The drama continues. We received a letter from our former Bishop, which suggested, among other things, that we have our names removed from the records of the Church (a sort of voluntary excommunication). I was also encouraged to not publish anything negative about the Church. The irony is that all we’ve wanted from our former leaders is some space to deal with our transition, and they have been unwilling to give us this breathing room.
Jana and I discussed for a long time whether or not to blog about this. Jana has decided not to, mostly because she cares and is hurt by the Bishop’s suggestion. I’ve decided to, partly because my membership matters less to me (it has meaning to me in that it is important to Jana), but mostly because I feel a responsibility to those of you in my community (and you know who you are). Secrecy gives these actions power. Exposing them gives us power. I’ve heard that this sort of action has become more common in the Church, partly to avoid the negative publicity that often surrounds church discipline of vocal dissidents (esp. the big E-word). In all fairness, I think it’s much kinder than holding a ‘disciplinary council.’
I have mixed feelings about this latest request from the bishop. I believe that he’s a good man. I feel that he is doing what he thinks is right. At the same time, I think that he is constrained by the Church institution to exercise what social power he has to limit my expression and to minimize my potential impact on others who are struggling within the Church. I think that this is where our ministries overlap and our interests clash.
I don’t feel any pressure, except from the Bishop, to remove my name from the rolls of the Church. We’re also not feeling any pressure from our Quaker meeting to join any time soon–quite the opposite. Although it’s left to the individual, the general feeling is that potential Quakers should be completely aware of the moral commitment they are entering when joining the Society of Friends, and the process seems to take years for most seekers. My experience of Mormonism is different: I entered Mormonism and even the temple without a knowledge of the sacred temple covenants; as a missionary I was taught to commit potential members to baptism before they learned anything about tithing, Mormon morality and dietary restrictions. Many blacks join the church each year without learning about its almost a century and a half history of denying priesthood and temple blessings to all Saints of African descent.
Speaking of the temple, they’ve also asked me to return my temple recommend (which I can’t seem to find–I may have accidentally returned it to the library as a bookmark…). What’s that all about?
I suspect that I will remove my name from the Church records at some point, but barring disciplinary action, I’ll do it in my own time, considering the feelings of my family members over the urgings of local Church leaders. Jana and I will also extend the option to our children as well, though we’ll encourage them to consider carefully and to take as much time as they’d like to make the choice for themselves.
Have any of you faced the decision to voluntarily ex yourselves? Did it come from your leaders or from your own desires? What factors entered into your choice?
53 responses so far ↓
1 Amber // Nov 13, 2006 at 10:00 am
This isn’t the question you asked, but I find it unfathomable that a church would extend itself so far into people’s private lives and would crowd them so much even in their decision to leave. Maybe it is because I have never been so involved in any organized religion? Or maybe Mormonism is just so overreaching… It seems too much to me.
2 Miko // Nov 13, 2006 at 11:15 am
One of my sisters told me to no longer take communion…which if I’d thought hard enough about it, I would’ve done, but I felt that it was important to act like I was still part of the church, for my parents’ sake. When I stopped taking communion, it took a while for me to be okay with even going to chruch at all. Now we have a tacit agreement that I will attend one church session per visit to my parents. They get to show me off to their old friends and I’ll sit through it. But only one. So that means if they want me to go to xmas mass, I don’t have to go to xmas vigil…which for my family, is a huge step. I guess this was really rambling, but yes, I felt like my sister was asking me to excommunicate myself by not taking communion. More because it would be singling me out when everyone else goes up to take it and I’m still sitting in the pew. ‘Course the first few times my husband went to mass, he took communion because he didn’t know any better…
3 Jonathan // Nov 13, 2006 at 11:56 am
John - I am definitely not part of the group you are writing to, but this issue of membership/excommunication was a huge one when I left my church, and I thought I’d share a tiny bit about it, and hopefully it will make you smile, that is, if you enjoy dark humor.
The church elders sat down and told us one day that not being a member was outright deliberate sin. My friend and I were appalled. We were already elected by the same eldership as lay leaders, teaching bible studies of 20+ people or more at our houses and preparing food for them every week out of our own pocket as well as taking a big part in the collage age ministry. I guess our tireless service and action year after year meant nothing, but a piece of paper written without any service at all means something? According to them I was ‘cursed.’ If I didn’t become a member as soon as possible, my leadership role (that they ironically gave me in the first place) would be revoked.
Needless to say, I left this church shortly after. The assistant pastor told me that if I was not a member of a church, I sure as hell needed a written consent form from the previous church I was a member of as a witness as to why I had left them, and it of course had to be under good reasons or else I would also be ‘cursed.’ I smiled and decided not to tell him that I was never a member of any church, so I would have a hard time producing said stupid paperwork.
When I did leave the church, the assistant pastor and I had a very angry conversation. He told me this action was a good punishment for me, and that I was going to hell. I bawled him out for that. I reminded him in a very condescending way that we were arguing about the interpretation of Jesus’ remarks about an immoral brother, and unless salvation is determined by having faith in his (the assistant pastor’s) interpretation of the Bible on any subject, I am most certainly not going to Hell by simply disagreeing with him.
And so began my excommunication. The same assistant pastor told my friend when he left that he wanted to know what church they were going to so he could contact that church and tell them that we were living in a cursed unrepentant state, and needed immediately to be brought back to his church were he could continue to deal out a healthy dose of punishment and public humiliation so that we can learn how to submit.
I remember asking him what his version of “punishment” involved, and he told me how he would make our sin public to everyone and strip us of our leadership publicly to show everyone how evil we were. I laughed in his face and told him I couldn’t wait - I’d look at my calendar to see when I could pencil it in, and I would be sure to invite my friends and family. I learned that day that being a pastor evidently doesn’t require intelligence, common sense, or being Christ-like at all, but just an arrogant, blindly-religious attitude. I was a jerk. I had had it with this idiotic religious crap and I couldn’t take it anymore. I called him up later and apologized to his answering machine for behaving so badly.
This whole thing of membership/ex-membership seems to me to be a religious/business devised thing that has no spiritual significance whatsoever, but (as I was told later) looks good on ‘the books’ since churches for some reason are now corporations and need lists of members and board members. Somehow, that strictly business model became ’spiritual’ and is required for salvation? Yeah sure.
In my experience, I don’t remember God requiring me to fill out the ‘Christian’ form in duplicate and mailing it to Him in heaven, and I would be one as soon as it was delivered and was on file. Why should a church act that way? Isn’t my ’spiritual’ membership confirmed by my actions? To me this written membership and ex-communication thing is just another aspect of ‘religion’ which I hate with a passion and will work hard to eradicate, at least in my little sphere of influence.
Well, I hope my story was at least a little funny. I’m sorry to hear that you are continuing to have problems here. I guess I am not too surprised, to this day (3 years later) I am still dealing with these same people from time to time.
4 John W. // Nov 13, 2006 at 12:57 pm
I am just catching up on the latest here. How very interesting that the bishop would ask you to remove your names on your own. He actually took me aside and spoke to me on Sunday, and said that he really just wanted to extend love and friendship to you guys (I think “love them back into the church” was the phrase he used). So how to interpret this move? Is this something that’s in the handbook about how to respond to apostatizing members? I don’t get it.
My only ongoing regret is that the Remys are no longer in church to help plant IIED (Improvised Intellectually Explosive Devices) into the lessons. I really valued John’s questions, always.
The funny thing is that over the past few weeks I’ve interjected some very liberal ideas into church discussions (My testimony, where I said, in effect, “shame on us for driving away the Remy’s with our faith in militarism”; or my song, performed at the ward music night, where I sang about how the Liahona is better than the iron rod because it’s more “flexible” and “ecumenical” and that many of us are more like Liahonas than Iron Rods; and yesterday, when I taught Sunday School, and argued that Mormons should not be supporting the State of Israel, and that we should be sensitive to the political needs of the Palestinians)—all of that, and the response from ward members has been nothing but positive. Everyone pats me on the back, and thanks me for my perspective. It’s really kind of unnerving how positive everyone is. Of course, it could be the political climate (who would have thought that the Dems would actually take control just two years after the 2004 election?). For example, in the Priesthood lesson, one of the more conservative members of our ward (I know because I was his home teacher) completely surprised me when he spent ten minutes discussing the inherent problems with the idea that the “ends justifies the means”–and he even connected it directly to the war in Iraq: “When this war started, I felt like, yeah, we’re America, so of course the ends justifies the means, but in preparing for this lesson, I’ve come to realize that that position is not very Christian.” All this without any prompting from me. (And no, I didn’t bring up Nephi’s head-chopping episode–I didn’t want to spoil the moment).
But I also suspect that people in church feel a kind of guilt that their closemindedness may have not only contributed (globally) to the political quagmire of our country’s military ventures, but affected (locally) the Remy’s decision to leave the church.
Anyway, I have no desire to leave the church just now (my work here is not yet finished). I only wish the Remys could be around to feel this openness too. I’m sure it won’t last forever, but if I can make some gains in the space allowed, I’m going to take it. Now, you could say, “how sad that such little gains are so much appreciated.” But you’ve got to start somewhere.
5 pilgrimgirl // Nov 13, 2006 at 1:17 pm
JohnW:
I suspect if we hadn’t received bishop’s letter just before Sunday that we would’ve attended Sunday School to hear your lesson. We were thrilled to know that you’re teaching now. Honestly, I was just too upset to go and deal with Mormons yesterday. I also got emotional at my Quaker Meeting and, for the first time spoke ungenerously about Mormonism. I’m not proud of that, and I wish I hadn’t been feeling so much hurt and anger in that moment.
That said, I don’t harbor ill will towards our ward leadership. I just wish they would understand that we want to be their friends but not their fellow ward members. Sigh.
6 John W. // Nov 13, 2006 at 2:08 pm
John:
I do think that leaving the church “without ill feelings” is perhaps your biggest challenge now. Of course, forgiveness is the goal, I mean, to forgive the church (without necessarily going back), and in my mind that means making a clear distinction between saying “It isn’t good for *me* to be a member of this church,” and saying “It isn’t good for *anyone* to be a member of this church.” That’s sort of hard to do. And in working through your explanations of why you left, I imagine the temptation is to ask yourself, “how could anyone possibly stay?” And when you start to ask that, you sort of lose some perspective I think.
I imagine there is an initial period when you just need space, and that it’s sort of like breaking up with a girl/boyfriend (i.e. to keep coming around feels awkward). So, I really understand.
May your change bring you peace rather than anger (no matter what the leaders do to you now).
7 pilgrimgirl // Nov 13, 2006 at 3:05 pm
I should clarify one thing about my earlier comment: I said that Sunday was the first time I spoke ungenerously about the church. What I meant was it’s the first time that I’ve spoken to my Quaker Friends ungenerously about the church. In other circles (primarily among other Mormons) I have criticized some of the LDS church’s policies rahter openly. However, this is also something that I’m also not proud of. I’m all for open discourse and its importance in creating change, but I want to me more careful about my intention in speaking out–I don’t want to do so from anger, but rather out of intolerance for injustice. I think there’s a big difference between the two.
8 Meg Slate // Nov 13, 2006 at 5:28 pm
I’ve been reading your journey with interest. My husband and I recently stopped going to church. He had a high profile calling and I played the organ, so we couldn’t just quietly slip away. We let our local leadership know that we’re “taking a break” with plans to reevaluate in six months. It looks more and more like Mormonism won’t be the path for us. We’ve had nothing but space and respect from the people here, to their credit.
Jana, it’s interesting to read your thoughts about intention in speaking out. I went through a period of feeling angry and frustrated, and I made the mistake of telling my friends about my issues. They felt like I was attacking their faith and trying to drag them away with me. The funny thing is, at the time I wasn’t really thinking of leaving. Now that I’m on sabbatical from Mormonism, I feel no anger toward it, and can view it much more generously.
9 nee // Nov 13, 2006 at 8:03 pm
I voluntarily removed my name. You can read about that in this post. Caution: I was pretty ticked off when I wrote that post because it took 8 months for me to get action on the removal.
I had to fight tooth and nail to make it happen. As such, I find it intriguing that you’d be encouraged to do so. Is your discord that well known in your ward circles?
Interesting that you bring up the temple recommend thing. I turned mine in within a few weeks of my last visit to the temple which was about a year ago. I started a post, which I’ve not finished, about what I’ve learned in the last year post temple, contrasted with the requirement of waiting a year before one can take out endowments.
Once I made the decision, it was very important to get my name removed from the records. Congruency has become quite valued by me over the last several years. If I don’t subscribe to the basic doctrine, I should not be on the record formally as being part of it. I can come back later and I’ve never closed off the door to what the future can hold in that regard.
I felt for myself as well as the active, believing members, it was the right thing to do, removing my name. That formal severing was important to me to align my actions with my beliefs (or lack thereof). I have attended meetings a few times in the last year since I made that request and it felt quite liberating to do so. I felt free - free to believe or not believe as I chose, and still free to fellowship but now without obligation. Also, it meant I released the church from their obligation to me. Since I no longer subscribe to the fundamental foundational beliefs, out of respect for them, it was important to break that formal tie.
10 nee // Nov 13, 2006 at 8:15 pm
On more thing, the only time I’ve heard of leadership asking people to resign their membership has been situations where they know if the person doesn’t voluntarily do it, there will have to be a disciplinary council. So if that is the case with you, I guess that answers my question about your discord being well known…?
11 Caroline // Nov 13, 2006 at 8:49 pm
John and Jana,
I’m so sorry to hear how things have devolved. I had actually been moving from an automatic distrust of hierarchy to a mild respect for our local leaders. I had been impressed by what I interpreted was a genuine and sincere concern for you.
But now I’m sad that they’ve played this hand. This is a move that pushes you away rather than opening up arms of friendship and love. Sad. And very strange considering John W’s experience of leaders yesterday saying that they want to ‘love you back into the church.’
12 John Dehlin // Nov 13, 2006 at 9:59 pm
I wish these men would realize (I hope they’re reading!) that they’re going to do 20x more harm than good by pushing ya’ll towards name removal or excommunication.
If they leave you alone, it seems like there is virtually no cost. Inactivity happens around 65-70% of the time. What’s the big deal? Yeah a few in your ward may be stirred up, but all that dies down in a few months, as the distance grows.
However, if they choose to push you out, at least 3 things happen…
1) They likely lose you forever
2) Their poor treatment of you leads to other defections as well (due to the large amount of respect people have for you both), and
3) They will bring much publicity to your situation that you otherwise wouldn’t likely have (as the media is brought into the fray–which they most definitely will be).
If they want to create the “Emmett Till” and “Rosa Parks” of the Bloggernacle…so be it. But it seems to me that they’re only poking themselves in the collective eye.
Won’t be the first time, of course.
13 Watt Mahoun // Nov 13, 2006 at 10:02 pm
There’s no way that the church is going to want to haul an otherwise virtuous husband and wife before a church court. You’ve given them no good/palatable reasons to discipline you, yet they know you are inexorable so the best possible solution for the church is that you voluntarily request the name removal.
I think you are the church’s worst nightmare. It’s stories like yours, where the only possible explanation is that very good and intelligent people might actually decide to leave, and with very good reason…unmarred by infidelity or anything that could be scapegoated. The only thing worse than having you leave is having you hang-around. So I’m not surprised at all.
Love to your family from mine.
14 John // Nov 13, 2006 at 11:01 pm
Amber, Miko, Jonathan–thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences. I’m always concerned that when I wax Mormon that I’ll bore or alienate some of you, so I’m thrilled that your comments were the first. Miko and Jonathan, I find the parallels (and surface differences) between our experiences fascinating and telling. Jonathan, I picture you (and Miko and Amber and Watt and my struggling LDS friends) when I write.
JW: I’m grateful for the
subterfugegood you’re able to inject into the Church. Your presence made mine bearable. Maybe you are educational Borat for make happy Mormonism!Regarding anger: I don’t feel anger towards the Church or its leaders. Maybe some frustration (thx, Miko), but no bitterness. I think I’ve worked most of that out of my system over the past few years. What I don’t feel is the need to pull punches. I’ll be congenial if I’m ever in a Churchy environment, but this blog is my skeptical turf. This is not a dogma-safe zone, and some will interpret my criticism as angry, arrogant and disrespectful. I’m okay with that, because I return much of the sentiment.
Meg, thank you for your insight. We too thought that creating space would lead to a more pleasant break-up.
15 John // Nov 13, 2006 at 11:16 pm
Nee, I am very interested in your journey, and I hope that you will continue to inform and advise ours. I feel your need for congruency, and this is actually the argument our bishop used to support his suggestion.
Caroline, we are as surprised as you are. Perhaps this reflects some policy, as John W. suggested. I like to think of it as an anomaly. I hope that it’s not based on one person’s desire to control or to lash out.
JD, thank you for the props. I agree that this sort of thing has the potential to lead to more harm than a patient, hands-off approach. But I don’t think we’re in any position to be the sort of high profile martyrs that you suggest.
I think that I’m with Watt. I can’t see anyone calling a court for what I’ve got up here. If the publicity of my (rather mild) critiques is an issue, calling a court would only draw more attention to the same. Neither I nor the Church want that. But if push comes to shove, I will speak out on principle.
16 Elise // Nov 13, 2006 at 11:21 pm
Thank you for letting it be written and for inspiring others to write. Your decision regarding whether to let your records be or to remove your name inspires me and makes me reflect on my own journey. I hope you choose the decision that brings you peace and creates love and togetherness for your family.
I’m so glad to read responses from active members who are, at the same time, supportive of your path and your search for happiness. I think that their responses are the most likely to foster a sense of empathy. Acceptance and understanding - in my opinion - is what will negate a sense of anger.
17 Elise // Nov 14, 2006 at 7:13 am
I originally had this posted on my own blog because it turned out to be so long, and now I’ve decided I’d rather have it here even though it takes a lot of space:
John and Jana,
I feel both sad for your loss and happy for the path that you are now embarking on – simply because it feels like you are taking a courageous step to live a distinctly chosen life, rather than a dictated one.
I have not shared my voluntarily-disaffiliation experience with very many people, but I feel that it would be respected in this environment……several years ago, as a young BYU student, I felt my spiritual growth was being stunted by the faith tradition I had been raised in. I had so many unanswered questions and so many doubts that – instead of being welcomed and worked through – were attacked by priesthood leaders as a sign of my weakness and lack of faith. They were anything but. I did my best, as a 19-year-old girl, to deal with the trauma of uncertainty and skepticism. I am not much older now, but I am old enough to be saddened and having to deal with so much opposition, disrespect, contempt, and downright scorning at such a young age. I felt like Hester Prynne in “The Scarlet Letter,” trying so hard to live with integrity and finding myself labeled as a sinner and outcast. In all fairness, this was the result of a human system failing me, and not God failing me; but the hurt I experienced felt as painful as being failed by God.
In the midst of this, a member of the church whom I loved, respected, and was very close to questioning my integrity – one of the values that I was most sensitive to and never wanted to violate. He was someone who’s opinion I very much respected and a person I looked up to. He said that if I really didn’t believe the foundations of Mormonism, I would remove my name – and if I didn’t remove my name, I was simply “blowing smoke” and “being rebellious.” Pondering this assault to my character was what led me to first consider voluntarily removing my name from the religious organization that I was trying so hard to reconcile my life and belief with. At the same time, I was being compelled to meet weekly with my bishop in order to maintain my full-time student status and being visited on a near-daily basis by concerned ward members, church leaders, and friends who wanted to see my soul in the celestial kingdom and were concerned with my spiritual being.
It was too much. I loved God and wanted to choose the right – and in response to the church member who challenged my integrity and the building pressure I was feeling from my peers, I decided removing my records was the quickest way to escape the misery I was feeling. It worked temporarily. The pressure I was feeling immediately vanished when my peers were forbidden to interact with me. The choice forced me to transfer to a state school that had no interest in my religion. It also deeply hurt the dear friend that challenged my integrity. I fear that he still guilts himself as the cause of my dissent into what he considers near outer darkness, but I hope that he realizes my decisions are my own and that my decisions (right or wrong) are not on his shoulders.
Since then, I have had to deal with feelings of abandoning my heritage. I do not believe all the tenets and foundations of Mormonism, but my voluntary disaffiliation sometimes feels like a voluntary detachment from my roots and my family. That realization is bitter tasting and makes me sad. At the same time, it makes me feel free – unattached and without owing responsibility to the people I once belonged to. It allows me to explore, discover, and learn without baggage and unnecessary responsibility.
And at the same time, I find my interactions to be mostly among Mormon people. I married someone who, despite different interpretations of God and religion and his family and background, is very similar to me in experiences. I find myself sitting in LDS institute on Wednesday nights. I find myself making friends with those of an LDS background. I find myself at a church service on Sundays that allows me to continue my associations with Mormonism as I explore my identity in a non-Mormon community. On my first visit to this church’s service, I found myself in a circle of two other Mormons, discussing my experiences in Utah and as a Mormon. I find myself missing Utah and longing to see the Christmas lights at Temple Square and discover again the satisfaction of interacting with people who, in spite of their inherent shortcomings, seem to have life and eternity figured out and are so sure of their destinies.
So am I one of them? Am I not? I don’t know what the simple answer is. But I am happy. And I am happily working on figuring out religious self and my life. I love a man. I love God. I love humanity. I love the LDS Church and, although formally removed, I feel a certain level of kinship that I can’t deny. I love people. I love the world. And I love the lessons I learn.
I love. That is the answer. And because I love, I know I will be alright in the end. I appreciate John’s ambition to treat the LDS Church with respect even as he leaves. I empathize with Jana’s sense of regret for expressing anger and negativity toward the church because I have felt the same remorse. It’s a delicate line to walk – recognizing injustice, erroneous actions, prejudice, and dishonesty in an organization that is deeply rooted in one’s heart and also envelops so much good. It is a line that few walk. I don’t wish it on very many people because it hurts to walk this line. But I am one of many that cannot help but walk that line. I recognize the hurt and the fear it instills on others when they see us walking the line, and appreciate those who respect our walk without walking it themselves. I do not regret my actions and I do not apologize. But I empathize and I love. And I love holding hands with others walking the line – it is the place where I feel the most alive and the most connected. Isn’t that what religion is all about?
18 pilgrimgirl // Nov 14, 2006 at 3:23 pm
Elise, I _really_ appreciate hearing your story. I feel for you, too, through all the difficulty and conflict that you’ve experienced as you’ve asked tough questions about the church.
Thank you _so_ much, too, for being our friend and sharing our journey with us!
19 Matt Thurston // Nov 14, 2006 at 5:36 pm
This is kind of bizarre. What reasons did your Bishop give for asking you to essentially excommunicate yourselves? Can you share any other details from the letter?
I’ve just never heard of this kind of approach, except in cases (i.e. the Toscanos, Mike Quinn, etc.) where the individual was publishing material that the Church felt threatened by. Otherwise, they just leave the names-on-the-records-of-the-Church thing up to individual. People go inactive all the time.
So is this about Mind on Fire? If so, it has got to be the first time a Blog was the impetus for excommunication (as oppossed to a book, speech, magazine article, etc.). Has your Bishop ever said anything about your Blog? Has he mentioned reading it before? Otherwise, I’m having a hard time accounting for his letter.
I agree with Watt, although I still can’t account for why a church court would be contemplated in the case of the Remys.
Strange. And very lame.
20 Matt Thurston // Nov 14, 2006 at 5:44 pm
Elise (#17), loved your story. Read it twice. In many ways you are lucky to have negotiated these rough waters at such a young age.
One minor question…
I had a hard time understanding the person who questioned your integrity. First, I didn’t understand why this person would question your integrity in the first place. Second, why you were not offended or hurt by such questioning. Third, why the person was hurt when you decided to essentially have integrity and follow your heart. And fourth, why your decision would bother the person since it (your integrity) was what he/she desired in the first place.
I’m sure the answer is neat and tidy, but I’m missing something.
21 Kaimi // Nov 14, 2006 at 5:46 pm
John,
Your bishop’s reaction makes me . . . I’m not sure. Sad, and annoyed.
I’m sad that the immediate impulse would be to push you both out. “So, you’d like to distance yourself a little . . . well, we’ll show you distance. Off with their heads!” (Best Alice in Wonderland voice). That just seems like such a wrongheaded approach. It’s counterproductive, from the orthodox standpoint, isn’t it? (Shouldn’t the concern be in making sure that you don’t wander too far, so that you eventually see the light?) And from a less orthodox view, well, it certainly doesn’t seem to be an approach that looks to your own needs or interests.
Ultimately, it seems like a guard-the-flock move. If you’re still a nominal member, but one who holds unorthodox ideas, then you are perceived as a threat to others; therefore, best that you be told to cut all ties. I suppose, if one accepts a number of premises (the fragility of orthodox Mormonism; the importance of retaining orthodox belief; your own irredeemability) then this conclusion makes sense. Reject any of those premises, though, and it’s a wrong move.
(Side note: Perhaps it’s really a game of chicken. That is, a move based on the idea that Name Removal is so frightening a prospect that mentioning it will bring you back to the fold. I hope that’s not the motivation — that would be pretty poor judgment).
What else?
I’m struck by how _Mormon_ of a response that is.
First, because it reminds me of similar reactions to my own experience blogging. Heaven knows, my own blogging never goes near the doctrinal third rails — I’m relatively circumspect. And yet, after one post — I don’t recall what about, I think it discussed Word of Wisdom history — one commenter wrote, “well, I guess if you feel that way, here’s a link to New Order Mormons.” And I was floored. Um, it’s okay to say “the Word of Wisdom was not followed, in its 1990s form, in the early days of the church” without resigning oneself to existence as a New Order Mormon (or even worse, a Sunstoner!
). But this commenter seemed ready to write me off, to categorize me as an “other,” to dismiss me. If I wasn’t staying within correlated bounds, I was clearly a New Order follower. (Insert “True Faith” joke here, I suppose).
Second, this strategy reflects the black-and-white, dichotomy approach that underlies some of the problems in church membership. One is either “one of us,” or absolutely not. This is both a matter of perception (Kaimi blogs about word of wisdom issues, he must be a New Order Mormon) and a normative principle (John chooses to reject certain doctrines; therefore, he is not allowed to define himself as Mormon).
It’s bullshit, of course. At the end of the day, each one of us decides these questions on our own. I decide what my relationship is to Mormonism, I decide what it means to my spirituality, and I’m not beholden to anyone else’s boxes or little Ven diagrams. The same goes for you, and Jana, and everyone else.
I suppose that my read of it underlies my annoyance. This move seems like an attempt to force you to accept certain dichotomies: Either you are, or you aren’t; Mormonism defines its relation to you, not vice versa.
22 JW // Nov 14, 2006 at 8:38 pm
John R:
I don’t know if I’d go as far as “Mormon Borat” (that hotel wrestling scene was enough to make me wish I was back in my holier-than-R days). But barring naked, corpulent, hairy, male wrestling, it seems rather apt. Still, I’d probably go for something more like the “Mormon Colbert” (or for calling my Gospel Doctrine lesson the “Mormon Daily Show”). Actually, it’s funny, I just read this article about Colbert in the New York magazine, and apparently he regularly attends the Catholic church, and even teaches Sunday School. Whether he’s in character or not, they didn’t say.
23 One of the sad and confused ones // Nov 14, 2006 at 8:41 pm
Isn’t it possible that your leaders were simply doing what they felt was the right thing to do? I don’t know what the policies might be (I believe you do put yourself at risk by being vocal in any public way, but I am not sure about handbook details on this), but it seems a little over the top to come around and blame or criticize them for doing what they think is best. You (understandably) want them to respect you and allow you to do what you think is best (even though they disagree with your choice); do they not deserve the same courtesy and respect and space?
Someone said above that this action could “lose you forever.” Surely you realize this can’t be the case. Their actions cannot determine what you will do as a result. Whatever you do, you must own it or it will not be genuine nor healthy for you. If you are simply “reacting,” then I can’t believe you will be fulfilled. This is all your choice and you simply can’t blame them or anyone for what you choose to do. I don’t think you would really want to, would you?
It makes me sad that what they did hurt you (and I would suspect it would make them sad, too), but it also makes me sad that their motives are being second-guessed (or just guessed about at all). I’m the type who would want to know, so I would consider asking what drove that decision (policy? personal feelings? concern for others in the ward? concern for you (in Mormon-speak, from a covenant responsibility point of view, this could be possible, couldn’t it?) Please try, for your own sake if for no other reason, to give them the benefit of the doubt on this one.
24 Elise // Nov 14, 2006 at 10:25 pm
Matt - I can tell you why I think the person (sorry I’m not being more specific - I want to maintain the privacy of who this person is). Personally, I think when this person challenged my integrity, he was trying to call my bluff. I was making some pretty mature claims - that I didn’t believe certain doctrines and that I had problems with certain practices - and I think this person tried to scare me into backing down a bit, so to speak. At the very least, I think he was trying to cause me to consider the very serious nature of what I was exploring and thinking about.
I wasn’t offended by his questioning, but I was hurt. And I did consider it seriously. In the end, I decided he had a valid point - I needed to take one stance or another. Since then, I’ve realized the situation was much more complex. It was not black and white, as he wanted me to think it was. I was more hurt when his response to my choice was less than postitive. I was more hurt to realize that he wasn’t as interested in me truly having integrity, but was more interested in tyring to “call my bluff” and trying to influence my actions.
Hmmm….I’ve reached question three and four and I’m not sure what the answer is. I’ll have to think about it some more.
25 Elise // Nov 14, 2006 at 10:33 pm
One of the sad and confused ones:
John specifically mentioned that he thinks his leaders are doing what they think is right. It doen’t feel to me like he is trying to attack their motives at all.j
My personal thought is that it is sad that churches (and I’m talking about Mormonism among many others) aren’t more constructive in their respone to criticism. I’d love to see a more democratic environment in religion that fosters questions and constructive change, rather than rejecting those that are - as Plato would put it - the gadflies of the community.
26 pilgrimgirl // Nov 14, 2006 at 10:53 pm
Matt: (#19) Our Bishop does read our blogs. I don’t have the letter in front of me, so I’m going on memory here…the bishop does condemn our blogging specifically [Note: the letter is addressed to both of us but at some point in the body it does seem to switch to addressing John only. For example, the bishop only asks for John’s temple recommend. I also don’t think there’s anything on my blog that critisizes Mormonism.] because John is criticizing LDS beliefs in a way that’s hurtful/harmful to those who have testimonies.
So I talked with John Dehlin this weekend and he affirmed that no one has yet been ‘disciplined’ for their blogwriting. I don’t suspect that we will be, either (at least I’ve got my fingers crossed on this, simply because I don’t relish the emotional turmoil of ecclesiastical censure–despite my disaffection with the LDS church). I think the bishop’s suggestion wasn’t necessarily a threat, but a strong request. However, the letter is rather ambiguous about what the consequences will be if we choose to continue blogging about Mormonism.
27 John // Nov 14, 2006 at 11:26 pm
Elise, what an experience! Jana and I have comforted each other by saying that things could be much worse, and your situation is a sad example. I admire your integrity in the face of the tremendous social pressure you must have felt at BYU, and agree with you that decisions like this are not black and white. Unfortunately, not everyone seems to appreciate ambiguity. I’m with Jana: I am grateful for your friendship and your example.
We really need to get together and talk!
Matt (and Jana–who’s sitting across the table from me) :), the exact quote is:
He’s not giving us a cease and desist. Just admonishing us. And he’s not mentioning the blog specifically, though we know it used to be of interest to some in ward leadership.
Off the top of my head, I haven’t really ‘published’ anything really negative elsewhere. I have been pretty critical of the church from a feminist perspective–it’s the one area I don’t feel a need to hold back.
28 John // Nov 14, 2006 at 11:49 pm
Kaimi, thanks for your analysis. It’s much more insightful and nuanced than my “it’s a power-play!” I’ve read somewhere that the ability to accept ambiguity and paradox is a sign of spiritual maturity (this could be wisdom or a cop-out). I’ve generally felt that preaching, esp. from the top, tends to be black or white, and pastoral concerns tend to allow for more ambiguity. Perhaps this is an exception. Or maybe it’s another attempt, like Elise’s friend, to call our bluff.
JW: The Mormon Colbert it is then. Not sure if the Church could handle the hairy naked antics. Someone really needs to YouTube a Mormon Daily Show!
Sad and Confused: As Elise pointed out, I do believe that they think that they’re doing what is right. But that doesn’t mean that the action is right. I think that I am doing the right thing by airing this out and leaving it Google-able on the public record for others who encounter the same problem with their bishops, but I’m sure that many would disagree with me.
I am curious though–if everyone is responsible for their own reaction, then would you consider it okay for me to post things that might cause others to lose their faith?
29 One of the sad and confused ones // Nov 15, 2006 at 1:04 am
All I was really pointing out is the irony: you are doing basically the same thing your leaders are doing, just in a different context…acting in line with accountability or consequences for actions that you think are not right, in an effort to do what you think is right. It’s a bit crazy, actually.
I am curious though–if everyone is responsible for their own reaction, then would you consider it okay for me to post things that might cause others to lose their faith?
It is clear that you think it’s okay, so I don’t know why you even ask that. But I’ll just say that I am sad that you are doing this, and if I were your leader I would be sad (I don’t know you and I’m sad) because I do think it could influence people in a way that I personally believe is harmful (to you and to others), but clearly what is “okay” to one is not to another.
30 Kaimi // Nov 15, 2006 at 3:53 am
The question of posting things that might cause another to lose faith is a really interesting one.
One possible reply, as outlined in John’s comment #28, is to assert that John isn’t responsible for the loss of faith of any third party, since we all make faith decisions on an individual level. I don’t find that argument to be particularly convincing (sorry, John). It seems clear to me that we _can_ engage in actions that are reasonably calculated to have some effect on others. If I know that John really reveres his father, and I know that this reverence is based on John’s belief in his father’s perfect integrity, and I also have proof that John’s father was a bank robber, and I then reveal that information to John — well, it seems reasonable to assume that it will lead to certain results (changes in John’s belief about hsi father), and I can’t entirely disclaim responsibility for those results simply by saying “I don’t control John’s thoughts.” Yes, John himself is involved in the change in that example, and only he can ultimately change his thoughts — on the other hand, it is well within my power to set out statements that are reasonably calculated to create some effect.
A second starting point that I’ll suggest is that it is wrong, on a spiritual level, to seek to make others unhappy — and that certain types of statements calculated to do so are themselves problematic. That is, I accept to some extent the idea set out by Alma when he first meets Korihor — he says, “Why do ye teach this people that there shall be no Christ, to interrupt their rejoicings?” (Alma 30:22). And I think there’s a good deal of truth to that approach. It is a sad thing, and often destructive, to interrupt the rejoicings of others. Everyone finds happiness and spiritual fulfillment in different ways, and some people will find their own spiritual needs best met through the structure of Mormonism. Given that base, it is hubristic to believe that all Mormons should be forced to trade in Mormonism for some other belief system. If Mormonism works to bring someone happiness and peace, then let her find it there. Deliberately raining on others’ parades and seeking to interrupt their rejoicing seems to be the height of assinine behavior. This may be what the commenter is worried about.
I think we can take judicial notice (as they say in legal circles — that is, accept as a given because it’s not really disputable) that there are some ex-Mormon assholes who engage in exactly that kind of behavior. If you spend any time in some online ex-Mormon forums, you’ll see a lot of triumphalist gloating. The sort of, “I told my TBM brother in law about polyandry and he was so shocked and didn’t know what to say” sort of thing, where the attitude is clearly “a thumb in the eye of anyone who believes.” And that strikes me as a childish, selfish sort of reaction.
(Side note: I really hate the use of labels like “TBM.” A few people who I know use these labels in relatively innocuous ways; however, it seems like the major use of those labels is to simply create another “other” who can be demonized, and against whom to assert the superiority of oneself and one’s own group and belief system. For my money, it is exactly that practice — excluding and demonizing the other — that represents the worst in Mormon culture. The practice of black-and-white, dichotomous thinking denies that we are all simply at different places on a belief continuum, perpetuates harmful and ill-fitting categories, and does so typically for the purpose of scoring cheap rhetorical points. The dichotomous demonization of the other has many of the same harmful effects, regardless of whether it is being used by a more orthodox Mormon criticizing “apostates” or by an ex-Mormon cricizing “TBMs.”)
So yes, certain people exist, who find some measure of pleasure in interrupting the rejoicing of others; that is, I would really hope, not a route to emulate.
On the other hand, we can also take judicial notice that at least some people engage in apparent criticisms of church doctrines or practices, without intending for these critiques to harm the faith of others, and in fact often with explicit stated intent that these critiques strengthen the faith of members. And we can also take notice that these critiques may themselves lead to salutary effects in church doctrine or culture. One easy example of this category is Armand Mauss. Armand’s publications were quite critical of certain church practices. Yet he made these within the context of his role as a faithful church member. His critiques ultimately contributed to a changing understanding by church members, and ultimaetly a richer and more accurate perception of certain historical and sociological issues.
So it strikes me that the initial criticism is probably based on some truth, but may also be overbroad. Yes, there are those who engage in the practice of loutishly interrupting the rejoicings of others, and much of that behavior is problematic. On the other hand, some criticisms of the church may avoid those problems, and may also bring broad benefits to church members. Clearly, we have yet another spectrum or continuum here. (Has Kaimi ever seen a continuum he didn’t like? The search continues . . . )
How do we determine the place on the continuum of any particular statement? Using the random ex-Mo asshole as one data point and Armand Mauss as another data point, it strikes me that there are a few major variables that probably determine one’s place on the continuum. One of these is a speaker’s motivation, and another is the reasonably calculated effects of her statements.
The motivations for potentially faith-harming statements can be varied. They may be made with a primary view of negatively affecting someone’s Mormonism. (This branch comes in various flavors as well — it can be an attempt to tear down the Momonism of someone who seems to draw peace and happiness from the tradition, or an attempt to create an escape route for someone who finds Mormonism painful.) Statements may be made out of pure self-discovery or academic interest. They may be made in order to strengthen testimonies — much of FARMS or FAIR could be viewed as potentially faith-harming. Statements could be made in an attempt to limit church practices that one views as inconsistent with church doctrine. (This comment is already way too long, but there’s a lot of unpacking to do in each of those categories.) And of course, there can be overlap between these categories.
The type of statement can also be varied. On the one hand are statements with no reasonably expected outcome other than negatively affecting one’s belief. The easy example is Ed Decker. The only reasonably intended outcome of those statements is loss of faith in Mormonism (though each reader will evaluate statements for herself; some apologists draw strength from the existence of Ed Decker, thus creating the opposite of the intended effect). On the opposite end of the spectrum are apologists. A statement by Jeff Lindsay or Dan Peterson has a clear intended effect of preserving faith. It may ultimately have the opposite effect, for various reasons. Some members may be shocked by relatively unknown historical facts, and so a FARMS review of Compton’s book may be a testimony shaker. Or, some members may find apologists to be too pugilistic in tone. Either way, they could have the opposite of their intended effect — but that does not change the fact that there is a clear, intended, faith-promoting effect.
In the middle may be people like Mike Quinn, Armand Mauss, Richard Bushman. Bushman’s book may lead to a richer, deeper understanding of Mormonism and of Joseph Smith’s life. On the other hand, it may prove shocking and testimony-shaking for some church members. The same goes for Compton, Quinn, Nibley, Arrington.
This comment is already waaaaay too long. (I ought to just bundle it up and turn it into a post at T&S.) Suffice to say that, on the level of application, I don’t find John’s comments particularly troubling. I don’t think that they’re being made with a motivation to put the thumb into the eye of believers. And I don’t think that they’re Decker-like in their potential effect (only faith-destroying). John’s story is one that affirms integrity, spirituality, and the need for each of us to seek our spiritual paths.
Ultimately, any statement about finding fulfillment outside of Mormon orthodoxy will be threatening to some members. Thus, John’s statements, although made in the context of self-exploration, academic discussion of doctrine, and positive affirmation of his own beliefs and spirituality, may ultimately interrupt the rejoicings of some. That will itself lead to differing potential effects. Some of those interrupted may find new cause for rejoicing, either in John’s writings or elsewhere. Others may not, and may never return to rejoicing; that potential effect is a sad consequence, and undoubtedly a reason to weep.
On the other hand, the act of silencing John’s affirmations is an interruption of his own rejoicing, and no less sad. And limiting John’s affirmations and discussions may also have the effect of limiting the rejoicing of others like him, who might find his statements to be a source of strength.
Because a discussion of the negative aspects of Mormonism carries with it the potential for interrupting the rejoicings of those who find their own spiritual strength in their Mormon faith, it is something which should be done with care and with respect, and never (I would hope) with in-your-face smugness. On the other hand, sincere discussion, motivated by factors other than tearing down others’ faith (such as a desire to affirm one’s own spiritual journey or build the beliefs of others with similar views) should not be categorically excluded, particularly if the speaker is making such statements with the requisite care, respect, and empathy.
Ultimately, it comes down to the golden rule. John should make statements that best harmonize his own beliefs with the counterfactual, “if I were one who found personal spiritual strength in Mormonism, would I find this comment hurtful?” And John’s critics should make statements that best harmonize their own beliefs with the counterfactual, “if I were one who found personal spiritual strength in the path John has taken, would I find this comment hurtful?”
(If you’ve read this far, congratulations! And I really hope that you didn’t find this comment to be hurtfully lengthy.)
31 Caroline // Nov 15, 2006 at 9:04 am
Kaimi,
Wow. Well said.
32 Nate Oman // Nov 15, 2006 at 9:56 am
Kaimi: Isn’t a central part of John’s persona here, however, that of the integrity of speech. He insists that there are certain things that he has a duty to say. The problem with your very nuanced exegesis of the Golden Rule here is that it doesn’t make sense of the need (expressed by John) for integrity of speech. In short, what should John — or anyone else — do when they feel a duty to say that which can be hurtful to others?
33 Matt Thurston // Nov 15, 2006 at 10:59 am
Kaimi (#30): I was right with you all the way down to the penultimate paragraph. Everything up to that point seemed headed towards the simple conclusion that it was a matter of 1.) tone, and 2.) integrity. And that NOT hurting someone’s faith is simply an impossible goal if human beings are to have open discourse on the subject, given our different individual points on the faith spectrum. [As you pointed out, even a discussion between two TBM’s (there’s that moniker again!), say between Richard Bushman and dear Sister Jones, has the potential of hurting someone’s faith.]
So if John (or anyone else) based their statements on “if I were one who found personal spiritual strength in Mormonism, would I find this comment hurtful?” then nothing could ever be said.
Therefore, not hurting someone’s faith is an impossible goal. (And I can think of several examples where it would actually be a desirable goal!)
But we can strive for a respectful, sensitive, nice tone, good manners, etc. Your examples — good (Mauss, Quinn, Compton, etc.) vs bad (Decker, etc.) — are instructive here.
And second, we can strive for personal integrity — saying the things we believe deep within our hearts, things we feel need to be said. (IOW, what Nate alludes to in #32). Our missionaries do it all over the world. Armand Mauss spoke from a place of integrity related to blacks and the Priesthood. Many others have spoken out on issues involving Gays and Mormonism. John (among others) has spoken out on Women’s issues.
If one follows those two “rules” and someone’s feelings or testimony is hurt, well… c’est la vie!
34 Matt Thurston // Nov 15, 2006 at 11:11 am
One other example… many GA’s basically quoted Korihor “Why do ye teach this people that there shall be no Christ, to interrupt their rejoicings?” to Juanita Brooks when she shone her light on MMM. Despite extreme pressure to silence her (both local and general), she was a model of what I’d call “good” tone and integrity.
I think Mind on Fire passes the tone/integrity test as well. I’d agree that many Outer Blogness Blogs do not pass the test, just as some apologetics fail to pass the test.
By the way, I loved everything else you said in your post and think it should be worked up into a T&S post. Well done!
35 Kaimi // Nov 15, 2006 at 11:29 am
Matt,
If you made it all the way through the comment, I have nothing to complain about.
(I suppose that’s the danger of 1500 word comments. You make one slip up around word 1450, and the whole thing’s gone to pot.)
But seriously, to address both you and Nate,
I don’t think that I was sufficiently clear in my Golden Rule paragraph. I’m not suggesting that John let concern for others overpower his own duties to himself and to his personal integrity. Rather, that John (and everyone else, for that matter) should consider the possibility that their actions will inflict spitirual harm on others, and should act in ways that recognize that possibility. Thus, I used the word “harmonize” in my original comment — ideally, it is a matter of harmonizing one’s own needs with the recognition of their potential effects on others.
This will be a balancing of some sort. (Yes, yet another continuum). On the one hand, one could act with complete disregard for the feelings of others; on the other hand, one could allow others’ sensibilities to trample and destroy her own ideas. The right balance between asserting one’s self and respecting the community is going to vary according to the situation, and different people will have different views on the appropriate balance — the important thing is recognizing that a balance is necessary, and trying to find that balance.
So I would recast your summary of my comment, ever so slightly. Yes, it’s largely about both tone and integrity. It’s also, I would add, about balance (or perhaps harmony). That is, a recognition that we _are_ all parts of communities. That our actions may impact others. And that, to the extent possible, we should harmonize our needs and expressions with the needs of others.
Harmony is not always possible; as you note (summarizing me, so it must be right), it is near impossible to make statements that will completely avoid hurting the faith of anyone anywhere. I’m not holding John (or anyone else) to the standard of not harming the faith of anyone anywhere. I’m just offering what is, I hope, a gentle reminder that we are all connected; that John’s actions will affect people in different communities (and not just “Mormons” as a mass but specific subsets like ward members, Exponent Mormons, Sunstoners, and so on); and that, to the extent possible, John (and everyone else, really) should try to act in a way that harmonizes individual needs and desires with recognition of (and minimization of, where possible) potential harms to others to whom he is linked.
36 John // Nov 15, 2006 at 12:59 pm
Kaimi and Matt, thanks for the
I want to add one more to your trio (tone, integrity, balance): context. I would never say these things in a Church setting. I only bring up critiques of the Church in person if I feel that the conversation is open to it. Because this is my web home, I feel that I have the prerogative to dictate the context for conversation. Here we discuss doubt and ambiguity and things that might undermine certain types of faith. I hope that those who feel threatened will recognize this and move on (I may try to make the visual cues and taglines reflect the content more).
I’m not sure I agree with Nate that integrity alone drives my need to speak–I also have a sense of duty to other doubters/skeptics who are embedded in religious communities but who feel isolated–that’s my context. I have a clear idea of my target audience, and for the most part it doesn’t include mainstream Mormons and rabid ex-Mormons. My intention is to complicate faith, complicate unbelief, to explore their intersection and to support those transitioning from certainty into ambiguity (esp. where a tight-knit faith community is involved).
I feel like the needs of this group are rarely acknowledged. They are treated like sick people, to be loved back to health or shunned lest one catch the same disease. I’m trying to correct the imbalance.
Speaking of imbalance, I need to post some stuff that’s not all about leaving Mormonism.
37 Matt Thurston // Nov 15, 2006 at 1:08 pm
Well said Kaimi and John. Agree with everything.
John Dehlin recently pointed out a wonderful new interview with Richard Dutcher at Christianity Today. It addresses the ideas we’re kicking around here. See: http://www.christianitytoday.com/movies/interviews/richarddutcher.html
Here is an excerpt:
Speaking of his Mormon-themed films, Richard says, “I recognize that I’m going to be constantly angering people. If I do something that depicts Mormons or Mormonism other than 100 percent positive, it’s going to offend a lot people. But if I portray Mormonism too positively, that’s going to offend a lot of people. I made peace long ago with the fact that whatever I do, I have to hold true to my own standard, trying to be honest to my own life experiences and philosophies, and to recognize that by doing that, I’m going to anger a lot of people. That’s just the way it is.”
I have to say that the honesty expressed by John Remy in these last few posts, and Richard Dutcher in the above referenced interview, have really put a spring in my step today. Thanks, guys.
38 Anonymous // Nov 15, 2006 at 2:18 pm
Forget integrity - what about sitting silently while people preach racism and sexism from the pulpit? Racist and sexist beliefs directly harm others. Speaking out against these harmful beliefs and practices is not just a matter of an individual’s subjective integrity.
39 Beijing // Nov 15, 2006 at 6:49 pm
In 2003, I needed space to work out my feelings toward the church. I had developed PTSD on my mission, and certain church experiences (personal interviews, in-home visits, some topics of talks and lessons) would trigger my symptoms, similar to the way someone who has PTSD from wartime may have their symptoms triggered by fireworks or violent movies. I needed a good long sabbatical from all church involvement (in addition to my therapy) in order to start healing. During that time, a particularly zealous home teacher kept ringing my doorbell early on Saturday mornings, despite my repeated verbal requests to him, to the EQP, and to the bishop asking for the visits to stop. Each visit would send me into a spiral of symptoms that would last for days, and the visits continued for months.
Eventually, I sent my bishop a very clear written request for “no contact” in hopes that it would have greater impact than my verbal requests. He wrote back by certified mail saying that he had consulted with the SP, and the bishop and SP were choosing to read my letter as a request for “name removal.” If I wanted to dispute their interpretation, he said I would need to come in to his office for an interview within 30 days. (Or I suppose I could have gone to the next level up of priesthood hierarchy and complained about being effectively excommunicated without a trial, or even an accusation of any excommunicable offense.) I knew that because of my ongoing symptoms, there was no way I could navigate an LDS interview situation with grace and poise. And I was not very hopeful that even if I did endure the interview (whether with bishop or next-level-above-SP) that there was going to be significantly more compassion toward my situation than had already been shown.
I called my mom and explained the situation. I was worried that it would stress her out to think that she was losing one of her children in the eternities. She said that the bishop would answer to God for this, and that God knew my heart and my actions and would put me in the kingdom I belonged in, despite the bishop’s action. I was reassured that she had found a way to work it out to her satisfaction. My dad takes the part about church records being the records of the kingdom of heaven a bit more literally, and put more of the blame on me for not arguing against the wrongful decision through proper priesthood channels all the way up to the First Presidency if need be. If there are any LDS lawyers who might know whether my dad can bring a claim against the bishop for unjustified loss of a daughter to near-outer darkness, or whether the statute of limitations has run on this situation…(just kidding)
A couple of months after the bishop’s letter, I received a letter from SLC saying I was no longer a member. I was somewhat surprised that what I felt was relief. My mind flooded with all of the hurt I had been through and then lightness and joy, knowing that I would not have to go through it anymore. About a month later, I experienced one more episode of the PTSD symptoms, and I haven’t had any since.
The Unitarian Universalists are doing a pretty good job as a religious community for me. And the bloggernacle is keeping me connected to my Mormon past in a fairly positive way.
40 John // Nov 16, 2006 at 12:14 am
Beijing, thank you for sharing your experience. I am sorry that it was such a traumatic one. Listening to yours and Elise’s stories make me wonder if it might be worth creating a web repository of such stories by thoughtful exMos (and near exMos). Leaving is always messy. The Church has the entering thing down, but sucks with the exiting business. I’m glad that you’ve found both real life and virtual communities, and I wish you the best.
41 The Sinister Porpoise // Nov 16, 2006 at 8:59 am
Hmmm… missed this blog. Will have to link to it from my own.
42 Matt aka Notamormon // Nov 16, 2006 at 1:53 pm
I regret now that I took so long to resign.
I found resigning a liberating and empowering act.
43 Oborosama // Nov 19, 2006 at 12:20 pm
Phew… I made it to the comment box at last.
I enjoyed the post and all of its comments. I think of my own situation with respect to the LDS Church. I am an intellectual non-believer whose name is still physically on the LDS Chruch(misplelling or freudian slip?) records. This is so out of deference to my wife, who continues activity in the church. It does trouble me though, that my exodus from mormonism is, in my mind, not finished. I don’t like having part of myself “splinched” (thank you J K Rowling) to mormonism. But, alas, such are the complexities of conscience and belief. I can live with it for now.
Having been raised in a home where inegrity was given lip service but cruelty and anger were valued higher than thoughtful discussion and respect, I definitely agree that how an idea is presented is paramount to healthy communication, but that the presentation no matter how well-fashioned, will none-the-less offend some people. So, in an effort to save power and preserve some measure of my environmental leanings intact, let me just say that “Je suis d’accord.”
44 Oborosama // Nov 19, 2006 at 12:26 pm
Ooops, erased an important sentence in my last comment. I meant to say that I agree that whether or not someone will be offended at an idea should not be the paramount consideration in presenting that idea.
45 paula // Nov 19, 2006 at 2:07 pm
John, and Jana, today there’s discussion on one email list that joining another church is now grounds for excommunication, in the new handbook. Of course, I can’t confirm that for you, but it’s something else to consider in this situation. They may be able to excommunicate you, if that’s the goal, just for becoming Quaker. (I haven’t read your blogs all the time, so am not sure how far along you are to officially making the change, and, frankly, not really sure how one does become officially Quaker. )
46 Miko // Nov 19, 2006 at 2:14 pm
One of my sisters recently told me that she hoped that I knew that she still prays that Alex & I will come “back” to the church (an interesting choice of words since only one of us was ever forced into it to begin with). While I understand the power of hope in someone’s life and prayer would certainly do me no harm, I kinda wish I could excommunicate myself. Not that I want to do something bad enough that they would have to hang me, but just call up the local bishop (in my case, I’d prolly have to go to the Abbot in Schrobenhausen) and say, “you know, just take me off the Official Register”. Being able to say with finality that one is done with a religion has a freedom that I would rather enjoy…
I don’t think you, John & Jana, should do this until you feel that you are ready to. And I don’t think that, when I first started leaving the church or even when I finally told my parents…or even when I moved in with my then-boyfriend, I was prepared to ask that my name be removed from some giant-book-of-Catholics, but I am now.
It’s like registering to vote: with Mormonism, when you move (as I understand it), you have to re-register in the new county (or equivilent-mormon-diocese); and, when you’re done being a democrat and want to change your registration to green, you stop getting mail from the democrats…and when it comes time to vote the libertarians just don’t bother, because you’re registered. K, maybe not the best analogy.
47 John // Nov 19, 2006 at 6:57 pm
Oborosama, I like that you left room for potential offense to be a consideration (by using ‘paramount’), but I agree wholeheartedly with you. Offense against cherished beliefs is a barrier religious apologists often hide behind.
Paula, after talking to my bishop and a couple of others in current leadership positions, I have the impression that membership in another church is not automatic grounds for excommunication (the way I think a federal conviction is). I’d be interested in hearing if you get a confirmation one way or another. I could see insistence on name removal from other religions being a significant detractor from proselytizing.
Miko: actually, I think that’s a great analogy, from both practical and ideological perspectives.
48 Miko // Nov 20, 2006 at 9:04 am
K, about to show ignorance about the Mormon faith: aren’t they the ones who baptise dead people? Couldn’t they just add you back in after you die…? and wouldn’t that be a better baptism than of someone who’d never even heard of Joseph Smith? If they’re so desperate for members (I’m sure that’s not the prevailing reason behind baptism of the dead), wouldn’t they want to hang onto your name in their book?
49 John // Nov 21, 2006 at 12:38 pm
Miko, good question, and I’m not sure that there’s a LDS consensus answer. I don’t know if there’s a policy for baptizing or not baptizing someone who took their name off the books. I can tell you that apostasy is considered worse than ignorance. And the LDS Church isn’t necessarily desperate for members–it works hard to recruit new ones, but it also has very strict requirements for membership. The kind of member they want to hold on to is more important than the number.
Baptism for the dead is half of Mormonism’s answer to the the problems of the universalist heresy. The idea is that a compassionate, all-powerful God wouldn’t let many of his children suffer in hell for all eternity. Those who did not have the chance to hear the gospel while alive have the opportunity to hear it as spirits and to receive the ordinance of baptism (and others) by a live proxy. Mormons who act as stand-ins for the dead generally don’t know if the dead person accepted the gospel or not–they perform it just in case.
The other half of the answer is that hell comes to an end, and that everyone will achieve some level of happiness in the eternities. The best people (good people who receive the required ordinances) achive the highest levels of glory.
50 Miko // Nov 21, 2006 at 5:30 pm
Yes, I looked up what would be an excommunicatable offence (for a Catholic): apostacy is one! w00t
51 John White // Nov 21, 2006 at 5:32 pm
My mind is totally blown.
Is there an emoticon for beaming love and comfort?
I just want to be totally clear that when I stand around dryly cracking jokes about not having any words of wisdom to help, that that’s my way of being supportive.
52 John // Nov 22, 2006 at 3:56 pm
Congrats, Miko! *high five*
John White, we love your clever wit (interspersed with nuggets of wisdom). We wouldn’t have it any other way.
53 Miko // Nov 25, 2006 at 3:01 pm
thank you, John…and John White, I always used “:}” to show a melty smile; that is to say, when my heart just melts, that’s the smile, sort of a wistful beaming…
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