A Mormon Sabbatical

I told the Primary President in my ward that I wouldn’t be available to teach the 3-year-olds (the “Sunbeams”) next year. It was in many ways a typical Mormon experience. I was standing in an open hallway. I’d been called out of the general Primary “sharing time” lesson with four other teachers. This is the way Mormonism often works. No boundaries, especially not for women. No one thought to consider whether or not privacy might be an issue. When I asked to speak privately, the best I got was me alone in the hall.

I explained that I wouldn’t be attending church regularly next year and that was why I couldn’t teach the Sunbeams. The Primary Presidency was eager to tell me that if I had trouble with the new manual, which I don’t think is workable for 3-year-olds, I could teach what I wanted. I tried to explain that wasn’t the problem. The problem is simply that I don’t feel my voice is welcome here. When both women in the Primary Presidency assured me that my voice IS welcome, and then said that I’d never said anything that offended them, I sighed. Because I’ve been so very, very careful over the last four years NOT to say anything in church that would raise eyebrows. I offer jokes and occasionally, very rarely, a reminder that a scripture could be interpreted a different way.

But when I explained that I had the following problems with Mormonism, there was silence.

1.       I don’t believe in male priesthood authority, from bishops up to the apostles and prophet of the church. I neither believe that Mormonism has a unique, restored special priesthood from ancient heavenly messengers nor that it is the “one true church.” This means I don’t believe that temple ordinances matter, from personal endowments to doing baptisms for the dead or family sealings.

2.       I’m tired of women being relegated to pretend leadership positions with children and other women, where they always have to beg for money and better teachers because they get last pick and have to get approval from men.

3.       For three years I’ve worn black and a rainbow ribbon to church, protesting the church’s policy on same-sex married couples and their children (who are not allowed saving ordinances like baptism because of the sins of their parents) which is completely indefensible under any Christian mindset. I’ve only heard how I need to repent and “follow the prophet.” I can’t bear this anymore. I can’t defend the church and its leaders on this point anymore.

4.       I sit and listen to historically inaccurate lessons and scientifically inaccurate descriptions of the history of the earth and see how this leads to ignorance being encouraged in children, as well as prejudice. No more.

5.       I watch leadership worship that I believe is spiritually damaging. And it’s not just President Nelson and the apostles. The same thing happens on the local level. In my own ward, when we were asked to write special letters to our bishop to thank him for his service, something that no one in the ward is given, I threw up in my mouth a little. And not because he was a bad bishop. He’s a lovely person. But teaching our children to view any person in this way is wrong.

6.       I spent many years believing that the apostles of our church were good people who were wrong about LGBT+ issues. I no longer believe that. They are willfully causing damage, even suicides, and they simply don’t care. They are narcissists. President Oaks talk in General Conference was the last straw for me.

7.       The Mormon ideal of families sealed together in eternity sounds like such a wonderful thing. I clung to this for a long time, but I see its darker side now. It keeps women in abusive marriages. It keeps children in relationship to abusive parents. The “sad Mormon heaven” problem is real. It is used to emotionally blackmail adult children into pretending things they don’t believe in.

8.       The Mormon health code (Word of Wisdom) seems like a great thing. What’s bad about not smoking or not drinking? Nothing. But the smugness I see in Mormons on this “health code” bothers me. As long as they’re not drinking and smoking, I see little interest in other health strategies and I also struggle with the lack of ability to sort through scientific information properly.

9.       Hierarchy of heavens and checklists of worthiness. I used to love that Mormonism said that everyone went to heaven. There’s no hell in Mormonism. But we’ve replaced hell with checklists that determine who goes to which heaven that feels very much like some kind of MLM. If you pay more tithing, you end up more likely to be in leadership positions You have to pay tithing to get to the temple to see your kids married. It’s very disturbing to me from this side.

10.   Heavenly Mother is another belief I once thought was wonderful. As a woman, I need a woman who is divine to make me feel equal and to let me see that heaven will be a wonderful place for me, too. But the more I searched for information about Heavenly Mother, the less I loved the Mormon version of her. Many Mormons believe that God is polygamous, so there are many heavenly mothers. This isn’t a heaven I’m interested in, where women are so numerous they’re easily replaceable, where they have no identity of their own or power, but are merely there for their procreative ability.

In the end, my experiences with God/Goddess are more vast than Mormon theology seems to allow. The God I’ve learned to pray to doesn’t expect checklists, payments, or even clean clothes. My God has different forms and doesn’t teach lessons by causing babies to die. My God doesn’t expect obedience without explanation. My God doesn’t offer miracles as a reward only to the “faithful.”

But these thoughts are not welcome within Mormonism. And that’s fine, really. Mormons have a right to not want to hear me say things in the church that are against the teachings of the church leaders. It’s obvious why they wouldn’t want me to explain why it is that I think that the church has gone astray and why I no longer believe President Nelson speaks the words of God. But please don’t pretend that you want me to stay. You don’t want me to stay. You want me to leave.

Or you want me to pretend, which I can no longer do.

Even better, you’d like me to go backward, return to my previous beliefs. And that’s not going to happen, either.

I don’t think of myself as superior or more advanced than other Mormons. I do think that God has invited me to take the path that I’m on, and I do think that I’m a better person than I once was. Although, honestly, the God I worship no longer needs me to be on the constant lookout for mistakes in myself, or working forever on perfecting myself. My God laughs at these things. My God welcomes me however I am, and lets me acknowledge freely that I’m never going to come anywhere close to perfection, and truth is a better starting point for seeing reality clearly than lies.