Us Versus Them

The last few days have had turmoil. Brother set against brother, kind of turmoil. Bible versus flung back and forth, justifications and accusations, with rebuttals and more justifications. It's the news that broke as a whistleblower reported that the Church has $100 Billion dollars it's been sitting on, either legally or illegally un-taxed is still up for debate. It's been a grand old time for a fence sitter.

Why do I call myself a fence sitter? Because I am. On most issues, generally, I am. This happens because I believe that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the church that God is choosing to work with at this time, in restoring doctrines and principles to bring souls back to God. I believe this because of spiritual direction. No facts or figures to prove it. Just feelings.

But I'm also well-versed in those facts and figures. I know the darkest pits of our Church's history and present. I've made it a point to know, again, because I have felt those spiritual promptings and direction TO know. Learn everything I can. There have been moments where I have fallen to my knees in tears and pleaded with the Lord to help me. "God, I feel like I know too much to ever be happy again! Am I wrong? What can I do to feel peace about this?" God quietly, lovingly directed me to stand back up, pick up that history book, and keep reading. Because what God wants me to do isn't slide happily through life. What God wants me to do is have knowledge. God wants me to know the good from the evil, with all the joy and pain and grey area that accompanies it.

So here I am, playing referee to both sides, trying to take a stand for truth where I see it.

It's messy. It's super, super messy. Made messier by the fact that I'm not supremely eloquent. Made messier by the fact that I am a red personality type who doesn't run from fights, and can often let my emotions and anger get the better of me. I speak when, as Christ taught, sometime's it's smarter to say nothing and doodle on the ground instead. I'm still trying to figure out that lesson. So I'm sorry. And forgive me. Chances are, you're a red personality type too, and we're both trying to figure out this "peacemaker" quality together, am I right? Friends?

I said I have anger. Why is that? Because I have a fundamental human need to feel like I belong, and it's not being met. At church on Sunday, someone made a comment along the lines of feeling so sorry for those who question the church, because they don't know anything, and they've lost everything. It's very lonely to have someone say that.

Why? Because the implication is that I am dumber then them. The implication is that I am pitiful, someone to be felt sorry for, and potentially, that I have no reason to live. Frankly, I didn't feel like I deserved any of that. I think I'm pretty smart, I think I have a pretty great life, and I think that God and I are both pretty proud of me for being a good listener to divine instruction, and for doing what I feel is right. Again, I can't prove that to you, it's just the spiritual directions and feelings I've been given.

I cannot prove to you that God loves me. I cannot prove to you what God tells me. I cannot pull out a whiteboard and sketch out a lifetime's worth of promptings and directions, and present a numerical value or percentage on just how "right" I am, or how "on the path" I am. My salvation is between me and God. But I know where I am, and I know how I feel. And right now, I'm in the right place and doing well. (Still working on that anger thing, and speaking without thinking, along with pride and a couple other sins like sugar, eye-rolling, and catastrophizing.)

I know I'm not the only person who has felt this way. I know I'm not the only person who has felt lonely this way because I talk to a lot of people in a lot of different places inside of the Church. Because, contrary to popular belief, the Church is not a "You're in or you're out," kind of place. That's black and white thinking, and is not actually how God works. God doesn't consider us as boxes to be checked, dates to be entered for a particular ordinance, etc. It's not so simple. (Unless you're dead, in which case, it is that simple in the temple. Though I'm certain it's not so black and white on the other side of the veil.)

There are so many places a person can be, in the Church. You can be a TBM - or Traditional Believing Mormon - someone who accepts everything: history, doctrine and all. A TBM strives to check all the worthiness boxes, and meet and follow all the outlined goals. You can be a Questioner, like myself - someone who looks at what is taught and has questions through all of it, judging the fallibility of doctrines, histories, and practices.  A Questioner strives to find and act on the truth, even if it disagrees with the authority. You can be a Doubter - someone who doesn't believe in the history of the Church, or any of it's authoritative claims.

Any given Sunday, all three types of Mormons are present in your meetings. (Yes, I said "Mormons." How very Questioner of me.) I would argue there are a TON of them present, mostly Questioners. Questioners are the ones who keep saying "Mormon." They're the ones that don't believe Polygamy was ever divinely inspired, for whatever reason. They're the ones who argue and debate that science has found nothing wrong with tea, or that a glass of wine has been proven to assist in heart health. They're THAT guy. Yep, sometimes they're annoying. But most of the time they look just like the rest of you, and the only difference is what's in their head.

Are there really Doubters at church, you might ask? Absolutely. They're the people that attend church with their families because "that's what you do," or because they or someone else in the family has a calling, and they don't want to be an embarrassment to themselves or others. They attend because they like the social aspects, basic morality, and have friends. They attend because they are afraid that if they leave, somehow their lives will suffer or fall apart, and their kids will turn into prostitutes and drug dealers. Because that's what happens when you leave the church. That's just a fact. Or perhaps they are afraid of what others will think, and how others will treat them.

Surely Mormons wouldn't treat them differently! Right? Surely Mormons wouldn't think ill of people who choose not to belong to the church anymore, right?

Wrong. Dead wrong.

I'm a Questioner and a fence-sitter by definition because of it, and I have friends in both worlds. Saying there is pain is an understatement. As one friend put it:

"I think leaving the church there’s a lot of grief and hurt involved. On the one hand you’re dealing with the grief of losing your faith, or feeling conned, or feeling like your life’s been a lie, and that comes with a lot of hurt. But then there’s the secondary aspect of how people are treating you, and misunderstanding you, and judging you. And it can be really really upsetting, and cause a lot of anger to come out. I think that’s why you see some of that from the ex-Mormon community. It’s because they’re hurting. I think both sides are hurting."

This friend told me that I was the only person that reached out to them after they left the church. I was the only one willing to sit down with them and listen to their story, their experience, and what they went through to get where they are today.

Perhaps because we're afraid. It's very easy to imagine that people who leave the church leave because they learned "the secret," that, if spoken, would wipe out all of Mormon civilization. Members would drop like flies into the void and abyss called "Faithless." We'd all die. The end. Chaotic, existential nihilism. We talked about it like that on my mission. "They got 'anti-ed.'"

It's not so simple. From the many people I know who have left the church, their experiences are all different. Some have felt God direct them in it, giving them promptings that they would learn more about God and be happier if they left. Others leave because they hear nothing - no revelation or answers from God at all about any of it.

Certainly there are those who leave because of history. That does happen. I know those people too. But there are plenty more who stay despite knowing the history, myself included. 

Why do we treat those who don't believe like us differently? Why do we judge them? How do we misunderstand them? What is the solution to this? How can we help everyone feel that they belong?

Friends that I have talked to have different opinions, and I have my own. My opinion as that Mormons tend to see themselves as "Us," and those who don't believe in the Church as "Them."

It's very easy to do. Sometimes broad stereotypes like this are very helpful. Team sports? Definitely helpful to have an "us" vs "them," mentality, if the objective of the game is to win. I fear, however, that the Church has created a culture that has this same perspective. For us, winning is having the "true doctrines," or the "authority." In our minds, these things are necessary to get back to heaven through that straight and narrow way, without falling into the darkness or Great and Spacious building.

I argue, that the rod in our imagery is The Word of God. It's the Scriptures. It's revelation. It's what leads us to Christ. That was the missionary objective - Invite others to come unto Christ. I have at least two friends who have left the church who speak fondly of memories of their mission - not because of bringing people into the church, but because of the experiences they had of bringing others closer to God, and Christ. They still feel the truth and goodness of that experience, as not believing in the authority of the Church has done nothing to their relationship and faith in God.

I know. I can feel it. You're raising that index finger and pointedly trying to find the right opening in which you can remind me that we DO believe in authority. Can I address this concern? That finger? Yes, that index finger and the attitude of raising it in correction before I've even finished what I'm saying is the concern, and is often the concern of those who Question or Doubt.

In college the book The Lost Art of Listening was a required text for us social workers. Listening is vital, if you're going to be in a helping profession. It's something most people don't know how to do. We listen until we hear the bit that speaks to us, or that we want to respond to, and we start trying to fix the problem, without hearing the end of it.

I went to the InstaCare a couple weeks ago. My left arm felt WRONG. It felt tingly, and I was scared, frankly, that I was having a heart attack at the ripe old age of thirty. Yep. Thirty. That was how it was going to end - two small toddlers, and I was gonna die before I even finished potty training. I had some reasonable doubts about this, however, as I'd had a similar feeling in the past, which had gone away eventually, but I still had just enough worry to get it checked out. I went in, and explained my symptoms. My left arm felt WEIRD, and my heart was pounding. (I was nervous.) The assistant was raising a nervous eyebrow as she took my vitals, until finally, she deduced, I likely wasn't having a heart attack. Turns out, I'd slept on a new pillow funny, and was having some compression in my neck on the nerves to my arm. Muscle relaxants and an anti-inflammatory for a week, and I was feeling much better.

I was very grateful that she had listened to me explain, "But I don't think it's a heart attack." She could have simply heard, "Left arm weird." and demand I head to the ER, because they don't take care of heart attacks at the InstaCare. Because she listened to me instead of brushing off my concern as "not her problem," I saved a bunch of money in bills, and got drugs that solved my problem right then and there.

We can do the same for those who differ in their beliefs with the Church. I have heard many, MANY stories by those who, in meetings with leadership or Bishops, express a doubt or a difference of opinion. Without caring to know ANYTHING else about the belief, the situation, the human behind the belief, or the reason, people with differences have been released from callings, threatened with discipline, or outright yelled at.

I posted that article the other day, about the Church and their $100 Billion in savings. In my heart and through my firm belief in Christ and the Bible, I disagree with the Church on this savings, and feel spiritually right in doing so. Frankly, it made me feel some righteous anger, and I posted it without thinking about how it would affect others. (Because I'm brash. Because I'm not perfect. But it's the same weakness ascribed to Joseph Smith Jr, so I'm in good company?)

I was told by many that I couldn't possibly be right for feeling as I do, because, they assured, the answer was found in "trusting the prophet," and "having faith." Another literally just recommended, in harsh terms, "For someone who feels so consistently negative about the church, have you thought about just leaving?"

Does this help me come closer to Christ? No. Does it make me feel like I am welcome at Church? Absolutely no. Because this is what misunderstanding and judging looks like, and it's what those who have different beliefs than Traditional Believing Mormons receive when they state their differences. They have not attempted to listen, or created an environment in which people would even begin to feel comfortable expressing themselves. As a friend with different beliefs in the Church noted:

“People will just tear you apart before they will question the Church, all in the name of love, of course. That's one of the reasons I don't like to say things. Cause people are vicious.

And they’re not going to understand. I don’t expect to be understood.

Mormons expect to be persecuted. They expect people to be constantly searching for corruption, or trying to expose something, and so a lot of times disagreeing plays into the narrative, and only reinforces their beliefs and their sense of “rightness,” because that’s what they expect to happen.

It plays to their expectations, and so they just kind of dismiss you, and write you off as just another grumpy dissenter who lost their way.

It’s just really really hard to get through to people, and help them see outside the box a little bit."

It's important to listen to people. Who are they? Where have they been? Why might they feel the way they feel? Could you ask them about that? Listen, without assuming that what is true or right for you is true or right for everyone. 

Because people disagree. It happens all the time in life, including in the Church. On a LOT of issues. Partly because God works with each of us a little differently, because God knows us! Sometimes because different experiences give different perspectives. Sometimes, people might even disagree on the issue of the Church having authority, which is pretty important for many, and that's okay, BECAUSE JESUS. 

The most beautiful truth I know, not just because I have been told it, but because I have felt it, is that God loves everyone. Everyone. Not just Us. Not NOT Them. Everyone. 

One friend who left the Church told me that after he had made his decision to leave, through much time, prayer, and study, he had a wonderful experience. After making his decision one morning he walked into work, and saw all the people around him. He felt that warm, spiritual confirmation that he and all of his coworkers were the same. All of them. He recognized that while he had been in the Church, he had felt a barrier between him and everyone else. When he left, he realized there had never been a barrier there at all. Because to God, we are all the same.

There's no need to create barriers. In an earlier post I wrote about a dream I was given about a wall, and the interpretation I was given was that as members of the Church we often create a wall between "believers" and everyone else. There is no wall. Our differences are not as big a deal as you feel they might be. The first great commandment is to love God. The second is like unto it. Love your neighbor. All of the law and the prophets hang on these two commandments. If Christ can raise up seed unto Abraham from stones, He can take care of your authority concerns. Have a little faith. You focus on the love bit. 

My wish is that the Church will become a place of love. It's not, for many. For many it's a place of judgement and feeling that they don't belong. There's a reason Alma encouraged his priests to preach nothing save it were repentance and faith on the Lord. (Mosiah 18:20) Because we can all do better, and with Christ, everyone belongs.

We need to watch the judgments we make either out-loud, or privately in our hearts. We need to make sure that we are listening to people that we disagree with, and providing a little room for empathy, love, and understanding, even if you'll never agree. Learn to view yourself as a child of God, literally just like everyone else. Make your love unconditional. Give it freely.