of ritual. And the same is true of liturgy, which we define as public ritual. Reform Mormons can be as comfortable in a Catholic mass or reciting Jewish prayers in a synagogue or enjoying a gospel choir in a Baptist service or chanting prayers in a Buddhist temple as they are conducting their own traditional rituals. This is a radically different approach to ritual and religious practice than that known by most of the world, but it is critical to Reform Mormon basic tenets and concepts of the necessity of individual progression. It also fully engages the Reform Mormon tenet and concept of individual responsibility and accountability – this approach forces a dramatic shift of responsibility for the welfare of the individual from the church or organization to the individual themselves. It is not Reform Mormonism’s job to foster the progression of its adherents; it is the job of each individual Reform Mormon to foster their own progression. Reform Mormons have a deep belief in free agency, the individual’s freedom to choose each next step they take. With the responsibility comes the accountability for the steps taken. The steps are not to be prescribed by or attributed to a church.
Deciding to engage or disengage a tool such as ritual is important. It must be made with our responsibility for free agency in mind. Since most religious rituals do not involve harm, the choice can be made with little risk, the worst-case usually being boredom, or a lack of movement. Going to a Catholic mass and participating in that ritual involves little physical risk. Some religious rituals that involve physical harm should be carefully evaluated prior to engagement. These are varied and can run the extremes from simple fasting – inappropriate and dangerous for some, highly beneficial to others – to rituals that many may consider painful or dangerous (the traditional Blackfoot sundance ritual comes to mind) which though considered extreme by many, have been – and continue to be – engaged successfully by many thousands. Each Reform Mormon must make up their own mind in these matters. Ritual may appropriately not even be desired or engaged.
Most religious rituals have borrowed from other traditions in their formation, and have evolved into something unique as they specialized and concentrated upon their application to a particular group of people. Some may feel that rituals were diluted, not concentrated – this can be the perspective when the ritual is altered in an attempt to make it appeal – or serve – a larger or growing group of people.
Many have concerns about secrecy and ritual. This is particularly true of LDS temple ritual. However, secrecy and religious ritual have long been companions. At many points in history, secrecy symbolized the hidden, or “to be revealed” aspect of ritual, seen as necessary in order to have the experience of revelation, or revealing. It engages the idea that if all is revealed, then the act of revealing cannot be performed with meaning. These approaches felt that the ritual had more depth and meaning when it involved a revelation – a revealing – of something not commonly known or discussed. The moment of the revealing became an opportunity for individual closeness to God and reflection upon the veil. The perspective is that the desired moment – the purpose of the ritual – cannot be achieved if it is common and always available; the distinction between normal living and moments of approaching the veil dissolves and a new method is needed to create the contrast. This may seem like a game, but all ritual is a game; not a game in the sense of a competitive sport, but it is “an active interest or pursuit…involving adherence to rules,” one of the definitions of “game.” Creating contrasts in life has long been seen as a method for learning and growth. Once the contrast appears, you draw learning from it. Secrecy is just another method for heightening the contrast. It’s useful in some applications; it may not be appropriate or useful for some people. The idea that some things are kept secret because they are “sacred” is merely a personal choice. Things are made sacred by individual choice, the personal investment or attribution of sacredness made by one person towards something special – usually demonstrating high contrast to the banal – to themselves; this is why so many things are sacred to some and insignificant to others. Calling something sacred does not make it so, but treating something as sacred fulfills the test of integrity (saying something and then doing what you say) and therefore creates – as a result of choice and creative intent – sacredness. LDS temples are not sacred unless they are treated as sacred. Secrecy therefore merely heightens the aspect of sacredness – there’s nothing wrong with that. To someone who has not invested the LDS temple with a personal sense of sacredness, the place and rituals should be treated with respect, just as we would treat any religious place considered sacred by its adherents to be worthy of respect. Secrecy, understood in this context, is nothing conspiratorial, fearful, or, as some suggest, indicative of things so problematic that to reveal them commonly would expose something shocking, disruptive, or troubling. There is nothing to be objectively discovered about the LDS from their endowment ceremony not already attainable via the accurate histories and policies of that organization other than the value of the ritual in binding adherents to the organization, something already considered part of the purpose of most any religion’s ritual. Only the value of knowledge obtained in exposing the secrecy and moment of revelation can be achieved in a limited fashion, and this comes at the price of diminished experience if the ritual is ever engaged. Anyone who has read a ritual and experienced a ritual will tell you that the two can be vastly different experiences.
Reform Mormons also operate with a sense of diaspora, though they have never experienced an original dispersive event. We find ourselves living with its symptoms nonetheless, since we exist as a small but growing group, in many cases kept apart from group ritual, community or gatherings by distance. Ongoing religious ritual and practice in this condition must then revolve around the home and personal life rather than the communal experience. Liturgy for Reform Mormonism, then, is yet to evolve. The pinnacle of Mormon liturgy, similar to Jewish faith and based upon Mormon tradition, is the temple and the temple experience. For the Jews, the Temple is something to yet to be restored; for the LDS, temples are being constructed worldwide at a blinding pace. For Reform Mormons, the temple – and what that means – is yet to come, but it is coming, and will come, as Reform Mormons progress.