A Stream of Consciousness

At this point in my public life, I’m a sort of vague unassuming lds member. I’ve found that church is a miserable slog through a hell; as the years pass I’ve come to accept Robert Smith’s (of Upward Thought) assessment that the church does more harm than good due to pervasive false traditions. Despite the fatigue I experience through the lds church, I continue to attend. I don’t make ripples because I’ve found it a completely fruitless effort.

I recall an incident that shaped me deeply. During my first year at BYU, I came to the conclusion that the church was not true. I was angry. Tangibly so. One time I was arguing with my mother about some things that Boyd K. Packer said. My final point was basically, “Why can’t Boyd K. Packer just be wrong on this point?” It was frustrating to be arguing with a brick wall – one that placed the scriptures in a subordinate position to tradition. My mother made it clear after my statement that she didn’t want to discuss it any further and the phone call ended.

I felt isolated at BYU. At that moment I felt isolated from my own blood – my family. I realized I was alone. I didn’t just feel alone, I was alone. Emotion and pain consumed me in the seconds after the call ended. I had a total emotional breakdown. I was living in a dorm setting at the time and I quickly scurried to the public restroom as I held back tears. I didn’t want my roommate or anyone to see me so I locked myself in a bathroom stall and cried. It was a pathetic scene. I hate reliving it in writing.

I did come out of that stall comforted. I learned that my reliance had to be on Jesus and “no other name under heaven” (Acts 4:12).

Most other interactions in the church have been similar negative experiences, though not as dramatic. I argue from a fundamentally different perspective than the church accepts as authoritative. The best way I’ve found to articulate the idea is to use a tree as a model: The lds church (an some others) view truth as the fruit of the tree of authority. I believe that authority is the fruit of the tree of truth. The lds church assumes if something stems from proper authority it is true. I assume that whatever is authoritative is derived from truth. “Between us . . . there is a great gulf fixed: so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us, that would come from thence” (Luke 16:26).

My perspective is a difficult one, by what criteria do we discern truth without an “authority”? The other perspective has an answer to that question, therefore it is satisfying to many. I see why it is appealing to adopt; it solves my dilemma and frequent source of pain – searching for truth.

So where is the truth tree?

All this reminds me of an interesting little quote from Joseph Smith: “Had I inspiration, revelation, and lungs to communicate what my soul has contemplated in times past, there is not a soul in this congregation but would go to their homes and shut their mouths in everlasting silence on religion till they had learned something.” (13 Aug 1843)

Apparently, Joseph Smith didn’t think his congregation had learned anything. Also, he seems to indicate that this “learning” was not something that could be communicated person-to-person. It was not obtained in a church, nor a general conference, but at home in silence.

I really ought to learn something about religion. And maybe I should abandon this little stupid blog and seclude myself to monastic vows of silence on religion.

Recently, I’ve become somewhat infatuated with Jordan Peterson. I was watching a video recently where he said something that comes as close to an articulated truth as men can conjure up in language. I jotted it down:

Straighten out what you can straighten out and stop saying things that make you feel weak.”

Over the last eight years (particularly through a crash course of necessity at BYU) I learned to stop saying things that make me feel weak. However, because of that same dogmatic environment I never learned to replace that speaking untruths with truths. I’ve confined myself to “silence on religion“. I can tactfully avoid saying things I disagree with and dance around with my words. I know the church is imperceptive to my lack of affirmation of basic lds doctrines. I was able to serve a 2 year mission and never say any form of “I know Thomas S. Monson is a prophet of God”.

It reminds me of a discussion with a religion professor at BYU, where she talked about how she had to speak the language of her department in graduate school to please them. Her school assumed that there was nothing “true” about the New Testament and treated it through that lens. Her personal opinions and beliefs were divorced from the things she spoke or wrote.

She learned to satisfy their biases. I have done likewise within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Over the last 6 months I have seriously considered giving up on the lds church. I’ve been convinced for a while (say 2013) that I would one day leave. While serving my mission, I had a dream where I was in a church trial for my beliefs. I was excommunicated. I interpreted this as the spirit of prophecy and it brought me peace. No directive has come through inspiration to distance myself from the church. As such I don’t feel at liberty to leave or remove my name from the records of the church. Jesus lived 30 years in a corrupt religious environment and did not make waves until his time had come. But I am tired of waiting.

A few days ago, I was out with the missionaries teaching. Of the three “teachers” I was constantly trying to direct the conversation into the scriptures while the others sort of parroted general mormon doctrines. I don’t much care whether anyone joins the lds church, but my presence is interpreted as supporting the church program. Maybe my “silence” is just as bad as “speaking untruths”, it certainly makes me feel weak.

I remember the frustrations that I felt as a missionary and would like to ease the burdens of the lds missionaries, though we have different yokes. If I were to leave the lds church, I’d be left with no outlet for charity. There is no one in my area who shares my views, who I could fellowship with. In my circumstances leaving doesn’t seem to be a productive route. Like Adam in the garden, I am confused at seemingly contrary directives; I grow restless and desire to take things into my own hands and eat fruit out of season.

Would that the Lord send direction. Maybe I missed it. That thought crosses my mind frequently. I am not who, what, where I could be in some alternate world. I feel like one of my alternate selves stumbled on better choices and has entered the rest of the Lord. But he isn’t me. And for some reason, I am not him. And that “some reason” would be good to know.

Jesus is Lord.

I Am not.

I am a man, and do sin in my wish; for I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me. (Alma 29:3)


Meanwhile on the Bloggernacle

This relates to the prior post.

Around the same time as I saw ‘The Second Comforter‘ in the BYU bookstore, I also ran across Denver Snuffer’s now defunct From the Desk of Denver Snuffer blog. I didn’t realize the author was the same.

I skimmed a bit. I noticed his interpretation of certain things (such as the identity of “the noble and great ones”) didn’t jive with my understanding at the time. He was also far too easy on the LDS church; why should anyone stay in the church and maintain a temple recommend when the church had diverged so far from it’s founding?

My initial judgement was that this guy, Denver Snuffer, was probably full of shit. And so I didn’t continue reading his blog, at least for the time being.

At the BYU Bookstore

During my freshman year at BYU, I was walking through the bookstore on campus. I remember seeing the bookThe Second Comforter‘ by Denver Snuffer on a bookshelf in the religion section.

I went through probably my most severe faith crisis during that year and had determined that the mainstream LDS was in apostasy. At the time I was seriously entertaining fundamentalist LDS claims.

As I read the title and looked at the cover, I was disgusted. I determined the book (like most books in the bookstore) was not worth even a second to consider. I fully believed that it was another presumptuous book written by an LDS author, meant to entice an audience with a now obscure topic, while at the same time dissuading readers from actually believing Joseph Smith. I presumed that it would present the topic, then interject modern quotes about how we should be weary of spiritual experiences and that the second comforter is not something we should actually expect or seek.

A lot has changed since that time. Both at BYU and in my heart.

Personality types and organizations (read: churches)

[Note to my 2.5 readers: I apologize for posting less frequently. That is just an extension of trends in my life; I’m continuing through a bout of depression which has caused me to withdraw from social interactions. At times I wonder if this blog has run it’s course. I have considered reorganizing/reformatting/rewriting the material I’ve written here and making it into a short book. That would be a time-consuming project and I’m not sure I’m willing to sacrifice the time needed. Back to the actual post.]

I recently had a probing interview my bishop. I brought up an idea I was exploring. His reaction was less than supportive. I had been thinking about personality types and the church. The church as an organization cannot appeal to all personality types. For example, people with more introverted or analytical personality types have more trouble fitting in with the larger church.

He acknowledged this problem but indicated that when people (*me*) find dissonance between their personality type and the larger church, they should just confirm to social norms. Don’t cause ripples. Don’t stir the pot. Just do what we tell you. Smile while you do it. The church has no responsibility to care for my needs, no imperative to comfort me when I stand in need of comfort. Discomfort those in need of comfort.

This was one interview in a painful series. This bishop may think he did good. He certainly got the results he wanted: conformity. His intrusion actually caused harm for my relationship with the church. I keep trying to make it work. I keep getting bitch-slapped. Disregarding truth claims, it has been an abusive force in my life for the past 7 years. It has caused me distress.

As I have branched out and attended other gatherings outside of the LDS church, I have noticed similar dissonance between my personality and the larger group. I am not sure my personality lends itself to group worship. That is a sad thought to confront and wrestle with.

Correlative data: https://www.16personalities.com/articles/religion-and-personality-type
Correlative data: https://www.16personalities.com/articles/religion-and-personality-type

A teaching of an angel

Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection—Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life.” (Alma 40)

I have found that we generally distrust this verse, Alma, and the angel that taught this to Alma. I remember this being a point of contention between me and my instructors at the MTC. From their point of view, I should not teach that as soon as we die we are taken home to God, because the presidents of the church have basically said that isn’t right. Take for example Joseph Fielding Smith:

These words of Alma [Alma 40:11–14] as I understand them, do not intend to convey the thought that all spirits go back into the presence of God for an assignment to a place of peace or a place of punishment and before him receive their individual sentence. ‘Taken home to God,’ [compare Ecclesiastes 12:7] simply means that their mortal existence has come to an end, and they have returned to the world of spirits, where they are assigned to a place according to their works with the just or with the unjust, there to await the resurrection.” (Answers to Gospel Questions, comp. Joseph Fielding Smith Jr., 5 vols. [1957–66], 2:85).

From my point of view, I had received a spiritual witness of the Book of Mormon and should therefore honor God by accepting the doctrines taught in the book. To this day, I still cannot understand the rational behind why Joseph Fielding Smith rejected the teachings of this angel recorded in the Book of Mormon. He gives no real explanation (such as a revelation to counter Alma’s). The verse in Ecclesiastes he uses to support is argument actually supports Alma and the angel, if you bother looking it up.

I think it would be best to accept teachings from angels recorded in the Book of Mormon. I trust they are more intimately aware of the logistics of soul-traveling than mortals.

Old-Man Syndrome Poem

A poem, appropriately kitsch –

Of course the divine speaks in rhythmed thought

Painting pictures to create our collective memory.

Maybe poems are not amusements

But mortar and trowel of Gods.


Let me divine that source

Of social media – that thing most

Unlike a society. I think the Apis to our pantheon

Speaking through pixels: “exchange

Needs no coin, only ‘friends’.”


Partake! No less a sacrament

Than any priesthood could devise!

As rituals expand on what God once called “good,”

We must ever be aware of the winds that blow

But never guess from where they came.


Logos, the word, reason:

Once thought an apt description

Of a far better one. Likely within our milieu,

Pandering insipid and vacuous minds,

Would need to be re-ponderized.


I hear familiar words take on

New form: “I am the good emoticon.

I am the light of your smart phone screen.

My followers #sharegoodness by keystrokes typed.”

False Gods seem brighter than what

We do with the Light.