I quit attending Church because of a final straw. I had been struggling along for years, telling myself that I was the problem and if I could find my problem and solve it, Church would be a good experience again. Failure. The final straw broke the camel’s back. I quit attending.
If that final straw could be removed, would I go back?
That Poor Camel
Do you see this poor exhausted camel who is going to cry if one more straw lands on him?
That straw is going to land, and it’s going to break the camel’s back, and that’s irreversible. You can’t fix the camel’s injury by removing just that final straw. The only way to help the camel is to remove the entire burden.
A happy camel is one who is entirely unburdened, not one who is carrying the entire burden minus the final straw that caused the irreversible injury.
The Trust Thermocline
The Trust Thermocline is a metaphor about ocean temperatures that is designed to help businesses understand why their customers abandon them all of a sudden.
The temperature thermocline in the ocean is where the water temperature suddenly drops. Ocean water does not gradually go from warm at the top to cold at the bottom in a steady line. There’s a drop-off.
Image source: https://www.marinebio.org/oceans/temperature/
If you’re a business (or Church) whose relationship with your customers depends on trust, the failure of trust works the same way that the ocean goes from warm to freezing. Your customers (members) will give you the benefit of the doubt for a while. They’ll stick with you through some bad experiences. They’ll be loyal up to a point. And then they’re done.
“Stickiness” is for real: a consumer will persist in a bad economic or product relationship beyond the point where it makes logical sense to do so because an element of the trust, and emotional commitment, remains.
But once that thermocline is crossed, there are few routes back. There is no “final straw”—a price cut, a promise to “do better”—that can be reversed to draw them back in, nor was there one that could be avoided. The triggers for each individual are different, but their effect on the group is cumulative.
Trust thermoclines are so dangerous for businesses to cross because there are few ways back once a breach has been made, even if the issue is recognized.
[Source]
Violating someone’s trust works the same way as breaking the camel’s back. The damage is irreversible. You can’t just remove the final straw and have things go back to the way they were just before the final straw landed.
Leaving Church
And that’s why I won’t go back. I didn’t leave the first time things got hard. I didn’t leave because of one offense. I hung in there, reading my scriptures and doubting my doubts. Once the final straw landed, once the ocean got cold, there wasn’t a way to undo the entire burden.
Questions:
- If you’ve already left, and you found out that the Church changed your “final straw” issue, would you go back?
- If you’re still attending, does this metaphor resonate at all? Do you think you have a “final straw” or a “thermocline”?
- Have you seen this principle at work in other relationships? I found a lot of parallels in giving up on my marriage and giving up on the Church. There was an overburdened camel and a thermocline temperature change in my efforts to stay married too.
Wheat & Tares 
This is a great analogy. The thing that the business, or in this case the church, is slow to understand is how things weren’t working BEFORE the thermocline or final straw. The difference was that the customer or churchgoer was still holding onto hope that things would improve. The final straw makes it clear that things will not improve and have been untenable for a while already.
“If you’ve already left, and you found out that the Church changed your “final straw” issue, would you go back?”
I don’t think that I could go back because of a lot of “values mis-match” between my personal moral compass and the church organization (how the church interacts as an entity with the world at large), church doctrine (what the authorized leaders said), and church culture (what those who practice “soft influence” said and did in their interactions with me).
It’s about how the church chooses to spend church money, how the church chooses to protect the hierarchy at the expense of supporting social networks regularly, it’s about how D&C 121 isn’t enough to counter abuse at home and “The Proclamation to the Family” isn’t enough of a foundation to have honest conversations about family priorities and who does what and the actual labor of being a family. What is valued in the local church culture isn’t valued by me anymore, and I choose to honor that culture by no longer being a part of it rather then causing (or perceiving to be causing) discord.
It’s not the final straw if you go back. You are just setting yourself up again for disappointment. Like a marriage, when it’s over, it’s over. You might still end up friends but you can’t stay married.
I have written before here on W&T that, as a church and as members of the church, we do not do a good job of making people’s burdens light, nor the yoke easy. Indeed, by leading with guilt instead of encouragement, we make burdens heavy and yokes hard to bear for our neighbors as well as for ourselves. Our culture is a culture that points the finger and shoots out the lip far too often, criticizing people for not measuring up. I think that serious introspection, at the church, stake, and ward levels, could reveal (if done honestly) how much we find fault with others. Some won’t invite non-member children to their children’s birthday parties. Some will make disparaging remarks about immodesty for an eight year old boy riding a bicycle with a tank top and shorts, because they don’t cover skin that garments will later cover. A couple of months ago one member mentioned to me how short two teen girls’ skirts were at church, and I told this member that we don’t know what deal the parents had to make to get the girls to church–I upset him, because he was gossiping and my job was to agree with him. We wonder (gossip) about what a boy has done wrong when he delays his mission to 21 or 22. We criticize anyone in our classes who says that tithing is anything other than 10% of the gross. We throw proverbial stones at anyone who thinks differently. We can be very loving to those who conform, but we are markedly less loving to those who are different. We obsess with our neighbor’s mote in his eye, ignoring the beam that is in our own eye. This judgmentalism might be the most pervasive and most dangerous illness that permeates the body of our membership, and I don’t see much effort, or enough effort (a judgment on my part, admittedly), to teach how this out not be so.
last line: “to teach how this ought not be so.”
Georgia, there was a study of why people leave the church, and for men it was stuff like history or doctrinal issues. No surprise there. But for women the most commonly listed reason was the judgmental attitude at church. I thought that was very interesting. While for me, it was “blame the victim” when I thought about blaming the victim, isn’t that really just part of the judgmental attitude. The people who do that find it easier to judge the victim rather than help with the fact the victim is hurting. So, although I would not have listed the judgmental attitude as my reason for leaving, that really is the reason at the base.
I would never go back. Just changing my final straw is too little too late. I put up with crap and doubts for years, and when I decided it was never going to be worth the bother, I left.
The other thing that will keep me from ever going back is that once I decided I was out, I felt free to really explore all the doubts I had all along. The more I explored church history and church doctrine, I more problems I found. Things just didn’t add up. There were so many things that were fishy about what Joseph Smith claimed. And the deeper I explored, the more fishy things looked. And pretty soon, I am at the point where I honestly think Joseph Smith collected ideas, cobbled them together into doctrine, and added his doctrine on top of his made up tall tales. People who have done a deep dive into church history will know what I am talking about, and those who have not wouldn’t believe it anyway, so I don’t need to give specific examples.
So, after I left, I deconstructed any “testimony” that might ever take me back.
We have a lot of common phrases as a community like “faith crisis”. Some of these are accurate and some are not. I think for many of us, we never had a faith crisis. We didn’t suddenly become faithless people after reading the Gospel Topics Essays or the CES Letter. We had a “trust crisis” because we no longer believed in the words of the leaders of the COJCOLDS.
When you say that someone is experiencing a faith crisis, you are implying that something is wrong with that person. After all, having faith is seen as a virtue. But when you more accurately describe someone’s trust crisis, the focus is placed back on the other side where it belongs.
Did I wake up one day after 50 years in the Church and suddenly not know how to exercise faith anymore? Or did I encounter information in my 50s that forced me to question the integrity and honesty of a given institution that happens to be in the faith promoting business? See the difference?
This analogy is apt. That graphical abyss of the thermocline illustrates clearly that any version of “going back” is nearly impossible under the current zeitgeist. In all the issues that lead up to the final straw, the Church often pretends that they don’t exist, and when they can’t, seriously downplays/spins them, or in other cases, blames it on you and expects you to suck it up and enjoy it anyway (“stay in the boat”). All of which are forms of gaslighting. So once that final straw lands, and your relationship with the organization is in total freefall, you are feeling the full force of organizational betrayal, which is painful and not easily forgivable, especially if the offending organization has a stated policy of not issuing apologies (thanks DHO) or admitting fault.
I’ve noticed that the church uses a particular phrase about disaffected members. They have “taken offense” instead of saying what it really is: they were hurt or felt a wrongness. Nothing is the church’s fault, of course, it’s always a problem with a member’s attitude.
My “this is not right” straws accumulated until I had to ask myself what do I really believe about what the church preaches? How would an omniscient, loving God want his children to live their lives and treat others? And what he would not condone?
So I quit going.
Now I try to live up to what I believe He would would like to see in me, led by my heart and my head and my conscience. If He’s really there, He’ll help me out.
I agree with it being about trust, still I don’t know how to answer in terms of “left” or “stay”. For me it’s all in the individual details, that occur gradually, on individual issues over time. I do think it’s comparative to boundaries in relationships. For instance, you might trust someone enough to see them in public, but do you allow them into your home, lend them your car, give them your money, tell them your secrets?
As far as it being similar to marriage, you might consider that if you have kids together and then you divorce, then probably you will still talk to each other from time to time. You simply will have different boundaries for yourself as to what you do or do not do in that particular relationship. I am that way with the church in that I retain my own authority over every part of the relationship. I do not give myself over in trust. I have boundaries and allow other people space and freedom to act as they wish and believe as they wish and say what they wish, under their own authority.
For instance, I attend church, but I have given myself permission to leave and go home at any time or not attend if it seems like that’s what I feel is best that day. On a couple occasions in RS I have been uncomfortable with the lesson and stood up and left. I give myself permission to do that any time. I believe in the value of the LDS ward and community, at least in this time and place. I do not believe everything that is said from the pulpit in my ward or in conference. I remain in charge of what I choose to believe ( I have studied all the controversial stuff in terms of a broad overview, and I am still enjoying studying more for finer detail). I have some friends in the congregation that I trust with some information about my life and others I trust with less information.
Currently, I don’t find the church trustworthy with my money. I don’t want to attend worthiness interviews at this point. I don’t mind the temple, but I have so much else to do with my time, I do not miss it at all. If I was invited to visit with the bishop I would ask why, and I may or may not choose to visit with him, and certainly not in the bishop office with him behind the desk. I have known him for years and he calls me by my first name. If he wants to talk with me as a friend I have no objection. I usually accept callings, particularly when they are offered by phone or just by a member of the bishopric informally. I am happy to do things that build community, particularly when I can help make room in our community for people on the margins.
I think many people have poor boundaries. They accept crap from the church and all their relationships until one more straw breaks their back and they cut that person off or leave. I don’t believe in putting up with crap. I will confront you right away if I have a problem with you. I know what I am willing to put up with and what I will not. These days I am that way with the church too. I remain true to myself and I don’t live for anyone else’s comfort. So you do you, and I will do me. The church doesn’t give me opportunities to properly confront them. I believe that is their problem, because they may never find out things I know that could help them improve in following Christ. That’s their problem to work out. I will focus on my own problems, and if they are supportive in things, good. If not, I have never been a person that believes in pretending things are dandy out of loyalty.
This analogy reminded me of one that I heard at church that was supposed to be about the burden of carrying your sins around, like heavy sacks of trash, and that through the atonement you could just set them down. But I remember thinking at the time, what are these sins people are carrying that are so gosh darn heavy? I mean, realistically, are a bunch of normies like the ones you see at church really so wracked with guilt on a regular basis? It didn’t resonate, and it also made me think we are calling a lot of things sins that are just normal human behavior, or at least we are pretending that people are worse than they are.
As a business owner, I know only too well how this works. One of the things we do to try to prevent the loss of customers is to compartmentalize issues. If their team failed them, hopefully their experience with the office staff was positive enough that we can replace the team and restore the trust. But if the team issue isn’t addressed timely or effectively, there’s no going back. You try to keep someone at the company whose hands are clean available to come to the rescue. The church does this too by pinning issues on local leaders, or by local wards being a bastion from the terrible policies from HQ, but in not allowing ward shopping, the church fails on this front. In fact, every time a ward is split or boundaries are redrawn, there’s an exit ramp created. That’s because the church is a corporation, not a small business. The other key difference is that the church is a membership, and when you look around and see that the ones who are left are good-hearted rubes in MAGA hats, you realize they will fall for anything.
” If you’re still attending, does this metaphor resonate at all? Do you think you have a “final straw” or a “thermocline”? ”
I attend sacrament meetings, but not every week. This is a dramatic change from decades of nearly perfect attendance and participation in all three hours. But I’m holding on, there is still something here for me. Maybe. I have experienced several “final straws” in life. In each case, I didn’t see them coming. I hadn’t drawn any lines in the sand. Something just clicked or snapped inside one day and I was done. 100%. No going back, no doubts, no justifications. Over. I think this is the nature of a final straw — you don’t plan on it, you don’t draw an arbitrary line then reconsider. It just happens. And it can be a surprising relief.
“Have you seen this principle at work in other relationships?”
Like you, Janey, this happened to me in a failing marriage. I kept holding on, hoping for positive change, even though my spouse wanted out. Then in one small moment of cruelty from them, it was like I felt the earth shift. I was done. No need to shed a tear, I was no longer sad. Goodbye. I didn’t see that coming. And it was a sweet relief.
When I talk about my exit, I talk about the ‘bag of bricks’ that broke the camel’s back. For me, it wasn’t a small thing. A straw may have done it, but I refuse to call the revelation of what the Church did that warranted the SEC fine ‘a straw.’ No way. That level of dishonesty is something else altogether.
Straw that breaks the camel’s back and thermocline are two metaphors. Here’s another: exit ramps. A lot of LDS are just heading down the freeway on cruise control, oblivious to problems. Exits are irrelevant. But when someone says I don’t like where this road is heading anymore, or even they are just tired of this highway and have had enough, they look for an exit. You pretty much need an exit to get off the freeway.
Maybe it has to be the right exit. Covid was a great exit ramp for some people, kind of like a detour where all traffic is shunted off an exit for a few miles because of a problem down the freeway, then after a few miles on a side road the traffic returns to the main freeway. Well, some people just never got back on the LDS freeway. But less drastically, it might be the “last kid got married in the temple” exit. It might be the “got a new bishop, no thank you” exit. Lots of exits, but timing matters. I think people inclined to leave get the sense they have had enough at some point, then start looking for an exit. It might take a while, even years, for the right exit to appear.
I think the POX reversal clearly illustrates that you don’t get people back because the damage is done.
I used to think I had a line. And the church kept crossing it (POX, muskets, BYU honor code debacle) and I kept going. I guess moving my own goal posts was a thing. Inertia can be hard.
I was like lws329 for a while. The thing is, once I gave myself permission to walk out, I found myself walking out of stuff like 75% of the time and so at that point I realized it just wasn’t worth going anymore.
Very good comparison and applies to friendships that ended and businesses I just will not patronize any more (Wells Fargo, hobby lobby, several airlines). I’m still trying to quit chik fil a unsuccessfully.
I’m current a PIMO and I think the analogy of the thermocline really resonates with me. However, I’ll never be able to take the exit or off ramp, at least not for a long time. My wife is true blue and so I will attend church in my colored shirt and sometimes without a tie. I speak but never quote or reference speakers or ideas I don’t like. (I even expressed my dislike the “covenant path” this last sunday) But ultimately, tithing and time spent to keep my family together is worthwhile to me. So I’ll just keep smiling and waving and be grateful my wife doesn’t force me to have a temple recommend.
I find it interesting how different people’s reasons for leaving can be and how different metaphors describe their different experiences.
For me, I’d compare it more to the Truman Show where Truman experiences all these little clues that his reality is constructed and the people around him are just acting. Even so, he doesn’t discover the truth until he allows himself to confront his fear of the water and sail toward the horizon. When he really allows himself to rebel/escape, he finds the edge of the set. The horizon is a painted wall.
I carried shelf items—cognitive dissonance around LGBTQ issues, patriarchy, science, etc. But I didn’t really experience the final straw so much as I made the decision to no longer be afraid of challenging information. As soon as I made that decision, reading the scriptures was an entirely different experience. When I read the BoM critically for the first time, it practically screamed at me, “I was written by a 19th century American white guy!”
No one could tell Truman anything that would put the genie back in the bottle. The show’s creator even tries. “There’s no more truth out there than there is in the world I created for you. The same lies. The same deceit. But in my world you have nothing to fear.” But he can’t unsee the painted horizon. He steps through a maintenance door into the dark unknown.
I could see myself participating in church again if the conditions were right. But I wouldn’t be able to unsee the painted horizon. I wouldn’t be able to revere Joseph Smith or trust in the supernatural discernment powers of my leaders again. I certainly wouldn’t sustain my leaders in the way they expect me to. I hope for positive change in the church but no amount of change is going to turn them back into seers and revelators for me.
Kirkstall, interesting that under the right conditions, you might be willing to go back. That and some other people’s reasons for attending even when they don’t believe like good Mormons are supposed to believe, got me to thinking about what might change to get me to attend again. And under the right circumstances, I would attend again.
But like other who attend and do it on their terms, I would do it on my terms and I would not be able to believe again like good Mormons are supposed to. It wouldn’t look very different from when I attended before, because I was never an all in believer. I had big doubts about Joseph Smith all along, but I believed in the Savior and just never testified to anything I didn’t believe completely. It wasn’t like I was pretty sure the teachings unique to Joseph Smith were all made up, just that I was unsure if he was a complete fake or a fallen prophet or just a prophet doing a half assed job. I just didn’t know where the line was between the things he taught that I did believe and those that I didn’t. Because I knew polygamy was not of a loving God. So, now, if I went back to attending, I would never bare testimony to anything about Joseph except that he was pretty brilliant in putting ideas together and figuring things out, like Jesus was not praying to himself, so the Trinity is made up doctrine. So, he was really good at “studying it out in his mind.”
So, under what conditions would I attend again? One would be if my husband needed me there, either because he can no longer drive or some other reason. I was willing to listen to the presidential debate the other night just because my husband wanted to hear it, so, I could sit through church. It isn’t near as bad of a “bunch of lies” as what Trump puts out, (kidding, just kidding) so, I could sit through church if he wanted me to. The other condition is if for some reason I decide that I need the community.
One anology I like (that I don’t think has been mentioned here yet) is that of gravity pulling something off a shelf, etc. Like a bag with something in it that was always going to spill, fall over, etc., and all it needed was a little time before the weight simply couldn’t resist the gravity anymore. Nothing new needed to be added; the weight was already there and the building fell down because it couldn’t hold itself up anymore.
I’m with “Someone took my handle”. I had recognized a lack of trust and a disconnect between what we hear in General Conference, and what we would imagine the Savior to be like. That disconnect seems to grow with each year. (Another brick in the bag). Then the questions start coming inwardly like “Will the Savior hold me accountable for parroting things I hear in General Conference that are NOT like Him?”. The more I thought about that accountability to the Savior – was I being sacrilegious by continuing to support an organization that worshiped idols (Prophets, Temples, Temple Recommends)? Would I be held accountable by God for continuing to support an organization that treated those that are “different” in a way the Savior demanded us not to? Those were tough, emotional discussions between me and Him. More bricks.
Then came the SEC charges and fines. The harassment, the intentional lying and deceiving in the name of God, and for the benefit solely of the Church was extremely revealing. All those involved continued to be able to hold Temple Recommends while disparaging those that did not in General Conference messages. Reading the actual verbiage from the SEC investigation was so disturbing – yet it was almost as though it all finally made sense to me.
Easy decision. No internal torment. The Church made the decision for me with their response: No apologies. No admittance of sin. No contrition. Gaslighting. Attempts to place blame elsewhere. The exact opposite of what members are counseled to do when sinning. It was not a last straw – it was much heavier.
I am fascinated by the stories and reasons for either leaving, or staying with nuance. Listening to how people construct and deconstruct their own inner lives and faith teaches me so much. I’ve reread most of the comments in this thread twice. There are so many metaphors; so many paths and journeys. Thanks for such an insightful discussion.
Hmmmmm……I acknowledge that historically I’ve not been the biggest fan of your writings (which I’m sure doesn’t matter one wit to you – which is understandable) but this time, I’ve got to hand it to you – this was really, really well done. My sincere compliments. Long. Slow. Deliberate. Clapping.