My wife and I worshiped with our son and daughter-in-law this morning at a large Florida ward.
Truth be told, I completely forgot that it was National Wear Pants to Sacrament Meeting Day, or whatever the thing was called, and I didn’t pay any attention to whether or not any of the women were wearing pants.
Nor did anybody so much as mention National WPSM Day. Not in sacrament meeting, not in Sunday school, and not in priesthood meeting. There were numerous references to, along with one fairly lengthy discussion of, the elementary school shootings in Newtown, Connecticut, but I imagine, in retrospect, that that was just Mormons trying to find a subject less painful and appalling to talk about than pants in sacrament meeting. (As Conrad’s Mistah Kurtz said, “The horror! The horror!”)
Perhaps Florida was an anomaly. Surely the Church has been wrenched from its foundations by this important demonstration of feminine defiance. Or, if not, surely the Church’s rigid and oppressive patriarchy bared its fangs and, revealing its true face to an appalled world, treated the ladies in a beastly fashion, urged on by . . . well, by angry and contentious reactionaries such as myself. Or something.
That’s probably the way it was in Utah, anyway. I’m sure. It must have been.
I would be interested in reports of angry fistfights, wildly thundering gerontocrats, or any of the other dramatics that some critics seem to have been gleefully anticipating. Or, alternatively, in accounts of appropriately calm worship services ornamented by Christmas hymns. My bet is that little if anything very dramatic happened.
Which is good.
For my view on the epochal issue of pants in church, see here.
Posted from Orlando, Florida.