In one of my previous posts, a few commenters seemed to try to condemn a mentally ill man for killing a bishop, but I think we should not be so quick to judge.  In discussing suicide, Lund says that General Authorities have often counseled people that we should not judge the mentally ill.

I have attended several funerals in my lifetime because I’ve worked primarily with the young people of the church where some of them have committed suicide.  On several of those occasions a General Authority has been there to speak.  I was interested as I listened to the funeral sermon how similar their counsel was in every case, because in every case there was a suicide they said, ‘don’t judge the soul’ and do not assume that they will be in the Telestial Kingdom even though they have taken their life.  You have no right to make that judgment.  Only God can make that judgment.’  I’m paraphrasing several actual talks.  We don’t have the right to make that judgment and we don’t know.  We don’t know the state of mind or the spiritual condition or the things that brought that about and only God can make that judgment.

I am uncomfortable in dealing with the mentally ill.  I previously blogged about a man I home teach with some serious mental illness.  While he is friendly with me and seems to be taking his medications, recently he took medication with beer, and ended up in the hospital.  He does seem to share some similarities to the man who killed the bishop in California.  Maybe I’m just paranoid, but he makes me nervous even though we get along well.

What can we do to help the mentally ill effectively?  How can we deal with them effectively without harshly judging them?

For the bulk of my not-so-long life I have been in a perpetual cycle of shame with varying frequency and intensity. My worldview was shaped by my Mormon upbringing and I worked diligently to fit the mold completely. I was a good kid. No, I was a GREAT kid! Seriously, I did well in school, got my Eagle Scout, served a successful mission, never committed any egregious sins, read my scriptures nightly all through my teenage years, never touched any coffee, tea, tobacco, or alcohol, and pretty much put a checkmark in every box in the proverbial Mormon checklist!

Nevertheless, this was part of the cycle. As long as I was perfect I never had any problems. I merrily went on my way convinced my worldview was a correct interpretation of my existence, assured that my lifestyle choice would reap rewards. I will not deny that this leaked over into a self-righteous attitude which, on more than one occassion, led to my snarkiness toward those whom I perceived were not living these standards. In fact, though I’ve not been told this, I hold this attitude responsible for destroying more than one relationship in my life.

But alas, I am not perfect. I make mistakes, and when I do, I beat myself up badly over them. Keep in mind I’m not talking about major things here like murder, or chastity sins, or something, I’m talking about little things – things that really should be in the noise. It’s these times when the shame monster rears its ugly head and takes a bite out of my otherwise healthy self-esteem. This isn’t just some sort of twinge of guilt I feel, but shame, pure, and awful! And it doesn’t go away until I beat myself up emotionally to a sufficient level. Obviously the shame is further aggravated by the sure knowledge that once again I have failed to live up the expectations my worldview dictates.

It’s during these times the control freak in me is like a belligerent 5-year old, wanting to get his way, using all sorts of behavioral tricks, tantrums, pouting, all to try and restore order, control, and most importantly that self-confidence that has been shredded! During these times the result might be anger, or a bout with depression. Perhaps the object of frustration becomes those I love. In any case, until the control freak is able to restore self-esteem, things will be a bit rough.

Needless to say, such a paradigm is not healthy for me in the least!

And yet, at least one solution is as easy as allowing the control freak to dictate the terms on which I accept my involvement in my tribe. Through my faith crisis I learned this lesson very poignantly. I was in charge of my spirituality – not the church, not my bishop, not my teachers. And just as I could not blame them for my unhealthy worldview, I could also not allow them unchecked access to it either. It is me that decides what I should do and why I should do it. I get to decide the terms on which I participate in my culture. It’s true that I cannot choose the consequences, but my power of choice also allows me the possibility to insulate myself from them in my tribal context.

This empowerment was very enlightening to me during a dark period of my life in which I nearly left the church. I was able to resolve and separate concerns with leaders, history, the organization itself, etc. I could stay a member of my tribe but it would be on my terms, and it would be for my own benefit.

But it is hard to supplant a worldview. Unfortunately I find myself occassionally slipping into the old cycle. Sometimes in an ungaurded moment, the control freak forgets the conditions of my participation and leaves me vulnerable, allowing unchecked access to my healthier, but still budding worldview. The shame soon sets in as I again realize I do not measure up to the completely impossible standard my former worldview erected.

It is a perpetual struggle, one that is naturally built into my personality, but is aggravated, and made to be unhealthy, by a strict culture with high standards. Pulling myself out of the cycle is an exercise in meditation, prayer, challenging false beliefs, understanding, and above all, modifying my expectations!

But I want to give credit where credit is due. If you have not seen the church’s new Combating Pornography website, may I suggest you check it out. It is not just for those struggling with the addiction of pornography (yes, I said addiction), but for spouses of those struggling, parents, leaders, etc. I think everyone could glean some useful insight about an epidemic that has proved to invade nearly every life in one way or another.

In short, I think the site is brilliant, and I give much kudos to the church for the content and purpose. I really think it’s great! Here’s what I like about it:

1. The star article (IMHO) is a well researched, well documented, elaboration on the nature of pornography addiction, by a renowned expert in the field. The second to last paragraph is my favorite:
   

   Why is it important to understand that compulsive pornography use is an actual addiction? By recognizing this, we will treat it with the respect required to overcome an addiction. For instance, no spiritual leader would tell a member who confesses an alcohol addiction to pray and repent without recommending counseling and 12-step support in such programs as the Addiction Recovery Program with LDS Family Services and Alcoholics Anonymous. Similarly, with the proper perspective on sexual addiction, we should also recommend that those afflicted with pornography and other sexual addictions, in addition to proceeding through the steps of repentance, will also seek recovery with therapy and group support.

2. The site references sources and scholarship about overcoming pornography. While I am not a social worker, or clinical psychologist, I recognize the most commonly accepted patterns in treating addiction/depression. See here, and here for great examples.
3. There is practical advice in Mormonism’s favorite form – a checklist.
4. There is a good mix of emphasis on moral cleanliness, openness in discussing human sexuality, physical reality, and spiritual ideology. When I read the articles I get the impression that we’re not in the business of simply condemning this as sin and parroting to people they “pray and read scriptures” more diligently. We are acknowledging a deeper problem in human psychology/biology that warrants our most sincere efforts.
5. The church is sincerely dedicated to helping people with this problem. There are conference talks (at least one every six months), there is a website, there are very inexpensive counselling and other professional services, there is a booklet and associated meetings for overcoming addiction, etc.

I really do believe that the LDS church does a lot of great things in this world. There are people who are hurt by the culture, there are social and cultural problems I wish were different, and there are issues in our theology that don’t work for me. But for this very uncertain Mormon, I am truly grateful to be a part of an organization that does try, in many ways, to influence people for the better.

Our ward realigned ward boundaries a few months ago, and we got a new bishopric, as well as a new Elder’s quorum presidency.  With all the changes, I had a few months in which I was not a home teacher.  I was given my list of 3 families to visit.  Two of the three families were fairly active.  The other name on my list was just a name, I’ll call Ted.  In December, our bishopric asked all home teachers to pick up a 2 liter bottle of root beer to distribute to our families.

I visited the apartment of Ted in December.  He wasn’t home; an older woman (who I assume must have been his mother) answered the door in a walker.  My list showed Ted had not been visited in over a year.  The woman said Ted was not there right now, thanked me for the root beer, and explained that she would have invited me in, but she was sick and didn’t want me to get sick.  I asked if she preferred I stop by unannounced or set appointments, and she said it was ok to drop by in the future.  She explained that they didn’t go to church very often, and Ted often worked Sundays, but I was welcome to stop by again.  (Normally home teachers have partners, but I haven’t been assigned a partner yet.)

So, I dropped by again in January to meet Ted.  He didn’t invite me in, but we talked on the cold porch for about a half hour.  I soon realized as I talked to Ted that he was mentally ill.  He confirmed my suspicions when he told me that he heard voices, had anger issues, and suffered from depression.  I asked if he lived there with his mom, and he confirmed that he did.  He explained that he could afford to live in the apartment by himself, but her social security check made it easier to make ends meet.  He said that when the time comes for his mother to die, he might go live in a mental health facility.  He mentioned that he made a living on disability checks–he had been declared mentally disabled due to depression.

In the half hour I talked to Ted, he told a series of strange, but probably true stories about his life.  He had been married once, but left an unfaithful wife.  In response, he got drunk at a bar, and was angry enough to fire a gun.  It was unclear to me if he was firing the weapon at someone or not, but he was arrested and spent time in the LA County jail, where he was physically assaulted by inmates (I’ll spare some gruesome details.)  This is what caused his “anger issues.”  He also mentioned that he was surprised that a mentally ill person could get a gun in California, and then proceeded to fear that Pres Obama was going to take away his gun.  (If anyone needs a gun taken away, it is this man.)

While he had some pretty colorful language he was friendly enough.  He asked where and when church was, and said he would like to come.  However, when he learned that church meets at 1 pm, he didn’t like that time of day.  He has a sleeping disorder, and often is asleep at that time of day.

While we all need God in our lives, I’m not sure that church is a good place for this man to be.  The thought crossed my mind to invite him to church (before he volunteered to attend), but after hearing all these rambling statements, I did not feel I wanted to expose my family to him.  It is obvious he needs serious mental health help.

I’m not sure how to help this man as a home teacher.  I guess my inclination is to visit him monthly, and listen to him, but I have no idea how to handle the situation.  He seems quite unstable, and I feel like he has the potential to cause harm to church members–frankly I didn’t like hearing that he owned a gun and had anger issues.  He was very rambling in his conversation.  So, the question comes to mind, “What would Jesus do?”  Aside from heal him of his mental illness, I have no idea.  How would you handle the situation?

A close friend of mine who wishes to remain anonymous recently saw in the shadow of the temple his story follows

In October, I was fortunate to attend the Portland, Oregon, screening of the movie, In the Shadow of the Temple. http://www.intheshadowofthetemple.com The screening was hosted by the producers, Karen Di Millia and Dennis Lavery. Prior to the screening Dennis and Karen spoke for 10 minutes and explained how they started this project. After the screening they took questions and answers for roughly 30 minutes.

Lavery and DeMillia, who are not–and never have been–LDS, originally planned to make a movie about people who had left the religion of their youth. They attended a meeting of the Portland Humanist Society, explained their project, and asked if anyone had such stories they would be willing to share. In the course of discussing the project with members of the society, they were told that who they really needed to talk to was Sue Emmett, who had left the LDS church. After talking with Sue and others with whom she put them in touch, they decided to re-focus their project on the experience of those who have left the LDS church.

They did hundreds of hours of interviews over two years and edited it down to a 55 minute film. The film is very moving–a tribute to those who shared their stories as well as DeMillia and Lavery’s videography and editing skills.

About two dozen people appear in interviews in the film. Each story is unique, but a common thread runs throughout them all. All faced a similar rejection by family, friends and community. Some of those interviewed have left the church. Others no longer believe, but remain active because of family or community pressure. The latter are filmed in shadows, to obscure their identity. The film refers to these people as “Shadow Mormons.” They define “Shadow Mormons” as those who privately do not accept the exacting doctrine of the Church, but publicly profess to be true believers. They are in shadow to protect their relationships with family, friends and employers.

Someone commented to me after the film, “That’s you. You’re a Shadow Mormon.”

Yes, I’m a Shadow Mormon. Maybe that’s why this film hit me so hard. I haven’t believed in over 20 years – most of my adult life. Yet, during that time I’ve paid my tithing, gone to the temple, served in bishoprics and high councils and done all the things that were expected of me. Why? Because I am tied to the church by family and community.

The story of “Grace” (not her real name) resonated with me because it was so similar to mine. Her pain, and anger, were born of all the energy she has given to a religion that she doesn’t believe in. Finding out that the Church was not true was like a death experience for her. Like me, she tried following the Church’s teachings to fast, pray, read the scriptures and yet never felt she received the “burning in her bosom” that is promised in the scriptures.

What of the families and communities of these people? What are their stories, their experiences with loved ones who go through a process of losing belief and leaving the church. Only one person who was a family or friend agreed to be interviewed for the film. The believing husband that was interviewed told how he still loved his wife, even though she has left the church. What about the others? Are they embarrassed to say that the Church was more important than their relationship with the person who left?

The saddest stories, to me, were of divorce caused by one spouse believing and the other not believing. Michelle (another woman interviewed in the film) said her heart was broken that her husband would choose the Church over her. He told their marriage therapist that if she had not been Mormon he never would have married her. “There was more to me than being a Mormon,” she said. “And I thought that there was more to him.”

The dictionary defines empathy as “the intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.” We could all use a little more empathy for those around us. I have had several people tell me, “I can’t imagine how a person could leave the church.” Either they need a better imagination or they need more empathy. Maybe they just need to see this film.

One of the questions at the screening–one that Lavery could not answer–was, “How do we get the right people to see this film?” Sadly, many members of the church would not even consider it. (It screened in Salt Lake City in October and got almost no media coverage.) The film does not try to de-convert anyone or disparage the doctrine of the church. It doesn’t assert that someone is right because he or she believes, or that someone else is right because he or she leaves the church. This film is about accepting people regardless of what they believe, and about how we treat those who believe differently than we do. I wish every member of the church could see this film.

Film Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICbylWK-i2Q&NR=1

Recently I drove up Little Cottonwood Canyon with my brother and nephew.  This is the canyon in which many of your ancestors pulled out  the granite for the construction of the salt lake temple. As soon as we passed the granite facings on the side of the canyon my nephew played a song on his iPod by Corb Lund Brother Brigham Brother Young and it brought mental flashes into my mind of men working on the side of the mountain blasting granite out of it.    It made me think of the struggles that men and women had even back then with the faith in many ways very similar to our day. From what I have read Mr Lund isn’t LDS but has relatives that are. Im assuming one of his relatives is a historian buff? Its probably safe to presume this song will never be played in a chapel but I can’t help liking it!  You can listen to his song Here

Brother Brigham Brother Young

music and lyrics by Corb Lund

I have sinned so gravely Brother Brigham, Brother Young
I have sinned so gravely Brother Young
That only you can save me Brother Brigham, Brother Young
That only you can save me Brother Young

I have revealed the temples secrets Brother Brigham, Brother Young
The temple garments, oaths and secrets Brother Young
I have apostatized and doubted Brother Brigham, Brother Young
And borne my testimony falsely Brother Young

And I have loved a woman Brother Brigham, Brother Young
A woman in adultery Brother Young
I have also wed a negress Brother Brigham, Brother Young
My fifth wife has some color Brigham Young

I now see that you’re a prophet Brother Brigham, Brother Young
A living, breathing prophet Brother Young
And now I believe the revelations Brother Brigham, Brother Young
I now believe your revelations, every one

Even the ones beyond all reason Brother Brigham, Brother Young
Even the ones beyond all reason Brother Young
For you’re the Lord’s own earthly prophet Brother Brigham, Brother Young
And he’s simply testing in our faith o Brigham Young

My only hope for exaltation Brother Brigham, Brother Young
My only chance for exaltation Brother Young
Is to send me o’er the rim of the basin Brother Brigham, Brother Young
The rim of the Great Salt Lake Basin Brother Young

For water cannot save me Brother Brigham, Brother Young
Baptismal water cannot save me Brigham Young
My sins are just too deep a dye o Brother Brigham, Brother Young
My sins are just too deep a stain o Brother Young

So send Avenging Angels Brother Brigham, Brother Young
Won’t you send Destroying Danites Brother Young
To spill my blood upon the earth o Brother Brigham, Brother Young

So what do you think?

Do you find the song offensive?

Is it historicaly accurate of what may have happened to some of the saints in the salt lake valley?

Does it bare some similarites to what we have gone through in our day or not?

If we can blame depression on Mormon Culture, apparently it is fair game to blame Mormon Culture for making Utah the Happiest State in the nation, according to this MSNBC article.  Let’s look at the Top 10:

Here are the top 10 states and their average well-being scores (out of a possible 100 points):

1. Utah: 69.2
2. Hawaii: 68.2
3. Wyoming: 68
4. Colorado: 67.3
5. Minnesota: 67.3
6. Maryland: 67.1
7. Washington: 67.1
8. Massachusetts: 67
9. California: 67
10. Arizona: 66.8

The article says that researchers reviewed “overall evaluation of their lives, emotional health, physical health, healthy behaviors (such as whether a person smokes or exercises), and job satisfaction.”

Other interesting quotes:  “New research suggests U.S. states with wealthier, better educated and more tolerant residents are also happier on average.”

Wait, Utah residents are wealthier, better educated, and more tolerant?  That seems to fly in the face of conventional wisdom, especially on the Bloggernacle.

Oh wait, let’s look at the wealth criteria again:  “the top three states, Utah, Hawaii and Wyoming are outliers, as they aren’t considered the wealthiest of the pack.”  Ok, apparently Utah is better educated and more tolerant.

How about tolerance?  “Diener points out that Utah is conservative, and research has suggested such right-leaning individuals are a bit happier than others. Hawaii’s ranking could be due to a relaxed culture, he said, adding that the three states may just have strong families and social relationships.”

Here’s another nugget from the article:

Of the personality factors, neuroticism took a toll on a state’s cheery count, suggesting people living in the happiest states are more relaxed than their gloomy counterparts. For instance, West Virginia, Mississippi and Kentucky were ranked as highly neurotic and showed lower well-being scores. Utah, on the other hand, had a significantly lower level of neuroticism than other states.

How is Utah the most depressed AND the happiest?

The ICM poll of 10,000 people in the USA, UK, Israel, India, South Korea, Indonesia, Nigeria, Russia, Mexico and Lebanon was carried out for the BBC

It reveals that only 46% of respondents in the UK said they have always believed in God – 27% less than the average. Only Russia (42%) and South Korea (28%) were lower. Furthermore just 52% of UK respondents believed God (or a Higher Power) created the universe, compared to 85% in the USA, 83% in Mexico, 99% in Indonesia and 96% in Lebanon.The highest levels of belief are found in the poorer nations of Nigeria (98%), India (92%) and Indonesia (97%).However, the USA – the richest nation polled – has a very high level of belief. Only 13% of those polled in America said they found it hard to believe in God (a Higher power) when there was so much suffering in the world.Yet this compares to more than half (52%) of those polled in the UK – the highest of all the countries – and more than twice the average. The figures for Lebanon were 2% and Nigeria 12%.

The survey found that Only 19% of those in the UK said they would die for their God/beliefs. This compares to 37% in Israel, 90% of those polled in Indonesia and Nigeria, and 71% in the USA and Lebanon.

A staggering 78% of those polled in the USA claimed to have studied religious texts, by far the largest figure, followed by 51% in Nigeria and 42% in the UK. This    compares to an average of 33%.

The poll also looked at the place of religion in the world. Almost a third (29%) of people in the UK believe that the world would be a more peaceful place without beliefs in God but very few people in other countries agreed. Just 6% of those polled in America agreed with this view, 11% in Israel and 9% in India. The average across all ten countries was 10%.Only 15% of those polled in America blamed people of other religions for much of the trouble in the world compared with more than a third (37%) in the UK and 33% in Israel.This figure fell to 8% of those polled in Indonesia, 24% in Lebanon and 17% in India.

The poll also looked at levels of attendance at organised religious services in the UK compared to the rest of the world. Across the ten countries, an average of 46% regularly attend a religious service but the figure was 21% in the UK, the second lowest behind Russia (7%). The highest figure was 91% for Nigerians, with 54% in the USA.

Furthermore just 29% of UK respondents said they had been encouraged to believe in God by someone outside their family, compared with 57% in the USA.

With regards to prayer, a total of 95% of Nigerians polled said they prayed regularly as did 67% of those polled in the USA with further numbers praying occasionally at times of crisis. 28% in the UK said they prayed regularly and 41% in Israel. However 25% of people in the UK and 29% of people in Israel said they never prayed.

The poll did reveal however that nearly 30% of all atheists polled admitted they prayed sometimes.

Asked whether a belief in a God/higher power makes for a better human being, well over 80% of people in most countries agreed, but by far the lowest figure was in the UK with just 56%.

Furthermore, just 42% of UK respondents believed God (or a higher power) judges their actions and the way they lived their lives compared to 76% in America, 72% in Israel, 81% in Nigeria and an average of 70%.

Exploring the issue of tolerance of different religions the poll found that more than 90% of all respondents in Nigeria, Indonesia and Lebanon believed their God was the only true God.This compares to 70% in Israel and just 31% in the UK.

The majority of those polled when asked if they believed death was the end disagreed. This was the case for more than half of the UK respondents (51%), 79% of those polled in Nigeria, 75% in Lebanon and 74% in the USA.

Looking at how attitudes change across different religions, the poll found that while 85% of Hindus and 83% of Muslims said they prayed regularly, only 65% of Christians did and barely a third (38%) of Jews.

When asked if their God was the only true God, 95% of Muslims said yes, compared with 68% of Christians and 66% of Jews.

But when asked if other religions were to blame for the troubles in the world, 34% of Jews agreed, while only 24% of Christians, 18% of Hindus and 14% of Muslims agreed.

What do you think?

This post isn’t about marriage. It isn’t about sex.

It’s about love:  something that we all desire, crave, yearn, seek, and strive for. I have, and so have you.

Love comes in different forms: the kind that we have for a friend, a brother or sister, our parents, or for a fellow human being — which can develop into the very pinnacle of love; namely romantic love.

Romantic love is not sex. Neither does it necessarily involve or lead to marriage or sex. It’s that feeling of being captivated by another human being and caring for them, as well as expressing our emotions for them verbally or physically, often in a non-sexual manner such as holding hands, embracing, caressing, and innocent kissing: behaviour that is appropriate, according to LDS tradition, even between a couple that is not yet married. In other words, it’s not like loving your mom.

It’s not unheard of for people to live their entire lives and, if they never enter into marriage, never go beyond the non-sexual displays of affection that I just mentioned. Contrary to what some may think, most human beings are capable of living and functioning without sex, without suffering any “damage.” I’m not sure, however, that the same would be true for all who desire and yearn for romantic love, but are denied that opportunity. Can you imagine life without love? If you are not currently in a romantic relationship, you probably have it as a hope or are always on the lookout for an opportunity, even subconsciously. Right?

I’ve tried to think of an example of love that would be considered evil or immoral, unless it’s incestuous or between an adult and minor. When it comes to two consenting adults, I can’t really think of any examples of “immoral love” that aren’t somehow based on sex or deceit (such as an extramarital affair). A sexual relationship between two unmarried adults is immoral. Sex is, in this case, sinful. But is their love also a sin?

Look at the picture above. If the two people were of the same sex, how would you feel about it? Would you feel differently about it? Would you see their behaviour as immoral and something to be avoided? Why or why not?

This “compromise,” if you want to call it that, will not satisfy all. It will not satisfy those who demand no less than equal marriage status within the Church, heterosexual or homosexual, as well as Church-sanctioned homosexual relations; neither will it satisfy those who believe that two members of the same sex who even sit together like that couple in the picture are treading down a wicked path. The term “compromise” is, actually, misleading in my opinion, because the way I see it, the Church would not be compromising anything in regards to the doctrines or policies related to marriage, families, or the Law of Chastity. The only thing that would change would be that heterosexual and homosexual members of the Church would truly be held to the same standards of chastity and morality outside of marriage. That would mean that a couple, such as depicted in the photo, sitting on a bench on BYU campus or outside the Tabernacle, would face no disciplinary action for their innocent display of romantic affection — whether heterosexual or homosexual.

We know that we have a problem in the Church with homosexuals feeling alone, ostracized, without real purpose, and some even resorting to suicide.

Would acceptance of non-sexual same-sex relationships within the Church help to ease the burden of those who struggle and help them to remain in the Church?

What if gay members of the Church were truly held to the same standards of the Law of Chastity when it comes to expression of love and dating relationships?

What, if anything, would the Church be sacrificing or compromising on in order for gay members to be able to date openly in the same way as heterosexual couples without facing discipline?

Why is/isn’t this a good idea?

Anna Jarvis continued the cause, and created the Mother’s Day International Association in 1912.  The Vancouver Sun said, “She was specific about the location of the apostrophe; it was to be a singular possessive, for each family to honour their mother, not a plural possessive commemorating all mothers in the world.”  Woodrow Wilson was the president who first signed the law designating May 9, 1914, as the first Official Mother’s Day celebration.

This past week at church, my bishop talked about how hard Mother’s Day can be for some people.  I remember dating a girl whose father had passed away, and she remarked that she hated Father’s Day for that reason.  I also thought about a brother and sister of mine who both passed away (separately) both leaving behind 4 young children.  Mother’s Day and Father’s Day is tough for my nieces and nephews.  I also think about how tough the day can be for childless couples who crave children.  As a person who got married much later in life than Mormon culture expects, I can personally tell you on behalf of me and my wife, how difficult Mother’s Day and Father’s Day can be for singles who desire marriage and children, yet remain unmarried for whatever the reason is.

How do we celebrate mothers and motherhood, and still be sensitive to those who may struggle with the holiday?

Having said that, I need to point out that depression and issues relative to similar physiological difficulties that suppress our joy and impede our growth in this life can be an exception to that last statement. I hope NOBODY takes what I said above as a reason to feel guilty over their struggles to conquer those types of difficulties. I realize completely that there are some things for some people for which enduring to the end is the only course. That’s why medical help should NEVER be stigmatized in any way for depression or other similar challenges. If proper medication provides a degree of peace for someone, taking that medication is an act of establishing a degree of accountability that will be rewarded, imo.

I believe the whole doctrine of accountability is one of the most beautiful in Mormonism. It see it as so much more expansive than restrictive. We tend to focus on the “punitive” aspects of accountability (“You are responsible for the effects of your actions when you are accountable and will be punished for your mistakes.”), but we also should understand more fully the “merciful” aspects of that same principle. (“You are not responsible for the effects of your actions when you are not accountable and will be covered by God’s grace for those mistakes.”)

We understand and acknowledge openly the concept as it relates to the “extremes” (children and the mentally handicapped on one end; fully accountable adults on the other end), but we often overlook it when dealing with the “emotionally handicapped” and the “abused” and any others whose thoughts and actions are influenced by things they didn’t choose – things often outside their full control. We are learning more and more about how to treat these things, but I believe there are still so many manifestations of these types of issues which we haven’t even identified completely. Therefore, “Judge not” becomes an even more vital command.

Having spent much time talking with many people who struggle mightily with feelings of guilt and isolation and despair and unworthiness, I have come to believe that many of them do so largely because, to some degree, they are wired to do so (either at birth or through trauma) – that they simply can’t help those feelings of despair and guilt that arise out of unrealistic expectations. I believe strongly that those people are not “accountable” for their actions during those times of guilt and despair in quite the same way as others are without those episodes. I’m not saying that they are completely free from the responsibility to understand their condition and try to “repent” (simply meaning “change”); I believe all have the command to look inward at themselves, identify their weaknesses and strive to improve.  What I am saying is that “repentance” in these cases often is as much (if not more) about learning practical coping mechanisms (including taking medication) and proactively acquiring personal characteristics than it is about the classic “exercise of will” often associated with repentance.

If we understood more fully that accountability is the concept that allows repentance to be a positive thing (that we have been given the freedom to proactively participate in the progress of our souls – to construct a process of growth that includes almost anything that helps us become “righteous” (right / in harmony with God), I believe we could begin to tackle the “natural” guilt associated with the effects of the Fall in a much more productive and ennobling manner than we tend to do currently.  We could separate “sin” (for which we are accountable), “transgression” (for which we might or might not be accountable), “weakness” (for which we are not accountable) and “natural, mortal crap” (which just is, well, crap).

So, how do you think of accountability?  Do you see it as a positive or negative concept?  How do you think what we now call “disabilities” affect accountability?  Are there other things that you believe reduce or impact accounatbility?  What are some things that we often associate with sin and guilt that you believe should not be classified as sin and induce guilt?  How do you feel about taking medication to alter one’s natural moods and/or actions? What are any other implications of accountability that are not addressed in this post?

Here are a few responses from various different individuals to this quote from this weekend’s General Conference:

• “It’s not as if you’re going to hear that and say “Right. I guess I don’t have doubts.” It seems more likely that people will hear that and say “Right. I guess I don’t have faith.”"
• “Plenty of seemingly incompatible thoughts/emotions coexist in the same mind at the same time without dispelling each other. It’s like saying “being faithful in marriage means never having desires for another woman/man” when the truth is faithfulness in marriage is about staying committed in spite of those desires.”
• “If Joseph Smith hadn’t doubted a whole bunch of things would we even have the LDS Church?”
• “One popular ZEN proverb reads, “Where there is great doubt, there will be great awakening; small doubt, small awakening; no doubt, no awakening.” It’s refreshing and uplifting to think about doubt as a positive catalyst for reflection and self-discovery, rather than a weakness to be risen above.”
• “If faith means enough hope to act even though one is not absolutely certain of the result, the opposite is enough despair or discouragement that we become paralyzed from acting. If one calls that despair or discouragement “doubt”, then I agree that doubt is the opposite of faith.  However, I personally see doubt as uncertainty, recognizing the possibility that what we hope for or believe is not true. For me, that is an inherent component of faith. Without that uncertainty or doubt, I do not think faith exists (because it would be knowledge or certainty).”
• “I’ve heard plenty of Church leaders admit to feeling doubts, and Joseph Smith seemed full of them. But quotes like this do set-up a certain mindset among the “faithful” that they should never entertain doubt, or else. The sad thing here is that this state-of-mind is temporary at best, and can often lead to complete loss of faith. But some GC talks seem more designed to rally than educate, which explains stuff like this.”
• “What was most striking about Mother Theresa was the juxtaposition of faith and doubt in her life. She had such faith, yet such doubt at the same time. I think it’s totally bogus to pit faith and doubt against each other as opposites. They aren’t competitors, they’re collaborators – they encourage each other. Faith exists because of doubt, and doubt because of faith. IMO, faith without doubt is smug arrogance. Show me someone who has no doubt, and I’ll show you someone who has no faith.”
• “Pope Benedict referred to Mother Thesesa’s doubts as the “silence of God,” and said that all true believers must learn to deal with the silence of God which inevitably come to all of us.”
• “Elder Holland said Jesus needed to experience something like doubt. Joseph Smith certainly did–see the first verses of section 121. And the book of Job is full of doubts and anguish (although, in the condensed version we skip from Job’s refusal to condemn God and go straight to the restoration of his prior blessing, and we overlook his struggles and anguish and anger expressed in the intervening chapters).”
• “If faith is a spiritual gift, then only some will receive it. I’m paraphrasing, but the scripture says some will have the give of faith and some will have the gift to believe those with faith and some will have other gifts. And yet then we are told it is a sin if we don’t have this gift?”
• “When church leaders are asking for us to have faith in God, they really mean have faith in what they tell you about God and what the scriptures say about God, but neither are God, they are just ideas.”

What do you think?  Does doubt drive out faith?  Or is faith without doubt smug arrogance?  Is doubt an essential part of faith development?  Is some doubt bad (paralyzing doubt) and some good (energizing doubt)?  Is doubt the same as “the silence of God” that Mother Theresa, Joseph Smith, Jesus, and Job all experienced?  Do you view doubt as a complement to faith or the enemy of faith?  Is there a “war on doubt” in the church?

Discuss.

As my coach relates this story, she points out the reasoning of fencing moms: if their kid is doing well, it’s because their kid is the greatest thing ever in the world and will become an Olympic fencer. If their kid isn’t doing well, it’s because the coach is terrible and the kid needs to go to a better club. It couldn’t be the case that the fencer is doing poorly because he won’t follow instructions, practice often, keep his arm up, extend first, etc., Nope, it must be the coach.

This is just a specific case of a phenomenon where people take ownership of things that are good and abdicate things that are bad. It is the basis of the self-serving bias.

In the church, things can get a little bit different…sometimes, both good things and bad things are abdicated — after all, it was a “blessing of the Lord,” or it might have just been a “trial.”

But we also learn about our role in the process, especially with agency and free will. So, we point out that faith without works is dead…Some like to say we are saved ‘after all we can do’ (but, what we can do is not that much, since we are rather imperfect). We point out that those who are unrighteous (as an exercise of will) face negative consequences.

I’ve never liked this dichotomy. What is the bottom line? Are we free or are we buffeted by outside forces? How are we supposed to live under two conflicting ideals? A poem by Maya Angelou highlighting grace above action (and in a way giving some sense of disdain, I think, to action) annoyed me and I wrote about it on my blog a while back.

I don’t necessarily think that people are responsible for everything that comes their way. But I don’t think that in the vast majority of cases, we can just attribute things to the mysteries of the spirit or of the adversary. We can admit that we don’t know and what we think, but it seems to easy to fall into a trap of surety about things. It seems too much of a cop-out to say, “Well, I’m not perfect, but I have faith, so everything will be well” which is the vibe I get from the Angelou poem (even though I know that’s misrepresenting what Ms. Angelou was going for.)

…but how does that relate to the church? After all, that generally is a position not taken by LDS people, who recognize accountability and works in the interplay of faith.

Well, there are still some areas where members of the church will push off responsibility, so to speak. In the depression topic earlier here at MM, people were discussing what might be at play. And one comment by Jen set off my dark-side-of-the-moon alarm.

What about LDS people being targeted in a more “front line” approach by the adversary and his followers? Could this be a possibility? Is it possible that those who are striving to live in a “righteous” manner are also targeted more because of the light and knowledge they have?

This kind of thought rubs me the wrong way because it shifts everything away from things we might possibly work at fixing to something that is uncontrolled and uncontrollable. For example, Jen’s original comment might be applied to depression rates in Utah or porn consumption in Utah (both ideas were flying around)…so with both of these issues, it’s easy to think of *material, physical* variables that could be tested. It might not be the case, but we could test for stressful lifestyles…we could test for availability of “social medication” or of whatever factors. We might be way off in our hypothesizing, but at least with tangible variables, we can test things. Even if it’s genetic (something that appears to be something we can’t change), we can still *see* genes and theoretically come to a point where we can change those.

But with the adversary and his temptation, it’s like we give up. If we accept a real adversary that tempts people, then this is a constant of the universe. It’s not something we can work at eliminating (like we could for other factors). It’s not something we can work on improving on, because by default, as we get more “righteous,” the belief is that he works harder to stop us. So what can we do? Apparently, nothing that will be effective.

So, regardless of whether or not the adversary is out to get to us, it seems to me that this is not the place we should be going to for blame. It certainly could be that that little kid has an incapable coach and he needs to go to a different club, but he (and his satellite fencing mom) should look at his own practice and dedication first. He should look at tangible factors around him before attributing to the uncontrolled and uncontrollable.

…But then again, the opposite end (of attributing everything to our actions) gets kinda depressing too. (Your depression is your unrighteousness.)

Ever since I read the MHA study ranking Utah as the #1 most depressed state in the U.S., I’ve been asking my Mormon friends and family why they think Utah has a higher percentage of population reporting depression than any other state.

Usually, the initial response I get is one of surprise. Mormons I talk to are genuinely surprised that Utah, of all states, would have the highest percentage of adults reporting depression. After all, Mormons are repeatedly taught that “happiness is the object and design of our existence,” that “men are they might have joy,” that we are following the “great plan of happiness,” and that those who follow that plan enjoy a “blessed and happy state.”

Moreover, our friends and work colleagues occasionally comment that we Mormons seem to be a happy people. When I was a junior associate at a law firm, one day a senior partner unexpectedly said to me:

What is it about you Mormons that makes you so happy?

He then listed off the names of all the Mormons working at our firm and then observed:

All of you have this peaceful, contented way about you. Why is that?

I was totally caught off guard by the question. I tried to quickly think of an answer, and then rattled off something like this:

I think Mormons make a great effort to live according to their beliefs, and when we are living according to our beliefs, I think it gives us a peace of mind and contentment about our lives.

So over the past several weeks as I have pressed my Mormon friends and family for an explanation of Utah’s depression numbers, I’ve been surprised when almost all of them have said something like this:

Mormon culture is highly-demanding and emphasizes perfection, which leads to feelings of inadequacy and depression when Mormons inevitably fail to meet those high demands perfectly.

I’ve been surprised by this common response because, in a way, it is the same theory I offered to my work colleague to explain why Mormons are so happy, i.e., our strong commitment to righteous living.

But interestingly, when I ask Mormons whether they personally feel they have experienced Mormon-culture-induced depression, the answer is almost always “no.” It seems this concept of Mormon-culture-induced depression is something many Mormons believe in, but at the same time, they almost invariably believe it is something that is experienced by someone else. And that seems to be borne out by Utah’s depression numbers, because even in the “most-depressed” state of Utah, we’re talking about 10% of the population reporting depression, which means 90% of adults and adolescents in Utah are not depressed.

So what’s going on with those 1-in-10 Utahns who do report depression? Is Mormon culture what’s depressing them? Frankly, I have a hard time believing Mormon culture is behind Utah’s depression numbers, and here’s why:

• Problems that are expressed in terms of rankings can exaggerate the size of a problem because oftentimes the difference between best, average, and worst is small. For example, Hawaii (surprise, surprise!) has the lowest percentage of adults who report having a “major depressive episode,” which is 6.74%. The national average is 8.05%. In Utah, that percentage is 10.14% So when we talk about Utah’s “depression problem,” we’re talking about depression numbers that are about two percentage points above the national average.
• When we compare Utah to the other “most-depressed” states like Kentucky, Ohio, Okahoma, Rhode Island, etc., that gap is much, much smaller. For example, in Rhode Island, 9.88% of adults report experiencing a major depressive episode. Again, in Utah that number is 10.14%. So there we’re talking about a difference of just .26% between a “Mormon state” like Utah, and a non-Mormon state like Rhode Island.
• Mormonism’s potential responsibility for Utah’s depression numbers is further weakened by the fact that a very significant percentage of Utah Mormons are inactive, i.e., they are presumably not actively steeped in the supposedly depression-inducing Mormon culture.

So to summarize: to assess Mormonism’s potential responsibility for causing Utahns’ depression, it seems we would need to focus on the delta between the number of adults reporting depression in Utah (10.14%), and the most depressed “non-Mormon” state, Rhode Island (9.88%). In other words, if 9.88% of Rhode Islanders report depression without a strong Mormon presence in that state, then it seems at least 9.88% of Utahns are depressed for exactly the same sorts of reasons as Rhode Islanders. That leaves us with a delta of .26% of Utahns who might be depressed because of Mormonism.

I am also intrigued by arguments that Mormonism is depressing Utahns because, even assuming that Mormons experience more depression than others, it seems there are at least two possible reasons why that would be. Either: (1) the Mormon “plan of happiness” is fundamentally flawed and actually causes depression; or (2) a very small percentage of Mormons misunderstand or don’t implement that “plan of happiness” correctly and drive themselves nuts with unnecessary perfectionism.

If Possibility #1 were true, we would expect a lot more than just 10% of Utahns to be depressed. And we would certainly expect Utah’s depression numbers to be much higher than a mere .26% above a non-Mormon state like Rhode Island. Put another way, if Mormon culture depresses Utahns, isn’t it remarkable that 90% of Utahns report not being depressed?

So for me, Possibility #2, that a very small percentage of Mormons don’t understand or implement the Mormon “plan of happiness” correctly and therefore drive themselves nuts with perfectionism, seems to be the more likely explanation of what effect, if any, Mormon culture has on Utah’s depression numbers. And it seems LDS Church leaders recognize this tendency of some Mormons to miss the mark and become perfectionists, because they specifically caution Mormons against developing the sort of perfectionist attitudes that could cause depression:

When comparing one’s personal performance with the supreme standard of the Lord’s expectation, the reality of imperfection can at times be depressing. My heart goes out to conscientious Saints who, because of their shortcomings, allow feelings of depression to rob them of happiness in life.

We all need to remember: men are that they might have joy—not guilt trips!

(Russell M. Nelson, “Perfection Pending,” Ensign, Nov 1995, 86.)

I seem to have heard this type of statement by General Authorities many times over the years. Which makes me wonder: if a Mormon (or ex-Mormon) blames “the Church” for his depression, might it be more accurate to say that he was depressed in spite of his Church leaders’ counsel (e.g., the Elder Nelson quote above), rather than because of it?

The article pointed to some flawed gems of conventional wisdom:

• Kids cement marital happiness.  Definitely not always true.  (see below)
• Empty nesters feel bereft and abandoned.  You wish!  Now that you’re gone, they can get down to doing all the stuff they’ve been putting off for 20 years:  travelling, reading, rock climbing, key parties, whatever.
• There was more quality family time back in the “good old days.”  Not at all.  Studies show that parents spend much more time with kids than they used to spend back when housework took over twice as long.  Even in homes where both parents work, kids often get more quality time with BOTH parents than those of previous generations.  Debunked!

So, how are these little rugrats destroying marriages, at least in today’s environment, and are Mormons more prone to these problems due to our focus on families?  According to the article:

1. Having kids when you either don’t want them or are ambivalent about them can be disastrous for a marriage.  Do people succumb to pressure to have kids when they don’t want them? 
2. Having kids to solidify a rocky marriage (seriously, do people still do this?) is likely to backfire (to which I say “duh!”).  Do people honestly think it will all work out if they just have kids?
3. Slipping into “traditional” roles as anything other than a matter of choice leads to resentment from both spouses and rocky marriages.  Do people get sucked into traditional roles against their choice?
4. Spending too much time helicoptering over your kids and not enough time together as a couple or in adults-only time weakens marriages.  Are we so focused on kids that we forget adult time?

It’s no secret the church advocates traditional roles, is pro-procreation (when will the earth be plenished already?), and encourages family time.  Do Mormon couples experience these 4 pitfalls more frequently as a result, about the same, or less than others?  Are these issues we should be concerned about?  Do you know people for whom these issues have cause major marital strife?  If there is pressure that causes people to act outside their best interests, from whence does that pressure come, and how should it be dealt with.  My view is there are 3 kinds of pressure:

• External.  This is pressure from society, church, or family (other than spouse) to do what they want you to do or think is best for you.  It is best taken with a grain of salt if it conflicts with either of the next two.
• Intra-Marriage.  This is pressure from your spouse to do what s/he desires OR possibly what s/he thinks is best for you.  This is why people need to go into a marriage with their eyes wide open and full disclosure on things like kids & careers.  But you have to do what you both can to accomodate and understand one another and arrive at a common place.
• Internal.  These are your feelings and desires and even your expectations of yourself and others.  It could be biological clock stuff, perfectionism, or your life’s goals and dreams.  You have to be true to yourself and to learn to love yourself and others, even when your desires may differ.  This is stuff you have to work through alone or in prayer as well as with your spouse, but ultimately, it’s up to you.

That’s my way of looking at things, anyway.  But yours may differ.  Discuss.

*If you’ve never heard of “Zero Population” before, that’s because the last time that term was used was before Donny Osmond had armpit hair.

Miller is a member of the church. He magnifies all of his callings, does all of the so-called “standard primary answers” (reads the scriptures, prays, attends his meetings, fasts, etc.,) He is seen around his ward as a beacon for what youth should be doing. Sure, he might have a few rough edges; no one’s perfect and certainly not Miller. But it might seem, to the unseeing eye, that Miller is generally on the “right track.”

Miller has a problem, though. He’s utterly miserable. Throughout all of his searching and reading and fasting and praying, he’s learned the scriptures up and down and can preach them to anyone, but they haven’t pierced — for whatever reason — to one person that also matters: himself. He is perpetually unhappy, but he endures to the end. He has faith that one day, even if it’s the day of a death that he has driven himself to, his desire to believe and his endurance will be well recognized. The emptiness and darkness in his life that he has manually filled at the pain of his being with righteousness and the tiny bit of faith he can muster…he hopes that that emptiness will be permanently filled.

The members of his ward who know his struggle, people like his Bishop and his Stake President, commend him for his tremendous struggle, but also commend him for his impressive resolve and obedience — which selflessly ignores all the cries within to give up to do what he can intellectually assent is correct. In truth, they are somewhat baffled that someone who has had such experiences can at the same time be so spiritually unfulfilled.

Del Kante is also a member of the church. Del Kante is a strong believer; his life has been touched through many spiritual experiences; he can say he knows the church is true, that Jesus is the Christ, that the Prophet speaks to God and that the revelations he receives are genuine. Unofficially, he is inspirational at preaching the gospel, because he can speak from the heart. Those who hear his words can feel some of the spirit too.

Del Kante has a problem, though.

While he does speak to others about the glories of God and the good that the church has done for him and shares the gospel with others, he does so in an unofficial capacity because he has severe worthiness issues that prevent him from meeting the standards for missionwork. Beyond severe sexual indiscretions, which are enough on their own, he is furthermore unrepentant. He’s enjoying his life way too much, Lord and all, to come to repentance. He has been disciplined several times and perhaps might come the big one.

Those in his ward who know his struggle, people like his Bishop and his Stake President, have called him to repent of his tremendous struggles, to commend him for his experiences of Christ and the Gospel but to call on him to act upon what should be a true conversion — to reconcile his spiritual experiences with actual changes in his lifestyle to magnify and uplift those spiritual experiences. In truth, they are someone baffled that someone who has had such experiences can at the same time not be humbled to repent.

OK, so here’s the fun part. I guess you don’t have to call it “judging” if you don’t want to think of it like that, but…

• What should Miller and Del Kante do? What might you suggest?
• How should each go about doing what need be done?
• Can you think of anyone like these individuals (obviously, these are caricatures, so de-exaggerate as necessary)?
• What do you find most tragic about Miller’s case and Del Kante’s case?

When I was a teenager I suffered from an almost crippling depression. It kept me from developing meaningful and balanced relationships with people (though I had many good friends) and it caused me to be very angry with God at times. There was a scripture that pierced me to the heart in the same way that Joseph Smith describes being pierced by James’ admonition to ask of God for wisdom, and it was Christ’s plea to His father, “My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” I remember walking in the cold through my neighborhood at night, looking up at the stars and saying quietly, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” to whomever would listen.

That scripture didn’t make sense to me. I felt that way sometimes. I felt that God had abandoned me, or forsaken me, and I didn’t know why. It bothered me, and so I periodically would ask people to explain to me the purpose of that scripture. Usually they’d rehash the same answer that everyone else did: “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so He had to feel loneliness.” This answer made me mad. It completely didn’t help me, and I felt that all these Mormons were just robots, programmed to say “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so He had to feel loneliness” when asked about that scripture. Now and then someone would reference Skousen’s work on the Atonement and this gave me a different perspective on the matter, but didn’t satisfy me. The question was never really answered to my satisfaction and it was very frustrating. And so years passed without me ever knowing what I had to gain from Christ’s plea.

Last year, I raised my hand in Institute after we studied Christ’s last moments on the cross, and I asked my Institute teacher what the meaning of that scripture was. This is an Institute teacher that I loved and respected greatly (and still love and respect), and his answer was, in effect, “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so he had to feel loneliness.” In frustration, I sank in my chair, silent. After class I talked to my teacher and told him that I’ve been vexed by that scripture for a long time, and perhaps it’s something I’m just going to have to ask God when I meet him. The issue was closed for a time and I stopped thinking about it.

Months passed, and I have slowly learned how to live without depression crippling me. I feel less angry and I find meaning in more of my life. These lessons were not learned easily. It took hard work, tears, and little packages from God throughout the years of my life.

Two weeks ago I attended a fireside in Louisville, Kentucky, featuring Elder Richard G. Scott. My mind raced the whole time. At the beginning of the fireside, I met with my sister who delivered to me a small, black box with a diamond ring that came from my grandfather. He knew I’m not a rich man, and I was planning on asking a beautiful young lady to marry me soon. I sat in a chair on the stand (I was in the choir) with this diamond ring in my pocket, wondering if this was the right decision for me. Skeptically I looked at the back of Elder Scott’s head.

I knew Elder Scott is an apostle, and I respected that, but I came to the meeting with a sour attitude.  I was certain that there was nothing he could say that I hadn’t heard before. I needed real answers. I didn’t want any of the watered-down, useless stuff I hear so often in church, stuff like, “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so he had to feel loneliness.” I’ve been so frustrated with answers like that and didn’t expect to hear anything more useful. I knew that if I wanted real answers it was up to me.

Elder Scott spent the first 30 minutes of his presentation trying to get his laptop projector to work. I mused on the idea that everything he was trying to do with his Photoshop program and expensive projector, he could have done with a chalkboard, and a chalkboard is much cheaper and the learning curve is quite a bit more manageable than a laptop as well, and why are we always inventing things that are suppose to improve our life but end up being complicated and difficult versions of what we already have that break and go obsolete faster?  I sank deeper in my chair. Elder Scott then said a few things about revelation and opened the floor to questions.

Again my cynicism was reinforced.  When you allow the regular folk to ask whatever questions they want, what you’re going to get is a lot of lousy questions that waste everybody’s time.  I sat through a few of those and fiddled with my thumbs a bit.

It was then that Elder Scott taught me something that left an incredible impression on me, and probably will till the day I die, because he answered the question that had troubled me for ten years.  Someone asked him, “What can you teach us about the Atonement?”  I sighed quietly to myself.

Elder Scott began to speak on Christ’s Atonement, and then completely out of the blue, he referenced Christ’s last few sentences on the cross.  He told us that Christ said, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” because God had withdrawn from him, and God had withdrawn from him as an expression of trust.

Suddenly it all made sense. My teenage depression made sense. My hurt, my pain, my trials all made sense. Christ taught that He did nothing of Himself, but only did as He was commanded of God. It was like a father, holding the handlebars of his child’s bike, teaching him how to ride. Without getting into the particulars of how closely God managed Christ’s works throughout His life, I saw this father pushing his child on a bike, and at the last moment letting go, trusting that the child would continue pedaling.  God didn’t just let go, he stepped away from the bike. God was showing us that He trusts Jesus, and if God trusts Jesus, then we can, too.

This was the answer that I’ve always been looking for, and it’s led me to consider much of what has been said in the Bloggernacle and by those who feel disillusioned by the Church.  I’ve felt disillusioned by the Church now and then.  I’ve felt forgotten by God and I’ve felt insignificant.  I felt that I didn’t have a place, or that I’m too “different.”  Sometimes God lets go of the handlebars, but I kept pedaling, and so that’s my advice to those who feel the same way.  Keep pedaling.  It means He trusts you.  So many feel God letting go and simply stop pedaling and fall over.  I’ve thought about the words of my Uncle John as he pondered the people he has seen struggle with the Church: so many who “trade down” once they leave, never finding the same happiness again. I can’t speak for everyone but in my life there was value in just pedaling when God lets go.

When Elder Scott finished and bore his testimony of Christ I knew what I needed to do. Last Wednesday I asked a beautiful, wonderful, and nurturing young woman to marry me. But I also saw Christ. Not in a literal sense, but in that chapel, in my mind’s eye, Christ became a real figure to me. A real being that could have been standing at the pulpit in Elder Scott’s place. I saw Him walking with His apostles, and I saw Him teaching them. And here was an apostle in every sense of the word standing before me, doing what apostles are called to do: tell us that Christ is real. He lives. He wants us to be happy. He died for us.

Being an apostle meant so much to me that day, and more to me now. Thank God for apostles and their service to us.

I was given a tool (the church) and I used it for all kinds of things – it was a hammer, a door prop, a food masher, whatever. I loved my tool.

Suddenly, life started to demand new things from me and the tool wasn’t cutting it. I felt betrayed. This tool was supposed to last.

Then, I start looking at the tool (I don’t throw it away rashly), and I see a button. I press the button and realize that this tool is actually a flashlight. It’s been a flashlight the WHOLE time. I’d been using it inappropriately from the start .

Sure, it worked for all kinds of things, and I suppose it still could, but for the first time, I can start using it for what it really is. Can’t really blame the salesman, he probably didn’t know what it was either. And I’m glad I didn’t throw it away. Now, that is one cheese-ball analogy, I know. But it’s how I feel.

After a life change or a crisis of faith, some people would like their “old testimony” back. I remember times when I wanted that old testimony back so badly.  It’s like I wanted that world back where my tool worked for everything.  But we can’t.  As human beings we grow.  We can never have THAT testimony ever again.  Not anymore.  And as long as we’re scrambling for it, we’re not moving. The sacrament of doubt is ruthless but it’s so worth it. The scales fall from our eyes, and we can finally see the world for what it really is.

And again, I have no solutions other than time, books, people, time, patience, time, more books, a vacation, time and patience. Maybe a massage, too.  I do know, though, that it’s hard to move on until we find new purpose.

I see the church as tool, like a flashlight, that gives me more God. Its truthfulness and exclusivity are nice (like, sure, I could use my flashlight as a door prop), but it shines light on life, and that’s why I keep it.

So, what is the church to you?  Does this analogy speak to you?  Discuss.

For starters, how do you know if you are 99 or a 1?

The Ninety-Nine

In most organized religions, the larger group will be the most faithful, loyal, and active-in-practice. These are the people who lead a productive and often religious life, although not necessarily a personalized spiritual life. The majority of faithful LDS (and of all organized religions) may live their whole lives without really straying too far from the 99 and find great value and happiness. Most people within the 99, whether they have ever strayed or not, view the journey of the one as being dangerous and best to be avoided as a rule.

The One

To be a 1 is most simply to become separated (physically, emotionally, OR spiritually) from the flock enough for a reunion to be a non-trivial effort. Sometimes weakness, immaturity, or rebellion might actually be a reason for straying, but it’s certainly not always the case. Even the word straying is slightly misleading, as sometimes the separation from the flock is not so clearly a choice. Often while the 1 is astray, they feel like the 99 are, well.. sheep. The 99 might be willing to accept that comparison given certain biblical parables, but another aspect of the perspective of the 1 is that the shepherd is not Jesus, as we often think, but only church leaders.

Of course, that is actually true for most Christian churches. It is a common belief that Jesus has entrusted (or called) a number of human beings with the responsibility to “feed His sheep”. When it comes to LDS, although we do have a lay ministry, which means that technically I could be called to be the bishop of my ward (or shepherd of my flock) next week… we are still more like a mega-flock which is made of smaller flocks. The mega-flock is shepherded by General Authorities, and the local shepherds are mostly just extensions of the shepherding philosophies of those above them.

For a shepherd, a successful rescue of the 1 is mostly limited to a complete return to the flock. Reconciliation to the ideas they struggled with is directly connoted with repentance, which also assumes that the separation from the flock is always either a result of poor judgment or else a lack of proper commitment (i.e. the truth has always been there and no one has to be surprised.) Some shepherds prefer to perpetuate that idea, as it helps to dissuade the 99 from wandering too far and hopefully avoiding the thorny paths. Warnings about wandering are constantly given.

“First, in the Church, we don’t criticize; we don’t discipline members for what they think. But if they teach things that are going to lead people astray and to unhappiness, then we sound the alert. We don’t discipline them for their attitudes or their tendencies. We warn people if they go on that path: there are snares there, so stay away from them. It’s just that simple.” – Boyd K. Packer, from his PBS Helen Whitney interview

The Journey Can Be a Part of Growth

Yet, some 1′s find that the journey astray becomes an integral part of their spiritual lives. This idea can sometimes be unfathomable to some of the 99. After all, wickedness never was happiness, and the condition of separation from the flock in and of itself is often directly associated with some degree of wickedness. Of course, separation is usually not happiness, but its not always related to wickedness. There are pitfalls, yes, but a major reason for the severity of those pitfalls is that there is very little support for the 1, unless/until they return to the 99. LDS leaders receive thousands of letters from 1′s and their families which illustrate vividly the pain that is out there, and perhaps that is why there seems to be little acknowledgment of any positive value in the journey itself.

“We encourage people to get all the education they can. We’re not afraid of it. [...] But if you get hung up and involved and intellectually lose your way — and some do leave — they’re questioning everything. But their questions don’t have a productive insight. The mind is the source of inspiration, but if you get wandering too far the inspiration will stop. And that’s a bad place to be in life — to be without guidance and help, to be without a conscience, in other words.” – Boyd K. Packer, from his PBS Helen Whitney interview

To be “without a conscience” is not a fair characterization, though. There are many 1′s who experience this separation as a result of following their conscience. However, to be “without guidance and help” is all too often the case, but… are the shepherds without any responsibility?

Should the Shepherd Stay or Should He Go?

It is never simple, though. If the shepherd leaves the 99, what happens to them? I think the focus on the 99 leads many 1′s to feel abandoned or rejected, and sometimes even to judge the shepherds as being too corporate in their treatment of the flock. I think this statement from Elder Packer in a 1993 talk to the correlation committee demonstrates the reasoning.

“Those who are hurting think they are not understood. They are looking for a champion, an advocate, someone with office and influence from whom they can receive comfort. They ask us to speak about their troubles in general conference, to put something in the curriculum, or to provide a special program to support them in their problems or with their activism.

When members are hurting, it is so easy to convince ourselves that we are justified, even duty bound, to use the influence of our appointment or our calling to somehow represent them. We then become their advocates — sympathize with their complaints against the Church, and perhaps even soften the commandments to comfort them. Unwittingly we may turn about and face the wrong way.
[...]
If we are not very careful, we will think we are giving comfort to those few who are justified and actually we will be giving license to the many who are not.“

The gist of that statement is that the church is essentially made for the 99. In ironic consolation, it does at least acknowledge that the 1 is sometimes justified, but what will the shepherd do for them? The oft-overlooked intention comes later in that talk:

“The comfort they need is better, for the most part, administered individually.”

Here he places the task of going after the 1 at the feet of local shepherds. It makes sense that they know their flock more intimately, and would be better qualified to help. Why then are there so many 1′s who still feel like there is no shepherd looking for them? The shepherds call out for them to come home, but not many go out to meet them where they are. What if the declaration that those who stray are without guidance and help has become self-fulfilling prophecy?

I find myself more interested in matters of emotion, art, and music, then, and one point in particular has caught my attention at various times in my life.  That is, the relationship of the Church to sadness.  I had a crash course once I hit my teenage years (as many of those inclined towards the artistic things of life are) in sadness, and honestly, the Church didn’t seem to help.  I saw a huge grey swath between the concepts of The Spirit, depression, joy, sin, and righteousness.  Depression recently has found some attention in Church publications, but I found that there are still, just as there were when I was young, remnants of the idea out there that somehow depression is always caused by sin and righteous living always leads to joy, or the idea that if you are happy, this must come from the Spirit.  It seemed that, in the LDS world, we can tend to have quite a “perfection” complex, and sadness is seen as imperfection.  We can’t let anyone see our imperfections!  Why can’t we just be perfect like the Stake President’s family?  Yet any psychologist will tell you that repression of sadness (and none of us are immune to this at some point in our lives) leads to strange manifestations in other places in one’s life.  It was difficult for my young teenage mind to really center on one concept or the other (emotion vs. the Spirit), and it was especially troubling when I actually found catharsis in sad songs.

Luckily I’ve found in recent times that there are LDS artists who are focusing on, not praise music, or what you’d typically find on EFY CDs, but worldly forms of music:  rap, punk, heavy metal, folk, the list goes on.  It is LDS music that I’m interested in, but not necessarily “LDS Music.”  I’m more interested in musicians who happen to be LDS, whose faith seeps out from the seams of their work, rather than those who place the faith before the art.  In defense of sad songs, I’ve found that, rather than suppress our sadness, we learn about it, admit it to ourselves, and only then can we “fix” it.  This is what the artist does:  she holds a mirror to herself, paints a self-portrait, warts and all, and then shows the result to the listener, who finds relief in the discovery that they are not alone.  Thus Christlike bonds are formed between human beings.  No pretending to be perfect here.