I still remember a Sunday when I was a young teenager, when the bishop felt impressed to get up at the end of sacrament meeting and share some counsel. I don’t remember any of the specifics of what he said. But I remember how he concluded his talk: in a voice of utter certainty, he said, “This is the will of the Lord for this ward.” And I loved that he said that. It made me feel so safe. God was aware of and interested in our ward, so tiny in comparison to the great vast world. God would send direction through priesthood leadership about even small decisions and issues. Weren’t we lucky to have that, while other people had to deal with uncertainty and doubt. We had a sure connection to God.
(I actually didn’t know when I was growing up that other churches also believed themselves to be guided by the Spirit. I’d never been to another church, but I’d somehow picked up the idea that not only were the Mormons the only group to be truly guided by the Holy Ghost, they were the only group that even made the claim. Based on the bits and pieces I’d heard at church, as well as passages from the Book of Mormon, I vaguely imagined that other religious groups just talked about how sad it was that they didn’t have prophets, didn’t have the Spirit to guide them, and lamented that the age of miracles had ceased. I remember my first semester at the University of Notre Dame, going to opening mass and hearing the president of the university tell us that the most important words we could say were “come, Holy Spirit,” and being struck by how incredibly incorrect so many of my assumptions had been.)
The idea that God was directing everything in the church, from the decisions of local priesthood leaders to the counsel given at General Conference, was tremendously reassuring. But sometimes it was painful, too. When local leaders told me something that was the absolute opposite of my experience, and claimed inspiration as their source, I had no framework from which to consider that they might be wrong. I was all too easily persuaded to simply dismiss my experience, which I wasn’t very in touch with in the first place. I was well aware that I was a very confused and messed-up teenager; who was I to know anything? Surely a priesthood leader had superior insight. Even if what we were talking about were the personal details of my own life.
And yet there were ways in which I was conflicted. I had feminist leanings from a young age; I was the kid in Primary who wanted to know why women didn’t get the priesthood. So much of what the church said about gender roles didn’t seem right to me. I couldn’t decide what to believe. The General Authorities spoke on the subject with such authority, such finality. I was both the doubter who asked obnoxious questions, and the kid who was desperate to believe, who paid close attention to General Conference, listening for the message the Lord had for me personally. I thought it was a system of patriarchal, sexist nonsense, and I also believed it wholeheartedly. I can’t neatly put all those pieces together, but they were all there.
To this day, when someone gets up at a microphone and speaks in a GA voice, with the cadences of a conference talk, I react. I don’t know that I ever won’t have that response, at least a little. That being the ultimate voice of authority goes back to my earliest memories. And for so long, I so badly wanted to believe in that world where God was closely running everything. Where certain humans were able to convey God’s messages with perfect clarity. Which is perhaps why, no matter how many times General Conference left me in tears, I went back for more.
I’ve seen a lot said in the past few days about how we need to give the GAs a break. They’re only human, after all. They’re trying their best. And I actually do believe in their sincerity. There are ex-Mormons who concoct stories of hush money and conscious deception, but my take is different. I think they really do see themselves as seeking inspiration as best they can. But this is where it breaks for me. The leaders of the church are the ones who are claiming with absolute certainty that they speak for God. This notion is not a strange idea being cooked up by credulous members. This is what the leaders themselves are saying. This is how they are representing themselves. President Nelson got up in January of 2016 and stated clearly and unequivocally that the PoX was a revelation, that it was the will of the Lord. He didn’t say that this was just an idea that seemed worth trying for a while. I deeply dislike the trend I’m seeing now where members are getting blamed for not knowing better. Yes, members have a responsibility to check what authorities are saying against their individual consciences and experiences with God; I absolutely believe that. But don’t leaders have a responsibility as well, to not represent themselves as having a sort of batphone to the divine?
I don’t know how many times I’ve sat in a therapist’s office, crying about all of this. Intellectually, I kept saying, I could see that the church was clearly wrong. About women. About gay people. Everything in my experience told me that. And yet on some level I was still terrified that they might be right. Because they were so incredibly sure of themselves. They were so confident. They knew. And if they were right, and they were in fact speaking for God on these issues, the world was such a bleak place that I could hardly bear it.
I’ve only been in an affirming church for two years now. And I’m still in the process of really letting myself take in the possibility in that God is ultimately about love. And that “love” doesn’t mean carefully drawing circles to separate out the worthy from everyone else. That it’s radical and inclusive beyond comprehension. When I sense that even a little, it brings me to life. But is a slow thing, to undo a lifetime of absorbing different messages. It’s not that I didn’t learn about God’s love in my LDS upbringing. But what made it so confusing was that the messages about love were deeply intertwined with other, deeply hurtful messages.
I can live with institutions making mistakes, sometimes huge ones. I don’t think that’s avoidable. Discerning the voice of God is not easy. We’re all limited by so many things, and what we hear is shaped by biases we’re not even aware of. That’s simply the human condition. I don’t expect perfection from a church. But I’ve hit a breaking point. I simply cannot deal with a complete unwillingness to ever acknowledge mistakes, a stance in which you never take any responsibility for any decisions that went wrong, or stop even for a minute to look at the damage you might have done. Too often it seems to me that LDS leaders value preserving a certain institutional image over ministering to the needs of the actual people in the church. No matter how energetically Mormons attempt to re-brand themselves as Christians, I suspect it will feel somewhat hollow, so long as love of God and love of neighbor are both less important than loyalty to the institution and obedience to authority.
I know this is harsh. I’m angry. I’m really, really angry.
I’ve been thinking for the last few months that I needed to finally take the last step and formally break ties with the church. Even though I’ve been gone for two years now, it’s still felt like a big decision. But this past week was oddly clarifying. This worldview in which prophets are for all intents and purposes infallible, in which everyone has to apologize except for the people in authority—it’s not an annoying side feature of the church. It’s core. It’s thoroughly baked in. Policies might change, doctrines might change, but this understanding of authority isn’t going anywhere. And from the beginning, it’s been a recipe for abuse.
I value the spiritual experiences I had in the LDS church, and the times that it connected me to God despite everything. I value the people I met, the communities that made space for me, the priesthood leaders who genuinely cared. I will never not be Mormon, I don’t think. It’s too much a part of what formed me. But I am done with the institutional church. I submitted my resignation yesterday. (Yes, on April 6.)
I am feeling a lot of things. Both sadness and relief. I think back to my teenage self, who felt so secure in the confidence that God was micromanaging his One True Church, and I feel some wistfulness. But I keep finding that God is bigger than I’d imagined. So much bigger. And there is more breathing room in the world than I ever thought possible. This journey has been incredibly disorienting in some ways. It has completely changed my life. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“But I am done with the institutional church. I submitted my resignation yesterday.”
Wow, had some friends who left at the ban, but unaware of those because it was lifted.
Maybe you could join us who consider ourselves resigned from the Corporate side of the Church that brought such a ban, but fully engaged with the Gospel who invites all to come to Christ.
I hope that wherever you make your spiritual home, it brings you closer to your Mother and Father in Heaven.
jvp, to be clear, I didn’t leave because the ban was lifted. It was because the way it happened (never apologize; never explain) made me realize that the church is never going to take responsibility for anything. And I’m just tired. To be fair, though, I was already on my way out. This was a catalyst, perhaps, but far from the whole reason.
And thanks for the good wishes. I am fortunate to have landed in a spiritual home where I’m very happy. Best to you as well.
I love this, Lynnette. I love that you’ve found an actually affirming religion to be a part of. And I think your critiques are so spot on. I feel like every time I’ve seen infallibility discussed on the Bloggernacle, people will wave their hands and say, like you said, that it’s the misguided members who are wishing for infallible leaders and who are keeping this idea alive. But of course it’s not the members. It’s the leaders who will never accept responsibility and will never apologize, who will constantly drum the importance of absolute and unquestioning obedience into the membership, who are responsible. Once they claim that their every whim is a revelation from God’s very mouth, they’ve forfeited the right to be given a break.
I admire you for officially cutting ties. It seems very right to me, particularly now.
This really resonated with me. Thank you.
This powerfully describes the way that many people are feeling. Thanks. I wish you well on your journey.
Congratulations, and thank you for sharing.
Now you’re officially farther out than I am. =P
Its hard to leave a religious institution especially when that is the only one you have known growing up or otherwise most of your life. I think the Church Authorities have made many mistakes over the years, and yes they are human too. Seems these decisions are worse when they come out and they make the most unforgiving decisions. Seems they are making more and more and some I can no longer abide with. Seems some of them are too ridiculous and unreasonable to let go. The Church leaders want us to believe everything and when you start to have doubts they make you feel guilty. You have to dig down deep inside yourself and into your own spirit and find what is best for you. Know you are blessed and a good person in how you live your life. Separation is hard at first but there is a whole world of wonderful people and a wonderful life to live. Not everyone in the world is going to be a Mormon just to get into Heaven. I do believe Eternal life are in other Heavens and worlds if you believe God created these, and I believe we will go where we are comfortable and know we are loved by God, not just on all the good things you have ticked off on your “good girl” list! Lots of times in the past I have questioned the GA’s on what is really going on! I too have left the church many years ago. It just didn’t make much sense after I decided it was not for me. Live the best life you have and remember the Golden Rule to live by. I think you will always have the Holy Spirit to be with you when you need it. I read some of Betty Eadie’s books and they helped me. Wishing you well.
I couldn’t claim that my hurt at the hands of the church even compares, but this still resonates so deeply. Although i do still feel a connection to mormonism, the only thing that surprises me is how little I miss it.
Wishing you so much peace, and so much more than you can imagine!
I’m in a slightly different place on my spiritual journey, but so much of what you said here resonated with me.
Love to you Lynette. I’m glad you’ve found a new and good spiritual home and I hope you know we all care about you. I still think about bringing you Oreos whenever I pass by your old apartment (which happens a lot, since I go to the library a lot). <3
Thank you for your prompt. It resonated so deeply with me. I’m in a similar situation. Best wishes on your journey forward.
I understand that many people felt deeply hurt when the policy was in place. I wish people could know that the policy was helpful to some people. I think that makes it difficult for the church to apologize for something….when there might have been some results that were positive that the Lord directed or at least allowed to happen.
I know other families of LGBT+ were hurt, but some like me weren’t hurt and instead were helped by the existence of the policy.
I guess I trust God to teach me what I should learn, and respect your experience that God is teaching you what you need to learn. With 16 million members, we can’t realistically all have the same path. 16 million different journeys. Some of my children are adults and I see this now in ways I couldn’t understand when they were little.
Your ongoing story is a big part of the reason I sometimes lurk on the site. I’m so glad for you, and I wish you good luck!
Jks,
I’m so curious by your comment. How was your family helped? I’ve seen only rejection, despair, and many lives lost as a result of the POX. I honestly cannot see God’s hand in anything that has brought such heartache. I could not believe or accept a god who would put that into the world. I don’t mean to sound as though I’m doubting you; rather, going by my own observations and experiences of others I know.
If you feel like you could share at all, I’d like to hear!
Hi everyone,
I just wanted to share some thoughts and wanted to know you’re take on them.
About myself: From Europe, joined as an adult, former agnostic or even atheist(long time ago)
I took my time before joining the church. The first set of Elders broke of contact, because
they thought I wasn’t realy interested. They were right. I was interested in studying some
strange american cult not in finding truth. About a year later I developed a strong desire to
find “the truth” if there was any. At least I felt sure, that if there was any truth it could be found. I read the relevant part of the OT, the complete NT and started reading the BoM after that. When I started reading the BoM the Elder called me (nobody knew) and things were totally different from the first time. After studying the gospel for a few months I got baptized.
Since I had myfair share of experience before joining I never felt that there are things I need to experience as I find young people that grew up in church do. I went on a mission and very quickly realized the imperfections of missionaries and even MPs. Those were good experiences because I never expected perfection or anything close in church leadership. Such perfection would be far from anything that is found in the scriptures (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incident_at_Antioch). It might be true that church doesn’t apologize much, but nonetheless they do (https://www.deseretnews.com/article/695209359/LDS-Church-issues-apology-over-Mountain-Meadows.html). While I never felt church leaders are perfect, I always got the impression that they were humble and sincere men. I also observed on occasion that members (some in leadership positions) do not always behave exemplary. Well, neither do I. It’s a comfort to me, when others are just as human as I am – even if they rank higher up. I never was much of the superobedient type – rather a rebell by nature. Nothing wrong with obedience, but another observation is that at least a certain type of obidient member gets in trouble sooner or later. Anyway, as you all know Joseph didn’t always succeed either in all his endavours and I suppose we can assume he was superior to later prophets. In summarizing I wonder about those turning from the church, because there is an established pattern of prophets in the Lords church and I wonder where you get your leadership if you turn from that pattern? I’m not here to argue, just felt impressed to write a few words (usually don’t do that) and see what you have to say. Peace, Abe.
Lynnette–sending you love. I’ve been feeling much the same as you and for the same reasons. Enough that I planned to visit another church during General Conference. (Didn’t work out for silly kid reasons, not for lack of resolve.) May your journey lead you to a place of peace. And may I be right on your heels.
This is perfect. I am so excited to watch your spiritual journey continue to unfold and blossom.
May I humbly send my blessings and gratitude to you for sharing so much of yourself and your journey. I appreciate and cherish your narrative and making the decisions that bring you joy.
Thanks so much to everyone who has offered kindness and support. Lots of feelings about this, including more grief than I expected. I’m a bit raw and vulnerable right now. I imagine this will be a process. So the good wishes mean a lot.
Jks, I do try to take people at their word when they report their experiences, and if you say the policy was a positive for you, I’m quite open to believing that’s the case. Though I’d be curious to know if it was also positive for your LGTBQ family member. Regardless, given the variety of human situations, it seems like inevitably there would be places where even a policy that did a huge amount of damage overall might have some positive effects. That alone wouldn’t persuade me that it was worth the cost, but obviously it’s worth considering.
Abe, the “where will you go?” question is actually very settled for me. I converted to a tradition (Episcopal) that very much nourishes my connection to God, and where I have found a kind of religious happiness that I didn’t even know was possible. So I’m not terribly worried about being religiously adrift.