Story #2 A Canadian Returned Missionary Writes

It was the summer of 1994, and I was headed out the door again for the job I had come to identify with closely.  It provided an escape from a small town, from my parents, and from the religion which strangely respected not having to attend if I was unable to.  So I packed up my dad’s old canvass Navy laundry bag with clothes, steno pads for writing, and of course my collection of Stephen King novels.  I kissed my mom and headed out the door for another summer on the fishing boats.

We were headed up to the Charlottes that afternoon.  It was a long run which would take 3 days to reach the southern tip of Moresby Island .  I would have my fair share of turns at the helm.  By the time I got my gear unpacked and stowed away I realized that my mom was attempting to convert me while I was away from her.  She had stuck a copy of the Book of Mormon in my bag before I left home.  Either that or she had some strange power of teleporting books which I hadn’t given her credit for.  At any rate, it didn’t matter.  I had plenty of books besides the Good Book Part II to get me through the summer, or so I thought.  

By August I had exhausted my resources.  There was nothing else on the boat that I hadn’t read and it was throwing off my nightly schedule by not reading.  So I finally broke down and cracked open my dad’s old ‘70’s copy of the BoM that was given to him by some missionary who had apparently gotten pretty attached to my family.  It was leather bound, complete with notes and cross-references written in by the Elder.  This book appeared to have some history to it.  That intrigued me.  I wondered at the scrawled notes here and there and what would possess a person to take the time to study it that intensely.  

Sure I had read parts from the book in family scripture study and in church, but this was different somehow.  Maybe it was the absence of pressure to read it.  Maybe it was scurvy, I don’t know.  But I know I was interested and that my interest didn’t stop until I got off the boat.  

It was funny, the skipper, Wil, would say, “Have you come to the part where Jesus tells them where to fish?”  “How about the part where he feeds thousands of people with just a few fish, did you read that yet?”  I felt sorry to tell him that it wasn’t the Bible and that the stories he was referring to weren’t in this book.  He didn’t seem to care and continued on about how those were his favorite parts of the Bible.  I guess he didn’t care too much for the story of Jonah.  That’s the nautical nightmare of every seafaring man; getting thrown overboard in a storm and getting swallowed by a whale.  Personally, I preferred the successful fishing stories in the Bible too.  

For years I would look back on that time of my life and that relationship I had developed with the Book of Mormon as a foundation of my faith in the Mormon Church.  After the summer I moved to Victoria and lived with my aunt and uncle.  I had a car which gave me a little independence, and I felt free to choose what direction I wanted my life to go in.  I decided to investigate the Church a little more.  My reasoning stemmed around a semi-conscious desire to learn more about what had happened to my aloof, carefree attitude towards religion, not to mention the hot girls attending at the time.  I felt I had nothing to lose.   

My Sunday School class was taught by a husband and wife team who used a discussion style format for the lessons.  The classes were always interesting and upbeat with lots of eye candy.  I found myself reasoning things out in my mind and reflecting back on my experiences on the boat.  I began to think for the first time in my life that I had a testimony of the truth here of my own.  It was an exhilarating realization.  I had certainly said that I had known the Book of Mormon was true and that Joseph Smith had translated it by the gift and power of God, and that the Church was led today by a prophet of God.  I had said that and not really had anything to back it up except my parents’ word for it.   

Well, here I was, an independent man.  I had my own car.  I had my own money.  I had my own testimony.  I could do as I pleased with these things.  Life was ahead of me, and the future was bright, albeit uncertain.   

I had received my Patriarchal Blessing when I was 16 years of age.  By this time I was 18.  I had reviewed it regularly as I was instructed to.  I found much of it to be over my head and way off into the future.  But as I studied I found some answers to my questions that were raised by the blessing.  In the blessing it counseled me to be well prepared for the missionary service I would render, exhorting me to know my scriptures well.  I focused on this part of the blessing because it seemed most current and applicable to my situation.   

I had attended a few classes of seminary over the years.  I mean a few classes, not a few semesters.  I had started one year and quit because I got behind on the homework (it was home study).  I just didn’t feel like making up the work, and I really wasn’t getting anything out of it that I hadn’t heard at some time before.  Although my buddy was attending because his mom made him, I thought it was kind of funny that I could go home after 3 hours of church while he had to stay there for 5 hours.  It was something I could tease him about.

Another one of my aunts was teaching seminary while I was living in Victoria and my cousin needed some encouragement to attend.  So we both enrolled and did our best to make it there every morning for that year.  It was difficult sometimes, but it was easier having some responsibility to get someone else there.  The lessons were good and made me think, but I don’t think that’s why I went.  I think it was more about the feeling of support and knowing that I was headed in the direction that my blessing counseled me to go in.

One year passed and my 19^th birthday was approaching.  I had moved in with my aunt who taught seminary and her family.  This was after another summer of fishing and this time saving for a mission rather than a guitar or a car. 

One Sunday the Bishop called me into his office to chat.  I was totally comfortable going in because I knew him well.  I hung out at his house and jammed in his basement with his son and a few other guys.  So the Bishop says, “Have you thought about a mission?”  It was a weird thing for me to hear.  I had always thought I would go on a mission, even when I was far away from the church in my mid-teens.  I had even saved up some money for a mission.  I don’t know what made it sound strange to me.  I guess maybe it was always off in the distance somewhere and I never really had an idea of how fast the time was closing in on me.  It didn’t seem like some impending doom to be avoided.  It was just in the plans, and so my reply seemed to come out almost automatically, “What do I do next?” 

The Bishop and I started filling out my application, and for the next few months that was my focus.  It was kind of nice having done some fishing and put in an extra long summer because I was eligible for unemployment insurance.  UI (now called employment insurance or EI) was the dream of every kid in the small fishing villages in BC.  It meant you got $1200 a month for having worked during the summer (15 weeks) and you didn’t have to pay a dime of it back.  It was a sweet deal.  

So I took my pogie and spent it on shots and clothes and luggage and all the things that a good missionary should have.  I still haven’t used that bath robe I bought.  All well.  At the same time I got out all the confessing I had in me and went to the temple in Seattle to receive my endowments.  This was a special day for me.  I had my parents there along with my aunts, uncles and my grandparents.  My dad guided me through, and in the celestial room it was quite a sight to see all those family members there.  It was symbolic to me of what feelings might exist in the Celestial Kingdom where all of our worthy family will dwell together for eternity. 

I remember bearing my testimony about that experience in a Fast and Testimony Meeting in the Victoria 3^rd Ward.  It seemed like not too long before I was standing at the same pulpit saying thanks and goodbye for 2 years as I headed off for the Iowa , Des Moines mission to preach to Gospel.  There was no temple in that mission so my parents and I went on a temple tour vacation, attending the Seattle , Portland , Bountiful , Salt Lake and Manti temples.  By the time I hit the mission field I had memorized just about word-for-word the endowment session.  Each time there seemed to be something new to consider.  Symbolism is a powerful instructor. 

My confidence was high by the time I entered the Missionary Training Centre and I was made a District Leader of the group of Elders I entered with.  This came as a huge surprise to me because the only thing I had led before was a rock band.  Besides that I was feeling somewhat unworthy even though I had already repented.  The Branch President diagnosed me as having a case of “repentacitice” and told me I didn’t have to bring that stuff up again.  I accepted that and moved on; though I would be haunted by the thoughts of my sins each time I partook of the sacrament and remembered the suffering I caused the Savior to endure.  

Well, my mission time passed and I filled various positions which I feel is irrelevant to mention.  Suffice it to say I didn’t work in the office and I wasn’t an Assistant to the President, though I did receive leadership opportunities.  I completed my mission honorably and returned home to Victoria 24 months later.  I abbreviate this part of the story simply because there is just too much to cover in that 24 month period and I’m sure I will write about it at some future date.  

After my mission I was active in the young men’s program in the 3^rd Ward.  I taught the Priest’s and Teachers Quorums and served as the Teacher’s Quorum Advisor.  I attended Camosun College and worked at a paint store in the summer.  I guess the important details are that I was busy and happy in my activity in the Church.

Eventually I began attending the Young Single Adults Branch in Victoria .  By using the mission mantra, “When the Spirit’s Right, Invite” I roped me a foxy lady for marriage.  We went on our first date in august of 1999 and were married in march of 2000.  It was the pinnacle of existence to now be eligible for exaltation in the highest degree of the Celestial Kingdom , the lack of which I felt a keen awareness of prior to our sealing.  This was one more step towards having my calling and election made sure.

The first 2 years of marriage was a rocky road full of heartache, forgiveness and learning.  I think it was after we reached our 2^nd anniversary that things started to turn around.  We argued less, we spent more time together, and we began trying to have children.  Or rather, we ceased preventing the expansion of our family.

Within a year Jenneka was pregnant.  We were excited and bewildered and bought all kinds of books on the subject.  What made it more exciting was the announcement of Jenneka’s brother that he and his wife were pregnant with their 2^nd child.  Things progressed and we were on course to have the babies within a few weeks of each other. 

Our excitement turned to despair in February of 2002.  We wondered if we were just a little more prepared then God might have allowed things to continue their course.  Maybe if we hadn’t argued so much.  Maybe if we had a more regular family scripture study or family prayers we would have been blessed with the sacred responsibility of parenthood.  

Jenneka & I both served in our respective callings and tried to understand what we were to do concerning children.  Time passed and our emotions became dulled as people would innocently ask when Jenneka was due.  This became somewhat less forgivable as more than a year passed and people still asked.  This was difficult for us and especially for Jenneka, but we continued to attend church every Sunday and serve in our callings.  The saying goes, “The Church is perfect, but the people aren’t.”  So we didn’t take it out on the Church.

A testimony is strengthened by the refining fire of the Master.  The loss of what turned out to be our twins served to fuse our relationship closer to God and removed the mediation of the Church between us and God.  In a way it alienated us from many members because we didn’t want to expose ourselves to the insensitivity.  We realized more and more that all that really mattered was what God thought of us and how we respected Him.

I’ve given an overview of the foundation of my testimony and the experiences that solidified it, but what was it that caused my doubts in the faith that I defended for the majority of my life?  Was I not diligent enough in putting on the armor of God and studying scriptures, serving, praying, fasting, testifying, and whatever else helps to build a testimony?  I’m sure I could have done better in all of these areas.  What member would say that they couldn’t stand improving in any one of these areas?  I will say that I didn’t notice a lack of the Spirit.  I didn’t feel less spiritual than at any other time in my activity in the church.  So what was it?  

I think where it began was a concern that I had for my brother-in-law who had discontinued his attendance due to some concerns with church doctrine and history.  I took my brother-in-law to be a smart guy.  He had a respectable job, he had been a gospel doctrine teacher for a few years, he had served a mission, he had been married in the temple, and I had known him as an active member.  What was he up to?  Why did he believe the stuff that he defended against for so long? 

Out of curiosity and respect I queried him regarding his reasoning.  I was surprised that he had thought about the issues quite clearly.  I don’t know why I was surprised.  I guess I was used to thinking of people who left the Church as being offended or as avoiding disciplinary action against some misdeed.  There didn’t seem to be any ulterior motive for leaving except that he had studied and decided that he didn’t agree. 

As I questioned him I found myself growing agitated and I found it difficult to remain calm and discuss things rationally.  I found that interesting.  In reflecting back on it now I wondered whether my agitation could have been a result of feeling the things I held as sacred being disrespected.  But upon further reflection I recall our conversations being quite civil and full of respect for one another’s beliefs.  I have since come to consider this agitation as the first sparks of cognitive dissonance.  In other words, I could see that his reasoning was sound but it clashed with my currently held beliefs.  Having the two thoughts in my head created disharmony and I felt a natural gravitation toward a resolution of the issues.  

As time went on I decided I would study things out for myself.  I had read the standard works a few times and had memorized several passages of scripture.  I had studied the Institute manuals and General Conference talks.  I had read all the books in the missionary reference library as well as several other miscellaneous Church sanctioned books.  I certainly had questions, but I had been able to reason them out and justify them one way or another.  In thinking back on them today, I would accept a quick answer if it saved my faith.  For example, in learning about the theory of evolution in college and the evidence supporting it I looked at the timelines the scientists came up with and scratched my head.  How could they claim that people crossed the Bering Straight 10,000 years ago?  I thought that Adam wasn’t even on the earth then, right?  I was okay with the dinosaur dating because they came from parts of different planets when the earth was formed.  But the dating of human remains and archeological evidence was always troublesome.  I had read about how some scientists were fooled by a hoax where a man buried a monkey in his backyard and then had the scientists test its age.  They said it was like 7,000 years old or something.  I don’t recall the details at all, but it was enough to shake my doubts.  My conclusion was that the scientists don’t have an accurate method for testing the age of things once they’re dead.  It didn’t seem to bother me that companies and governments would pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into this research and that they had confidence in its accuracy.  The easy answer was the safe answer.  

In looking back on these times of doubt while I was an active, believing member of the church, I find that there were only a few justifications that I would use to rationalize the doctrines of the church.  The first and most fundamental one was that I had a spiritual witness of the truth and nothing could change the truth of that.  It didn’t matter what physical evidence you showed me.  Facts change in time, but a witness from God was sure.   

Another defense was that we just weren’t meant to know the truth about a particular thing at this time.  If God wanted us to know about it, he would reveal it to his servants the prophets.  In other words, if the prophet or the apostles didn’t say it, then I should approach with caution because it might not be true.  That’s not to say it was false if it didn’t come through the proper authorized channels.  It’s just that one couldn’t be certain about it like they were certain about a spiritual witness. 

I think one of the sub-conscious defenses I experienced was instilled while I was very young, and that was that you don’t disagree with the Lord’s anointed leaders.  If they are wrong and you follow them, God will justify you.  The disclaimer is that the leaders are mortal and are prone to make errors, even in prophecy.  But if they were to attempt to lead the membership astray, God would remove them from their post and place another in his stead.  If a leader was or is wrong, you don’t need to focus on it.  You especially shouldn’t speak out about it and expose the error because that is the high road to apostasy.  No, whether the leaders were right or wrong, you just followed them.  Certainly, ask for a witness of the truth of what they are saying, but it will only serve to strengthen your resolve that they are doing what’s right, thereby increasing your motivation to serve and obey.

There are other defenses, but I think the main ones have been covered.  Allow me summarize them so it is clear.  First, a spiritual witness is more valuable than physical evidence.  Second, God only reveals what he intends for us to know, and he reveals it through his prophets.  Third, do not disagree with or disobey the Brethren and you will be safe from Satan. 

So in getting back to my study after considering the plight of my brother-in-law, I began to find things in the standard church stuff I had read before.  Why was I able to now think critically of what the church was promoting?  Didn’t that violate defense #3?  Yes it most certainly did, but I HAD to resolve the questions.  It was not a casual study.  I felt driven to KNOW one way or the other.  

Immediately I found that the more I read an argument for one side, the other side would diminish and I would begin to wonder at why I even questioned in the first place.  Then I would switch sides and study the stuff against and would feel the same pull.  Whichever side I studied I felt drawn towards.  That’s when I stopped and figured out what my psychological barriers were to discerning truth.  How could I be so easily swayed?  I discovered that it was because of the principle of cognitive dissonance.  So I placed myself on a well-balanced diet of study materials.  

I also realized that what I had been taught from childhood would have a stronger voice to me than new, conflicting views would.  There are a dozen other principles I considered in trying to get myself into a place where I could objectively consider the issues without wondering if I was being swayed or pressured by one side or the other.

While it was extremely difficult to maintain a balance on the fence, I attempted to remain there for around 3 months as I spent entire days studying and nothing else.  I was totally driven and obsessed with finding the answers I needed.  I purposely didn’t consult anyone for long periods of time so that I was reasonably certain it was just me and my understanding of the authors I was reading.

I think the first thing I realized was that with the absence of evidence supporting the Book of Mormon geography and the trend toward the “limited geography” theory among the church scholars, and in reading about Joseph Smith’s beliefs regarding the Lamanites and the Indians in the Mid-Western States, there is a HUGE disparity.  How do you reconcile all of that?  The scholars have followed the limited geography theory for a reason.  They’re trying to make sense of it themselves.  The problem is, they have salvaged a possible theory that undermines the whole point of the book’s existence.  It discredits Joseph Smith as a prophet because in BH Roberts’ history of the church Joseph was clearly convinced that the Indians living in his region were the Lamanites.  A possible defense for this problem is that the Lamanites who lived in a small area of Central America eventually spread to the northern United States after the closing of the Book of Mormon record.  This is possible except how do you account for the location of the Hill Cumorah?  The limited geography theory suggests that all of the Book of Mormon events occurred in a small area, including the burying of the records.

The other problem with the supposed “history” of the Lamanites is the DNA record.  If the Lamanites did in fact spread throughout North America so that the Indians that Joseph told were the descendants of the Lamanites, then the DNA record should link those northern Indians with Israelite DNA.  It doesn’t.  The scenario just doesn’t work.

From that point on, I think I chose which side of the fence to stand.  This whole process was very difficult for me.  Having been sealed in the temple for time and all eternity, and having been raised in the church and my whole family believing in it has made it extremely difficult emotionally and psychologically to leave.  I think I’m spiritually wounded because I no longer know what to believe. 

What I believe now is transitory and not absolute.  The rest of the details are irrelevant, though I would like to fill them in eventually.  This is my anti-testimony, for what it’s worth.  I do not believe that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God.  I do not believe he was inspired of God.  I believe he seized an opportunity that was presented to him. 

I do not believe that the spiritual experiences I have had should be interpreted in the way that I have interpreted them.  I have made far too many assumptions based upon someone else’s perception of reality.  I do acknowledge having experienced something which seemed real to me.  I have come to realize that these feelings, the very same feelings which I interpreted to be the Spirit can be felt when living in opposition to the teachings of the Mormon Church.  I feel them now just as often as I did while I was active.

As a result of my stance on Joseph’s divine calling, I no longer believe that the church is God’s only true and living church.  I do not believe the prophet receives as much direction from God as I once thought.  I don’t discredit his right to inspiration, but I do not trust him any more than I trust myself.  I see us as standing on equal ground before God and I will not place my inspiration in subordination to his.

I do believe that all people have the right to equal treatment.  I believe that we all have a fundamental connection between us; even more fundamental than spirit brothers and sisters.  We share the same energy, the same elements, molecules, atoms and likeness.  I don’t know what the implications of this are yet, but I believe in the oneness of humanity.  Next question, Do I believe in God?  Yes.  I don’t know what his attributes, character or form is, or even if we’re created in his image.  I just don’t know.  It’s not difficult to see what I don’t know any longer when you examine the contributions of Joseph Smith to the theology of the church.  Once he is no longer viewed as a conduit to the heavens for messages from God, there is so very much that becomes uncertain once again.

It is a difficult life outside of the church, there’s no doubt about it.  There are no easy answers.  There is no calm assurance that what you believe is the truth.  What there is is a fellowship of humankind striving to understand.  There is goodness outside of the church.  There is understanding of suffering and despair, of happiness and joy.  There is a bond of love and acceptance of all which cannot be felt in the church.  There is no gravitation to pull everyone towards the light because there is a little light in everyone.  There is peace, but not the same peace.  There is love, but not the same love.  Yes it is hard, but it is more human.  I choose truth over comfort and family and bonds of fellowship.  I choose God over church and tradition.  I choose freedom of thought over subservience to think within narrow parameters.  I choose a life outside of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Story #3 A Young Mother of 5 Writes from Australia

I have procrastinated the day of my written disclosure – because I was not ready to express the fullness of the catharsis I have experienced.  The day is nigh at hand hehe!, and I hope to do it some justice, but I felt that just sharing some of my journal entries may lead the way. 

As an intro:

It was a beautiful New Years Eve “Gold and Green Ball” that my parents were enjoying, when they had to leave the celebrations and be police escorted (followed by two excited uncles) to the nearest maternity ward, where I was born at 1:03 am- first in Sydney that year –silver cup and newspaper articles.  Rebecca Eve, first child of committed mormons, eldest and second eldest granddaughter of4 faithful grandparents, and even one great grandmother.

The first diary entry I will use is from Wednesday 21 March 2001.  I was 29 years old, married for 10 years and have recently born my 5^th child.

“Jeremy is growing well and we are all enjoying his company so much. From 23 Feb he showed slight signs of a smile and then on 3 March he was smiling so big and wide and goo and gaa’ing –Mathew and I were loving it! He is soo adorable!  I’ve noticed how much he enjoys being with his brothers and sisters, and they often settle him by rocking him in his little cradle in the lounge room.  

There is a bit of a ‘cold war’ between my parents and I at the moment, which is quite unfortunate but I actually hope that it will just be part of a process of growth and change for the better in our relationship.  There have been many incidents that have brought us here (such as: not so long ago when my mother stormed through my house hailing harsh criticisms and judgements at me, to the point where –though crying and asking her to stop and then to go, I had to shout that I would call the police and ordered her out.  I had nightmares after that for a while, ‘knowing’ that if she died, she would be a manevolant spirit in my life.)

It began when mum told me that she and dad decided that a brother was not welcome in “THEIR HOME” while ever he has drugs in his life.   

I thought that this was just a blatant attempt of my parents to exercise power over his life, and over his relationships with his siblings.  It was not fair, or justifiable because this brother had had never actually done anything at their place anyhow.           

I also didn’t like to be told by my parents all of the gossip about what they perceive to be seriously wrong in my siblings lives.  

In any case, I felt that if this brother was “banned from their home” because he does something “wrong”, then I was not interested in going to my parents home anymore.  And really, could anyone be worthily ‘admitted’ to their home (even themselves) because we have all “sinned and fallen short”. 

I ended up talking about this with Dad and mentioned as a comprison, how uncomfortable I feel going to their place when they have stolen property on their land (Council & Olympics signs worth thousands of dollars; my husband is in law enforcement), it was a tangible example of their own hypocrisy in keeping the commandments.  This was seen as a non issue.

Most significantly, another part of their excuse to exclude him, is that they felt my brother was a bad influence on the other children (I am eldest of 12, this brother eldest of 8).  I argued that this would not be a factor whatsoever if mum and dad had not been continuously bitching, telling the children all about what they see as the negative aspects of him. It was the gossiping and negative judgements that made it difficult for the younger kids, leading to their disrespect of my brother, and of his family’s home (eg. breaking into my brother’s house and emptying alcoholic drinks) Meanwhile he was pushed away with self-righteous contempt, when all he needed was some care and understanding.”

Wednesday 31 October 2001

“There have been some ridiculous family dramas (mum) which make me feel even more positive about our move away.  One has only a finite amount of emotional energy –the best of which should be available to ones own immediate areas of responsibility.  For so many years I took on the emotionally draining dramas of someone elses –I know from experience it is destructive and does not help anyone if you are as upset as they are, especially since they are the only person who can do anything to overcome or improve the situation (if it is their problem, only they can fix it).  No point wasting all energy and stressing so much that there is nothing left for one’s own family!  I wish mum could see this, and also see the best in others.”

26 March 2002

“A few months back Mathew and I shared some of our doubts about the church with each other, and since then I have run many scenarios through my head.  I’m not sure what will happen in the end, but we will make the best choice we can.  At the moment I’m not sure everything I believe, I am sure that I believe all people have their own journey to make in this life.  This is really a contradiction to the beliefs of the gospel.  It’s not right to teach people that they have to be perfect all the time, or appear to be. Overnight I realised that I believe that religion is not true.  It is so full of doublespeak, and there is not one person there that I would wish to emulate.  People should be celebrated for who they are, not chopped and twisted into holes that suit a manmade corporation, even if the fantasies therein are beautiful at times. It terrified me.”

12 Febuary 2003

Our approach when informing our parents and grandparents of our choice to leave the church went something like this,, “We love you very much, and we want to thank you for all of the great things that you have taught us and that we have enjoyed through our involvement in the church.  We have to tell you though, that we no longer believe the church is true, so we have given a letter to the Bishop to remove our names.  We know this may be hard for you, but we hope you will understand that it is a choice that we have to make to be true to ourselves.”   

“Left the Church last weekend & currently in the process of telling close family members.  A bit tough.  Just wanted to write some of my thoughts and beliefs:                        

If you believe something enough, it’s true (for you)

-we knew this but decided it would be stupidity to force ourselves to believe something that we don’t believe,

-spirituality can be found and developed by each individual on their own journey through life and comes from within a person –according to their own needs, knowledge and abilities.

1 July 2003

“The past few months have been incredibly challenging on the whole.  I studied 3 subjects last semester and stressed but got HDs for all.  Jacob has changed schools.  We decided to move to Sydney at the end of the year.

I feel like my mind’s mushy – there is so much information that I pour in everyday that Im incapable of using it effectively, though I relish the rare times when I can discuss some of it with someone.  My life has a huge gouge of about 15 years out of it I think.  There’s a lot of pain in that. Mathew doesn’t understand it. I feel so trapped sometimes.  

I wish I had explained in this journal last year what it was like for me to face the fact that the Church was not true.  I had such waking nightmares.  Fears of death and eternity and meaning until I decided that if death was the end it would not matter to me when I’m there – so why worry now? Just enjoy life now, and the best way to do that, I thought was to live the best way I believed.

I ran through all of the scenarios of talking with family and leaving the church – letting people down – the cognitive dissonance was so great that I wanted to leave immediately.  But Mathew wasn’t ready, so I continued to go, thinking maybe I could justify it in several ways –then I decided it wasn’t worth it, and we left as a family.  I am so glad to NOT be going. But there are a lot of issues to deal with, so much I’ve wanted to understand better.  It has been wonderful, but I also feel incredibly alone, so does Mathew.

March 2004

Last yr when telling the parents, I decided not to broach the subject with my younger siblings, because I thought that mum and dad and they may think I was trying to ‘convert’ them, if I tried to help them understand why I was leaving.  I gave my parents the benefit of the doubt. Would they keep my name safe in their home?. HaHa! Ultimate, naïve stupidity.  

A younger sister responds to my chirpy “Have a great day! J xox” sms with the following in succession:

“How when one sees the perfect structure of a rose can they question how truly exquisite life is. Love ya. …

“Good morning bec, I just wanted to say that if my reply hinted that our relationship as sisters is ok I am sorry 4 severely misguiding you.  I wish Rebecca that things could be as they were but they are not.  A few years ago I could not have comprehended that you would ever desert all that you know to be true and believed of your own free will, I always admired you and looked so firmly up to you. I don’t know who u r. I know the world you are in and I never want to nor ever will become involved with the deceptions of freedom and logic that is so far removed from them both. I don’t know you anymore & I doubt very much that in knowing your current situation I would think otherwise, this subject I have tried for the past 6 months to forget completely.  It’s a lot easier to forget ones situation than let it bring u down into the depths of darkness and depression.  By this I wish to forget you until you..”   

Another sister: “I don’t like what you’re saying to (sister) she’s my best friend . just upset you threw everything you believe down the drain.  I hope you understand.”  

This is where I realize I need to clarify my position ie. I do not believe the church is true, in fact I believe the church is Not true, therefore I did not throw everything I believe down the drain.

Yet another sister: “Leave my sisters alone! Leave my family alone and stop trying to convince us of all your weird psychological dysfunctions.  Its time you knew that we are masters of our own minds and mum does not dictate what we are to think and feel.  We are united against anything that tries to tear us apart even if it’s a sibling. We will not cower in the face of opposition.

I express sympathy for them

“You need sympathy more than any of us.  You delight in bringing people lower than yourself.  You are too weak to even try so you make up some sad excuse like you don’t believe it anymore.  I pity you Rebecca. You chose to fail without really trying.  That is the saddest type of loser there is.  Oh and have you ever stood up for mum or have you always tried to undermine her authority?

Brother who I sent the previous msg to: “Who’s the ignorant one this time? Funny how quick to hate they are who proclaim to love.. what a lie,, nay joke.”  

Sister: “I love my life.  I have an awesome husband, a precious son, a lovely home, we’re well off and we are in the church.  All because of ongoing choices I am so happy. Are you happy? Honestly? There is no lasting happiness in rebellion.  Freedom? Do your kids get any freedom? Becki hard stuff happens.  You can either handle it or run away.  One makes a winner and the other a loser. I love u. I just am sick of your more enlightened crap. Stop the worldly rot go to church!  

My big sister used to be cool. She helped me through times when I had no friends at church. She helped me with my personal progress.  She used to love to serve.  She used to be so happy.  That sister has been taken by someone who creates contention.  I looked up to u once and I know I could again but not now.  We could help you get your life back on track if you were humble enough, but Im not going to sit around while you dog this awesome family that you have. You may have had tough times but why abandon everything that is good and choose that which is seedy.  Im no parrot. But you are. By following this sad world where does it lead? Are you really happy? “

Life has been an incredible rollercoaster of activity and achievement, enjoyment and education for us since we left the church.  I have met so many great people, outdone myself at university, worked some interesting and challenging jobs - currently for the largest industry rep organisation in the country, with the National Executive in an advisory role, that I have just managed to bring back to part time.  There have been less formal family home evenings, but stax of cuddles and talks, games and adventures, fishing, swimming, surfing, climbing, camping, visiting grandparents etc etc. I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I know who my friends are, my husband # 1.

One of the hardest lessons, was to realise how little my family - who taught me that family comes first – cared for me and mine.  They actually wished and prayed for “something to happen” in my family so that we could return to the ‘gospel’ – if someone became very sick and died for example, it would all be worthwhile.  

These are not healthy people to have in your life.  I am sorry for them, to work so hard for something that is so divisive for a family- it sets people up for disappointment.  To not be capable of seeing the good in another person - even your own children. That is the Great Plan of Unhappiness.

There is no question about finding joy in life every day! We are a long time dead ;-)

Life Love Laughter

Rebecca Eve

Bec_eve1@bigpond.net.au

Story #4 The Psychological Impact of Mormonism - An Outsider Looks In

Lucy Miller, August 2005

I am not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints; never have been, never will be, and don't want to be. As a matter of fact, until I met my husband two years ago, I don't recall ever knowing anyone who professed to be a Mormon, although I suppose I unwittingly ran across at least one or two in my travels. Mormonism is fairly rare in my home state of Kentucky. I happen to live in Louisville which is the home of not only the international Presbyterian headquarters and seminary, but also the main (and most conservative) seminary for the Southern Baptist Church. I would imagine that LDS members try to keep a fairly low profile 'round these parts for rather obvious reasons.

I became interested in Mormonism because I met and then married a wonderful man who was (emphasis on past tense here) a bone fide TBM or "true believing Mormon". During his 40 year tenure as a Mormon, Jim held many important callings including serving in the Bishopric, as the Elder's Quorum President and Counselor in several wards, and was a Temple Officiator. By the time I met Jim he had already been pretty much chewed up and spit out by life in general and the LDS church in particular. At the age of 48 he had survived an abusive childhood in a Mormon family, a horrific 22 year marriage to a Mormon woman with severe and chronic mental illness, and raised three kids in the Mormon Church. He mercifully escaped that first marriage thru divorce, suffered a bankruptcy because of it, then fell victim to a predatory and narcissistic "femme fatale" 20 years his junior who repaid his love and devotion by rather predictably (to everyone but Jim) leaving him for another (married) man. Add to this the death of a parent, a major surgery, several interstate moves and job changes, and you have the makings of one seriously beat-up individual. When I met Jim, he was just starting to pull out of a major depressive episode that had left him at the brink of suicide, thanks to the help of a skilled therapist (a Mormon herself) and due in no small measure to Jim's amazing intelligence, determination, and resiliency.

Over the last year and a half, I have spent many hours talking with Jim about his life experiences and his religious beliefs. Jim wanted me to learn about the Mormon faith so that I could better understand who he was and where he came from, so I began reading books and online materials. I knew absolutely NOTHING about the LDS church when I began and I really did not have any pre-conceived notions about Mormonism that I am aware of. I have no religious affiliation myself and never was someone who could work up any lasting belief in a God. Quite honestly, I suppose I am an atheist. I never have liked referring to myself in this manner since it seems to come with so much negative imagery. I never really considered myself to be "anti-religious (meaning opposed to religious belief), just "a-religious" (meaning without religious faith). Unfortunately, I found that in this case, familiarity really did breed contempt - the more I learned about the Mormon faith, the more I developed a distinct and undeniable revulsion for it.

Before I go any further, let me explain that I am by NO means a scholar of Mormon history, doctrine or theology. I have no pretensions or illusions about my understanding of the ins and outs of the Mormon interpretations of the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, or any other LDS scripture. I have read page after page of arguments back and forth, pro and con, about the truth (or lack thereof) in Mormon history and doctrine. Quite frankly, I am just not interested in all of that. As far as I am concerned, Mormon dogma is no more or less true, unlikely, or unbelievable than that of any other religion - all are equally suspect in my view. What I am interested in is the psychological impact of Mormonism as a belief system. I am interested in the effect that believing and practicing this religion has upon people's thoughts, behaviors, and overall emotional well-being. Specifically, I wanted to understand what had happened to my dear husband.

I am also not a psychologist, a psychiatrist, a licensed clinical social worker or therapist of any sort. I do have a BS in Psychology (of the behavioral, BF Skinner rats in the Skinner box type) and I am a professional is the field of vocational rehabilitation for adults with disabilities. I also happen to have strong empathic response - I am good at understanding people, how they feel, and why they do things. What you will read here is not based upon objective or rigorous scientific study. This document merely summarizes conclusions that I have come to based upon my own first hand observations, personal research and thoughtful analysis. This really is a case study of how belief in Mormonism affected one man's life and psyche. The following narrative describes the manner in which the Mormon belief system caused psychological damage to my husband - damage that he is still in the process of recovering from and that still causes him pain.

Toxic Doctrine Six Mormon Beliefs that Cause Psychological Damage

1. Striving for Perfection

One of the first things I came to understand about Mormon doctrine was the belief that the ultimate goal of human achievement on this earth and for eternity in the spirit world is "perfection". Not just goodness, not just living up to your potential, not just being the best you can be, but pure unadulterated perfection. Wow. Of course, the problem with having this as a goal is that it is by definition unattainable. Nothing in the physical universe is "perfect" - everything in nature has flaws or imperfections. Perfection is an abstract concept like infinity. It has no practical meaning - it cannot be conceptualized in terms of real human experience.

When perfection is the goal, the end result is and always will be failure. Holding perfection as the standard of thought and action, means that you can NEVER measure up. Nothing you do will ever be good enough, no matter what it is. Every little mistake, every minute oversight, every perceived misstep weighs heavily on the mind of a person who demands perfection of themselves. The guilt of being imperfect leads to an incessant cycle of confession, repentance and atonement. While the intent of this belief may be to motivate people to reach higher and achieve more, it also creates feelings of bitter disappointment and self-recrimination. For my husband, the relentless striving for perfection caused terrible damage to his already brittle self-esteem. This constant "failure" to achieve an impossible goal made him feel worthless as a Mormon, a man, and a human being. Over time, these feelings of worthlessness become deeply entrenched and a pattern of self-loathing emerges. This is a heartbreaking theme that I heard repeated over and over again when reading the stories of other disenchanted (depressed) current and former LDS members. This is really poisonous stuff.

2. Worshiping Idealized Marriage and Family

Perhaps the one thing that most Americans know about Mormonism is the emphasis it places on traditional marriage and family. Hey, don't ever say the Osmond family did not leave a lasting legacy! As I learned more about Mormonism, I realized that this faith does not just value marriage & family - it WORSHIPS these institutions in an idealized form! This worship includes the doctrine of "sealing" family members together for eternity, the belief that Mormon husbands and wives can become exalted Heavenly parents of spirit children, and that the highest level of salvation (the Celestial Kingdom) can only be attained by sealed couples. These are just a few of many, many examples. The LDS church also describes its perfect model of marriage and family in numerous writings such as the Proclamation of the Family. The Mormon Church is crystal clear about how marriage and family should be and the roles and responsibilities of each member. This worship of marriage and family is based upon highly idealized characterizations of these institutions, very similar to romantic ideals in vogue during the Victorian era. Unfortunately, few marriages or family units even come close to this sentimental vision of perfect domestic bliss, tranquility, and unconditional nurturing love.

So, what possible harm could come from worshiping family and marriage - it all sounds so wholesomely innocuous? Well, what happens if you choose a less than perfect mate - say someone who is severely mentally ill, physically or emotionally abusive, homosexual, or heaven forbid, a pedophile who molests your children? Marriage is supposed to be a perfect union and divorce still carries a stigma in the Mormon faith. A divorced man cannot hold a leadership position in the Mormon Church, regardless of what circumstances led to that divorce. The peer pressure within Mormonism to demonstrate success in marriage and family is extreme. A tremendous amount of energy goes into keeping up the appearance of being the "perfect" Mormon family - another theme reiterated in case after case I read. One of the most repeated sayings in the Mormon Church is "No other success can compensate for failure in the home". So, no matter how great you are in other life domains, if your marriage or family life is less than perfect, you are a failure - period! If you make the mistake of choosing poorly in marriage, you don't have too many options if you're a TBM like my husband was. You just hang in there as best you can and beat yourself up every minute of every day about what a lousy person you must be. The long term effect of this on a person's self-image is utterly devastating.

On another note, let me just say that the Mormon Church is undeniably and unashamedly patriarchal. I could write a whole treatise about the negative psychological impact this male domination has upon Mormon women, but that is not the subject at hand. What amazes me is that no one seems to consider what harm this system does to men. In the hyper-traditional version of the family espoused by LDS prophets and elders, the husband is the head of the household and he is ultimately responsible for the success of this family unit. "By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families." (from The Family: A Proclamation to the World. This proclamation was read by President Gordon B. Hinckley as part of his message at the General Relief Society Meeting held September 23, 1995, in Salt Lake City, Utah).

While the wife is supposedly equal, she is consistently described as fulfilling a subordinate "helpmeet" (assistant) role. While men have most (if not all) of the power in the LDS church, they also are burdened with a disproportionate share of responsibility for supporting the family financially and making things right in every other way. The flip side of this coin is that men bear the lion's share of BLAME when things go wrong. While you will never see this fact officially confirmed in writing by church leadership, this is the practical and logical result of the patriarchal family system which focuses on man as leader, provider and protector. In the end analysis, it is the husband who is primarily at fault when the marriage and family go poorly. It took me a long time to really understand this effect. I didn't make the full connection until one of my husband's adult children tried to blame the problems in her life on the fact that he was an "imperfect" (i.e.: insufficiently "righteous") father. Being a good Mormon with a seriously over-developed sense of guilt, my husband internalized that blame for a long time and felt at fault for his child's troubles and unhappiness.

3. The Importance of Obedience

As I read the writings of Mormon prophets past and present I was completely thunderstruck by the number of times I read that one word - obedience. I was raised as a Presbyterian, although I have no belief in that faith now, but I don't ever recall that word being used. Mormons seem rather obsessed with obedience - the act of subjecting oneself to a higher authority (God or Prophet) and doing whatever that authority commands without question. There is a tremendous value placed upon humility, blind acceptance, and abject submission. Again and I again I found reference to the "blessings" bestowed upon the obedient while those who failed to obey were destined for apostasy and suffering.

My husband is an exceptionally intelligent man. He has a facile and analytical mind and is able to make astounding leaps of logic when solving complex problems. He is highly educated and has held top management positions in major corporations for most of his professional life. What he is NOT good at is blind acceptance of concepts that do not make sense, do not fit together logically, or which are inconsistent with observable reality. He is not a person who can tolerate cognitive dissonance for any length of time and he is not skilled at compartmentalizing his values or beliefs. This creates a big problem if you are a TBM. Mormons are expected to obey church doctrine without question or discussion. As is often quoted - "When the Prophet speaks the debate is over"(N. Eldon Tanner, August Ensign 1979, pages 2-3). If you do have doubts or misgivings, then there must be something the matter with you. If you were a faithful (i.e.: "righteous") Mormon you would accept and submit. The process of trying to force yourself to believe something that feels wrong - that common sense tells you is wrong - is painful. Over time, the only way you can deal with this and remain true to your faith is to convince yourself that your feelings are misguided, insane or just plain bad. These bad thoughts and feelings must be controlled, suppressed and eliminated. If you are unable to make this happen (I presume through prayer, fasting, and repentance), you will surely suffer dire consequences. This presents yet another opportunity for self-recrimination and further wounds one's sense of self-worth. 4. Living in the Bee Hive

Mormonism, I soon discovered, is far more than merely a religious belief system - it is an all encompassing way of life. The manner in which the LDS Church embeds itself in every aspect of its member's lives is incredible. It is no surprise to me that the Mormon Church has adopted the bee as an enduring symbol for itself. This analogy is extremely apt since the LDS Church functions very much like a bee hive: It is highly organized around a single powerful leader, roles and responsibilities of each member are clearly defined and enforced, existence is centered around work and duty, and members are focused solely on perpetuating the hive. Individuals have no purpose and cannot survive outside of the colony.

The hive mentality is created and sustained by having members focus inward in every major life domain. Marriage and family life is focused on the church with practices such sealing and family home evening. Leisure time is focused on the church through the many recreational activities and events sponsored by the local ward or stake. Worship or church work takes up a great deal of time - at least 3 hours each Sunday plus innumerable hours each week spent on various "callings", performing home teaching or visiting teaching, relief society work (for women) or church leadership work (for men). Over time, Mormons find themselves constantly engaged in activities that revolve around the Church. With the exception of outside employment, relationships with non-Mormons are minimized. Church leadership encourages members to spend any remaining time in studying the scripture, church history, performing genealogy work, or engaging other forms of "self improvement". Very quickly the member is completely immersed in everything Mormon to the exclusion of almost anything else. The Church slowly but surely wraps itself around its members till they are literally bound to it in every conceivable way.

Of course, this process of immersion is quite planful and serves a supremely useful purpose. The more completely an individual is assimilated into the hive, the more difficult it is for that individual to extricate him/herself. Human beings are innately social creatures. The lure of the hive is powerful - especially for people who are lonely, disconnected, depressed or suffering emotional distress. People need to feel that they "belong". The problem with living in the Mormon hive is that members pay a heavy price for that sense of belonging. The down side to living in the hive includes loss of individual identify and sense of self, relentless pressure to conform and obey, pervasive feelings of guilt and shame for perceived transgressions, and constant fear of being rejected or ostracized. The hive is the ultimate model of pure social control and it is used very effectively within Mormonism. Long time residents of the hive become increasingly unable to think for themselves and increasingly dependent upon the hive. Eventually, the mere thought of leaving the colony becomes intolerable. The hive mentality is what allows the Mormon forms of punishment such as disfellowship, excommunication and other shunning techniques to act as salient deterrents to disobedience.

I believe that the seduction of the hive played a powerful role in my husband's conversion to Mormonism when he was eight years old. He came from a family with a physically abusive father and a submissive, emotionally distant Mother. He was a shy boy with few friends who was very bright and deeply sensitive. He yearned for connection, belonging, love and that ideal nurturing family so often touted by the Mormon missionaries. Unfortunately, what he found as he grew older was that the Mormon church offered community without connection. The social bonds of Mormonism slowly developed into a form of bondage. The fear and pain caused by separating from the LDS church is another common theme expressed by former Mormons. Leaving the church is much like recovery from addition - it can be accompanied by overwhelming feelings of emptiness, isolation, confusion, loneliness, and despair.

5. IN the world, but not but not OF the world

The Mormon faith espouses the notion that the secular world is a pretty rotten place and getting worse all the time. Mormonism seems to be based upon the belief that human nature is fundamentally sinful and depraved and that members need to insulate and protect themselves and their families from the larger world of "evil-doers" (i.e.: non-Mormons). In this cosmic view, the entire universe becomes separated into black and white, saints and gentiles, good and evil. Members are essentially trained to de-legitimize all the joy in the world that is un-related to being Mormon. Mormons may be physically located on this planet, but they are expected to rise above the tawdry conditions of humanity by seeking spiritual perfection.

There is another manifestation of being IN the world but not OF it. Mormons are obsessed with demonstrating self-sacrifice, denial, and self-control. This is seen in the dietary restrictions imposed by the Word of Wisdom, the importance placed on chastity (including all forms of self-gratification), mandatory tithing, and strict avoidance of debt. Mormons explain these practices as sacrificing on earth to receive blessings in heaven. In my mind, they are best described as delayed gratification on steroids. This emphasis on extreme sacrifice makes sense when you view your time on earth as a constant "test" designed by God to be "endured to the end" so that eternal salvation can be achieved. Life on earth has little intrinsic value within this belief system - it is not something to treasure and enjoy. There is no stopping to smell the roses. It is all about grim determination, sacrifice, controlling human impulses, obedience, and that eternal striving for spiritual perfection.

The long term effect of this belief is surely evident to any reasonable person. For my husband, it meant he felt an extreme obligation to tolerate pure hell on this earth, pushing himself harder and harder to be more perfect and less human. If he was not experiencing blessings on this earth, it simply meant he was not trying hard enough - he was not righteous enough, not pure enough, not a good enough Mormon. He was told time and time again that God would not cause him to suffer more than he could handle. The test of his life could be passed, if only he followed the teachings of the Church. He tried to find comfort in the belief that all would be rewarded in the next life, but as he became more and more demoralized and depressed, that next life looked further and further away. At some point, a rational person has to stop this madness. Either you lose yourself or you lose your beliefs.

7. Milk before Meat

Perhaps the most insidious practice I encountered in my study of the Mormon faith is something commonly referred to presenting "milk before meat". In fact, this is a palatable way of describing the old "bait and switch" con used by scoundrels and cheats around the world for centuries. The basic premise is to seduce potential "investigators" and new converts by presenting only the most ideal, attractive and alluring components of the Mormon belief system. Once the person is baptized and ensnared in the hive, the church begins to slowly reveal its true doctrine and beliefs - line upon line, precept upon precept (as the Mormon saying goes). This approach is both purposeful and pervasive - this is an intentional program of "spin" based upon misinformation, half-truths and in some instances, flat out lying. Milk before meat methods, techniques and strategies are practiced consistently at every level of leadership within the Church.

So, you are asking, who cares about this? Surely the members in good standing know about this practice - they must condone it and participate in it so what possible harm can it do to the members? The fact is that they DON'T seem to know about it, or if they do have an inkling, they excuse it as a necessary means to the glorious end. I have found that Mormons are able to tolerate, justify, and accept all sorts of ugly Mormon policies. Polygamy, racial discrimination, and systematic devaluation of women top my list, but this is only a few of the policies most people would find rather unappetizing. If you are an intelligent person like my husband, this stuff literally wears you out over time. It must be exhausting to perform the mental gymnastics required to accept these policies which are quite obviously wrong! I have found that former Mormons leave when they finally fail in the battle to manage cognitive dissonance caused by the inconsistencies inherent in Mormon doctrine. When members finally recognize and accept the deceitfulness and hypocrisy inherent in Mormonism, they leave.

Conclusion

In closing let me just say that I do NOT believe that all LDS members are bad or that the Church is some kind of vicious cult. I am fully aware of the power this belief system and organization has to do some good for some people. What I am saying is that this system seems to cause a lot of psychological damage to a significant number of people. The wealth of personal testimony to this fact is irrefutable and undeniable - no matter what the official position of the Church is on this point, or how much the apologists try to cover it up. The "ex-mo" phenomenon is real and seems to be building. I am so glad that that my husband finally left the intellectual and emotional torture chamber that Mormonism became for him. My personal mission as a "never-mo" is to make sure he continues to progress on this earth, in this life as a free, happy, contented human being!

Story #5 A Letter to Mom and Dad

Mom and Dad,                                                                                     May 8, 2005

I am sorry it has taken me so long to write back.  It has been difficult deciding how much to write, and what to include.  I could probably write a book, and maybe someday I will.  I have written in this letter some of the experiences that have brought me to my decision.  This letter is in no way comprehensive, but I hope it will give you some idea.

I expect that in large part, you will not be able to understand how I feel.  Despite my efforts to share my experiences and my innermost thoughts, I feel as though you will always see things through “LDS colored” glasses.  Not just you, but virtually everyone in the church.  The viewpoint of the church is that mormons are right.  That is what the church teaches as absolute truth, and that everyone else only has a portion of the truth (corrupted by other things).  The market is cornered in the truth department.  Therefore, when viewing the opinions/experiences of others it is always through the lens of LDS doctrinal perfection.  Your perspective will probably be from this viewpoint, or at least profoundly influenced by it.  I understand this, because I have lived that life and believed that way myself.  It has colored every judgment I have passed on others.  Their opinions, stories, experiences, behavior, knowledge, history, beliefs, etc.  I know you believe strongly in the church, and I respect your belief.  I know you will read this as my parents.  However, I hope you can also read my letter and try to place yourselves in my shoes.  

Read it, ponder, pray.  You will receive an answer that it’s true.  If it is true, it’s all true, and everyone else is wrong.  The LDS faith is an all or nothing proposition.  This is what the church pins everything on.  If you believe it, you must believe it all and commit to all of it.  As Brigham Young said in 1865, “’Mormonism’ is true in every leading doctrine, or it is false as a system altogether.”

My difficulties dawned as a teenager.  That was when I began to be aware of myself, to see myself as my own person. I wondered what my true beliefs were, as opposed to what I had come to be programmed to believe through years of indoctrination.  So much of the church when you are young is borrowed.  I lived on borrowed testimony.  I followed the lead of my family.  But once I became a teenager, borrowed wasn’t enough.  You probably don’t recall my painful writings to Sister XXXXX in my seminary booklets.  I spent much of my teenage years hurting about how I felt.  My words in the booklets were my first attempt to reach out to someone, to seek help with the conflict I felt inside me.  My words explained that I did not have a testimony.  That I had tried to gain one, but couldn’t.  It hurt me so much to admit it.  I cried for hours as I contemplated my words in those booklets.  I yearned for what others seemed to receive so easily, to know so convincingly.  I described to her that, despite my every effort and good intention, despite all the reading and studying and praying, I did not feel what they said that they had felt.  Sister XXXXX’s response described me as an intelligent, analytical person.  She said that I could gain a testimony that way, but it would be hard.  Her response then contained all the usual answers to questions of feeling the spirit.  All the things that I had already been taught, and that I have since taught others thousands of times.  That answers come in all sorts of ways, describing those ways, and that perhaps I had already received mine but didn’t recognize it.  Despite following the formula that carries such a clear promise, I did not feel it.  I felt out of place, and confused.  I felt like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to, and yet nothing was happening.  I convinced myself that something was wrong with me.

I languished in this state for a couple years. Then one day came to a crossroad.  I had no idea what direction to take in my life.  On one hand I felt enormous pressure to serve a mission.  My brother had served, virtually all young men serve, and you aren’t looked on as a dedicated mormon if you don’t serve. But, I did not have a personal testimony. On the other hand, I did not know what other direction I wanted my life to go, because prior to that time a mission was the only option, the only expectation.  Being at a crossroad, I made a choice based on faith.  I decided that I would serve a mission.  You know that that was not the road I had been going down at that time.  Although I was not converted and had no testimony, I decided that a mission would be the best way to finally acquire one.  What better way than to immerse oneself in the study and practice of a religion 24/7/365.  As a practical matter, I also remember that, at worst, it wouldn’t kill me and that I could learn other things from the experience.

Upon my arrival in the MTC, I quickly saw that I was in over my head.  I was not going to be able to endure the MTC, let alone a full mission, without the witness of the spirit.  If I was going to preach this gospel as the truth, I HAD to know.  I embarked on the process to receive an answer.  Read, ponder, pray.  Only this time it was different, really different.  Now there was urgency.  If the LDS gospel was correct, if it was true, there was no way that God would withhold an answer that I could recognize.  I was about to dedicate myself to serving him, so surely he would answer.  Surely I would get the response in some way that I had learned that the spirit operates.  I poured out my heart and searched for the answer to come in any possible way.  While at the MTC I had two companions.  They were both surprised to find me in our room one night, distraught and sobbing almost uncontrollably. I had been pursuing the answer with earnest.  Fasting, reading, and praying.  Then waiting.  I needed the answer.  I needed something.  I received nothing.  I wondered why God would withhold an answer to my earnest prayers, especially when I so desperately and affirmatively wanted everything to be true.  I begged the lord, and then did not receive any response.  My companions tried to console me, but were unable to offer any words that brought comfort.  I was mixed up, and wondered why I was so different from everyone else.  I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me.

So now what?  For several days I contemplated returning home.  Ultimately I decided that returning home would be too embarrassing and that I would continue on.  That perhaps the answer would come as I worked in the mission field and lived the gospel.  So off I went to Europe.

During the first several months of my mission I pleaded for a witness that the church was true. I was also a very diligent missionary. I had never been more righteous in my life.  I obeyed all the mission rules and I worked hard. I did everything that I could do.  I felt so hurt when many of the missionaries I was with would claim divine guidance.  They would bear their testimonies about experiences that gave them “knowledge” of the truthfulness of the gospel, etc.  They would describe inspiration in the field that they had received as; “Go down this street, knock on that door”.  The spirit supposedly led them.  It struck me as peculiar that some of these missionaries were not obedient at all.  This just confused me more.  How could I try so hard, and yet not get results?  How could I be so pure with intent, so humble in desire, and so specific about what I needed, and then not receive it?  How could they not try at all, be disobedient, and be “led” here and there and have all these wonderful experiences from their lives that answered their prayers?  I often felt that I was simply not good enough as a person to deserve the companionship of the spirit that others had.  I followed the rules.  I lived the gospel.  Why was the answer not there?  Again and again I asked.  Nothing.  I felt unworthy and struggled to understand what amount of faith I had to have to receive this kind of witness.  I wasn’t expecting a vision or miracle, just any one of the descriptions of the spirit as contained in the scriptures. 

While in XXXXX city, I became very despondent.  I had determined that I must not be a clean person.  That the only thing that could keep the spirit from me was sin.  Although I had confessed to the bishop prior to leaving for the mission, I now felt that my confession must not have been complete enough.  I was so concerned that I decided to arrange a meeting with my mission president.  I called him and told him that I had to see him immediately.  I bought my companion and I train tickets to the mission home the very next day.  I met with the President XXXXX for several hours.  I spelled everything out for him, in great detail.  It took an enormous amount of courage to tell him that I felt like I hadn’t confessed all of my sins in preparing to come into the mission field.  I went to the mission home that day thinking that I would be sent home in disgrace.  I still remember the train ride, and the thought of being sent home.  Though fearful for what might be embarrassing, I felt courage knowing that I would have a clear conscience and would be able to then pursue inspiration.  We discussed my past, and he assured me that all was forgiven.  He instructed me to go back to XXXXX city and dedicate myself, and get back to work.  He said that was where I would get the answers I had looked for.  I was so relieved.  So I returned and I got to work, hard.  A couple months later I was transferred to XXXXX city.  After several months had passed, nothing had changed.  But I pressed on.  During this time I had begun reading “The Miracle of Forgiveness”.   I determined through what I read in that book that, once again, that I must not be clean enough.  Zone Conference was soon, and I decided I would need to talk President XXXXX again.  When the interview came, I again recounted my belief that there must be something wrong with me, or I must confess in more detail so that I could receive the spirit.  He abruptly stopped me.  He was very upset with me and yelled at me.  He told me to drop it and get back to work.  I was startled by his response.  I felt as though I had been scolded like a little child.  Scolded for trying to do what was right, and to get the answers, to be spiritually sound myself.  It became apparent that my spiritual predicament was not important.  It was very clear to me in what he said: that the important thing was doing the work, getting the numbers.  How many discussions taught, how many hours tracting, how many BOMs passed out, how many baptisms, etc.  The whole focus of my efforts from that time on, as directed by my mission president, became numbers.  I eventually rationalized that this must be so that I could “lose myself” in the work, in order to find what I was supposed to.  I didn’t realize it then, but I was losing myself all right…in a different way.

The rest of my mission I spent going through the motions that had started to become so familiar to me.  I couldn’t feel the spirit myself, but I absolutely was not going to let anyone else know that.  I did not fit in, but no one knew, and no one was going to know.  I played along, and I played my part very well.  I worked hard and long.  I got the numbers they wanted.  As other missionaries spoke, so I spoke.  It became so easy and routine, an alternate reality.

The culmination of my mission occurred in XXXXX city.  My companion and I were not on speaking terms.  You may remember that he had punched me in the face, in malice.  Despite our relationship, we baptized a couple in the Mediterranean Sea at sunset on the last weekend I was there.  I felt sad for those people, but even sadder for myself.  How had I gotten through that?  Teaching the gospel of truth and love, while my companion and I were at odds.  We did it by going through the motions.  Putting on the “face”.  Playing the part.  That couple was prepared before we got to them, they had discussed the church with other family members.  Our teaching was a formality.  I really think that we could have taught them plural marriage, blood atonement, and the Adam-God doctrine and they would have agreed.  Did I feel any sort of spiritual revelation or fulfillment?  No.  I felt that I had lived the gospel at the highest level.  In addition to following the gospel, I had served will diligence.  I had prayed thousands of prayers.  I had fasted up to three days at a time.  I had read, no studied, the scriptures every single day. It was quite clear to me then in XXXXX city, in the twilight of my mission, that every possible opportunity to receive what I had sought had existed during those two years.  I left Europe feeling empty and lost.  But worse, by this time I had cultivated a behavior pattern of unquestioning conformity that I would continue for many years.  Little did I know the effect this would eventually have on me.

But you did not know any of this.

Then once I came home, along came “XXXXX”.  I regret to this day everything to do with that woman.  She took advantage of me, and it almost cost me dearly.  Everything with her happened so fast.  She dominated me.  As she described it, everything was “so right”.  We were meant for each other.  Did you know that I never even asked her to marry me?  Once we had seen each other for a while it was all presumed.  She told me how right it was, how she was led to me.  As we sat in the temple and she described how right it was, and can’t you feel the spirit, in my mind I was screaming “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”  But what do I do?  I had played along so much for the past two years that playing along now had come much too naturally.  I decided that I must call it off.  It wasn’t right, and I wasn’t in love.  I was infatuated.  I hadn’t been around a girl for two years.  Now here was one that was all over me, and telling me the spirit was saying how right it was. How could the spirit tell her it was so right?  It reminded me of the other missionaries being “led”.  How was it that others were receiving it, but not me?  And if the only thing I could think was “NOOOO”, how does that reconcile with what she was feeling?  It was all too serious too quick.  Immediately after informing P, I was summoned to Bishop XXXXX’s office.  He attempted to tell me that I just had cold feet.  I assured him that this was not the case.  He then told me that there must be some other thing obstructing my ability to know that this was right.  Something like sin.  (This, by the way, is the most common theme from every church leader I have talked with regarding my spirituality, and there have been plenty of those discussions, with plenty of leaders).  I’d had enough.  I had confessed both in prayer and to church leaders more than I think any person could possibly need to, to the tiniest detail.  I ended the meeting and walked away feeling disgusted that a Bishop, a “Judge in Israel”, had tried to guilt me into continuing with a marriage that I didn’t want.  Its easy for the church to say, when things of this nature happen, that the person was not operating as a Bishop at the time, but as a person, and was therefore fallible.  That is too convenient an excuse for me.  I was there.  This was an issue discussed in the operation of his calling as a Bishop, not a casual conversation at the ballgame.

The behavior of President XXXXX and Bishop XXXXX are not random instances that have soured my feelings.  This behavior has been echoed throughout my whole adult life by many other priesthood authorities.  Despite this, I do not pin my disbelief on hurt feelings or insensitive behavior of leaders.  I also do not pin my disbelief on doctrinal issues.  My disbelief is rooted in the lack of spiritual confirmation of the veracity of the mormon religion as promised.  However, the fruits of this behavior certainly are not conducive to faith building.  Furthermore, without spiritual confirmation, many doctrinal issues of the church are very problematic.  Once again, I have lived it.  I know all of the short answers to the difficult questions.  I even know a lot of the long answers.  When you are a true-blue believer, you will accept anything because that is what you are taught to do.  Sure, they tell you to pray yourself, and get your own testimony (which for me has never happened).  But then they tell you that when a prophet speaks the debate is over.  So if you don’t get the testimony, what do you do?  You play the part.  You put the item up on a shelf, or tuck it away.  You follow along.  Call it faith if you want.  I once believed I had faith.  But that faith was not rewarded.  I did have hope.  Hope that turned into blind obedience.  I thought that through perseverance I would one day get an answer.  I continued on, and on, and on.  I feel now just as Carl Sagan once wrote:

One of the saddest lessons of history is this:  If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle.  We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth.  The Bamboozle has captured us.  It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we’ve been taken.

I have been a Full Time Missionary, a Stake Missionary, a Gospel Essentials Teacher, a Counselor in the Elders Quorum, an Elders Quorum President, a Ward Clerk, and most frequently a Gospel Doctrine Instructor.  Since my teenage years, I have bounced in and out of activity in the church.  Each time I that rededicated myself to finding out the truth, I jumped in with both feet.  With full commitment, and a renewed hope.  But each time, the conflict in me developed to critical mass.  To a point at which I could not continue.  Consequently, rather than to really deal with the issue (only to have another guilt trip from a priesthood leader), I would distance myself…become less active.  It then became more palatable.  After a while I would return, only to reach the same point again.  I have continued this pattern until now, never going past the point where I would distance myself.  I went no further because I feared what the consequences could be.  Pretending my belief was always more attractive than any other alternative.  I knew that families in the church have been broken over issues like this. 

In each of the positions I served in, I took very seriously my responsibilities.  None more so than Elders Quorum President.  Having this calling meant responsibility for the welfare of others.  This was serious.  Surely I would receive revelation.  If not for my own personal quest, then certainly the welfare of those for whom I was responsible.  I remember vividly my attempt to choose counselors.  After struggling to come up with names, I decided to go with two individuals that I knew.  After telling the Bishop whom I had selected, he questioned the choices.  He said “Are you sure you don’t want this person” (referring to someone else).  What was I to say?  How inadequate I felt.  He acted as if he was privy to some sort of revelation that I wasn’t.  I know that they were mine to choose, but then again, I hadn’t received any kind of inspiration in choosing them.  The rest of my time as Elders Quorum President continued in this exact same fashion.  Selecting home teachers, leading the quorum, making other decisions.  All devoid of any feeling of guiding influence.  All full of angst, bewilderment and feelings of inadequacy.  It was during this time that I had episodes of anxiety that would cause me to hyperventilate. 

Can you even begin understand how troubling this was?  I had nowhere to turn.  What was I to do?  Continue on, and play the part.  So I did.  As long as I could. Between the conflict at church, and the stress of my occupation, something had to give.  I asked to be released.  President XXXXX reluctantly released me.  I don’t think he gave much credibility to my situation.  Looking back on this now I see the makings of a pattern that was driving me towards mental illness.

All of my callings have troubled me.  The mission, elders quorum, and also gospel doctrine.  I tried to be so good at it, to present things in a different light, another angle.  So many people enjoyed my lessons because they were a change of pace from the normal church lessons.  But, regrettably, the preparation took a terrible toll on me.  It has always bothered me that the lesson manuals gloss over so many facts, and are sometimes out and out deceiving.  Leaving out so many details that it has changed perspective of doctrine to something different, something more diluted and mainstream.  So much omission…why?  Why can’t the “true” church stand on it’s own and acknowledge the some of the facts of its history, unsavory though they may seem?

Should I tell you about priesthood blessings?  Blessing my children?  Baptisms?  I sought inspiration for all.  Weeks, days, minutes before the event I tried to come up with words that I thought would sound nice.  One could say that those words were given to me, but then how could I tell that from any other self-generated thought?  There was no difference.  Every time I gave a blessing, I stood there, searching…waiting…hoping.  Sometimes there would be a very lengthy uncomfortable delay.  All that came out was what I had prepared to say in the event I didn’t receive divine guidance.  Lacking anything else, I would just begin and say things that I had heard before.  Generic words of comfort, and promises that any healing was based on faith, etc, etc.  Not one of these events brought divine guidance and words that were from some other source.

Should I tell you about the church court in XXXXX City?  I had it in my mind that nothing short of a temple marriage would be acceptable for XXXXX (my wife), for her mom, and for you.  So to get myself back into good standing, I had to be tried in