Online, I’ve noticed a repeated concern among middle way, liberal, progressive, or unorthodox Mormons. Although I accept that labels can be problematic, I think a common theme for these types of Mormons is (1) a feeling out of place with the church combined with (2) a desire to nevertheless maintain engagement with the church and with Mormonism.
A primary point of anxiety is leadership or priesthood roulette — the idea that one’s membership standing may depend on how one’s priesthood leaders judge their worthiness in light of differing beliefs or practices. Online are so many discussions about how one can avoid changes to their standing, and how one should or must moderate either expressions of their beliefs or their religious practice to achieve this.
To these members, it seems that the threat of disciplinary action is a great fear, and at the greatest of these feared actions is social and theological death itself: excommunication.
Even though the church itself discusses excommunication as part of the repentance process that should bring with it the eventual restoration of blessings, I have noticed anecdotally that in practice, excommunication seems to be associated with finality. Although there’s not a lot of information on the excommunication of General Authority Seventy James Hamula (and this post is not about his excommunication, so I would like to request that the comments not focus on it), I’ve noticed that most discussion and speculation discusses the excommunication as a final act — he’s out, and there may be some fallout as further details are revealed, but the presumption is: he’ll never be back.
And, wherever one interpreted Kate Kelly or John Dehlin or Rock Waterman or Denver Snuffer to be in terms of belief or desire to engage with the church, there is no question now that individuals like these now have a remote chance of ever re-engaging with the church. The rebaptism of Maxine Hanks (one of the September Six) in 2012 felt exceptional and rare, even though, when combined with Lavina Fielding Anderson (still excommunicated, but who never lapsed in activity) and Avraham Gileadi (who was rebaptized in 1996 and a blog post claims that his excommunication was expunged), adds to a record of a full half of the September Six having returned to engagement with the church.
Why is that? Why is there a sense that excommunication necessitates the end of LDS church activity? It is true that excommunication by definition results in the ultimate loss of official church privileges, and it is true that in many cases, excommunication can result in adverse social consequences. Mormons don’t officially shun, but, then again, Mormons don’t officially believe in prophetic infallibility, yet we all know how that saying goes. And yet, there is nothing stopping an excommunicated member from sitting in the pews.
In reading blogs and listening to podcasts of several Mormons attempting to live a middle way, I have noticed a theme that seems to account for the difference between those who continue to struggle (and who may end up leaving) as opposed to those who are able to stay more comfortably — the latter are grounded with testimonies that do not couple their status with God with their status with the institution. (As a side note, and without implying that SistasInZion is necessarily “middle way,” I’d just like to highlight Zandra’s tweet thread addressing why she does not feel “less than” in the church as a woman who is not priesthood ordained. As she puts it, “Maybe I’d feel less than if I saw priesthood keys as originals. But I don’t, because they’re spare keys. Jesus has the originals. And as a woman, the key doesn’t stand between Jesus and me.”)
This at first seems paradoxical. If an individual is not dependent on the institution, then why would they continue to engage with that institution? The additional piece is a sense of calling to strive with the community of the church.
If you hear John Gustav-Wrathall’s story, it would seem that he would be a perfect description of someone who would leave the church and never look back. He’s gay and happily married in a same-sex relationship. A little over 30 years ago, he considered suicide, but instead received revelation telling him to leave the church.
You might look at that and say that leaving would be the best for him, and expect him to be happily post-Mormon…yet…that wasn’t the end of his Mormon story.
John was one of the several panelists for the 2017 Sunstone “Why I Stay” pane. If you would like to hear this panel and support Sunstone, this session or any other session’s audio is available for purchase. However, John has also posted the text of his talk, so you can read his remarks for free.
You see, the same source of the revelation telling him to choose life over the church would eventually (at a Sunstone symposium, no less!) tell him that it was time to come home.
For John, his process has been individualized. It doesn’t fit the expectations. He has personal revelation that he should not, under any circumstance, leave his husband, and yet, the same spirit has told him to maintain the Word of Wisdom and to return to the church, even though that church sees him as an apostate.
Instead of experiencing fear and anxiety about his lack of institutional status in the church, John says:
I stay because God has told me that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is his church and it’s where he wants me. It’s where…the Spirit meets me and teaches me…
…My testimony has never required members of my ward to “be nice” to me. Nor has it required that the Church treat me as equal. It has nothing to do with the membership of the Church somehow collectively holding correct beliefs about everything. It doesn’t piss me off when somebody says something stupid in Sunday school or priesthood meeting. My testimony doesn’t require an aesthetically pleasing account of church history…
In the aftermath of the church’s November 5th policy against LGBT Mormons and their children, there are no illusions that Mormonism is getting easier for LGBT Mormons of faith. And yet, as John describes:
What had we lost? We had lost some illusions about a liberal progressive evolution of church policy on this issue. I was always skeptical of that kind of a scenario. I always suspected that this issue could only be tackled head-on, in the form of listening deeply to the real stories of LGBT Mormons, followed by doctrinal searching and prayer for new revelation.
What we hadn’t lost was ourselves, our stories, in their depth and totality. The Church might not understand us, but God does. God sees us. God saw me and said I was OK and that I need not worry and that he had this one.
In thinking about John’s story, I’ve thought about the question: what is the worst the church can do? There is a lot of power that we have been raised to give to the church — power over even our very lives, if we aren’t careful. And yet, what if we considered that the worst the church can really do is excommunicate? What if those who were excommunicated but who had a sure knowledge of the way that God sees them continued to participate as a quiet witness of that knowledge?
Wheat & Tares 
“What is the worst the church can do?”
I’m not afraid of leaving the church on my own terms. Many years ago it became important to me to know that I wasn’t in the church just because I was afraid to leave. If I weren’t married, I would have left long ago.
So why do I stay? Well, I like being married to my spouse. That is the primary motivator for making it work. And so the church has become my foil – forcing me to dig deep into my relationship with God to keep my head above water and my faith in Him intact.
What I am afraid of is the conflict any church discipline would cause me. Conflict from my spouse, for my children, my extended-family, within my community. Most of all, the anxiety and stress it would cause me having to face ‘authority’. I feel deeply powerless and vulnerable when it comes to church authority in a way I learned as a child and can’t seem to get rid of. I got a call from the Bishop’s office (turned out it was for an unexpected new calling) and didn’t sleep for two nights in advance and then shook and trembled (okay, my voice did anyway) when I had to face him. When it comes to church authorities, I feel like a small animal trying to huddle under a blade of grass from the rocks being thrown at me. That’s what I’m afraid of. And thus I keep my head low and decided long ago that if it ever happened, I’d refuse to participate.
The worst the church can do is beat up my sense of peace. I’m certainly not going to let them do it willingly.
Anony,
I see. That’s a really rough situation. So, in your understanding, disciplinary action would trigger just as much interpersonal family chaos as would leaving?
Yes. The funny thing is that if I refused to participate I could at least say ‘it wasn’t my choice.’ And I should add that I have a professional career where I work with any number of high-ranking (within their own spheres) individuals. The only people who have the ability to completely freak me out are church authorities.
The finality of an excommunication is really in the eye of the beholder. Certainly, for the ones I have participated in, the person is counseled to stay close to the Church and would be welcomed back at some point. I have also been a part of that process as well.
Yet, I will never forget sitting in the lobby of the Stake Center and watching a guy storm out of the High Council Room. My thought was, “He’s not coming back….” I don’t know if he did or not.
This essay makes sense to me. My personal testimony is a Lavina Fielding Anderson approach. I am in the church for the long haul for, I would guess, different reasons than some of my peers in the pews. At one point in time I made peace with the idea that I may experience rejection or discipline because of my perspectives. Since I’ve decided social positionality within religion is not an aspect of my testimony, I have to be true to personal revelation and my beliefs, even if, as a result, I’m viewed as apostate or sinful . However, I am sometimes careful in my approaches with my ward members and leaders because my family members, including my young children, may experience the unintended consequences of my behavior. For this reason, I find that I do a bit of a dance around community unity and resistance of oppression. It’s complicated.
I guess I’m too mainstream to truly understand the fear that the “middle way, liberal, progressive, or unorthodox Mormons” seem to have. To me, a bishop’s power really isn’t much greater than what we give him. He can deny temple recommends and callings, but if one’s faith doesn’t quite align, I’m not sure those are big losses. Given sufficient reason could start proceedings that would result in excommunication, but that wouldn’t be for unorthodox beliefs, but rather for promulgating them or publicly contradicting church teachings. Simply saying one disagrees or doesn’t believe isn’t actionable.
The worst thing the church can do is withdraw its friendship and social support. If one is heavily invested or reliant on that, losing it could be pretty painful. If one’s sense of self-worth is tied up in it as well, it would be even worse.
Anony, I don’t understand your fear of church leaders. I assume it’s slightly irrational, such as an arachnophobe’s fear of spiders. If you’d happily leave the church if not for your husband, it seems like your bishop’s opinion wouldn’t matter to you all that much. And, I find it very unlikely that you’d come afoul of church discipline unless you were actively acting against the church or its teaching in some way. Short of that, you’d simply be less likely to be assigned a big calling.
Martin – It is very much irrational. My sleepless nights worrying were all about what other members might have turned me into the bishop for (such as seeing a comment I made on FB or something like that) and wondering if LDS.org uses cookies and can track me on the progmo blogs I enjoy so much. The irrationality is a learned thing though. I remember clearly as a kid looking at the men at church after a primary sharing time on priesthood leadership and being afraid because they were priesthood and I was only a girl who could only ever become a mom while they got to become (in my kid mind) near gods.
Anyway, the bishop’s opinion doesn’t honestly matter to me. Rather its the needing to stand up for myself against him (the conflict) that creates so much anxiety in me. Because of the irrational fear, I lack the ability to do that, and thus end up feeling trampled by leadership authority who are always better at interpersonal dialogue than I. But you are right. I am unlikely to experience true discipline. Much more likely is my bishop calling me in to help ‘work through my doubts.’ (I’m pretty good at research, so I wouldn’t actually say I have doubts anyway.)
That’s all on me though. This post really struck a cord, but I don’t want to hijack.
Martin,
I think (especially from also getting comments on Facebook threads, etc., but also from folks like Anony) that social support is really crucial. In other words, regardless of what Anony personally fears about the *church leaders*, it seems legitimate for them to indirectly fear what the church leaders think because their *family* puts a lot of stock in what the church leaders say or think.
I think that when we speak about priesthood roulette or leadership roulette, we are precisely getting at the point that what is or isn’t actionable isn’t set in stone but is mostly up to the interpretation of one’s leaders. Whether you understand the fear or not, it seems reasonable to say that there is apparently enough diversity in how leaders treat these issues that many people can’t be sure of where the line is in terms of OK vs not OK.
I had a comment disappear (in case it magically shows up), but to reiterate. I absolutely realize that my fear is irrational. What I’m deeply afraid of is standing up to someone against whom I have no power (even if I know that it isn’t true logically, in the moment in that Bishop’s office I lack the ability to make it true). I really don’t care about the Bishop or his thoughts. I care deeply about the anxiety of the moment I would be caught in should he decide to corner me in an appointment. And I care deeply about the mess it would make in my family (in-law family. My birth family has mostly left the church already, which probably fuels the inlaws’ side worry about the matter).
And that’s probably enough from me.
Anony, I fished one of your comments out of the spam filter; let me know if there were any other comments that disappeared.
Anony, what if your bishop did become “concerned” about you? Let’s say he did read something you wrote online and wanted to see where your heart was at, not necessarily to preserve the purity of the institution, but because he cared about you (as a member of the flock), and asked for an appointment. What would you do, just say “no” without explanation? Seems like that would make your anxiety that much worse. What would a good bishop do (especially since he probably has no idea about your anxiety)? I’m sure you’d prefer he just pretend he’d never read it. Who knows? Maybe that’s what he’s doing! Leadership roulette is a real thing, but having such anxiety has got to make church really stressful and most bishops seem like pretty decent guys to me. Sorry to protract the thread jack, but it’s really interesting to me. It’s like you have a porn habit you’re personally okay with but are scared to death others might find out about. Are people really going to react to you like that?
“what is the worst the church can do?” This post mainly focuses on how the excommunication affects the individual and their worship, but it doesn’t address how the disciplinary action affects family members or other supporters. I mean, you can talk about staying in the church to preserve relationships, but I’m more talking about what happens to family members and other supporters when the discipline goes public. Even putting aside the recent news, you can point to Robert Norman or Kate Kelly or Denver Snuffer – there are many people who these individuals positively influenced that have to deal with the emotional shock of seeing someone they look up to disciplined by the church. Also, many loved ones must deal with nasty rumors circulating since our community is oh-so-good about ostracizing our own. Church discipline very much affects other people’s relationships with the church and its members, not just the person getting disciplined. That *has* to weigh on the mind of the person facing discipline.
You sucked me into continuing, if you truly are not sick of listening to me talk about myself I’ll try to answer your question (I say that with a smile on my face).
“Let’s say he did read something you wrote online and wanted to see where your heart was at”
I don’t see that it is any of his business where my heart is unless I choose to make it his business. This is a boundary issue for me. My bishop is a nice, kind man. Most bishops are decent. That doesn’t mean he should be injecting himself into my life without permission (without already having a relationship of trust (going back to my missionary days)). And if he tries to build a relationship of trust and is politely rejected, then he should go no further. There’s something weird in Mormonism about boundaries. My anxiety, I suppose, is that under the direct gaze and words of leadership, all my personal boundaries tend to crumble.
I avoid those who set off these types of red-flags for me, however I’m going to guess no one at church realizes that except my husband. Church is a pretty miserable experience for me, but that has more to do with how boring it is repeating the 7th grade for the 40th time rather than the anxiety. I only really feel anxiety when the roving eye of someone in authority settles on me. If leadership leaves me alone to do Mormonism my own way, I tend to be just fine (but bored) at church.
“It’s like you have a porn habit you’re personally okay with but are scared to death others might find out about.”
Hmmm… Except I don’t find that the shape of my faith is sinful (different than it might be from many other Mormons). And I don’t try to hide it. I don’t actually care if people know (and most people see me as an oddball and know I support SSM, etc. already). I just don’t want anyone who I lack the power to stand up to (authority) trying to smash my square peg into a round hole.
Thanks Andrew for saving my earlier post. First time that has ever happened to me.
I think Mary Ann and Andrew both make good points. The cynic in me says that excommunication is less a responsible used and useful administrative procedure and more likely represents a kind of serious emotional blackmail. As Anony’s comments indicate, the fear of losing one’s family can be a powerful (though absolutely immoral and inappropriate) incentive to force a questioning member to stay. I’ve known a few folks who were exed to came back into the fold, so to speak, but a lot of people I’ve known who were exed stayed away permanently. Less because of the social shame/spiritual baggage and more because they resented the church driving a wedge between them and their family. That does not, of course, absolve folks from serious transgressions or anything, but it does indicate, I think, that the church uses the threat of exing people as a powerful weapon. When the gay marriage debate was raging in this country about five years ago, I said something over the pulpit about supporting everyone’s civil rights (not specifically mentioning gay marriage.) Later, my bishop at the time pulled me aside and asked me what I meant and I told him I supported gay marriage and was thinking about becoming more vocal both inside and outside of church regarding my position. He looked me in the eye and said, “I’d hate to have to bring any kind of church discipline against you.” That just goes to show that a lot of the weapons that are used to keep people in line lurk just barely beneath the surface. I wouldn’t blame anyone for being scared. That’s a logical response to emotional and spiritual blackmail. Sadly, it’s exactly the response that the church depends upon.
There was a time when I would thought that unorthodox mormons should have little to fear from church discipline, for reasons similar to what Martin said. But I then again, I have always suffered from a lack of imagination.
Now I recognize that there are heavy costs to even the lightest forms of church discipline.
Here are some of the potential costs of public unorthodoxy which are painful even to non-believers, none of which require excommunication (which rare, especially for non-public personas):
– Missing the wedding of a family member (or having family members miss your wedding) by being forced to stay outside of the temple. One of the biggest regrets of my life is that my grandfather didn’t get to be at my wedding. At the time I felt it was his fault, but I do not feel that way anymore. This is a form of shunning.
– Having to stay outside of the circle for ordination of your children. A nonbeliever can still see value in the ritual of ordaining and giving blessings. It would be less painful if ordinations and blessings were traditionally done by clergy, Instead it feels like a usurpation of the father’s role when the circle is a bunch of people your child barely knows and you have to sit by and watch. Luckily I have not experienced this. Yet. This is also a form of shunning.
– Dealing with awkward comments. Someone I know once spoke of a chance encounter with someone from the stake who commented “I know you’re not with us anymore, but…” It’s like GOOD GRIEF people, we aren’t dead!
– Being the only house on the street to not get invited to the block party. A lot of the comments and OP seem to dismiss this kind of social niciety. Well, I think that is a BIG mistake. I mean, sure, I don’t think my self worth or church activity should be determined by whether my neighbors invite me over to share their smoked brisket. On the other hand, if we aren’t watching out for our neighbors to make sure they don’t feel socially isolated than we are doing something wrong.
– Should I mention science and politics at church? Not sure if this counts… Sometimes church feels like three hours of Foxnews. Just sayin’.
When you are looking around the bloggernacle, you are bound to see people concerned about their own membership status because they are putting themselves at risk by being public. I think we all benefit from the risk they take because we gain insight into that viewpoint. But the less-orthodox mormons I know in real life aren’t worried about excommunication as much as they are worried about their kids having someone to play with, or whether they will be able to attend their sister’s wedding
Rockwell, Get your act together. That comment about Fox News was off topic – not relevant to church discipline or the OP.
Martin – my bishop can do more than withdraw my temple recommend (which as you pointed out is no great loss). Because I am a woman, my bishop can excommunicate me.
“Rockwell, Get your act together. That comment about Fox News was off topic – not relevant to church discipline or the OP.”
…but nonetheless an entirely true burden for many of us.
The biggest fear for me in this whole leadership roulette thing is that my family will be punished. I have family members who work for the Church. While I think any sort of punishment because of me is unlikely, the possibility that my family members’ livelihoods could be at stake because I stirred up trouble scares me. I don’t think that would happen for little things, but if I were to become an activist, I worry there would be ramifications on my church employed family members. Also, when you live in an area that is almost entirely made up of Mormons and you have kids, you have to worry about the social ramifications of people telling their children that your children are the spawn of Satan.
A long time ago (well before I left Mormonism) I made the decision that I would not attend “surprise appointments” when I did not know what the agenda was ahead of time. I had a number of really horrible ambushes in situations like that, and so the anxiety was just too great.
I remember the first time after making that decision that I told a Bishop he would have to let me know what we were going to be talking about before I would agree to meet with him. I wasn’t hostile, just matter-of-fact. He looked like I had totally pulled the rug out form under him, but after stammering a bit, he agreed.
I don’t know why Mormon culture has developed the mystery summons to the Bishop’s office, but it’s horrible (and not required by any scripture or revelation I am aware of), so I just decided to opt out. I encourage you (and everyone else who has anxiety about that kind of thing) to do the same. Just say no thanks unless you know the agenda ahead of time. There’s no reason to withhold it from you other than just power for power’s sake.
Kullervo,
1000% agree. It is absolutely bizarre that there is this presumption that the Bishop can just ask to meet someone without letting them know what the meeting will be about, and that culturally, we are just supposed to accept this. I think that taking power back can begin by committing to engage only on one’s own terms in these situations.
Anony, sorry about the porn analogy — I read it this morning and I didn’t mean to imply wickedness or anything. Just that seemed to think you were harboring a deep dark secret everybody would be appalled at, and I was skeptical everybody would react that badly, but I realize I could be wrong.
No problem. Some do react badly, but mostly I just end up as other people’s ‘projects’. (I’m pretty sure I am one right now as I keep getting random invitations to church activities from people I barely know.)
I’ve been reading some of the commentary around this post here and on Facebook, and I feel I probably ought to clarify a couple of things.
First of all, when I was excommunicated, there WAS definitely a painful period of adjustment. My whole social network was in the Church, and my whole social network basically vanished over night — including lifelong friendships, such as the close friendship I had with a friend from high school whom I helped to convert and baptized shortly before my mission. He basically just literally stopped talking to me. It was heart-wrenching for my family. I refused to attend my church court, so my dad went in my stead, and it’s not possible to describe in words the level of pain he experienced. He might as well have attended my funeral. There was a period of approximately 3 years when I had little to no contact with my family at all.
Luckily, I was quickly able to assemble a new social support network that became basically an alternative extended family for me. I joined a Lutheran Church where I was actually kind of lionized for having left the “Mormon cult.” (There were all sorts of things that were problematic about THAT, and that’s definitely the subject of another discussion.) But I fortunately soon had a network of close, loving friends who nurtured me as I went through the NEXT big transition of figuring out my sexuality and coming out of the closet. Then THAT family largely abandoned me and I had to start over again!
That history of abrupt breaks and experience of abandonment definitely colored my return to activity in the church. There was actually a HUGE psychological barrier for me associated with coming back, and I can fairly state that I could not have done it without intense guidance/support/comfort from the invisible realm of God and of the Spirit. There was a fairly miraculous incident (described here: http://youngstranger.blogspot.com/2007/06/first-sunday.html) that made it clear to me that the Lord was helping me in this transition back.
That having been said… Is it possible to survive the “social death” of excommunication? Yes. We might even become stronger people as a result of it. Is there life after “social death”? A resounding YES. Building a resilient social network outside of Mormonism is probably something everybody should do, even if you never leave the church. Can we experience “resurrection” from social death? Yes! And I think you’ve already touched on the key to this: Having a strong, independent relationship with God. The principle of personal revelation is SO important.
And here’s the irony… An independent, strong personal relationship with God tends to dramatically strengthen our relationship with and commitment to the Church. One example from outside Mormonism is the Charismatic movement. In the 1970s, as the Charismatic movement was rocking the mainline churches, many mainline Protestants and Catholics accused “Charismatics” of disloyalty. They believed that at the first opportunity, Charismatics would create schismatic movements and/or abandon their home denominations. But studies done on Charismatics found that in fact their level of church activity and attendance, and their financial giving to the mainline denominations they belonged to actually stayed MUCH higher than that of their non-Charismatic counterparts.
When you put the horse before the cart (i.e., when you relationship with God is what is driving your relationship with the church), amazing things happen. You don’t get thrown off by every wind of doctrine (or of human fallibility) that rocks the Church. You stay grounded in what is actually the ground of any true faith… A relationship with the divine.
John D Wrathall — I really enjoyed your comments and this post. Thank you for both.
“In thinking about John’s story, I’ve thought about the question: what is the worst the church can do? There is a lot of power that we have been raised to give to the church — power over even our very lives, if we aren’t careful. And yet, what if we considered that the worst the church can really do is excommunicate?”
That’s actually a pretty good summary of every point I think I’ve ever made. People like John Dehlin take what would have to be called a “half belief” stance that makes no epistemic rational sense whatsoever — though it makes a good deal of sense if your plan is to try to win people to your views — which is how we know that was what John was really trying to do.
In a conversation with Greg Rockwell he told me he could show me active women currently being harmed by the church’s beliefs and I asked him why we felt the need to pretend these women weren’t adults capable of making their own decisions. If they were staying, they they were clearly getting some benefit out of it that exceeded the harm they claimed were being done to them.
The church can NEVER force anything on you. They have no true power at all in the worldly sense of the word — and that’s because the are a religion living in an open society! That’s what open societies did for religions — removed their power.
100% of religious ‘power’ is actually just the power of ‘influence.’ That’s it. You give it to them or you don’t. Up to you. And for the people it doesn’t work for — the damage is necessary limited (usually) because they can and do leave. and find something that works for them better. This ‘safety valve’ of religion is why religion is never as bad as it’s opponents claim it to be. (In open societies that is.. Not so outside of open societies)
So the only remaining question is the one of the OP — why are they ‘staying’?
And here by ‘stay’ that can mean either literally — why they choose to go to church still — or less literally — why does Andrew S spend such incredible amounts of time on the church? (Make no mistake, writing this well is terribly time consuming and he does it year after year!) Both are a form of ‘staying’ after a fashion.
This is the sole and only question worth asking if you really want to know what is going on. If you really want to know the truth.
If John Dehlin wanted to save marriages and help people in the church ‘stay involved’, why not take his 3000 or so followers (at the time) and teach them the big (NON) secret to saving their marriage — not acting in faith threatening ways towards their spouse in the first place. (Worked for me without the slightest hitch!) A fix so incredibly simple and so incredibly effective (most of the time) that the truly shocking thing is how often people don’t use it. Or rather it may seem shocking until you realize what is really going on. Then it makes perfect sense why former or part believers feel such a strong need to correct the whole church and why simply respecting the faith of their spouse isn’t going to work for many of them and they’d rather choose divorce than go that route. Emphasis on the word ‘choose’ here.
Now John did occasionally spend time talking about things like that and suggesting how to save one’s marriage through one’s own actions, but the overwhelming amount of his time was spent trying to teach people the LDS Church was *currently working for* realize that their faith losing spouse had *good reason to feel that way* and they (the faithful one) should change their views to better match the less faithful one. We’re talking like 100:1 in terms of time spent on the two sides. This amounts to deciding to decovert the entire LDS Church as his solution to the church’s problems rather than just teach his 3000 followers a simple fix. Why?
And, given his actions, can it ever be a truth that John’s *primary* concern was to save marriages? Or must it necessarily be he was primarily doing it for another reason? What was that reason?
These are the questions a seeker of truth will immediately ask themselves.
Bruce,
Long time, no see!
I’d make a couple of thoughts based on your comment here:
The thing that intrigues me is that in terms of “winning people over to views,” I think that someone like John Gustav-Wrathall is way more effective than John Dehlin. That being said, I don’t necessarily think that’s John G-W’s plan — it is at best a happy side effect. People can see past Dehlin’s “half belief” stance.
I think the main thing that’s become true in the discussions of this post here and elsewhere on the internet is that “influence” is brutal. Whether the church “made them” or not, there’s a lot of social fallout to not being seen as faithful and devout — divorce, loss of family, friends, etc., etc., As you say, Dehlin’s “half belief stance” makes sense in part precisely because the influence of the church would cause a lot of folks to dismiss him out of hand without that stance. We can point out that this influence is not forced, and yet, it still has tangible effects.
aww shucks, thanks pal. i know that this message has an ulterior motive, but i’m glad you think i write well, and that i spend a lot of time at it XD
But isn’t that the entire point of a “half belief” stance? One hides what one really believes to preserve relationships (whether institutionally with the religious hierarchy or socially with family and friends.) In a church culture where disaffection is faith threatening, then acting in non-faith-threatning ways is more about deception.
The issue is that “authenticity” as the buzzword of disaffected Mormons is a breaking and shattering of the half belief stance. The half belief stance of new order Mormonism (and I have to say, I feel like you’re implicitly conflating New Order with Middle Way and I do not see those as the same. But I understand why you would do it, and I also understand that labels are really imprecise in any case) is seen to be disingenuous and stifling for so many, And yet, radical “authenticity” is predictably insufferable.
Bruce Nielson states: “If they were staying, they they were clearly getting some benefit out of it that exceeded the harm they claimed were being done to them.”
Or perhaps they’re acting altruistically, and they’re staying for someone else’s sake. Alternatively, perhaps they’re not getting a benefit out of it, but they would be punished by others for leaving.
Middle way active mormon in rexburg here. I agree w some of the dynamics anon has addressed, but I don’t have the same anxieties. The most it came to is when I met with my local leaders to discuss women’s issues I left my TR at home in case things went south.
I consider my liberal views as compatible with the Gospel of Jesus Christ that I access through my participation in the Mormon Church, which many view as incompatible. And the longer I stay in the less weight local and general authorities have on my spiritual life. So let’s say I don’t have as much fear of losing my temple rec, bc the temple also has less weight in the spiritual life, which I negotiate mostly between me and God. (That spiritual independence I’ve seen amongst black Mormons like the SiZ has been a good example to me.) But me not having a TR does ostracizes me from community and family events and negates my assertion that “I belong here just as much as anyone else.” When one of the points of my staying is to make the tent bigger – discipline threatens those goals I have. So negotiating the space is important for fully believing/hoping (I don’t have to KNOW) middle way mormons who are hoping to make changes from the inside. No one listens to you if you don’t have a TR. But if you can testify from the pulpit and attend temple nights with them it’s going to hopefully cause some cogdis.
Bruce, I’d like to quibble a bit with a couple of your comments.
You seem to know quite a bit about LDS culture and such so I am surprised that you would make such a statement. The Church’s influence is not “up to” those who have been disciplined, disaffected, etc. The Church’s influence is wide-ranging, potentially affecting relations with family, friends, neighbors, or one’s career (especially if one works for the Church) and the Church leaders are aware of this, as can be seen in the comments to this post or, in the case of the New Zealand and Provo MTC real estate developments, where members were “invited” by their leaders to sustain the prophet. It seems disingenuous to dismiss the multi-faceted ways influence is wielded by the Church.
Many people who are not directly affiliated with the Church are interested in and study the Church. Do you similarly wonder why John Turner and other non-LDS people are also interested in the Church?
I read a short biography of Martin Luther last year. A look at his journey out of the Catholic faith and becoming one of the pillars of the Reformation is instructive- to both those disagreeing to some degree or trying to be or stay in the middle, and to those doing the excommunicating.
Luther was an intelligent, persuasive preacher and had incredible courage. He was willing to walk literally into the jaws of death and say Here Stand I. His response to the pope excommunicating him was that he excommunicated the Pope. He and his followers were convinced it was just as valid. At that time excommunication was often followed by torture and execution.
If a person went into a bishop or a high counsel today who was considering an unjust excommunication and told them that they were risking their own souls to eternal damnation and did it with forcefulness and conviction, we might have a different church. What was done in the name of discipline to some of the people mentioned above was obviously unjust. Our leaders who are responsible are going to have to face judgement for it at some point. They place themselves in a more vicarious predicament than the place wherein are those whom they excommunicated.
What Luther did worked. It catalyzed a split of Christianity almost in half. It started a war where hundreds of thousands gave their lives for one cause or the other. Other wars followed. Luther regretted the wars more than anything else. What the Pope did didn’t work. It made matters worse. Luther’s courage eventually inspired a counter-revolution in Catholicism.
I think bearing the truth with courage is a powerful place to be.
The LDS church takes another terrible risk every time it axes one of these members of our loyal opposition. The Catholics of Luther’s time got away with burned hundreds of people at the stake and tried to stop the forces rolling over its wickedness. It is only going to take a modern Mormon of Luther’s meddle in the right place at the right time and we will be dealing with schisms and fragmentation. Possible bloodshed, although that seems unlikely today.
Mike, “Luther was an intelligent, persuasive preacher and had incredible courage. He was willing to walk literally into the jaws of death and say Here Stand I. His response to the pope excommunicating him was that he excommunicated the Pope.” Funny, the followers of Denver Snuffer and other prominently excommunicated members would argue that description matches their person.
The church deals with schisms and fragmentation more often than is publicized. The official line since Brigham Young has been to publicly ignore the existence of break-off groups while pressing local leaders to discipline those with growing influence. The age of social media and the internet is allowing some of these disciplined members a bigger public platform to air grievances, but mainstream members have been conditioned to ignore those outside the institution. It is from those *with* institutional authority that the church faces greater risk of schism. The church identifies apostasy by the earmark of challenge to current leadership (FP & Q12). You get a popular “prophet, seer, and revelator” like Holland or Uchtdorf to go rogue, and we might actually have schism on the relative scale of Luther’s. Then it will be much harder for the church to argue that God will never allow it’s leaders to lead the church astray. If Hamula’s discipline *had* been for apostasy or disillusionment, it would’ve been damaging for many members, but still not enough to cause the level of schism you’re describing.
How sad is it that women aren’t even trusted with the “spare keys”? I have yet to hear an analogy on why women don’t have the priesthood that is satisfying. Whether it be spare keys, opening the blinds to the window to let in the light of Christ, etc… it all just sounds very hollow to me. God trusts 12 year old boys with the spares, but not grown up women? … I’m sorry for the tangent, but if we are all to be disciples of Christ, and if Christ is the perfect example for all, than all of us should not only be allowed to do as he did, but should be encouraged to follow in His perfect footsteps.
After Mike’s comment including bloodshed, torture, burning at the stake, and grand schism, it’s worth reviewing exactly who’s hurting whom.. Good grief. Some middle way, liberal, or progressives Mormons act like they’ve woken up to find themselves on the Death Star and their Mormon family and friends are imperial drones under the thrall of Darth Vader. If that’s truly what you think of the church, then you shouldn’t be surprised if your family and friends, who you’ve classified in that way, are going to reject you to some extent. You’re hurting them too.
Let me point out that any group of people united in common interest will necessarily defend their boundaries. Hang with the feminists because you want opportunities for women, but if you harbor the idea that men and women are biologically different and that therefore might be better at different things, you’d better keep that to yourself or they’ll excommunicate you. Hang with the liberals because you want social justice, and think that some people might share in the responsibility for their own poverty, then you’d better keep that to yourself or they’ll excommunicate you. Hang with the NRA people because you like to shoot, but you favor some sort of gun regulation, then you’d better keep that to yourself or you’d better not show up at the range. When your views differ with the group’s to an adequate extent, and you’re actively expressing them, you are no longer an ally — you’re working against their cause. If through your actions you’ve demonstrated enough common cause, you can get away with expressing some heterodox beliefs, but only if and only to an extent. Otherwise, you’re basically rejecting them just as much as they’d be rejecting you. That’s just the way it is, and it can be painful, especially if all your family, buddies, and social network are feminists, or liberals, or NRA.
It is also natural for groups with common interest to want to have their own space. A political party holds its convention for its true believers. If you were to show up just to eat the treats and hobnob with the powerful, you shouldn’t be surprised the other attendees don’t welcome you when you express disinterest or contempt for their platform or candidate. I know that if someone told me that she thought that parts of the temple ordinances were offensive, and the rest mostly innocuous if overwrought and meaningless, and then I find her in the sealing room at somebody’s wedding, and she just she says she’s happy to see me there, I’m not sure I could reciprocate. If her primary reason for holding the recommend was just for the social benefit, or the ability to get to the pulpit in order to generate cognitive dissonance (as Kristine A suggests), then we are not in common cause and not in unity of the faith. That sealing ordinance is most sacred to me. It is not simply a shortcoming on my part for me to wonder if she isn’t some sort of threat.
In other words, it goes both ways. God gives us all space to work through our issues and sort out our faith, and I feel there’s a fair amount of room within the church for that as well. I think genuinely humble seekers are pretty much always welcome, even if their beliefs are quite different (because Mormons believe that humble seekers will eventually come to the truth). There’s plenty in the church that needs improvement, and those humble seekers will likely help make those improvements. There are plenty of people who have heterodox beliefs who can legitimately claim “It’s my church too!”, but there are plenty of others for whom that simply isn’t the case. They’re no longer asking questions — they’ve got the answers, and if their answers work against the church and its mission, they shouldn’t feel welcome.
Bruce N: I’ll take a crack at responding to several of your statements.
“People like John Dehlin take what would have to be called a “half belief” stance that makes no epistemic rational sense whatsoever — though it makes a good deal of sense if your plan is to try to win people to your views — which is how we know that was what John was really trying to do.” To paraphrase the novel Les Liasons Dangereux, it’s easy getting people to do what they want to do. The hard part is getting them to want to do what you want them to do. John’s task (if your statement is accurate) is the former, not the latter. Having said that, I don’t really agree with your characterization that JD is trying to influence thinking. He’s trying to corral disbelievers into a cash stream, at times for altruistic reasons (one could say all therapists corral individuals in need into a cash stream), at times he seems to be just trying to figure it out himself. But I don’t think JD is what this post is about anyway. He forced their hand in his excommunication. He wasn’t living in dread of it.
“In a conversation with Greg Rockwell he told me he could show me active women currently being harmed by the church’s beliefs and I asked him why we felt the need to pretend these women weren’t adults capable of making their own decisions. If they were staying, they they were clearly getting some benefit out of it that exceeded the harm they claimed were being done to them.” While I agree that women need to make their own choices, that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try to remedy the institutional harm. This sounds like a recipe for complacency.
“If John Dehlin wanted to save marriages and help people in the church ‘stay involved’, why not take his 3000 or so followers (at the time) and teach them the big (NON) secret to saving their marriage — not acting in faith threatening ways towards their spouse in the first place.” So what exactly is a “faith threatening way”? Every marriage is different. Every individual is different. Does supporting your spouse in attending church while choosing not to attend constitute “faith threatening”? Does not having a TR? Surely this is a moving target. Also, a faith so fragile probably isn’t worth protecting.
Martin – I get your point, and agree that it is correct. Groups of people with common interests do united together to defend their boundaries. I find the study of such fascinating and useful. At the same time, isn’t this the Natural Man we are all supposed to overcome? I don’t see Jesus or the Atonement as caring about maintaining social boundaries.
Martin: I really enjoyed your comment and tend to agree. I wanted to ask some further clarification on a few points, though.
1 – what do you do when the institution has shifted over time from a more general position (or no position) and suddenly clarifies or shifts in a way that is unacceptable to an individual while other parts of the institution are still valuable? Because we are all Cafeteria Mormons, and being 100% lock step on every point is impossible, at what point is a person intolerable?
2 – “That sealing ordinance is most sacred to me. It is not simply a shortcoming on my part for me to wonder if she isn’t some sort of threat.” To clarify, if changes were made to the sealing ordinance to remove the gender-based inequities in the covenants and to eliminate the polygamy-hinting language that is so similar to D&C 132 in the ceremony–actions which would probably appease the majority of women–while retaining the sealing ordinance itself, would you still find it sacred? If so, are the points of disagreement inconsequential in how you view Kristine A at the ceremony? (I am just using your example without regard to her actual views).
Anony, the boundaries I’ve described are substantive ideological boundaries, not merely social ones. Half the letters attributed to Paul were specifically about setting those boundaries (establishing doctrine) and protecting the flock from false ideologies and false brethren. The scriptures are awash with statements supporting the idea that there should be boundaries. “Come ye out from the wicked, and be ye separate, and touch not their unclean things. And behold, their names will be blotted out, that the names of the wicked shall not be numbered among the names of the righteous” (Alma 5:57) “….having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof. From such, turn away….Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth… But they shall proceed no further, for their folly shall be manifest unto all men” (2 Timothy 3:5,7,9) “…those who were lifted up in the pride of their hearts — the same were rejected, and their names were blotted out, that their names were not numbered among those of the righteous” (Alma 6:3) Maintaining boundaries is not necessarily (though it can be) an unrighteous act of the natural man.
Angela C, you asked “at what point is a person intolerable?” I can only answer for myself, but my answer is basically this: does this person on the whole strengthen my faith and the faith of those I love, or does this person tear down my faith and the faith of those I love? If it’s the latter, I would find them intolerable. I would think that those who are humbly striving to exercise whatever faith they have in spite of doubts and even disagreements would always be people who would strengthen my own faith, because I struggle too. Maybe not with the same things, but they’re striving and I’m striving. We’re both exercising whatever faith we have. Those who come to church with their own agendas, not so much seeking knowledge, but to correct the church’s positions or doctrine, are generally people who don’t exercise faith because they have knowledge — or at least they’ve decided they have knowledge — and they tend to tear down faith.
I’m going to answer the 2nd question indirectly by illustrating my answer to the first. I know women who struggle hard with what they see as inequities in the temple ceremonies. Yet they come. Not out of social obligation, not with an agenda to fix it, and not to make themselves martyrs, but because they feel like God wants them in the temple. They can’t agree with it, but they’re humble enough to be there because they want to be obedient to their Heavenly Father and they trust that He wants them there and that He doesn’t want to hurt them. I’m am so inspired by these women and feel so much kinship. They serve in callings, strive to remain faithful to whatever witnesses the Lord has given them, and go to the temple seeking, even if they cry through part of the ceremony. I too have cried when I felt the Lord has asked things of me I’ve felt were unfair, even if they were totally different. I believe with all my heart that at some point that pain will be relieved, just as I have to believe mine will be as well. If that comes through revelation to God’s prophets, seers, and revelators to change the wording of the temple ceremonies, I could only rejoice. It would detract not at all from the witnesses God has given me regarding the power of the sealing ceremony. But I want it from God. The church has had enough problems from well-meaning leaders introducing doctrine and policies from their own best judgment.
On the other hand, there are those who look at these women with scorn for not standing up for themselves, for still exercising their faith in something they can clearly see is wrong. These people don’t build faith, don’t respect these women for what they’re trying to do, and honestly, I don’t want them in the church.
Martin: I don’t know any such people who look with scorn at the women who attend the temple despite the sexism in the rites, blaming the women who attend for being complicit (I think that’s what you are saying). I’m surprised if you do. How would you know that such a person existed? How would their scorn be manifest to you? I’ve never met such a person. I really can’t imagine that you, particularly given that you’re a man, would be privy to these individuals’ scorn for well-meaning temple goers. The women I know who dislike the sexism in the temple certainly don’t blame women for it.
“I too have cried when I felt the Lord has asked things of me I’ve felt were unfair, even if they were totally different.” Why do you assume God is the author of sexism in the temple?
To get the level of schism Luther got swept up in, we need to have the level of wickedness in the church Luther saw in his day and the level of power the church abused at that time. The schisms are small today because the flaws are relatively small. But what direction are we going?
Still, I wish more people had the courage to be genuine, that we as a church had enough compassion that we could weather genuine honest criticism in our family and in our community and not resort to drastic measures. I just don’t see how cutting off Dehlin , Snuffer, and people like the September Six (admitting they re far from perfect) was worth it and it does carry risks.
Going all the way back toward the top, Andrew notes:
regardless of what Anony personally fears about the *church leaders*, it seems legitimate for them to indirectly fear what the church leaders think because their *family* puts a lot of stock in what the church leaders say or think
I can’t imagine how they’d excommunicate me, but we have a new bishop so the ball has just spun around the roulette wheel again. You never know – and I tend to be a little outspoken. My family would be devastated, especially my extended family on my wife’s side (they’re the members). My kids would be divided on the issue, depending on what the reason was. Fortunately, I don’t live in MormonLand, so no one outside church circles would know or care.
I think there is a big difference in “recovery rates” for excommunications depending on the reason for the action. I’m familiar with three cases, brethren and sisters that I know well, who were excommunicated for adultery and worked their way back. They attended regularly, did what they needed to do, and were rebaptized. I think that would be much more common than returning from an excommunication for apostasy, especially on a strongly-felt issue that isn’t what I’d think of as a “book issue.”
For example, I suppose that you’d be teaching false doctrine if you taught the standard Christian doctrine of the Trinity in an LDS church. That’s a “book issue,” and you could perhaps be reasoned with, brought to an understanding of the truth, and straighten out. But an issue like decent treatment of human beings regardless of gender or sexual orientation, well, that’s different. Not so much a book issue.