I am a Mormon. Mormonism is my spiritual home, and I don’t see that changing. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t times when the mainstream culture of Mormonism (especially as lived in Utah) drives me nuts. I’m often troubled by a self-righteousness I see too often in Mormon culture. Lessons attacking the ‘world’ or ‘worldly values’ tend to make me crazy, for example. They tend to suggest ‘we’re right, they’re wrong,’ on issues that are by no means black and white. Often such comments strike me as politically tinged–difficult, for a life-long liberal. And they tend to attack works of art of genuine distinction and merit. I have a testimony; I also have doubts. I do my best to live according to my best sense of what’s right; I certainly don’t always succeed.
I taught at BYU for twenty years, and loved the kids I worked with. But when I re-connect with many of those former students, I’m starting to realize something important. A great many of them have left the Church, and many others are thinking about it. There is a crisis of faith among young Mormons. I talk to them and one subject keeps coming up, over and over. Doubt.
We’re losing a lot of kids. People I love, people I care about deeply, are separating themselves from the Church, and for reasons that don’t strike me as wholly unreasonable. I wonder sometimes if the culture of Mormonism is well-suited to people of a certain personality type, and ill-suited to other sorts of people. Some people want to know that there are black and white answers to moral questions. They want to believe that people in authority have the answers, that all they have to do is listen and obey. And others–and I count myself as one–see the world in shades of gray. Some of us feel safer when we have space to question and to doubt. Maybe it’s because I taught in the theatre department, and theatre kids don’t feel particularly comfortable in black and white environments. We question, we wonder, we doubt. And we’re bothered when we see our good brothers and sisters who seem perfectly content, who don’t seem to doubt at all. Are they faking it? Are they completely sincere? If so, what’s wrong with me?
Asking ourselves these sorts of questions is, of course, a normal thing, and a good thing, and perhaps some of you who read this blog who are not LDS are wondering what the big deal is. But Mormon culture is not very welcoming to doubt. There’s tremendous social pressure on all of us to never express doubt, to never reveal it, even perhaps to not feel doubt at all. And yet, doubt also seems to be increasing.
Right now in Sunday school, we’re embarked on a year’s study of ‘Church history.’ But the history we study in Sunday school is sanitized, faith promoting, edifying, testimony-building. I can see the reasons for that. But we’re living today in a world where young people are adept at finding absolutely incredible amounts of information and knowledge. It’s really extraordinary, what the internet has done. I love it, I love the era in which we live. I love navigating Wikipedia, just bouncing from strange subject to strange subject. Learning, growing.
But on the internet, it’s very easy to access all sorts of factually accurate information about LDS history that calls into question the mainstream narrative we learn in Sunday School, perhaps because they don’t include context. And when that happens, it can be destructive of innocence, destructive of testimony, and destructive of faith. And bright, wonderful, LDS young people are leaving the Church because of it. Or perhaps not leaving the Church, but questioning, doubting. Not wondering ‘should I stay a Mormon?’ but ‘what kind of Mormon am I becoming?’ And always, this: ‘where do I fit in?’
In a recent General Conference, I remember hearing this: “There is no place in the gospel for doubt.” I’m not quoting that exactly, nor am I citing who said it; I don’t want this to turn into some personal disagreement. But, here’s how I see it. Doubt seems to me much like pain; something unpleasant, but deeply necessary. Three years ago, I got very sick, and nearly died, and I am in considerable, constant pain ever since. I don’t like being sick. I think getting sick really sucks. But I also recognize that getting sick was in many ways a great personal blessing to me. I’ve learned a lot from it, and grown closer to my family, and I’m grateful for it. I would say that pain is certainly part of the gospel. And by the same token, and in the same sense, doubt can be an essential part of mature Christian reflection. Not for everyone, maybe, but for some people, for those who need it.
For example, how can I reconcile the idea that Joseph Smith or Brigham Young were prophets of God with their practice of something that seems to me as repugnant, with the practice of polygamy? Why did it take so long for the Church to overcome its legacy of racism? How can we reconcile varying versions of the First Vision narrative? Good books have been published putting these issues into context, but questions linger in my mind. And I benefit from working through them.
I doubt. Doubting has enhanced my faith. The experience, for me, of church attendance, of scripture reading and prayer, of trying to find an inner place of faith, is one often leavened by cognitive dissonance. And that, in turn, leads me to think and query and generally, to grow. And growth takes place without necessarily resolving difficult questions, or reaching answers, but just by struggling with issues. Sometimes the struggle itself leads to some kind of resolution.
And this crisis of faith in the Church I describe is a real thing, and something which the Church does seem to be addressing, but with babysteps, incrementally. One issue, for example, is the role of women in the Church, the degree to which women feel marginalized. Such websites as Feminist Mormon Housewives and Segullah provide a forum for women to commune together, support each other. Sunstone is, as always, a rock and anchor for liberal Mormons. So is John Dehlin’s Mormon Matters blog and podcast. All these developments are altogether good, but the Church has also responded, most recently by assigning women to give prayers at General Conference for the first time. Another issue for young people today is the Church’s position on homosexuality. Again, the Church has modified its position, especially on the official Church website, but only in small ways.
The biggest issue of them all, in my opinion, is the need for greater transparency when it comes to Church history. Elder Marlin Jenson has spoken up in recent years on the need for transparency, and the publication, by the Church history department, of a new history of the Mountain Meadows Massacre is a welcome development, as well as a deeply sobering read. But there’s much more that needs to be done.
Meanwhile, I intend to continue to do my poor best as well. Let’s talk together, commune together about why we doubt. Let’s not leave the kids who doubt with no place to go for answers. Doubt together, and use the power of cognitive dissonance to work through issues of faith. I am like the grieving father in Mark 9. I believe. Help, thou, mine unbelief.
I so agree with you. It’s tragic, the damage we do by attaching shame to doubt. When we can create an atmosphere where faith means “what you do in the face of not knowing” instead of “what you refuse to confront,” we will have a happier, more powerful people. So many people forget that “God will yet reveal many great and important things” means “just like everything else in God’s creation, even the Church never arrives but continues to grow in understanding” (read: “we may still be getting some things wrong, and may continue to do so forever”). It comforts me to know that the church isn’t an eternal organization.
I agree wholeheartedly with you. No where does it say that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints will be the end all be all of churches everywhere in the Millenium. All we truly know is that Christ will be King. Your sentiment that the church itself isn’t an eternal organization is something my husband once brought up to me when I was having my doubts and just like this blog post, it ended up strengthening my faith.
Thanks for both your comments! I like that thought, the Church not being an eternal organization.
I have pondered some of these same thoughts recently. It is not so much the doubt, rather the evolution from black and white to gray view of the world. In many ways, I think there is a human change that can occur in an individual, in which, the world, sin and even righteousness become far less defined. I have found this to be true in my life. When this occurred for me, it freed me up to look at events and issues with a much broader view…. frankly it has made it easier for me to be Christ-like in my views and actions. It has allowed me to look at the individual before a behavior or struggle. Believe it or not, it has allowed me to remove some of the religious stressors that have affected me in my life. Are the behaviors that fall outside the guidelines of the gospel still an offense to God, yes. The degree to which they are, between God and that individual, can vary greatly in ways I cannot even comprehend. I can accept that. I think I will chalk it up to a maturity in me. I can see the words of prophets differently now. They are not different than I have heard in the past but I can put them into my new way of thinking and they totally fit in. After having this epiphany, I started watching the words of the leaders of the church carefully and realized that we (LDS Church culture) may be going through a maturity process that will allow for a more Christ-like view. I don’t think this means that they are compromising their values but I think some of the shortfalls of the culture are being replaced with a view that is more mature, inclusive and less prone to black and white labeling of individuals. I cant help but feel that the black and white views that the culture (not necessarily the gospel) has is creating the room for doubt and confusion to exist. It took a long time to get here…I can’t help but feel that this change may take years but I am very interested to see where it goes because it is so much a part of me.
Your response is good. But way too long. Short and to the point would be better.
I think he said it perfectly. The leaders of this church will always be human. But the gospel will always be based on Christ. Man is fallible, Christ is perfect. There are no “shades of gray” when it comes to Christ and His teachings. It says in the scriptures, time and again, He cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance. As the world continues to become more and more wicked, choices will have to be made. President Monson has said that we may have to stand alone in our beliefs. As we make our choices, yes we will have to think things through carefully. Satan has made our choices very difficult to see. But when we make a right choice. doubt will never feel bad. And we will never stand alone.
I enjoyed this post. When my husband spoke to our bishop and stake president about his doubts the bishop handled it with a good amount of grace, but our poor stake president was just flummoxed. There didn’t seem to be one thing in his years and years of leadership that equipped him to say anything other than an encouragement to keep praying and reading his scriptures, which were two things that were really, really not helping at that point. I was sad for my husband that he didn’t find more compassion for his doubt, but also sad for that poor stake president who was so uncomfortable and lost when faced with such a common experience.
Excellent points Eric. Doubt, is not necessarily a stand-alone action or behavior. It can be the impetus for additional thought, study, and searching. It could be characterized as uncertainty, thought-in-progress, potentially transient. I agree that it is part of the growth process, and a necessary component of intellectual and spiritual growth.
In some ways, (and this is not a completed thought) it seems as if doubt is like an idling engine. It may be spinning, but not getting you anywhere unless you engage the energy. The individual has to decide where to go.
what you said about the idling engine really resonates with me… when I engage my energy in something positive ( focusing on the faith I do have, loving others, etc) I am so much happier than when I obsess over my doubts.
In my early 20s, I had a dream of my paternal grandfather. He died before I was born, but of course, I always wondered about him and so, I guess, I dreamed of him too. In one dream in particular I asked him, basically, “How can I live a better life?” He told me, “Don’t worry about religion.”
I won’t claim that my deceased grandfather, whom I never met, really visited me in a dream—although I’m open to the idea, or else I probably wouldn’t be telling you this—but his advice was extremely comforting to me. He said, “Don’t worry about religion. It doesn’t matter.” The sense of the statement, in the circumstances of the dream, was that religion matters a lot less in the afterlife than humans think.
It’s difficult to say when I left Mormonism. I began ditching at age 12 and chose to be grounded rather than to go by age 13 and 14. At age 15, then living with my father, I wasn’t pressured anymore. At 16 my bishop and friends tried to talk me into coming again, and I even agreed to give a talk at a youth night. I prepared a talk on service. Everyone felt I did well. The bishop complimented me on my eloquence. And, for some reason, this convinced me never to go again. Why? Well, I’d deliberately avoided scripture quotes in my talk. I purposely sought out secular perspectives, as a challenge—and to see if anyone would notice. The whole experience proved to me that it’s completely possible to think through what it means to be a good person without religious authority. What’s more good than service?
But why did I ditch in the first place? The answer is undramatic and unimpressive. I didn’t have an intellectual reason. I think that I was just a contrarian little boy. The closest I got to an intellectual reason was an argument with a Sunday school teacher about whether I’d have to live in any of three afterlife kin