Where will the church be thirty years from now if it continues classifying monogamous gay sex as a sin and if it rejects any state or federal legislation on gay rights, in whatever form such laws may take?

Please, let’s try to keep this discussion focused as much as possible on the actual question and not turn this into another free-for-all on homosexuality or gay marriage in general…

In Mormonism, we are taught that God said, regarding his children who kept their first estate and got themselves born onto this earth, “And we will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them; . . . and they who keep their second estate shall have glory added upon their heads for ever and ever” (Abraham 3:25-26).

In other words, one way of looking at Mormonism is that it represents spiritual survival of the fittest on an eternal level. We are put into a testing environment, and those who fully succeed spiritually are given the opportunity to reproduce in the eternities, via exaltation in the celestial kingdom.

This is a model that really works for me as I think about the plan of salvation and our purpose here on earth. In fact, I even managed to include it in the book Mormonism For Dummies that I coauthored: “In a kind of spiritual survival of the fittest—a process God would oversee with love and concern—only those who made enough progress in learning and obeying God’s will would eventually be resurrected as heavenly parents; the rest would be resurrected to lesser degrees of glory, according to their efforts, desires, and faith.” (My coauthor had the sense to have me add the part about God’s love and concern.)

In nature, an animal survives by its strength, cunning, defenses, etc. In the Mormon plan of salvation, of course, it’s practically the opposite: we demonstrate our fitness by recognizing and accepting the Savior, repenting, doing our best to live his gospel so that his atonement can heal and perfect us, and by accepting the fullness of the father through temple ordinances. In other words, whether in this life or the next, we have to be spiritually savvy enough to recognize and embrace the truth so that God can exalt us through his grace, after all we can do.

God wants us all to fully succeed, but unfortunately those who will suffer for their own sins in spirit prison through the Millennium and then inherit the telestial kingdom will be as numerous as the sands of the sea. And those who are only partially spiritually fit will inherit the terrestrial kingdom. But only the fully fit who gain the celestial kingdom through Christ’s atonement and God’s true religion will keep reproducing in the eternities.

So in what ways does looking at Mormonism in this way resonate with you, bother you, and/or downright offend you?

First, I will consider the concept from God’s point of view. Does he love us unconditionally? It depends on how you define the word love, which is a term that we throw around too loosely and generally. In reality, God’s love operates on many different levels, some unconditional and some conditional. God certainly feels unconditional concern for all of his children. He has unconditional hope and desire that we will return to him and receive his love. He feels unconditional sadness for his children who don’t return to him. In his unconditional benevolence, he gave us a plan of salvation that makes it possible for all his children who kept their first estate and keep their second estate to ultimately return. He feels unconditionally compassionate about the trials and difficulties we go through, and he unconditionally wants us all to be happy.

However, I argue that he loves us at higher levels only to the degree that we make progress in becoming like him so we can return to him. To the degree that we vary from the conditions required to return to him, his ability to love us is reduced. The allegory of Lehi’s dream reinforces this. Those who follow the iron rod can reach the white fruit and partake of this fruit, which symbolizes the love of God. Those who don’t follow the rod fall away and do not get to partake of God’s love.

So what is God’s love, at its higher levels of expression? I argue that it’s a totally different thing from the concern, hope, desire, sadness, and compassion that I discussed above. God’s highest love comes to us in the form of his presence, which he can give us only when he is able to fully respect us and trust us, when he—and we—feel 100-percent safe and comfortable communing together in intimate fellowship, rapport, and mutual expression. On this earth, his presence comes to us chiefly through the Holy Ghost, whose influence can be cultivated only on the conditions of faith, purity, obedience, etc. After death, as we all know, we can regain God’s literal presence and love if we’ve followed his conditions for doing so, including repenting and receiving the necessary ordinances.

When we don’t follow the conditions, God won’t and can’t love us at this highest level. When we draw away from him in sin, he cannot fully respect us, trust us, commune with us, or even be with us, unless and until we repent. To receive this kind of love, we must be worthy through repentance and enduring to the end. While I’m sure God still feels bad about the spirits who rebelled in premortality, he clearly does not love them, although I imagine he still feels sadness for them. For his children who are on track to receive a telestial glory, he does not love them on this earth in terms of respecting and trusting them enough to commune with them through his spirit, and in the eternities he loves them only enough to let the Holy Ghost visit them, a benefit they earned by keeping their first estate, even if they didn’t keep their second. For the terrestrial kingdom, populated by those who lived a good life and accepted Christ but did not accept the fullness of the father, the father loves them enough to allow the Savior to personally minister to them in that kingdom, but the father himself does not love them at this highest level I’m talking about.

So that’s why I agree with the correlation committee that we shouldn’t use the term unconditional love when it comes to deity, at least not without a great deal of care to make clear what form of love we’re talking about. Some aspects of God’s love are unconditional—his concern, his hope, his compassion—but the higher aspects of his love are conditional. To me, the blanket term unconditional love is related to the false Christian doctrine that God/Jesus saves us simply by grace, when Mormons know that there’s still a condition attached, the condition of “after all we can do,” including doing all the repenting necessary for the atonement to kick in.

What about unconditional love among humans? Since we don’t have omniscience, we cannot and should not withhold or withdraw our love as readily as God does, but surely there are times when we are justified in withdrawing or withholding our respect, trust, and communion. If my son murdered someone, I would not love him as an equal who is worthy of my respect, trust, and communion, even though I should still be able to feel unconditional concern, compassion, and hope for him. If someone robbed my house, I would not be able to love him at this higher level I’m talking about, even though I might be able to show him forgiveness and charity. If my wife had an affair, I would love her less at this level. Any time anyone treats anyone else—including his or her own self—contrary to the gospel, I love the person less because I am not able to relate with them or see eye to eye with them. Ideally I would still feel unconditional concern, compassion, and hope for such people, including my own family members who misbehave, and I may even be able to minister to them in some ways, but I would not be able to fully respect them, trust them, and commune with them unless and until they truly improved enough to warrant it. And of course I would not expect people who are more righteous than I am to love me as much at this higher level as they could if I deserved it more.

In some situations, we don’t know how accountable an individual person is for a sin, and in that case we have to be extra-careful. God can still fully love those who make mistakes for which they are not accountable—after all, he precisely knows each person’s degree of accountability. For us, we often have to reserve judgment. Can we still truly love someone at the highest level—respect them, trust them, commune with them—while we’re waiting to see how accountable they are for their misconduct? It may be possible to partially love them and to minister unto them with the hope of one day being able to wholeheartedly love them, but I don’t think full, unreserved love in such a situation is humanly possible.

What I see happening is that certain people who desire to fully love and accept as many as their fellow humans as possible cannot abide a wait-and-see approach with regards to certain people’s accountability for certain sins. Instead of reserving judgment of individuals while still staying true to the revealed doctrines about what is sinful and what is not, they attempt to redefine a sin as not being a sin, so that they can then fully respect, trust, and commune with a sinner even while that person is still living a sinful lifestyle. On some levels it’s a noble impulse, but I think it’s spiritually very dangerous, because God can’t fully respect, trust, and commune with someone who insists on loving sinners at the highest level instead of following God’s prophets. Yes, give all sinners unconditional concern, compassion, and hope, but let’s not respect them and commune with them in their sins. That’s the path our society is headed down, and Satan, laughing, spreads his wings. 

Another thing I want to add to this topic in general: Forgiving someone for a trespass is not the same as fully loving them—in other words, respecting them, trusting them, and communing with them. Forgiveness means we don’t hate them, we don’t insist on vengeance or punishment, and we don’t demand restitution. It also means we should give them our unconditional concern, hope, and compassion, even if they are not yet and may never become our moral/spiritual equals.

That’s how I see it, and I think it’s pretty much all in line with authentic Mormon thought, as opposed to the mainstream Christian misconceptions we see infiltrating our culture somewhat. Where do you agree or differ?

If you look at most pagan religions, the pagans often have very interesting, true-ish ideas about where humans came from and where we are going, but they totally lack knowledge of the need for a Savior to get us out of our current mortal dilemma. (I use the term pagan to mean non-Christian religions, even though it more correctly means polytheistic religions, but in reality those two aspects often go together. I don’t consider Mormons polytheistic because we worship only one god, although of course we acknowledge the existence of countless gods. I’m not sure where Islam fits in this… monotheistic non-Christian?)

By the same token, if you look at Christian religions, they enjoy an abundance of understanding and faith about the Savior and his New Testament gospel, but they have lost nearly all the truth about humankind’s origins and potential—in other words, about our true nature. There’s a tunnel-vision focus in Christianity on Jesus as an end in of himself rather than as a means to an end, which in Mormonism we understand to be exaltation for God’s children who pass the test. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that Christianity undervalues humanity and overdoes Jesus, if that’s possible.

Christianity understands the how but not the why. Paganism (or some of it, anyway) understands the why but not the how. So the masterstroke of Mormonism, to me, is that it restores these two key areas of understanding back into one belief system. We understand both the how and the why in a way that I don’t think any other religion does (correct me if I’m wrong).

I served my mission in Australia, and even the pagan Australian Aborigines have some true-ish beliefs about premortality. During what Aborigines call the Dreamtime, which could be another word for premortality, creative beings formed the land’s physical features, and some of those beings became human to safeguard the creation. Many Aborigines believe that spirit children wait at certain fertility sites for a suitable opportunity to enter a womb. In one group, spirit children are small, dark-skinned personages who have always existed. When one of them wishes to become human, it enters a camp and whispers to a sleeping man, requesting to be escorted to his wife. All this is quite breath-taking for me from a Mormon point of view.

The Greek mystics believed that the spiritual nature of man descended from the Milky Way into material existence. Socrates wrote, “Our souls must also have existed without bodies before they were in the form of man, and must have had intelligence.” Egyptian mystic Hermes Trismegistus taught, “We must not shrink from saying that a man on earth is a mortal god, and that God in heaven is an immortal man.” In a sense, the Hindus believe that humans are gods who have always existed and have forgotten who they really are.

Even some of the early Christians believed in the doctrine of premortality. The third-century Christian writer Origen of Alexandria believed that human spirits were judged for their premortal conduct before coming to earth. He wrote, “The concrete and individual human mind descended into the body from the choir of aerial souls, having lived earlier lives and bringing with it the qualities and a nature which it had acquired by its conduct.”

However, in A.D. 543 the Roman Catholic pope officially outlawed belief in premortality as too speculative, unscriptural, and pagan. So the concept was essentially lost to mainstream Christianity, and no one else has restored it like Joseph Smith finally did. Even as late as 1329, however, a monk was excommunicated for teaching that the human soul is uncreated and uncreatable.

And of course, terrestrial-kingdom-level Christianity sees Mormonism’s understanding of humankind’s godly potential as equally blasphemous. That’s why I love Mormonism as a belief system, because not only do we totally embrace the Savior but also we comprehend the celestial-kingdom-level “fullness of the father.” (At least, most of us do—I’ve been dismayed to see some Mormons drift into “mere Christianity,” even President Hinckley at times when he was doing P.R.)

This thrilling big-picture kind of stuff is one of the main reasons I stay in Mormonism even though I don’t personally much enjoy the culture or lifestyle. I’m just totally sold on the worldview. I honestly don’t know if anything I’ve said or how I’ve said it is strikingly original or not; I may have read it all or been taught it all before somewhere. All the same, any enhancements or push-backs on this outlook?

This fine gent has asked me to shake some trees and see what topics Mormons would like to see given this kind of treatment, whether historical, cultural, or whatever. He prints ‘em cheap in China and stacks ‘em deep in places like Costco and Barnes & Noble.

So take a moment to sit down on your sofa and stare down at your coffee table and try to picture what kind of Mormon-themed coffee-table book you’d like to see there, something that hasn’t already been done (or, if it has been done in some form, hasn’t received the glossy full-color illustrated treatment it deserves yet).

Thanks in advance for any suggestions! (And I’m sure none of them will be tongue-in-cheek…)

Instead of posting my idiosyncratic reflections and opinions here, I will refer you to my essay “Trying Again to Get Sunstoned” at my personal blog, if you’re interested. What I wanted to do here on Mormon Matters is start a conversation on what people think about Sunstone, its character, its mission, its future prospects, etc. I’m sure the new employees and the board members would love to hear any additional frank feedback they can get.

I know that our guru John Dehlin has been involved in Sunstone in some capacity in the recent past, so I’d particularly like to invite him to tell us about his experience and what he thinks of Sunstone.

I grew up in the Los Angeles area, and I remember getting my training at this same age. What a time warp! In 1977 they showed us well-produced films and went into a lot more detail. Thirty years later in Utah, an old guy got up in front of the white board and laughably sketched a few biological details, but he never really connected the dots or made it clear that tab A goes into slot B. By the conclusion, I felt so much had been left out that I raised my hand and said, “Uh, does part two come next year, or what?”

The guy put on a forced smile and said, “Nope, that’s all we offer.” A lady turned around, pointed at me somewhat rudely, and said, “You’re part two.” (By the way, it was weird having a few mothers in there; I remember it was strictly a father-and-son outing in California.)

Anyway, all the Utah school did was get the ball rolling. They covered nocturnal emissions and menstrual cycles, but they didn’t even come close to talking about intercourse or masturbation, let alone birth control or disease prevention. I remember that in California they taught us that masturbation was normal and healthy, and afterward my dad told me it was wrong and Mormons don’t believe in it.

This Utah guy actually spent quite a bit of time on emotional and social maturity, which I thought was pretty good. At the end, they gave all the kids their own stick of deodorant. I’m wondering if this district does any further training on condoms or whatever in high school health class, or is this truly the extent of the district’s sex education?

In some ways I appreciate that the district just gave the ball a gentle shove, and now it’s up to the parents to finish it. However, I’m not likely to pursue my son about these issues, and he’s not the type to ask me much. It was only surprisingly recently that he began to figure out about Santa Claus, and I still don’t know exactly how much he understands about what parents do in their beds when they hope all the kids are asleep.

At his age, I remember I thought that sex happened only one time, right after the marriage; in fact, I pictured it taking place in a restroom stall at the temple, with the couple still wearing their wedding clothes and uncomfortably positioned over a toilet. And I was very worried about how a male could tell whether he was putting urine or semen into the female. On the way home from the sex education, I actually asked my dad how often it happened and was quite surprised when he said, “About once a week.” As for the other question, I guess I figured out those mechanics on my own a couple of years later. But for me and my son, the maturation training did not prompt any questions in him that he was willing to ask, and I don’t think we’ve discussed it since, except to talk about the dangers of porn because now he’s already started looking at naked pictures online, although I don’t think he’s seen actual sex happening.

So what are some of your thoughts and experiences regarding school sex education and the role of parents, etc.?

For example, here is a list of REAL names my wife and I recently collected from a photo site for new-born Utah babies. As you go through this list, stop and savor each one, seeing how it feels as you say it aloud or marvel at the breathtaking spelling:

Abbigayle
Alexandrial
Ashtyn
Austynn
Avree
Braly
Chayton
Davin
Dominyk
Ezinaye
Jayk
Katana
Koya
McKade
Peyson
Seide
Surenity
TyKoda
Tyzac

As further evidence of this expanding trend even closer to home for me, my wife has 23 students in her kindergarten class this year, and 9 of those have unusual names, no fewer than 40% of the class:

Zander
Jaron
Jence
Kian
Kendyl
Keylla
Aisea
Sydnee
Celestial

So, I ask you, what do you think of this trend? If you are a parent who felt such a creative spark, what moved you to do it, and what have been the results? Personally, I’m pretty nonplussed by it—in fact, I wonder if it’s one of the signs of the times, a latter-day Tower of Babel, a signal of the impending collapse of civilization…

“The news that Coke Newell’s novel On the Road to Heaven won Best Novel at the new Whitney Awards could have interesting implications for the LDS market,” writes literary reporter Kent Larsen at Mormon culture blog A Motley Vision. “Since the novel also won the Association for Mormon Letters Best Novel award earlier this year, Newell’s work is clearly the consensus novel of the year.”

Many LDS authors and publishers are referring to the new Whitney Awards as the Mormon literary equivalent of the Oscar, and at least one professional has suggested that this award be nicknamed the “Orson,” in honor of 19th-century Mormon apostle Orson F. Whitney, after whom the awards are named because Elder Whitney prophesied that Mormonism “will yet have Miltons and Shakespeares of our own.”

Newell finds it strange to win the two top Mormon literary awards, because he never even intended to write for the Mormon market. “I started my writing career as a journalist,” he says. Born and bred in the Colorado mountains, Newell joined the LDS Church in his late teens. Following up on a private dream in the early ’90s, he ended up getting hired by LDS Church headquarters, where he wrote stories for the national media as a member of the Public Affairs department for more than a decade.

Along the way Newell sold several books to national publishers, including a book on Colombian journalists and the drug cartels (Dying Words, Red Mesa, 1991), a tongue-in-cheek guide to the changing American West (Cow Chips Aren’t for Dippin’, Gibbs Smith, 1996), and a leadership parable for parents (Journey to Edaphica, Booksurge, 2006).

In 1998 New York publishing powerhouse St. Martin’s Press approached Newell to write a book for national audiences on the doctrine and history of Mormonism, to be a trustworthy insider’s guide for non-Mormon outsiders. Marketing commitment from the publisher and industry praise for the book propelled Latter Days: A Guided Tour Through Six Billion Years of Mormonism and its writer into sudden notoriety as an author. To date, Latter Days has sold more than 30,000 copies and is still in print after eight years.

Until recently, Newell knew next to nothing about the LDS literary market. “Outside the works of General Authorities and scholars,” he says, “I’ve never read Mormon authors or Mormon-market books. I read Stegner and Kerouac and Thoreau.”

Attempting to interest New York publishers in a manuscript for which he felt “a great passion,” the lightly fictionalized story of his conversion from Colorado mountain hippie to Mormon missionary in Colombia, Newell found little interest in the Big Apple.

Enter Zarahemla Books. In mid-2006, author and editor Christopher Bigelow launched this small Mormon publishing firm to fill a void in Mormon publishing. “I don’t like the safe, sanitized, predictable stuff put out by most LDS publishers,” Bigelow says. “I wanted to start publishing more earthy, realistic stories that still ultimately affirm the Mormon faith, often in unusual, unexpected, unconventional ways.”

Bigelow quickly realized that Newell’s On the Road to Heaven represented exactly the kind of book he was looking for, and he eagerly published it in August 2007. Widely praised and now amply recognized by both readers and critics, the novel sets itself up for a sequel with its final line. “Only time will tell which road I choose to take next,” Newell says.

I find justification for this assertion in the Book of Mormon itself, one of the key scriptures held as true by Wardle’s sponsoring institution. The book of Ether tells us about a man named Morianton who rose to power. “And after that he had established himself king he did ease the burden of the people, by which he did gain favor in the eyes of the people, and they did anoint him to be their king. And he did do justice unto the people, but not unto himself because of his many whoredoms” (Ether 10:10-11).

So while Wardle is certainly right about the importance of example in public figures, perhaps we are too quick to pry and judge when it comes to politicians’ personal lives. I say we should keep the spotlight firmly on their public service and be very slow to make an issue of their personal lives. After all, from today’s perspective many of us would agree that Bill Clinton was overall a better leader of this nation than Bush, despite Clinton’s whoredoms in his personal life.

Your thoughts?

1. Have you ever met President Monson and, if so, do you have any lasting impressions from that meeting? What’s he like in person?

While I never encountered President Hinckley up close and personal, I’ve encountered President Monson several times. At a wedding, he was kind and complimentary toward my toddler son, who was just learning to walk. In a business setting, however, he can be more gruff and bossy. When I picked up some photos from him at his office one time, he frowned at me and warned me not to let the rain ruin the photos, without giving me any of the warm fuzzies of his pulpit persona. When I worked at the Ensign magazine, he was probably the highest-maintenance General Authority in terms of approving material, making requests, and so forth.

I find it refreshing how President Monson seems to enjoy pop culture. I once saw him eating junk food at the Disney Ice Capades at the Delta Center. My good friend who is his nephew informed me that President Monson maintains a collection of James Bond movies at his vacation home in Midway, Utah. And he quoted the movies Field of Dreams and Home Alone in his general conference talks, thus making those movies part of Mormon scripture.

On the other hand, he doesn’t always take teasing well. At a wedding reception, he and his wife were sitting alone at a table, and my parents decided to sit next to them. “You scared everyone away,” my dad quipped, but President Monson just frowned and looked away.

2. When you think back on President Monson as a speaker, what stands out about his style? Are there themes that you associate with him?

President Monson always seems to have a story about helping a widow or some other person in need. He also draws upon a seemingly endless supply of charming, folksy anecdotes from his childhood. I think in recent years he’s gotten more loose and funny in his talks, often telling fairly uproarious stories that can be quite entertaining. In fact, sometimes his style is a bit hammy. He’s the Hallmark card of general authorities, fairly sentimental and appealing to the lowest common denominator, widely beloved by both young and old but also a little cheesy for some. I find him an interesting mix of ego and compassion.

3. President Monson is beloved for his stories. Do you have a favorite story that you’ve heard him tell?

For some reason, the story that stands out most in my mind is the one he told at general conference in 2002 about his son’s water snake, because it was such an entertainingly bizarre story that didn’t make any apparent gospel point:

“…an event occurred in my life with our youngest son, Clark.

Clark has always liked animals, birds, reptiles—anything that is alive. Sometimes that resulted in a little chaos in our home. One day in his boyhood he came home from Provo Canyon with a water snake, which he named Herman.

Right off the bat Herman got lost. Sister Monson found him in the silverware drawer. Water snakes have a way of being where you least expect them. Well, Clark moved Herman to the bathtub, put a plug in the drain, put a little water in, and had a sign taped to the back of the tub which read, “Don’t use this tub. It belongs to Herman.” So we had to use the other bathroom while Herman occupied that sequestered place.

But then one day, to our amazement, Herman disappeared. His name should have been Houdini. He was gone! So the next day Sister Monson cleaned up the tub and prepared it for normal use.

Several days went by. One evening I decided it was time to take a leisurely bath; so I filled the tub with a lot of warm water, and then I peacefully lay down in the tub for a few moments of relaxation. I was lying there just pondering, when the soapy water reached the level of the overflow drain and began to flow through it. Can you imagine my surprise when, with my eyes focused on that drain, Herman came swimming out, right for my face? I yelled out to my wife, “Frances! Here comes Herman!”

Well, Herman was captured again, put in a foolproof box, and we made a little excursion to Vivian Park in Provo Canyon and there released Herman into the beautiful waters of the South Fork Creek. Herman was never again to be seen by us.”

4. Do you have a favorite story that you’ve heard told about him?

Here’s a little story I love that shows his practical, frugal side: Someone I know once saw President Monson pull into the driveway of his Midway vacation home, mow the lawn in his white shirtsleeves, and then get back into his car and speed away, presumably back down to church headquarters in Salt Lake.

5. As a leader, what do you expect from President Monson? What things, if any, do you think he’ll approach differently than President Hinckley did?

I think that following President Hinckley as prophet must be every bit as challenging as succeeding LaVell Edwards as BYU football coach. I expect that he’ll largely stay the course established by President Hinckley—after all, President Monson helped set that course too, as a long-time member of the First Presidency.

I remember that in the years right after President Hinckley became prophet, it seemed like he made an exciting announcement at every general conference, such as small temples and the Perpetual Education Fund, but gradually these announcements tapered off. It would be fun if President Monson stirred things up like that again for a few years, but I don’t expect any major shakeups.

6. In the same way that President Hinckley emphasized temples and retention of converts, are there church programs that you think President Monson will be focused on?

He’s very big on service, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he focuses more on welfare and humanitarian assistance. I believe he’s also big on building bridges to other faiths and communities, so I expect to see more overtures along those lines. With his compassion and concern for the needy, he will be an ideal president if we enter a period of prolonged economic difficulty and large numbers of people need extra aid. In fact, I find the timing of President Hinckley’s exit interesting, as we appear to now be entering a new difficult phase that perhaps President Monson has been groomed to help see us through.

7. President Hinckley was noted for his openness with the media. What do you think will be some of the defining aspects of President Monson’s public persona?

I don’t think he’s as comfortable or effective speaking directly with the media as President Hinckley was, judging by the simplistic answers he gave to reporters at the press release announcing his presidency. I expect that his public role will be more along the lines of an example than a Hinckley-esque spokesman, with many opportunities to participate in charities and community outreach efforts. I predict he will come across more as a public doer of good works than as a public communicator.

8. President Monson was asked at his initial news conference about whether he had a message for people who are on the outs, so to speak, with the church, and his response was that the church needs those people and would like them to come back. Do you think those people will feel than anything has changed? Will anyone respond to that invitation?

I think disaffected Mormons largely see the Monson presidency as less tolerant of alternative viewpoints than the Hinckley presidency. President Monson has a more conservative, lowbrow persona than President Hinckley did. He’s certainly not as polarizing as President Packer would be, but I think he’s viewed as less intellectual and culturally enlightened than President Hinckley was. I see President Monson as reaffirming the status quo and the lowest common denominator rather than taking any fresh, frank approach on addressing issues and nuances that alienate people from the Church.

—Check out some provocative, unconventional, yet ultimately faith-affirming Mormon books at ZarahemlaBooks.com and/or check out my personal blog.

Nearly all these feelings focus on my career situation. I’m ten years into a wonderful second marriage, so that’s not affected. But I sense the crisis spilling over somewhat into my religion/faith. For this post, I thought I would do a bit of self-inventory in the spirit of “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”
To begin, let me tell you two ways in which this midlife crisis is NOT affecting my religion/faith, so you’ll understand more where I’m coming from:

1) Although I’m aware of some aberrations, inconsistencies, and other unresolved areas in Mormon history and doctrine, these areas honestly do not trouble me much. I find that the solid aspects of the faith far outweigh the unresolved areas, and I’m content to wait and see on those areas, which I feel confident will eventually be explained to my satisfaction. Certainly I can’t imagine any other lens through which to understand life and negotiate my way through it than Mormonism.

2) I don’t find myself facing significant doubts or problems related to the temple-recommend questions. Only three questions give me any pause: A) When asked if I affiliate with any group or individual whose teachings or practices are contrary to or oppose those accepted by the Church, because I have inactive and nonmember friends and I participate in several alternative LDS forums. B) When asked if I earnestly strive to do my duty in the Church, because I tend to do the minimum. C) When asked if I keep all the covenants that I made in the temple, because I’m sure I could always do MUCH more with sacrifice, consecration, etc. Other than that, I’m totally on board.

So where is my midlife crisis spilling over into my religion/faith? It mainly has to do with what I would term the Mormon lifestyle. Here’s the essence of my midlife Mormon questioning: Must the Mormon lifestyle be quite so programmed, regimented, and one-size-fits-all standardized, or is it OK to do some customizing and setting of one’s own quotas and benchmarks for good works? I’m not talking about rationalizing paying 5% tithing or drinking beer only once a month; I’m talking about those aspects of the Mormon lifestyle that are not explicitly required to maintain a temple recommend, instead functioning as what I would call sub-commandments:

Home teaching: I can see the value of home teaching for socially bonding together a ward and, rarely in my experience, helping families who really need it. However, with my personal and family time under increased pressure and each month passing by so quickly, once a month just feels way too frequent for both visiting and being visited. My midlife self asks, Why can’t it be acceptable for me to set my own quota of quarterly, which I could do willingly and happily? I’m close to making this preference known, but it’s hard because it would offend others.

Daily scripture study: I’m grateful for the scriptures and recognize that they help establish the foundation of our church. However, I personally think they’re a bit overhyped as to how much we can keep getting out of them by rereading them over and over. I’m a passionate reader, and I have tried to do daily scripture study at different times in my life, but it always ends up feeling overall tedious, with the occasional smidgeon of new insight. Rather than not study scriptures at all, I’ve recently given my midlife self permission to read one random chapter from the Book of Mormon each Sunday and call it good.

Temple attendance: The expectation is once a month, but I’ve dwindled to once a year or less, so I’ve set my midlife goal to attend every six months. Again, I personally find the spiritual benefits of temple attendance to be overhyped, and I don’t get what people mean when they say, “I learn something new every time.” Yes, a big component of temple attendance is serving others—so I ask you, do the dead somehow view the movie through our eyes? If not, I hope the church eventually starts offering a streamlined ordinance-only option. Think how much more work would get done! And I’d go more often if the session were an hour-plus shorter.

Dress code: I’ve personally come to reject the Mormon priesthood dress code, disliking it on both the symbolic and practical levels. I think it’s cultural, not doctrinal. So here in my midlife, I don’t always wear a tie to church, never a white shirt, don’t even own a suit, sometimes wear nice leather sandals to church without socks in summer, and often wear a pair of newer black Levi’s to church. I choose to wear a groomed beard and would never shave it off just because some church leader asked. (Frankly, I’ve been a little disappointed that no one’s yet given me the opportunity to stand up for myself on this issue.)

Odds and ends: I’ve found that I’m willing to fast every other month. We hit family home evening every second or third week. I get to skip priesthood and Sunday school once a month. During church, I can read church magazines (Ensign, Sunstone, and Dialogue). I never sing hymns, but I open the hymnal for the sacrament hymn and mentally follow along.

I guess over the years all the religious busywork has just become too much and too often for me, but if I can set my own pace, it helps me feel more in control and more willing to get the most out of what I’m able and willing to do, instead of resenting it or secretly just not doing it at all and feeling guilty. I’ve seen many people fall into all-or-nothing or slippery-slope modes of thinking when it comes to practicing the Mormon religion, but I don’t think it always has to be that way, especially on this sub-commandment level.

Maybe all this is obvious to some of you already, but for me it’s been a midlife awakening to figure out how I can continue enduring to the end without just getting sick of it all and slipping into coasting mode, like I did halfway through my mission. Maybe I come across as a self-indulgent wimp, but at least I’m still holding onto the iron rod.

What about you? Have you had or do you anticipate having a distinctively Mormon midlife crisis? And what’s your take on dealing with the day-to-day benchmarks and quotas on all this sub-commandment stuff?

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Even after living through it myself, I still can’t imagine how this was done! How could these super-parents keep going through all those pregnancies and babies and all those expenses, not to mention the drain on their personal time and energy? You just don’t see families that big anymore, even in Mormonism. For my Generation X and perhaps many younger Baby Boomers too, a gigantic family is six or seven kids as opposed to ten or eleven, while most of us just have three or four kids, maybe slightly more than the secular average but not by much.

I’m trying to think of reasons for this decline, and I’d love to hear your rebuttals and/or expansions. Here are mine in no particular order, some obvious but others stretching:

• Today’s car-seat and booster-seat regulations are so draconian, as opposed to my childhood when toddlers and older just rattled around loose in the back of the Ford Country Squire.

• Schoolteachers today generally assign more homework and expect more parent involvement, so you can’t keep up with as many kids academically any more. Same with extracurricular activities.

• Because of today’s safety concerns (whether real or media-hyped), we keep much closer track of our kids, which makes it less practical to have so many.

• Maybe we’re generally more selfish, hedonistic, and materialistic than earlier generations, perhaps even in ways we’re not fully aware of. Of course, this means less resources sacrified for having kids and more moms working outside the home. (I don’t buy the idea that wages have lagged behind inflation so badly that we can’t have as many kids; I think it’s our inflated expectations that wages haven’t kept up with).

• Birth control is less frowned upon within Mormonism nowadays. I’m amazed by how many rather orthodox, conservative Mormon men of my generation have gotten vasectomies. (I got one too at age 39, and I quite love being free of fertility baggage.)

• While Saturday’s Warrior affirmed the ethics of our parents’ generation, perhaps it worked some powerful reverse-psychology mojo on us kids who were young then and are procreating now.

• I think today’s overwhelming media choices, electronic gadgetry, and other worldly distractions are stretching our attention spans so thin that our plates feel fuller without as many children as our parents’ generation could accommodate. For them, perhaps life was simpler and they didn’t feel pulled in as many different directions, thus leaving more time and energy for offspring.

• Perhaps the spirits who are coming to us these days are generally more challenging, difficult personalities, full of unusual energy and potential that takes more parental energy to shape and channel. Or maybe kids are just harder to handle these days because they’re overpampered and overstimulated and/or because deep down they crave more attention because they can sense that their parents are too preoccupied with other things.

Additionally, I find myself asking sometimes-contradictory questions about the implications of our lowered birth rates, including some questions in Mormon magical thinking mode:

• In the afterlife, will we become reacquainted with souls who would have been in our family if we had not stopped having kids?

• Are we doing a better job of parenting with fewer kids, helping them become stronger to withstand the sure-to-increase stresses and temptations of the latter days?

• Will our civilization reach a point where families with large numbers of children couldn’t survive under future privations, so our Mormon culture is being inspired to start cutting back now in preparation for coming hard times?

• Will divine blessings and protections be reduced for those of us who choose to sacrifice less in the area of having kids and perhaps even for our culture as a whole because so many of us are making that choice?

• Will we somehow delay the Second Coming because of the backlog of spirits who are supposed to be born before the Millennium starts?

So, does any of this trigger some response or ideas? Will the pendulum ever swing back the other way to having more kids, or will we continue sticking close to worldly trends? And why did my three-year-old color in all his fingernails with a permanent black Sharpie tonight?

So, what does this mean? Something along the lines of our modern-day astrology, Ouija boards, and Wiccanism, or something deeper and darker? Were there Nephite wizards and witches walking around actually casting spells on people?

Even more compelling to me is the question of whether we can expect to reach a similar state in our own civilization, or post-civilization if and when today’s order breaks down. Do we already have “sorceries, and witchcrafts, and magics” infiltrating our society in some form, and how much worse will they get?

I sometimes wonder if movie special effects, fantasy stories featuring magic, psychedelic drugs, and other cultural trends are preparing our civilization for a time of “sorceries, and witchcrafts, and magics,” a time when amazing supernatural signs and wonders from the evil one will become openly apparent. And when that time comes, I expect that priesthood power will be similarly beefed up to match and counter the wizardry and that God’s people will enjoy righteous supernatural reinforcement and support.

What do you think? Are we getting closer to latter-latter-day times when both evil and good supernaturalism will become more open and prominent aspects of the battle? And what forms will these aspects take?