Hi

I provided that background because the way I joined the Church is helpful in understanding why I could ultimately leave it with ease. And what some of the difficulties were.

Fast forward 15 years.

Wait…slow down…that was TOO fast…

In the interim between my joining the Church and my leaving the Church, my wife and I set about to make certain we were "A-teamers" in any Ward we lived in. My wife in particular was a righteous soul who was working her way into the Celestial Kingdom, and despite my glaring and numerous deficiencies, I was determined to at least make a good-faith effort to join with her in the eternities, populating worlds without number, that sort of thing. I served in two Elders' Quorum presidencies, taught numerous adult and youth Sunday School classes, was the Young Men's President and the Cub Master, and was the First Counselor in two different Bishoprics. My wife was the Gospel Doctrine teacher in every Ward we've lived in but the current one, Young Women's President, Primary President, and also taught numerous youth Sunday school and Primary classes. We were in it DEEP...

Okay, 15 years later I landed a job as the Equal Employment Opportunity and Diversity Manager in the government agency for which I work. Odd job for a white, Mormon male... Early on in that job I wrote an essay for general distribution likening Martin Luther King, Jr. to the founding fathers of the United States, making some of the parallels to help my "pale and male" counterparts understand the significance of the role that MLK played in our history (tragically, you still have to point that out to certain pockets in our country). Afterward, I was severely challenged by a Choctaw woman in our workforce who made it abundantly clear that I didn't know a THING about the challenges of minority people in this country, and did I not have a clue that not everyone thinks so highly of the founding fathers? Had I never heard the doctrine of "manifest destiny?"

I had to confess that I had not. I was deeply humbled by the sudden awareness of the depth of my ignorance. (I still maintain it was a good essay, but only from a more limited point of view than I had intended). Anyway, in an effort to begin to reduce my cluelessness quotient, I wandered into Barnes & Noble and started picking up book titles in the Native American section. Over the course of the next year, I read about their history, their treaties, the massacres, their art, their medicine, their spirituality, their poetry, their fiction, the biographies of some of their most notable characters…until one day I finally began to come to an awareness of the manner in which the native people of this country viewed the universe and themselves in relationship to that universe—and it was categorically different than the white, Christian/Mormon world view that I had known so intimately.

I had a paradigm shift. A category 10 paradigm shift, at that. It crumbled my foundation, because I realized in that moment that if there were two ways of viewing the universe, then there were probably many, many others. And if they were all just different ways in which people sought to explain their existence relative to the bigger “all that is”, then why was Christianity or Mormonism any different? Was it ALL just paradigmatic?

Whoa…

So after that year of reading Native American stuff, I turned my attention to the history of monotheism and its attendant cultures. It was during this reading period that I became so enamored of Karen Armstrong, her “History of God” being one of the early titles I read. But beyond that, I read Jewish History, Christian History, Buddhist History, Muslim history, biographies of the Buddha and Mohammed…I read Spong, I read the Dead Sea Scrolls, I read about Constantine, about “higher criticism” and midrash, and digested a small library of eastern thought and spiritualism (Taoism, Tibetan Buddhism, Zen)…and at some point, I had another paradigm shift. God was the product of social evolution!

Whoa…

Mixed in there at this time I was also reading a lot of new physics stuff. Chaos, complexity, fractals, string theory, quantum mechanics, and biographies of some of the leading physicists and theorists who were beginning to describe these phenomenon. ‘Nuther paradigm shift. Not only was God the product of social evolution, but I was catching a glimmer of how “all of creation” could come into being in the absence of “the watchmaker.”

Whoa…

But here’s the funny part. Remember my wife? The spritely little thing that was working her way to the Celestial Kingdom and dragging me along? I knew at a deep, core level that if I abandoned Mormonism, I abandoned my family. So I did not even allow my mind to wander down that path. That particular road was gated and locked, and I would not allow myself to venture there. So here I am, doubting the very existence of God, but maintaining that the Church is still probably true, and going about the business of being an A-team Mormon. Crazy-making stuff, eh?

Christmas of 1999 finds both of us in a book store looking for a Christmas gift for my father-in-law, a faithful Mormon second to none, schooled in the Bruce R. McConkie school of thought, and who was at that time serving a mission (with his wife) . On a large display table in the store was a stack of new books entitled, “Mormon America” by the Ostlings. Deceived by the title, we thought this book was going to be all about how America’s “manifest destiny” (oh, the irony) was one of Mormonism. See, the Church at that time was still all about the social scientist Stark’s claim that “Mormonism was the fastest growing church, and that by the year 2080, there would be 265 million Mormons.” Anyway, we bought one for my in-laws…and we bought one for ourselves.

It was the first time either of us had ever read any REAL church history.

Multiple versions of the first vision? What? Peep stones? Face in a hat? Are you KIDDING ME? Joseph was a polygamist? 14 year old girls? We excommunicate historians and critics for writing the truth about this stuff?

Who ARE we?

Both of us were pretty distraught by what we were reading, and yet the tone of the book was really just informational—a documentary on paper—written by seasoned journalists who had no axe to grind in relation to the Church. “Surely their sources must be anti-Mormon” we reasoned to ourselves. However, being committed to the notion that we should “seek after the truth, and the truth shall set you free,” we launched into a quest for the truth, believing in our hearts that the church would be vindicated. It had to…

The list of books we read on Church History is lengthy. We avoided books that were “anti-Mormon”, but we also avoided books written by Church apologists. I didn’t respect FARMS any more back then than I do now. We read D. Michael Quinn, Fawn Brodie, Todd Compton, Avery & Tippetts, Ferguson, Arrington…and on and on. Early in that journey, it became clear to us that the Ostlings had NOT been relying on anti-Mormon materials--they didn't need to--, but they had simply exposed themselves to the hidden reality behind the façade of Mormonism that had hidden the truth from us for years.

Major paradigm shift. The Church was simply the creation of Joseph, Brigham, and many other “men of their day,” who were bright, capable, magically oriented, power-hungry and controlling, and who deceived themselves as much as they deceived their followers. I actually could be reasonably charitable to those men, given the recognition that many people did heinous things believing they were acceptable because of the culture of the day. Christopher Columbus springs to mind…

But the modern Church leaders—that was a different story. How could they stand before us month after month, conference after conference, and not only hide this information, but condemn the faithful members who want to talk about it? Excommunicate the faithful members who uncover it and write about it? It was unfathomable to us.

Thankfully, there was another family in our Ward that we were drawing very close to, and we were able to talk openly about our discoveries. They were naturally appalled at first, but as we talked and talked, they talked, too, and started reading and exploring…and “flop,” out they came! Over the next several years, we formed a powerful friendship, and found numerous other seekers in our Ward and our community who were coming to the same conclusions. The support we gained and gave to one another during those early years was priceless. I don’t know how people do it without that kind of community…

Funny little twist to the story. Shortly after reading Mormon America, I got a call from the Stake Executive Secretary. That’s usually a bad sign, so we were pretty curious as we made our way to the Stake Center that Sunday morning six years ago. In that meeting, we were informed that we were getting a new Bishop, and he had called me to be his First Counselor. Now, understand that at this point, I was still in the “question the existence of God but not the Book of Mormon” phase of my dysfunction, which makes my answer more understandable. I said, “Okay.”

See, my reasoning was thus. My wife was, at that point, still a very faithful Mormon, and I believed that serving in the Bishopric would actually be good for me. It would refocus my attention on things like scripture study, family prayer, service to my fellow ward members, that sort of thing. In the process, I anticipated that it would bring me back closer to the gospel and help secure my family. So I accepted the call and was ordained a High Priest and member of the Bishopric the following Sunday.

Silly me.

Three months later, both of us had read enough to realize that whatever the Church was, it WASN’T the one-true-only, nor was it what it purported to be. I futzed around in the Bishopric until I had been in a year, and then asked for a release.

It was at that point that the garments came off. We slowly began to back away from Church attendance. First I stopped attending Sunday School, and my best friend and I would slip off to Barnes & Noble for a mocha…a newly discovered vice that got us good and amped for Priesthood. (Priesthood was never so fun as it was with a couple of shots of espresso coursing through your system and a fist full of Altoids in your mouth to cover the smell.) After a while it became brutally apparent that I wasn’t welcome in Priesthood, because I kept challenging stuff, saying things like, “Ezra Taft Benson was part of the problem…” that sort of thing. You know you’re had when the EQ president (I couldn’t stand High Priests, and continued to attend with the Elders) had to stand at the end of the lesson and correct the false doctrine you’ve been spouting during the meeting.

So I quite attending Priesthood, much to their eternal relief. And then Sacrament meeting was only three times a month. Then two.

Our strategy, in order to protect my wife’s business (a reputation-based business) was to ease out quietly without scandal. We didn’t make any grand pronouncements, we didn’t submit any letters, we just slowly, slowly, backed away.

In the process, we discovered how much more family time we could spend when we a) had a full weekend to go and do something together, and b) had an extra 10% in our pockets to do it with. Our family is happier and healthier than we’ve ever been, closer as a family than most Mormon families we knew when active, and the guilt of being unable to live the “perfect Mormon life” has been shed forever.

It was easy for me…I was returning home. It was hell for my wife, who was born into a strong LDS family, and who hails from pioneer stock. But the wounds heal, and hearts soften on both sides as everyone comes to understand that we are not trying to change anyone else, not making a mockery of their sacred beliefs, and that we continue to uphold the best parts of Mormonism, namely the value of education, honest living, strong families, hard work, charitable contribution, etc.

I’ve said it many times on this forum, but joining the Church, and later leaving it, was the single most profound experience of my entire life (to date). Of all the things I’ve learned, nothing has taught me more about myself, about religion, about culture, and about people than the act of joining a specific culture, living in it deeply for 15 years, and then leaving it. I cherish the experience. I wouldn’t even ask for my tithing money back, or all the Sundays, or the years of wearing garments, because it was living those things that taught me so much when I walked away.

I believe I have healed. My participation here, at PostMormon, was once for me. But now more than ever it’s for others who come up behind me, struggling with the same kind of journey I did, and looking for others out there who have been there, who have weathered the storms, who have felt the hurts, and whose wounds have healed. It’s critical to know that others have gone on and recovered—fully—not only without residual effects, but actually happier, more fulfilled and more joyful in their life experience than they ever were as a Mormon.

So that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!