A lot of discussion in the bloggernacle is about faith crisis, and one of the topics that often comes up is why some things are enough to push one person out, but not another. Depending on the individual, a new fact or experience can be a shelf breaker or result in a shrug. In this sense, our reaction to these facts and experiences is really about more than the truth or untruth of facts or the inherent acceptability of things that happen, and more about what is internal. These can reveal one’s character.
Whoa. Now, before I get any further, let’s settle down a bit about the word “character.” We tend to think of “character” as a thing that you either have or lack, that it can be bolstered by hard work, camping in the snow, and eating vegetables, and that lack of it means you aren’t a good person but having it means you are resilient. I’m actually using the term differently, so let me explain.
I’ve been reading a book by Robert Greene called The Laws of Human Nature. He uses the term “character” to simply refer to one’s nature. There is no person who “lacks character.” We all have character, formed by a mix of genetics and early experiences. Revealing and understanding our character is a life’s journey to discover and train oneself. Likewise, understanding the nature or character of others is useful in social situations and group dynamics. We develop patterns of behavior, usually unwittingly, and we don’t observe these patterns in ourselves. Sometimes the people who are closest to us notice these patterns, but good luck trying to convince us we behave this way!
In the book, he talks about 4 layers of character development:
- Genetic predispositions. This is wired into our DNA, our tendencies toward or away from depression, anxiety, happiness, introversion or extraversion.
- Earliest attachment years. This layer, which I’ll talk about more at length in this post, is about the nature of the relationship we have with our caregiver(s) at our youngest age.
- The next layer is the habits we develop and experiences we have as we continue to grow up. These patterns are set in our youth in response to things we encounter.
- The fourth layer is developed in late childhood and adolescence as we discover our own character flaws and negative patterns. We devise strategies to hide them from discovery and to shield ourselves from criticism of these flaws. We create a “front” to hide behind.
Let’s revisit #2, the character development during our earliest attachments, our earliest interactions with parents or other caregivers that often occur on a subconscious level and may not even be part of our acknowledged memories of childhood. Anthropologist and psychoanalyst John Bowlby studied patterns of parental attachment and came up with 4 types:
- Free / autonomous. These caregivers give their children freedom to discover, but are also protective of them and sensitive to them. These children are usually the most well adjusted feeling secure yet self-confident. They don’t fear relationships nor independence.
- Dismissing. These caregivers are somewhere on a continuum between merely distant or emotionally unavailable and outright hostile or rejecting of the child. Children of a dismissing parent will feel they can only rely on themselves and will wall themselves off from emotion because of a distaste for feeling dependent on another person.
- Enmeshed / ambivalent. These caregivers are inconsistent in their attention, at times retreating from the child due to their own anxieties or problems, and at times smothering and too involved. Children of these types of parents often take on a caregiving role toward the parent, trying to compensate for the parent’s anxieties. These children often have the same issues with anxiety in relationships, feeling ambivalent toward others, pursuing and then retreating.
- Disorganized. These caregivers send conflicting signals to the child, reflecting their own emotional traumas and inner conflict. Because of the chaotic feedback from these parents, a child may believe s/he cannot please the parent, nothing they do is right, and they may develop serious emotional problems as a result.
That’s not to say that one’s earliest caregivers were strictly pigeonholed. Depending on what was happening in life, a caregiver could be somewhere on a continuum for more than one of these types. Additionally, a parent will often react differently to different children, creating a different result. A mother who is dismissing and distant with a less favored child may be over-involved or smothering with a favorite. This may be particularly true in cultures that favor some types of children over others (e.g. oldest sons vs. another daughter). And parental skills can develop and change over time depending on what’s happening in the adult’s life: setbacks or windfalls, moves, losses, divorce, remarriage, etc.
So how might these types and the downstream patterns of self-preservation they engender play out in a person with a faith crisis? Here are some possibilities:
- Free/autonomous. A well-adjusted confident child may become an adult who can maintain a balanced perspective, weighing the discovery of unfavorable facts or negative experiences with a wealth of internal resources and confidence. They may stay or leave, but they will probably do so in a steady manner without some of the drama and angst that are the more common experience. They will expect to be supported and have confidence in their ability to make right decisions.
- Dismissive. The child of a dismissive parent may seek to be dispassionate and logical in assessing pros and cons of disfavorable information or experiences, but ultimately, this is a mask for fear of rejection and fear of being vulnerable. This person may seem dispassionate about religious doubts and questioning, but is ultimately afraid of being wrong, afraid of being dependent on something they now see as unreliable, afraid of opening up emotionally to spiritual experiences or frail human relationships. If they sense rejection as a result of religious disaffection, they may completely disengage from the source of rejection, be it relationships or the church itself. Or they may remain, but develop emotional distance, putting on an acceptable mask, but feeling distant and removed.
- Enmeshed / ambivalent. When confronted with doubts and faith crisis, the third type of child might entrench and try to defend the church to the death against its detractors, until at some point, they feel used or embittered about their efforts, and then they may quickly retreat and leave, switching to the other team as it were. They may even swing back and forth, trying to decide how to sort out their ambivalent feelings toward both the good and bad things they see and encounter in relation to the church.
- Disorganized. The fourth type may develop issues with compulsion and perfectionism and even become depressed or self-harming in the face of religious doubt. Eventually this person may lash out and become antagonistic and hostile unless these feelings are resolved.
This is not necessarily a perfect model for understanding one’s own response to disaffection, but is simply one more angle to consider in trying to sort through one’s own responses to doubt.
- Is this parental attachment model useful to you?
- Do you see yourself in any of these types?
- Would understanding these motives help us in helping others with doubts to work through their experiences?
- Which type do you think would be most likely to stay in the church? Which would be most likely to leave?
Discuss.
Wheat & Tares 
I have used Parental and Family Models in the past to explain the LDS church.
In Mormonism, religion, spirituality and deity are tightly bound. They are often described in family terms. We have labels of Brothers and Sisters in the church. The Bishop is called the Father of the ward. God is called our Heavenly Father. We are called children of God. We are promised that God loves us just like our earthly father does.
These terms work well for people who have rational and loving parents.
When I see people coming out of families full of turmoil, broken promises and unreliability, those family comparisons do not work well. Failures within the religious organization can become viewed as equivalent to the family-of-birth’s failures.
In my own family, I can see familial dynamics being reflected in religious involvement. The youngest and favored child has remained devoutly involved in the LDS church. The child that was most rejected has stayed involved while she continues to volunteer and struggle for a parental/authority figure to give her the acceptance that she craves. She finds authority figures within the church that fill that need. The 3 children who felt like they were emotionally abandoned and raised themselves have each built their own stable lives outside of Mormonism. So many missionary efforts within Mormonism focus on Happy Families. The truth is that Mormonism is not going to heal family dynamics. Someone who leaves a troubled non-LDS family, joins the church and creates a new dynamic can find excellent ways to move forward within LDS culture. When the troubled family is LDS, there isn’t an equivalent path of healing within the culture. It simply gets complicated and very hidden.
I think the first “more” in the penultimate sentence of the first paragraph means “less.” Am I right?
Re: questions:
1. Not much
2. A bit, but so complicated as to more than one type that it is not particularly helpful
3. Maybe if one knows the historical parent-child relationship well and it fit one of these types clearly
4. Little to no predictive value in my very limited observation. Both staying and leaving seem all over the map as to these categories, though the categories, if identifiable to individuals, might have some correlation to other particular life experiences with the Church.
Your mileage may vary. Considerably, even.
I grew up in an enmeshed relationship with a primary caregiver, and my escape from that relationship came along with an escape from the church, and vice versa. My caregiver created an environment in my home where the boundary between her and the church was non-existent. She was the church in the home. The church was her at church. There was no difference. To defy the one was the defy the other.
Even as a married adult with kids, I was subject to her authority, and she used the church as her source of authority over me. When I left the church, suddenly her relationship with me changed. Instantly! She no longer had any power over me. She no longer asked me about the private details of my life to make sure I was staying “in line.” Her power was completely cut out from under her. I know this to be true, because she continued to exercise the same old authority over the lives of my siblings who remained in the church.
I believe this is simply the reality of the doctrine of eternal family. Nelson says we are saved as individuals, but exalted as families. The best way to destroy a domineering parent’s Mormon fantasy is to leave the church. When all the kids are on the “covenant path” it is a lot of fun to be a Mormon. That goes away when a child leaves. Being a Mormon is a burden from that point onward.
I left the church and I am never returning, because I am personally convinced it is not what it claims to be. To me, this is simply a matter of fact. Admitting this to myself and acting upon it has been an act of liberation from a lot more than just the church.
I like this breakdown.
It’s not uncommon for the church itself to functions as a sort of third parent. I think that if asked, the church as a whole would like to think of itself as a free, autonomy-promoting parent. But for its children (of any age) who are mold-breaking norm-violators (eg doubters, homosexuals, people who vote Democrat in the US), the church is definitely experienced as dismissive and even rejecting parent.
Part of that’s down to doctrine, but I think more of it goes back to culture and the instinct of those with power to protect the traditions that gave them that power. That’s John’s point in the comment above mine, and I think it’s extremely important.
This is an interesting take. Thinking about it, I think you’re right, attachment style might not only affect and help explain our interpersonal relationship dynamics, but can help in some measure explain our behaviors with or toward an institution, particularly a religious one as it is also a relationship and a pretty personal one at that.
Like the commenters above display, from what I have seen it does seem people’s life changes in relation to the church coincide with and mirror changes in their relationships generally, independent of the church. So I think this view is valuable, thanks.
So what you’re saying here, hawkgrrrl, is that there are actually many Covenant Paths, not just one — and which one you are on is, to some degree, determined by your “character” (in the sense described above) and parenting experience as a young child.
I suspect most Church leaders, whether local or senior, would reject this idea rather forcefully. Their matrix for determining whether people respond favorably to the gospel message and whether they act as zealous members, ho-hum members, or inactive members is all about the unfettered and autonomous choice of the individual to follow The Spirit or The Adversary. Any suggestion that personal choices are, in fact, fettered or limited by a difficult or traumatic past is almost entirely unwelcome. (No wonder LDS pastoral care is so inadequate.)
Amazing comment John and so useful to me.
None of our kids is active, and I really really have to work hard on myself not to take that grieving, ultimately manipulative role. I see it all around me and we are actively encouraged as women to adopt this stance.
I do all I can to counter that narrative when I teach in RS or converse with my sisters, and in my mind am very able to accept my kids right to self determination and actively try to counter whatever misunderstanding could grow up around this. My kids are good people and have a right to free agency.
But every time I go to church I leave feeling like a failure and feel the absence afresh of not being able to communicate my spiritual self with them, and it all seems futile. Frankly at the moment I’d rather be closer to my kids and further from my faith.
I might also say that my husband and I deeply offended our parents by joining the church and so never had their support. Our dream was to have an active, happy family so we set about creating one for ourselves. So now we feel we have nothing.
I wonder about your parents John and the felt safety of their own attachments to their parents? I think faith has to grow without the fear that we might lose our parents love should we not make the same choices as them. I hope there will be space and time for you to discover the love that may be being expressed currently in control, when you feel safe enough in your own self determination. Parents make mistakes.
Damascene—so if children leave the church that reflects parental failure to give them a family worth having?
This is a great post. I don’t have any answers, just a few general observations regarding people with doubts:
1. I think that both the church itself and many families in the church, especially those in the literal believer group, have a truly unfortunate tendency to associate doubt or even just honest questions (that likely can’t be answered) with some sort of lack of spirituality or lack of humility, obedience, etc. I also think that that this leads to one family member’s faith crisis being a tragedy instead of an opportunity. I’ve seen so many families whose kids have left the church and the parents are so ashamed or guilty or something else, as if it’s a fault, not a good thing, that the kids can think for themselves and act according to what their consciences tell them. It’s so sad to see. And I do think that many parents feel as if they need to choose either the church or their kids. Similarly, I think many married couples in the church often experience the same thing when one partner decides to leave the church. For all that the church (or at least church culture) touts the importance of strong families and marriages, the very way it criminalizes doubt and (not so subtly) hints that any kind of marriage is LESS THAN the ideal temple marriage featuring two active spouses actually ends up weakening families. In my experience, most Mormon families are far more fragile than the non-Mormon families I know. Take just one brick out of the “perfect eternal family” wall and the whole structure falls. Quite sad and really too bad. IMHO, any church that suggests or implies that one should choose it over familial ties is veering into the cult category rather than the religion category.
2. Another aspect of doubt-shaming of course, is the fact that if people feel like they will be shamed if they speak their own truth about matters spiritual, they’re much more likely to keep their mouths shut and just soldier on. I think this often happens with kids in the church. They often grow up going to church not because of some blazing spiritual commitment, but because their parents tell them to. This leads to (as it has in my ward over and over) the kids toeing the line until about the age of 16, then vocalizing the fact that they don’t want to participate in church things anymore. The parents are stunned, shocked, embarrassed, etc because they’ve helped create a home life where questions aren’t permitted. Of course many parents don’t do this, but there are enough in my ward and stake to make me think that this is part of the problem. If you are creating the family dynamic where the kids just “need to go to church”, they’ll likely suck it up and soldier on, but they won’t talk to their parents about their issues. (and not talking about issues is poisonous to any relationship, especially familial ones) They’ll just stop being active when they move out or sometime in high school. Neither of my children are particularly enthusiastic about church and I acknowledge that with them and I’ve asked them to attend at least through the end of high school. They won’t be active in the church after that, but that’s not going to take me by surprise, at least. It’s a difficult path to walk, for sure, to honor the selfhood and agency of one’s children while still trying to help them see what bits of good there are in the church. My heart goes out to all parents.
PS: To Handlewithcare: I’m so sorry about what you go through at church. The fact that your kids are, as you say, “good people” means that you are absolutely not a failure.
Handle with care—you have my sympathy.
Dave B.: A few things. First of all, you’re never going to hear me use the term “Covenant Path.” I find that term repugnant. It’s borrowed from the church’s strange political bedfellows, the Evangelicals, and has nothing to do with the Mormonism I grew up in. Hard pass.
I’m also not saying there are many “paths” exactly. I’m just saying that how we react to things in life is often dictated by things we don’t understand about ourselves, life patterns formed when we are too young to even remember them. In some ways, it’s the old nature vs. nurture argument. We can change our responses, sometimes, maybe, but most people never figure these things out about themselves. I don’t really think most knowledgeable church leaders would find anything objectionable in that at all. Life is a test. We come into this world with some personality and character traits that are then altered by our experiences. Habits and patterns form, many of which are hard for us to suss out. Those affect how we deal with challenges in life. The degree to which we develop self-awareness improves our ability to choose our response. But ultimately, we are still being tested. Will we rise to the challenges in life, or will we seek excuses for our poor behavior. I think we will be judged based on the degree to which we overcome our baser tendencies and choose to treat people well, but that we get points for difficulty, just like an Olympic gymnast.
Oh, I like that difficulty points idea. I’m using that in my next talk.
Brother Sky: Regarding your second paragraph, creating a home environment in which questions are permitted and enjoyed isn’t a panacea either because what can happen is your kids see that the home environment doesn’t match the church environment at all. The questions they feel free to discuss at home are rejected at church. They may scratch their heads about why their parents stay when they don’t sound like the people at church, but chalk it up to sunk cost or old people being weirdos. There’s an inflection point for young people between adolescence and adulthood, and if they aren’t convinced a mission is right for them (or that not serving is a reasonable alternative) or that BYU is a good fit or that their sexuality is 100% cishetero/straight or that their LDS peers are good marriage prospects or their political views differ from the majority or [insert other life path / identity related choices], they are likely to jump off. One size doesn’t fit all, and that size seems to be increasingly less versatile.
I’m going to as have to ponder this a bit, but my initial reaction is that I give much less credit to parents for how their kids turn out. I always thought my parents were all sorts of awesome, and I’m honestly a bit messed up. Only now, as a middle aged parent, do I realize that my parents may have had their own struggles that could have affected me.
While I ponder that, I’m going to go eat some veggies to try to build the other kind of character.
Angela C:
You’re right, of course. I especially agree about the inflection point and also about the nature of conversations/questions at home vs. at church. And this is the dilemma that frustrates me and my children. They learned early on that home discussions were nothing like the church discussions. They are smart kids and they saw pretty early on that they were getting a sanitized version of various ideas/events at church and they just really unplugged from it, which is why they’ll end up leaving the church in a few years. Truth be told, it is because the size is less and less versatile/flexible that I don’t mind that the kids will be leaving the church. If they can’t find what they’re looking for and if the church can’t provide answers to questions that are important to them (just look at how disastrous it is when the church even tries to do that: see the transcript of the Swedish Rescue discussion), then frankly I’d prefer they go elsewhere, towards an organization or a group of people that they can feel plugged into and that will teach them kindness and compassion.
“Additionally, a parent will often react differently to different children, creating a different result. ”
Yes…I sometimes believe my sister and I had completely different parents when we share reflections on our upbringing…and to add to the complex equation, and with the 4 layers of character development, point#1…each child comes with a different disposition…so the kids may be different and parents treat them different…so even those int he same environment have various experiences and development.
So many variables. I am not sure what models explain situations any more than horoscopes do, to be honest.
Perhaps that is my skepticism and distrust of making sense of any experiences in life, including faith journeys.
While reading your post, I would say I found myself thinking my parents fit more in the #4 Disorganized style, with 7 kids in our family, and several issues my parents were going through themselves (most unknown to me as a kid until I found out later as an adult), I would say I found it hard to feel I could ever please my parents, and that nothing I did was ever right or good enough (it could always be done better). And I have my share of emotional issues as an adult.
But the downstream descriptions did not seem to match. I would say I feel more effects like #2 Dismissive: “ultimately afraid of being wrong, afraid of being dependent on something they now see as unreliable, afraid of opening up emotionally to spiritual experiences … Or they may remain, but develop emotional distance, putting on an acceptable mask, but feeling distant and removed.”
I currently remain in the church. But most sundays I feel distant and removed…and just try to make the most and smile to everyone.
So…does it make more sense to think if my faith crisis is more like #2, then my parents are more like #2, or if my parents are more like #4 am I really more likely #4 and maybe not self-aware?
My gut tells me I just don’t fit the model exactly, as certainly not everyone does.
Which…coincidentally…is how I feel at church. I feel different than how most people say I should feel about obedience to a “covenant path.” I simply don’t buy into what I hear the church leaders claim with strong convictions. I can find the good in their teachings, but don’t trust they know much more than the Dalai Lama, or the Pope, or Eckhart Tolle, or a good person with wise thoughts. Which may sound like I don’t have a testimony…but it isn’t that simple…it is more rooted in distrust there is a simple way to express God’s plan and His love to all circumstances and the billions of souls on the earth. It’s just not simply “Mormon or nothing.”
I feel interested in theories and can appreciate mainstream trends that work for many people, but realize there is not one way or model that fits everyone or explains causes to everyone’s experiences…so it all should be taken with a grain of salt…I should glean what I can from things, but not get hung-up in pigeon holing it to prove it true or false.
There are too many variables to know much of anything, except my experiences and how I choose to process them.
As I said, I have my share of emotional issues as an adult. “Why” they are there is a mystery…and probably unexplainable.
Interesting post – I think about this a lot. I’m a fairly driven person. It’s helped me become financially comfortable and moderately successful. The downside is that I worry a lot and analyze everything. It’s almost impossible for me to relax.
I think it’s because of a combination of factors. I’m LDS (commanded to be perfect), the firstborn son, son of a demanding LDS Bishop, adopted (think fear of rejection and wanting to make everyone happy). I often think that I’d be more happy if I were less anxious and didn’t care so much.
My ‘character’ has very much played a role in my faith crisis. I’m 100% certain that if I had less anxiety or cared about relationships less I’d have left years ago. I don’t know if I’d be happier or not.
hawkgrrl – In your description of the four layers of character development, as presented in the book by Greene, you state that the second layer, earliest attachment years, is about the nature of the relationship we have with our caregiver(s) at our youngest age. I absolutely agree with this in relation to your argument about how these play out in a person with a faith crisis. However, after your description of the four layers, you deviate by listing four types of caregivers rather than four types of relationships. I think this is significant to your argument because the relationship one has with their caregiver is not synonymous with the type of caregiver one has. For example, in a single family with multiple children, the type of caregivers in the family is constant for all the children (they all have the same parent) but the relationship each child has with their caregiver (parent) may vary greatly, depending largely, I suspect, on the first layer of character development you described, genetic predispositions. I see this in my relationship with my own children and in the relationship my siblings and I had with my parents. I see this a lot in other families as well. Same parents, but the relationships aren’t exactly the same.
Brother Sky,
Regarding the Swedish Rescue, do you think it’s possible that the book he was talking about that would “answer everyone’s questions” is the new Saints history? I don’t see how that would resolve many people’s concerns, but I can see how a general authority might think that.
“the type of caregivers in the family is constant for all the children (they all have the same parent) but the relationship each child has with their caregiver (parent) may vary greatly, depending largely, I suspect, on the first layer of character development you described, genetic predispositions.”
I think birth order and time period (ex. were one or both parents working? In school? financial stability? Daycare?) are other important factors.
I was the “oops” child, with a sibling just 1 1/2 yrs older and another one just 2 yrs younger. From some of my earliest memories I felt overlooked by my parents. I can remember hiding in a closet to see if/when my dad would notice I was missing. My mother really wasn’t equipped to cope with young children on an emotional level and has suffered from depression much of her life.
Interesting food for thought. I’ll have to think about how this affects my orientation with my church affiliation. Right now I feel I maintain involvement with the church primarily to not abandon my only still-active child (living in a different state).
“They will expect to be supported and have confidence in their ability to make right decisions.”
As an adult with children who had reached a fairly level and soft landing after a faith crisis, I asked my mother if she had ever worried about me during the early stages of the crisis. My mother responded, “You are big hearted person with a good head on your shoulders, I always knew that you would figure it out.” This vote of confidence in my internal compass and reasoning skills has been hugely empowering for me. I try to provide that same support for my own children.
Are these eternal principles? Or are they descriptive of a contemporary parenting atmosphere?
I raised my children in the 1990’s . We read many books about the subject and found most useful the ones based on cognitive therapy and positive discipline. This might fit the free/autonomous category but not very closely.
I think about how I was raised and my peers. None of these categories fit. I was raised by an extended family with strong influences from functional Great Depression era parents and equally strong influences from grandparents born in the 1890’s (and one generation removed from polygamy.) For example family home evening rotated around a handful of homes at my father’s siblings houses with multiple families meeting. Sunday at grandparents house might see 10 to 20 or even more relatives coming and going all day. Since we lived closest this generated major chores for me and my nuclear family.
I did not have any first cousins at my high school but several older cousins and some aunts/uncles (and dated teachers or the principle) I did have 5 second cousins in my class, one with my same last name and her father (my dad’s cousin ) had the same first and last name as mine but different wives which looked more like a polygamy family than a divorce. But most people knew the truth.Dating and especially kissing second cousins was frowned upon but rarely they did marry. More a problem for my popular brother than me.
My ward had 250 YM/YW, that is over 40 deacons and 40 teachers and 40 priests. The average family had about 6 kids which meant for every family of 3 there was one with 9 children. I knew many of these families and my dad knew some of them across a couple generations. Most of them did not fit any of those categories.Every family had a complex array of strengths and weaknesses among many caregivers and secondary support. In large families, older daughters help raise the younger children and younger children help raise older’sisters children.
I remember a lot of physical discipline especially teenage boys were hit with willow sticks or such. There were firm boundaries and respect. There was rebellion.in some cases.the 1960’s washed over this leaving many parents clueless and teenagers getting into trouble.
Doesn’t seem to fit my experiences in the remote past.
Dylan: That’s how I interpreted it, but I could be wrong. The new Saints history is, IMHO, still miles away from actually answering questions. And the obfuscatory language, like the language I read in the Swedish rescue transcript, is indicative to me that no-one’s got any answers. YMMV.
Mike, you have a marvelous style of writing; vivid! I could see in my mind that ward with 40 Deacons and 40 Priests and so on. My family was not that big but with 6 I became the effective parent in my high school days, getting the younger kids out of bed, cooking breakfast and seeing them off to school before I also went to school, walking a mile or so each way regardless of weather.
I walked to school every day from first grade onward except for a brief period of freeway construction where we had a school bus since the detour was rather lengthy.