A few Sundays ago, after mentally slogging my way through another sacrament meeting-a feat made possible only by focusing almost exclusively on the latest issue of American Short Fiction-my 11-year-old daughter gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then she laughed and said, “Dad, I’ve figured it out. You’re a church loser. You come and everything, but nobody asks you to do anything.” Then she gave me another hug and scampered down the hall to her primary class.
If my religion were a sports stadium, then I’m in the nosebleed section. I’ve got a big Diet Coke, a bucket of popcorn, and the field is the size of a postage stamp.
It’s no secret that I’ve got a lousy seat. I remind myself that I haven’t always been a church loser. I can remember the congratulatory backslapping that accompanied being asked to serve in visible positions of authority. That was four or five years ago.
Now, I’m a Mormon in the cheap seats. It’s a label I came up with myself. Yesterday I went to godaddy.com and registered it.
There are all sorts of labels. The Salt Lake Tribune did a piece on it. There are Iron Rodders, Liahonas, TBMs (true blue or true believing Mormons), NOMs (new order Mormons), Open Mormons, Internet Mormons, Chapel Mormons, Uncorrelated Mormons, the DAMU (the disaffected Mormon underground), Jack Mormons, Cafeteria Mormons, PostMormons, ExMormons, and anti-Mormons, to list a few. Many of these labels have their own Wikipedia entries. Some have their own websites.
In my stadium, the ticket takers are inside the building, not on the outside. They’re standing in the aisles down close to the field. And they’re not just checking tickets, they’re selling them (and they’re doing their darndest to get people sitting higher up to move down closer to the action).
I’m not sitting in the cheap seats because better tickets weren’t available. My parents were devout Mormons, so I was born on the field. It took effort to get up here. Like most arenas, mine is shaped like a bowl and the field is at ground level. It doesn’t matter if you walk in from the street, or start out on the field, it’s roughly the equivalent of forty flights of stairs to get to my seat. Looked at from the right perspective, I’ve climbed a small mountain. I should feel like I’ve accomplished something.
It occurs to me that regardless of whether I decide to make my way back down to the field or decide to pack up and leave, gravity will make the trek down easier than the hike up.
“If I’ve climbed a small mountain,” I ask myself, “does that mean that, sooner or later, I’m going to have to come down one side or the other?”
Maybe that’s pushing the analogy too far.
–To Be Continued–
[A Mormon in the Cheap Seats is a new weekly column that will explore Mormon religious and culture issue from the perspective of a skeptical insider.]
Brent,
I have no idea about how the analogy (or story) ends.
But I do not think that I have ever read something that describes my experience better than “A Mormon in the Cheap Seats”.
I have my Diet Coke and a very large Popcorn. The experience is not that bad. There are so many nice things about the seats. There is more elbow room and leg room (since there are rarely people next to me or in front of me). The others that do sit in the section are mostly really nice and fun–the others I just ignore and they ignore me.
But I cannot stop myself from thinking about how I used to sit in the Front Section…..on the 50 yard line….about 10 rows up.
And I wonder……..what comes next…….
Thanks for the comment. I agree, there are some nice things about the seats, but. . .
I’m not sure how the story ends either. . .
Thanks for reading–I plan on doing a post a week for a while.
Well done thou good and faithful nosebleed sectioner. My entertainment of choice was Yatzee with tiny little dice that I’d shake onto my planner in the 80’s during Sac Mtg. Kids loved it and joined in … their mother frowned and scared em.
Yahtzee, that’s great. Maybe I should bring a travel version of Scrabble one of these days?
Brent,
Last Sunday I handed my bishop a letter and it might as well have been turning in my 50-yard line lower section season tickets. So, tomorrow (being Sunday), I’ll grab a giant diet Coke and a bucket of popcorn (or maybe a big pretzel and some nachos) and join you in the cheap seats. See you there.
Michael
I’ll save you a seat.
Diet Coke, hell. The beer man makes it up this high, and you can see over the screens they put up down below on Sundays so you can watch the Sunday games.
Love this.
I was just going to quote this very portion. I love this too. It’s always a little irritating to me when I meet people or talk with family that think I’m up in the cheap seats because I’m lazy or I don’t understand how to have faith anymore. It really was hard work, and I’m proud of myself. And I’m proud of you too Brent. Thanks for the analogy.
Great post. I look forward to your future installments.
Brent I loved reading this, I’m scared of heights but I’m wondering if I’m the only member of a bishopric whose also sitting in those cheap seats…looking forward to reading more.
JackUK, I think the bishopric is supposed to be ON the field, calling the shots, no? ;)
It’s a pretty diverse crowd, I’m always surprised by who wanders up to join us. . .
Been there, done that. Sitting in the nosebleed section has its charms, but it makes you cynical about good people and you forget that God might, just might, have something for you to do. Come down and check out the box seats periodically.
It’s always nice to have friends who have box seats (I’m smiling).
It took me awhile to work up to the cheap seats- but the view has been worth it- My mind is so much more open- Also- when I was close to the field I wasn’t really aware of all those people sitting behind me.
That is a very good point.
Great point, Anne. Being more aware of other people in the stadium, or at least more aware of the different beliefs and personal experiences of other fans, definitely seems like one of the benefits. . .
I think the reason I left the stadium is because I realised I wasn’t that interested in the sport. I’d rather just meet up with those that had been watching and ask them about it, maybe catch some highlights online.. but ultimately do something else with my time.
Me too.
A great analogy. I originally got put in the cheap seats by the people down on the field who decided this would be a better place for me because of my disabilities, but once I got here, I decided I really prefer this view. It’s much more expansive and inclusive and I’ve met some pretty amazing people up here.
Good analogy…and I can relate. Just last week we took our kids to a MLB game and YES…we were in the cheap seats. On our drive to the game (we went directly from a family renuion to the game) our son observed dispite our family representing over 10% of the group we were not asked to give one of the roughly 15 prayers offered (I’m not sure if he was expressing relief or regret!). Anyway, it made me wonder as I read your analogy if I wasn’t perhaps putting them (my kids) in the cheap seats without giving them the chance to experience the “good” seats (or even the climb to the top). I hope they get to do both so they can make their own informed choice.
I like being able to see the big picture. The people are as much fun to watch as the game is. That’s why I like the cheap seats.
It’s easier to catch pop-flys up here. The expensive seats get all the foul balls.
I don’t even really know what that means, but it sounds good.
Sincere question: Is it possible to be in the cheap seats with regards to social and cultural issues of mormonism and yet be down front on basic issues of doctrine?
GREAT question, tbn. I think a lot of people feel this way. In fact, I’m guessing there are people on the other end as well–people who value the social and cultural aspects of Mormonism more than the doctrinal issues.
I’m curious to see what Mr. Cheap Seats himself has to say . . . ;)
Shouldn’t have pressed “submit.”
I’m sure this happens in Catholic and Jewish communities. Think of all the people out there who calls themselves “Cafeteria Catholics.” I think those people are there for heritage/social/cultural reasons more than doctrinal ones. And I used to be dismissive of those motivations, but I’m not anymore.
Thank you for the good writeup. It if truth be told used to be a enjoyment account
it. Glance advanced to far brought agreeable from
you! By the way, how could we communicate?