A few months ago I left the Mormon church and started taking communion at my local Anglican parish. I haven’t been upfront about it in my last few blog posts which was disingenuous of me. If I continue to blog, I want to be completely honest about where I am in my spiritual journey. The last two posts here by Andrew S. and Hawkgrrrl have hit oddly close to home and I think this is a good time to “come out.” It’s for my own sake as much as anyone else’s as I try to make sense of this dramatic change in my life.
So why did I leave? It happened suddenly, but not entirely unexpectedly given that I’ve long held unorthodox beliefs. My wife had left the church a few months earlier. Part of me wanted to join her. I was driving home one evening, pondering the struggles I’ve had with the church over the years. In the past, whenever I’ve imagined leaving the church, I’ve recoiled in horror. In spite of the issues I’ve had with the church, it was always unfathomable to think of abandoning my heritage, my temple covenants, and all the people I served and sustained. I can hear the voice of Elder Holland echoing: “don’t you quit!” I was on the high council and a lot of members look up to me. I love so many things about the church and I love the people in it. The church has been good to me. I’ve felt the Spirit confirm the truths within it many times. How could I leave all that behind?
But this time as I thought of leaving, something changed. A great peace came over me, a feeling of total love and acceptance, an absolute assurance that if I left the church, God would stay with me. It was as powerful a feeling as I had ever had in my life, on my mission, in the temple, or giving priesthood blessings. I even felt the uniquely LDS description “burning in the bosom,” even as it directed me to leave my LDS faith behind. I had heard similar stories: my sister-in-law says the Spirit told her to leave the church while she was praying in the temple. Film director Richard Dutcher also claims the Spirit told him to leave. Now I was one of them.
As soon as I got home I called my stake president and asked to be released from the high council. He was shocked and distressed. I know that from his perspective, I was turning my back on exaltation in the Celestial Kingdom, abandoning my eternal family and rejecting my Father in Heaven. For a believing Mormon, it is beyond tragic. Yet though I recognised the incredible sorrow my words were causing, I was sustained by a strong spiritual assurance that I was doing the right thing. I’ve since had many discussions with my heartbroken parents, trying to come to some kind of understanding. But my experience represents an irreconcilable contradiction with their deepest beliefs. There is no room in LDS doctrine to accept it. At the end of the day, I must have been deceived. My father says I was just feeling excited about not having to live the commandments. My mother wonders if maybe I was confused by my emotions, like those BYU co-eds who receive revelations to marry the wrong person. But if my experience wasn’t real, then nothing else I have experienced spiritually in the church is real either, because the experiences were unmistakably the same.
So Why Did I Want to Leave?
I don’t think God would ever have told me to leave the Mormon church unless I really wanted to leave. So why did I want to leave so badly? Unlike many others, it was not over historical or political issues like homosexuality or polygamy. I was not chafing over the church’s authoritarian hierarchy. I hadn’t lost my testimony of its divine authority. I still believe it is a true church, if not the true church. My discomfort with the church has come from something more fundamental: it’s doctrinal literalism, absolutism, and materialism. The LDS church is all about “answers” and my life was all about “questions.” Socrates said, “the more one learns, the less one knows.” The apostle Paul criticises people who are “ever learning but never coming to the knowledge of the truth.” I was one of those “ever learning” people. The more I was learning, the less certain I felt about absolute truths. One might think that a lack of certainty is a terrible existential state, but for me it is inspiring. I love being surrounded by mystery and wonder, feeling wrapped up in incomprehension. Krista Tippet of the On Being podcast, says her two favourite words are “doubt” and “surprise.” Doubting your own ideas leads you to explore realities beyond your present state of understanding. It can bring spiritual connection with people who believe differently than you. Tippet’s ideal life is to “live the questions” as poet Rainer Marie Rilke admonished. It opens you up to a state of continual surprise, and surprise, as G. K. Chesterton says is mankind’s “chief pleasure.”
Please don’t misunderstand me, I believe the “answers” of the LDS church are very positive in their own sphere. Studies show that people who are more certain about things in life are happier and more successful. Doubt may open you up to new understandings, but it can also disconnect you from your personal sense of self and the collective morals of your tribe. Personally, I was feeling suffocated by the LDS answers. I felt called to doubt, empathy, surprise and questioning. But others are called to certainty, faith, advocacy, and mission.
Certainty Vs. Doubt
I’m being hypocritical you might say. I want to “live the questions” and embrace doubt. But I have no doubt about my revelation to leave the church. Isn’t that a contradiction? My parents ask: “Didn’t you have any doubts about your revelation? Didn’t you doubt your doubts?” Well, I admit I live in two worlds on this point. I embrace both spiritual certainty and the principles of doubt and surprise. The LDS tradition of saying “I know” as opposed to “I believe” is a gnostic principle, and I aspire to gnostic spirituality. Gnosis means “knowledge,” knowledge that comes from a personal encounter with God. An LDS testimony is not a statement of belief. Rather it recounts a spiritual experience which is understood as “knowledge,” not belief. And a testimony is knowledge, albeit knowledge of a spiritual nature.
However there is one important difference between the way that Mormons interpret their spiritual experiences and the way I interpret mine. I interpret personal revelation as subjective truth about the spiritual world inside of me. It tells me something about the intimate space my soul shares with God. Because it is subjective, its meaning could change, like Joseph Smith’s interpretation of his first vision did over the years. But Mormons interpret personal revelation as objective truth about the world outside of them. For a conservative Mormon, a revelation that “the church is true” means that it is God’s truth for the whole world. Interpreting one’s revelations universally may be important for nurturing faith, maybe even essential. But for me, personal revelations are personal. My personal revelation to leave the church doesn’t mean the church isn’t true for others. It has nothing to say about anyone else’s experience with God. It is for me and me alone. I articulated this theory in my blog post “All Revelation is Personal” which argues that all revelation, including revelation given to prophets, is personal, in the sense that it only becomes revelation for others as God gives confirmatory revelations to those others through His spirit.
I can’t blame Mormons for judging my departure as a grave error. If God reveals to someone that this is the only true church, then they are obligated to apply this understanding to me and everyone else. Mormons cannot but judge me and I honour their faithfulness to what has been revealed to them. We are destined to be at loggerheads. I blame God for this contradiction, not Mormons, for He is the one who gave us the paradigms by which we judge the world. But even though we may never see eye to eye, I know that Mormons will always be kind to me, waiting patiently for the prodigal to return to the faith. The love Mormons show softens the bitterness of our conflicting views. Overall the response from my LDS friends and family has been extremely loving. Many have reached out, trying valiantly to be non-judgemental, without guilt or pressure, letting me know that I will always be their friend and that the door is always open.
And not all Mormons hold universalist beliefs. The more liberal ones have been happy to accept my unique journey as perfectly valid. In a world that is becoming ever more diverse and interconnected, it is a beautiful thing to be able to accept differing paths while remaining true to one’s own. It’s a perspective embraced by many Jews, Catholics and Buddhists. As we advance further into the new Millennium, I wonder if Mormon culture will adopt more pluralistic attitudes to truth. (Not that pluralism doesn’t have it’s own drawbacks. Conservatism is as important as liberalism in the ongoing struggle to understand a complicated world).
Embracing Anglicanism
About a year ago I wrote a post titled “Are you a Catholic Mormon or a Protestant Mormon?” I cited W. H. Auden’s famous quote “Truth is Catholic, the search for it is Protestant.” At the time, I claimed to be a Catholic Mormon because I accepted the authority of the LDS church and objected to the progressive “Protestant” advocacy of change in the church. My stance was a conservative one. Rod Dreher wrote: “Religious conservatives put their emphasis on the finding. Religious progressives put their emphasis on the search.” Ironically, by rejecting the “the finding” of LDS truth claims and embracing “the search,” proven that I’m actually a Protestant Mormon after all.
But religious authority is still important to me. Unlike most other apostates, I feel drawn to organised religion. I don’t want to be one of those “walking in his own way, after the image of his own God, whose substance is that of an idol.” I don’t want to go out and simply worship God “in my own way” or look for a church that happens to agree with everything I think. Organised religion challenges us to embrace commandments and traditions which transcend our own personal views. Embracing an organised religion with all its peculiarities is an act of humility in the face of realities greater than ourselves. It doesn’t necessarily matter what the peculiarities are. What matters is that they challenge us to enter into a path which we would not take on our own. An ecclesiastical structure is a powerful metaphor for God in the world. I’ve blogged before about the church as our spiritual “mother” and God as our spiritual “father.” An organised religion puts us in a parent-child relationship with God.
In the absence of a direct call from God to a particular religion, I have gravitated to the Anglo-Catholic tradition: Anglican, because I live in England and want to be part of an ongoing, centuries-old conversation between God and the English people, my ancestors. And Catholic, because I seek the authority of an ancient tradition. It’s not “the true church.” Its ancient buildings are filled with the scars of violence and evil: frightening medieval depictions of hellfire, Puritan iconoclasm, flamboyant monuments to wealthy patrons, beautiful organs alongside guitars and drum sets. It is a place to worship God and ponder our troubled relationship with Him. I don’t know if Anglicanism is my final destination. Maybe I’ll become Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox one day. Or maybe God will lead me back to Mormon church. Perhaps He is doing just that in His slow, patient way, as I work through the “issues” that made me want to leave.
“That’s How the Light Gets In”
There is a lyric from Leonard Cohen that has been on my mind a lot during this change:
“Ring out the bells that still will ring,
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
I am a broken person and my offerings as a Mormon have been far from perfect. So for now I am going to forget the “perfect offering” of my LDS faith and embrace the brokenness of Anglicanism. My parish church has “bells that still will ring” and light still streams into its ancient crumbling vaults. We are slowly raising the thousands of pounds needed to fix a leak in the roof. When that is repaired, we’ll go on to the broken windows, then the cracks in the foundation, on and on, indefinitely.
I find this to be a beautiful metaphor, and one that could apply to the Mormon church as well. Perhaps the Mormon church is not as perfect in its doctrine, nor as exclusive in its authority as it claims to be. Maybe Mormon churches also have cracks in their roofs. Maybe the Mormon church really is the “Old Ship Zion,” with a leaky hull, and crew like myself jumping ship. But maybe these imperfections are not a sign of weakness. Maybe they are an invitation to stay and sacrifice, to raise money for a new roof, to stay in the ship to patch its leaks, steady its course, strengthen its cords.
Some Anglicans complain that their church leadership should sell off their old crumbling churches, consolidate congregations, and spend money in more worthwhile endeavours. But I believe there is great value in bearing with the church in its imperfections just as there is value in bearing in a marriage with its imperfections. At the end of the day, I think we realise that “there is a crack in everything and that’s how the light gets in.” I have abandoned the Old Ship Zion, and I’ve gone to help out in an even older and more dilapidated ship. I believe it’s the right decision for me. Neither the Mormon ship nor the Anglican ship is going to sink and I believe we are both on course to a similar destination.
Wheat & Tares 
Although I am a variously staunch Presbyterian, there’s a lot about Anglicanism that I love, especially the Reformed part of it’s heritage (e.g., the Thirty-Nine Articles).
Wow Nate! I’m so excited for you, and perhaps a little bit jealous…
I have universalist views myself. I see God as providing religious paths that will guide us back to him in ways that we are able and prepared to accept. I see the whole reformation and restoration movements interesting from that perspective. Some are prepared to follow where the RC faith leads, others read scripture differently leading to reformation, and still others decided only God could restore what they felt had been lost, and so He gave them that too.
Best wishes etc…
I have a lot of respect for Anglicans. Thanks for sharing your experience. I find it fascinating. I was surprised when you told us simply because I’ve seen you as more orthodox than most although very thoughtful. I guess this doesn’t really change that. Your viewpoint is still very unique and thought provoking.
Oh man does this post ring true to me. The pulls you feel to leave in order to seek, because seeking is a form of worship is something I often feel.
The belief or feeling that we have arrived as a Mormon community is to me very damning. There is an air of superiority behind all that we do because we are the chosen ones and we have more of this or that.
I long for meetings where we are deeply aware that we are all seeking. That there is room to improve. Where vulnerability is present and unity is obtained by acknowledging that we are finding our way.
I wish you well in this next stage of your journey. I, too, find myself called by the ancient connections between my ancestors and the Anglican Church, but have not yet created circumstances where I am ready to make the switch. I think part of why it draws me is because our older Christian cousins have already begun reckoning with their troubled institutional past while the LDS tradition doesn’t seem ready for that yet.
Your comments and experience are familiar to me as well, as are those of your fellow Anglican, NT Wright. I sure love hearing and reading his material.
I believe God worked through Joseph Smith to reignite the idea that we are supposed to approach God and _know_ him, experiencing something similar to the Brother of Jared or the two disciples on the road to Emmaus – or many other people who came to personally, in their own way, become familiar with God. I see that strand woven through a lot of what Joseph did. He failed in many of his efforts to bring that fruit forth, and his own weaknesses and foibles got in the way at times, but if you look closely, you can see that strand running through his efforts.
That idea, of personally knowing God in a way that is intimate to us, is spoken so eloquently in Jeremiah 31:34
“And they shall teach no more every man his neighbor, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord: for they shall all know me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, saith the Lord: for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.”
I wish you the best on your path. I have enjoyed reading your material and hope you continue to post here. I chafe at authoritarianism so your posts are thought-provoking and challenging for me.
Thank you for this post, Nate. You have always been one of the most deeply thoughtful spiritual persons I’ve known. I’ve always loved how your viewpoints at the same time both challenge and strengthen my own. This one is no different: I feel spiritually strengthened by it. Best of luck to you on your journey.
Wow, I’m surprised. I’ve felt a kindred spirit in a lot of the things you’ve written, Nate, but I certainly haven’t felt a pull to leave the church. Even though I’m solidly in the believing Mormon camp, I still believe it’s possible that God might lead someone away from the church. There could be various reasons for it (eg., homosexual who’s liable to kill him/herself until he/she’s managed to sort things out). However, because of my personal belief in the the church, I can’t help but think it must be a rare thing, and even then, only temporary.
It is interesting how many early converts of the church claim miraculous events that converted them to the church. They’d witness a healing, or feel to speak in tongues, or something relatively tangible compared to the peaceful confirmation we’re counseled to look for today. Assuming their accounts are trustworthy, that means God gave them a sign. I almost never hear of converts claiming they’ve received such a sign today. They claim they’ve received spiritual witnesses, but rarely that they’re witnesses of a true miracle. I’m not sure why that is (and I won’t speculate here), but discriminating between a spiritual witness and an emotional response is often very difficult. Or at least, I find it difficult (most of the time). So Nate, when you say your spiritual witness to leave was just as powerful as those you’d based your testimony on before, that’s the first question that came to my mind. Maybe both were from God, maybe neither were. Obviously, only you (and maybe not even you) can answer that with confidence. But you sound confident. Best wishes to you.
I feel like everybody is talking about Nate in the past tense. Sheesh. He’s just switching churches. And Nate, you have nothing to confess. There’s nothing wrong with switching churches, and you didn’t mislead anybody by waiting to reveal the switch. All that matters is your happiness and sense of peace. Remember: God loves you unconditionally, and He always has your back.
Thanks everyone for the supportive comments. Kulvero, I’ll have to look into the 39 Articles. Haven’t heard of those.
Hedgehog, I thought what you said was beautiful, and it captures my beliefs on the restoration perfectly: “…still others decided only God could restore what they felt had been lost, and so He gave them that too.”
One way I’ve tried to explain my departure is the Israelites wanting a king. Samuel told them having a king was a bad idea. But they wanted one anyway. So God told Samuel to give them a king. As I said in my post, I don’t think God would have told me to leave unless I wanted to leave. Because I wanted it, He gave it to me. Like Hedgehog says, “He gave them that too.” It also follows the pattern we teach for receiving revelation from the Book of Mormon. “If you desire to believe, let that desire work in you.” Or in my case, if you desire to leave, let that desire work in you. Maybe like Martin Harris and the manuscript, my desire will come back to haunt me. As Truman Capote wrote, “More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.”
orangganjil, I’m going to have to look up N. T. Wright too. Lots to learn. I love that scripture from Jeremiah. I used to think that when it says, “all shall know Him” that it meant all shall know Him in exactly the same way. Now I think God is so big that all we can ever understand is just a piece of Him, like Moses seeing His backside. But for every individual, it’s a different piece.
Martin, I’m always glad to hear your respectful and faithful comments, and also glad to hear that you grant some flexibility for God to lead people away from the church. I think many Mormons acknowledge that God is leading and guiding non-members along non-LDS paths. It’s just that they can’t imagine God leading someone from the LDS path onto one of these other paths. But why not? Perhaps, as you suggest, only in rare circumstances, or perhaps not.
The second part of your comment suggests that a testimony could be more authentic if it comes as the result of having experienced a tangible, material sign. When I was on my mission, I would sometimes show my investigators a picture of the First Vision. Then I would ask them to locate each of the three personages of the Trinity in the picture. They would point to God and say “God.” Then they’d point to Jesus and say “Jesus.” Then I ask, “but where is the Holy Ghost?” They wouldn’t know, so I point at Joseph Smith’s heart. Then I’d ask, “How did Joseph Smith know that his vision came from God? What if he was being deceived by Satan, disguised as God? Well the Holy Ghost came into Joseph’s heart and confirmed that his vision REALLY was God. And that Holy Ghost is not only in Joseph Smith’s heart, it is in my heart too. It is telling me right now that Joseph Smith saw God. And it can be in your heart too.” I still believe those words, and I think they are the essence of all true testimony.
Some members struggle to recognise or feel the Holy Ghost. “To some it is given to know… to some it is given to believe.” But Mormons don’t like the idea that some can’t feel the Holy Ghost, so we sometimes strain and interpret various emotions as the Holy Ghost. I’ve never had a problem feeling what Mormons describe as the Holy Ghost, and I don’t think it’s because I’m just over-interpreting my emotions. For me, it is the experience of coming to my best and truest self at its most peaceful, loving, assured, grateful, and joyful, along with whatever that “burning in the bosom” is. But again, I don’t think it says anything objective about the world. All it does is show me a little light in the darkness, leading me forward in a certain direction.
Nate wrote:
Yes I couldn’t agree more. Peace be upon you in your transition and growth!
Thank you for sharing. I too have walked away from the LDS church. Actually, that is the wrong phrasing. I have felt led away by God. I have no real anamosity toward the LDS church, it just isn’t where I am supposed to be right now. My faith journey is leading me in another direction. I do not know my final religious destination. I am on a search.
My husband is puzzled. The LDS faith works so well for him. He prays and feels that he is exactly where he is supposed to be. He questions how my answer can be different. There is no rational response. All any of us can do is trust in God and follow where He leads. That has to be enough.
Again, thank you for sharing your path with us.
Nate, I still don’t think anyone would have felt deceived in any way if you’d continued posting as is. But… it’s obvious that writing this lifted a huge weight off your shoulders. Your parish will benefit greatly with you in it.
Thanks Nate.
There’s an MI podcast interview with NT Wright a while back about one of his books, that I really enjoyed. He came across as incredibly thoughtful and engaging. He’s been on my authors I need to read list for a while.
anon, well I for one hope there’s no past tense, and that Nate will be blogging with us still.
Thank you, Nate, for sharing your spiritual journey and being open and vulnerable. I have also found the questions much more compelling than the answers.
“One way I’ve tried to explain my departure is the Israelites wanting a king. Samuel told them having a king was a bad idea. But they wanted one anyway. So God told Samuel to give them a king. As I said in my post, I don’t think God would have told me to leave unless I wanted to leave. Because I wanted it, He gave it to me. Like Hedgehog says, “He gave them that too.” It also follows the pattern we teach for receiving revelation from the Book of Mormon. “If you desire to believe, let that desire work in you.” Or in my case, if you desire to leave, let that desire work in you. Maybe like Martin Harris and the manuscript, my desire will come back to haunt me. As Truman Capote wrote, “More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.””
It takes a lot of courage to incorporate this into your narrative.
And it seems to fit a good deal of what I’ve seen.
Look forward to your next post.
Well said. Like you, Nate, I also feel that the same spirit that led me to be active in the LDS church is the same spirit that led me out. If it’s Satan deceiving me, then he was also very convincing in getting me to attend church, seminary and institute, go on a mission, get married in the temple, etc. I literally can’t tell the difference. I guess where I diverge is in the idea of God telling me to leave because it was what I wanted. In my case, I was very happy participating in the church and in many ways, I feel that peace has been ripped from me. My faith journey has been an existential crisis at times. Unlike you, I don’t like surprises and crave certainty. It’s been a long time coming to a place of acceptance with uncertainty and I don’t feel like I’m all the way there yet.
Nate,
You, of course have our support. I wonder though, if the process of unconverting is so very similar to the process of converting. That point where, many, but not all, get a certainty that they are doing the right thing. That they have gained their testimony and must act upon it. And those who came from another faith tradition, are just as enthralled by the difference that the LDS Church has to offer them. The new versus the old.
We all have to make our way the best that we can. I wish you peace and best wishes.
Interesting to hear that others have also felt called out, like Steve Park and AmaterParent. I’ll bet if we scratch below the surface, a lot of what we call apostasy could be part of a bigger divine plan. I can’t remember who said it, but I even heard one theologian say that he thinks God calls some people to unbelief. Why not? All philosophies and religions are models for an infinitely complicated reality that could never be completely modelled by any one theology. Maybe some models work better than others, but I think it’s too easy for someone to look around and categorise the models into good, better, best, etc. The models we embrace say more about ourselves than anything outside of us.
Thanks for the thoughtful report on your move. I am reminded of some of Elder Orson Whitney’s comments quoted by Ezra Taft Benson :
“God, the Father of us all, uses the men of the earth, especially good men, to accomplish his purposes. It has been true in the past, it is true today, it will be true in the future.
‘Perhaps the Lord needs such men on the outside of His Church to help it along,’ said the late Elder Orson F. Whitney of the Quorum of the Twelve. ‘They are among its auxiliaries, and can do more good for the cause where the Lord has placed them, than anywhere else. … Hence, some are drawn into the fold and receive a testimony of the truth; while others remain unconverted … the beauties and glories of the gospel being veiled temporarily from their view, for a wise purpose. The Lord will open their eyes in His own due time. God is using more than one people for the accomplishment of His great and marvelous work. The Latter-day Saints cannot do it all. It is too vast, too arduous for any one people. … We have no quarrel with the Gentiles. They are our partners in a certain sense.’ (Conference Report, April 1928, p. 59.)”
https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1972/04/civic-standards-for-the-faithful-saints?lang=eng
Of course, the parts of this that speak most to me are: “Perhaps the Lord needs … men on the outside of [the LDS church]… God is using more than one people for the accomplishment of His great and marvelous work. The Latter-day Saints cannot do it all. It is too vast, too arduous for any one people….”
Best wishes. Keep blogging.
I have toyed with the idea that God will lead certain individuals out of the Church if it meant keeping many others in or allowing more to join. If that were the case, I really don’t know if it would apply here, but I thought it worth mentioning. I’m not saying you would intentionally lead people away, but I think the snowball effect often goes unnoticed.
I have an Evangelical friend who probably knows more about Mormonism than most Mormons do, but has never really had a witness of it. It’s mostly an academic exercise to him. And yet, his sincerity is such that I would have thought him way overdue for a witness by now. It occurred to me a couple of years ago though, that he’s done so much to educate nonmembers and anti-Mormons about the Gospel and the Church that he might actually be doing more good to advance progress or prevent obstacles in the growth of the Kingdom of God than he would as an actual member. One day perhaps.
Heavenly Father does indeed work in mysterious ways.
@eli
“Heavenly Father does indeed work in mysterious ways.”
With that line of reasoning, it’s equally possible that God is dissatisfied with the direction the Mormon church has taken since its inception in 1830, and is slowly shutting it down by directing members to leave. Based on some of the things happening in the Mormon church today, it’s not even very mysterious.
@ anon October 23, 2016 4:56 pm
“With that line of reasoning, it’s equally possible that God is dissatisfied with the direction the Mormon church has taken since its inception in 1830, and is slowly shutting it down by directing members to leave. Based on some of the things happening in the Mormon church today, it’s not even very mysterious.”
I never said that was my fall-back answer to everything. I think the answer to all mysteries involving the Kingdom of God are open to us with enough faith, desire, and effort. There are real truths, and falsehoods that need to be sought after, distinguished and discerned. Some take priorities over others. I do like to speculate, however, and do a little pondering along with it. Sometimes it takes me down interesting paths. That’s all I was doing with Nate’s story. I don’t feel a need to pray as to whether Nate’s decision was the right one, and taking his words at face value, I’m content to let it remain somewhat of a “mystery” for now. I guess that’s all I’m really saying. I’m always searching for truth, but there are areas I seek out more than others. I know of no one who does otherwise.
I do get somewhat annoyed when I hear more and more people, when speaking about the Church, say “The Lord would never allow [fill in the blank] to happen.” All too often it seems like a knee-jerk reaction. When one speculates and ponders the reasons as to why He might allow such a thing to happen, he or she might be surprised at what the Spirit whispers.
I realize my original statement may have come across as somewhat naive and close-minded. That was not my intent. I do feel such thinking often goes both ways though.
@eli
” I’m always searching for truth, but there are areas I seek out more than others. I know of no one who does otherwise.”
I think it’s just the opposite. Most people who seek the truth do *not* limit themselves to certain “areas”–which sounds a lot like Packer and Oaks saying “Some things that are true are not very useful”. There’s no need to twist yourself into a logical pretzel and take a passive aggressive jab at those who leave by saying “There’s nothing wrong with the LDS church–really, the Lord is using those who leave (and those “Evangelists”) to benefit the LDS church in some weird, backhanded, mysterious way.” Wrong. The simple, straightforward reality is that are things wrong with the LDS church that cause people to leave. That’s the truth. If you want to deny that truth, then you are just denying the problems instead of working to fix them.
Nate- I’m sorry to read about your decision to stop attending the Mormon church. I think it’s a mistake. I think its sad! With that said, I respect your agency and wish you the best. Remember, the door swings both ways.
I’ve spent a lot of time in the last ten years trying to understand why some Bloggernace Mormons struggle with doubt and a variety of other issues that sorely trouble them. In each case, it appears church members who make the decision to abandon their Mormonism do so because of intellectual reasons. The intellectual opposition to the church they encounter is not offset by sufficient manifestations of the spirit to hold them. In short, they may have a testimony, but were never converted by the Spirit.
This is Karen. Thanks for the ‘shout-out’ and acknowledgement of my personal journey being valid. It’s a paradox to be sure….same exact spiritual confirmations lead us out, as kept us in…
@ Anon 7:27 PM
I know the type of people you’re describing and I don’t consider myself one of them. A rule I’ve always tried to live by is to have an open mind and a discerning spirit. It’s led me to some pretty interesting places so far. I made no attempt to make a passive aggressive jab at Nate and truly wish him the best.
Yes, there are problems in the Church. I think it’s a natural consequence of having mortal men and women run it. I do think the Lord is working to remedy many of these issues through all levels of leadership. I have yet to find a better organization, as well as one with the same level of spiritual witness as to its truthfulness.
Thank you for the exchange.
anon, I wouldn’t say there is something “wrong” with the church in an absolute sense. I think some are called to it, and some aren’t. It works for some people, it doesn’t work for others. The problem with the church, if there is one, is that it insists that it is the only answer for everyone. When faced with that kind of absolute judgement from the church, it’s a temptation to claim the opposite, that it’s the wrong answer for everyone. But the church is actually extraordinarily functional in many people’s lives, regardless of how many problems you might find within it’s history or practice. There truly may be no better organisation for many people.
When I read comments like Eli’s I am touched by his efforts to expand his religious absolutism in ways that are not dismissive of my experiences, even if it necessitates some kind of judgement. It would be much easier to simply dismiss me as some kind of selfish sinner in need of repentance (which would also be correct, but unhelpful in actually understanding the paradox of my situation.) But he doesn’t do this, and I’m appreciative of that.
The trick for a disillusioned Mormon is to be able to judge the absolutism of the LDS church as something which serves an important purpose within the organisation, even if objectively wrong from an outsider’s perspective. Absolutism in general plays an important pole in human nature and morality, in the sense of absolute right and wrong. For me, absolutism is important, not in what it is being absolute about, but because it motivates a certain kind of faith and action. No LDS temple would ever have been built without a belief in the absolute essential nature of the ordinances. I don’t believe the ordinances are essential. But I DO believe the absolutism is essential for Mormon faith.
I certainly wish any person well in whatever path they take in life if they follow it out of true introspection and honesty, and judging from Nate’s posts at W&T, including this one, I don’t doubt that is the case with this decision.
But that doesn’t make it any less sad for me, and I would guess any less devastating for struggling members in his area who saw Nate as an example of a thoughtful, out-of-the-mold church leader who gave them hope that their own struggles would end well and made them proud to be a member of the church. I imagine it would be like struggling to keep your marriage intact but finding a good marriage counselor whose advice and insights gave you hope for the future, only to have her announce at your next session that she too is getting a divorce.
Thank you for sharing your story. My path is drastically different than yours, but currently runs parallel. Many years ago I made a mental switch that I wasn’t a person who ‘knows’ things, but rather a person who ‘seeks to know’ because the actual ‘state if knowing’ (reaching the destination) doesn’t actually exits. (Or perhaps it does exist, but is not possible for mere humans.) Rilke’s writings on this are so beautiful. I think I’m going to have to go read Coehn (who I haven’t heard of before) as well.
Right now I am working through the idea of worship: what that means to me and how I can experiment with practices. I find LDS worship incredibly dissatisfying and yet I am choosing at this time to find ways to worship that includes the LDS sunday services. You wrote something about your experience that struck me as being important for me: “A place to worship God and ponder our troubled relationship with Him.” I’ve never thought of my relationship with God as troubled. I strikes me as true of me, although I don’t even know why.
I feel pushed in a good direction by your post. Thank you again.