The Family

Family is very important in the Mormon church. From a doctrinal standpoint, this makes a lot of sense. The essence of LDS theology is the belief that God is our Eternal Father, and that the purpose of this life is to prove ourselves worthy to become like him. Celestial marriage (what that means depends on which prophet you ask) is considered indispensable for salvation because the function of immortality--that is, being like God--is to create more worlds and populate them with one's spiritual offspring. (Naturally this necessitates polygamy in the Celestial Kingdom, but that is another issue entirely.) Since the purpose of this life is for all of Elohim's children to gain bodies and be tested for worthiness, the church teaches that everyone has the responsibility to assist in this plan by bringing as many spirits as possible into the world. That is the ostensible reason why Mormon families tend to be rather large, and why Mormons are encouraged to marry early and to have children as soon as possible after marriage. Many Mormons also believe that their families were constituted in the preexistence and that there are certain spirits who were meant to be in their families. It's common for members, especially women, to share stories of thinking at one point that they were done having children, but later realizing that there was still one or more spirits waiting to be a part of their family.

Because the family is so central to the LDS view of the very meaning of existence, the church places a great deal of emphasis on it. In 1995, the church issued a Proclamation on the Family that outlines the church's beliefs about the family and its role in this life and the next. Among other things, the Proclamation emphasizes traditional gender roles and sexual mores, as well as insisting that "God's commandment for his children to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force." 

In recent years, the church has been trying to enhance its image as a "family" church. It has always been adamantly opposed to homosexuality and gay marriage, and it has received a lot of press for this since its involvement in Prop 8. Nary a conference goes by without a veiled reference to "the family" being under attack. The current threat is the gay rights movement, but historically the church has also identified feminism and interracial marriage as threats to the family. 

All this leads one to ask what exactly the LDS church means when they talk about "the family" When they state from the pulpit that "the family" is "under attack," what do they mean? Personally, I find it rather absurd when the church says that marriage and family are under attack when in fact they are actively trying to deny marriage and family to LGBT people. It is obvious that not all families are created equal in the church's eyes--gay parents, single parents, and working mothers are all considered threats to their ideal. 

"Family" is a loaded word, and not just in the LDS church. Politics is peppered with references to "family values" and such. That's not surprising--humans are social creatures by nature, and one's family is one's first social network and plays a vital role in human development. We tend to have strong emotions about our families as a result. This makes "family," with all its emotional baggage, an ideal word for manipulation. A common technique that coercive organizations use is thought-stopping. One thought-stopping technique is to use loaded language that elicits knee-jerk responses rather than promoting rational discourse. "Family" in Mormon-speak is one of these words. It means more to a Mormon than the dictionary definitions that can include a family with a married heterosexual couple and their children as well as a childless married couple or a family with gay parents. Family for Mormons is not just a group of people who are joined together by love and commitment; it is also a set of ideas. I outline some of these below.

1. Mormons believe that the family was intended to be an eternal unit, and in order for this to happen one has to have certain ordinances performed in LDS temples. Only members can have these ordinances performed, and this means that the whole family must be Mormon. It means that if you are a member and single, you should only marry a member (and the church uses scare tactics and manipulation to convince people to do this). It means that if you are a convert, then you should convert your family as well. And it means that your most important priority in raising your children will be to keep them in the church. 
2. Because Mormons see the family as the instrument that executes God's plan, they believe that they have an obligation to marry early and to have many children starting as early as possible. I discussed this and the damage it causes in my previous blog post. 
3. Biologically speaking, only a male and a female can have children, and the LDS church makes much of this fact. Because having children is so central to their conception of existence--God's spirit children must be given bodies--the church defines family by these biological limitations. This is further fueled by the fact that the church subscribes to a very rigid view of gender and gender roles, insisting that children need both male and female parents. 
4. Because women who work are likely to have children later and to have fewer of them, the LDS church emphasizes a traditional family model with a working father and a stay-at-home mother. As many of my previous posts have indicated, I have serious beef with the role that this creates for women. There is more to a woman than her reproductive capacity, and her choices in life should not be circumscribed by that. 

In sum, "the family" as defined by the church is in fact shorthand for a Mormon, heterosexual, patriarchal, traditional family unit. Such a narrow definition, with its emphasis on superficial and non-universal criteria, causes more important considerations to take a backseat. The church does not like a definition of marriage or family based on mutual love and commitment because such a definition is not exclusive to heterosexuals. Such a clinical focus on the family as an offspring-producing unit is ultimately harmful to the family as an instrument of human association and affection. Gay couples cannot marry, foster children are denied stable homes, young adults are pressured into early and unwise marriages, and young married couples are pressured to have children when whey may not be able to afford them and may not even want them. It is ironic that a loaded word that relies on legitimate emotions about family and its meaning actually undermines those very emotions in order to reduce the family to a coercive tool. I find this to be deeply disturbing. I love my own family very much, and the fact that the church essentially reduces it to a political tool is very bothersome to me--and I am a child of heterosexual parents in a church-sanctioned marriage. How much more does that undermining of what "family" really means apply to people whose families do not fit the church's political ideal, but are families nonetheless?

Dick and Jane: or, The Marriage Trap

Meet Dick. Dick is a 21-year-old recently returned missionary. He was born and raised in the LDS church. He has been a valiant member of the church his whole life. He did well in school, advanced through the levels of the priesthood, graduated seminary with a nearly 100% attendance record, and served an honorable mission in Uganda. Dick does feel guilty because he can't seem to shake his masturbation habit and because he occasionally looks at pornography. Not very often--maybe once a month or so--so he rationalizes to himself that it's not a serious problem. But deep down he feels very guilty. He feels like he is betraying his priesthood and temple covenants.

On the whole, though, Dick is an ideal, squeaky-clean Mormon boy. He is returning for a second semester at BYU after he dutifully took two years away from his education for his mission. Although he only baptized four people while on his mission, he came away with a deep testimony of the gospel. He reads his well-worn scriptures daily and prays fervently. He is majoring in business at BYU (even though he'd much rather study physics) so that he will be able to provide for his future family. He serves in his student ward as a Sunday School teacher.

Dick's top priority right now, as per his former mission president's instructions, is to find a worthy young woman to be his eternal companion. He's been told by his bishop that it's his responsibility to date as much as he can. And so he does, looking for the girl who's meant to be his wife.

Meet Jane. Jane is a lovely girl. She worked her way through the Young Women program until she earned her medallion, graduated seminary with honors, and has a burning testimony of the gospel. Like Dick, she prays and reads her scriptures every day. She keeps her mind and body pure and innocent. She strongly believes that her greatest mission in life is to be a wife and mother--she can't wait to be a mommy. She's studying at BYU, but she hasn't declared a major yet. For one thing, she's hoping to be married soon, so she assumes that she doesn't need much in the way of higher education. And for another, she doesn't know what she would like to study, having focused all of her goals and dreams on her ideal of a fairytale wedding shortly followed by motherhood. She's taking light credit loads consisting of general studies supplemented by ballroom dancing and sewing classes. But although she does not devote much energy to her education, Jane is quite intelligent. She has an aptitude for math and a fascination with art (although she fastidiously avoids any paintings or statues of naked people). But because being a mother someday is so important to her, she devotes most of her time and energy to developing skills that will help her make a happy home. She loves the social life at BYU with all the handsome returned missionaries who seem so much nicer than the non-Mormon boys she knew in high school outside of Utah. She's had a series of boyfriends, but has lately begun to doubt herself because none of her relationships led to marriage. As a result, she immediately latches on to any man who expresses interest in her, convinced that this, at last, is "the one."

Dick and Jane meet when they are assigned to the same FHE group one semester. They start dating a few weeks into the semester. As with all her previous relationships, Jane hopes that this one will lead to a date at the temple. She enjoys planning not-so-hypothetical weddings with her roommates and browsing rings and dresses online. Dick, while still feeling unworthy because of his masturbation problem, is delighted to have found a special daughter of God, and he redoubles his efforts to keep himself pure for her. He slips up sometimes, but he is trying.

By Thanksgiving Dick and Jane are getting serious about each other. Jane has high hopes that Dick will propose any day. Dick is having a difficult time restraining himself sexually. They have very strong feelings for each other and are convinced that they are in love. Everyone around them is happy for them, and roommates are beginning to ask when the engagement will be. Reading a recent General Conference talk encouraging young adults, especially young men, not to hold off on marriage serves as the final push for Dick to propose to Jane just before the Christmas break.

After the engagement, Dick and Jane are showered with congratulations and well-wishes. They become stereotypical lovebirds--cooing at each other, playing with each others' hair, and generally being oblivious to everyone else around them (and rather annoying both sets of roommates). Their conversations consist primarily of flirting and wedding plans. After a long six months and several close calls with the Law of Chastity, the two are married in the Salt Lake Temple.

The first few months are divine. Dick and Jane are passionately in love with each other. Jane quits school and takes a job to help pay for Dick's tuition. She stops working, however, when after less than a year of marriage she finds that she is pregnant. Both she and Dick are overjoyed, but Jane especially is ecstatic because she is now beginning to fulfill her divine role as a woman.

More children follow, and soon it becomes apparent to both that married life is not the fairytale that they always thought it was. Jane's time is taken up with her growing number of children and they rarely have time alone together. When they are able to spend time together, they find that they have little to talk about. Dick has returned to his pornography habit to fill the emotional and sexual void created when the magic of his relationship with Jane faded. Jane wonders why her husband does not love her anymore--if he did love her, then obviously he wouldn't be seeking solace in the nasty videos that he watches when he thinks she's asleep. Jane invests herself more and more in her children, Dick more and more in his work. Dick is unhappy at a job that he finds boring and unstimulating, although it does provide well for his large family. Although she will never admit it to herself, Jane is unhappy with her life as well. Shortly after her youngest child begins school, she becomes seriously depressed and her doctor prescribes Prozac. To a casual observer, Dick and Jane have a wonderful life and a happy family. But both partners wonder if they're doing something wrong in their marriage that is keeping them from the happiness that they were promised.

---

Dick and Jane's story, while obviously fictional in this case, is one that repeats itself many times over in the Mormon church. Men and especially women are taught that having a family is the most important thing they will ever do in life--that it is a divine calling. It is common for returning missionaries to be told by their mission presidents that their next responsibility is to find a wife as soon as possible. Women are regularly taught in church that marriage and children are the most important priorities in their lives. Both are encouraged to interpret their feelings as "promptings of the Spirit," and they consequently mistake early infatuation with a relationship for the Spirit telling them that they have found the one that they are meant to be with for eternity. The increasing sexual tension in the relationship compounded with the expected abstinence prior to marriage places additional pressure on the couple to marry as soon as possible so that they can keep themselves "pure." As a result, it is extraordinarily common for Mormons to marry quite young and after dating only for a short period of time. After marrying and having children right away, many of these couples find that they have little in common besides the church. They may become depressed or feel like they are not righteous enough. Obviously this isn't the case all the time; sometimes couples get lucky, and some have enough presence of mind to avoid rushing into a marriage and children with someone they've only known for a few months. But it happens more than it should, and it is a direct result of the church's harmful teachings.

I've heard it argued that the church does not actually pressure its members into early marriage and children. But consider, for example, the oft-quoted Family Proclamation's statement that "God’s commandment for His children to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force." This little quote is often cited in church lessons and BYU devotionals to urge the faithful to reproduce early and often. LDS prophets and other church leaders have made clear there insistence on this matter. In a 1987 General Conference address entitled "To the Fathers in Israel," Ezra Taft Benson quoted Spencer W. Kimball as he urged young couples not to wait to have children:

 "I have told tens of thousands of young folks that when they marry they should not wait for children until they have finished their schooling and financial desires. … They should live together normally and let the children come."

In the April 2011 General Conference, both Thomas S. Monson and Richard G. Scott urged young adults to marry. In "The Eternal Blessings of Marriage", Scott said, "If you are a young man of appropriate age and are not married, don’t waste time in idle pursuits. Get on with life and focus on getting married." In his address entitled "Priesthood Power," Monson, the man who speaks for God, scolded young men who postponed marriage:

"Now, I have thought a lot lately about you young men who are of an age to marry but who have not yet felt to do so. I see lovely young ladies who desire to be married and to raise families, and yet their opportunities are limited because so many young men are postponing marriage.

This is not a new situation. Much has been said concerning this matter by past Presidents of the Church. I share with you just one or two examples of their counsel.

Said President Harold B. Lee, 'We are not doing our duty as holders of the priesthood when we go beyond the marriageable age and withhold ourselves from an honorable marriage to these lovely women.'"

Monson then went on to urge unmarried men not to worry about financial considerations such as how to take care of a wife (as if women are incapable of taking care of themselves!) and to suggest that young men are simply "having a little too much fun being single." It is clear that the church puts an extraordinary amount of pressure on young adults to marry and produce offspring, and young members like Dick and Jane are the victims. People rush into marriage and children under the direction of church authorities and then wonder why they are not happy.

All the answers

I have a lot of childhood memories of my mom teaching me. Even though I've rejected the religion she raised me in, I will always be grateful to her for her teaching. She taught me to love learning, to ask questions, and to think my own thoughts. I have several memories of her helping me with math homework. Several times I tried to get her to just give me the answers to the problems I was trying to solve. Like any good teacher, she refused, insisting, "you have to figure out the answer for yourself."

When I stopped believing in the church, the most devastating thing for me was the realization that I didn't have answers anymore. Worries about the the afterlife and how to tell my family of my apostasy were frightening, but the most terrifying thing of all was the realization that where I thought I had knowledge, I had only ignorance. My recurring thought during the month leading up to my final epiphany was that the rug had been pulled out from underneath my feet. I felt like a cartoon character who, after rushing off a cliff, looks down and realizes that there is nothing beneath him.

Not having answers is scary, especially when it comes to big questions like the meaning of life and what happens when we die. Mormonism gave me very neat and sensible answers. Leaving Mormonism meant leaving the answers. But I still wanted easy answers. I realized almost immediately that there probably wasn't a god, but I held on to the idea of him for more than half a year. I wanted him to exist and I wanted him to give me answers. I kept praying, sometimes desperately. I wanted so very much for there to be a wise, all-knowing being who loved me and had my back. But more than that, I wanted answers--solid, sure, indubitable answers.

Those answers never came. When I finally realized what I'd known all along, that pleading with the silence was not doing me any good, I had to accept that there was no cosmic authority figure who would tell me the answers. I had to figure things out on my own, I knew that I was fallible. Life doesn't have an answer key like my math book did. And I wouldn't have it any other way. As my mother taught me when she refused to tell the answer to that long division problem, the point isn't knowing what the answer is. It's knowing how to think for yourself--because when you think for yourself, the answers you find are really yours.

Faith Walk

I loved girl's camp as a teenager. By girls' camp, I don't mean Girl Scouts--the LDS church does a knockoff version as a part of the YW program. In many ways, it's a lot like a regular summer camp. We had hikes, slept in tents or cabins, did crafts, roasted marshmallows, and went swimming. But it was more than just a regular summer camp; its primary function was to strengthen the testimonies of the attendees.

There were lots of reasons why I loved girls' camp. I've always loved camping, and I enjoyed spending the time with my friends. I loved the campfires and the goofy songs. I loved the late nights and the early mornings; we ran on sugar and goofball-ness instead of sleep. And the best part of girls camp was the "spiritual high," as we called it, that camp induced and that lingered for weeks afterwards.

In retrospect I feel profoundly manipulated by girls' camp. It was a tradition that every year on the last night of camp we would have some kind of huge activity meant to bring "the spirit" and strengthen our testimonies, followed by a testimony meeting. This activity could take various forms from year to year, but the most frequent version was a "faith walk."

It always started in the evening, an hour or so before sunset. It was the end of the week, so we were all exhausted from sleep deprivation and usual camp activities. Most years they built up to the final activity throughout the week. One year especially stands out in my memory.

This year, they spent the week giving little devotionals on various aspects of the gospel--repentance, exaltation, prayer, etc. Then on the last night of camp, they gathered all the girls together and then had us sing hymns while we waited. They guided us off in small groups of three or four, and we went on a short hike. We were instructed to be very quiet and not goof off with each other. At designated places along the trail, leaders quizzed us on the concepts we'd been learning about throughout the week. Our final destination was a section of trail that had been blocked off with a sheet. Here we were blindfolded and taken behind the sheet, and our hands were placed on a PVC pipe rod about four feet above the ground. We walked blindfolded down the trail using the rod to guide ourselves. The only sound was the sinister-sounding whispering of leaders playing the part of devils tempting us away from the rod. They would come up to us individually and whisper in our ears. It was not difficult for me to realize what the simulation was supposed to be teaching, and so I closed down my ears and pressed forward. However, I was nearly to the end when a voice told me that I had reached the end of the rod. I let go, and was immediately escorted to the beginning of the rod. This time I was determined not to let go, and I successfully made it to the end of the rod and my blindfold was removed.

The sight that greeted me is burned into my memory. I was in an outdoor amphitheater in the forest. The sun had set, and the amphitheater was lit by thousands of white Christmas lights and a small potted tree set up on the stage, also bedecked with white lights and hung with miniature portraits of Jesus. All the leaders were dressed in white. Since I was part of one of the first groups to start the walk, the amphitheater was mostly empty. I sat with a few other girls from my ward and waited for the rest of the girls to finish the walk. A boom box was playing hymns, and one of my friends next to me was sobbing.

After all the girls had made it to the amphitheater, there was a short devotional accompanied by some hymn singing, and we made our way back to our cabins as individual ward units. Everyone was very quiet and subdued as we walked back, and several girls were still crying. It was now completely dark.

After we had gathered around our ward campfire, our bishop gave us a brief talk and bore his testimony, and then opened the gathering for testimony bearing. All the girls bore their testimonies, and nearly all of us cried. I remember one girl who initially refused to bear her testimony, but she eventually caved under pressure--all of us sitting near her were whispering to her to go up. At the conclusion of the testimony bearing, a prayer was offered and we went to bed. That year we were sleeping in cabins, and we pulled our mattresses off of our bunks and into the middle of the floor. We fell asleep exhausted and tear-stained.

This exercise was repeated every year I was at girls camp, with variations on the specifics. Not every year involved a makeshift iron rod, but every single year we had a closing testimony meeting with intense pressure on every girl to bear her testimony. One year that we did do the iron rod simulation, the rod was a long rope. We were blindfolded as usual and led around the camp area. When the simulation was over, we removed our blindfolds but we did not let go of the rope. Instead, we carried it with us back to our campsite and continued clutching it as we sat in a large circle. We had learned our lesson: never let go.

Modesty

When I was in Young Women, modesty was easily one of the biggest things that leaders emphasized. The church has pretty specific standards for clothing, especially for girls. The church's handbook for youth, For the Strength of Youth, says this:

Immodest clothing includes short shorts and skirts, tight clothing, shirts that do not cover the stomach, and other revealing attire. Young women should wear clothing that covers the shoulder and avoid clothing that is low-cut in the front or the back or revealing in any other manner. Young men should also maintain modesty in their appearance. All should avoid extremes in clothing, appearance, and hairstyle. Always be neat and clean and avoid being sloppy or inappropriately casual in dress, grooming, and manners. Ask yourself, “Would I feel comfortable with my appearance if I were in the Lord’s presence?”
...
Do not disfigure yourself with tattoos or body piercings. If girls or women desire to have their ears pierced, they are encouraged to wear only one pair of modest earrings. [Source] 

As a teenager, I was meticulous in following these standards. I always made sure that my clothes had sleeves, that my necklines weren't too low, that my skirts and shorts came at least to my knees and that no skin showed between my neck and my knees.

If you noticed, the most stringent standards in the quoted paragraph apply to young women. The young men have standards as well, but they are very different. For example, the young men in my ward often took their shirts off to play basketball in the gym. On the other hand, though, they didn't get to wear earrings, so I guess it came out even.

The way I see it now, these standards are primarily a mechanism of control. They are arbitrary. I point to the earrings standards as a perfect example. Why are multiple sets of earrings bad? Why are men not allowed to have any? Is it because punching holes in your earlobes is bad? Why, then are women allowed to have them at all? On the other hand, if it's okay to punch holes in your ears, why on earth does it matter how many you have?

Turns out I'm right. In the spring of 2005, David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles related the following story in a BYU devotional, which was subsequently published in the Ensign:

Sister Bednar and I are acquainted with a returned missionary who had dated a special young woman for a period of time. He cared for her very much, and he was desirous of making his relationship with her more serious. He was considering and hoping for engagement and marriage. This relationship was developing during the time that President Hinckley counseled the Relief Society sisters and young women of the Church to wear only one earring in each ear. 

The young man waited patiently over a period of time for the young woman to remove her extra earrings, but she did not take them out. This was a valuable piece of information for this young man, and he felt unsettled about her nonresponsiveness to a prophet’s pleading. For this and other reasons, he ultimately stopped dating the young woman, because he was looking for an eternal companion who had the courage to promptly and quietly obey the counsel of the prophet in all things and at all times. The young man was quick to observe that the young woman was not quick to observe. 

I presume that some of you might have difficulty with my last example. You may believe the young man was too judgmental or that basing an eternally important decision, even in part, upon such a supposedly minor issue is silly or fanatical. Perhaps you are bothered because the example focuses upon a young woman who failed to respond to prophetic counsel instead of upon a young man. I simply invite you to consider and ponder the power of being quick to observe and what was actually observed in the case I just described. The issue was not earrings! [Source]

Let me repeat that last sentence. The issue was not earrings. The issue was obedience. Setting aside the fact that this man wanted an obedient wife makes me see red, Elder Bednar has here plainly admitted that the standards of the church with respect to personal appearance don't exist for moral or even practical reasons, but for the sake of obedience. The important thing is not to think and make rational decisions, but to follow the "counsel" of church leaders.

Another dimension of the modesty issue that I find bothersome is the fact that it's so repressive. It is one element of a wide variety of aspects of Mormonism that repress sexuality in both men and women. Like it or not, human beings are sexual creatures. That's how we reproduce, and it's a pretty important part of what makes us human. Mormonism in general has a very unhealthy attitude towards sex. It's considered to be a good thing if you're married, but evil and bad if you're not. So it's very important for members to keep their sexuality within carefully prescribed boundaries. Modesty is a part of that. In my own case, it created a strange distance between myself and my own body. Just like I tried my hardest--and generally successfully--never to think about sex or anything sex-related, I was very good at ignoring the sexual dimension of my own body. I think that is very harmful.

A final thing that bothers me about the Mormon concept of modesty is the fact that, yet again, it takes control and autonomy away from the individual and replaces it with blind trust in authority, even if that authority issues arbitrary rules that make no real sense (like the earring example that Bednar so eloquently illustrated). This is one of the most harmful aspects of Mormonism in my view. They claim that agency and choice are fundamental aspects of their religion, but it really boils down to choice between being obedient and thinking for yourself, with the only "right" choice being obedience. The way I see it, that isn't really a choice at all.

Double Bind

I remember my mom saying that one of her worst fears was that one of her children would leave the church. At the time, I was sure she had nothing to worry about on that score. I believed in the church with all my heart; for one thing, I'd never known anything else, and for another, I was convinced that it made sense. Sure, I'd had moments of cognitive dissonance with polygamy and misogyny and racism, but they were quickly suppressed. I had learned at an early age that whenever I found something about the church that bothered me, the thing to do was "put it on the shelf" and trust that I would find answers eventually. The idea that I might leave the church one day was inconceivable.

When I did realize that the church wasn't true, the scariest part about the whole thing was the prospect of telling my parents. I knew they would be devastated. I considered never telling them, and just pretending to believe for the rest of my life, but that was a losing proposition from the start. I hate pretending to be something I'm not. For the record, they don't know yet as of this writing. I won't be telling them for awhile for various reasons, but I have plans to do so as soon as it's feasible. But I have absolutely no intention of  pretending for the rest of my life. 

But this dilemma of mine made me realize shortly after I stopped believing that the church was not a benign organization. A healthy organization would not cause a mother to feel that she's failed at parenting if her daughter leaves the church. A healthy organization would not cause someone's "worst fear" to be that a loved one would leave. That is manipulative and evil. 

The church uses family members to create a double bind on apostates. We are faced with a choice between pretending to believe something we don't, or devastating our families. That is not healthy. It is a giveaway sign of a cult. An honest organization does not need to rely on guilt and fear to keep people in. An honest organization can take criticism. 

From a believing Mormon's perspective, there is no legitimate reason to leave the church, ever. Members are taught that people "apostatize" because they have been offended somehow, because they wanted to sin, because they were spiritually weak, or because they were prideful. Ironically, the church actively tries to persuade potential converts to leave their own churches, even if this means disappointing their families. I have heard dozens of converts tell stories about their families being angry with them, being sad, or even disowning them because they joined the LDS church. And the church glorifies these people for their fortitude. But when the situation is reversed--when someone who is already a member leaves the church--they are vilified and judged. 

According to the church, apostates cannot be happier outside of the church than they were in it. People are taught to fear and vilify apostates, and when a loved one apostatizes the believing member is left with an awful choice. Either they must view their loved one as having "fallen from grace," so to speak, or else they must somehow accept that their husband, wife, son, daughter, brother, or sister had a legitimate reason to leave. Like the apostate, the believing member is placed in a painful double bind. It is disgusting to me that the church manipulates and coerces its members in this way. There is nothing of good report or praiseworthy about it. And as members become apostates in increasing numbers, the problem is only going to get worse. 

As I said above, the church's attitude towards people who leave it is one of the major reasons why I consider it to be a harmful and coercive organization. Families are forever, but only if everyone toes the line. The church uses fear and guilt to manipulate its members, and that is wrong. 

Standing for Truth and Righteousness

The Young Women motto is "stand for truth and righteousness." When I was in Young Women, my group had a tradition on Sundays that during opening exercises, we would have a period of time during which anyone could get up and share with the class how they had "stood for truth and righteousness" during the week. Usually the girls who got up would get a small piece of candy as a reward. At the time I thought nothing of this tradition, but looking back it disturbs me.

The things that girls would share as "standing for truth and righteousness" varied widely, but they most commonly involved being Mormon in a profane world. Many of the girls in my group were in choirs or plays at school, and it was common every few weeks for these girls to share that they had altered their performance dress with sleeves and a higher neckline or that they had refused to say a petty swear word such as "damn" as part of their lines in a play. I'm all for standing up for one's principles, but the part that bothers me is the getting up and telling everyone every Sunday. Most girls would try to share something every week, both because they wanted their Sunday chocolate and because of social pressure. During pauses, girls would elbow each other to get up. I was no different from anyone else. For me, as I suspect it was for most girls, sharing the ways I had been "righteous" in the past week was almost a kind of high. I got to show everyone else just how righteous I was, and enjoy their admiration. It was an ego booster, but it also served to bind me more closely to the group and to cause me to base a lot of my self-esteem on how I was perceived by the other girls. Everyone judged everyone else. If one of the girls didn't add sleeves to her choir dress or chose to perform on a Sunday, everyone else would look down on her--even though no one ever said anything.

The real difficulty with this kind of "standing for truth and righteousness" is that no one seemed to think very deeply about what they were standing for, or why. Sure, we swallowed all the rhetoric about standing up for "values" and being a "light to the world," but what did that really mean? It really boiled down to following rules--the church's rules--even if they seemed silly. There were no exceptions to the rules, ever. The world was black-and-white.

We were encouraged to be "steadfast and immovable" in the gospel. But where is the value in that? Where is the value in sticking by something even if it doesn't make any sense? Why is obedience a virtue? In the church, standing up for "values" ultimately boiled down to being obedient, to doing what the prophet has told you to, even if it seems silly. We were taught that "obedience is the first law of heaven." In other words, the ultimate virtue was not honesty--it was subordination of one's own reason, intuition, and moral compass to a dictatorship of "revelation." The ultimate result of this is that if obedience is the first law of heaven, the primary and most important virtue, then honesty is vilified. The person who says, "that doesn't make any sense; I don't think I'm going to follow it" is not a moral hero, but a weakling or a hedonist. The young woman who asks why, exactly, it's wrong to have two sets of earrings, and refuses to obey that command until reasonable justification has been given, is not to be praised, but chastised. She is not standing for truth and righteousness--an ironic phrase indeed when it implies moral dishonesty.

Perhaps I am going too far in calling obedience moral dishonesty. Perhaps it's unfair of me to apply my own standard of ethical epistemology to everyone else. But in my own view of the world, "good" and "bad" must be justified. They can't be arbitrarily assigned. They have to have reasoning behind them. If one rejects this, then the whole concept of morality, ethics--whatever you like to call it--is utterly meaningless. If "good" is solely determined by what an authority figure says, then there is no point in calling that authority figure "good." It becomes a circular argument to say that the prophet's counsel is good. How do we know that counsel is good? Because it came from the prophet. How do we know he is a prophet? Because his counsel is good. And round and round it goes.

If you're going to stand for something, you have to have something to stand on. You have to have some kind of epistemological rationale, some kind of logical footing, in order for you to even say that you are standing for something worthwhile. The kind of ethics I was taught in church was completely empty in this respect. The kind of ethics I now espouse are not based on obedience and faith, but on honesty, truth, and humility--the humility to admit that I was wrong.

The Fourteen Fundamentals in Following the Prophet

At the last LDS General Conference, Elder Claudio R. M. Costa gave a talk entitled Obedience to the Prophets. This talk was basically a rehashing of an address that Ezra Taft Benson gave at BYU in 1980 and later republished in the Ensign [note: the link I provided is actually a Liahona article; the Liahona is the international version of the Ensign]. Benson's talk, The Fourteen Fundamentals in Following the Prophet, outlines in detail what members of the LDS church believe about prophets.

This post might require some background information for readers not familiar with Latter-Day-Saint theology. Belief in a modern prophet is a fundamental aspect of LDS faith. The structure of the religious organization and theology is very focused on the existence of a single person who speaks for God and holds all priesthood authority. In Latter-Day-Saint theology, Christ gave some of his authority to his apostles in the form of "priesthood keys." However, these keys died with the apostles (with the exception of John the Beloved, who is believed to have been given immortality). As a result, the world was plunged into an 1800-year "Great Apostasy", when the true church of God and the priesthood keys of authority were not on the earth.

Mormons believe that these keys of authority were restored in the 19th Century when Joseph Smith, under the direction of God, restored the true church to the earth. The LDS doctrine of the priesthood is very detailed, and I'm not going to go into much of that in this post. Suffice it to say that in Latter-Day-Saint theology, the full set of priesthood keys belong to the prophet and president of the church, passed down in a direct line from Joseph Smith to the present prophet,Thomas S. Monson.

Now, with that out of the way, I shall commence my analysis of the LDS conception of prophets as outlined by Benson and quoted by Costa.

1. The prophet is the only man who speaks for the Lord in everything.

This point is pretty self-explanatory. As I explained above, Mormons believe that the prophet is God's representative on earth, and that he is God's only official representative. Unlike most of the other fundamentals, this one doesn't really bother me. If there really were a prophet, of course he would speak for God in everything. The trouble is that if the Mormon prophet really does speak for God in everything, then God must be schizophrenic or something. Or else he just likes to play mind games. Either way.

2. The living prophet is more vital to us than the standard works.

Now things get more interesting. The living prophet is more vital to us than the standard works are? That's awfully convenient. By this reasoning, the prophet can say anything, even if it's contrary to canon, and expect to have his words treated as doctrine. I find this disturbing, as it essentially gives the prophet absolute spiritual authority. If the prophet came to a married woman in the church and said, "God told me that you are supposed to be my wife, and that an angel with a flaming sword would kill me if I didn't marry you," the woman's natural inclination would be to point out that Exodus 20:14 says, "Thou shalt not commit adultery." However, under this doctrine-- the ability of the prophet to contradict the standard works-- the woman has no such recourse.

For those unfamiliar with Mormon history, this scenario sounds preposterous. But it is precisely what happened to Mary Rollins Lightner (married to Adam Lightner), Zina Huntington Jacobs(married to Henry Jacobs), and many other women. (Note: I will go into more detail on polygamy in a future blog post, as it was a huge conundrum for me during my time as a believer and one of the many things that led me out of the church. For now, the sources I've provided will do to make my point.)

Polygamy is just one of many instances in Mormon history where the prophet told members to do things that no moral person would ever do of their own accord. Steven Weinberg nailed it when he said, "Religion is an insult to human dignity. With or without it, you'd have good people doing good things and bad people doing evil things, but for good people to do bad things, it takes religion." Danites . . . Mountain Meadows . . . blood atonement . . . the rabbit hole goes deeper and deeper the more you look. And everything in that rabbit hole has been condoned by a prophet at some point in the Mormon church's history.

I think I've mentioned that I tend to be suspicious of authority. It's a well-known, documented fact that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Nowhere is this more true than with religion. When you have a person declaring that they are the ultimate authority on all matters temporal and spiritual, that their word is always final, and that neither individual reason, democratic process, nor canonical documents can overwrite his word, you have a dangerous tyrant on your hands. I don't care if he is religious, political, social, intellectual, or what-have-you. Power corrupts. And religious power is even more dangerous, because it claims to have authority over your mind, your soul, and your eternity. This problem is evident throughout European history in the struggles for the papacy, and the attempts by many popes to wield both secular and religious authority.

3. The living prophet is more important to us than a dead prophet.

This one strikes me as a clear case of the LDS leaders, to use the vernacular, covering their butts. If we accept the above concept as true, then all the contradictions in church leadership over the years are nicely glossed over. Brigham Young's Adam-God doctrine? We don't believe that anymore, and the fact that Brigham Young taught it is irrelevant. A living prophet is more important to us than a dead prophet.

Now, I'll concede that, practically speaking, it's a lot more valuable to have a living guy who speaks for God now than a dead one who spoke for God two hundred years ago. The concept of an open canon isn't what bothers me. What bothers me is the way this concept is used in the LDS church-- to deceive people and to downplay very real problems.

The way I see it, either truth does not change, or truth is relative. I find the idea of relative truth to be incomprehensible and repulsive. Truth does not change; only our perception of it does. So, when you have a prophet who expands on something an earlier prophet says, or who reveals new doctrine, that's all well and good. But what about when a later prophet blatantly contradicts an earlier one? Adam-God is a great example, but what about polygamy? What about blacks and the priesthood and the Curse of Cain? What about blood atonement? All these things were taught as doctrine-- vital doctrine, doctrine that was supposed to be universal and necessary for the salvation of all people. Yet all of them were later repealed. How does this square with Fundamental #4-- the doctrine that the prophet will never lead the church astray? Either the truth changed, and truth is therefore relative, or else one or both prophets were leading the church astray after all.

Perhaps I'm reading too much into this one; somehow, however, I don't think so. When I've brought up things like Adam-God, polygamy, Curse of Cain, etc., the people I have spoken to have been unable to disprove that earlier prophets did, in fact, teach those things. At this point, I am told one of two things. Option #1: A living prophet is more important than a dead one. Option #2: Even if the prophet is sometimes wrong, God will bless you for your obedience and punish the bad prophet for any crimes you may commit. I've already dealt with Option #1. Option #2 has two serious problems with it. Firstly, it directly contradicts Official Declaration #1, which is canonized scripture. (Oh, wait-- the prophet is more vital to us than the scriptures are. Never mind.) Secondly, and more importantly in my book, obedience does not negate individual responsibility. If someone tells me to do something that I know is wrong, and I do it, that does not absolve my moral responsibility. Option #2 is a total cop-out. It is an excuse to not think.

So-- back to "a living prophet is more important than a dead prophet." This concept is nothing but the Mormon version of the Memory Hole in Orwell's 1984.

4. The prophet will never lead the church astray.

The thing about absolutes is . . . they're kind of absolute. That "the prophet will NEVER lead the church astray" is a pretty big claim, especially when prophets have contradicted each other on major issues (as I've described above; I don't think I need to reiterate). The only way to reconcile this is to accept the concept of relative truth. Maybe that works for some people. I find it unconscionable.

Yet again, this gives members an excuse to turn off their brains. If the prophet says something that seems wrong, or just plain doesn't make sense, members aren't allowed to question. Oh, sure, they're supposed to go "pray for a witness." But they're not allowed to actually doubt the prophet. They're supposed to ask for confirmation. This, of course, invites confirmation bias and introduces the concept of thoughtcrime.

I'll say it right out-- I hold the human mind to be among the most sacred of all things. Independent reasoning is a priceless gift. Anyone or anything that tries to take that away is evil. I can't stress this enough. This is thought control, and it is evil.

5. The prophet is not required to have any particular earthly training or credentials to speak on any subject or act on any matter at any time.

I find this one interesting. It's what I'd expect from a real prophet. So here's my question. If the prophet can speak on any subject or act on any matter at any time, then why doesn't he? Why doesn't the Mormon church have an official position on evolution-- why do they defer to the experts? Evolution is a huge stumbling block for many members. You'd think that if the prophet had any real authority to speak on any matter, he would say something. You'd think that the LDS church would be way ahead of the rest of the world in scientific knowledge and social awareness. Yet they didn't let blacks have the priesthood until it was politically expedient for them to do so. They fought the Equal Rights Amendment tooth and nail. They have never been about progress. They have always placed paramount importance on maintenance of the status quo. I'm not saying that all change from the status quo is good, but it also seems absurd that the status quo should automatically be the "right" way. And it seems that something as basic as human rights should be right up the Mormon church's alley. If God as conceived by Mormons really does love all of his children regardless of race, gender, ethnicity, culture, sexual orientation, or any other factor, then why does it appear that he's a racist, chauvinistic businessman with something to lose from progress?

If the prophet can speak on anything, why doesn't he tell us how to cure cancer? Why doesn't he tell us how to cure AIDS? Why does it seem that he doesn't use his pipeline to God to alleviate human suffering instead of as a political tool that often increases it??

6. The prophet does not have to say “Thus Saith the Lord” to give us scripture.

I'll admit, I got a chuckle out of this one. When I began my intellectual journey out of the church, I was directed to several LDS apologetic sources such as FAIR and FARMS. When it came to things like Brigham Young's Adam-God doctrine and Joseph Smith's false prophecies (e.g., temple in Missouri, second coming in 1890), the main argument that these apologetic sources employed was that these prophets were only "speaking as a man." This "fundamental"-- the prophet speaking as a prophet whenever he opens his mouth-- destroys that argument. Ironically, as I was writing this blog post, I went to look up some of the apologetic articles that employed this argument in order to link to them, but lo and behold! The "speaking as a man" argument had entirely vanished without a trace! The Mormon memory hole is alive and well. Oceania has always been at war with Eastasia-- but I digress.

Aside from the resultant memory hole phenomenon, this fundamental brings up some interesting questions. If everything that comes out of the prophet's mouth is scripture, why doesn't the prophet give us more scripture? Why is it that when a prophet or an apostle publishes a book, the book contains a disclaimer stating that its contents are not official church doctrine? Why is it that General Conference contains little or no new information-- just the same old recycled messages on such dead horses as faith, obedience, tithing, and families? If the Mormon prophet is a real prophet, he sure doesn't act like these fourteen fundamentals say he should.

7. The prophet tells us what we need to know, not always what we want to know.

I suppose that this is where the doctrine of "true, but not useful" comes from. One question: does this justify lying for the Lord?

I imagine a believing Mormon would look at this fundamental and think, "oh, this just means that people don't like to be told that they're sinning." And that's fine. If Mormonism was true, and if I believed in sin, I'd expect the prophet to warn people against sin. And that does definitely go on in the church-- all those girls and women wearing flip-flops to church are sinners and must repent. Okay, fine. But that doesn't negate the fact that this concept gives church leaders an excuse to hide, manipulate, and obfuscate information that is not "useful" to the church. I guess honesty and transparency don't apply to prophets.

8. The prophet is not limited by men’s reasoning.

I suppose this renders my whole argument invalid, doesn't it? But wait-- I am no man! There's no mention of woman's reasoning! In that case, I shall proceed.

9. The prophet can receive revelation on any matter, temporal or spiritual.

I think things are starting to get redundant-- this is basically the same as #5. And it brings up the same question. Why doesn't he? It also, I think, gives one man way too much power. Even if you really believe that he's a prophet, the Old Testament example of Balaam shows that even prophets can be corrupted by power and money. The lack of checks and balances of power in the Mormon church concerns me.

10. The prophet may advise on civic matters.

Ah, here we come to another minefield. I don't want to bring up any politically charged issues-- I'd hate to bring Prop 8 into this-- but this concept comes uncomfortably close to theocracy. How is this different from the medieval popes and all the problems that their corruption caused?

11. The two groups who have the greatest difficulty in following the prophet are the proud who are learned and the proud who are rich.

I find it interesting that Benson specifically pointed out "the proud who are learned and the proud who are rich," instead of just saying "the prideful." "The proud who are rich" is an obvious reference to Christ and the rich young man-- a cliche, if you like. There are also numerous references throughout the Book of Mormon to the proud rich. I'm not going to say much about that; I think it's a two-dimensional dead horse, but I don't find it terribly interesting.

I suppose that many believing Mormon readers would say that I am among the "proud who are learned." I've certainly made it clear that I value the human mind more than so-called "spiritual witnesses," and any observer will note that I have a propensity to use such things as evidence and logical reasoning. I wouldn't say I'm proud-- I think that faith is the real pride (see "Oh Say What is Truth"). I'll take criticism, of course, but the jab at "the proud who are learned" just seems so obvious to me. But then again, it's true that intellectuals are one of the greatest threats to the church, along with feminists and homosexuals.

12. The prophet will not necessarily be popular with the world or the worldly.

I see this as a defense mechanism. The Mormon church's PR is awful, and this is an easy line for members and leaders to spout when the rest of the world starts criticizing-- I mean, persecuting them. I guess I'm just cynical about the LDS church at this point.

13. The prophet and his counselors make up the First Presidency—the highest quorum in the Church.

This is just a definition. Not terribly interesting. Whatever.

14. The prophet and the presidency—the living prophet and the First Presidency—follow them and be blessed—reject them and suffer.

You hear that? Be obedient and be blessed, or think for yourself and suffer! This is just hyperbole and fear tactics. And, unfortunately, it seems to work.

Oh Say, What Is Truth?

"I'd like to bear my testimony that I know this church is true. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet, that my Heavenly Father loves me, and I am thankful that we have a living prophet, Thomas S. Monson, to guide us through these latter days. I have a testimony of the Book of Mormon, and I know that God hears and answers my prayers. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Fast and Testimony meetings are among the more interesting of Mormon practices. On the first Sunday of every month, Mormons fast for the first two meals of the day, and donate the money that they would have spent on food to the church to be used to help the poor. In church on this day, instead of the usual sacrament meeting with prepared talks by pre-assigned speakers, the pulpit is opened up to all the members-- to anyone who wishes to speak. At these meetings, Mormons do what is called "bearing one's testimony."

What is a testimony? I've used the word on this blog a few times already. Mormons talk a lot about testimonies, but looking back, it's difficult for me to put my finger on exactly what the word means. As best I can tell, a testimony is a sense of the truth of the LDS church-- a feeling, really, a "burning in the bosom" that tells you that this is the truth. To bear that testimony is to share it.

Here's the thing. It's often said in the church that one's testimony is found in the bearing of it. As I look back, that disturbs me. In testimony meetings, the vast majority of testimonies given are variations on the same theme, which I used as the opening of this post. Everyone says more or less the same thing, often with personal anecdotes or a focus on a specific principle, such as faith or prayer. The phrase, "a testimony is found in the bearing of it", sounds a lot to me like, "if you tell a lie often enough you start to believe it yourself." The church openly encourages people to get up in front of the congregation and say things that they don't necessarily believe, because if you say it, you will start to believe it.

How does one know if the LDS church is true? If you ask a member, they will tell you to pray about it. They say that God will tell you, by way of the Holy Ghost, that it's true. What does the Holy Ghost feel like? It's said to feel different to everyone. Some people get goose bumps, some feel a burning in the bosom, and others just feel a sense of peace. According to members, you know the church is true if the spirit tells you in your heart.

I always had difficulty with this concept as a member. How do you tell what's supposed to be the Holy Ghost, or the Spirit, from your own feelings? Feelings are great things that serve several functions, but identifying truth isn't one of those functions. I might feel all warm and fuzzy about the car I'm buying, but that doesn't mean that it's a good car. Only a naive fool would buy a car without taking it for a test drive, checking the engine, and generally making sure that they were getting a fair deal on it. Would you buy a car that sounded funny when you drove it, just because you had a good feeling about that car? Of course not! Your feelings can tell you whether or not you like the car, but whether or not the car runs well is independent of your feelings.

The gap between feelings and evidence is a difficult problem in Mormonism. Sometimes what the evidence tells you is different from what the church tells you. How does one reconcile these things? The answer, in Mormonism, is faith.

Faith-- that's enough of a topic to merit a blog post of its very own, but I'll try to address it here. When I have shared my concerns about the LDS church with friends, family, and ecclesiastical leaders, the people I talk to do not have any logical answers for me. They often try, but ultimately we come to a dead end. They-- and I-- cannot reconcile the facts. When we reach this point, we invariably return to the concept of faith. I've spent hours trying to get some of these people to tell me what, exactly, "faith" means. From these conversations, the best definition I've been able to come up with is the ability to set aside your rational concerns and objections and just believe in something regardless.

I don't see any merit in this. To quote Sigmund Freud, "Am I to believe every absurdity? If not, why this one in particular?" There are hundreds of thousands of unfounded propositions that one could make. I could propose that the sky is purple, but all the faith in the world won't turn the sky purple. Mormonism has unfounded claims. Why should I believe them without evidence, while rejecting the unfounded claims of Catholicism or Buddhism or Islam? At this point we come to the Holy Ghost. But the way the Holy Ghost manifests itself is supposed to be through feelings. In my own personal experience, the feelings that I or others have attributed the Holy Ghost have been indistinguishable from my own feelings. I have felt the "Spirit" in church; this is true. But I have felt those exact same feelings in movie theaters, libraries, and practice rooms. The feelings that I have experienced while reading the Book of Mormon have been indistinguishable from the feelings I felt while reading the Lord of the Rings, watching Ever After, or playing Beethoven's Pathetique, Opus 13. Does the fact that I felt those things mean that a hobbit named Frodo really traveled across Middle Earth to throw a ring into a volcano? No, of course not! So why should the fact that I felt those things mean that a guy named Nephi and his posterity really did the things that the Book of Mormon says that they did, in spite of evidence to the contrary? I could go into the anachronisms and other problems in the Book of Mormon, and I probably will in a future blog post, but that isn't my point here. My point is that my feelings about the Book of Mormon-- or anything else in the church-- don't make anything true. Certainly those feelings have value, but they are not indicators of truth. Furthermore, members of other faiths feel just as strongly about their beliefs as Mormons do about their own. Who is to say who is right? The only person who can comprehend a person's feelings is the person who felt them. What right do I have to say that another person's experience regarding their faith is invalid? The only conclusion that I can accept in good conscience is that feelings, while valuable and valid, are not indicators of truth.

Given this, I see the LDS church's approach to epistemology as dishonest and harmful. Encouraging people to say things until they believe them and insisting that feelings are a firm basis for decision-making is not honest. I have never, in all my time as a Mormon, been encouraged to look at actual evidence for and against the church. Historical documents, the archaeological record, and logical processes are not seen as valid methods for finding out if the church is true. The way you're supposed to find out is by praying and getting a "spiritual confirmation" in the form of a feeling.

There is another problem in the Mormon church's approach to finding truth-- one is expected to start with the answer predetermined. To consider the possibility that the church might be wrong is considered a bad thing, a road to apostasy, a thoughtcrime. Honest intellectualism doesn't work this way. A true seeker of truth will welcome doubts and questions. If something is true, then it can withstand whatever questions or evidence I can throw at it. One should never be afraid to ask hard questions. If you feel uncomfortable asking difficult questions of your belief system, then something is terribly wrong. You should never, ever be afraid to think.

Out of all the different problems with the LDS church-- the history, the doctrine, the culture-- its attitude toward truth and the search for truth is the one that disturbs me the most. When I was getting ready to go to college, I mentioned to an adult friend that I was considering studying philosophy. This friend warned me against doing that, as she had known a girl who had studied philosophy at BYU and then apostatized. This bothered me. Philosophy, when you break it down to its Latin roots, literally means the love of truth. I love truth; why should I be afraid of it? There are times when I wish that the LDS church was true and that I could believe it-- but wanting doesn't make it so. As a humble seeker of truth, I am morally obligated to follow wherever the facts, the evidence, and logic may lead me. I may be wrong sometimes. People who look for truth often revise their views. Einstein's Theory of Relativity supplanted much of Newton's work. Does that make Newton's work invalid? Most of what Newton discovered was "true", in a limited sense. But it was incomplete. Similarly, I may be wrong about some things; in fact, I most certainly am wrong about many things. But I am aware of that possibility. I do not get up the first Sunday of every month-- or any other time-- and proclaim that I "know" that mass is attracted to mass. I have no need to keep reminding myself to believe in that. If I stopped believing it without evidence, that wouldn't make me bad (although it would make me gullible and intellectually irresponsible). On the other hand, Mormons-- and members of many other religions-- have to constantly remind themselves to believe, lest they "lose their testimony." The way I see it, truth stands on its own. I don't have to keep reminding myself and bearing my testimony of gravity. That would be silly.

Religious people sometimes speak as if accepting something without evidence is a virtue. I see that as a heinous crime against sanity. Evidence is vital when one is attempting to form a worldview that is anywhere near reality. Without evidence, one would be subject to believing any irrational proposition that might come one's way, regardless of its truth or falsity.

I am reminded of a video clip that I saw in one of my college history classes about Galileo. Galileo Galilei's work supplanted much of what Aristotle had said. One of those things that he supplanted was the idea that heavier objects fall faster than lighter objects. In the video that I saw, Galileo was sitting at dinner with some church and political figures, discussing his theories with them. He told them what he had discovered-- that objects fall at the same rate, regardless of weight. His dinner companions asserted that this was not possible, as Aristotle

had told us that Galileo's assertion could not be true. Galileo proposed that they test the idea, but his dinner companions objected, saying that that was not necessary. Aristotle had already told us what was so, and there was no need to test the matter any further. But Galileo proposed that they test it, just for fun. He picked up a grape and an orange from the table, and he dropped them. Each hit the table at the same time. His dinner companions were astonished, but still refused to accept what was right in front of their eyes.

The Mormon approach to spiritual truth is a lot like that, in my view. Once you've had that spiritual witness, once you've felt good about the church, you don't need to test it anymore. Once the prophet has spoken on something, there's no need to debate the issue further. A real seeker of truth, once they think they have found the truth, will always keep the caveat, "but I could be wrong." A real truth seeker will welcome the opportunity to be proved wrong, because if you are wrong, wouldn't you want to know about it?

So this is why I'm a Mormon heretic. Everything I've written on this blog is subject to review. All the evidence I've seen against Mormonism is subject to reevaluation in the face of new information; I'll gladly reconsider in the face of new evidence. But I cannot in good conscience accept a certain set of feelings about a given proposition as evidence that said proposition is true.

Young Women

I have come to believe that the LDS church's youth programs are programs of control and manipulation-- particularly the Young Women's organization. The LDS church is very big on traditional gender roles-- the man as the "priesthood authority" and the woman as the compliant housewife. A lot of this is subliminal, but what is overt is shocking.

Consider, for example, the Young Women theme. Every week, all the young women stand and recite the following word-for-word: We are daughters of our heavenly Father, who loves us, and we love him. We will stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things and in all places, as we strive to live the Young Women values, which are: Faith, Divine Nature, Individual Worth, Knowledge, Choice and Accountability, Good Works, Integrity and Virtue. We believe that as we come to accept and act upon these values, we will be prepared to strengthen home and family, make and keep sacred covenants, receive the ordinances of the temple, and enjoy the blessings of exaltation. Listening to a room full of 20-odd young women reciting that in monotone unison is chilling.

Another example is the the Sunday lesson manual. Sub-sections include, "Fulfilling Woman's Divine Roles," "Contributing to Family Life," and "Learning about the Priesthood." Lessons are packed with teachings about how the divine role of women is to stay at home and raise children. True, there are sections on such things as education. However, while these sections may appear innocuous on the surface, even they serve to reinforce the idea that women belong at home and are made to serve others. The lesson I provided a link to, for example, suggests using images of a mother teaching her children and a woman teaching at church as part of the lesson. The message is clearly that a woman's education must train her to serve her family and the church.

Another lesson is devoted entirely to marriage-- specifically, the Mormon conception of it. A significant portion of this lesson is devoted to a story featured in the New Era some years back.

“It all began that first Sunday in March. Or did it? I guess it couldn’t really have had a beginning, because Karen, Emily, and I have been best friends forever. Whether celebrating birthdays and knitting identical purses in Primary as young girls or marching on the drill team and double- or triple-dating in high school, our vastly different personalities somehow seemed to complement each other, and for 15 years we were practically inseparable.

“After high school graduation, though, things began changing in our gleesome threesome. Karen and Emily lived at home and attended the university, while I lived three hours away in a small state college dorm with five strangers. After enduring so much together, we wondered what a few miles could possibly do to our great friendship. But we soon knew. …

“I realized that our special communication had vanished, but I was still shocked one day to open my mail and find a wedding announcement from Emily. Even more surprising was the absence of the wordtemple in the announcement.

“I rushed home that weekend and headed straight for Emily’s. There we talked—talked in the almost forgotten way we had that eternal year ago. She had only known Ted two months, but he was the most handsome, intelligent, popular guy on campus. They would both finish college, and then Ted would go on to dental school. His folks had already agreed to help them with expenses, so that would be no problem. After he graduated, Emily joked, all they would have to do is sit around and rake up the money.

“Once again I had begun to feel close to Emily, when suddenly, I heard myself wondering out loud why there had been no mention of the temple on her announcement. ‘Well, we can’t,’ she said, her flippant attitude not quite covering the concern I sensed. ‘Ted’s a Baptist in the first place, and besides, we want to be married in his parents’ ski lodge and write our own ceremony. A wedding should be really personal and meaningful, not just the same words for everyone. Ted will join the Church someday. But even if he doesn’t, my dad’s not a member and it hasn’t stopped my mother from being active. It won’t stop me either.’

“By the time Emily was through with her well-practiced little spiel, her defiance had built a wall between us once again. What could I say? After a few moments of fumbling chatter to try to ease the discomfort, I said goodbye.”

Pause in the story and have the young women consider this question:

• • If you were Emily’s friend, what would you say to her?

Continue with the story:

“Three weeks later I attended Ted and Emily’s ski lodge wedding. Contrary to my expectations, it was a very striking event—though not religious in any way. They both read poetry to each other for the ceremony, while a flute played lightly in the background. After there was dancing, with punch for us Mormons and champagne for the others. Ted’s parents were super rich, I could tell, and they had just about planned the whole wedding. They were deliriously happy with their new daughter-in-law (and probably a little from the champagne, too). But I noticed Emily’s mom had really red and swollen eyes—like she’d been crying a lot. Mothers are that way—especially when it’s their only child.

“Surprisingly enough, Emily did stay active in the Church. With all her school work and married duties, she attended her meetings faithfully and also served as the assistant librarian. She and Ted lived in an apartment in our ward and I saw her quite often. She always gave me glowing reports of marriage and told how great Ted was to her. ‘What a life,’ I thought.

“Six months later Karen married a returned missionary who was just completing his master’s degree in education. They were married in the Logan Temple, so I couldn’t go, of course. But I did attend the reception in our cultural hall, and it was really beautiful. …

“I kept seeing Emily now, coming to church radiant and excited about everything she was doing. ‘No problems at all,’ she would say. ‘He’s really very liberal. “You go to your church and I’ll go to mine.” Only he doesn’t even go to his.’ But in the back of my mind I could also see Emily when we were younger: praying her nonmember dad would baptize her, wondering if her dad would take her to the Primary daddy-daughter party, trying to pretend it didn’t matter when he went golfing instead of coming to her seminary graduation. But then childhood is such a small part of life. What difference does it really make in the long run?

“Karen and Emily, still doing things together, had baby girls within a week of each other. I took a pink dress to Emily’s little girl and absolutely fell in love with her. Karen’s mother told me in church one day that Karen, David, and their little Melissa would be coming in March to show off the baby and get her blessed where Grandpa and all three of Karen’s adoring older brothers could stand in the circle.

“Then came the first Sunday in March. …

“As I made my way … into the chapel, I met Emily and her baby in the foyer. It was her first time back to church since Julie’s birth. We talked for a minute and then entered the chapel. Emily and her mother sat in the row in front of me. …

“Through the rows of heads and shoulders that I saw from my position on the fourth row from the back, I caught a glimpse of Karen and the rest of her family taking up an entire center bench. …

“After the songs and announcements were over and after we had taken the sacrament, Bishop Edwards stood behind the pulpit and said, ‘This afternoon we have a special treat. I know many of you have known Karen Evans since she was a little girl.’ Emily looked back at me and winked knowingly, but then turned her head sharply forward as the bishop went on. ‘Well, this afternoon Karen, now Karen Sanders, has brought her own little girl to receive a name and a blessing from her husband. Assisting in the circle will be her father and brothers.’

“As I watched David take his little girl from Karen and carry her almost reverently to the front, I could see a side view of Emily. Tears were rapidly filling her deep blue eyes and streaming down her face onto Julie’s downy head. Her shoulders shook violently as she buried her head in her baby’s neck. Emily’s mother tenderly put her arm around her daughter’s throbbing shoulders, and I could see that she, too, was crying. Emily looked up, and I heard her gasp in a desperate whisper, ‘Oh, Mama! Who is going to bless my baby?’

“ ‘I bless you, Melissa, with a sound mind and body,’ I heard David Sanders say at the front of the room, ‘and that you will live a righteous life, that when the time comes, you will meet a choice son of our Father in heaven, one who honors his priesthood and who will take you to the temple of the Lord to be sealed to him for eternity.’ Through the entire blessing and for the rest of the meeting, Julie’s baby shawl absorbed her tears.

“And now, even though a year has passed … whenever … I see a mother and baby alone, something grabs at my heart. For I keep seeing Emily” (Carolyn White Zaugg, “I Keep Seeing Emily,” New Era, June 1975, pp. 26–29)."

The message of this story is, in essence, "if you do not marry a good Mormon boy in the temple, you and the children will suffer for it." I remember being given this lesson several times while growing up, and each time I promised myself that I would not suffer that kind of pain. It was very effective.

Marriage is considered to be the ultimate goal for an LDS young woman. In the Young Women Theme, "mak[ing] and keep[ing] sacred covenants" and "receiv[ing] the ordinances of the temple" refer to marriage-- Mormon marriages are performed in temples. Temples are presented to young women as the ultimate fairytale castle for their weddings. Young Women are expected to complete "Personal Progress", a program that stresses the eight values listed in the theme. Elements of Personal Progress include preparation for homemaking and church service, preparation for marriage, and reinforcement of "keeping the commandments."

Chastity in young women is so important in the LDS church that there are annual firesides specifically dedicated to chastity. A new "value" was recently added to the list of values that Young Women are required to memorize-- Virtue. I'm not criticizing the idea of virtue or chastity; only the LDS church's treatment of it. If a young woman in the LDS church commits some kind of sexual sin (which can range anywhere from French kissing to actual intercourse), she must go to her bishop and go through a lengthy "repentance process" in order to regain her "worthiness." This process entails not being allowed to take the Sacrament (the Mormon equivalent of communion), meeting regularly with the bishop, and "confessing" the sordid details of her sin to the bishop. How does this compare with Christ's treatment of the woman accused of adultery? Christ was the most perfect human being ever to walk the earth. He was perhaps the only person who ever had the right to condemn anybody else for sin. Yet, his words to the adulteress were, "Neither do I condemn thee. Go, and sin no more."

Young women in the LDS church are frequently told that they are of "infinite worth", but actions speak louder than words. Is the "virtuous woman" the only one whose worth is "far above rubies"? The attitude of the LDS church towards women indicates that their worth is contingent upon conformity. Pink pastel conformity.