This has gotten ridiculously long, so I’m going to just start with the first half.
How many times did I take the sacrament in an LDS church? Weeks. Years. The sacrament hymns were almost mindlessly familiar. When I was a kid, the deacons seemed so old to me; later on, of course, they were strikingly young. As a girl who never participated in passing it, I wondered about the logistics of how they set up who was going to go where. Sometimes the experience was dominated by the awkwardness of figuring out how it was going to work, if I were perhaps sitting in the middle of an empty row. In singles wards, it was almost jarringly silent. In wards with young children, it was a dull roar. Read More