I actually lost faith in the Church after my first Endowment ceremony. Not only was it bizaar, and the film was so cheap and ridiculous, and the temple robes were cheap and ridiculous, but I really went to the Temple hoping to become enlightened into the Mysteries of God, but I wound up finding out the what God really wants me to do is to consecrate all my earnings to the Church, and not laugh too much nor make fun of Church leaders. That's about it. I was DEVASTATED. Should have left then, but didn't. This was just before my mission. I said to myself: "I'll go on this mission, and hopefully I'll regain my faith!" Well, I did, for awhile at least, until events on my mission convinced me "This is all bullcrap". Went home, and tried to get active again, many times, but it never took. Tell me about your first Temple experience....

I too thought it was very weird. But, like the good follow-the-leader type of person I was, I just went along with the program to get along with the rest of the people I looked up to. I figured I'd be told all the details one day. That day never came, especially when I was an ordinance worker and found out they're all in the dark. Even the temple president didn't know anything.

Now that I'm on the outside looking in, it's about the weirdest thing on earth. Something more akin to a satanic cult than a so-called mainstream religion. It's like I was in a post-hypnotic trance for forty years.

Same thing for me. Except that I had been inactive for 30 years. Living in Utah and being convinced by friends I respected. Told me my life would not be complete until I become active and go to the Temple. So I believed I would be some exulted human with first hand knowledge of God and the universe.

turns out, I learned. I can't have a good belly laugh anymore, I must give all my time, talents and future talents to TSCC. Talents and time I figured also implied money.

Some cheap film in which I expected Capt. Pickard to appear anytime. Stupid handshakes, and old people. Lots of old people.

After 30 years in the real world I knew a rat when I saw one. I was done. disappointed but done. I did my research like most thinkers and concluded the TSCC was a huge fraud.

Oh, and those friends, well they are not in my life anymore.

in your 20s and having been active all your life than to go after being inactive and working yourself back into the church and then going later in life. I have a cousin who went in his 60s. I'd really love to hear what he thought!!!!

I had a friend who told me a few years before I got married (she had gone on a mission) that she almost left the church over the temple. I had NEVER had someone make a statement like that to me. I'm sure she is probably out now, though I haven't heard from her in years.

I was actually relieved only for the fact that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I never liked the temple. I only went 4 or 5 times. Doing sealings to a stranger was the last straw.

The point during my first visit when I really said to myself WTF was when I had to promise to only have sexual intercourse with my spouse. I couldn't believe they actually said intercourse in the temple. Blew my mind.

"A talent was an ancient unit of weight and value in Greece, Rome, and the Middle East. In the Old Testament, a talent was a unit of measurement for weighing precious metals, usually gold and silver. In the New Testament, a talent was a value of money or coin."

I actually liked it. There were a few things that let me down, but over all, I felt like I had an amazing experience. I went after 2005, so I missed out on some parts of it. Perhaps that's why I had a more enjoyable experience.

I remember getting taking a shower before going to the temple, because I was aware of the washing and anointing. However, I didn't know what that would entail, and I assumed that someone would be washing my feet and perhaps my hands as well. I was a little surprised at how minimal the washing was, but that wasn't a major disruption.

The film of the endowment wasn't spectacular, but I felt it served its purpose. I wanted the church to make newer ones, and it's about time that it did. There were certain parts that didn't make a lot of sense, but I figured that I'd understand them eventually.

The signs and clothing fascinated me. I wanted to know what it all meant, and I remember practicing the signs to myself after I got home to make sure that I wouldn't forget. I guess you could say I was excited about it.

The whole experience was uplifting and spiritual for me. Since then, the temple seems to have lost something. I've never been able to recreate that energy and spiritualness that accompanied the first experience.

It honestly didn't bug me. I was the kind of nerd in college who read Umberto Eco books for pleasure and anything tinged with Masonic/Gnostic/Kabbalistic symbolism interested me. It took a few years for me to see that the original source rituals had been gutted in ways that made the whole thing less coherent.

The pre-1990 temple endowment and initiatory ceremony experience is the thing that gave me absolute confidence that leaving the church and resigning my membership was the right thing for me to do. So I guess it's good for something. I have a distrust of anyone who has been through those ceremonies and still thinks they're sacred. Those ceremonies are both creepy and satanic. I can't believe it took me ten years to figure that out (because of the brainwashing). I should have gone screaming out of there when it happened.

I was a convert and had expected something that would take me up a level in my knowledge of God. I was shocked, but like most people figured that I was the reason I didn't get it.

For years I tried to figure out why their description of the markings on the veil made no sense. Or, why did the mingled with scripture thing seem to apply directly to LDS.

One of the big validations for my leaving the church came from the temple. I could not believe that Jesus would have anything to do with the throat slitting.

I had no idea what was going to happen before my first time. The only things I knew were that there would be some sort of washing, !that I needed to bring garments, and that temple clothes were white except for one part that would be green like leaves.

When I saw a couple of guys in full regalia in the dressing room, I was freaked out but decided I had cone too far at thus point to drop out. (In other words, I had stopped jacking off for about three months and my balls were really sore!)

During the washings, I was clothed in the pancho, and being somewhat modest, I grasped the sides so that the other men couldn't see my wiener. The polyester of the poncho did rub a little on my junk, and I felt slightly erotic walking around. The blessings were okay but the steel cows horn weirded me out. When the temple workers pulled up the one-piece garment, they wacked my wiener up against my abdomen, kind of a strange feeling, but I was proud to be finally wearing garments.

So, I was told I would be given a new name that must remain SECRET, WTF! Barnabas was my new name and it was to be kept secret! What happened to sacred? Toss it on the shelf.

The movie endowment made no sense after the creation. I did learn that my church officially was polytheistic though. Now the fun part, secret handshakes, slicing and dicing, and weird gestures. My best friends were doing all the sh!t so it was okay, right?

Finally the veil with the big markings cut into it. Hands coming out, what the fuck is wanted? Three knocks, where the fuck is that shelf. Adam having learned the second token of the Mel. Priesthood by having conversed through The Lord through the veil, now desires to enter into the Lords presence (or some sh!t like that). Let him enter.

Congratulations Boner! You made it! You're officially the Lord's anointed! Ah, the shelf is really beginning to bend in the middle...Fucking cult!

The Boner.

Boner, you do have a way with words. You should write a book and title it, "Mormonism: What the Fuck?" written and illustrated by The Boner.

Tom, that honor goes to Raptor Jesus on this board. I'm a novice cusser compared to him.

I highly recommend you get Raptor's book on Amazon. I laughed so hard, so many tines while reading it. Some of his one-liners still crack me up when I think of them. And he nails the cultural/doctrinal aspects perfectly.

PS if your kindle has a V chip in it, disable it or it's likely to overheat quickly. lol Boner!

Every time I think of the temple I remember the line from Raptor Jesus book about the end of the endowment that made me laugh hysterically:

They surround saying, "Congratulations. It's over and you made it. Now let's all go to Village Inn to get Belgian Waffles and we'll never speak of this again."

I'm still laughing because it describes mine perfectly except we went to Harmon's Kentucky Fried Chicken after.

The one that I laugh over and over is the gay brother who loved c*ck more that The Lord!

That's a good point. We really were the Lord's Anointed, but the legalistic climber types tried to reserve that designation only for themselves, well on their way to the Second Anointing. If they ever speak evil of me, that is the gravest of sins and they will be lucky to spend only a few million years in Hell before they get transferred to the Telestial Universe.

Unless it's not real, of course.

It was like the greasy cheap Chinese food we had afterwards. Made you feel a bit too full, and you knew deep down it wasn't real food.

across the room during the endowment ceremony and saw my mom, (who I always thought of as an incredibly sweet, naive, kind person), making the hand motions of slitting her throat, slicing open her chest and disembowling herself.

It was like discovering my parents were really aliens.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/31/2014 09:41PM by Ihidmyself.

The lizard inside! Eventually they can't hide it any more.

Talking to my Dad about Mormonism since I went to the temple has been like a bad horror movie. I never know when he'll blow up at the most innocent comment. Then he stares at me like he wants to cut my throat.

I feel badly for you guys! My parents told me I joined a cult. They got the giggles over the underwear and, thank God, didn't see the other clothes or ceremony.

To have one's parents, who supposedly are wiser than the child, do all the crazy sh!t and then get angry when you question...you folks are the adults, not your parents.

I should note that after I came home from the Endowment, I heard all sorts of voices in my room speaking languages I could not understand. At the time I ascribed it to "the veil now being thin". Of course, I had a 102 degree flu, so it was probably the flu that did that.

I think that's one of the biggest reasons that the church wants most people endowed before a special milestone. If the young adults are preparing for a mission or marriage, they feel stuck when they're freaked out by the temple and like they don't have a choice. Walking out or walking away from the church after isn't an option because it puts their mission or marriage in jeopardy. Very smart.

I remember thinking that there was no way that type of situation was of God, at least not any God that I wanted to believe in. It felt more satanic to me than heavenly, definitely cultish.

I was very, very TBM when I went for my endowments.

It was back in the early 1980s and they still did the throat slitting pantomines.

I think I was just numb when they hit that part of the ceremony. I didn't allow myself to think about it, because if I had, it would have seemed so bizarre.

Talk about cognitive dissodance!

And all that handshaking and stuff - just numb. Didn't allow myself to think about it.

I focused my attention, instead, on those things that I was told to focus my attention on - the "peaceful calmness" of the temple (that I never felt, but pretended that I did), the "beauty" of the temple (well, it was OK, but I was at one of the first McTemples, so it wasn't beautiful like Manti or SLC), etc.

The best part of that day was after we left the temple and went out to eat at a fine steak house to celebrate.

That was for me one of the most anxiety inducing days of my life.

I grew up with a single mom, as my so-called "father" was never part of my life after age 4.

The only father figure I had was my uncle who had molested me from age 8 until 15 (about) was my escort through the temple. On our drive there, he glossed over everything, so it wasn't a total shock.

I was very uncomfortable with the nekkid bits. I mean, my pedophile uncle was somewhere around a corner. Where is this going to go? How far is this going to happen? I only did the "Washing and anointing" stuff the one time. I would never do it again. Ever.

Then in the so-called "endowment", I, as did others, sat there and watched my mom just slit her throat from ear to ear.

A distinct thought in my head was "well, if she's doing it I guess this must be right, but damn this just feels so WRONG!"

After it was all over and we were milling about in the main room, it felt like I was looking at my ward and everybody was in their underwear. Temple clothes I had seen all my life. I had seen my moms and my aunts and uncles and even my dads, so I was well versed in the items. I had also seen everybody's garmies, but I had never seen them IN their garmies. So to see everybody that I knew in the ward in the temple robes, I associated it with underwear. One lady asked me "so what do you think?" I remember my answer.

"It's pretty cool. It feel like everybody is walking around in their underwear!" She didn't like that I don't think.

When I realized that it was over and from here on out, no more surprises, I was able to relax a bit.

Puzzled is the word that comes to my mind. I was outright puzzled! Like "What on earth??" Especially the annointing part.

That about describes it for me as well. I remember walking into the celestial room to join my parents and older siblings. I was confused, and my parents had nervous looks on their faces. I still wonder what they were thinking, cause I would bet on, "I hope he doesn't realize we're in a cult!" I felt like I couldn't ask any questions, so we all stood there in awkward silence until someone said, "let's go get something to eat." Hallelujah!...it's over! I wish I had spoken up and said "WTF was THAT?!" Instead, I kept my mouth shut and left for the MTC the following week. I attended regularly after my mission, trying to figure it out. It never made any sense until I realized it was all BS. The. Everything became crystal clear

I was, honestly, disappointed. My understanding of what was to take place was so much grander than it turned out.
They've done away with the fully-nude-under-a-barber's-cape initiatory session now, but that's how it was when I went through. In my head there was supposed to be a bald-headed priest and an escort walking me nude twixt lines of torches, washing me head to toe from a brass basin, oil mixed with myrrh (per the Old Testament).
Then I went to a locker to change into my new underwear. The same bald-headed priest was supposed to clad me in scarlet and azure, and lead me to secret, incense-billowing chambers where deepest arcanae would be whispered me. Instead I got sent up some stairs, and seated in another chapel.
The presentation was in movie form, with a guy standing, bored, pretending to be saying it. Worse, I was in a huge crowd of people. At least, I thought, we are all in the same, meaningful-looking garb. This must be deeply important and solemn.
I am still afraid to reveal more than this, even to a huge group of people who already know it. So I guess that part of the solemnization worked. I thought secret signs &c. We're awesome, and was sure any names that may or may not have been given to me were specifically and carefully for me.
Lastly, I was so excited for the end of the ceremony, that I was sure I'd see Father, or angels, ...or something. It was crushing when there was just an old man in a line of old men I greet me just like everybody else.

Then I discovered they'd removed pieces; pieces of how to get back to heaven, and I was astounded. I asked my dad about them, and we had to go back to the temple to get answers, all of which were deeply insufficient. ("Swear unto me by thy throat, and if thou tell it, thou shalt die..." Came to mind more than once)
And years later, I saw what the masons did, and learned about having the "true masonry" (JOD, so it doesn't count, right?) and it hurts even worse. I wanted a secret and magical initiation, not the fast food version of an ancient ritual.

I'm actually really sad now. *sigh*

I have managed to repress most of the memories. Seriously. It was the Sixties, and I was back east in the mission field, so no temples to go to until I got to the SLC mission home. Salt Lake Temple, live ceremony (film hadn't been created yet, though I think SLC endowment is still live). I mostly remember feeling herded and confused, and WTF about the penalties.

Went to Manti a couple times while in the Provo LTM (now MTC?). Came back, got married in the SL temple, went to the Provo temple a few times, though I have no idea how many. I'm thinking no more than twice a year, but I really don't remember. Stopped participating in LDS Inc the minute I graduated from the Zoo, and never looked back.

The temple is both as memorable and as inspiring as a colonoscopy. Both even require that you be "clean". The colonoscopy is cheaper, and you generally only do it every ten years after age 55.

Didn't enjoy it.

Felt very cultish.

Made me really uncomfortable.

I was expecting to see, hear, and feel things Celestial. I thought I would see angels at the very least, if not Jesus. After all, with the secrecy surrounding the temple and the endowment always been talked about in such reverent hushed tones, the experience would be one step closer to God, right?

First, shock at the cash register and costume rental. Seemed so out of place, inappropriate.

Next, the ticket taker or permission slip checker. This was the old days. Just a written piece of paper front he Bishop that anyone could forge.

The locks on the lockers was a real shocker. Stealing in the temple!?

The anointing did not shock. At least it seemed biblical since everyone knew that a dab of oil was one of God's favorite rites.

The new name was a let down. Mine was biblical, Elias, and I knew in my gut I wasn't that special to be named after a prophet in the bible, so why did I of all people get that name? Big wave to all the other Eliases out there. How many of us are there. I thought my name would be a one of a kind--what Daddy God used to call me in the preexistence.

The Pentograms really threw me for a loop.

Satan seemed to be running the show and got the coolest Apron and kept telling a clueless Elohim what was going on.

The script reminded me of a first grade reader.

As a young artist, the murals were beautiful to me and did seem heavenly.

I did not even know how to digest the blood oaths. I could not even comprehend, so I just let it go. Accepted it as was my nature in most things.

The prayer group was creepy.

NOTHING said Celestial. Nothing reeked of the Godly. Nothing was representational of a loving God who had created the entire universe. Nothing there in the temple said omniscient or omnipotent. What it said was Omniridiculous. What I should have realized was that it was Omnidangerous.

But . . . I sat there with my father, the most respected man in the county, a real man's man--the bishop, the high councilman, the stake patriarch, the champion sportsman--and because of him, I assumed I just did not get it. And of course like many of you, I was told once I got to the Celestial room that every time I went to the temple I would understand more and more.

And as I sat there on a velvet padded bench in what seemed like any other hotel lobby, looking at the eternity mirrors which seemed like a fun house trick, I was tapped on the shoulder by a matron and told to take a moment and then move on. The bum's rush!

Within days I was in the mission home.

It was weird. I especially liked the part where I promised to have my throat slit and be disemboweled. It was quite comforting. But hey, I was now part of the super-secret society, one of the privileged few destined to have celestial sex for the eternities and create some badass planets, so what the hell. It was all good.

Being indoctrinated TBM by then i bought it hook line and sinker. I was totally awed by it. Secret and sacred makes you special and an elite son of God. Not talking about it because it was sacred temple stuff, my wife never told me how the ceremony was creepy and weird for her. She thought it was so strange but being her husband's helpmate she never told me about her feelings until after we left the church. Thirty years she lived with this secret and when she finally told me I felt so bad for her.

I similarly felt that it was special because most people couldn't go inside. I always wanted the temple to be more open, but at the same time I recognized that part of what made it special was its exclusive nature.

My first one was a live session. Satan was played by some guy I had seen at funerals and conferences. He was quite a quite a funny old guy in the real world, so when he came out dressed as the devil, (in a dark blue polyester suit? WTF?), I started laughing, expecting some sit-com hilarity to ensue. My lightheartedness was quickly greeted with scowling glances of disapproval, and I quickly realized that the nice old mormon guys of my youth liked their fucked-up rituals served cold.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 09/01/2014 12:58PM by ladell.

Disappointed. Creeped out. Bizarre. Cult like. Ridiculous. Those are a few adjectives that describe how I felt.

I hated it. It was the first crack in my already heavy shelf, and was what ultimately led me out. How could god seriously want every single person on earth, then and now, to do this? And not once but many times.