RABBIT HOLE

The other day I went down a bit of a rabbit hole, at the bottom of which I learned some things about my family which I had not known. And, frankly, I'm not sure how I should feel about it.

It started with me recalling a YouTube video I came across four or five years ago, in which a journalist for the Times, William Lobdell, called my uncle, Clifton Jolley, "a real asshole." Mr. Lobdell had been an investigative reporter on some of the sexual abuse scandals within the Catholic church and had earned a reputation for being hard on religions. After writing a piece in which he mentions how his traditional Christian beliefs were no more ridiculous than the truth claims of Mormonism, and how this had led to his own faith crisis, a Mormon apologetic group called FAIR Mormon (how's that for hyperbole?) invited Mr. Lobdell to an open forum and debate. During this event, my uncle apparently shouted at Mr. Lobdell and told him he had no right as an outsider to tell believing Mormons their beliefs are not true. The thing which stood out the most to me about this encounter is that my uncle, to the best of my memory, had converted to Judaism several years ago.

Obviously, I had my story wrong. There is no way that my uncle would leave Mormonism for Judaism and then taunt a journalist for decrying Mormon beliefs. That would simply be too absurd.

In order to correct my misconceptions about my uncle, I decided to go against the wishes of my mother, who had always warned caution with regards to certain members of her family as they did not believe the same things we did, and I googled his name.

The person I found was a complicated, well-read, quirky man who had been writing articles for the Salt Lake Tribune--something of a liberal cesspool by Mormon standards--literally for decades. He is a poet, a teacher, and considers himself both a non-practicing "Jack" Mormon and Jew-ish.

I was correct that he had converted to Judaism several years ago. But he also kept the label "Mormon," because, as he puts it, the Mormon church has no right to tell someone if they are or are not Mormon. Apparently, this was an idea within Judaism which really resonated with him. Being a Mormon or a Jew is just as much about one's heritage and culture as it is about their worldview. I wonder if he would apply the same logic to someone raised in the Heaven's Gate or Moonie cults, or, for that matter, under communism.

While I found this new information intriguing, what really blew me away was that my uncle--the guy who publicly shouted at a reported for being critical of Mormon beliefs--had presented at the Sunstone Symposium multiple times. For those unfamiliar with Sunstone, it is an organization which discusses difficult and controversial (I would say "damning") topics within Mormonism. They invite critics of the Church to give presentations constantly.

It seems that my uncle has no problem with criticism of the church generally, as long as it comes from within. So, I guess by his standards I am okay to continue dismantling the tenets of Mormonism since I am staying in my lane, as it were.

The thing that really gets me about all of this is that I'm in my mid-thirties and there are several people to whom I am related that I know virtually nothing about. Honestly, I feel a little gypped. My mother's fear that my uncle and his family might be a bad influence on her children and show them a way out of the church prevented me from getting to know a really interesting member of my extended family. Someone in whom I could have confided a decade ago when my faith crisis kicked into full gear. I realize that he and I probably would not have seen eye to eye on everything, but that's okay. Just knowing someone who had made a similar journey out of the church and came out the other side decent person would have been huge for me. And I suspect this is exactly what my mother feared.

As tempting as it is for me to put all the blame on my mother, I have to take a step back and realize that she is a victim too. Her parents raised her in the church. It isn't her fault she took it seriously. There is a reason most people stick with the religion of their upbringing. They are familiar--and are, therefore, comfortable--with the organization and support system. Facing one's doubts about their entire worldview is inherently emotionally challenging and intellectually painful. Add to this the fact many people are taught that doubts are of the devil and you have a recipe which makes it a wonder that anyone finds their way out of religion alive.

So, no, I don't blame my mother for being overprotective and shielding me from what she thought were genuine threats to my eternal salvation. I simply regret that she felt it was necessary to do so.




BONUS MATERIAL:




My uncle explaining his complicated relationship with the church just a couple years before the shit hit my fan:

Part 1.

Part 2.

The beginning of William Lobdell's presentation:

MODERATE INTELLIGENCE

I recently had the unexpected pleasure of discussing Sam Harris (author of The End of Faith) with a Mormon. By "unexpected pleasure" I mean that although this individual disagrees with Sam Harris on several points, he was still open to the conversation and willing to consider other points of view. Two points of contention this person has with Sam Harris are his anti-theistic views of religion generally (which I totally understand from a believing Mormon's perspective) and Sam's seemingly disparaging views of Islam specifically.

On the first point, I recommended this person look up Christopher Hitchens and reconsider whether Sam Harris really is that hostile towards religion in comparison.

On the second point, well, it gets more complicated. On the one hand, I think that Sam Harris has some valid and pointed criticisms of Islam and has made a career speaking publicly about the potential, and in some cases demonstrable, harm which the religion's scriptures and preachments can produce.

For instance, the infamous 9/11 hijacking was committed by the truest of believers, as was the murder of Danish cartoonists and filmmakers, the fatwa on the head of Salman Rushdie for the crime of writing a fictional book, the fatwa on Ayaan Hirsi Ali for leaving the religion and speaking out against chopping off the clitoris of baby girls, the countless and ongoing atrocities committed by ISIS against homosexuals and infidels, the murderous riots which stemmed from an inflammatory video daring to depict the Prophet Muhammad (one of which resulted in the Benghazi kerfuffle), and many other instances of faithful Muslims who take their religion and its texts literally.

The trouble with Sam's view, or rather the perception of Sam's view which I would argue he hasn't done enough to correct, is that these many examples of extremism are not representative of the religion as a whole, in much the same way that not all Christians are responsible for the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, the Ku Klux Klan, the Holocaust, bombings of abortion clinics or the murder of abortion doctors. To confound the matter, many misunderstand Sam Harris' criticisms of the beliefs and tenets of Islam as bigotry against Muslim people (see video below).

In a way, and I am hardly the first to make this point, the Muslim world is currently undergoing a series of growing pains similar to Christianity during the Dark Ages. Hopefully more moderate Muslims will win out, as with Christians, but only time will tell. And I think this is Sam's overall point in criticizing Islam. It's not that Islam necessarily results in terrorism. But rather that it's teachings can be interpreted in such a way that terrorism is a result. A Christian example would be how Hitler exploited traditional Christian beliefs and prejudices about the Jews being responsible for the death of Jesus to build his Nazi army.

Likewise, the Bible supports some terrible things as well, such as the subjugation of women, the genocide of various middle eastern tribes, the stoning of homosexuals, apostates, disobedient children, those who work on the Sabbath, those who eat shellfish and those who wear mixed fabrics. If any Christian or Jewish sect followed the Bible literally and enforced these rules--which believers often defend as morally necessary for the time and people of the Bible--we in civilized society would have a moral obligation to stamp it out. Fortunately, however, most Christians and Jews don't take their holy books that seriously.

So when Sam Harris calls Islam "the mother load of bad ideas" understand that he means this in a context in which Muslims take their religion seriously and literally, and that the only real criticism a moderate believer can level against a scriptural literalist is a lack of nuance which all too often is based on an irreconcilable cognitive dissonance in the mind of the moderate. In other words, the reason a moderate is not a literalist is often because taking scripture literally--like when the Bible tells you what is an acceptable consequence for a disobedient slave--conflicts with a person's inner morality. Both are arguing from a position of faith and a presumption of scriptural authority, rather than reason and evidence. Therefore, how can one side claim the other is wrong in any absolute sense?

It seems to me that the best way for Muslims and Christians and Jews to assimilate into a cooperative multicultural society may well be for the growing moderates to cherry pick their respective religious texts and disregard the unpleasant bits. We may in fact depend on this apparent hypocrisy. The trouble seems to come from believing in the inerrancy of scripture. As much as I would like to see religion become a thing of the past, I must admit that a world of self-serving cherry-picking moderates is preferable to a world of valiant idealistic literalists.

And in an effort for transparency, I have been guilty of making sweeping generalizations about Muslims in the past of the sort Sam Harris is often accused, and have even written posts on this blog which today make me cringe. I have considered taking the posts down, but I feel they are an important part of my journey away from religion, as painful as they may be to me now.



BONUS MATERIAL:



Sam Harris calling Islam "the mother load of bad ideas" and Ben Affleck losing his mind:

MULTI-LEVEL MORMONING

Outside of every Mormon church building is a sign which states "Visitors Welcome." Only a couple of times in my years as a Mormon have I ever seen anyone take up this offer. Each time the visitors were swarmed by smiling faces eager to set up a meeting with the local missionaries so that the visitors could promptly be baptized (why else would god "inspire" them to walk through the door?). Never have I seen this tactic of flurried interest result in a new Mormon.

Most Mormons seem to have no idea why anyone outside of the church would have no interest in their religion. Mormons believe they have found the one true church with exclusive rights to truth and lasting happiness in this life and the next. Think of it like a pyramid scheme or Multi-Level Marketing company, which happen to do quite well in Utah (after all, why would your bishop's wife lie?). A person who buys into the rhetoric and truly believes the claims that their product has legitimate value and can improve everyone's life will have a similarly difficult time understanding why some people, such as myself, don't care how essential oils helped cure you of your chronic halitosis.

The MLM concept that each employee is a "CEO" of their own business is not unlike the Mormon concept that "every member is a missionary." Furthermore, just as MLM's require their "CEO's" to buy large quantities of product, the Mormon church holds individual member's salvation and eternal families at ransom for 10% of gross (can you really put a price tag on eternal happiness?).

Some Mormons, however, are less credulous. Well, in certain regards, anyway. For instance, once while engaged in an argument on social media wherein I called out the blatant homophobic policies of the Mormon church (shortly after the church announced that homosexuals are apostates and that children of homosexuals in a loving consensual gay marriage could not join the church without reaching the age of eighteen and publicly denouncing the sinful lifestyle of their homosexual parents), a believing Mormon plainly stated that they could not understand why any homosexual would actually choose to be a member of the church. To which I responded: "The Mormon church has made it clear that it is not a welcome place for homosexuals, and it is up to members to decide whether or not that is a good thing." Not long after my comment, this person unfriended me.

In a less dramatic conversation, a family member told me they couldn't understand why someone who wasn't a member of the church would willingly live in Provo, Utah (where BYU is located). At the time I didn't respond, in part due to the fact that this person had no idea that their comment applied to myself. But I think it is quite telling that even believing Mormons recognize that their religion isn't very tolerant or welcoming of outsiders (I can only imagine what it must have been like in Missouri 150 years ago...), which makes their missionary efforts and welcome signs outside their assembly halls seem unnecessary and ironic.

What does it say about Mormonsim if the one place in the world where their church has true power and influence--Provo, Utah--makes non-Mormons feel oppressed or unwelcome? What does it say about a church which claims to be "family centric" if a large minority of the population (up to 10%) and their families are excluded from "the one true church" simply because of who they are? What does it say about the church's leadership when believing members of their church bring attention to the injustices and harm caused by the church's policies and the leaders respond by excommunicating the whistle blowers?

You can tell a lot about an ideology by the way they treat heretics and apostates.

LUKEWARM REASONING

One of the blackest marks on the Mormon church's sordid history has been its racist policies against people of color (see what I did there?). Until 1978 the church banned black men from holding the priesthood, which was tantamount to making them second-class members (not unlike women in the church today). This is fairly well known and is even referenced in the popular Broadway play "The Book of Mormon." But this was only one part of the policy.

A lesser known, but arguably much more impactful and sinister part of the policy, was that black men and women were not allowed entrance into Mormon temples. This meant that black people could not go through the endowment ceremony or get married in the temple, which Mormons believe are necessary rites to be allowed into the highest, most glorious parts of heaven. Effectively, black people could not go to the best version of the afterlife.

The argument which the church gave for this policy for well over a hundred years was that before the Earth was created, there was a war in heaven in which all people had to choose to support either Jesus or Satan. One third of these spirit children chose to support Satan and were cast out of heaven, and cursed to be demons on Earth to tempt humans into sinning. Eventually Satan and his minions will be cast to "Outer Darkness" which is basically annihilation. This will also be the fate of heretics and apostates who go through the temple ceremonies and then leave the church (there is some debate here among believers, so I may or may not qualify).

Another third of the spirit children chose to follow Jesus and made it to Earth in, let's say, preferential conditions. Specifically--and this is where the racism starts in Mormonism--these righteous and obedient spirits were granted white bodies and were thus allowed to go through the Mormon temples and earn their way to heaven.

The middle third of spirit children were somewhat on the fence about the whole thing. Eventually, they sided with Jesus, but were "lukewarm" in their resolve. As a result of their wishy washy passiveness in the pre-mortal life, they were "cursed" with the mark of Cain, which is a skin of blackness. This genetic line is said to have been preserved through the Great Flood through one of Noah's sons, Ham, who married a Canaanite woman.

Let me said it again, for over a hundred years Mormon church leaders taught that the reason black men couldn't hold the priesthood and black people couldn't go through the temple endowment and were therefore not allowed into heaven was because they were less valiant in the War in Heaven before they were born.

So, why bring this up? After all, it's been forty years since the church changed this policy and allowed black people full membership (well, for the men at least). What's the big deal?

Well, it turns out that the church is celebrating the 1978 policy change this month! They are actually drawing attention to it themselves. And as part of the celebration for not being racist anymore, the highest leaders in the church recently met with representatives from the NAACP. When this occurred last month, a prankster faked an apology from the church on a website meant to look like the official Mormon Newsroom website, and caused quite a stir. (The Infants on Thrones podcast did an extensive episode on the whole debacle which can be heard here.)

Part of the reason so many Mormons--especially those of color--are up in arms about this hoax is that it revealed their deep desire for an unqualified apology from the church. One such Mormon, Zandra Vranes, responded quite vehemently that the prankster was not a friend of black people, and they were like someone telling a rape victim that their rapist (i.e. the church) offered a heartfelt apology for the crime. The victim would feel vindicated and one step closer to healing, only to find out that the apology wasn't genuine. This would put the victim in an emotional roller coaster.

On the one hand, I feel sorry for Zandra. As she pointed out, the prankster probably didn't consider the negative effect his hoax would have on faithful black Mormons. On the other hand, I feel like her anger is misplaced. The emotional wound she is experiencing is a result of the century of racism in the church she defends. The man who faked the apology didn't hurt her. The church did. And she admits that she didn't realize how much she wanted or needed to hear an apology from the church until the fake one came out. This has apparently caused her to wrestle with the church's racism all over again in a very public way. So, say what you will about the callousness the prankster may have exhibited, but now people are talking about an issue which has hurt a lot of people and the church has tried to minimize. Hopefully some believers will be forced to confront their faith in a bold way and make it out of the church's clutches, possibly even Zandra. I would consider that a win.

In similar news, there is a new apologetic response to the Mormon church's racism. LDS Living published an article declaring that the church was racist for over a hundred years and its leaders defended that racism based on a simple misunderstanding of a word. You see, the word "black" has multiple meanings, one of which is "gloomy, dejected, or spiritual darkness, and has nothing to do with skin tone." The author offers a similar argument for the word "curse" to show that a "curse of blackness" (a common phrase in Mormon scripture) has nothing to do with skin color. By extension, when the Book of Mormon says that god "cursed" the wicked Lamanites with a "skin of blackness"' so they would not be "enticing" to the righteous Nephites, thus keeping the Nephite line "white and delightsome" (which was the common understanding of those scriptures for over a hundred years), it has nothing to do with the color of their skin! Isn't that swell? So, the church wasn't racist for over a century. The church's leaders were racist for over a century. See the difference? Never mind that god allegedly dictated the Book of Mormon to Joseph Smith word for word and could have easily just used a clearer word like "gloomy, dejected, or spiritual darkness" instead of "black," or that Mormon leaders have said from the beginning that god would not let the prophet lead the church astray even if it means taking him out. No! Forget all of that, and just take us at our word that god allowed countless black people to live without the blessings of the priesthood and the temple ordinances, and without the prospect of going to heaven because racist church leaders didn't realize that the word "black" has multiple meanings.

You know, there is another word in scripture which has a common second meaning: "risen." So the next time you read about Jesus' resurrection, and they say "He is risen" don't just assume the centuries old conventional understanding that Jesus literally came back to life after being crucified. No! That's just silly! Instead--like the article suggests--use the second meaning of the word and understand that Jesus' doughy, leavened body has expanded to twice its normal size and is now ready to be put into a preheated oven.

Your move, apologists.

UNDER THE RUG

In the ever-growing wake of religious scandals (abuse and rape of children, fraud, theft, dark political money) the Mormon church has always found a way to minimize its own questionable practices as they come to public light. For instance, when critics found millions of dollars of money coming from the church to influence the 2008 vote in California on Proposition 8 (which would change the California constitution to make gay marriage illegal), believers said the figure was grossly exaggerated, and that most of the funds came in the form of Mormon volunteers going door to door to rally supporters for "traditional marriage."

In November 2015 the church announced that homosexuals are considered apostates to the church and that children of homosexuals in a gay marriage could not join the church until they reached the age of eighteen (rather than eight) and only after they formally denounce the gay marriage of their parents. The church tried to soften the PR blow back by interviewing D. Todd Christofferson (a high ranking Mormon Apostle with a conveniently gay brother) by an active believing lackey fielding pre-approved softball questions emphasizing that the church super duper loves gay people and the purpose of this change is to not cause division among gay households, just like they do with polygamous households (never mind that gay marriage is legal and polygamy is not).

When the church received criticism about conducting "worthiness" interviews of adolescents as young as twelve years old, wherein the church leader would ask explicit detailed questions about the youth's sexuality and masturbation practices, the church reluctantly--and only recently--conceded that parents could be present during such interviews (apparently this isn't a new thing, and there is a protest march at Temple Square scheduled for this Friday. Fun.). It should be noted that even with this "change" church leaders will still ask pre-teen boys and girls whether or not they masturbate with the intent to help them repent of their transgression. 

When concerned Mormon parents encouraged a grassroots movement to record these sexually explicit interviews of minors to show the world how inappropriate such questions are for a grown man to be asking children, the Utah state legislature tried to pass a law which would make such recordings illegal (how's that for separation of church and state?).

When the church came under scrutiny for not encouraging church leaders to report child abuse to the police, the church's attourneys responded with the "Gold Standard" defense, claiming that if they reported abuse to the police, fewer people would feel comfortable confiding in the bishop. 

In 1978--well past the tail end of the civil rights movement--the Mormon church, which had always maintained that god will never grant priesthood authority to black men because of the curse of Cain and their lackluster performance during the pre-mortal war in heaven, backtracked on the issue and allowed black people full membership rights, including admission into their temples and allowing black men to hold priesthood office. Mormons still have a hard time understanding why black people aren't jumping at the chance to join the church nearly forty years after this announcement.

In 1890 the Mormon church announced that the eternal principal of plural marriage (i.e. polygamy) would no longer be practiced or endorsed by the church. In 1904 the Mormon church announced again that the eternal principal of plural marriage would no longer be practiced or endorsed by the church. Why the second announcement? Because many believing faithful Mormons didn't buy the ruse. They knew that the only reason the Mormon president made the announcement in the first place was because the US government was threatening to seize the church's assets, including their million dollar mini-mansions (i.e. temples). It was largely seen as a political move, and even the president of the church who made the announcement, Wilford Woodruff, married yet-another-wife afterwards. Those who did not see it as a political move denounced Woodruff as a false prophet. Now the church hems and haws and tries to downplay the importance that polygamy played in the church, but their scriptures and several decades of church leadership clearly and unequivocally state that polygamy is necessary to reach the highest degree of glory in heaven. To this day several Mormon sects and even individual Mormon leaders still practice polygamy (including current president of the church Russell Nelson!). 

Most recently a woman has accused Joseph Bishop (a high profile Mormon who has held very significant positions within the church, such as Mission President in Argentina, Mission President to the Missionary Training Center, and President of Weber State University) of sexual abuse and attempted rape while she was a missionary under him in the MTC (mid 1980s). I won't go into the details of the abuse here since others have done so quite thoroughly (Infants of Thrones, Mormon Stories). Instead I want to focus on the church's response to these allegations (their official statement). 

The long and short of it is that the church claims it went through proper legal channels and reported the abuse to police and did not have enough evidence on their own to issue any discipline to Bishop at the time (to put this into context, a couple years ago John Dehlin was excommunicated for using the Mormon Stories podcast to discuss problems with Mormon church history and abuses by the church against homosexuals, and Kate Kelly was excommunicated for creating the Ordain Women movement and suggesting that the church should allow women to hold the same leadership positions as men within the church). This is strange to me since we now know of a second woman who has made similar accusations against Bishop, and the first woman recorded a conversation between herself and Bishop wherein he admits he "confessed all his sins" to his ecclesiastical leader, including the abuse of both of these women. He also strongly implies that he abused other women for many years. 

Maybe he's lying. Maybe the recording was faked. Maybe it's all true, but the church didn't know the details or extent of the abuse. Maybe the church is lying. Who knows? But let's suppose that the church's version of the story is completely true. Does this make things better? Not in the view of a believing Mormon. 

You see, Mormons believe that their church leaders have what they call "the power of discernment." Basically this means that they have a direct line to god and if someone is lying during a worthiness interview (like when they ask a twelve year old girl if she masturbates) god will let the church leader know. Nothing gets past god. Except, apparently, Joseph Bishop. 

A couple years ago I posted something on my Facebook page about Utah having an unusually high suicide and homelessness rate for gay teens as a direct result of the November 2015 policy change discussed above. In response, a Mormon acquaintance sent me a blog article (unfortunately the link appears to be broken), which sought to make the case that Utah had the same rate of suicide for gay teens as any other state. If I had granted that this blogger's assessment was accurate, I would still be left asking why Utah wasn't better than all the other states. If the Mormon church is true, then surely they should be better suited to help those most in need of support. The claim that the predominately Mormon state of Utah is just as bad as anywhere else is a tacit admission that the church doesn't really make things better in important social matters. 

Furthermore, that fact that the church has such a long history of being several years behind every social movement of the past hundred years (with the exception of women having the right to vote, which Mormon apologists love to point out, but which can easily be explained as an opportunistic way for Mormons who still practiced polygamy to cast more votes per household. So there's that.) begs the question, in what sense is the Mormon church true? In what sense does the church make people behave better? In what sense does god lead the church and its leaders? 

Why would god not tell Joseph Bishop's priesthood leader that he's lying about his worthiness? Why would god allow Bishop to be promoted through the ranks of the church amid prolonged sexual abuse? For Mormons who want to fall back on the adage that god does not intervene due to agency, first of all, that is a terribly convenient excuse, don't you think? Second, that doesn't explain why god allowed Bishop to be promoted. In addition to leaders having the power of discernment, Mormons believe that if a leader becomes sinful or abuses their power, god will remove them from that position. Why didn't he do it to Bishop? 

What the hell, here's a scripture for reference: D&C 121:37 "That they may be conferred upon us, it is true; but when we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man."

It's almost as if god doesn't exist... 

BONUS MATERIAL:

Tracie Harris on god allowing children to be raped.

UNFRIENDLY FIRE

When my devout Mormon mother finally confronted me on my disbelief it led to a 3 hour conversation, through most of which she was inconsolable. At the end of the conversation she invited me to attend church with her the next morning. I politely declined.

In a second 3 hour conversation, my mother told me that because I had left the church, she had failed me as a mother.

Some time later, my eight year old niece was to be baptized into the Mormon church. My older sister invited me to the baptism, which I attended. During part of the ceremony, a group of close family and friends gathered around my niece to lay their hands on her head and give her a blessing. Although I was not invited to participate in this blessing for understandable reasons, my mother whispered to me with a motherly twinkle in her eye, "That could be you."

Later that same day, my older sister hosted a luncheon with family and friends. While in line to make a sandwich, a long time family friend confronted my younger sister about her leaving the church. I stood quietly as my sister simply and honestly explained her reasons without drawing too much attention to herself. Flabbergasted, the family friend turned to me and said, "Well, you still go to church, don't you?" I said, "No," and did not elaborate. She replied, "It's okay. We still love you."

Around the following Christmas, my mother got a Nook. She had a hard time setting it up, and asked me to help her. Per her request, the first book I put on the device was C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, which is about as faith affirming as a book can be without being actual scripture. The second book was the entire Mormon canon.

When my wife and I started dating, her family was concerned that I was not an active believing Mormon. Her father even wrote her an email citing, among other things, my disbelief as a disqualifying attribute for someone looking to date his little girl, for whom he only wants the best.

A couple of years later another niece of mine was to be baptized. This time I declined the invitation, citing my own bachelor party as the reason, which none of my family attended (to be fair, it wasn't much of a party, possibly due to lack of attendance).

At my wedding, while my wife and I were busy posing for pictures next to a cabin in the middle of a lush vineyard on a sunny July morning, my father volunteered himself to offer a prayer over the reception food. I suspect this was his passive aggressive way of shoehorning some religion into our otherwise completely secular outdoor ceremony. Although, I never bothered to ask him directly. (I realize this one sounds fairly innocuous, so let me put it in a different context. Suppose a Christian attended a Jewish Passover celebration, and decided to interrupt the festivities with a prayer to Jesus. It would seem to be in poor taste, no?)

In an attempt to get us to use a Mormon Bishop as our wedding officiant, who would have been compelled by protocol to use his platform as an opportunity to chastise us for not having a real wedding in a Mormon Temple, my in-laws refused to pay the non-denominational minister we used for our secular ceremony (It was totally worth the $150 to not be talked down to at my own wedding).

I have only attended two (that's right, two!) of my seven siblings' wedding ceremonies due to Mormon prohibitions on non-card-carrying Mormons entering their temples.

When the U.S. supreme court legalized gay marriage in 2015, I posted a picture of a notoriously anti-gay Mormon leader with a rainbow overlay on my Facebook wall as a joke. A couple days later, the church leader died, and my post exploded with comments. My father in-law wrote a rather long private email to me defending the church leader, and chastising me for being so insensitive. I wrote a thoughtful response back defending my post, and inviting my father in-law in a discussion about the issue. I never received a response. Later, he admitted to my wife that he didn't even bother to read what I wrote.

About a year ago, while attending a Sunday dinner with my in-laws, without any notice my father in-law decided to turn the TV to a live Mormon holiday broadcast. They were surprised when my wife announced about five minutes into the broadcast that we were leaving.

A few weeks later, my wife and I helped her family with some home renovations. Her mother invited us to stay for dinner, to which she had also invited the sister missionaries.

When my father died last year, part of the funeral preparations involved dressing my father's body in his Mormon Temple clothes, which are normally kept out of view of anyone who does not have a current Temple Recommend, even otherwise active believing Mormons. Traditionally, the dressing occurs the day before the viewing by family or close Mormon friends. I was told about the dressing, but was not invited to participate due to my disbelief. My sister in-law even joked about how distraught some family members would be if I just showed up to help. At the viewing, my older brother thought it unjust and unnecessary for my younger sister and I to have been excluded from the dressing, and he invited us to put the finishing touches on my father before we closed the casket.

Over the holidays, my wife asked her mother if she could borrow some soda for a drink her younger sister had told her to try. Her mother responded, "Is it for alcohol? If it is, I don't think I can give it to you. I don't want to be a part of that."

The next time we were at the in-law's home they invited us to attend a fireside (a special church service at night), in which my wife's teenage brother would be speaking. My wife asked if I was interested in attending. I flatly said, "No." My mother in-law was visibly disappointed.

I have tried to maintain healthy boundaries with believing family and friends, while ensuring mutual respect, at times less successfully, I admit. But it seems to be one sided. Imagine if my in-laws had asked us for a loaf of bread, and I responded, "Will it be used for the sacrament? If so, I don't want to give it to you, because I don't want to be a part of that." Imagine if we had invited my in-laws to dinner, to which we had also invited friends who were very vocal about leaving the church, and afterwards we decided to watch the most recent episode of the Atheist Experience.

Imagine I had told my mother that I did not want to put religious books on her Nook because I didn't support what they said, and I didn't want to enable her delusion. Imagine someone told me they had recently started going to church and I responded, "It's okay. I love you anyway." Imagine if a child of mine joined a church, any church, and I told them that because they believe in unsubstantiated nonsense I have failed them as a parent. Imagine I had responded to my mother after she tried to guilt trip me back into church activity at my niece's baptism, "Ya know, Mom, because you're a woman in the the church, that can never be you."

Imagine I had told my believing Mormon friends and family that they were not invited to my wedding because they did not believe the same thing as me. Imagine I stood up at a Mormon wedding reception (because I would not be allowed to attend the wedding ceremony) and started explaining how the Book of Mormon is historically and scientifically anachronistic. Imagine I told my believing family they could not dress my body at my funeral because they believe in fairy tales.

All things considered, I feel like I have been pretty goddamn cordial.

BONUS MATERIAL:

Christopher Hitchens addressing similar nonsense:

MY CAUTIONARY TALE

[This post may be Not Safe For Work]

During my transition out of Mormonism I always knew that if I ever decided to vocalize my opposition to the church some of my believing friends and family would be upset by it. I suspected that some might even sever ties with me entirely. I wasn't wrong. What I didn't expect, however, was for people who agree with my position, that the Mormon church is nonsense and is in many ways harmful, would also sever ties with me. This is that kind of story.

Before I get into the specifics of my falling out with "John," I should give some background into our relationship. In 2008, about a year after I graduated from Mormon-run Brigham Young University, I stop going to church. I don't tell anyone. I simply move to an area where no one knows me and slip into obscurity.

A year later, a friend I knew at BYU asks me to join his band. Excited, I audition and get the part. After a few practice sessions I decide I should probably let this friend know that I haven't been to church for over a year and probably will not go back. As I prepare myself mentally for this conversation--a dreaded moment for many new atheists--my friend pulls me aside and tells me how much he appreciates me joining the band. He adds that he was nervous because no one else in the band is active in the church and now he and I can support each other. Really, he is beaming. I don't have the heart to tell him the truth. So, I lie.

The lie is easy at first. After all, I had been going through the motions for years. What harm could it do to lie a little longer if it helps a friend?

A few months go by and John joins the band. John had left Mormonism several years prior and is a full fledged ex-Mormon. He parties hard with no regrets. I envy his open disbelief, and although I have no real interest in alcohol or pot, I also envy John's free-spirited lifestyle. Like my other friend, John has no idea I am a closeted atheist.

Sure, there are many times I could come clean, but for the first year or so in the band, whenever someone confronts me on Mormonism, or why I am in a "party band" if I don't drink, other members of the band defend me: "Oh, Matt? Ya, he's Mormon. He doesn't drink." And I just sit there, letting others lie for me. This, of course, makes lying easier.

Eventually, my Mormon friend leaves the band. After a period of intermittent participation, John also leaves, but on poor terms, severing ties with everyone in the group. The details aren't necessary to this story, but I will say I understand why John felt the need to do this, and I still support his decision to cut me off at this time. I would have done the same.

With my Mormon friend out of the band, I am able to test the waters a little bit. I make a few subtle comments critical of Mormonism here and there. No one seems to really notice at first, but over time people pick up on my disbelief, and ever-so gradually, I open up to my band-mates.

In 2012 my Mormon friend joins us for a reunion show. During rehearsal, one of the other band members casually mentions that I no longer believe in Mormonism. My friend's jaw drops to the floor. Later, we talk it out. He seems to be more surprised than anything. He saw me as Matt, the super chill Mormon so comfortable and firm in his beliefs that he can be a part of a hard-hitting party band for years and never slip up and go off the deep end. In truth, I was just never that interested in drinking and partying. I enjoyed the music.

Around this time, John reaches out to me on Facebook and we are on surprisingly good terms.

In 2015 I post a picture on Facebook openly satirizing a leader of the Mormon church and my feed explodes. After weeks of damage control, I start a private Facebook group to offer--and receive--support from other people in similar positions. I invite John to this group. In return, John invites me to a similar private group of his own.

At first, John is thrilled to find out that I have left the church. He participates in the group almost as much I do, posting memes eviscerating religion, such as the following:

In 2016, I attend a get-together with some old friends from BYU and I discover that a guy I used to know well is currently struggling with a mixed-faith marriage. I add him to our private support group and I post the following on my Facebook page:

To which, John responds:

I have become tired of keeping quiet. I have become tired of friends and family not knowing where I stand with the church. I have become pent up rage, destroyer of worldviews. I start posting articles and satirical memes multiple times a day. Despite my rage induced posting, I never really change my purpose in being outspoken: to reach those who are trapped going through the motions of belief, as I did for so many years.

On 8/9/16 I post a link in our support group to an upcoming mass resignation from the Mormon church at a local park, and John responds:

On 8/29/16, seemingly on the level, John posts the following:

Later that same day I post a follow up to the mass resignation. John responds:

John leaves the group. I notice that we are no longer Facebook friends. Concerned, I reach out to him and he lashes out:

After my last comment, I send John a friend request, which he ignores, makes his final comments and disables his Facebook profile. A few weeks later he reactivates his profile, but he has blocked me, removed me from his private group, and I am unable to message him.

I don't know where I went wrong. I don't how fix it. I am still unsure why he is so upset with me. It seems to have come from out of left field.

I want to point out his own hypocrisy in spending years pressuring me to abandon my beliefs and principles, to join him in drinking and smoking. I want to know if he really thinks my Facebook posts are on the same level as him repeatedly telling me to my face that my beliefs are stupid. I want him to explain to me, if he can, how sitting quietly in the corner after his comments, watching him party while I stay in the closet of atheism for the sake of a friend, makes me "holier than thou." I want to know how he can post two memes making fun of religion in my private support group--in which he has been an active participant for a year--and then, hours later, piss on my group and on me personally for posting about an event meant to build solidarity.

I don't know if I will ever get the chance to throw it all in his face.

I don't know if I really want to.

Seriously, what good would come from it?




On a positive note, after some cooling off, I posted the following in the support group and received some wonderful responses:

TERMS AND CONDITIONS MAY APPLY

The following video of Mormon Apostle Elder D. Todd Christofferson (there's a lofty self-made title for you) was shared on my Facebook feed:

It's great that Mormon church leaders are trying to use more inclusive language, as they do in this video. I have a few issues, though...

First, actions speak louder than words. The church talks a good game, but it doesn't have the best track record among gays, blacks and women. 

Second, Mr. Christofferson mentions that a segment of the population that leaves the church does so because they don't feel accepted or welcome in the church. I am sure such people do exist, but in my experience, feelings of alienation come as a result of deeper issues and doubts--not because Mormons aren't "friendly" enough. John Dehlin has studied this and his work shows that "being offended" or "not having a friend" in church are among the least common reasons people leave Mormonism. 

Third, the idea that Mormons welcome diversity is tenuous and conditional. What they really mean is that they welcome all to adopt their culture and religion. This is demonstrated by their massive missionary efforts, through which they send tens of thousands of young adults (most of whom are straight out of high school) with the sole purpose of convincing everyone on earth that their world view is incomplete and flawed and that Mormonism is infinitely better. A large part of culture is derived from the predominant religions in the region. Which means that even though some people who have joined Mormonism have been able to assimilate some aspects of their culture (i.e. Polynesians), the roots of their culture of origin must be gutted and abandoned before they can truly accept Mormonism ("Thou shalt have no other gods before me"). 

When I hear Mormon leaders talk about diversity, what I really hear is a fleeting hope that enough non-white people will join the church so that they can be taken seriously as a major world religion. An ambitious task for a religion boasting less than 1% of the global population.

USER FRIENDLY

I have heard religious people use the following scripture as an argument against atheism: "The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God." This is the theological equivalent schoolyard name calling. If by "fool" they mean a person who does not believe the same unsubstantiated nonsense as they believe, well, it seems to be more of a compliment than an insult. Such provocations only serve to expose the weakness of their arguments. If there was anything of substance to be presented, they would not fall upon insults to rattle their opponent. Arguments stand or fall on their own merits, as Matt Dillahunty points out. Name calling is not an argument.

It is in this vein of "I know you are, but what am I?" that I have a hard time stomaching some of the ideas promoted in the most recent General Conference of the Mormon Church. One leader, Mr. Dieter Uchtdorf, flat out said that skepticism is the easy path and lacks the moral courage and integrity that a faith-filled life requires. This is absurd and condescending to anyone who has wrestled with difficult topics while a believing Mormon.

Problems and inconsistencies in the Mormon narrative, especially regarding history and the veracity of Mormon scripture, have caused many people over the years to question whether the church is true. This phenomenon has only accelerated with the advent of the Internet, which has increased the layman's access to information. In the past, when someone heard disconcerting information they would have to pour through volumes of books in order to find the truth. Now, most people can fact check claims they hear in church on their phones as they sit in the pews. Pulling wool over the eyes of the average Joe has become more challenging to charlatans everywhere.

  

The accessibility of information and the effect of raising doubts in members has become a growing problem for the Mormon church. Many people have speculated that this problem has caused the church to be more open about their history in recent essays published by the church, in an attempt to get ahead of the curve of dwindling membership.

Surely, amid the commotion, Mr. Uchtdorf has spoken to sincere believers who struggle with their new-found doubts. Surely, he has heard their pleas for satisfactory and comprehensive answers to their questions. Surely, he has seen the alienation that comes to members who doubt and the strength of character it takes to step away from the church of their family and friends. How dare he call it the "easy way." There is nothing easy about it.

I have a hard time believing that someone in Mr. Uchtdorf's position could make such a statement naively. Which implies that he made a conscious decision to ostracize a growing segment of the population of the church.

Another idea promoted in this conference is that true-believing members should only read church approved sources for historical information. In particular, members should avoid the Internet when researching the church. This is obviously a response to the problem described above that members are coming across information on the Internet which disproves the user-friendly version of church history promoted by the church itself. The more the church can control the narrative, the more they can insulate members from facts which challenge faith.

This is done out of necessity, of course. Without resorting to such totalitarian tactics, the church would likely continue to lose members--especially young adults--which directly threatens their coffers. And without ever-inflating tax-free money bags, how else would the church buy another multi-billion dollar high-end mall?

AS THE WHEELS TURN

"Religion provides the solace for the turmoil that it creates."

--Byron Danelius

A few weeks ago I had an unexpected conversation with a Mormon coworker about Mormonism. By piecing together things which I had said over the few days prior, she suspected that I was no longer Mormon. So, in a characteristic boldness, she asked if I was LDS. This led to an extensive conversation about Mormon culture--in particular, the all-too-common alienation of non-Mormons--and doubts, and research, and family pressures to believe and go on a mission. It was surprisingly enjoyable.

One of the reasons I hesitate to engage in these conversations is because many people do not take them very well. My disbelief in unsubstantiated faith claims has changed the nature of my relationships with several family members and friends. Most of the people around me trumpet their beliefs without a second thought. Mormons breed a culture of conformity which causes those who question or doubt to wonder if something is wrong with them.

After all, when everyone you know tells you that praying to god about the veracity of the Book of Mormon--the keystone of Mormonism, upon which the religion rises or falls--should bring about a specific feeling in your gut, what does it mean when that does not happen? Furthermore, what does it mean when that does not happen for the better part of a decade? The church will say "try again, and keep trying until it happens." This faux-scientific test seems to have only one acceptable outcome, according to the church. The outcome which favors their purse.

Because of these pressures to experience the same warm fuzzies as everyone else, Mormons feel as if these experiences, and by extension Mormonism generally, are inexorably tied to their identity. Their beliefs define them. This results in a knee-jerk defensiveness when an attack on Mormonism occurs. The attack is not just against an idea or an organization, but against the person. They often have difficulty differentiating between their beliefs and themselves.

You can imagine my surprise, then, when my coworker so candidly discussed difficult topics with me. She is a believer. I have no reason to assume that our conversation has given her cause to doubt. More than anything, she genuinely wanted to understand my experience. How refreshing.

I recently reconnected with an old friend through Reddit. We grew up in the same Mormon congregation and over the years have independently drifted way from the church. His faith crisis is relatively new, despite accumulating doubts for several years, and is still considered active in the church. Through our conversations, I have become aware of other mutual acquaintances who have either left the church, or who are beginning their own faith crisis. I have also become aware that despite my avoidance of outing myself as a non-believer, many people have noticed my disaffection with religion.

Naturally, this has caused me to think ("A most dangerous pastime." "I know."). Perhaps there are more people in my situation than I had supposed. Perhaps there are those who would benefit from a genuine conversation with someone who has gone through a similar experience. I recall feeling lonely when I first acknowledged my doubts. One of the first and most noticeable things about leaving a religion is the lack of a social group. This is why so many people who leave Mormonism have flocked to ex-Mormon support groups and meet-ups.

Personally, I haven't done much with the ex-Mormon community. I haven't felt a particularly strong need for it, although, at times I have thought about it. But my recent discussions with my coworker and my old friend have wet my appetite for similar discussions. I guess what I am getting at is that it may be time for me to be more vocal about my views on religion.

Then again, that sounds like a whole thing, and I'm not really into doing things and stuff. 

DUMB IT DOWN

"Never argue with an idiot. They drag you down to their level, and then beat you with experience."
--Dilbert

Some of the more convoluted religious discussions I have participated in have been on the topic of salvation for the mentally disabled. Many religions claim that entrance into heaven is conditional upon certain acts of contrition and ritual manifestations of belief. Arbitrary acts of compliance, such as baptism, confession, communion, sacraments, endowments, and so on, are meant to show an all-knowing god that you really mean it--that you really do super-duper believe.

The question becomes, "since many mentally disabled people do not fully understand the meaning behind religious ceremonies, or are incapable of understanding what a god even is, are they required to go through these rites of passage in order to make it into heaven?"

I first encountered this question while on my mission, when a middle aged woman requested that her mentally retarded 20 year old son be baptized. As missionaries, we looked forward to any baptism. Even so, it seemed unnecessary to baptize a grown man with the mind of a five year old. Surely god would allow him into heaven based on his condition, which surely god had imposed on him in the first place.

A few years ago autism was reclassified and broadened to a spectrum disorder, which allows for gradation of symptoms and severity of the condition. Still, there are many things which are in common of autistics as a whole. For instance, autistics tend to be analytically minded, and black and white in their thinking. This makes nuanced social and moral situations difficult for them to process. Because of these attributes, autism is especially interesting when discussing the salvation of the mentally challenged.

A Mormon associate of mine has an 11 year old autistic son (let's call him Peter) who told his mother that he doesn't want to go to church anymore because he hasn't seen any evidence for Jesus. In contrast, a Mormon relative of mine also has an 11 year old autistic son (let's call him John) who loves going to church and often makes decisions concerning social interactions based on lessons he has learned at church. Peter is very independent—almost to a fault—and John depends greatly on his parents and younger brother for guidance.

When Peter's mother told me about his decision to stop going to church, several people in our group reassured her that "he will come around." In Mormonism this means that at some point Peter will have a spiritual experience, or a "burning in his bosom," which Mormons believe is a sign that god is talking to them.

This burning sensation, as far as my ex-Mormon mind can understand, is no different than a "burning" desire for a proposition to be true. Meaning, Mormons believe that because they "have a good feeling" about Mormonism, this means that Mormonism is true. But to me, this is hardly a sound reason to assume the supernatural.

Based on other encounters Peter's mother has shared with me, I don't see Peter "coming around" to Mormonism solely based on feelings. Mormons will likely dismiss his unbelief as a symptom of his mental state, and claim that god will (probably) forgive him accordingly. This makes heaven a consolation prize for those inconvenienced by god's extra-strength cruelty in this life, leaving those who only experience god's regular-strength cruelty to fend for themselves.

If god can so easily forgive a mentally disabled person predisposed to unbelief, why can't he do the same for the rest of us unbelievers? Why is belief in something for which there is no evidence so important for our eternal salvation? What kind of plan is this?

John, on the other hand, has come to rely on church lessons for moral context and pro-social behavior. Mormonism has become his “Rosetta Stone” into social interactions. He is one of the few people I have met who really values and thinks about phrases like "What Would Jesus Do?"

John will likely remain in Mormonism as an adult because he has developed a comfortable routine out of it--another attribute of many autistics. Mormonism helps him understand right and wrong. I have discussed in other posts how difficult it is for many people who have based their moral standard on a belief in god to reconsider their morality after realizing god doesn't exist. For an autistic person who has made religion a social barometer and a routine, this becomes exponentially more challenging.

It will be interesting to see how John turns out, especially considering his affinity for science and space exploration. I wonder how his mind will process a potential faith crisis after, say, praying for someone to get well and waiting in vain for a response from god. After all, the scriptures are clear in the chain of events: pray in faith for something righteous and god will grant it. Will he so easily accept the inconsistent ad hoc rationalizations offered by believers for god's apparent negligence? I can't say. I hope that if that day comes, he finds a secular worldview to be just as useful in determining his morals and social behavior.

BONUS MATERIAL:





South Park weighing in on the subject: