Sabbath Devotional: Pluralism: An Intimate and Precious Thing

In the last decade, I’ve lived in wards across the country — east coast, west coast, and places in between. Something I’ve come to love about our church structure is the fact that we do not necessarily choose our congregation. Who we worship with is decided by geographical boundaries — not by where our friends attend, or the leaders we prefer, or which community feels most comfortable. Because of that, I’ve worshipped and served alongside people I wouldn’t necessarily have chosen, but who have shaped me profoundly.

In my current ward, Sunday School comments reflect experiences ranging from missions and raising families, to time living on the streets. In a small New Jersey ward, I heard testimonies in many different languages. In another ward, members spoke openly about their unorthodox beliefs. In the ward and stake I grew up in, political divisions are strong and pervasive.

And what I’ve seen locally in wards across the country is now becoming increasingly visible churchwide. Social media can also highlight the differences members have in belief and practice: whether it be Word of Wisdom, temple worship, or how our faith informs our political views and engagement. In fact, recent studies have even begun to document the widening differences within Church membership.

Our church structure doesn’t just allow for diversity — it practically guarantees it. The question is whether we treat these tensions as a problem, or as a sacred opportunity.

The reality is that these differences are sometimes, if not often, the source of heartbreak, frustration, and pain. When I feel discouraged by this, Elder Neal A. Maxwell’s words reframe the experience for me:

"It is clear that in our daily labors, in our families, and in our Church associations is a significant share of the clinical material that God has given us to practice on. This means we will experience at each others’ hands some pain, some lack of finesse, and certainly some genuine mistakes. In fact, as we see each other developing and growing (as well as sometimes when we are not at our best) . . . we are privy to an intimate and precious thing.”

Privy to an intimate and precious thing.

How is that the case when these differences, primarily the ones that cause pain, are distancing us from each other? Especially when we feel the teachings of the gospel are being misunderstood, distorted — or when others feel that we are the ones distorting them?

Perhaps the answer lies in the difference between diversity and pluralism. Diversity is the reality that differences exist. Pluralism is the value of navigating and leaning into our differences with care.

Our faith teaches the value of pluralism:

“Not just one, or even two, but many perspectives and traditions can co-exist within a shared moral framework. Such an ideal works only when people develop the habits and manners of civility in understanding the unique worldviews of their neighbors. In an age teeming with philosophies, ideologies and truth claims, peace and order depend on it.”

And further:

“Plurality is a normal part of society, but the problem comes when the strongest demand conformity of everyone else. Pressures mount toward consensus. The drive to diminish differences builds. And in the name of unity, larger voices dominate the smaller ones. But this tendency usually backfires. Unity turns into repression, and a cycle of tension develops. The job of a pluralistic society, however, is to minimize this struggle.” (The Church Newsroom)

Leaning into this value of pluralism, rather than conformity, shifts our view of conflict from threatening to an “intimate and precious thing” as we deepen relationships with our brothers and sisters. We, as Latter-day Saints are called on to be light, salt, and yeast in the world. The small illuminating, leavening, flavor-giving factor that has the power to “transform societies, enhance goodness, and be a catalyst for change.” And our wards, our “church associations”, are the very crucible for this work. The place where, in Elder Maxwell’s words, we are given clinical material to practice on.

If the Church is a crucible for learning this work, for leaning into pluralism with care, what does it look like in practice? Let me offer a few suggestions to add to your own:

• Serve with them. We often talk about how serving someone can help us develop love for them. But finding and creating ways to serve alongside them can help you see how they are needed in your community — and by you. What strengths are they bringing to the body of Christ?

• Choose curiosity. When you hear a comment that you disagree with or that rubs you the wrong way, pause and think: I wonder why they see things that way. Curiosity over skepticism will keep the door open for relationship and repair.

• Acknowledge differences. We often let our conflicts simmer and tension build before ever naming them clearly. Acknowledgment is making the differences explicit, bringing it to the surface, and recognizing them. When we avoid acknowledgement due to fear of discomfort or negatively impacting our relationship, these fears become self-fulfilling prophecies. When we acknowledge and move towards the conflict directly, we find that our relationships can withstand the most difficult differences.

• Ask God for charity. Find solace in the teaching that charity is a gift (Moroni 7:48). Loving people who aren’t like us is really difficult! We aren’t expected to overcome our hurt, frustration, or grief alone. “Pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love . . .”

  
  

Ultimately, the work of peacemaking means staying committed to seeing the humanity, complexity, and value of each person — even in the midst of pain and shortcomings. With the guidance of the Savior, this is when our conflicts can become an intimate and precious thing.

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Image: Generations Building Zion by Erin Nimmer

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Maybree Spilsbury is the director of peacemaking at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.