A Brief Introduction
Posted: Sun Nov 06, 2016 10:50 pm
Raised LDS, I served a mission and married my wife in the temple. No kids so far. When I began to learn some surprising new things about the history of the LDS church, I found it at once exciting and disturbing.
Exciting because I'd long enjoyed studying LDS history and doctrine, but I'd reached a point where I didn't expect to come across new things anymore other than minor details. I figured I'd have to be content with mainly reviewing "the basics" for the rest of my life. Learning these new and surprising things brought to my mind an image of being in a room with walls that were suddenly falling away to reveal a landscape that I'd never imagined existed.
Disturbing because I began to see implications. It didn't take long for a faith crisis to become an existential crisis. (I don't like to use the word crisis, as it feels melodramatic in describing my situation.) I've always liked to study philosophy, but my LDS faith had always prevented me from taking some ideas seriously beyond fun thought experiments.
Learning that the foundation of my religious beliefs was not as firm and well-defined as I had thought quickly led me to find other things that were open to questioning. The supernatural events of the Bible, for example. I'd always had the "as far as it is translated correctly" get-out-of-contradiction-free card, but now I found it possible to ask what now seems obvious: what reason do I have to take any of the supernatural claims seriously in the first place? I'd taken many things for granted based on cultural conditioning.
But what's open to questioning doesn't stop with religion. For example: Is there an objective basis for morality? What does it mean to refer to "reality" or "truth?" Does anything have meaning in a cosmic sense? Does it even make sense to think of myself as a self? Not all of these things were entirely new, but I'd never had to (or allowed myself to) truly confront such questions before without a safety net.
The problems of Mormonism quickly became relatively minor details for me. I never had an "angry phase," in part due to my nature and in part because I found it hard to get too worked up about things that make up just the first of many layers of assumptions that I could easily call into question. I can't take issue with those who "choose to believe" in Mormonism or Christianity or whatever. I assume that everyone must stop at one layer or another and stop questioning simply to function in life. And who am I to say that one such stop is better than another?
If there were a prize for taking things slowly, I might be in the running. I'm going on over ten years now. I still attend church (though my wife does not, but that's another story). When I actually sit down in a class or a meeting, however, I find even some of the most basic teachings alien now.
My current approach is more or less that absolutely everything is probably made-up nonsense, and it's up to me to decide what I want to value. Even if it valuing things at all is just piling on more nonsense.
I value the LDS community and the relationships that could be harmed if I were more outspoken with my thoughts. Mormon culture is my culture and I don't feel inclined to try to change that, even if I've drifted far from some aspects of it internally.
That said, I don't feel as if I have arrived at the end of my transition. My current situation feels transitory. Not so much because I feel a push toward "authenticity" in my interactions with others, but because I can easily envision various events that would push me into settling things in a way I have not so far. And one such event or another is likely inevitable.
I could easily write ten times this much, but my goal here was to be brief. Hopefully not too brief to be comprehensible. I may add to this later.
Exciting because I'd long enjoyed studying LDS history and doctrine, but I'd reached a point where I didn't expect to come across new things anymore other than minor details. I figured I'd have to be content with mainly reviewing "the basics" for the rest of my life. Learning these new and surprising things brought to my mind an image of being in a room with walls that were suddenly falling away to reveal a landscape that I'd never imagined existed.
Disturbing because I began to see implications. It didn't take long for a faith crisis to become an existential crisis. (I don't like to use the word crisis, as it feels melodramatic in describing my situation.) I've always liked to study philosophy, but my LDS faith had always prevented me from taking some ideas seriously beyond fun thought experiments.
Learning that the foundation of my religious beliefs was not as firm and well-defined as I had thought quickly led me to find other things that were open to questioning. The supernatural events of the Bible, for example. I'd always had the "as far as it is translated correctly" get-out-of-contradiction-free card, but now I found it possible to ask what now seems obvious: what reason do I have to take any of the supernatural claims seriously in the first place? I'd taken many things for granted based on cultural conditioning.
But what's open to questioning doesn't stop with religion. For example: Is there an objective basis for morality? What does it mean to refer to "reality" or "truth?" Does anything have meaning in a cosmic sense? Does it even make sense to think of myself as a self? Not all of these things were entirely new, but I'd never had to (or allowed myself to) truly confront such questions before without a safety net.
The problems of Mormonism quickly became relatively minor details for me. I never had an "angry phase," in part due to my nature and in part because I found it hard to get too worked up about things that make up just the first of many layers of assumptions that I could easily call into question. I can't take issue with those who "choose to believe" in Mormonism or Christianity or whatever. I assume that everyone must stop at one layer or another and stop questioning simply to function in life. And who am I to say that one such stop is better than another?
If there were a prize for taking things slowly, I might be in the running. I'm going on over ten years now. I still attend church (though my wife does not, but that's another story). When I actually sit down in a class or a meeting, however, I find even some of the most basic teachings alien now.
My current approach is more or less that absolutely everything is probably made-up nonsense, and it's up to me to decide what I want to value. Even if it valuing things at all is just piling on more nonsense.
I value the LDS community and the relationships that could be harmed if I were more outspoken with my thoughts. Mormon culture is my culture and I don't feel inclined to try to change that, even if I've drifted far from some aspects of it internally.
That said, I don't feel as if I have arrived at the end of my transition. My current situation feels transitory. Not so much because I feel a push toward "authenticity" in my interactions with others, but because I can easily envision various events that would push me into settling things in a way I have not so far. And one such event or another is likely inevitable.
I could easily write ten times this much, but my goal here was to be brief. Hopefully not too brief to be comprehensible. I may add to this later.