a hypothesis

Mormonism highly values intrinsic religiosity (belief in teachings and certain truth claims), but implicitly and explicitly demands that it be displayed extrinsically (near perfect attendance, service in volunteer positions, public, physical and vocal displays of belief and conformity). In part due to these pressures, an unknown percent of members regularly attend services, despite their non-belief, for extrinsic reasons, such as social conformity and family relations. These “faithful non-believers” are most often “in the closet” about their true feelings and beliefs, and this may cause stress, cognitive dissonance, and may result in negative mental health outcomes, particularly with regard to depression.

Simply looking at attendance would not be enough to tease out possible risk factors for mental health outcomes. For example, some people attend because they agree with the teachings and it brings them happiness. Others, however, attend for mostly extrinsic reasons, such as social support and friendship. Yet others attend only to avoid ostracism, or even divorce.

I would hypothesis that that Mormons who attend church, but do not believe the teachings and truth claims, have worse mental health outcomes than those who attend as believers. In other words, those who demonstrate extrinsic religiosity while masking their lack of intrinsic religiosity, have worse outcomes than those who attend for both extrinsic and intrinsic reasons.

Just a thought.

coming to different conclusions

I recognize that there are some Mormons who confront many of the same issues I have, but still believe in the church, or, at the very least, stay in the church. Sometimes I fail to understand them, and sometimes they fail to understand me. Here are some of the common questions a stayer may ask a leaver, and my answers.

So the church isn't perfect. So what? Why expect perfection?

I'm not looking for a perfect church or one true church--everyone and everything has flaws. Fine. But at least acknowledge mistakes and problems, apologize for them, and learn from them--don't cover them up, deny them, and pretend like all the damage that comes from them is the fault of the victims. This is what the church has done. I don't expect to find another religion that is perfect and has the "true" conduit to God, just as I do not expect to find the "one true marital relationship" that I should emulate. But I do expect a religion, or any organization or relationship, to serve and help its members, not abuse them. An abusive situation should be fixed, and left, if necessary.

Why don't you feel an obligation to stay in the church and try to improve it?

When I was questioning, I saw a "brain drain" where all the people actually educated about the church were leaving. How could we ever improve it if everyone who sees the problems leaves? I desperately wanted to stay in order to help. People have tried that, and have given up for many valid reasons. For some people it's not worth the fight; there is just too much baggage and too much compromise of integrity and conscience to stay and support such an institution. The church just doesn't allow for a grassroots approach; it quashes "arc-steadiers"; it excommunicates; it correlates.

Why worry about the Truth of the church? Why not focus instead on the Good of the church?

There were two parts to my leaving: First I asked, Is it true? For me, the evidence pointed to NO! And then I asked, Is it good? Can I stay anyway? If no church is "true," why not just stay in the one I was raised in and avoid the pain and heartache of leaving and hurting my family? I asked myself, Does the church uplift, edify, strengthen, and make my life and the lives of my family better? My answer was, No, actually, it doesn't. In addition, it hurts intellectuals, women, homosexuals, youth, the drug-addicted, ethnic minorities, the down-and-out, the poor. Even though most of those labels don't apply to me personally or to my family, they apply to many human beings. I must support them over the institution that hurts or ignores them. It took my attending one other church's service one time for me to realize the Mormon church is not bringing the most joy. Not even close.

There are opportunities for service in the church. Why not stay and serve?

Serve who? The dead? Service in the church is bringing your non-member neighbor cookies and smiling at them (in hopes, of course, that they'll eventually convert); it's teaching in Sunday School stuff you don't believe; it's acting as ward clerk and knowing everyone's private financial matters for a church that demands 10% but doesn't give any of it back (or let us know where it's going); it's exacting confessions from people whose only "sin" was acting on their love and natural, biological drive. How about participating in soup kitchens instead, like so many other churches do, to help keep the hungry and homeless alive? Plenty of service opportunities are out there outside the church, and most of them actually involve helping others.

Surely you can engage with Mormonism on your own terms. Why not approach it cafeteria- style?

Is there really that much flexibility? I can be a recommend-holding woman who wears slacks to church? I can be a non-believing member--who has to discuss my personal spirituality to an acquaintance I would probably have no other reason to talk to (bishop)--and be kept from holding any significant role that has any possibility to actually change anything, even at the ward level? (Oh, but I forget, simply by being female, believer or not, I am already stuck in that position.)

if I'm out, why do I keep talking about it?

Yesterday, I wrote that, with the church, I'm either in or out. (Link to post.) I half expected for someone (a TBM troll) to comment, "If you're out, why did you still post about it every day? Aren't you still entrenched in it?" I've already posted about why I don't just leave it alone (link to post, scroll down) and why I'm blogging (link to post), but I think I have something different to say.

I'm out of the church, so why am I not out of blogging about it? To answer, let me define that "it." "It," that broad subject that encompasses everything I write about, is not the "Mormon church," or the "LDS church," or even "Mormonism." Rather, the "it" I write about is "ex-Mormonism," "recovering from Mormonism," "post-Mormonism," "what it's like to be a former Mormon, "and "my experience in and impressions of the LDS church and Mormonism, looking back at it from the point of view of an ex-Mormon."

Subtle difference? Not to me.

An ex-Mormon writing about Mormonism and an ex-Mormon writing about ex-Mormonism are very different things. You can find ex-Mormons writing about Mormonism in pro-Mormon forums, such as By Common Consent, Times and Seasons, Feminist Mormon Housewives, Sunstone, etc. From what I've seen (and I haven't seen much), some ex-Mormons will generally write in such a way that faithful Mormons wouldn't be able to identify them, or at least wouldn't be too alarmed by what they say. (I could only identify them because I know them from other venues.) They'll discuss things that aren't discussed in church, to be sure, but they talk about doctrine and issues from within the Mormon paradigm, even while they actually operate outside of it. It's an amazing talent, and it takes a certain level of "I've gotten over it" post-Mormon-ness, rather than "I'm still angry" ex-Mormon-ness.

Some would say it takes a lot of equivocating, and maybe some dishonesty. But I don't think so. It's possible to talk about fictional characters as if they existed, for example, while knowing all the while they are fictional. In fact, I would list that as a indication of well-developed characters and setting. Kudos to the author. So why not talk about Nephi, Adam, Moroni, along with Harry, Aragorn, or Mrs. Dalloway? (Not to say Nephi is a well-developed character, but you get my point, right?)

But I'm not there yet. I can't talk from within the Mormon paradigm. But I hope to be able to someday. And though I doubt I'll ever get into the Bloggernacle, I would like to be able to discuss things religious with my family and not have every word I say scream, "I'm not Mormon anymore!" Because while I'm not Mormon anymore (I could write a whole 'nother post about whether or not I am), it's conducive to productive discussion with Mormons to speak from within the paradigm.

But for this blog, I'm not trying to speak from within the Mormon paradigm. I'm trying to look back at the Mormon paradigm from the outside, from a new paradigm, and analyze who I was then and who I am now, and how I became that way.

(And why do I spend so much time defending myself?)

in or out

I know that a lot of people operate effectively in a liminal state with the church for various reasons, but for me, my personality, I’m either in or out. The transition from in to out was quite short for me. Once I stopped believing, I only attended a couple times.

So when I was in, I was in. I had a temple recommend, I read the Book of Mormon, I attended church weekly, I followed the word of wisdom. I didn’t let that stuff go until I was a non-believer. Sure, some things decreased in the months before. I didn’t read scriptures every day; I only went to the temple for weddings; I watched rated-R movies that I thought were worth my time.

The things that most obviously and significantly mark a believer from a non-believer happen to be the most superficial, too. Garment-non-safe clothes, alcohol, coffee. Those are the things I only tried as a non-believer. I’m not trying to be self-righteous about it. I’m just saying it to show how utterly indoctrinated I was, and how completely warped the church’s priorities are. The mental block against questioning the authenticity of the church’s origin claims was weaker than the mental block against questioning “alcohol is evil.”

Hello?

why don't I stay and try to change the church?

The same friend who asked me why I don't leave church issues alone also asked me why I don't stay and try to positively change the church from within. My reply:

Any impact I could make would be very small, and only at the local level. Knowing we'll move around doesn't help us want to invest a lot into a ward only to leave it. I've never really been highly invested socially in any ward; I went because that was where I was supposed to go, not because I liked that particular community. And people don't listen. People don't go to the Mormon church to have doubts and questions thrown at them; they go for reassurance and easy answers.

To stay and work from within would require being a wolf in sheep's clothing. I'd have to make waves, but only small enough to hardly be felt so I don't get rooted out as a heretic. To have a bigger impact, I'd have to be in a leadership position (most of which are barred to me personally as a woman), but I'd really have to hide and pretend in order to achieve that position. I'd have to fake it really well, get a high position, then come out of my unbeliever's closet--causing me to loose the position, and compromise my integrity in the process. The hierarchy is set up so that changes are top-down. There are rare exceptions, i.e., when it was obvious lots of people were using birth control, the brethren cooled down about saying how evil it was; the policy change to let people have their names removed came after a lawsuit from a man who would not accept excommunication as his only way out. But mostly there is nothing I can do.

In the end of our “activity,” attendance actually made me physically ill. Nearly everything I heard make me think, “I can’t believe he/she just said that!…I don’t belong here….I don’t agree with that….That’s some serious compartmentalizing on his part.” I’d have to put up with a whole lot to stay.

Do you think people haven't tried changing the church, and have given up for many valid reasons? I desperately wanted to stay in order to help. I saw a "brain drain" where all the people actually educated about the church were leaving, so how could we ever improve it? For some people it's not worth the fight; there is just too much baggage and too much compromise of integrity and conscience to stay and support such an institution. The church just doesn't allow for a grassroots approach; it quashes "arc-steadiers," it excommunicates; it correlates.

Perhaps the very biggest reason was my child (and any future children). We just didn’t want him to be raised Mormon like we were. Getting out gives him a better chance at life. If we decide to take him to a Sunday school, it will be where he can learn love, friendship, justice, the marvels of the world, how to ask questions, how to make decisions for himself, how to define morality and make moral decisions, how to define and find his own spiritual (or non-spiritual) path, and how to help others.

We don’t want him learning obedience to authority is the first law of heaven; that people who ask questions and follow their own paths are bad; that Bible stories are literal despite major scientific and common sense knowledge to the contrary; that boys can be leaders and girls can’t; that his role in life is to bring in enough money to support his family, even if it means neglecting them; that there is a checklist for salvation; that some people (however good) are not “good enough” to see their children or siblings get married; that personal relationships are of secondary importance to church; that there is only one right way to worship; that everyone who doesn’t worship that way is wrong, misguided, or even bad; that helping others means bearing his testimony and bringing them cookies, etc. I could go on.

Being outside, I am more free to talk and say what’s on my mind, without fear of reprisal. I am free to be myself, and to find myself.

exit story 11: the last time

The final moment came when I finally visited another church. I had gone to the Mormon service, listened to one talk, but found myself migrating to the hallway to avoid the banal sacrament meeting. I found my husband out there too.

I thought, this is silly. He’s only coming, playing the NOM (faithful non-believing) role, just because I am coming, also as a NOM. A lot of NOMs remain NOM simply because their spouse is faithful. But both of us were non-believers. Why was I there?

I said, “We still have time to catch a UU meeting, it starts at 11:15.” So we went. It was really the first time I had ever been to another church’s worship services.

I was amazed. I actually agreed with things the pastor said. It was actually interesting. It was actually relevant. It was actually uplifting, enlightening, and real. I liked it.

How long had it been since I attended a church service I liked? Had I ever?

I thought, Why am I putting up with the Mormon church if there’s so much greater stuff out there?

And I’ve never been back.

exit story 10: switching paradigms

At that point, I was willing to try out other religions, but still try to evaluate the church at the same time. I had been missing church maybe 2 weeks out of 4 for the past few months, for various excuses.

In the month after I crossed my threshold, I felt liberated sometimes, and damned sometimes. I took off my garments, put them on again, and took them off again. I was panicked that I was making the wrong choice, thought I was definitely going to hell, then calm and at peace. At one moment I thought I hadn’t given the church a good chance, then I was ready to wash my hands of it and all its crap the next.

I concluded that no church was the True Church of God, that all were manmade (with a few women-made ones in there), and that that was okay. Religion wasn’t about being the True Word of God, but was about enlightenment, goodness, social change, worship, inspiration, devotion. I realized Truth was not the yard stick by which to measure religion, and feelings were not the unit by which to evaluate veracity. Even though I believed it was not true, I still had to go through a process of evaluating it on another yard stick—goodness.

All the issues that I had before—and the stuff I chalked up to be culture, or practice, or the imperfections of the members—came back. I disagreed with stances on women, on homosexuals, on race, on worship, on history. I disagreed with how they taught youth, on the demand for conformity, on the demand to deny all doubt, on the micromanaging of people’s lives, on the hours and money wasted on temple work.

If it's the True Church of God, why doesn't it help people in need with homeless shelters, soup kitchens, humanitarian aid that works, and changing society for the better? If Hinckley is really a prophet, why is the best he can come up with is build more temples to waste more of the members time on dead people's names, and to tell girls not to wear 4 earrings? If the church is teaching the Word of God, why does it seem so inane?

So I went to church, but felt physically ill while there. I disagreed with nearly everything said over the pulpit. I looked around at the members, and the only kinship I felt was with ones who were non-believers. Was this my community? Was this worth staying for?

exit story 9: to NOM or not to NOM

Finally I had come to a point where I didn't believe in the church's claims. But I still desperately wanted to believe. I spent a few weeks in an awful back-and-forth struggle trying to decide if I could be NOM--a faithful non-believer. Couldn't I still stay in the church, play the game, be dedicated to the community, keep my parents happy? Not divorce myself from my family and spiritual heritage? Couldn't I just rebuild the building that had crumbled around me, altered, but still Mormon?

I started to evaluate Mormonism from a non-believer's perspective, a religion like any other religion. It had its rituals, its doctrine, its rites of passage, its leadership, etc. Was is so bad to take part?

I went through a series of questions. One had to do with missions. At one point (perhaps it was before I stopped believing completely?) I asked my husband, "Would it be so bad if we continued on? Send our son on a mission, viewing it as a rite of passage, simply so he won't be shunned by the community?" I had never gone on a mission myself.

He answered, "Yes. It would be so bad. Do you have any idea what a mission does to a person? That is the worst possible rite of passage one could possibly go through. It's not worth putting him through that." I imagine he would have called his mission experience a mind rape.

And I knew he was right. I just couldn't put my son through a mission just for the sake of "keeping up appearances." More than that, I couldn't put him through a Mormon childhood at all. From nursery on, the church is indoctrinating children, crunching them into moulds, whether they fit or not. For a few youth, it works. For others, they bend, but their selves are destroyed in the process. Others simply rebel. I couldn't put my child through this. Some churches actually support individual spiritual growth; the Mormon one damages it.