Resignation: Doctrine Cannot Be Separated from History

I left off my last post by describing the angry feelings of betrayal that I experienced after having read Fawn Brodie’s No Man Knows My History. It wasn’t so much that I was reading things I’d never heard of before – although there were more than a few surprises. What Brodie did is look at Joseph Smith’s history and the early history of the institution of the LDS Church (which are pretty much one and the same) from a different perspective. She told the story that chapel Mormons never heard. The other side of the story. And it was pretty compelling.

In early 2012, I read D. Michael Quinn’s two books about Mormon Heirarchy, i.e., Mormon Heirarchy: Origins of Power and Mormon Heirarchy: Extensions of Power. As was the case with Brodie, Quinn revealed a very-well researched and documented account of early Church history that was very different than the one I was accustomed to reading. Also like Brodie, there were more than a few arched eyebrow moments when I read something I’d never heard of before but that was clearly solid history. 

Reading these books helped me to shake myself loose from the vestiges of belief I still had. As I expressed in my last post, my problem was that many of the core LDS doctrines – particularly those preached before the Nauvoo period – had made sense to me. The restoration argument was very plausible. The coming forth of the Book of Mormon and the doctrines it taught were plausible. Other doctrines developed by Joseph Smith were not only plausible but were attractive to me. 

But as I read, the evidence mounted. And so did my anger. 

• Anger at the Church for deliberately deceiving its members about who Joseph Smith was and what he did during the 1820’s. 
• Anger at the Church for deliberately and consciously advancing one story of how the Book of Mormon was translated while history reveals a different account (the seer stone in the hat method). 
• Anger at the Church for concealing how early “revelations” were later changed to accommodate evolving doctrinal developments. 
• Anger at the Church for deliberately glossing over glaring “problems” with the Book of Mormon that were presented to the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve as early as the 1920’s (by B.H. Roberts).
• Anger at the Church for deliberately concealing information about Joseph Smith’s evolving doctrine of polygamy that began in the early Kirtland period.

I could go on and on. 

It was this evidence and this anger at being duped in so many ways that made it much easier for me to sever the remaining cords of belief in an institution and belief system to which I had given much of my life.

The First Vision? How could I believe in this doctrine if Joseph Smith himself described it in at least four different ways? How could I believe in this doctrine if his family knew nothing about it or about the visitation of Moroni in 1823? Rather, the evidence pointed to the fact that this doctrine, like all of Mormonism, was evolving into something quite different than it had originally been conceived of being. 

The Book of Mormon? How could I believe in the divine origin of the Book of Mormon if Joseph Smith himself never preached from it and uttered his thanks to be rid of the last remaining written manuscript when it was put in a time capsule in the Nauvoo House? How could I continue to believe in it when the church that evolved in the 1830’s and early 1840’s bore little resemblance to that described in the Book of Mormon? 

Joseph Smith? As the evidence mounted, I found a Joseph Smith emerging that was very different than the one depicted today by the Church. What was I to think of him? 

No matter how much some of the “doctrines of the restoration” are appealing, they cannot be divorced from the poisoned well from which they originated. (And let me state that I am not interested in debating the matters I have referenced in this post. The purpose of this post is to tell my story, not to prove it to someone else.)

When I was investigating the Church in 1983, I was once told that “it’s really very simple: if the Book of Mormon is true, then Joseph Smith was a prophet and the Church is what he said it is.” In 2011-2012, I reversed this pithy little statement: If the Book of Mormon is not what it purports to be, then Joseph Smith was not a prophet. Conversely if Joseph Smith was not what he purported to be, then the Book of Mormon is – ultimately – a fraud. In both these cases, if Joseph Smith was not what he purported to be, then the “doctrines” that he advanced were not revelations from God. It’s really very simple.

That’s what I told myself in the spring of 2012. I came to a point where I told myself that I didn’t have all the answers, but I didn’t need all the answers. I knew enough to know that Mormonism is no more “true” than is Methodism, or Presbyterianism, or Catholicism, or any number of other “-isms.” In anything, Mormonism was even “less true,” because, ultimately, it is based on historical lies and deceit. No matter how appealing some of the Church’s doctrines may be, these teachings cannot be separated from the historical context in which they arose.

Thus were any remaining, lingering threads of belief I had in the Mormon Church severed … forever.

Imperfections Not of Our Choosing

"A same­ gender relationship is inconsistent with God’s eternal pattern ... 

We all struggle with imperfections, some not of our choosing."

~ Tad Callister, Mormon General Authority

The Mormon social media lit up this past week concerning an article in the March issue of the Ensign authored by Tad Callister, a member of the Presidency of the Seventy. Most of the discussion focused on Callister's comments concerning young women being the guardians of the virtue of the young men of the Church.

But he had a lot of other things to say on the subject of morality, including some choice comments about those "who have same-gender tendencies." (Just as Callister could not bring himself to use the word "masturbation," using instead the term "self-abuse," he apparently could not even bring himself to use the term "same-sex attraction" to describe homosexuality.)

There is oh so much that could be written about the few short paragraphs that Elder Callister devotes to "same gender relationships," but I'd like to focus in this post on the following passage:

"We all struggle with imperfections, some not of our choosing. But we also believe in an infinite Atonement that has the capacity in this life or the life to come to endow us with every power necessary to convert our weaknesses and imperfections into strengths. The Lord promised us, “For if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27)."

I cannot express how much I wrestled with this scripture for almost three decades of my life. And I'm quite confident in stating that I doubt there is a gay or lesbian Mormon who has not done the same - who, in the infamous words of Spencer W. Kimball, has knocked on that door that would banish their homosexuality "until [their] knuckles are bloody, till [their] head is bruised, till [their] muscles are sore? 

This scripture was a constant reminder that I obviously wasn't doing something right, regardless of how hard I tried. I knew what my "weakness" was. I tried to be humble, I tried to have faith. I got married. I had 10 children. I did everything I could. But still the weakness remained.

Mormon theology and culture encourages one to perceive of oneself as Superman (or Wonder Woman, as the case may be). There's a lot of talk in the LDS Church about the "power of the Atonement" and "applying the Atonement" - as in Elder Callister's article. As I once explained to a non-Mormon friend, what this technically means, in Mormon theology, is that Jesus took upon himself all our sins, thus enabling us to be redeemed from the Fall. However, Mormons add the gloss that Jesus not only redeemed us from our sins but also from all sorts of bad stuff that aren't really sins but make life pretty shitty. Technically, Mormon theology teaches the centrality of Jesus' atonement and our reliance upon him, and him alone, to "save" us.

Putting technicalities aside, the practical matter is that members of the Church typically believe that their salvation is up to them. This is one of the elephants in every Mormon living room, so to speak - never discussed, but everyone knows it is there. Members may have to go to the celestial store and purchase some "Atonement" in order to apply to their lives - thus leading to a beautifully insightful comment made by Dr. Bill Bradshaw (one of the founders of LDS Family Fellowship) that many Mormons tend to approach the Atonement as "consumers" - but beyond that, it's up to them. 

Gay Mormons are repeatedly told that, first of all, they're not "gay," they're "same gender attracted," and second, that they can "overcome" their "feelings of same gender attraction" by "applying the Atonement." They are also told - repeatedly - that God gives no commandment to his children unless he prepares a way for them to do what he has commanded (another Book of Mormon scripture). This deadly spiritual mix has led to an existential despair that, on far too many occasions, has led gay Mormon men to kill themselves.

Thus the Superman comment. In my case, I carried my own Kryptonite deep inside me. It - my innate homosexuality - was my greatest weakness, the one I tried most desperately to hide, to control, to subdue, to eliminate (as if it was something that could be flushed through my bowels from my body).  I prayed, I fasted, I "applied the Atonement." But still my "weakness" was there, sucking the life out of me.

It was only when I came out that my greatest weakness became my greatest strength, my greatest asset, my secret weapon that exploded from within, shattering my false persona, my heterosexual Mormon identity and, ultimately, my faith in Mormonism. Ironically, in so doing, I fulfilled - in a manner of speaking - the scripture that had haunted me for so many years.  I no longer felt the need to be Superman. I realized that be strong, all I had to do was to be myself.