Posted by:
nonsequiter
(
)
Date: June 23, 2015 08:51PM
Sometimes I find myself questioning whether or not it was worth it for me to serve a mission. Granted I only served for 13 months, still 13 months is a significant period of time. One reason I hear on why it is worth it to serve a mission is the learning of valuable skills and experience. However, I think that these skills are also readily learned and acquired through going off to college or holding down a job. However, there is one thing the mission did for me that I dont think anything else would have done quite as thoroughly. I became a missionary for myself… in leading myself away from the church.
A lot of people would look at my life and assume it was my sexuality that led me away from the church. There is a tendency for mormons to think that because of the extreme demands of the church on gay people (Pretend to be straight or live a life of loneliness) that most gay people are more likely to just “give up” rather than stick with mormonism. 19 year old me was not typical of this.
At 19 I had already realized I was gay and thought it to myself freely. I hadnt told anyone else but I knew I was gay.I was also devout mormon. I had promised to myself I would choose celibacy out of devotion. I wanted to live this life alone in order to be with god in heaven. It was a choice I felt strongly about and heading into a mission was only a natural outcome of my beliefs. There was a slight hope in me that perhaps I would “become straight” as I served, but it wasn’t the dominating thought in my mind. I knew that homosexuality was a part of me.
What I am trying to say is that my sexuality was not a deciding factor in my leaving mormonism. But what followed on my mission was, and Im not sure my mind would have “woken up” quite the same way had I not served.
On the mission you are inundated with thousands of rules. Not only are you told repeatedly to be obedient to these rules, but these rules are elevated to the status of commandments. They are your special way of life as a missionary and are so given extreme importance. They are treated sacredly.
My issue early on was that the rules are mostly vapid, concentrated on appearance, and ultimately very shallow in nature.
A missionary who wakes up at 6:35 AM is deemed a sinner, while a missionary awake at 6:30AM is a saint.
Males must shave every day, even if their facial hair barely shows.
The suit, tie, shirt, nametag, must be worn every day.
Scheduling is another sacred duty of missionaries.
None of these things are sacred to me. What one culture deems appropriate may be taboo for another, and to me the whole point of god and religion was to transcend what carnal man thought and believed naturally… yet so much of the focus of missionaries was to submit into the very carnal ideals of western culture.
A groomed person is a clean person.
Personal study for precisely one hour was all you needed.
Exercise in the morning is the only time to do it.
Television, media, creative outlets unrelated to god would only distract..
Every day I thought to myself Why does God care about these minute things? does he? Or is it just the church that cares? If its just the church why do I submit?
Another problem is that in the church there is a ready made script for almost anything. Very quick yet totally non succinct answers were given to me for all my questions. All our door approaches were scripted. All our lessons were scripted. Life was a script.
Obedience is the first law in heaven.
Obedience brings blessing, yet exact obedience brings miracles.
Almost everything is answered with a cliche and for me, someone willing to sacrifice one of the most fulfilling things a human can experience, love, it all felt absurdly shallow.
I was surrounded by fakes. By scripts. The shallow end of the pool was so crowded and no one dared venture over to the deep end.
My mission gave me the nerve to swim over to the deep end where the answers were and the cliches werent.
When I realized that mormons are allowed to question but not allowed to question the answers they got, it was a big breaking point.
Was I really going to give up the idea of love just because some shallow 80 plus year old man never dared to ask himself: Is homosexuality really bad?
If they cant even be bothered to question the idea that a white shirt must always be worn by a priesthood holder in service, (as if the color of my attire holds some time tested, eternal significant relevance) should I trust these same people with deep and meaningful questions of my life?
There was absolutely nothing about me that ever questioned authority prior to my mission. I was the model student who did everything exactly as directed… but in my 12th month of missionary service I finally had enough and plunged down the rabbit hole.
Everything became suspect.
I came home the next month, head spinning. Dealing with a lot of personal and emotional struggles. For another year I remained an active, calling-holding, tithe-paying, mormon.
A whole year. I didnt want people to think I had left because I couldn’t do it, or because I just wanted to sin. I gave this church my honest best and it failed me, not the other way around.
It failed to give me answers rather than cliches.
It failed to give me purpose.
It failed to calm my broken heart.
It failed to include me.
It failed to be there for me.
It failed to not kick me while I was already down.
It failed.
Yet very often in some circles I get the blame of failure.
Mormons see me, and they see failure. Because the ready made scripts dont apply to me.
They dont see the person who is happier since leaving. Who is learning about life. Who is trying to do good. Who is trying to move on.
They see someone who “gave up” to “carnal desires”
They are so preoccupied with the surface and the shallow end of the pool. Scared of drowning that they cant see me for me.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/23/2015 09:02PM by nonsequiter.