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MORMONS IN TRANSITION
Sample Chapter

Needs Unmet by Mormonism
Doubts from attendance in the LDS church and the consequences of having those doubts often led to basic needs being left unmet. These and
additional unmet needs can be categorized as intellectual, spiritual and emotional, and beyond those to include the need to belong and the need to trust.

Many of the people I interviewed first doubted the LDS church because it failed to meet their basic needs. This is not for want of effort on the part of the church. For the LDS church honestly attempts to meet all of its members' needs. According to former Mormon author Janis Hutchinson, the church offers "classes in world cultures, music, homemaking, scouting,
parenthood, service projects, morality, work ethics, speech, literature, drama, selfimprovement, goal-setting–all effectively designed for the spiritual, physical, moral, intellectual, and emotional growth of its members." For many members, however, the effort fails

The LDS church, also, claims a miraculous beginning, based upon the visions of a young prophet who is led by heavenly visitors to golden plates buried in New York, which he translates through the divine assistance of "seer stones." The plates themselves are the text of The Book of Mormon, the word of God, a history of descendants of Abraham in the New World.

To doubt any of this construct--the visits of the heavenly personages, the existence of the plates, the nature of the translating, and the validity of the text itself--casts doubt on all of it--the status of Joseph Smith as prophet and the truth of the scriptures, doctrine, and practices of the church. Joseph Smith is either a prophet or a charlatan; the scriptures are either the divine word of God or the inventions of an imposter.

And members do get the impression that they must take it all or leave it all. If they hold this absolute position, a doubt in any one area can often cause a complete meltdown in all areas–rejection of all beliefs. And this absolutism combines with the authoritarian nature of church doctrine and structure to compound the pressure on the membership. The General Authorities of the LDS church are viewed by members as acting in God's stead, and when a member is called by an authority for a position of leadership, he or she assumes that the call is from God. Coupled with the belief that God doesn't make mistakes, a member can have a crisis of faith even when one Sunday School teacher or a speaker delivering a sermon at a meeting is found wanting.

At an editorial conference about this book my brother (now a disfellowshipped member of the LDS church) shared this story:

When I was twelve or thirteen, a speaker at sacrament meeting [worship service] was delivering a sermon about apostasy. I got the impression from his sermon that apostates were anathema to God and would be rejected by God for the blessings of the afterlife. And from his description I also concluded that my parents, both inactive Mormons at that time, were themselves apostates. I was devastated. I felt that I was being forced to choose between my parents, whom
I loved, and my religion. I believed that I was sent to church because I was supposed to believe what I was taught there. We were Mormons and believed in Mormonism. That message had always been consistent and compelling. So when I discovered that my parents must be apostates and I wouldn't see them in heaven, I was torn in half.

Fortunately, when I got home from church my mother saw how distressed I was and asked me what was wrong. When I told her, she simply said, "You don't have to believe everything you hear at church." At that moment, irrevocably, my choice was made. I chose loyalty to my parents over loyalty to the church. I didn't clearly see it at the time, but I can see now that I simply ceased belief. At that moment I became merely a social Mormon.

And for many other former Mormons, a single crack--a conflict of interpretation, an unmet need, a nagging doubt--can lead to crisis. While in my research I did not ask a question about needs unmet by the LDS church, as I went over the transcribed interviews, I noticed
patterns. Many people just spontaneously shared their unmet needs as the foundation of their questioning the LDS faith.

My intention in quoting from these interviews is neither to confirm or agree with the observations of the respondents, but to record and describe their experience in a context that can make their transition from the LDS church understandable.

Intellectual Needs
Freedom to Question and to Have Those Questions Answered

Tim

Tim is an intense and dedicated thirty-one year old. He was raised in
Provo, Utah, and was a truth-seeking Mormon for nineteen or twenty years. He is married and has two young boys.

Tim describes himself as an armchair theologian. He volunteers one day a week at a Christian book store in Provo, where he is surrounded by the writings of the Christian masters. I met Tim in a New Testament Greek class in which he excelled. Tim has expressed a desire to do missionary work.

Tim Schmall had a natural sense of the one and only sovereign God. He recalls at less than the age of twelve, "being told that the God whom [they] had, according to LDS theology, is one of many gods." Tim wrestled with this concept, then asked, "Who's the number one
God?" The answer he recalls receiving was, "We don't know, so we don't ask," or "There isn't a number one, and if there is, it doesn't matter. We don't have anything to do with him." Tim remembers being "really distraught and disappointed about it." He recalls "going home and being afraid and upset and getting down on my knees to pray, sneaking a prayer: 'This prayer is to the number one God. I wish you could be my God.'"

Lynda Cooley, a Masters level public school teacher who left active participation in the LDS church by the age of thirteen, had problems with unanswered questions. In spite of doctrinal admonitions to the contrary, Mormon culture expects 'blind faith' of its members. Since women are ineligible for positions of authority (only men hold the priesthood, the source of LDS authority), they, in particular, are not encouraged to ask questions. This leaves bright women with many unanswered questions. As Lynda commented, "I can't remember exactly when it started, but it was pretty early. If I asked too many questions, they would reprimand me for it."

Christine Campbell, a Ph.D. psychologist, noted, "I was afraid to ask questions." Brittany, a bright woman twenty years Christine's junior, was not afraid to ask, but received the admonition that "I would be condemned for not having faith–not having blind faith."2 Both are
struggling to make a rather recent adjustment to new churches.

But it was not just women who were admonished against questioning doctrine. Bryan Ohlson, the former president of his high school debate team, was left with his intellectual curiosity unsatisfied. He said, "I had lists of question after question that I asked to people in authority." He was very disappointed with the responses he got of the "Well, that just wasn't for man to know" genre.

Ross Anderson, currently an Evangelical Free pastor, who at the time of his questioning the LDS church lived in California, observed what happened when he was trying to convert a traditional Christian girlfriend to the LDS church. They met with local LDS missionaries. "My girlfriend had answers to all the missionaries' questions. They didn't have answers to all hers." Ross was unsatisfied because his church did not have the best and final answer to all theological questions.

Resolving of Historical Inconsistencies

Russ

Russ is a thirty-seven-year-old Mormon history buff. He has lived and researched in Utah and the Midwestern site of the home of the Reorganized Latter Day Saint church, as well a having lived in California. He is unmarried. His love of history led him not only to research the Mormon archives and other early documents, but also to speak publicly about what he found. He was excommunicated from the LDS church six years ago in California. Music plays a big part in Russ's life and in his love of things religious. An organ player led him to his current church, which He attended for several years before accepting baptism. Russ needed to resolve historical issues.

Russ Lane had lived in Iowa and was familiar with the practices of the Reorganized LDS church (RLDS). He tried to reconcile the differences between the LDS and Reorganized LDS doctrines because both churches were based on the same original scriptures. This put him on the path of historical investigation. He followed this intellectual quest upon his return to Salt Lake. He took courses at the LDS Institute of Religion (theological training centers near universities and colleges in areas with a large concentration of Mormons) and eventually found
himself doing research in the LDS Church Historian's office. As he said, "the historical thing was very interesting for me. That's what I focused on." In the end, he could not reconcile the deception by a con man, Mark Hoffman, who had sold fake documents to church authorities, "If they [church authorities] are truly inspired, how come they aren't open to the inspiration to know that these were deceptions?" His lament was, "They spent my tithing money buying
these documents."

At the time of the Mark Hoffman events, University of Utah philosophy professor Sterling M. McMurrin, a faithful Mormon on his own terms, said, "We are going through a stage of indoctrination in the church that robs the individual of intellectual freedom." He continued, "To a remarkable degree the church has concealed much of its history from its people, while at the same time causing them to tie their religious faith to its own controlled interpretation of its history."

With alarm and amazement, McMurrin contended that church leaders such as Boyd K. Packer, 'regard genuine honest church history as dangerous to the faith.'

Richard (pseudonym)

Richard is a businessman in his late forties who is not a native of Salt Lake. He was raised in the LDS mission field in California and the Midwest. His leadership roles in the LDS church began when he was President of his Deacons Quorum. He says, "I was in bishoprics and stake [one level above
the ward] high councils before I had even turned thirty, married in the temple, went to BYU, pretty orthodox." He attained an advanced degree from the University of Utah.
Richard's study to strengthen his knowledge about and belief in the LDS gospel led to his becoming a "reform-minded" member. He "has spent the last twenty years involved in LDS periodical publishing, [both] editing and writing; and also in a variety of independent periodical and book publishing companies." He and his wife are now separated. Richard describes himself as a secular humanist.

Richard, too, had problems reconciling the Mormon history. As he says, "I was a debater all through school. I had intellectual friends who were not Mormon. . . . I came to determine that the church was not what it had represented itself to be in categories like its history, its manipulation of its history, its rewriting of its history."

Spiritual Needs
Alan, who asked to be identified by first name only, professes to be a committed, albeit non-attending, Mormon. He began attending a Sunday night religious service held by a group of questioning or reform-minded Mormons when church sponsored activities failed to meet his needs. As he says, "I was always hungry for spiritual involvement or contact that I didn't feel like I was getting necessarily in the church involvement I had. . . . Maybe it was because there
wasn't enough time to develop a conversation in a Sunday school class. You didn't feel as free to talk about things really personal, or there may have been an element of fear that trespassing on someone else's perceptions wasn't appropriate."

Among Mormons, a scripture frequently cited is, "Be ye therefore perfect, as your Father in Heaven is perfect" (Mt 5:48, KJV). In the minds of many Mormons, this admonition allows no room for error.

Two former Mormon women spoke of carrying the burden of living in a legalistic culture. Tawna Robinson said that she didn't begin questioning the church until after [she] had received the Lord. "I never questioned the church, but my ability to live up to the rules. What I
was seeking was a relationship with God. I just kept trying to do the rules as best I could, and I remember being very depressed and trying harder."

Brittany, too, struggled with her imperfection at keeping the commandments. She struggled to gain a testimony of the truth of the LDS gospel. "I had to live a perfect, perfect life. If my mind would wander at all in church I would pray for forgiveness. I did it all–and I
didn't have a testimony. I knew there was a God, but I didn't have this burning in the bosom."

Pastor Ross, too, doubted himself and not the LDS church. His older brother was on a mission in a very primitive area. He, of course, was expected to go on a mission two years hence, and he wondered to himself, "Do I have a strong enough conviction and believe this enough to go into those circumstances?" He felt that his security in the LDS church was threatened by his asking that question. This is understandable in the light of the "all or nothing" way that the church is viewed by many members.

Emotional Needs
The respondents also discussed emotional needs that were not acknowledged, in or by the church. Niki Payne, a convert to the LDS church in her teens, spoke about her internal journey away from the LDS church: It "began with disillusionment about the goodness of the
church. I began to struggle with depression in about 1975. The church didn't seem to accommodate my needs, nor did it respond to my needs."

Psychologist Christine, for example, could only refer to feelings of discomfort, "just not feeling good." All she knew was that she started feeling uncomfortable in church when she was in high school. Nevertheless, she went to college at Brigham Young University, but found the new freedom of being away from her parents gave her an opportunity to skip church. She found that she "felt better not going than going." Because the Mormon church uses the language of feeling, there is always an expectation that "feeling" needs will be met, and it can be a shock when they are not.

Cindy Lou

Cindy Lou is a thirty-four-year old mother of three who is now remarried to a Christian engineer/theology student. She was a Mormon "star" until she found out that she was a secondclass Mormon, being required to do what her then husband said. The conflicts they were having led her to leave the marriage, the church, and the culture. Cindy is not afraid to take strong stands both in her life and her religion.

Cindy Lou Blackmon speaks about having needs met and then having that fulfillment withdrawn. She got her self-esteem through being a "star" in the church, knowing the Book of Mormon inside and out, witnessing to every non-Mormon she met, bearing a moving and
powerful testimony. On the first Sunday of every month, the Mormon sacrament meeting (worship service) is designated Testimony meeting. Members are invited to proclaim their belief in Joseph Smith, the current prophet, the Book of Mormon, and whatever other personal witness might be "felt" appropriate. This is called "bearing your testimony." It is a good opportunity to train the young, who are coached to repeat the words of their parents, "I believe that Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God. . . ." When she began to have problems in her marriage and asked to meet with the bishop (a lay pastor equivalent, called to serve for five to six years), she got a surprise. She discovered she was a "second class Mormon" because she was not a male. (All authority in the LDS church is passed down through a chain of a male hierarchy. Only men hold the priesthood. Women gain their place in the eternal progression through their marriage to a man.) The bishop spoke about her husband: "He has a special anointing from God and you have to listen to him." Cindy Lou was devastated, "I began to hate the arrogance I thought I saw in most Mormon men."

The Need to Trust

Will McGarvey, currently a Presbyterian youth minister, mentioned having his security threatened by what he perceived of as problems with the "divine inspiration" of the authorities of the church. His mission call, a supposedly divinely inspired call issued by a letter from the LDS church president, was originally for Jamaica. He "couldn't get a visa to go there" and he was recalled to Maine. This caused his first doubts of the inspiration by God of the church authorities.

The Need to Belong

The parents of my cousin, Alyce Covey, seldom attended church services. Though not a member of the church, her father cooked special dinners for the congregation. Alyce reported a humiliating incident when she was about ten or eleven, "In a Sunday School class,
when one of the [teacher's hypothetical] questions was, 'You are going to have house guests. They are used to having coffee for breakfast. Are you going to serve it? Those of you who would serve it, raise your hand.' I happily raised my hand and looked around and no one else
had raised their hand." Alyce reported being humiliated. And what made the humiliation worse was that she was then verbally demeaned by the teacher for the choice she had made.

Always the seeker, Karen's doubts were kindled a little earlier, at the time of her baptism, but they were not initially recognized as doubts about the church. They were doubts about herself. In the weekday classes held for children of grammar school age, her teacher had said, "If you [are] very holy and very special, it [is] not uncommon to see an angel inside the room" in which the baptism took place. Karen was deeply disappointed when she did not see that angel as she came out of the water.

As she reports, "I kept wondering what happened, why I didn't feel special or anything. I thought something was just very, very dysfunctional with me because it didn't take. . . . I wanted to discover what was missing in both me and the church. . . . Why don't I fit? Maybe I don't believe strongly enough. Maybe I'm not praying right." This kind of thinking is a heavy burden for a child of eight.

These events described by the respondents may appear inconsequential out of context. We all have unmet needs; we all suffer humiliations in childhood. But for a member of an organization that claims to be the sole agent of God's truth and complete answer to its
members' needs, an otherwise small event can have life-changing consequences.

During our interview, I talked with Karen about the three categories of needs I had observed unmet--intellectual, emotional, and spiritual. She suggests that if one is wounded in one area, one will look to the other areas for healing. If in that search further wounding occurs,
it sets us up to leave the church and seek healing elsewhere.

In the next chapter, I record the respondents' continuing process of investigation, their looking for healing and coming up empty. First, however, I need to include Wayne's experience. He is an exception to the usual process of discovering unmet needs in the process of leaving the LDS church.

Wayne (a pseudonym)
Wayne is a sixty-seven-year old retired university professor and
musician, active in music circles in his community. He has eight children, six of whom have completed LDS missions. He reports a sudden conversion out of Mormonism at the age of forty-five. He had done no serious questioning prior to that point.

While answering questions honestly, Wayne is circumspect about having left the Mormon church. He still attends, occasionally, to please his wife. He reported that he had heard that his former Stake President had issued an order that he "was not to have a forum at the church," to teach a class or speak at meetings.

As he reported: "I had no dissatisfaction at all with my life in the church. Everything was going along beautifully. At the age of forty-five I had eight children, a good profession, and was a member of the general board of Mutual Improvement Association, an LDS church
youth auxiliary. I found the association and work totally delightful in every respect. I had no reason whatever to want to change anything. Our family life was church centered."

Wayne went on to describe the circumstances surrounding his "conversion" event: "It really goes back to the Mormon idea that church members should seek revelatory experiences to confirm this or that aspect of their spiritual life. . . . In a susceptible moment of grace
perhaps, I made a commitment that I would act upon what I perceived to be the whisperings of the Holy Ghost and I would accept the consequences. In the next moment, everything had changed. I shed very quickly most of what had been my Mormon costume. . . . Overnight, the church lost its power over me."

This loss was, using Karen's metaphor, Wayne's spiritual wound. It led him on a search to heal that wound, "intense religious practice, mostly reading, meditation and stuff like that." He reported that it took several months before he "had the courage to share this" lifechanging
experience with anybody. Wayne obviously did not move from a sense of unmet needs. But most of the respondents quoted in this chapter, responded to a keen sense of need--intellectual, spiritual, or emotional--that led them toward action.

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