
It’s strange to think of the path that my spiritual journey has taken me in my life. I grew up as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As a teenager, my spiritual ego was inflated with pride by the messages I was taught. I was told that I was part of a chosen generation, set apart, and reserved for the last days. I was part of a religion that had unique secret truth. Only we had the answers to life and only in my church was there a fullness of gospel truth. All the world was in error, but I was blessed enough and favored by God to have access to prophetic church teachings. While people searched and wandered in spiritual circles, I had a straight path. I felt a sense of righteous certainty and was firm in my feelings that I actually knew that the church teachings I received were true. I would help to save others and even be part of Jesus’ army on mount Zion to combat false teachings and bring others to a correct way of thinking and believing.
While that messaging that I internalized helped me to feel special, it also stunted my spiritual growth. It caused me to internalize hierarchies and classify people. I was taught that I was among the most faithful spirits who lived with God before this life and that I fought in a heavenly war were Lucifer and his followers were eventually cast out of heaven. Because of my faithfulness, I was chosen by God before this life in a sort of divine-right-of-kings manner, to be born to a family where I was blessed enough to be part of God’s chosen tribal family. I viewed those outside the church as wandering and lost. By feeling deep in my bones that I had the truth, it also created barriers for real connection, curiosity, discovery, and learning. I had constructed a doctrinal box that limited my growth. Why would I question, or seek, or explore for something even better, if I was already certain that I had already found the ultimate spiritual pearl of great price on earth? Why would I ever even think about questioning the words of God’s prophets or apostles or think about leaving the box that I had created within myself? Why would I ever leave the certainty and righteousness that I felt? Why would I ever leave a church that had all the answers? I was taught that there was safety in the church and that only in the church was there a fullness of Christ’s gospel, priesthood power, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and all the spiritual gifts of Christ.
My testimony of the church was woven into my very being. I would testify to others that I was in the only true and living church that existed on the entire earth. I felt deep within my bones with all certainty that it was truer than true. I now see clearly that it was not pure and was largely illusion. Illusions within the mind are powerful things. Powerful minds can create powerful illusions. I like to think that I am a rational person and a critical thinker. I’m a scientist, an engineer, and an inventor. I have a Master’s degree in physics. I have an above average IQ. I like to think that I have at least an average EQ. I can tackle problems in novel ways that other people didn’t think of. And yet, for all my supposed critical thinking, I was still blind because of the limiting box that I put myself in. Only when I broke through and looked at the box from the outside, was it obvious that there was so much that was not real. While I think that I am a rational thinker, my mind was blocked by an emotional response to protect my internal identity and sense of self. If the church wasn’t what it claimed to be, then core aspects of my identity that I had been taught and woven into my core since birth were also built on a false foundation. To question the church would be to question my very identity. If the church was false, then my identity was also false. To deconstruct the church would be to deconstruct myself. It meant deconstructing my entire worldview and the universe within my mind. I had bound myself with covenants that intertwined my soul to the church, its doctrines, its belief system, and the LDS community. I had given everything, all my time, resources, tithing, and energies (emotional, mental, spiritual) to the church. To deconstruct and separate myself from the church meant that I would also lose my former self and acknowledge that my harvest did not bear the fruits I thought it would. It meant experiencing world shattering grief. My internal universe, my expectations, hopes, dreams, and vision that I had for myself and my family in this life and throughout the eternities came to a cataclysmic end. It was the end of the world within me. It was Noah’s flood for my soul.
There is grief and sadness when people leave their community. Humans are built for community. In ancient cultures one of the worst thing that could happen to a person would be for them to be shunned, rejected, cut off, excommunicated, and ostracized. Humans need each other for physical survival and to satisfy very real social and emotional needs. Leaving a high demand well integrated religious community has been likened to going through a divorce. There is a real relationship that is severed that results in sorrow even when that relationship was unhealthy. Even though the relationship is severed, it leaves a scar that is carried with a person for the rest of their life.
It’s strange to think of having a relationship with an institution that can’t really love me back. It is an abstract one-sided relationship and yet it still hurt psychologically and emotionally to separate because of the illusion that I had built in my mind. It’s worse than saying good bye to an imaginary friend. I suppose it is like a patriot saying good bye to their birth country that they once loved. It would be like Moroni saying good bye and mourning the once righteous Nephite nation. There is real grieving. While my relationship with the institutional LDS church is mostly severed, I have not severed my connection with the Latter-day Saint people. Unfortunately some relationships won’t be maintained if they only existed in church settings. Even though those relationships are not maintained I am not cutting people off and will be glad to see them when we encounter each other outside of church settings. If people want to be friends outside of the church, I am here for it. I plan to maintain those relationships that were real and not limited to church membership. I’m not trying to change their worldview. Pushing them out of the illusion risks pushing them into nihilism. Many members believe that there is no objective morality outside of the church, which is false. The only safe way out of the bubble for most people, is to break through the barrier by themselves.
For me, I broke through by following Jesus’ footsteps. Jesus led me out of the bubble into greater truth and greater morality than what the church, its leaders, or its members with the gift of the Holy Ghost could offer. If I had lived in Christ’s time, I hope that I would walk with Jesus rather than missing the mark by following rigid and harmful Pharisee rules even if it meant my excommunication from the synagogue and potential stoning. If I had lived in the late 1830’s, I hope that I would not have been fooled by religious charisma and that my rationale mind would temper emotional religious feelings. I hope that I would have seen clearly enough to recognize that Joseph Smith Jr. pivoted from swindling people on magical treasure digs leveraging their belief in spirits, to full religious manipulation with a buried golden book guarded by an angel. I hope that I would have seen through the claimed authority of religion backed by God to see that Joseph was swindling people’s money by setting up a fake Kirkland bank (an ‘anti-bank’) that was secured by fake gold. If I had lived in 1844, I hope that I would have had the courage to support the Nauvoo Expositor in non-violent protest as it exposed Joseph Smith’s polygamy, polyandry, and child-brides. If I had lived in 1849, I hope that I would have protested against the Mormon’s eradication of Native Americans based on a false doctrine that God had given the land to the Latter-day Saints. If I had lived in 1857, I hope that I would have had the courage to advocate for peace and vocally reject local church leaders who led the Mountain Meadow’s massacre. If I had lived during the early decades of the church, I hope that I would have had the courage to speak against the immorality of prophets using their religious authority to marry young teenage girls or girls much younger than them. (Joseph Smith – teenagers, Brigham Young – teenagers, John Taylor – a bride 50 years younger, Wilford Woodroof – teenager, Lorenzo Snow – teenager, Joseph F. Smith – teenager). If I had lived in the 1950’s I hope that I would have walked with Martin Luther King Jr. even if it meant that I would have been excommunicated for supporting full racial integration in society and within the church. If I had been a member then, I hope that I would have risen above the racism of LDS prophets, church doctrine, temple ceremonies with a black Satan, and my LDS community. If I had lived in the 1970’s I hope that I would have publicly rejected the blood oaths in the temple. In whatever time I live, I hope that I would have eventually risen above the doctrinal hierarchies in the church whether they be patriarchy, anti-feminism, polygamy, racism, xenophobia, anti-LGBTQ, religious superiority, or any other unholy teaching. However, I have lived most my life with a emotional, spiritual, and cognitive block where I looked past and had a blind spot for the moral failings in the church which were caused by LDS leaders pretending to speak for God on those matters. Examples include excusing all forms of nepotism by top church leaders in the church, the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) which found fraud by top church leaders, looking past anti-LGBTQ policies, doctrinal errors and a false narrative that produced the Proclamation to the Family, doctrinal contradictions by competing prophets in my life about promoting or rejecting the term ‘Mormon’, harmful patriarchy, a type of leader worship, welcoming abusers in hopes of their repentance more than protecting victims, abuse coverups to protect the name of the church, and many other examples. It has taken me too long to break through. It was taking Jesus’ teachings and example seriously that allowed me to see the beam in my own eye. It was in seriously studying about his life, that I learned Jesus was a feminist (one of the dangers that LDS apostles have warned against), a supporter of sexual minorities, and was against all forms of harmful hierarchies. Christ’s Kingdom was to turn the earthly social structures upside down. The greatest was to be the servant of all. Early Christians were mocked for being a religion for women and slaves. In Jesus’s day it was death to question the Sanhedrin. Today, excommunication comes from questioning church leaders, pointing out their mistakes, calling them to accountability, or getting ahead of the brethren and calling the community to repent and love others. The ongoing restoration of the church is actually better framed as dragging the church forward in spite of LDS prophets and apostles. Moral progress and change is only made as the church is shamed into doing what is right.
For me, I have chosen to seek after truth. I know that I have false beliefs. I want to know what those false beliefs are. I want to know the truth even if it is hard and means there is regret. Not everyone wants to know the truth. Not everyone wants their illusion broken. There is an entire mind and soul universe that can be shattered if one chooses truth over illusion. Some people genuinely don’t want to know the truth because of the sorrow it may cause and the deconstruction of their identity that will follow. They prefer to compartmentalize, ignore, and not look straight into the mirror of reality so that they can continue to live in their mind bubble. Illusions in some sense can almost be real. They produce real psychological and emotional experiences. Illusions can lead to real behavior. The mind makes it real and responds as if it were real. But ultimately, if our house is not built on the rock of reality, there is some part of the illusion that will eventually fail and produce bad fruit. Some people prefer to live in the garden of Eden, a paradise of the mind. It can be a good place to grow up. When I became of spiritual age in mid-life, I chose to eat the fruit of good and evil, the fruit of truth and illusion, have my eyes opened, see that I was naked, and step out of my bubble into harsh reality. There is fear, pain, suffering, and death in the real world. There are questions instead of the safe blanket of certainty. I can’t make the best decisions for my life if I don’t base those decisions on reality. It is not always safe outside the garden, but it is real.
I know that there are many layers to the onion. Because I have broken through one layer of illusion doesn’t mean that I’ve broken through them all. One of my core values is truth. I seek it even when it is hard and painful. I believe that to live in truth is ultimately a better way to exist that leads to real healing as I address the roots of real problems within myself. I can’t really grow and address internal problems, if I’m working off of internal illusions or choosing to not look at them. If I use mental gymnastics to excuse or justify bad doctrines, I will tie my soul in knots. If I choose illusion, then I won’t be able to grown beyond the box of illusion that I am in. I won’t really come to know myself and see myself with my inner eye. Likewise if I can’t acknowledge false and harmful religious beliefs that limit my goodness, I won’t be able to realize my full potential of the person I could become. Walking in Jesus’ footsteps has helped me to see more clearly and given me the moral strength to break through to be more free. I am waking up.
