We’re sisters. Sam is a Mormon*. And Gena is a witch.
Neither of us started out that way, though.
As youths (and as we would only learn about the other later in life – in writing this article, in fact), we both adopted agnosticism – if we had to adopt a label for belief (which we both felt pressured to do from largely believing peer groups), “I don’t know” felt appropriate. Agnosticism, as we defined it, allowed us to balance a lack of defined beliefs while leaving room for curiosity. This room eventually allowed us to come to our own authentic beliefs.
Though we grew up religious “nones,” a foundation of beliefs was cultivated. Mom, the “spiritual, but not religious” daughter of Catholicism, taught us to see the Divine in everyone. She modeled a divine and spiritual love in all she did, primarily through creative pursuits like song and dance. Dad, the agnostic wildlife biologist, taught us that institutional religion does not have a monopoly on connection, love, or kindness. Though these lessons were implicit, they were deeply instilled. They also provided a basis for building interfaith relationships that would be pivotal to our reconnecting in adulthood.
Looks aside (no, we’re not twins), we are very different. In young adolescence, our interests diverged significantly. For many years, going days without seeing the other was not improbable. Sam was busy enrolling in every student club known to man and Gena, chasing festivals and shows, and going anywhere to escape the house.
Then, when we both left our Missouri home for college – Sam to Virginia and Gena to Oregon – our geography diverged, too.
We knew and understood each other less and didn’t do much to change that. We had no idea we were on parallel spiritual journeys that could bring us back together.
Gena: Maiden to Mother
As a child, I always wanted to know why we didn’t go to church like all my friends seemed to. Once, on a routine Sunday nature walk with our family, my dad explained, “This is our church.” As simple as that was, I always enjoyed this simple family and nature tradition.
I spent my teenage years listening to music with my friends. At the time, I didn’t see this as a spiritual pursuit, but this ecstatic, embodied practice was laying the foundation for my Truth.
Giving birth to my son was the first genuinely religious experience I knew.
Diving into the liminal underworld, I let the person I had been dissipate and allowed myself to transform from maiden to mother. I had been seeking trust in myself, the belief in myself to allow me to trust in all the Universe held. I was reborn in Her image, and I never again doubted the realness of the Goddess, the great Mother. I now knew that I was a microcosm, and there was something much greater than me that I reflected in the macrocosm. I understood in my heart and womb that I was a Witch, and I reclaimed all parts of myself. This visceral act of embodied creation solidified my beliefs and practices.
Sam: Discovering the Autonomy to Seek Truth
I felt a deep desire to connect with the Divine in my early high school years. At first, I felt a strong cognitive dissonance. I trusted and respected my dad deeply. I wanted to believe what he did, but my experience felt different.
Around age fifteen, I had a moment of clarity when I realized I had the autonomy to seek spiritual truths that authentically resonated with me. I began searching for a community that welcomed curiosity and understood the importance of asking questions in developing faith.
One that affirmed the divinity I felt in my bones, especially when creating art, singing, or dancing. One where family, in all its form, was primary to spiritual growth and where I could find myself modeled in female divinity. One where eternity meant becoming rather than just being. I longed for a formal community with history and tradition, a place like home.
At the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, similar to Joseph Smith’s experience, I saw myself as a fourteen-year-old boy searching for Truth in the woods who emphasized the importance of asking questions; I felt my divine birthright as I learned that I am a literal daughter of a Father – and a Mother – in Heaven. And eternity became less daunting as I learned that I can be like Them through eternal growth and progression and the atonement of Jesus Christ.
Convergence
We discovered our journeys when motherhood came knocking at our door.
Both were relatively young mothers; we had few examples socially, but we had each other. Through the trying days of early motherhood and postpartum, we found support in each other. We learned that motherhood was sacred for both of us, as was the concept of a Feminine Divine. We knew that creation, in many ways and forms, felt like the pinnacle of divinity for both of us.
We began discussing our beliefs. Neither trying to convince the other, but marveling at the similarities of our beliefs and trying to account for how two very different sisters with two very different practices could end up with so much in common.
We both have a deep and abiding love for family and familial relationships, creativity and creation, and the spiritual power therein in the Divine Truth of radical equality and the unique existence of the Feminine Divine.
Through these shared values, we’ve discovered our divergent spiritual identities bring us closer together, giving each of us language that allows us to communicate to the Divine in our own deeply personal ways and relate to each other as our authentic selves.
So, one Mormon* and one witch.
I’m not sure that’s what our parents had in mind when they decided not to drag our family to church on Sundays. They sure don’t seem to mind the results, though.
*In 2018, the President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Russell M. Nelson, asked the broader public to refer to the church by its full name and refer to members as Latter-day Saints rather than Mormons. For the literary pleasure of the contrast and sound of the words, we have chosen to refer to ourselves as a “Mormon and a witch.”
It should be noted that I (Sam) and other members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints generally prefer to be identified as “Latter-day Saints” rather than as “Mormons.”
Sam Ryan is the Grants Coordinator at Interfaith America. She holds a BA from the College of William and Mary and master’s in arts administration and in public affairs (concentrating on nonprofit management) from Indiana University-Bloomington. In her free time, she can be found playing with her two small daughters, Sonja and Noor, bingeing sitcoms with husband Nick, or painting, an important part of her personal expression as a Latter-day Saint.
Gena-Marie Rajaniemi (née Ryan) runs a family coffee shop in Las Cruces, New Mexico with her husband and mother-in-law. She holds a BA in religious studies and gender studies. She spends her time with her family, two children Bronson and Beatrix, and playing with their cats. She can often be found baking for the coffee shop and playing card games with her family. She practices yoga and her spiritual practice is aligned with the moon phases.
Latest Articles
-
Higher Education
The Ties That Bind Us Together: Meet the 2024 Interfaith Leadership Summit Speakers
July 25, 2024
-
Interfaith Inspiration
A Mormon* and a Witch: How Divergent Faiths Brought Sisters Back Together
July 23, 2024
-
-
American Civic Life
Voter Protection Training Begins as Clergy, Secular Groups Look Toward Election
July 19, 2024
-
Join us today
Get inspired, equipped, and connected to unlock the potential of America’s religious diversity.
