I Am The Church

I had thought things might be on the mend with my family for a while, but there was a big row on Monday over some books I had given my sister to read. I gave them to her a long time ago, back when I believed that because she was an adult, we could discuss any topic she brought to me. The books were part of a larger conversation we were having about anger and how to move past it and see the good in even hopelessly flawed situations. Two were by the Dalai Lama; Healing Anger and The Art of Happiness.

The third was a book by two evangelical ministers that discussed how to overcome a bad experience had with abusive clergy. I had been given that book by a friend when I was dealing with the aftermath of escaping a very damaging marriage. Leaving my ex took immense willpower as I had to finally throw off the controlling arms of priesthood leaders who were scaring me with damnation so that I wouldn’t leave a temple marriage. I had a lot of anger to process, and I made many notes in the margins of the book. My sister was dealing with a lot of similar anger against LDS authorities. She stopped believing in Mormonism long before I did, and she is still living under my parents’ roof whilst attending university. We had several conversations about how to let go of anger, see the good in situations, and I offered her that book so that she could see what I was like at my most angry and hopefully learn to bypass many of the negative emotions I had felt by focusing on forgiveness and patience.

I had made a promise back in October to my parents to never discuss politics or religion with any of my siblings — even the adult ones — and I have held to that. But I forgot about the books.

My father routinely searches my sister’s room, as he used to do to me. He found the books, and had no way of knowing that they had arrived long before I understood the degree of authority they still expected to have over children who were legally adults but still under their roof. The Dalai Lama was scoffed at, but the book on clerical abuse was a cause for outrage. Before even flipping through to see that it ends on a very positive note, my parents took this text as a personal attack on the infallibility of the LDS priesthood. In their view, a book that states that men who claim to speak for God are not always doing so, and that it’s ok to protect yourself from abuse, is heresy.

I found out just how personally my father takes all of this. “The church is not an organisation or a building,” he told me over the phone. “I am the church. Any criticism of the church is criticism of me.”

I was astounded. Never in my most orthodox days did I ever believe that there was no distinction between an organisation and the people that make it up. Perhaps that’s why I was never destined to be a good Mormon? I can’t say. It’s just too befuddling for me to get my head around just now.

He told me that the path I had chosen put an enormous rift between us and that from now on we would have very little in common in this life or the next. He told me that if I was ever to visit his house again he didn’t want me to ever speak about what I think or believe, and that if I could follow that rule “we are prepared to receive you.”

Blimey. What a warm invitation. What I heard him say was:

  • Your rejection of the church is a personal rejection of your parents
  • We are going to heaven; You are going to hell
  • We have nothing in common
  • I don’t want to know anything about who you are
  • If you can play a good little black sheep, we will tolerate your presence

Perhaps that’s just me being cynical because I’m still feeling the sting, but I can’t help but resent the fact that they reserve the right to recriminate me for every past wrong, no matter how long done. And because of those forgotten books and the way they were discovered, that’s one more thing I’ll never be forgiven for.

This is not a cynical question, nor is it a trap. I sincerely want to know: if everything that I am is disgusting and threatening to my parents, why do they want to have a relationship with me at all?

If there are any still-faithful LDS readers out there, or people who remember what it’s like to be faithful, would you take the apostasy of a child this personally? Would you place similar restrictions on the apostate child? Would you realise that the consequence of such a strict response has the effect of alienating your other children from you, making them more likely to reject such authoritarian religious beliefs? How would you resolve the struggle between the bits of LDS orthodoxy that are mandatory and the realities of how difficult some aspects of Mormon belief can be to deal with?

Dutcher Facebook Update: Screencap

Here’s a screen capture of the thread that’s erupted from Richard Dutcher’s comments refuting the standard doublethink that allows some LDS people to dismiss the cognitive dissonance of those who struggle with Mormonism:

Postmortem to follow. The preliminary verdict: Dutcher 47. Pro-LDS minus 23 due to logical fallacies and general silliness.

They Don’t Make it Easy

Dear Sister Molly,

I know that you know that you ceased to be a member of the LDS Church the second we opened your letter, forcing our pure and temple worthy fingers to come into contact with remnants of your slimy green saliva along the envelope’s edge, but this letter is to inform you that you’re not getting off that lightly.

You told us you don’t want to be a member any more, but you can get stuffed. You’ve got to deal with local authorities first. We’ve figured out who your bishop should be, you naughty less-active, you, and we’re sending him over to intimidate you. Also, since we’d like to be patronising and dismissive and pretend this wasn’t a decision you took seriously, here’s a stupid pamphlet with a snapshot of that boring second-rate Jesus statue we keep in all our temple visitors’ centres. It’s telling you to get your arse back to church because clearly you haven’t given any of this much thought.

Love and Kisses,

Gregory W. Dodge
Borg De-assimilation Prevention Team

Apostasy FAQ

I recently sent in my resignation letter. Here’s the FAQ:

What was in the letter?

I copied the text of a sample resignation letter available on many sites explaining how to resign and used that. I chose the briefest and most perfunctory version, which contained all the needed language to prevent any stalling or refusal to comply on their end. There was no point in getting personal, since my resignation is going to be handled by some drone at the COB who has no interest or need to hear my list of grievances. The sample letter is a fitting way to resign, because it treats LDS, Inc. with the same one size fits all attitude with which it treated me.

What were your real reasons?

There are oh, so many, but if I had to sum it up:

  1. The Book of Mormon and Pearl of Great Price are not historical records. This an essential requirement for the church being true.
  2. Mormonism privileges whiteness over other races in its scripture, culture, and power structure, holding that dark skin is a punishment from God.
  3. Women are barred from leadership and kept segregated from one another through multiple layers of priesthood authority.
  4. The top-down structure of church power leaves no method for correcting abusive or incompetent leaders.
  5. Loyalty to the institutional church is prized over loyalty to family or the gospel.
  6. Homosexuality is forbidden, despite scientific evidence that it is natural and normal.
  7. The church has repeatedly engaged in political activity over the years that is racist, sexist, and homophobic.
  8. The church has changed so much over the years that even if the organisation was the true church when Joseph Smith founded it, it isn’t the same organisation now.

What was the procedure?

I used a letter that contained the necessary language to require them to mark me as no longer a member. The letter was notarised and I scanned it for my records before sending it with a tracking number so I could verify delivery. Now it’s the waiting game. The church usually sits on these letters for a month before taking action, despite the fact that legally I was no longer a member the moment they received the letter.

Does your family know yet?

No. I’m waiting for confirmation that I’m no longer a member before telling them. This is partly because I don’t want to give them false hope that I can be dissuaded during the Church’s waiting period. It’s also partly because I want them to know that my decision was real and final when they learn I’m no longer a member.

What’s your family’s reaction going to be?

Not sure. Either shock, sadness, and withdrawing, or shock, sadness and anger. I shall only inform my parents initially and let them decide who they wish to tell and when. I hope for my granny’s sake they do not tell her. I will happily pretend for her sake. She’s very old and doesn’t need this burden. My guess is that there will be a period of estrangement, but for the sake of appearances they’ll eventually let me back in to family events.

How do you feel?

Not that different. This is just executing the formalities of a state of mind I’ve been in for some time. My membership in the LDS Church is largely symbolic, as I haven’t attended actively for several years. The only anxiety I feel is over how much this will hurt my parents, and I particularly worry about my elderly grandmother should they choose to tell her.

What’s next?

Dunno. Heroin? More likely I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing all along — earning a living, spending time with friends, and looking after the loved ones in my life. Damage control and drafting the letter that will break the news to mum and dad. After all, I want them to get this bad news from me and not from the LDS gossip chain . . .

So Many Questions

This morning I re-read a comment from CJ on yesterday’s post:

The real reason people are leaving: those who consider themselves to be faithful members, but who inexplicably fail to become mindless jumper-wearing, jello-eating drones, are told “faith promoting” things like “you shouldn’t have a Temple Recommend”. If membership has to dictate one’s personality and character, then it’s only going to become less and less appealing. I, for one, like to think that I can be both religious and free-thinking–but, increasingly, I’m being told by church that I’m wrong.

I wonder how many people are leaving due to a lack of belief (there’s certainly plenty of that) and how many are leaving because they prize their individualism?

For me it was a little of both. I discovered the numerous problems with The Church’s historical and truth claims, but the trauma this caused to my testimony wasn’t ultimately what caused me to throw up my hands and walk away. It was the absolute taboo on discussion of controversy, combined with The Church’s willful encouragemwilful”Lying for the Lord.” I soon discovered that facts are not of interest to The Church. If a fact makes Mormonism look good, then it was true. If it casts a negative light on Mormonism, then it is false. My efforts to discuss controversial or complicated issues in a spirit of genuine inquiry were met with hostility and accusations of disloyalty. Ironically, the church that taught me to value my integrity above everything was behaving in such a way that my integrity forced me to leave.

I’m curious to specifically hear from CJ, but if any other faithful nonconformists (people who believe in the basic premise of Mormonism but do not adhere to the culture and practice of Mormonism in a typical active Mormon way) have answers to these questions please do share.

What do you consider the secret to your success in thinking you can be “both religious and free-thinking”? I do believe there are plenty of denominations that encourage this (Reform Judaism, Unitarianism and Lutheranism come to mind) but I agree that the LDS church can suffer from an emphasis on conformity and (sometimes public) humiliation of those who are faithful but different. You said that increasingly you’re told by the church that you are wrong. Who tells you that you are wrong? On what do they base their authority? Does anyone ever come to your defense? Why or whdefence

What do you consider to be “The Church”? Do you think there is any difference between “The Church” as in the list of members maintained by the Corporation of the Presiding Bishop, and “the church” as in a body of believers? What matters more to you, The Church or the church? Do you believe that the employees of the Corporation of the Presiding Bishop (apostles, general authorities, Correlation committee, and other bureaucrats) are right to have complete say over what constitutes a “Good Mormon”? What would the breaking point be for you between your faith in the church and your ability to maintain membership in The Church? How much do you think being a member in good standing of The Church affects your salvation?

Many nonconformists who are still active in The Church feel that their presence has value as a force fighting conformity, but others resent the fact that being different requires them to represent Those Who Are Different, when they’d rather just be accepted as part of the fold. Do you think that the slow drain of nonconformists from The Church is inevitable? Do you think that The Church is happy to see them go, making it easier to guarantee conformity of belief and behaviour? Do you think it would be useful or not useful for The Church to encourage open debate, doubt, and questioning?

If these are too many questions to answer in the comments section, please leave a link to any blog posts that discuss these issues.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.