. . . if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another. . .
1 John 1:7
I squirmed in my seat when I heard the words “I am Jesus,” exclaimed from the pulpit. The woman who said them went on to rebuke the audience for our waywardness; an awkward moment for everyone in attendance. I couldn’t yet grasp that this was likely the most interesting moment I’d ever experience at a testimony meeting because I was too wrapped up in the idea that she was one more example of all the ways this type of meeting goes wrong — too many travelogues, thank-i-monies, and public confessions were heard in fast and testimony meeting, aka “Open Mike Sunday.” I was at a complete loss as to why we turned the meeting over to the whims of the congregation at large.
But, recent attendance at a local story swapping event, my city’s MothUP, has changed my perception. Think of MothUP as a secular testimony meeting, plus food, spirits and applause. It’s one of the on-going programs of Moth, a non-profit storytelling organization started by George Dawes Green when he moved to New York from coastal Georgia. Green was trying to recreate the sense of connection he felt in Georgia during late night porch sessions sharing stories with his friends. Moth is named after the moths that would find their way to the porch attracted by the light. Green’s hope is that others are attracted to the stories, like moths are to flame.
The monthly meeting works like this: Stories must be loosely based on the monthly theme. Time limit is 5 minutes. Your story should be true. Stories must be told, not read. Names are pulled from a hat to determine who gets to share their story.
Similar to testimony meeting, some stories at MothUP made me cry or laugh out loud, and others bored me for most of the 5 painful minutes. There was TMI on the part of some participants and some left disappointed they didn’t get to share. But, by and large, there is a definite sense of community among those who come every month; they know and seem to enjoy, root for and even love each other through the stories.
MothUP made me realize I had been overlooking the most important factor of Open Mike Sunday all along. It’s the stories. Whatever form they take; we are sharing pieces of our souls with each other that benefit tellers and listeners alike.
Rather than mentally noting and judging how appropriate the remarks are and whether they fit into my worldview, I can just listen to the story about how their mother never raised her voice at them or how they paid tithing and the same day received a miraculous block of cheese on their doorstep worth that very same amount. I can enjoy a story and root for the success of its teller. It’s the truth as they see it, some small piece of who they are or wish to be. It’s a community builder that creates connection. It’s an uncorrelated moment of bliss.
I had it wrong. I expected the stories to shed some light on the divine. But, it seems the stories are the light and the real testimony of the divine is how they draw us closer to each other in fellowship.
Despite my new-found fun in first Sundays, I’d still suggest we add applause, food, or even a theme to the meetings: Lost and Found, Miracles –Extreme Edition, Three Nephite Sightings, Guilt-ridden Gratitude.
Drawn to the flame: what’s your take on these first Sunday meetings? How do you connect with others?
“the stories are the light and the real testimony of the divine is how they draw us closer to each other in fellowship.”
That’s the best definition I’ve heard for Fast and Testimony meeting. We lose a lot when leaders urge members to limit testimony to affirming that: God lives. Jesus is the Christ. Joseph Smith was a prophet, the Book of Mormon is true, and the current pres is a prophet.
I agree that limiting testimonies contents isn’t always good. In a stake I attended years ago the stake president decided that all testimonies should be no more then 2 minutes long. He told all the bishops and went around to various wards on fast and testimony Sundays to enforce his new idea. It only lasted for two months in our ward before the members started to revolt.
I love The Moth. I listen to their podcasts all the time. You’re lucky to have a Moth event going on near you.
That’s such a great way to approach testimony meeting.
First of, love The Moth. I subscribe to the podcast.
As for testimony meetings, I rarely connect with anyone anymore via what they share there. Even as stories, many of them have little benefit for anyone. A blog would be a better outlet for the rants, admonitions, and neverending stories. When they make me feel like I’m being held captive, I walk out. That keeps me from getting disconnected.
Course Correction – it took me a while to see past the facade to what was really being offered. Now the testimonies that annoy others are the ones I love the most.
Lovelyn & Ren – I hadn’t heard of the Moth before the day I went to the MothUP. I plan to take full advantage of having one so close – maybe I’ll even get something ready to share. I’d love to hear what podcasts you like.
Ren – what makes you feel held captive? Testimony time is one of the few meetings I don’t feel that way because I am able to get up if I please. Other sacrament meetings I feel less involved and able to connect – the talks are long and rarely involve their own stories since reading is allowed.
Some good advice was once given: “everyone has a story, if you listen to peoples stories not only will you understand them better, you will better understand yourself.”
I also love the Moth and listen to the podcasts whenever I have to be on the road. I love hearing people’s stories–however/whenever they come. I read a quote in a YA novel a while back: “I’ve never met a reader who was a bigot.” And it stuck with me. I find that the more I read (the more stories I hear/read), the more open and patient I am, slower to judge, less likely to criticize . . .
I’d never heard of ‘the Moth’… I’m going to subscribe to the podcast – it sounds fantastic.
As for LDS testimony meetings, I agree that the most moving testimonies for me have often been the ones that have taken the form of a story. It’s not always that way – sometimes a person says the ‘correlated’ version of the accepted statements of faith that we hear so often, and I feel the power of their humanity behind those words… but if someone is able to give of themselves in sharing a narrative, I love listening.
The thought of ‘telling stories’ connects me back to when I was a child, in our cold house with a coal-burning fire… I remember sitting around that fire and telling tales. Looking at photographs and asking about the people… these are special moments.
I love people’s stories. My favorite part of teaching Sunday School is trying to illicit them and the elation when someone cooperates. I usually get at least one interesting one. Last week a sister told us about having a well for drinking water and how her father dug wells for all the neighbors when she was a child- we got to hear what it was like to lower the bucket down into the well, feel it fill with water, and draw it back up by turning the handle. It made reading about drawing from the well of salvation much more concrete and meaningful. I remember a sister in RS telling us about doing laundry by hand- having a big cauldron of boiling water over a fire in the yard! Weekly! Amazing. One reason I love going to church- rubbing elbows with the elderly, people raised in a different culture than I, and yes, sometimes even mentally ill people who think they are Jesus.
I have another class member who often tells a touching, short, meaningful experience in his life. I really appreciate his wisdom- I’m not a public crier but his stories often choke me up.
Yes! Let’s bear more stories and fewer testimonies. I don’t want to be affirmed in a set of pre-packaged, corporatized beliefs, rather in our shared humanity. I want to hear how being part of this world and this community moves you. Thanks, Mel!