Don’t let the title deceive you. This isn’t happening.
But it did for one day.
A couple weeks ago I kept having this nagging “prompting.” That’s the Mormon word for it, and I’m happy to use that word. After all, I still believe in a higher intelligence that is happy to communicate.
So, I kept feeling prompted to go to church.
As an ex-Mormon, this was troubling.
FIRST, I felt prompted to leave the Mormon church, too.
SECOND, I know far too much to ever be happy in a Mormon church ever again.
THIRD, I have very good reasons for keeping my family AWAY from Mormonism.
Why on earth was I feeling prompted, then, to go to church?
Saturday night I confessed my desires to attend church to my husband. As he is ALSO an ex-Mormon, the conversation went something like this:
Me: “I really want to go to church on Sunday.”
Nathan: “Okay, that’s fine.”
Me: “I mean the MORMON church. I want to go to church on Sunday.”
Nathan: *begins sweating intensely, while trying to seem supportive.* “Um… okay. Is that like…”
Me: “I would go by myself. I don’t want my kids anywhere near it.”
Nathan: *visibly relaxes* “Okay. But, why do you want to go?”
Me: “I don’t know. I just really want to.”
I went to bed Saturday feeling pretty certain I would change my mind in the morning. But I woke up bright and early, and still eager. So I put on a dress, and headed out the door.
The last time I was in a church building was in 2020. My husband had told me he didn’t believe anymore, but attended with me and kids anyway. He suffered through priesthood lessons about “unhappy non-believers” - a lesson that seemed catered exclusively to him, as I’d made the mistake of telling the bishop about him mentally stepping away. We made the decision to move just weeks after that. As someone clutching to the church, at that time, having the church disrespect my husband like that made any hope of religious belonging impossible, there. Then Covid hit.
We moved into a new ward during the pandemic, so we never attended church in the building. I zoomed several services, but thanks to distance during the apocalypse, I’d had the break I needed to evaluate my feelings and own personal beliefs. I saw hypocrisy, and after watching zoom church one day where person after person bore their testimony about the BISHOP, I realized I couldn’t do it - not here.
Then, as I said earlier, I had the promptings to leave. The final break was finding I was pregnant with a girl. That was it, then. It was over. For her, I could do it. We resigned. I didn’t want ANY ties between my daughter and the Mormons - not even being a “child of record.”
We moved to Missouri, then, and never attended.
In college, an FHE brother paid me the sincere compliment that, “You don’t ACT like a Utah Mormon.” I’d appreciated it immensely at the time. But I pondered as I was driving to the church, here in Missouri, that I had no idea what to expect. Would these people be completely different than what I typically expected at church?
Pulling into the parking lot, I saw that they weren’t very different at all. Women with perfect long hair. Girls in puffy, sweet dresses. Heels on the moms. Ties on the boys.
All I saw was women trying VERY VERY hard. I put suspenders on my boys, for church, too. I remember that work. And I told myself I was happy, looking prim on Sundays. They were all trying SO hard.
I don’t know how I made it into the church unnoticed. The same familiar scratchy carpet walls. The identical white Jesus paintings in the foyer.
I sat in the overflow, which wasn’t exactly empty, and managed to avoid the missionaries, as they were part of the group passing the sacrament. No one else greeted me. I had a line prepared, and everything. “I’m just here for academic purposes.”
Was it purely academia?
I’d never given Missouri church a chance. But, turned out, Missouri church was still Mormon church.
I wondered why I’d felt prompted to go to church. The first speaker was all the answer I needed.
I needed to attend my Missouri ward to remind myself, and assure potential future me, just how much this place was NOT, nor would it EVER be a refuge for me, or a resource - even just for community.
The entire first talk was devoted to convincing themselves that non-Mormons and ex-Mormons, like myself, will never truly be happy. I took notes:
“Where do our brothers and sisters who do not attend any church find their peace?”
“Peace comes from obedience to the commandments of God, which commandments are not a few.”
“The gift of peace is given after we have the faith to keep His commandments.”
“I think those that don’t attend church abide in a lesser level of peace and community.”
(- Okay, but for the record, that point got me. “A lesser level of community,” is my number one complaint, after leaving Mormonism. But it’s not like the Mormon church is doing anything to fix that - by giving talks and addresses like this, assuring Mormons that exes and nonmembers are unhappy and broken. Then you never have a chance of mutually respectful relationships with the people from your past.)
“A lot of people who are not a part of a Christian community are wracked by guilt.”
“This (peace) is something the secular world can never offer.”
The real kicker was when the speaker took the movie Nacho Libre, and drew a TERRIBLY incorrect conclusion. I know this, because I LOVE Nacho Libre.
The speaker described a conversation Nacho has with Steven, his faithful sidekick. Steven tells Nacho he doesn’t believe in God. He believes in Science. And he doesn’t even like the orphans.
Later in the movie, Steven smiles and says that he feels differently now. He likes the orphans!
At no point does Steven say that he believes in God now. Steven learned to love the orphans without listening to a single sermon about God. But the speaker at church stated that Steven’s turn around was because he came to believe in Jesus.
NOT TRUE.
Fact. Secularists and even atheists can, and DO, love the orphans.
Turns out, the Mormons are alive and well in convincing themselves that everyone who believes differently than them is suffering, and not “really” happy.
Turns out, the Mormons are still fixated on trying to find happiness by earning it, through keeping commandments, rather than doing as the Bible states: “Be still and know that I am God.”
The greatest peace I ever found was when I acknowledged that I am who I am. I am a good person. I was not born in sin. I am not so horrible that I need to be saved from hellfire. I am known for who and what I was made to be and am.
“When we do what we are supposed to do, He [God] is bound as well.”
Mormons have a transactional Jesus - a God that must be bought and manipulated to provide peace, through our good behavior.
After the closing prayer I left before anyone would have the chance to catch me. I left, and went to my favorite coffee shop down the road. I drove home, changed my clothes, and played with my family for the rest of the day.
I didn’t have to ask God for clarification. I got it, and God knew that I got it. We shared in that experience, and the knowing understanding of it, together. It was in the quiet drive, in the open window, in the cake pop I solidly devoured, taking off that dress, and the playful smiles of my children. Even in their grumpy, snotty yelling, too!
All children are like that, after all. ALL of them have good days and bad.
Peace is not a commodity that can be given or earned. Peace is something you can have whenever you choose to have it. Peace is found in stasis, in authenticity, in kindness. Peace is found in any number of ways, and all of those ways are different for different people.
I went to church because God told me to go. Then God reminded me that I never have to go back there again. God is not so small.
