tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-149421912024-03-06T22:07:38.440-08:00The Forbidden DonutAaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.comBlogger264125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-29967952465299763212023-05-14T09:56:00.000-07:002023-12-09T09:37:00.754-08:00Commencement<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">A friend
recently shared with me the old Yiddish adage, “Man plans, and God laughs.”
Even for a guy who isn’t sure about god anymore, that hits hard. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And then I
recently turned 45. Only a year ago<i>, maybe</i> two, I turned 40. At least
that's what it feels like.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Those two thoughts
merge here because my 40th birthday felt like a big deal – a mile marker that
left me keenly aware of my mortality in ways I hadn’t been before. In the days
surrounding that birthday, I took careful stock of my first 40 years of life,
looking for angles and hoping I could build on all I had learned (mostly from
my myriad mistakes) to maximize the years that remained. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">At the
time, what lay ahead felt mostly plotted out. I really only foresaw play at the
margins, and I envisioned years ahead of incremental improvements, with the
unstated hope that somewhere in those improvements, I’d find happiness. I was
still heavily entrenched in Mormonism then (with no thoughts of ever leaving).
I had a job I loved and planned to never leave. And while I’d had a long
dysfunctional marriage, we were working on it – at least in theory. The promise
of healing always seemed somewhere just out of sight, somewhere beyond the
horizon. And maybe that hope, combined with the terrifying impossibility of
divorce, was enough to stave off any thoughts of ending things. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">That’s my
best guess, at least. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But even if
I put aside the pandemic, it hardly feels like hyperbole to note that my life
has been almost completely upended in the last five years. In fact, it’s
slightly amusing to think just how bent out of shape 40-year-old Aaron might be
if he could see what was ahead. I can imagine his utter confusion, morphing
into abject horror. And then a lingering, sinking feeling in his stomach that
would give way to knots that keep him awake at night.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As I look
back now, I feel for him. But then I can also smile a little, because I <i>know</i>
it’s going to be ok for him. He will go through so many levels of Hell in the
next five years (and he really has <i>no</i> idea), but he’s going to be ok. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In fact, he’s
going to be so much more than ok. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0AhOJalTjGwBbi-hXuQiDDTLkPgVQO2OlNPo-JhCUwHK3ZMkSw9yR1pXMXw8wiBchCI9bTvBnWg32sYYhc-B1h39jKHkqhA8BIdmORQkBTVOHFVeremjnEpMPvLHwGea3mlBRv4U6rJK0yucmjLWjh0KiYb-BFEb4fJCqy9NBMxWkzgv5EUI/s3635/Photo%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3635" data-original-width="2726" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0AhOJalTjGwBbi-hXuQiDDTLkPgVQO2OlNPo-JhCUwHK3ZMkSw9yR1pXMXw8wiBchCI9bTvBnWg32sYYhc-B1h39jKHkqhA8BIdmORQkBTVOHFVeremjnEpMPvLHwGea3mlBRv4U6rJK0yucmjLWjh0KiYb-BFEb4fJCqy9NBMxWkzgv5EUI/s320/Photo%201.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">45-year-old Aaron</td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The Upheaval</span></u></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">If you’re
reading this, you’re almost surely aware that four years ago, I began what
would become a fairly public transition away from Mormonism. At the time, I
could hardly imagine anything more difficult: leaving a high-demand religion
that I heavily invested in for four decades – a religion that provided a
worldview I built my <i>entire</i> life around – was absolutely terrifying. It
shook the very foundations of my reality. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As I tried
to pick up the pieces in the aftermath, I channeled that pain and
disorientation into a series of public blog posts over the course of roughly 15
months. I’m not sure I</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 18.6667px;">’</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">ve ever poured my heart and energy into anything more
than I did that project. I</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 18.6667px;">’</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">m <i>so</i> pleased with how it turned out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And then
more recently, after 16 years, I left the Department of Justice and my position
as an Assistant United States Attorney for the District of Utah. I loved that
job so much, and I was all but certain I’d never leave it — until my
circumstances all but demanded it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Those
“circumstances” involved an impending divorce, after nearly 23 years of
marriage. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">**** <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">A few years
ago, I <a href="http://forbiddendonut7.blogspot.com/2020/12/the-still-small-voice.html" target="_blank">wrote candidly</a> about my marriage in the context of my faith transition.
In that post, I tried to be so careful in walking the tightrope of explaining
our years of difficulty without oversharing <i>and</i> without glossing over
the reality of just how difficult things had been. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">At the time
I wrote it, I felt like we’d moved through our difficulties toward a healthy,
functional relationship. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Now. .
.well, time has now proven those feelings were mostly aspirational. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The hardly
veiled subtext in that difficult post was that, for as long as I can remember,
ours had been an affectionless marriage. From my perspective, Michelle’s
romantic inclinations for me died not long after we married, though Michelle
puts the date years later. Either way, we both seem to agree (now) that had
been our reality for at least the last 14-15 years. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">We can
venture guesses as to why, though even educated guesses don’t feel helpful here
and now. We did, however, spend years and years in counseling trying to bridge
that divide — often with (LDS oriented) counselors assuring us with some
version of if we did all Mormon things, God would heal our marriage. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Not
exactly, it turns out. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I wrote
that post in earnest in late 2019, and the tribute I paid to Michelle then
still mostly holds, almost to the letter. But as time marched on, the
dysfunction between us became painfully obvious, the gnawing loneliness I felt
harder and harder to ignore or explain away. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">By late
September 2022, despite what felt like our best efforts, the decades of
distance had calcified into a hopeless impasse. Or maybe they had long since
calcified, but it was only at that point we could no longer pretend otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">We (I)
needed to end our marriage. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And to do
that, I soon had the sinking realization that I had to leave my job.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The heavy
months that followed were a mournful mixture of plotting and planning,
including the slow reveal to trusted friends and family – some of whose help I
needed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">We told the
kids a few weeks before Christmas. We told the world after I’d filed in late
January. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Too many
already know that divorce is hell, even when mostly amicable. In fact, that
descriptor hardly feels sufficient, so let me amend that statement a bit with
my now expanded vocabulary: for me, divorce was <i>fucking</i> hell. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">At least
for my part, the process of separating brought me to the lowest moments of my
life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In fact,
one practically sleepless night in early February, I spent what felt like hours
in the early morning heaving in uncontrollable sobs on my couch. I had never
felt so completely alone. I had never felt *that* hopeless. In the darkness, I
worried whether I would ever be functional again. I worried that I wouldn’t be
able to hold onto my new job. I worried that I’d never again be able to sleep
through the night. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And while I
was not suicidal, I was in such pain that I wondered if death wasn’t the only way
to stop feeling such all-consuming anguish. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In those
terribly vulnerable moments, I <i>almost</i> begged for the chance to reverse
course on our divorce. Except by then it was too late. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Beyond
that harsh reality, there was also the painfully stark reminder of my
surroundings: our living room was lined with years of family photos, all
staring sadly at me. You see, I could detail the empty longings I felt in
Every. Single. One. of those photos. In fact, the truth is that I’ve hardly
ever been able to look at<i> any </i>of our family photos without sensing a
kind of cruelty in the feigned closeness of our smiles, in the depictions of
physical proximity that belied the isolating distance between us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In those
dark hours, I felt so completely broken. And further, I felt <i>so</i> foolish
that I had ever dared to feel otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Fortunately,
at that lowest point, I had mind enough to send a desperate text to a few
people close to me. My brother Matt, out of town, read it and got ahold of my
mom, who I had not been close to for years. She called immediately, and I
reluctantly answered. And when I couldn’t stop sobbing on the phone, she told
me to come over right then (or she was coming to my house). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I drove the
few miles to her home, still crying uncontrollable tears the entire time.
Another friend, Christopher Beesley, called me on the way, catching more than
his fair share of my anguish. Mom met me in her driveway, hugged me tightly, and
ushered me inside. I sank into her couch as she held my hand, and I told her <i>everything</i>
that was in my heart. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">There, at
what felt like my lowest point, I started to rebuild my life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Commencement</span></u></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I’ve titled
this post “Commencement” because it feels (at least now) like a story of
beginnings. <i>Beautiful</i> beginnings. But the thing is, as I’ve tried to
write about this experience of starting over, I cannot meaningfully parse that
beauty from the painful endings that preceded them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Nor,
frankly, do I even want to. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">To borrow
Mary Oliver’s challenging metaphor, it’s my sense now that these various “box[es]
full of darkness” were also gifts. Sure, the loss of my faith, my marriage, and
my career were “gifts” I didn’t want (and I <i>certainly</i> never asked for),
but I cannot bring myself to wish them away now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2j4j-QGUa2FplxlEinEAZ7Mq9VDXRZzuvUiS0ozIxgnkenzAedexPO5vDesx9ErelR_PpEn5OcT-yClkXiFwmNT_VFVS-5ZDb-CBxpaBialN9qC_Pv3y6_Dmb7-9-cU9BMCOFt1RSA606Qribg4-2YyicaUnqzVgl8dYggds_JuhBEsNdGZ4/s896/The%20Uses%20of%20Sorrow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="757" data-original-width="896" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2j4j-QGUa2FplxlEinEAZ7Mq9VDXRZzuvUiS0ozIxgnkenzAedexPO5vDesx9ErelR_PpEn5OcT-yClkXiFwmNT_VFVS-5ZDb-CBxpaBialN9qC_Pv3y6_Dmb7-9-cU9BMCOFt1RSA606Qribg4-2YyicaUnqzVgl8dYggds_JuhBEsNdGZ4/s320/The%20Uses%20of%20Sorrow.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">[And
please, please understand, I can say this now <i>only</i> in hindsight. To have
offered such hopeful forecasting to the guy in the middle of those “gifts”
would have been a kind of cruelty.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In fact, I
want now to remember and hold onto every one of those feelings of heartache,
loneliness, and brokenness. I need to, because otherwise, I lose the
preciousness of what followed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">For
instance, beyond those healing moments with Mom, there was the confiding in my
friend Trinity in early October as we sat in the R&R BBQ parking lot, and I
could not hold back tears. Trinity listened so quietly and gently to my
bombshell, and our friendship grew exponentially in those moments. And in the
days and months that followed, he moved heaven and earth to help me secure new
employment. I could hardly ask for a more genuine and loyal friend, in a more
critical time of life. Or for a more complete demonstration of kindness –
kindness that I can never repay. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Then there was the
sense of raw, anguished desperation that drove me to Mat and Brooke Shaw’s couch
in late January, where I cried helplessly while curled in the fetal position.
Mat and Brooke had sat alongside me so faithfully through the loss of my faith,
and they listened still so gently to a somehow more painful development. So
softly, they offered what comfort they could, with Brooke putting her hand on
my shoulder at one point and whispering that it would be ok. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In that
hour, Mat and Brooke met me (again) in my brokenness, and it is now one of the most
cherished memories of my life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I also need
to remember the emptiness I felt as I packed up my belongings to move out of my
home, and just how many friends and family met me in that emptiness. On a
Friday morning in mid-February, they loaded and then unloaded my things with
smiles, assembling new furniture and arranging items without asking – all while
somehow making me feel as though <i>I</i> were doing <i>them</i> some service. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I could
hardly tell them then (or now) how much that meant to me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And then to
have one friend, Jeremy Snow, unexpectedly at my door the next morning — the
morning after my first night in my new home. Jeremy spent several hours
visiting with me (and happily assembling more of my office furniture). And
while I can’t remember the specifics of our conversation now, I remember how
precious it felt. I remember, too, that he just wanted to make sure I knew I
was loved and not alone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I still can
hardly look back on his visit without tearing up all over again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Or my brother
Matt’s perfect silence a few weeks later as we drove the lonely miles down to
Valley of Fire, Nevada. He <i>almost</i> pretended not to notice my
uncontrollable tears from a few feet away as we took in the barren landscape,
and I felt the fresh sting of all I had lost. And then, after a long, long
silence (and my tears had started to dry), he offered the gentlest words of
encouragement — words that belied any hope that I’d been able to cry those
tears in secret. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">There are
the cycling miles we put in that day, too, as I lagged behind most of the
group, so heavy in my grief. Slowly, so slowly sometimes, I tried to pedal
through that grief as I took in the breathtaking painted rocks. It seemed like
l felt <i>everything </i>in those miles, including, eventually, something close
to healing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">All the
above doesn’t even take into account the texts and emails and phone calls and
Facebook messages from more friends and loved ones than I can count, all of
whom received the news of my divorce (and my loss of faith years prior) with
such care and who took up the invitation
to literally and figuratively sit with me in my grief. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">There have
been so many treasured visits to my new home, too, from friends and family
anxious to mourn and laugh with me, to share in my food and deep conversation. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I wonder if
there is anything more precious in this life than the pairing of good food and
good conversation with your favorite people. I’m not sure there is. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">So while
there has been (and may yet be) space for lamenting the difficulties of the
last 5 years, I’m not in a place now where I can lament them. Removing those
parts of my story would take from me too many moments of beauty and connection
— too many moments that are unquestionably some of the most precious of my
life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As I have
said so often before, I would not trade those memories (those difficulties) now
for all the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But there
is more here than just a reframing of hard things. There is this: I don’t seem
to be nearly as broken as I felt in my lowest moments. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I started
to notice this even before I (re)started therapy. Somewhere in feeling my way
through the darkness of self-doubt, a persistent bit of sunshine kept bubbling
up to the surface: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I <i>really</i>,
<i>really</i> like who I am. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Yes, there
are parts of me that are hopelessly awkward, and parts of me that will (probably)
always fall short of the ideal. But for as much as I fall short, I so love who
I am becoming. I love the direction I’m heading. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I love, for
instance, the daily habits I’ve cultivated and refined over the years. Those
habits stem so much less often now from a place of emptiness and insecurity (of
trying desperately to be “enough”), and so much more from simply trying to live
intentionally. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I love
where those habits have led me. I love how they expand for me what is possible –
in a day, in a year, in a life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As is
probably evident to everyone by now, I have also come to love good poetry, and
I cherish how it calls to me and lifts me. In the framework of my past life,
poetry has become a new form of scripture and reverie. Maybe even sometimes
prayer, though I don’t use that word in the way that I used to. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I also love
this growing sense of curiosity and willingness to be vulnerable. I love the
challenge of squaring up to the world each day with a determined openness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I love the
friendships I’ve made and strengthened, especially these last few years. And I
love the growing feeling that rich connections and relationships are just
around the corner. . .with just a little bit of bravery and kindness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And
speaking of bravery, can I share with you something that’s brought me so much
joy in recent months? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">About a
year ago, I took up the personal challenge to try to do something “brave” every
day. I’ve never defined the term, but it seems to mean finding the courage to
do something uncomfortable — something that I am at least a little afraid of.
Sometimes that’s meant big things (like tackling Big Cottonwood Canyon on my
bike), but usually it’s meant little things. Often that challenge has been just
the nudge I need to gather the courage to talk to people in situations where I’ve
usually stayed sheepishly silent. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I’m not
sure I can overstate how much that small shift in perspective has changed my
life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And yes, a lot of that has to do with the fact that I’ve started talking to people more. People I don’t know, in all
sorts of situations, just trying to make <a href="https://community.macmillanlearning.com/t5/talk-psych-blog/the-happy-science-of-micro-friendships/ba-p/13993" target="_blank">micro connections</a>. At the gym. In the
grocery line. Sometimes even (gasp) on the elevator. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">For
instance, several weeks ago, I engaged my Uber driver in pleasant banter.
Somehow, by the end of our 15-minute drive, the conversation had led us to talk
earnestly with each other about divorce and moving through it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As these
sorts of interactions have piled up, a curious thing has happened along the
way. Somewhere in all these efforts, I’ve started to sense just how much people
(on the whole) appreciate when others take a kind interest in them. I have
always, always been <i>so</i> shy, and the thought that kept me from
interacting with people I didn’t know, for all these years, was always some
form of “Why would this person have any interest in talking with me? I'm not
going to bother them.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But as I’ve
gotten brave enough to shift the focus away from myself and toward others —
trying to notice something, <i>anything</i> about them that might lead to a
kind observation — I’ve gotten to the point where I almost can’t help but talk
to people now. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And here’s
the thought that stopped me in my tracks recently (in the best of ways): <i>this</i>
was how Dad always approached the world, how he approached others. I’ve even
<a href="https://forbiddendonut7.blogspot.com/2020/01/five-years-later.html" target="_blank">written before</a> that one of Dad’s beloved hallmarks was that he “took an outsized interest in people” — the kind of interest that allowed him to talk to
a janitor once who would remember that micro-connection years later. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I almost started
crying at the thought that I’d somehow, impossibly, found a way to channel this
most precious part of my dad, to keep him alive (in me) just a little more, for
at least a little longer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The world
feels so much brighter in this space. So much more open and welcoming.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As for my
career change, it’s true that I left a job I loved, a job I never planned to
leave. That was very difficult.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Recently,
though, I’ve explored Annie Duke’s <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/11/17/well/quit-annie-duke.html" target="_blank">research</a> on the science of quitting. She
posits that we humans don’t quit things enough (or soon enough) — that, like
aging athletes who hang on long past their prime, we default to a status quo
bias that often leaves us holding on to jobs, relationships, and circumstances <i>long</i>
after it might better serve us to move on. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Because
this tends to be our default, a forced change sometimes (often?) ends up being
the best thing for us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I have a
suspicion now that might be the case for my career. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Listen, I <i>loved</i>
being a federal prosecutor. I loved the work I got to do. I loved the people I
got to work with. I loved the lifestyle. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I had also
grown very comfortable in that role. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And maybe
there’s the crack of light. In my new role — partner at a law firm with a practice
focusing on white collar criminal defense — I am uncomfortable <i>all the time</i>.
Work on this side of the aisle, in the private sector, requires a much
different (and expanded) skill set, and almost everything about the job has
been so stretching and demanding. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But then, I
<a href="https://www.rickhanson.net/being-well-podcast-how-to-create-massive-change-with-dr-benjamin-hardy/" target="_blank">hear</a> that discomfort is really the only path to growth. Real, exponential
growth anyway. And on my best days, I see that discomfort as yet another daily
opportunity for bravery. At the same time, too, it helps that the people I get
to practice with now have also quickly become some of my favorite people. They
have been <i>so</i> patient and reassuring as I find my footing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I <i>will</i>
find my footing. And as I do, I have this growing feeling I’m really going to
love this side of the work, too. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As for the
deeper, existential matters that I wrestled with (at length) in earlier posts,
let me share where life has taken me these last few years: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I have no
more answers on those matters now than I had a few years ago. In fact, I may
well have fewer. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">But then
also, having answers matters so much less to me now. I mean, <i>of course</i> I
care about what’s to come, but that feels unknowable. And the fact is, I’ve
already prepared myself for the worst. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Besides, I
feel so much more settled now in searching curiously against a backdrop of a
growing list of questions. Whether I find “answers” to those questions feels so
much less important now than the people I get to search for them with, than the
connections I want to make and strengthen with my fellow travelers as we <a href="https://www.ramdass.org/walking-each-other-home/" target="_blank">walk each other home</a> – whatever “home” ends up looking like. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Really, all
I can be certain of is what I have in front of me right now. And, especially
sensing this may be all I get, I want to make the most of this “one wild and
precious life.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I’m
learning, too, that might mean spending some afternoons “just” feeding sugar
cubes to grasshoppers.</span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fH8PNDRQLv23qWBuuFXMwloNWOGh_LM4erYRx6fBKEVnm0dNhsjvt2mvHPJs-jN2l8DG-FpDfxdEZWpzz74xKILVdHdyloR_Ai6Cvd7eGsgBB6ogETW0w_WkvknI93tXJMYiDIQ_c9nxCQLCnj6ACRyPqjLqe5wb1paofZcUfw1xEn-Eov0/s712/The%20Summer%20Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="712" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fH8PNDRQLv23qWBuuFXMwloNWOGh_LM4erYRx6fBKEVnm0dNhsjvt2mvHPJs-jN2l8DG-FpDfxdEZWpzz74xKILVdHdyloR_Ai6Cvd7eGsgBB6ogETW0w_WkvknI93tXJMYiDIQ_c9nxCQLCnj6ACRyPqjLqe5wb1paofZcUfw1xEn-Eov0/w400-h364/The%20Summer%20Day.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I still
prize kindness and integrity, but I’ve also added to that list now the
companion virtues of curiosity and bravery. If it wasn’t already evident above,
people and connections are what matter most to me now. And when I contemplate
what a “good” life might look like for me in the end, I’m not sure I hope for
much more than to feel present, grateful, and content as often as possible. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">For me, those
are the seeds of wonder and awe, and I hope to drink in those feelings as often
as I can. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Ah, but the
truth is, there <i>is</i> more. I do, after all, hope to know love and
companionship in ways I can’t remember knowing — in ways I’ve maybe never
known. In that regard, the Raymond Carver poem “Late Fragment” has stirred
something deep within me for years and called me to account:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9XvK8O6UHU2zsIe9CTK5mMw0Q8nySMvDQ_YGdHW-kbnHHU6Qz12Rcw-hDbCOnMqH6ljlyVXVguHgtO0tgBNLNb_yDk4RBsiFsbOty0YJ76SGIqU8EGIuzljPjTymqGkEj58SSlhGAWzEpMSmrjGZGNESONEyzrWTxvRwcHzIZegFdXYztBo/s764/Late%20Fragment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="764" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9XvK8O6UHU2zsIe9CTK5mMw0Q8nySMvDQ_YGdHW-kbnHHU6Qz12Rcw-hDbCOnMqH6ljlyVXVguHgtO0tgBNLNb_yDk4RBsiFsbOty0YJ76SGIqU8EGIuzljPjTymqGkEj58SSlhGAWzEpMSmrjGZGNESONEyzrWTxvRwcHzIZegFdXYztBo/w400-h235/Late%20Fragment.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">It is not
just romantic love I’m after, though. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">An author I
love recently <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Anthropocene-Reviewed-Signed-John-Green/dp/0525555218" target="_blank">pointed me</a> to Maurice Sendak’s <a href="https://www.npr.org/2011/12/29/144077273/maurice-sendak-on-life-death-and-childrens-lit" target="_blank">final public interview</a>. Sendak
wrote the beloved children’s book <i>Where The Wild Things Are</i>, a story I
must have read to my children at least a hundred times in an earlier life (I
can still quote most of that book from memory). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Prior to the
interview, Sendak had lost someone very dear to him, and he knew he wasn’t long
for this world either. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And yet he
movingly expressed that he was “in love with the world.” An apparent atheist,
he had no fear of his own death, but he confessed how hard it was to lose
people he loved – how much losing them made him love them more:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">“I have
nothing but praise now, really, for my life. I mean, I'm not unhappy. I cry a
lot because I miss people. I cry a lot because they die, and I can't stop them.
They leave me, and I love them more....”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Moments
later, Sendak poignantly acknowledged that “there are so many beautiful things
in the world” and that he was ready to go. He described himself as “a happy old
man” but that he would still “cry my way, all the way to the grave.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">His final
words to the interviewer were to “Live your life. Live your life. Live your
life.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">So maybe
this is my hope and my determination as I set out on this second half of life:
that I, too, fall in love with the world and daily find ways to "Live [my]
life. Live [my] life. Live [my] life." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I hope hope
hope to stay open enough, to live bravely enough, to feel everything, “beauty
and terror” as Rilke put it. I want to know the exultant joy of loving others
with my whole soul, and I’m willing to know the exquisite companion pain of
probably losing them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioibIpRiroFHqgfqaCliuOMJqNUg5Kwgg-9O2sxXiX6QTrR1UImTqhVh2I8k8nlmBF9siRVKLbQSM81tRYfm49WC2vADmjRV7lBwH2d5mZE9mV2NMcMHxllakQiVfiXnNrQ-RVm8tiyv5stso_25lAIEWJUAYQXS4_mLG5d2OI2-QKaZQ0mmA/s1125/Beauty%20and%20Terror.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="881" data-original-width="1125" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioibIpRiroFHqgfqaCliuOMJqNUg5Kwgg-9O2sxXiX6QTrR1UImTqhVh2I8k8nlmBF9siRVKLbQSM81tRYfm49WC2vADmjRV7lBwH2d5mZE9mV2NMcMHxllakQiVfiXnNrQ-RVm8tiyv5stso_25lAIEWJUAYQXS4_mLG5d2OI2-QKaZQ0mmA/s320/Beauty%20and%20Terror.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And maybe,
when the end comes for me (hopefully not for a while yet), Mary Oliver’s words
will have become mine: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I was a bride married to
amazement.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I was the bridegroom,
taking the world into my arms.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">When it’s over, I don’t
want to wonder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">If I have made of my life
something particular, and<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I don’t want to find
myself sighing and frightened,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Or full of argument.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I don’t want to end up
simply having visited this world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcJmE4KPDGOTMvHetBwBVhLAOPAH38mIyaz6g2afFZFykt2QQXuw8MmSF-GcgVqFlq8xLPiDeeJUdobWGiZlUp4AH-d2WJa_w71ApvtSb4cyHiOfrYpCv_UtCWF5X0renuQcpzk9DQq79MxnZCVyGNfknnZwQT4Ylx4EjEkwgzln1sQnM1X0/s783/When%20Death%20Comes.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="783" data-original-width="589" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcJmE4KPDGOTMvHetBwBVhLAOPAH38mIyaz6g2afFZFykt2QQXuw8MmSF-GcgVqFlq8xLPiDeeJUdobWGiZlUp4AH-d2WJa_w71ApvtSb4cyHiOfrYpCv_UtCWF5X0renuQcpzk9DQq79MxnZCVyGNfknnZwQT4Ylx4EjEkwgzln1sQnM1X0/w482-h640/When%20Death%20Comes.png" width="482" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I don’t
know about you, but I’m determined not to end up “simply having visited this
world.” Or to borrow from Thoreau, I’m damn well determined not to go the grave
“with the song still in [me].” Not, at least, if I get to spend any bit of this
great adventure walking alongside my friends and loved ones. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And if you’ve
come with me this far, you must be one of those friends, right? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">If not now,
then soon enough, I should think. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Either way,
I'm *so* glad to have you here with me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWx9v4sVVkphAdE7Jpd78ZfM-Q0l8mL-gGENlFBR0C1TplzPj-aEa-kYE4TnrDREWNuFH2luTg_8g4Gfjkc1JPTrmT95hDQweo_bW5yAH8KXjcUdRbFEzpeDOOHSKDss42mNaFRG2Fgy4TsYGq5iD_ikAPitQYP8fKUT63AUnTNAyEXcdsBaw/s6025/Photo%202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6025" data-original-width="4017" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWx9v4sVVkphAdE7Jpd78ZfM-Q0l8mL-gGENlFBR0C1TplzPj-aEa-kYE4TnrDREWNuFH2luTg_8g4Gfjkc1JPTrmT95hDQweo_bW5yAH8KXjcUdRbFEzpeDOOHSKDss42mNaFRG2Fgy4TsYGq5iD_ikAPitQYP8fKUT63AUnTNAyEXcdsBaw/w266-h400/Photo%202.jpeg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-55753904279720641672022-12-28T18:12:00.002-08:002022-12-28T18:12:42.717-08:00The Twelfth Day of Christmas "Cookies": Double Fudge Brownies (Martha Stewart) <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbZesfXIljh0rwy_QiMfoFzMw07hcq1YxUMIEy2fNgkv6UJqMsuEiqzR3WKalQVWQ9EJwg1zMWmLHRvHhR6OGg5uRX_d64cLVCv2AsLSln2naB9Bim5Mh61zk3NRYcRkDtnjQLREcqEnmvwZKVzpYkkGUE9w5Pbz3FSwoMeFysc-cjLG7kcI/s4032/Brownies%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbZesfXIljh0rwy_QiMfoFzMw07hcq1YxUMIEy2fNgkv6UJqMsuEiqzR3WKalQVWQ9EJwg1zMWmLHRvHhR6OGg5uRX_d64cLVCv2AsLSln2naB9Bim5Mh61zk3NRYcRkDtnjQLREcqEnmvwZKVzpYkkGUE9w5Pbz3FSwoMeFysc-cjLG7kcI/w400-h300/Brownies%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">Yes, I
know. Brownies aren’t cookies. But this is what happens when your oldest asks
for brownies for his birthday dessert, and his birthday happens to be on
Christmas Day. </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I <i>love</i>
this Martha Stewart brownie recipe – I’ve been making it for years. It’s even
better with toasted walnuts. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Fudgy
Double Chocolate Brownies (Martha Stewart)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">stick unsalted butter, cut into
large pieces<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">6 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">ounces bittersweet chocolate,
chopped (I use bittersweet disks) <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cups sugar <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> large eggs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup unsweetened cocoa powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon salt<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup,
plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup toasted walnuts, roughly
chopped<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond; mso-fareast-font-family: Garamond;">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line an 8-inch
square baking pan with parchment, leaving a slight overhang on all sides. Melt
butter and chocolate in a double boiler or a heatproof bowl set over a pot of
simmering water, stirring until smooth. Remove from heat and whisk in sugar.
Whisk in eggs, 1 at a time, until combined. Whisk in cocoa and salt. Fold in
flour until combined. Fold in toasted walnuts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond; mso-fareast-font-family: Garamond;">2.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Pour batter into pan. Bake until set and a
toothpick inserted into the center comes out with moist crumbs, 35 to 40
minutes. Let cool slightly in pan, about 15 minutes. Lift brownies from pan
using parchment. Remove parchment, and transfer to a wire rack. Let cool
completely. Cut into 9 squares.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VU7H-YxzFp2Ez2kDR4aHZqjo3xmm2KtQ4cHl9qex3-YWSqjb6rttZbMLLCC2wgegCVLhBz0syGiWbx_YNA99NIiTpN_t6zsjh3Xte6rR5Rw5fkaXtpwbs9SF6zuQP-yBz-tgR7HgGSh9Hrh0vAWUOGoz8LPYPr5yzKvUUgq4MqIFDHQn4co/s4032/Brownies%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VU7H-YxzFp2Ez2kDR4aHZqjo3xmm2KtQ4cHl9qex3-YWSqjb6rttZbMLLCC2wgegCVLhBz0syGiWbx_YNA99NIiTpN_t6zsjh3Xte6rR5Rw5fkaXtpwbs9SF6zuQP-yBz-tgR7HgGSh9Hrh0vAWUOGoz8LPYPr5yzKvUUgq4MqIFDHQn4co/w400-h300/Brownies%203.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><br /></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-60245831742634139422022-12-23T09:31:00.001-08:002022-12-23T09:31:29.480-08:00The Eleventh Day of Christmas Cookies: Gingerbread Men (America's Test Kitchen)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZwQ0fg294fPNTFuq2Rra8OE_-CkCjKDDebZ0Q105yQc2b3iLCqTt-DDl7I3h49d5AvarWmZzo_VZ_2E4Ywc9yJaBWjAPpU0W0XU_ZxnnIAa1CALHkTRr624N7C0Bm8Npw0iV2NSpG-mXqEarbK9uK-a0nJiFfZRbOUVY7Cm0OK6q7y7JRd4/s4032/IMG_3169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZwQ0fg294fPNTFuq2Rra8OE_-CkCjKDDebZ0Q105yQc2b3iLCqTt-DDl7I3h49d5AvarWmZzo_VZ_2E4Ywc9yJaBWjAPpU0W0XU_ZxnnIAa1CALHkTRr624N7C0Bm8Npw0iV2NSpG-mXqEarbK9uK-a0nJiFfZRbOUVY7Cm0OK6q7y7JRd4/w400-h300/IMG_3169.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">I’m a
sucker for just about any cookie, but especially gingerbread men. In fact, if they’re
soft </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">(but not </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">too </i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">soft),
relatively thick, and have a healthy amount of icing, they’re all but irresistible.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I can’t
say I’ve done a ton of experimenting with various gingerbread recipes, but I like
this one from America’s Test Kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Gingerbread
Cookies (America’s Test Kitchen)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup packed dark brown sugar <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> tablespoon cinnamon<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> tablespoon ginger<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> tablespoon baking soda<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> tablespoon cloves<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoon
salt <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>12 </b>t</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">ablespoons
(1.5 sticks) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature, cut into 12 pieces<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup light molasses <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">tablespoons whole milk<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond; mso-fareast-font-family: Garamond;">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Process the flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger,
baking soda, cloves, and salt in a food processor until combined, about 10 seconds.
Scatter the butter pieces over the top and, using short pulses, process to a
very fine meal, about 15 pulses. With the machine running, slowly pour the
molasses and milk through the feed tube and process until the dough forms a
soft mass, about 10 seconds.</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">2.<span> </span><span> </span>Scrape the dough onto a counter and divide it in
half (I like putting it directly onto a large piece of parchment paper – it’s a
more containable mess). Working with ½ the dough at a time, roll it out a 1/8
thickness (here, again, I go for a bit thicker) between two large sheets of
parchment paper. [I like to fold over the parchment paper on top of the dough
before rolling it – then I don’t have to worry about the dough sticking to the
rolling pin.] Slide the rolled dough and parchment onto a baking sheet and
refrigerate until firm, about 20 minutes.</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond; mso-fareast-font-family: Garamond;">3.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Adjust the oven racks to the upper- and
lower-middle positions and heat the oven to 350 degrees. Cut shapes out of the rolled
dough using cookie cutters and lay on two parchment-lined baking sheets, spaced
about 3/4 inch apart. Bake until the
cookies are light golden brown, 10 to 12 minutes, rotating and switching the
baking sheets halfway through baking. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond; mso-fareast-font-family: Garamond;">4.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Let the cookies cool on the baking sheets for 2
minutes before transferring them to a wire rack to cool completely, about 30
minutes. When cooled, glaze, decorate (and eat).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NBUTYUsXJUsAkNgr3_-OlLV8mOTH4M4G4IhTcNQq4gFsZ8raMi6KviZBimLZ5QibTsRA5vSxk-j7A6lPJPeJM2T3mQ2-ubhOu5kboE_Kc0gw8TUU4zkS607JRzqLbSZWX54nxONvH8PNOjLwaIeGwtgaDvPLaIaqko0_9f9OdBIvbIDXdIE/s4032/IMG_3167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NBUTYUsXJUsAkNgr3_-OlLV8mOTH4M4G4IhTcNQq4gFsZ8raMi6KviZBimLZ5QibTsRA5vSxk-j7A6lPJPeJM2T3mQ2-ubhOu5kboE_Kc0gw8TUU4zkS607JRzqLbSZWX54nxONvH8PNOjLwaIeGwtgaDvPLaIaqko0_9f9OdBIvbIDXdIE/w400-h300/IMG_3167.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-66251699962694795542022-12-22T09:15:00.000-08:002022-12-22T09:15:13.925-08:00The Tenth Day of Christmas Cookies: Chocolate Sugar Cookies (Sally's Baking Recipes)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXk45KV6MvwJ3GV7r4nK0KSSceQ2p6X_hVvavLCsB8XJGIcA862vZFwRFzxQeCJh4zE6fehgmNkch9PHiOFtZznZv4MLOr6mIom_v1hor7KaKQauhqJSSsKY-_0lGdg1XfESoh20zRsgj4JbLZsYHIylahP2j6ZgVgdss4YcVu3pgXjwW4dOo/s4032/IMG_3159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXk45KV6MvwJ3GV7r4nK0KSSceQ2p6X_hVvavLCsB8XJGIcA862vZFwRFzxQeCJh4zE6fehgmNkch9PHiOFtZznZv4MLOr6mIom_v1hor7KaKQauhqJSSsKY-_0lGdg1XfESoh20zRsgj4JbLZsYHIylahP2j6ZgVgdss4YcVu3pgXjwW4dOo/w400-h300/IMG_3159.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">I
thought I already had a pretty good repertoire of cookie recipes at my disposal,
but these chocolate sugar cookies have helped me realize that there are still
untapped levels of cookie deliciousness for me to explore.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This recipe,
recommended by a friend (h/t Shelly Astle) has been on my list to try for some
time, but I’ve only now gotten around to it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In
short: They are a new favorite.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">My worry
about chocolate sugar cookies was that the difference would mostly be cosmetic –
just enough cocoa powder to make the cookies <i>look</i> chocolatey without adding a
significant chocolate flavor. This recipe, though, uses a healthy amount cocoa powder, and it completely shifts the flavor toward a <i>genuinely</i> chocolate
cookie.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I’m
still a fan of soft and thick cookies, so I aim for a thickness between 1/3 to
1/2 inch (as opposed to the recommended ¼ inch), while still holding to an 11-minute baking time. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I’m
already looking forward to making these again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Chocolate
Sugar Cookies (<a href="https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/chocolate-sugar-cookies/" target="_blank">Sally’s Baking Recipes</a>)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1.5 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup unsweetened natural cocoa
powder (or dutch process) <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon baking powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/8 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoon
salt <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup (1.5 sticks) unsalted
butter, softened to room temperature<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup granulated sugar <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">large egg, at room temperature<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoon pure vanilla extract<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Whisk the flour, cocoa powder, baking
powder, and salt together in a medium bowl. Set aside.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2. In a large bowl using a hand mixer or a
stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter and sugar together
on high speed until completely smooth and creamy, about 2 minutes. Scrape down
the sides. Add the egg and vanilla and beat until combined. Scrape down the
sides.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3. Add the dry ingredients to the wet
ingredients and mix on low until combined. Dough will be soft. If the dough
seems too soft and sticky for rolling, add 1 more Tablespoon of flour.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">4. Divide the dough into 2 equal parts. I
like to use two large pieces of parchment paper, and place half the dough on
each. With a rolling pin lightly dusted with cocoa powder (or flour), roll the
dough out to about 1/3 to 1/2-inch thickness (original recipe calls for ¼ inch
thick). Cover the dough (I like to make the parchment paper big enough to fold it
over and wrap it up. Refrigerate for at least 1-2 hours. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">5. Once chilled, preheat oven to 350°F. Line
2-3 large baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats. Carefully
remove the top dough piece from the refrigerator. Using cookie cutters, cut the
dough into shapes. Re-roll the remaining dough, using more cocoa powder or
flour to lightly dust your work surface and rolling pin, and continue cutting
the dough until all is used. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">6. Arrange shaped cookies on baking sheets 1-2
inches apart. Bake for 11-12 minutes or until edges are set, rotating the
baking sheet halfway through bake time. Allow cookies to cool on the baking
sheet for 5 minutes and then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely before
decorating.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJqHw8n4ZY0sUYWEpu-I2uErgzbhZQB6eZqFNlKRT4XT9Y3vTzdr1N5njIEIgtHwPf5reHbzRj1vBD4iAbUZz_Lw0qHQWWvqqguhEBlKZDztzpUMCNrcvnL-LCDZjVEj6U2fKkl4mUTbWAHmOvhwRBMBSF7wvWgn1rQFBzbqg529QNy04uoE/s4032/IMG_3160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJqHw8n4ZY0sUYWEpu-I2uErgzbhZQB6eZqFNlKRT4XT9Y3vTzdr1N5njIEIgtHwPf5reHbzRj1vBD4iAbUZz_Lw0qHQWWvqqguhEBlKZDztzpUMCNrcvnL-LCDZjVEj6U2fKkl4mUTbWAHmOvhwRBMBSF7wvWgn1rQFBzbqg529QNy04uoE/w400-h300/IMG_3160.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-47509668178920571452022-12-20T18:38:00.002-08:002022-12-20T18:38:37.097-08:00The Ninth Day of Christmas Cookies: Sugar Cookies (Alton Brown) with Royal Icing (Nigella Lawson)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3UJiR7HavyX4vaPfOuBrSFgeh4WO9sBhqqMMhKpYdnq3VuaLd2-ZQl8-xvxmqfOUVI_VPxw5HNoDldroSwrEd-8dhfz6UD0HMtocTiGN_lXLalSh94H1YSm0axSO7pJqiMi1D_Tg52J-HKKrH7DZ_ZHPx3RKWw7ZG4u0OhNDx4suGEDjSM6o/s5184/IMG_5139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3UJiR7HavyX4vaPfOuBrSFgeh4WO9sBhqqMMhKpYdnq3VuaLd2-ZQl8-xvxmqfOUVI_VPxw5HNoDldroSwrEd-8dhfz6UD0HMtocTiGN_lXLalSh94H1YSm0axSO7pJqiMi1D_Tg52J-HKKrH7DZ_ZHPx3RKWw7ZG4u0OhNDx4suGEDjSM6o/w400-h266/IMG_5139.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">Sugar
cookies are synonymous with several holidays, but none more than Christmas (at
least in the Clark household). In fact, when my kids were smaller, they
understood that the only cure for the “grinch bug” was sugar cookies. Just the
mention of that cure could often turn a frown upside down.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I like
my sugar cookies soft and thick, and I like them best when the frosting on the
cookie has just crusted over. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For
years I’ve faithfully used Alton Brown’s sugar cookie recipe for the dough.
Recently, I’ve started playing with adding almond extract to the mixture.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For frosting,
I prefer Nigella Lawson’s royal icing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Sugar
Cookies (Alton Brown)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoon baking powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon salt <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup (2
sticks) unsalted butter, softened<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup sugar <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">egg, beaten<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">tablespoon milk<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoon almond extract
(optional)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Powdered
sugar, for rolling out the dough<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Sift together flour, baking powder, and
salt. Set aside. Place butter and sugar in large bowl of electric stand mixer
and beat until light in color. Add egg and milk and beat to combine. Put mixer
on low speed, gradually add flour, and beat until mixture pulls away from the
side of the bowl. Divide the dough in half, wrap in waxed paper, and
refrigerate for 2 hours..<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2. Preheat oven to 375 °F.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3. Sprinkle surface where you will roll out
dough with powdered sugar. Remove 1 wrapped pack of dough from refrigerator at
a time, sprinkle rolling pin with powdered sugar, and roll out dough to
1/4-inch thick (mine are typically just under ½-inch thick). Move the dough
around and check underneath frequently to make sure it is not sticking. If
dough has warmed during rolling, place cold cookie sheet on top for 10 minutes
to chill. Cut into desired shape, place at least 1-inch apart on greased baking
sheet, parchment, or silicone baking mat, and bake for 7 to 9 minutes or until
cookies are just beginning to turn brown around the edges, rotating cookie
sheet halfway through baking time. Let sit on baking sheet for 2 minutes after
removal from oven and then move to complete cooling on wire rack. Serve as is
or ice as desired. Store in airtight container for up to 1 week. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Royal Icing (Nigella Lawson)</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> large egg whites (or substitute powdered
egg whites)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cups confectioners' sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon lemon juice<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Combine the egg whites and confectioners'
sugar in a medium-size mixing bowl and whip with an electric mixer on medium
speed until opaque and shiny, about 5 minutes. Whisk in the lemon juice, this
will thin out the icing. Beat for another couple of minutes until you reach the
right spreading consistency.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtc5jYI-3umZKWZSyRvnHvBj7fnkRQ3RGHnTWqfVYNMG4VffNpmMWEpErjoQH5UVdN5wqV8R69nC5zR6PbJZd3BJVBr7iEfmZ6bgnwheqKD2am5UiV5X2oiDB_ZSiWFnUGH2DvScsXQHdatuRSpvHJvljDx6AWWoA_5us4aRmsy43UMjaxeg/s5184/IMG_5135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtc5jYI-3umZKWZSyRvnHvBj7fnkRQ3RGHnTWqfVYNMG4VffNpmMWEpErjoQH5UVdN5wqV8R69nC5zR6PbJZd3BJVBr7iEfmZ6bgnwheqKD2am5UiV5X2oiDB_ZSiWFnUGH2DvScsXQHdatuRSpvHJvljDx6AWWoA_5us4aRmsy43UMjaxeg/w400-h266/IMG_5135.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-314089489639662652022-12-15T19:35:00.002-08:002022-12-15T19:35:21.510-08:00The Eighth Day of Christmas Cookies: Mexican Wedding Cookies (America's Test Kitchen)<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-spmqcoYxCS7M1MwjYEFmJvjNKzpDuCJ2_U-ZAdCrvUDcDwnMeQAqha8wQcSYhR4d_o3pf3-c24W6YM-i5ksG61rb0jI0ZZO5ZtVQYgfulPJga9triqbZacpR_sAzOeQBfzW-OBphQX3afvyqobSc2aV1KegKJjq-vWj06Eq16VVhEEn-IS4/s5184/IMG_5133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-spmqcoYxCS7M1MwjYEFmJvjNKzpDuCJ2_U-ZAdCrvUDcDwnMeQAqha8wQcSYhR4d_o3pf3-c24W6YM-i5ksG61rb0jI0ZZO5ZtVQYgfulPJga9triqbZacpR_sAzOeQBfzW-OBphQX3afvyqobSc2aV1KegKJjq-vWj06Eq16VVhEEn-IS4/w400-h266/IMG_5133.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Growing
up, I only knew them as Russian Tea Cakes. And the way my mom made them, they
had a Hershey Kiss at the center (which I loved at the time, though it meant
the chocolate was the dominant experience; and if you kept the cookies in cold storage,
biting into them was like biting into a piece of granite). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This America’s Test Kitchen
recipe maximizes the nutty flavor – taking it well beyond a simple shortbread
cookie caked in powdered sugar. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">My two cents:
the Mexican Wedding Cookie is one of the most underrated Christmas cookies. They’re
never going to be the flashiest cookie on your party platter, but my goodness
are they delicious (especially this version, sans the chocolate rock in the
middle). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mexican
Wedding Cookies (America’s Test Kitchen)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups pecans or walnuts (I almost
exclusively use pecans here)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon salt <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">16 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">tablespoons
(2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/3 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup superfine sugar <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">[If you
don’t have superfine sugar lying around, you can put 1/2 cup granulated sugar
into a food processor for 30 seconds, then measure out 1/3 cup.]<b> </b><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoons vanilla extract<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups powdered sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Adjust the oven racks to the upper and
lower middle positions and preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Process 1 cup of the
nuts in a food processor to the texture of coarse cornmeal, 10 to 15 seconds,
then transfer to a medium bowl. Process the remaining 1 cup nuts in the food
processor until coarsely chopped, about 5 seconds, then stir into the bowl of
finely ground nuts, along with the flour and salt. Set aside.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2. Beat the butter and superfine sugar
together in a large bowl, using an electric mixer until light and fluffy (3 to
6 minutes). Beat in the vanilla. Reduce the mixer speed to low and slowly add
the nut mixture until combined (about 30 seconds). Scrape the bowl and beaters
with a rubber spatula and continue to beat on low speed until the dough is cohesive
(about 7 seconds).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3. Working with 1 tablespoon of dough at a
time (I use a small ice cream scoop), roll into 1-inch balls and lay on two parchment-lined
baking sheets, spaced about 1 inch apart. Bake until the tops are pale golden
and the bottoms are just beginning to brown, about 18 minutes. Rotate and switch
the baking sheets halfway through baking. [This is a good time to get a head
start on the dishes!] <o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">4. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheets
for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely. Roll the cookies
in the powdered sugar to coat. Just before serving, re-roll the cookies in
additional powdered sugar, gently shaking off the excess. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7fVIQye2vG9UmqEQ6F2z0ZnkaLBtACVJ1JWVMDKLvi09-NGiufask4HU8hj51GBRBEd56hXw16qvCTiM3qc1loFQ2RhRwcIMGjjhjyHTWGlO03d4be_WTUYhLtWh7GTvdlKSiLCeER-eCm-ePTL7EjT3Rv4FILHx_Rw0hz3NeEiz1kJLeGw/s5184/IMG_5134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7fVIQye2vG9UmqEQ6F2z0ZnkaLBtACVJ1JWVMDKLvi09-NGiufask4HU8hj51GBRBEd56hXw16qvCTiM3qc1loFQ2RhRwcIMGjjhjyHTWGlO03d4be_WTUYhLtWh7GTvdlKSiLCeER-eCm-ePTL7EjT3Rv4FILHx_Rw0hz3NeEiz1kJLeGw/w400-h266/IMG_5134.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-17244279903295497862022-12-14T19:44:00.002-08:002022-12-14T19:44:45.721-08:00The Seventh Day of Christmas Cookies: Snickerdoodles (America's Test Kitchen)<p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrM_6FjLB9k34r3oGgO25UYs4e482oSIsz2HdU6G2tDYK54isX_jaty-r7vqmKbs02RQCfaVgpY06j9JkV5GLRxIyOYur55fSzpUF3bWv96jymX5S6wtFwY_eePz4cmTQIaZ83YOt0lKEHnujfHfKOrY60HWWx7UCcH4FJ1v-LSewUFJ1byPs/s5184/IMG_5127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrM_6FjLB9k34r3oGgO25UYs4e482oSIsz2HdU6G2tDYK54isX_jaty-r7vqmKbs02RQCfaVgpY06j9JkV5GLRxIyOYur55fSzpUF3bWv96jymX5S6wtFwY_eePz4cmTQIaZ83YOt0lKEHnujfHfKOrY60HWWx7UCcH4FJ1v-LSewUFJ1byPs/w400-h266/IMG_5127.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;">F</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;">ew
cookies evoke happier memories for me than snickerdoodles. First it was my
friend Sean’s mother who made them for us in the halcyon days of sleepovers and
the 8-bit Nintendo. And then it was Michelle surprising me with 2 or 3 dozen of
these cookies on my birthday – less than two months after we married (she baked those cookies while I was working an early morning custodial job and had given me the impression she’d only made one batch, having hidden the extra 2+
dozen for me to find later in the day).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I love
how snickerdoodles seem to melt in your mouth, and how they’re light enough
that I could probably eat a dozen at a time if I’m not careful. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">These
days I use the America’s Test Kitchen recipe rather faithfully. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Snickerdoodles
(America’s Test Kitchen)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> tablespoon cinnamon <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2 1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoons cream of tartar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoon baking soda<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoon salt<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">8 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted
butter, softened<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup vegetable shortening <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> large eggs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and preheat
oven to 375 degrees. Combine ¼ cup of sugar and the cinnamon in a shallow dish
for coating and set aside. Whisk together the flour, cream of tartar, baking
soda, and salt together in a large bowl and set aside.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2. Beat the butter, shortening, and remaining
1.5 cups sugar together in a large bowl using an electric mixer on medium speed
until light and fluffy, 3 to 6 minutes. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, until
incorporated, about 30 seconds, scraping down the bowl and beaters as needed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3. Reduce the mixer speed to low and slowly
mix in the flour mixture until combined, about 30 seconds. Give the dough a
final stir with a rubber spatula to make sure it is combined. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">4. Using wet hands (or for me a 2 tablespoon
size ice cream scoop), roll 2 tablespoons of dough at a time into balls, then
roll the cinnamon sugar to coat and lay on two parchment-lined baking sheets,
spaced about 2.5 inches apart. Bake the cookies, one sheet at a time, until the
edges are set and just beginning to brown, but the centers are still soft and
puffy, 10 to 12 minutes (10 for me), rotating the baking sheet halfway through baking.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">5. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet
for 10 minutes, then serve warm or transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely.
<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_DS-3KPZ9T_pGu1vK67XnABD_41gjMIWTQlTR6TLyW7BSXjxNb6GZKFsyucetAxzT2NmzgYMeHIlPH60iUQRoHwDisYB2xc3jj-fvzInP6q0PnoSS5ZKmvByfpVwBC2-Dg--pCzw0GPCIa0rujJNsorBMe7M9HcpBqqoYpb5VvWe5wG-D6MY/s5184/IMG_5130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_DS-3KPZ9T_pGu1vK67XnABD_41gjMIWTQlTR6TLyW7BSXjxNb6GZKFsyucetAxzT2NmzgYMeHIlPH60iUQRoHwDisYB2xc3jj-fvzInP6q0PnoSS5ZKmvByfpVwBC2-Dg--pCzw0GPCIa0rujJNsorBMe7M9HcpBqqoYpb5VvWe5wG-D6MY/w400-h266/IMG_5130.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-71064989056415679122022-12-11T13:21:00.000-08:002022-12-11T13:21:12.858-08:00The Sixth Day of Christmas Cookies: The New York Times (Jacque Torres) Chocolate Chip Cookies<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4S41LjEdGxBPXsEfWIoCG7VXLiVi_y1DNYDqt1c16j9oZvqL8B8blkgdd9ODlrL3U4reb4E6xt-xwwERN3awgGbVdD4DS94A8N62ju676PjGdyf_0TRVuxE8YtMBR9A92Vue-GuLMnhPv9y0schrWsDpbYldbdeqv6rCsEJKHtPlJxDfTjzo/s5184/IMG_5125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4S41LjEdGxBPXsEfWIoCG7VXLiVi_y1DNYDqt1c16j9oZvqL8B8blkgdd9ODlrL3U4reb4E6xt-xwwERN3awgGbVdD4DS94A8N62ju676PjGdyf_0TRVuxE8YtMBR9A92Vue-GuLMnhPv9y0schrWsDpbYldbdeqv6rCsEJKHtPlJxDfTjzo/w400-h266/IMG_5125.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Not all chocolate chip cookies
are created equal.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I’ve only started making this
recipe in the last few years – after stumbling upon an article about a
supposedly killer Jacque Torres chocolate chip cookie recipe made famous by the
New York Times. I’ve had <i>lots</i> of really good chocolate chip cookies over
the years, so I was equal parts skeptical and curious about claims that <b>*this*</b>
recipe was the end-all-be-all for this most ubiquitous cookie.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But after making these cookies (repeatedly), I can at least attest that I haven’t yet been able to falsify that
hypothesis. I can also say that, with all my years of baking, no other cookie
has made me quite as many friends as this one.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This recipe admittedly requires
some extra planning and effort, both because it requires some out-of-the-ordinary ingredients (e.g., cake flour, bread flour, bittersweet chocolate
disks) and because it asks you to make the dough 24-36 hours before baking. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It’s all worth it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">To really make this recipe work,
make sure you also have a kitchen scale to properly measure out the ingredients
and apportion the cookie dough. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I will note that the original recipe calls for
sea salt sprinkled on top. I tried that, but I found the cookies were already salty enough (Michelle also thinks we don’t
have the right kind of sea salt). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">At the recommended 3.5 oz of
dough per cookie, these cookies are <i>big</i> without being gaudy – in my mind the
perfect size to feel truly contented with just one. There aren’t many homemade
cookies I can say that about. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyzGz9V1xTj0jjeCIoT11up9XWbpYOjXdrcmct8pENtcfzSlpokK5oKOZdhI0cHFppteng44tnne0EB-OJHPoE4QYfuQ0GlM74pjlsmAI9W92b30_lAOwUs1tbEdWPpQZhwZtirbGtZ7ZUPBddWqjucISuR2WGon2iWrQV2AaZWI0zELCazg/s5184/IMG_5121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyzGz9V1xTj0jjeCIoT11up9XWbpYOjXdrcmct8pENtcfzSlpokK5oKOZdhI0cHFppteng44tnne0EB-OJHPoE4QYfuQ0GlM74pjlsmAI9W92b30_lAOwUs1tbEdWPpQZhwZtirbGtZ7ZUPBddWqjucISuR2WGon2iWrQV2AaZWI0zELCazg/w400-h266/IMG_5121.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">New York Times (Jacque Torres)
Chocolate Chip Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cups
minus 2 tablespoons cake flour (8.5 ounces)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 2/3</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cups
bread flour (8.5 ounces)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoons
baking soda<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoons
baking powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">teaspoons
coarse salt<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cups
unsalted butter (2.5 sticks)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cups
light brown sugar (10 ounces)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar (8 ounces)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> large
eggs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">
teaspoons natural vanilla extract <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> lbs.
bittersweet chocolate disks or feves (I get these locally at Winco Foods)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Sift flours, baking soda,
baking powder, and salt in a bowl. Set aside. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2. Using a mixer fitted with a
paddle attachment, cream butter and sugars together until very light. About 5
minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well and scraping down the sides after
each addition. Stir in vanilla. Reduce speed to low, add dry ingredients until
just combined – about 10 seconds. Drop chocolate pieces in and incorporate them
(trying not to break them). Press plastic wrap against dough and refrigerate 24
to 36 hours. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3. When ready to bake, preheat
the oven to 350 degrees. Line baking sheets with parchment paper or Silpat (nonstick
baking mat). Set aside.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">4. Scoop six 3.5 ounce mounds of
dough (the size of generous golf balls) onto a baking sheet, making sure to
turn horizontally any chocolate pieces that are poking up; it will make for a
more attractive cookie. Bake until golden brown but still soft (16 minutes for
me, though the original recipe calls for 18 to 20 minutes). Transfer sheet to a
wire rack for 10 minutes, then slip cookies onto another rack to cool a bit
more. Repeat with remaining dough (makes 18-19 cookies). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Jf_qjfDJOyudiqqc42yC8QigqYgvOkjgvQu_Vwie0THPse5FHvxbtEsoMtY-EIm1dgqa_dR65dIszLQ8nj0PG4kXBwOjzciTl0med4W62g1IW1_5BtU9OqKR80_TeaJP8BDQr_k6BDEy0IFo2-7ZorN0CdT506UD3xZQgsugKgANbV2qiQk/s5184/IMG_5120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Jf_qjfDJOyudiqqc42yC8QigqYgvOkjgvQu_Vwie0THPse5FHvxbtEsoMtY-EIm1dgqa_dR65dIszLQ8nj0PG4kXBwOjzciTl0med4W62g1IW1_5BtU9OqKR80_TeaJP8BDQr_k6BDEy0IFo2-7ZorN0CdT506UD3xZQgsugKgANbV2qiQk/w400-h266/IMG_5120.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-27687790271371500982022-12-10T18:23:00.000-08:002022-12-10T18:23:21.121-08:00The Fifth Day of Christmas Cookies: Alisha's Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup Cookies<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFPzi7Blm3w6c475_VVGqUhjfMiksrct4s_aXmHBws1org1Rq6JCD8MVT0WcSpatAjx3JrhX-wokZVGwdd9ec-7dMlJF4dqd6hN4A7ciSbzKuG65xSd6eztKAVaa5QRXKFDTODYQPzWPYrg-aB42zHjfLVRLOXQiobqr0dIjok1aADYnkodck/s5184/IMG_5108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFPzi7Blm3w6c475_VVGqUhjfMiksrct4s_aXmHBws1org1Rq6JCD8MVT0WcSpatAjx3JrhX-wokZVGwdd9ec-7dMlJF4dqd6hN4A7ciSbzKuG65xSd6eztKAVaa5QRXKFDTODYQPzWPYrg-aB42zHjfLVRLOXQiobqr0dIjok1aADYnkodck/w400-h266/IMG_5108.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">There might not be another
cookie in the Clark household as consistently popular as the chocolate peanut butter cup cookie. My sister
Alisha used to make these, and it’s only in the last 5-6 years that I took up
the recipe myself.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I’ve since made some tweaks. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">First, I make these cookies <i>big</i>,
using the 2” ice cream scoop to portion and shape them. At this size, the
recipe will make about 22 cookies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Second, the original recipe called for cutting
up 8-10 full-size Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and mixing them into the dough.
That’s fine, but I now use the smaller-sized cups and simply push one cup into
each scoop of dough <i>after</i> you’ve scooped it but before dropping the
dough onto the cookie sheet (so the cup ends up hidden in the bottom center of
the cookie). This allows the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup to hold its form (it
always made me a little sad when the cut-up Reese’s would further break apart
as they were mixed into the dough). It also ensures an equal distribution of
Reese’s across the cookies. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zqz8Ckd0nKpAPE16anMa-JhcEYgiZCUMngBZedQ0YxRQ00TaLfk-K8eSEndG75mWZw8kXFON0sNfhVqxRCBpjv9x4mz_AJaqLppru8KHz4HEnI18sIbDozQ96-WKW0tvzcf1fD4AfCOmif2WqxWnvJFsDL0VaHT35XaDbRGGva6-vJ5Hlus/s4032/Reese's.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zqz8Ckd0nKpAPE16anMa-JhcEYgiZCUMngBZedQ0YxRQ00TaLfk-K8eSEndG75mWZw8kXFON0sNfhVqxRCBpjv9x4mz_AJaqLppru8KHz4HEnI18sIbDozQ96-WKW0tvzcf1fD4AfCOmif2WqxWnvJFsDL0VaHT35XaDbRGGva6-vJ5Hlus/s320/Reese's.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Finally, after years of
experimentation, I decided to take the recipe one step further: adding Reese’s Pieces
to the top. Just about everyone I've polled prefers the crunchy addition of these candies to an otherwise soft cookie. [In fact, only one person doesn’t
prefer the Pieces -- I think we all know who that is.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I like to undercook these at
about 8 minutes per cookie sheet. I also like to give these cookies extra time
to cool on the sheet (15-20 minutes) before removing them to a rack.
Otherwise, the Reese’s on the bottom of your cookie will leave chocolate
streaks on your Silpat/parchment and spatula. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">These cookies are at their best if you can bring yourself to
wait an hour or two before eating (allowing them to fully cool). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Alisha’s Chocolate Peanut Butter
Cup Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
butter, softened<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
creamy peanut butter<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup
white sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3/4 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup
packed brown sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">eggs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">tsp
vanilla extract<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2 1/3</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cups
all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1/3</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
cocoa powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">tsp baking
powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup semi-sweet
chocolate chips<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">cup
peanut butter chips<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">22 </span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">small-size Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Adjust the oven rack to the middle
position and heat the oven to 350 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment
paper or Silpats. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">2. Whisk the flour, cocoa, baking
powder together in a medium-sized bowl.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">3. In a separate mixing bowl,
cream together the butter, peanut butter, white sugar, and brown
sugar until smooth (about 2 minutes). Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir
in the vanilla, scraping down the sides of the bowl each time. Mix in the
chocolate chips and peanut butter chips. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">4. Use a 2” ice cream scoop to
portion the dough. Into each scoop of dough (while it’s still in the ice
cream scoop), insert a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. Then place the cookie dough
on the cookie sheet, spacing about 2 inches apart. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">5. Bake one sheet of cookies at
a time for 8-10 minutes, rotating the cookie sheet halfway through. Afterward,
let the cookies cool on the sheet for 15 minutes before removing them to a rack
[this might be a good time to do your dishes]. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4zM41xHOAvSKYCeXicW-PQ1rjAfuJolQOmH7NiIxKi6UcNXVUnEQMd8SQzjOaUhigedSsy_Xv3NzAff1stb0QHbrH8dB1Q6qwkv5TR2q-Hq60Nvmx0svP35y05t1sgFKBeYIB91gfm-P9Z2VTlc5v8dgzxiXtpin0iqz1DzO0sRGVqdoZiU/s5184/IMG_5115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4zM41xHOAvSKYCeXicW-PQ1rjAfuJolQOmH7NiIxKi6UcNXVUnEQMd8SQzjOaUhigedSsy_Xv3NzAff1stb0QHbrH8dB1Q6qwkv5TR2q-Hq60Nvmx0svP35y05t1sgFKBeYIB91gfm-P9Z2VTlc5v8dgzxiXtpin0iqz1DzO0sRGVqdoZiU/w400-h266/IMG_5115.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-72315871651761801992022-12-07T19:42:00.003-08:002022-12-12T07:21:01.576-08:00The Fourth Day of Christmas Cookies: Chocolate Crinkle Cookies<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHUtMwRLXS_7bmqQptvJXfayo4OEjVYzwSj48S51BnZbJPxx7pMwWK_NgGh64ecv6dCykPkVhLGcmJCqW9dC0IWTtm_DiWVgF6sTd9pAxrhSRTu4HtMNsVQRNS41qrlOOwxHWdmAtgLjO-U2G3H5EsaGka8IwNZReES8OrGlVfhf47H23GLo/s4032/IMG_0446.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHUtMwRLXS_7bmqQptvJXfayo4OEjVYzwSj48S51BnZbJPxx7pMwWK_NgGh64ecv6dCykPkVhLGcmJCqW9dC0IWTtm_DiWVgF6sTd9pAxrhSRTu4HtMNsVQRNS41qrlOOwxHWdmAtgLjO-U2G3H5EsaGka8IwNZReES8OrGlVfhf47H23GLo/w400-h300/IMG_0446.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Chocolate Crinkle Cookies are the
cookie version of brownies, and I love them for that.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I started making these myself a
few years ago, hewing closely to the America’s Test Kitchen recipe. They became
even more popular in our home when I felt free to add in the optional espresso
powder (it was less about the dark notes for my kids than the feeling of sanctioned
rebellion).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">I will confess that I haven’t yet
used unsweetened chocolate bars in this recipe; I’ve settled Kirkland semi-sweet
chocolate chips. Someday!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 150%;">Chocolate Crinkle Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Makes about 22 cookies<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
(5 ounces) all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
(1 1/2 ounces) unsweetened cocoa powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon
baking powder<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1/4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon
baking soda<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon
salt<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1 1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> cups
packed (10 1/2 ounces) brown sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">3</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> large
eggs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoons
instant espresso powder (optional)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> teaspoon
vanilla extract<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> ounces
unsweetened chocolate, chopped [or semi-sweet chocolate chips, if you’re
willing to settle]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> tablespoons
unsalted butter<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
(3 1/2 ounces) granulated sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1/2</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> cup
(2 ounces) confectioners' sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">Directions<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">1. Adjust oven rack to middle
position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment
paper. Whisk flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together in
bowl.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">2. Whisk together brown sugar,
eggs, espresso powder (if using), and vanilla together in a large bowl. Combine
chocolate and butter in a bowl and microwave at 50 percent power, stirring
occasionally, until melted, 2 to 3 minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">3. Whisk chocolate mixture into
egg mixture until combined. Fold in flour mixture until no dry streaks remain.
Let dough sit at room temperature for 10 minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">4. Place granulated sugar and
confectioners’ sugar in separate shallow dishes. Working with 2 tablespoons
dough (or use #30 scoop) at a time, roll into balls. Drop dough balls directly
into granulated sugar and roll to coat. Transfer dough balls to confectioners’
sugar and roll to coat evenly. Evenly space dough balls on prepared sheets, 11
per sheet.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">5. Bake cookies, 1 sheet at a
time, until puffed and cracked and edges have begun to set but centers are
still soft (cookies will look raw between cracks and seem underdone), about 12
minutes, rotating sheet halfway through baking. Let cool completely on sheet
before serving.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPlNgFdrLAbv-XafUL4q7z4xwhuCnaqqjF66IEt67DtD9Dg48AGiuA6Nze8ZN4dZfSf9RYd2NPinVhsxS6E4oaWOLlGAiwl0NCcWWG5Ed1u4uZgMg90g52ftotLLHGNL4Qi3jupW8PpTd0ivj8jJt323R1jMgdDbAGt8AXCsYrlUpRSNEDao/s4032/IMG_0445.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPlNgFdrLAbv-XafUL4q7z4xwhuCnaqqjF66IEt67DtD9Dg48AGiuA6Nze8ZN4dZfSf9RYd2NPinVhsxS6E4oaWOLlGAiwl0NCcWWG5Ed1u4uZgMg90g52ftotLLHGNL4Qi3jupW8PpTd0ivj8jJt323R1jMgdDbAGt8AXCsYrlUpRSNEDao/w400-h300/IMG_0445.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-30291436293400959302022-12-05T19:40:00.001-08:002022-12-05T19:41:44.526-08:00The Third Day of Christmas Cookies: Monster Cookies<p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIRsaN6i-iY7iADe6DQcFQSysUf0otiaKwsUCMQHc-CbGEV49JqcvCCb4S3eJG8xbwfK1WkhbobQx_p1fB6l3oQmyKaeB0NP4ohDLM3JvQksV0uvCc-AvVjFXdf2MYGVIwzI6C3TR7QYNbVS3OzpaoHG7pgVVzy1vvw-aRKyNFH8fjPGjFCQ/s5184/IMG_5090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIRsaN6i-iY7iADe6DQcFQSysUf0otiaKwsUCMQHc-CbGEV49JqcvCCb4S3eJG8xbwfK1WkhbobQx_p1fB6l3oQmyKaeB0NP4ohDLM3JvQksV0uvCc-AvVjFXdf2MYGVIwzI6C3TR7QYNbVS3OzpaoHG7pgVVzy1vvw-aRKyNFH8fjPGjFCQ/w400-h266/IMG_5090.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
Third Day of Christmas Cookies features a recipe I’ve used longer than any
other. In fact, I don’t even remember baking cookies before I started baking
these.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
recipe came to us from friends in Irvine and started out as a standard
chocolate chip cookie recipe. That suited our needs for years, and the
shortening/butter fat combination offered some nuance I didn’t find in other
recipes (the shortening also allowed these cookies to bake a little thicker than
cookies that rely solely on butter for the fat). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Over
the years, I started tinkering with the recipe by adding to the mixture nuts
(and later <i>toasted</i> nuts), coconut, and sometimes even chopped-up candy
bars. The kid in me was also drawn to the aesthetic and added crunch of milk
chocolate M&Ms on top (Michelle doesn’t seem to appreciate the M&Ms, but
she tolerates those of us who do). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
the current evolution of this recipe, the M&Ms are still a mainstay. I now use
coconut oil in place of shortening (which provides the coconut aroma without
the added dryness that comes with using actual coconut). I also refuse to make
these cookies unless I’m including toasted pecans (toasted walnuts could work
too, but I’m of the mind that they’re more suited for brownies). As with the
molasses spice cookies and most of the other cookies I bake, I like these best
when I bake them large (with a 2” ice cream scoop), aiming for a soft
interior and slightly crusted exterior. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They’re
workman-like cookies as they lack the sophistication of some of my other
favorites, but one of my sisters claims they’re her favorite (and I
like to believe she’s not just saying that to humor me). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
recipe also makes a <i>ton</i> of cookies (well, more like 24+ using the
large scoop).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One
last thought: I find that these cookies taste even better the second day –
after the chocolate has a chance to “set” into the cookie. If you know, you
know. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Original Monster Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
Stick (1/2 Cup) of Butter<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
Cup Coconut Oil (or Shortening)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
1/4 Cup White Sugar<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
1/4 Cup Light Brown Sugar<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
Tbls. Vanilla Extract<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2
Large Eggs<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">4
Cups White Flour<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2
tsp. Baking Soda<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
tsp. Salt<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2
Cups Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips (we prefer the Kirkland Signature brand, but
only if they’re the “real” chocolate chips)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
Cup Toasted Pecans or Walnuts<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1
Cup (or so) of Milk Chocolate M&Ms</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Directions</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Toast
and roughly chop the pecans, if you haven’t already. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Mix the butter, shortening, white sugar, and brown sugar
in a bowl for two minutes or so. Add the eggs and vanilla. Mix well. Add
the baking soda and salt. Mix well. Add the flour. Mix well. Add the chocolate chips
and nuts. Mix well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On
parchment paper or a Silpat, use a 2” ice cream scoop to drop generous balls of
cookie dough a few inches apart (I can fit 8 safely on a regular size cookie sheet). Place the M&Ms on top of the dropped cookie dough balls. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bake
for 10-12 minutes, rotating the cookie sheet at the halfway point. Aim
for the edges of the cookies to <i>just</i> start to turn golden brown. Let the
cookies cool on the sheet for at least 5 minutes, then remove them to a rack. </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4foVdZy0gxx9Z0mc70NH2Dp6GWxQFeZ4a6Te92xDI-CoHnxylDcOWBk1Lq_IP5FdZgpuMMUw_Htzj33_f_uLKfo7GjwUesrwtCj5jiii4dUMblxTpkAZ68g8u1qyLnOuNHIj-lABqpcDhKHI_MRiMm9lUtg5pJNlrvsd18nOfOJQvQUqytg/s5184/IMG_5093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4foVdZy0gxx9Z0mc70NH2Dp6GWxQFeZ4a6Te92xDI-CoHnxylDcOWBk1Lq_IP5FdZgpuMMUw_Htzj33_f_uLKfo7GjwUesrwtCj5jiii4dUMblxTpkAZ68g8u1qyLnOuNHIj-lABqpcDhKHI_MRiMm9lUtg5pJNlrvsd18nOfOJQvQUqytg/w400-h266/IMG_5093.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-26037958454650210472022-12-04T14:45:00.002-08:002022-12-04T14:50:27.933-08:00The Second Day of Christmas Cookies: Molasses Spice Cookies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH67vFMZtnXXOfnCkw3D3yxNaWZ-A_fk8U0sm6MRhECZob_p8st2L371_K4sTZS96yZddzHo0Tr24aegCoYn-u9D8yNoDs6vDg1a8MoB7NmZtFOGDe8qPM5vr4lHpv_6Y-ZEMo84FPgo9cJaoKTTx4JyL-7NrFK0ZMtxYGFDCiJPk_c6NeSTA/s5184/IMG_5069.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH67vFMZtnXXOfnCkw3D3yxNaWZ-A_fk8U0sm6MRhECZob_p8st2L371_K4sTZS96yZddzHo0Tr24aegCoYn-u9D8yNoDs6vDg1a8MoB7NmZtFOGDe8qPM5vr4lHpv_6Y-ZEMo84FPgo9cJaoKTTx4JyL-7NrFK0ZMtxYGFDCiJPk_c6NeSTA/w400-h266/IMG_5069.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I
nailed it.”</span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
comment laid bare my conceit, but this latest batch of cookies deserved it. Even
my 16-year-old – who seems to delight in nothing more than contradicting her
father – nodded in assent. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
Second Day of Christmas Cookies is devoted to one of my favorite recipes: a
variation on Martha Stewart’s molasses spice crisps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
<i>love</i> the smell and flavor of these cookies. They’re synonymous now with
fall and Christmas (though I’m not shy about making them any time of year). I’m
also particularly fond of how the salt in the recipe helps highlight the cloves
and cinnamon. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
should also tell you upfront that I’ve never made these cookies intending them
to be “crisps” [if you’re into crispier cookies generally, that’s ok, but we
might have trouble relating]. From the outset, I’ve tinkered with
the baking time and temperature (as well as the size of the
cookie), looking for the perfect balance of soft cookie interior with slightly
crusted exterior. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
my last few batches, I’ve come as close to that perfect balance as ever by going
bigger with the cookies (using the 2” ice cream scoop) and lowering the baking
temperature to 325 degrees for 10 minutes. </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieysjComBA_moXTFPwREheCnq02r_bwJr-Is4nyVK_gr-2Dcks-VBX43FA0AqGs43LxZvxuVcUYAvtNdAW4S60odIFytK615VAPlK_uGMFjyv6d0DsKY8-f0ipfTJFRFwdN6V42COdtpelWDKDz0RPDH3-EfgwMpAyWmcPzo21mgcS-OiANXo/s5184/IMG_5074.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieysjComBA_moXTFPwREheCnq02r_bwJr-Is4nyVK_gr-2Dcks-VBX43FA0AqGs43LxZvxuVcUYAvtNdAW4S60odIFytK615VAPlK_uGMFjyv6d0DsKY8-f0ipfTJFRFwdN6V42COdtpelWDKDz0RPDH3-EfgwMpAyWmcPzo21mgcS-OiANXo/w400-h266/IMG_5074.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here’s
my variation of the recipe:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Molasses
Spice Cookies (Inspired by Martha Stewart)</u></b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;">Ingredients</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2 cups
all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2
teaspoons baking soda<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1 teaspoon
ground cloves<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1 teaspoon
ground ginger<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1 teaspoon
ground cinnamon<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1/4
teaspoon salt<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">3/4 cup
solid vegetable shortening<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1 1/2 cups
granulated sugar, divided<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1 large
egg<o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1/4 cup
unsulfured molasses</span></span></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;">Directions</span></b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Line baking sheets with parchment (since Michelle
doesn’t like the residual cinnamon smell on the Silpats); set aside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2.
In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, cloves, ginger, cinnamon,
and salt; set aside. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle
attachment, combine shortening and 1 cup sugar. Beat on medium speed until
light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add egg and molasses, then beat to combine.
Add dry ingredients and beat on low to combine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">3.
Place the remaining 1/2 cup sugar in a small bowl. Using a 2-inch ice-cream
scoop, form balls of dough. Roll dough balls between the palms of your hands
until smooth. Roll in sugar. Place about 2 inches apart on prepared baking
sheets. Bake until the cookies are set in the center and begin to crack, about
10 minutes, rotating the baking sheets once after 5 minutes. Transfer the
baking sheets to a wire rack to cool, 5 minutes. Transfer cookies to rack until
completely cool. Store in an airtight container up to 1 week.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Makes
about 12 cookies [closer to 24 if you use the 1 ½ inch ice cream scoop].</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54jxbHr_sFZs19a4L49LDedThF2DaoYbpfS3LMI2MBRE58hfAUtFVG1sRoGh5GaG1Gbj_lbyuJ8XxtoO1iHjW7RLiTY54nKs5uB4FYgMscn9fCqnrrbYpaeekXsGhs4xlpgz5lZOY1LQ6c_ugFFQydhiakqPp1KlXfHSLKz5wdrTpt5gM4RQ/s5184/IMG_5072.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54jxbHr_sFZs19a4L49LDedThF2DaoYbpfS3LMI2MBRE58hfAUtFVG1sRoGh5GaG1Gbj_lbyuJ8XxtoO1iHjW7RLiTY54nKs5uB4FYgMscn9fCqnrrbYpaeekXsGhs4xlpgz5lZOY1LQ6c_ugFFQydhiakqPp1KlXfHSLKz5wdrTpt5gM4RQ/w400-h266/IMG_5072.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><br /></span><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-59731856146308950292022-12-03T18:43:00.001-08:002022-12-03T18:43:39.530-08:00The First Day of Christmas Cookies: David Lebovitz's GingersnapsWith a little over three weeks until Christmas, I want to try something ambitious: baking twelve different kinds of Christmas cookies ahead of the big day, and blogging about each. I've dubbed this project The Twelve Days of Christmas Cookies.<div><br /></div><div>Up first is a recipe I tried for the first today: David Lebovitz's Gingersnaps from <i>Room for Dessert</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNKE8MYzpjPEYtKmQ6r-JA0AH9VutZeQKvi8FydnwNeF9gNuVy0kcTRx0Jd48XbT6IoWuM3olo2PDrKsrrd_VjJb9vgdO3g2O-p-2K2p5QjBXKFVXCW76agVQNwvVnyzfSc6KpqjwGBUK6FRAkVd-WrGJU1TxQ7u4OQdVU37jyANGi_OFy40/s5184/IMG_4998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNKE8MYzpjPEYtKmQ6r-JA0AH9VutZeQKvi8FydnwNeF9gNuVy0kcTRx0Jd48XbT6IoWuM3olo2PDrKsrrd_VjJb9vgdO3g2O-p-2K2p5QjBXKFVXCW76agVQNwvVnyzfSc6KpqjwGBUK6FRAkVd-WrGJU1TxQ7u4OQdVU37jyANGi_OFy40/w640-h426/IMG_4998.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>David Lebovitz is a bit of a legend in the Clark home. We've got two of his cookbooks -- <i>Ready for Dessert </i>and <i>The Perfect Scoop </i>(ice cream) -- that we lean on almost as much as any other cookbooks we own. The guy doesn't seem to miss, and his attention to detail for sugary confections has helped to <i>significantly </i>elevate and refine our own dessert game. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'd never seen this particular recipe until recently, though, when a colleague from work shared it (not knowing how much we revere Lebovitz in this house). Though I would've made these cookies regardless, I was certainly intrigued by an ingredient list that includes black pepper and diced candied ginger.</div><div><br /></div><div>These cookies turned out much thinner than I had expected, though tasting them reminded of Kramer's line from Seinfeld about his thinly sliced deli meats: The taste has nowhere to hide. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FdChSEabeDw" width="320" youtube-src-id="FdChSEabeDw"></iframe></div><br /><div>The black pepper gives these cookies a delightful little kick, though I'd hoped for more from the candied ginger (while the diced ginger is visibly noticeable in many of the cookies, I couldn't detect any notable flavor from it).</div><div><br /></div><div>My chief regret with this first batch of these cookies is that I intentionally underbaked them. I like soft cookies, and that hack has worked well for me with a Martha Stewart molasses spice cookie recipe that will show up in this project sooner or later. But the underbaking didn't work as well here, and I think it's because the cookies are so thin. </div><div><br /></div><div>So next, I'll be a bit more strict in following the recommended baking temperature and time. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here's the recipe (my comments and observations in parentheses):</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">Gingersnaps</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>1/2 lb. (2 sticks) butter -- at room temperature</div><div>1 1/4 cups granulated sugar</div><div>1/4 cup molasses</div><div>1 teaspoon vanilla extract</div><div>2 eggs</div><div>3 cups flour</div><div>2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda</div><div>1/2 teaspoon salt</div><div>2 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon </div><div>2 teaspoons ground ginger</div><div>1 1/2 teaspoons ground black pepper</div><div>1/2 teaspoon ground cloves</div><div><br /></div><div>Optional: 1/4 cup finely chopped candied ginger or candied lemon peel</div><div><br /></div><div>Coarse sugar or granulated sugar</div><div><br /></div><div>1.<span> </span>Beat together the butter and sugar. Make sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl to ensure the butter is completely incorporated. Stir in molasses and vanilla.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. <span> Stir in the eggs, one at a time, until thoroughly incorporated.</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>3.<span> In a separate bowl, sift (or mix) together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, pepper and cloves. </span></span></div><div><span><span><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span>4. <span> Mix the dry ingredients into the creamed butter mixture until thoroughly incorporated. Mix in the optional candied ginger or candied peel. Chill dough thoroughly. </span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span>5. <span> Divide the dough into four (I like to get precise with this by using a kitchen scale). On a lightly floured surface, with your hands roll each portion into a log about 8 inches long and 1 1/2 inches in diameter (they only measured 6 1/2 to 7 inches for me). Wrap the logs in plastic and refrigerate them until they're firm enough to slice. The dough can also be frozen at this point for up to 2 months.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span>6. <span> When you're ready to bake, position the oven racks in the center and upper part of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees (I cooked this batch at 325 degrees).</span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span>7. <span> Cut the chilled dough into round 1/2-inch thick slices. Dip one side of each slice in granulated sugar, and place the cookies, sugared sides up and about 3 inches apart, on baking sheets lined with parchment paper. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span>8. <span> Bake for about 10 minutes (I baked them at 9-10 minutes on the lower temp). For even baking, rotate the baking sheets and switch racks about midway through baking. When uniformly browned, take them out of the oven. Once they have cooled, store the cookies in an airtight container. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKQFal_l6mf00mSFv6gSqJ0s7_cDBEa9t0xzktUvcGPacHjMTRWEMCRPcZLVxGobawkMI-TGOe7EzFWGWcFemcT4xheTmB38MgI1938H3rY7KeIwWPBh_zPhK2iMw613mhj-rYUcWFCyYx1imF95Esg7MMZ_vmrKnPTaF0sigr0HIG0M0WeU/s5184/IMG_5001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKQFal_l6mf00mSFv6gSqJ0s7_cDBEa9t0xzktUvcGPacHjMTRWEMCRPcZLVxGobawkMI-TGOe7EzFWGWcFemcT4xheTmB38MgI1938H3rY7KeIwWPBh_zPhK2iMw613mhj-rYUcWFCyYx1imF95Esg7MMZ_vmrKnPTaF0sigr0HIG0M0WeU/w640-h426/IMG_5001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-5586984596953316682022-09-03T12:14:00.001-07:002022-09-03T12:14:32.677-07:00Letter to a Summer Associate (Me)<p> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; text-align: justify;">A
few months ago, I ran across some journal entries from summer 2004. It was the
summer after my second year of law school, and Jared was barely six months old.
We were then living in Irvine, California, where I worked as a summer associate
at a relatively small litigation firm.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; text-align: justify;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwN1f6LvQBexSEMdUkb-w4GB8Bw4j48WpaQLnIhnb8dqxClt3gJM4maqQ0QKSRZ0RC9jqH0RAlDcbM9b6DoWyTTnAZ4itdpjz7q7JqJfncAzk_ylp73HDORwkFkKqPwmEsGx2MAZ6-9TusLIiIkMBQ9-D3Mx3l_8FLOjCRI77eR5emF4NLlI/s1600/summer%20pics%20109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwN1f6LvQBexSEMdUkb-w4GB8Bw4j48WpaQLnIhnb8dqxClt3gJM4maqQ0QKSRZ0RC9jqH0RAlDcbM9b6DoWyTTnAZ4itdpjz7q7JqJfncAzk_ylp73HDORwkFkKqPwmEsGx2MAZ6-9TusLIiIkMBQ9-D3Mx3l_8FLOjCRI77eR5emF4NLlI/s320/summer%20pics%20109.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Clark Family -- Summer 2004</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Like
almost everyone in my position, I hoped the summer gig would yield an offer for
permanent employment after graduation (the following summer). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
those journal entries, I wrote about feeling nervous about an upcoming
mid-summer performance review. For several reasons, I’d had more difficulty
than most of my friends landing a summer position. And unfortunately, the
difficulty of that experience only added to some nagging feelings of
self-doubt. Also, in the first month or so of that summer job, I knew I had
apparently failed at least one research assignment for a senior associate: I
hadn’t been able to find any cases on point for the proposition he was looking
for, and he wasn’t shy about expressing his disappointment with me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">All
of that left me feeling particularly vulnerable, and I was desperate for some
positive feedback and reassurance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Whatever
I’d hoped for, though, I wouldn’t find it in my performance review. I sat with
a senior partner for about 1/2 hour as we reviewed feedback from attorneys on
my assignments thus far. At least a few of them noted that I seemed to lack
confidence in myself and that I needed “hand holding” on some projects. Some
relayed that I seemed to be afraid to try new arguments. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
most positive feedback I got was that the partner described my reviews as
“about average” for a 2L summer associate. And yet, he also observed that it
seemed I was “not meeting [my] potential.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It
did not feel like an encouraging meeting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That
performance review would gnaw at me for weeks, if not longer. It kept me awake
some nights at 3 am, followed me on morning runs, and left me even more quiet
than usual on family car rides. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">All
these years later, the incident had mostly faded in memory. But as I reviewed
those journal entries, the same feelings I confronted then rose up again. And
for a time, it felt like I was wrestling anew with all the same insecurities. I
wondered how much different I could possibly be now from that nervous summer
associate 18 years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It
took me a few days, but I was able to work through those feelings all over
again. And in the aftermath, I've wanted to write a letter to that younger
version of me. It wouldn't surprise me, after all, if a future version of me
just might need the same reassurances all over again. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dear Aaron, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I ran across your journal
entries a few months ago. I know about your mid-summer review at the firm. I
know about the trepidation you felt beforehand, and then the feedback you
received during that meeting. I know about the sleep you’ve lost over those
comments, and I know about the many, many hours of fretting and stewing that
will follow you in the weeks (if not months) to come. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m sorry. I know those comments
hurt. I know they touched on some of your deepest insecurities. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For whatever it’s worth, I have
been sitting with you in the difficulty of that experience for some time. I’ve
been trying to understand it (and you) better. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All these years later, I still
don’t entirely know why you struggled so much with self-confidence in law
school and your early years of practicing law (you certainly didn’t feel that
way at BYU). Frankly, though, I’m not sure you had it entirely wrong. You
really didn’t know what you were doing, and you were terrified of making
mistakes – of not measuring up to expectations. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You also weren’t someone who was
any good at pretending otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For better or worse, we tend to
lead with our insecurities and perceived shortcomings when we feel nervous. My
best guess is that we do this to try to keep those shortcomings in front of us
— an almost tactical decision to try to confront and disarm them. It might also
be part of an awkward effort to live with integrity. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sometimes, too, this approach
has yielded needed reassurance from others. But for some people — especially
those who don't know you well enough — that approach can be unnerving. And the
fact is, it doesn't really inspire confidence.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">With time, you will learn to do
this better (or at least a bit less awkwardly). You will even sometimes sense
that a healthy recognition of (at least some of) your shortcomings might be a
super power. And with experience, including the guidance of encouraging
mentors, you will progressively find and project the confidence you lack now.
Which isn’t say there won't still be <i>plenty</i> of days ahead when you’ll
feel like you don’t know what you’re doing (even for me now), but they’ll come
less often. And when they do come, you’ll feel confident enough that you can
figure it out. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Often that will (still) mean
asking for help.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I can say this about you: you
seem to be very good at learning from your mistakes. And you’ll manage to avoid
the big mistakes (at least so far) that you’ll worry about making for years to
come – the kind that make your stomach tighten just about every morning before
work. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I also want to offer you this bit
of encouragement: <i>You’re going to figure this out</i>. Despite your worries,
you <i>will</i> end up getting an offer from the firm for full-time employment.
And, less than a year out of law school, you’ll somehow land your dream job –
the job you’re now hoping to get “someday” – and you’ll spend at least the next
16+ years feeling like you’ve won the lottery.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Granted, you probably won’t ever
“arrive” (at least you haven’t so far). And you will always, always be in awe
of the talent, intellect, and dedication of so many of your peers. But you’ll
also learn that you can hold your own – that you really do have something
meaningful to contribute to the work, in just the way you do it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Aaron, there are lots of
challenges in the years ahead. Some you vaguely anticipate now, and some you
don’t have a clue about. But you’ll meet them – you always have. And there will
be many, many days ahead when you will feel like you’ve done good, satisfying
work. In fact, I can even promise you a handful of transcendent days – days when
you will have the distinct feeling that you are doing <i>exactly</i> what you
were meant to do with your life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But for now, if I can whisper
anything that will reach back through the years — the thing I know you need to
hear most right now from someone who knows — it is this: <i>It's going to be ok</i>.
<i>You are enough, and you’re eventually going to figure that out for yourself.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Keep after it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Aaron<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">PS – Please tell Dad one more
time how much he means to you. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-14433110699655100562022-08-21T12:58:00.001-07:002022-08-26T11:48:22.183-07:00As My Oldest Leaves For College<img id="id_cb25_5c0f_b7d1_e925" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/8WJNWM2rEsWDlcZP1xCuCRhnavaX1br2xeFqdNdxPPhxOAYKVDzT0zb-ntb3BnavIRM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 353px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_f302_cba5_6dc2_6ad3" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/7Q5U7QomRIKmQukwWc744V3YwVvizTaZ2RmC7xiBQBmJi8qUMTmPOPu8evpZc66Xs7s" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 353px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_7fc1_a50e_c9f5_9cdb" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/3j5Xk7KrcFGKW7pcS4XWfexYYy8mfSHd3vQ7iz7Bx9MXyCCm1aPfEYmAbU4YLGfHqEQ" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 353px; height: auto;"><br><br> Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-51714956115483846632022-08-21T12:56:00.001-07:002022-08-26T11:48:31.836-07:00Morning Commute<img id="id_7530_5252_712b_d212" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_Wao0-9JAUuS3zAaYEFNJrQmlypSKYuH7mixy2Wj6BPk0j6GeoNUKPiYEaWEEJpt2qo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 353px; height: auto;"><br><br> Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-37599461029458963972021-12-17T13:10:00.006-08:002022-01-05T08:36:30.413-08:00"A Christmas of Miracles"<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhA1kF0Xq77pDT0I0-ouyuGYv1uoqqSCzvz6Zv0j3bcOLboeCctFFv8KOkldPt5YZJYXBLw9ubSzSMXIwgepLrQ6dTWmKKeybCBRkVgzl1v-XznbfO_JnIOA8SlQ_l4QGPddNGlAan8Gi3JdvpdFm40idmFaeyJCQ9_MuTbjEcHzqB0GyjeKEE=s1440" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1440" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhA1kF0Xq77pDT0I0-ouyuGYv1uoqqSCzvz6Zv0j3bcOLboeCctFFv8KOkldPt5YZJYXBLw9ubSzSMXIwgepLrQ6dTWmKKeybCBRkVgzl1v-XznbfO_JnIOA8SlQ_l4QGPddNGlAan8Gi3JdvpdFm40idmFaeyJCQ9_MuTbjEcHzqB0GyjeKEE=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad, Matt, Leanne, and Alisha -- Christmas 1988</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">A few weeks
ago, we watched <i><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt11540284/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="_blank">8-Bit Christmas</a></i>. A clear homage to both <i>A Christmas Story</i>
and <i>The Princess Bride</i>, the movie<i> </i>features Neil Patrick Harris’s character
recounting to his daughter the story of a Christmas in the late 1980s when all
he wanted was a Nintendo Entertainment System. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Beyond the
80’s nostalgia, part of the fun of the movie was how close to home it hit. Ages
ago, I wrote <a href="https://forbiddendonut7.blogspot.com/2005/12/my-darkest-christmas-day.html" target="_blank">my own story</a> about the Christmas I desperately wanted a Nintendo
but was stymied by my parents. The similarities between those stories prodded
me to revisit that old post, and my curiosity eventually led me to take a
closer look at what was going on back then. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">What I found
surprised me. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">The
Nintendo Entertainment System<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">First,
there is the story that made up that initial post – though now with a bit less
tongue-in-cheek hyperbole:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">In December
1988, I was ten years old and in Mrs. Stefalano’s fifth grade class. I wanted a
Nintendo Entertainment System more than anything else in this world. A few school
friends I knew already had one, and I prized every opportunity to get my hands
on one of those rectangular controllers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2ViVqTSnHtBx-j2Tc9D1stcfYBmRVCrSsSGxmuAKnJiu2_ewkcf7OI-b0XyNGZUfIsxs6phsjT7a0zdyyejE-SE8Ph-xaUfkB6shBvRoGTXBdMlKr6GqtSv3ze_7ztroIReg5Z11zigYxlISpegy4fqfUbKMc6IAVWqm7Nh7tWMMf1XkcE3I=s700" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="700" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2ViVqTSnHtBx-j2Tc9D1stcfYBmRVCrSsSGxmuAKnJiu2_ewkcf7OI-b0XyNGZUfIsxs6phsjT7a0zdyyejE-SE8Ph-xaUfkB6shBvRoGTXBdMlKr6GqtSv3ze_7ztroIReg5Z11zigYxlISpegy4fqfUbKMc6IAVWqm7Nh7tWMMf1XkcE3I=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">I’m sure I
had other interests back then, but mostly I just thought and talked about Super
Mario, the Legend of Zelda, Mike Tyson’s Punchout, and how much I wanted (<i>needed</i>,
really) a Nintendo of my own. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">By that
point, I no longer believed in Santa (<a href="https://forbiddendonut7.blogspot.com/2006/12/5-days-until-christmas.html" target="_blank">another story entirely</a>), so I had no
illusions that he could be of any help. And I knew my parents couldn’t afford
one. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">And yet,
Nathan and I had our own modest source of revenue that winter in covering a newspaper
route, and I had conscripted my younger brother into my determined plans to
save up the $100 we needed to buy a Nintendo. I had never saved anything close
to that much money before, but by early December, Nathan and I had collectively
put together $40. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">In the wild
optimism of my youth, I figured we were only a few weeks away from saving the
rest. So, by my calculations, it seemed quite possible (if not almost certain)
that we would have our own Nintendo by Christmas!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">That was
the plan, at least, before Nathan and I snuck into Mom’s Christmas fudge. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">The Christmas
Fudge<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Back then,
Mom occasionally made fudge around Christmas time. And at least that year, she
kept it in Mason jars, stored high up in the corner cupboard of our kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Mom
probably thought the fudge was well-hidden, a mistake my parents made over and
over (and over) again growing up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Inevitably,
my little hands found their way to those Mason jars. Several times. And
unbeknownst to me, so had Nathan’s. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Back in the
80s, it was harder to deflect blame for missing food items – the rest of my
siblings were still too young to be viable suspects. So when Mom discovered the
fudge missing, she wasn’t so much sleuthing for confessions as presuming guilt.
And at least in this instance, she wasn’t wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">What felt
odd this time around (these sorts of eating indiscretions were routine, if not
expected) was just how upset my parents were. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">For some
reason, they decided this offense warranted <i>serious</i> punishment. As we
stood there in the kitchen, Mom and Dad angrily told us that Grandma Feickert
(whose presents were always the most expensive) had purchased us a Nintendo for
Christmas. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">I can
picture my eyes starting to widen at the prospect. . . before the hammer came
down: our indulgence had left them no choice – they were telling Grandma to
return the Nintendo.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">They were
also confiscating our $40 (though I believe they later let us spend the money
on Christmas gifts). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">And, for
good measure, they declared we would <i>never </i>have video games in our home.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">[My best guess
now is that they’d been nervous about video games from outset – to the extent
the movie has any basis in reality, <i>8-Bit Christmas</i> seems to confirm the
parental concern was widespread. Our eating indiscretion was simply the scapegoat
justification for what they had wanted to do all along.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">As my
parents pronounced sentence, I felt an odd mixture of wonder and despondency. The
thought that I was <i>so</i> close to having my own Nintendo – without
even having to save up for it! And then to lose it without even knowing what
was at stake!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">In the days
after, I remember feeling that the punishment felt excessive (in fact, my best
friend’s parents had privately told him the same, which felt validating). Maybe
that’s why I couldn’t help but hold out hope that my parents’ threats had been idly
made, and that the spirit of Christmas might still prevail. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Was
it possible that a late burst of Christmas cheer might lead my parents to
secretly tell Grandma to still go ahead and bring us the Nintendo? And if she did,
what games might she get us to go with it? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">As Bane
would tell a crippled Batman in <i>The Dark Knight Rises</i>, “there can
be no true despair without hope.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Disappointment
Assured<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">When Grandma
and Grandpa arrived at our Ilion, NY home that Christmas Eve, I made a careful
survey of their vehicle. I sized up every single one of their Christmas
presents. None, though, came close to
the contours of that distinctive oblong box.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Still, that
night and the next morning, I must have surveyed the presents three times. The
Nintendo just wasn’t there. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">A few days
later, I referenced the disappointment in a rare journal entry:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">“We just
had Christmas a few days ago. I got two LCD video games. A Carrom game board a
sweater and the game of life. [My best friend] got a Nintendo. I would’ve but I
ate a bag of candy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">The
Rest of the Story<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">When I
wrote that attempted humor piece sixteen years ago, Dad took the post in
stride. He had, after all, been known to do a bit of playful writing himself [Dad
would sometimes write up mock newspaper articles for friends and family, which
gave supposedly serious treatment to inside jokes between family and friends –
think of the Onion, but with a more endearing bent.] Over the years, “My
Darkest Christmas Day” became a fond source of Christmas ribbing between the
two of us. And even if my parents didn’t seem to remember the incident, Dad often
feigned an overwrought apology for the supposed parenting fail. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">For my part,
what I hadn’t remembered until these last few weeks is that this was the Christmas
just after the triplets were born.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">That year,
as late as August or early September, we all thought Mom was just carrying one
child. Then the news came that there were <i>twins</i>. So exciting! And then, about
two weeks later, we learned Mom was actually carrying <i>triplets</i>!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Hardly two
weeks later, as we were still processing this new, impending reality, I woke up
one October morning to find that our family of seven was now ten. The triplets had
come six weeks early. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSneFFvReMV8krG-XPbS_t2_laf9j_tsZ2hF_3NEv7xwwhLORr1Lo2HDhuLEuvU8b8PHg4nndIpYYQn8r8-xhQNzenIhYeGqfMRgLdnHCcyttbM9O_u1171wfbs3xRFH2CS56PMHiMq_ASbBq4nm-7P2UU-hvR0woReBe7ZCRDX6yyTXCb9UA=s2027" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2027" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSneFFvReMV8krG-XPbS_t2_laf9j_tsZ2hF_3NEv7xwwhLORr1Lo2HDhuLEuvU8b8PHg4nndIpYYQn8r8-xhQNzenIhYeGqfMRgLdnHCcyttbM9O_u1171wfbs3xRFH2CS56PMHiMq_ASbBq4nm-7P2UU-hvR0woReBe7ZCRDX6yyTXCb9UA=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathan, Melissa, Bryan, and Sarah</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Dad took two
weeks of “vacation” to assist with the birth and transition. And then, in a
twist that could have been written by Charles Dickens, he was fired from his
job with The Evening Telegram (a local newspaper) on the day he returned to work.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">As Christmas
approached, Dad was still out of work – he wouldn’t find another job for nearly
a year. Meanwhile, my new siblings seemed to each take turns with threatening health
problems that required worrisome hospital visits.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">My parents’
letters to my grandparents from that time give glimpses into the stress of our family
circumstances. In one letter in late December 1988, Mom described Sarah’s
latest ailments and wrote that “my heart is always in my mouth during these times,
and I can hardly stop watching her.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Mom
wondered if she would ever be able to relax again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">Part of
that was due to the myriad health concerns. But, of course, the other part was
money. Money had apparently always<i> </i>been tight growing up, but that year
things felt especially precarious. Even I could feel it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">“A
Christmas of Miracles”<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">And yet,
this was also the Christmas that Dad would later describe as the “Christmas of
Miracles.” In another turn that blended the best of Frank Capra’s and Dickens’
stories, our young family was almost inundated by the generosity of others that
season. As Dad would later write: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Things
began appearing on the doorsteps, coupons in the mail without evidence of their
origin, and friends from near and far seemed to find out [about our family
difficulties] and respond. In one case a group of church women from a former
community where we had lived, drove 60 miles with bundles of food and the
biggest turkey we had ever seen. [Dad couldn’t seem to help himself with his
own allusion to Dickens here]</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">I remember
one evening that December when an older couple, best known in town for playing
Santa and Mrs. Claus, stopped by our home. I remember watching them visit with
Dad in our dimly lit hallway and give him an unknown amount of cash. They seemed
to anticipate Dad’s awkward response and heartily put off his meager protests. Even
now, I can still see them standing there, and how happy and grateful they
seemed to be helping us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">When Christmas
finally came that year, far from having nothing under the tree (which had apparently
been my parents’ fear for a time), one corner of our living room was nearly
overflowing with gifts. In fact, Mom and Dad had set up a playpen by the tree for
the kindnesses left by others. By Christmas Eve, the playpen was full. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGcJSMgU0oGLpbpA5mJOgPa18J-EUu9aqhkBS1yXlei-7BW9IAbZEBwPfPpF5yWhs1nfUcpOQgosaaMRgESE3o2jw5-PPZHl7oUI_5Swt7dPcb1RowFwgHydxJnWKFlJ7ilzXwNXheddITE8giNhx8hTK8ueCP2EherGFDLP6b9J_0WE9HofM=s1404" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="988" data-original-width="1404" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGcJSMgU0oGLpbpA5mJOgPa18J-EUu9aqhkBS1yXlei-7BW9IAbZEBwPfPpF5yWhs1nfUcpOQgosaaMRgESE3o2jw5-PPZHl7oUI_5Swt7dPcb1RowFwgHydxJnWKFlJ7ilzXwNXheddITE8giNhx8hTK8ueCP2EherGFDLP6b9J_0WE9HofM=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathan -- Christmas 1988</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">So,
curiously, at the same time I remember feeling utter disappointment that my
Nintendo dreams hadn’t come true (and ostensibly never would), I also remember
now the feeling of wonder and awe that my family had been so kindly remembered
by so many. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">I can’t
really explain all these years of disconnect. Somehow both threads of memory had
occupied separate places in my mind – as though they hadn’t occurred simultaneously.
And while the “loss” of a Nintendo that Christmas was as devastating as I’ve described, it's clearer to me now that the list of gifts I received that year left me anything but deprived. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;">With the benefit of hindsight, that does not feel like a small thing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 13pt; text-align: justify;">So my
meager takeaway all these years later isn’t quite what I expected when I started
in on this post: feelings of overwhelming gratitude – for my parents (especially), for my grandparents,
and for everyone else who looked out for my family that Christmas. Sure, I didn’t
get the Nintendo I had wanted more than anything, and that felt terribly unfair.
But I can see a little better now how fortunate I was that I got to remain a little boy through it all. Despite the precarious
circumstances of those times, I still *somehow* felt secure enough at home that
a Nintendo could have outsized importance, and that losing out on that Nintendo
could be my greatest worry.</span> </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">[Update 1/5/2022: I published this piece a few weeks ago. Since then, I've discovered that I actually got my years mixed up. Apparently misreading (or failing to read) some key clues, I attributed the Nintendo incident to Christmas 1988. But now, having looked further into things, I can say definitively that the Nintendo incident happened the <i>following </i>year -- during Christmas 1989. In fact, I even found a few lines from a letter Dad wrote to Grandma and Grandpa Clark on December 12, 1989: "Sunday some things happened with the two oldest boys that finally snapped the back of everything and we have decided to forgo Christmas this year in essence, and see if we can't find someone we can give what little we will share to them."</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It certainly made for a much better story when I thought all of the events above happened in 1988, and I feel more than a little sheepish now about the error. That following Christmas (1989) Dad was only a few months into his new job as the managing editor for the Amsterdam Recorder, commuting an hour or so each way. The letter I referenced above indicates that the stresses from the year prior had only slightly abated. In fact, his writing suggests that he was deeply depressed (though I don't know that he was in a place to recognize it for what it was, or at least to not feel like that depression was a personal failing). So the sentiments I expressed above still seem applicable, the error notwithstanding.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Still, it's important to me to get these stories as right as I can, so what do I do about the mistake? I considered trying to rewrite the story, as well as just deleting it all together. Neither of those options have felt palatable, at least at this point. So for now, I've decided on this middle ground: keeping the story as is, though including this explanatory note about the error. In doing so, I feel at least some license from Dad, who offered this frequent (good natured) retort to any story that sounded somewhat unflattering or unbelievable: "Never let a few facts get in the way of a good story."] </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-48649137679296125852021-10-20T13:02:00.001-07:002021-12-19T19:34:24.963-08:00My Ten (or so) Most Memorable Movie Moments<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I <i>love</i>
movies. I think I’ve always loved them. And as I look back now, many of my life’s
key memories involve that medium, in one way or another.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I want to
write down a few of those experiences while I still have my wits about me.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As will be
readily obvious, several of these stories center on the practice of former
faith. I can’t seem to help that. For most of my adult life, my affinity for
movies tended to conflict with my religion. Like the sons of Helaman in the
Book of Mormon, I wanted to “obey and observe to perform every word of [God’s]
command[s] with exactness” [Alma 57:21]. And in the LDS church, the <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/bc/content/shared/content/english/pdf/ForTheStrengthOfYouth-eng.pdf?lang=eng" target="_blank">counsel to youth</a> (which I understood to be just as applicable to adults) was to avoid media
that contained “<i>anything</i> that is vulgar, immoral, violent, or
pornographic<i> in any way.</i>” [emphasis added] </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Taken
literally, that counsel didn't seem to leave much room for would be Mormon cinephiles
– beyond a handful of Disney/Pixar movies and Jane Austen adaptations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In fact, early
in my marriage there was concern about whether we should even have the <i>Star
Wars</i> movies in our home, because of the minimal amount of swearing in the
films. I felt more justified, though, after reading that LDS apostle M. Russell
Ballard had talked about seeing the films.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I really don’t
intend for this to be another religiously themed post, except to the extent
that the practice of my former faith has always been part of who I am. So I
offer that background simply to provide context for the tension driving a
handful of the stories that follow. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">These
memories span my first three decades of life. However trivial some of them may
present now, these moments are a part of me – a part I want to be able to
remember. And, who knows, maybe by trying to preserve these memories here, my
kids (and maybe someday their kids) will better understand some of my quirks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Honorable
Mention</span></span></u></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Honey,
I Shrunk the Kids</span></span></i></b><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">: </span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAEPMEcKzPrAcQar3dH3GXQWcAilPkoZiRQo-fXOUHo8XXHj_n9EEj7d7mEedDix5o5eoE5NEsy964inEwOJoov1bNNfBUny9P7RsGsMO8okhRazGcEREOfvAjCGXwnnG_peGEcQ/s1200/Honey+I+Shrunk+The+Kids.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAEPMEcKzPrAcQar3dH3GXQWcAilPkoZiRQo-fXOUHo8XXHj_n9EEj7d7mEedDix5o5eoE5NEsy964inEwOJoov1bNNfBUny9P7RsGsMO8okhRazGcEREOfvAjCGXwnnG_peGEcQ/s320/Honey+I+Shrunk+The+Kids.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was July
1989 – the summer before I started sixth grade. My brother Nathan and I were spending
the week at Grandma and Grandpa Feickert’s house. That week was the highlight
of our summer break. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In those
early days, Grandma and Grandpa lived on Pillar Point, in Dexter, NY. In lieu
of a backyard, their house sat up against the Black River Bay – a Lake Ontario
inlet. So summertime visits meant swimming, fishing, boating, badminton, and Wiffle
ball. Further, they meant breakfasts with the “good kinds” of cereal and,
invariably, some kind of meat for dinner. Grandpa also had a satellite dish
with a not-quite-legal descrambler. He got every channel imaginable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiby4uR0o-WnWZvv_T-14clcsng7Js9cpD3Ck7FMHCvB_B0eQ3Ajr5o3ccJ6UWnsrhEkRS2xHA_A9mbE92eUa1pf1rzciZRgzsa6bHNypGvmqNIlJaAfq14VziKQG8vjSoijLWH7g/s1048/Fishing+with+Dad.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1004" data-original-width="1048" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiby4uR0o-WnWZvv_T-14clcsng7Js9cpD3Ck7FMHCvB_B0eQ3Ajr5o3ccJ6UWnsrhEkRS2xHA_A9mbE92eUa1pf1rzciZRgzsa6bHNypGvmqNIlJaAfq14VziKQG8vjSoijLWH7g/s320/Fishing+with+Dad.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishing (with Dad) off Grandpa's dock</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But this particular
summer, Grandma also proposed taking us to the movies. I was eleven, and as
much as I'd always wanted to, I had never been to a movie theater. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So when
Grandma took Nathan and me to see <i>Honey, I Shrunk the Kids! </i>one summer
afternoon, a part of me felt like I had <i>finally</i> arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My
Cousin Vinny</span></span></i></b><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">:</span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFtlFSZorCbfe4YzbaC7fNsQJod7bzo82uUV4fWGrE9JSoNRHHkWCPZgwS7Q51zKp81bybcQ1hbCvVw-0XE63JwykOgPNW9RFrAvMioPPnF6W7VkFwClnkzj7XgFjsfsta532Bg/s1426/My+Cousin+Vinny.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1426" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFtlFSZorCbfe4YzbaC7fNsQJod7bzo82uUV4fWGrE9JSoNRHHkWCPZgwS7Q51zKp81bybcQ1hbCvVw-0XE63JwykOgPNW9RFrAvMioPPnF6W7VkFwClnkzj7XgFjsfsta532Bg/s320/My+Cousin+Vinny.jpg" width="224" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I took
Evidence at HLS midway through my second year of law school – in that awkward
winter month between semesters. Jared was only a few weeks old, so the three of
us weren’t sleeping much in those days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Following the
morning break on our first day of class, Professor Nesson announced that he planned
to show us <i>My Cousin Vinny</i> over the course of the next few weeks (in
daily<i> </i>10-15 minutes increments). </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">The movie
apparently touched on many of the evidence themes we’d be reviewing.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">His unexpected
announcement made me uneasy. <i>My Cousin Vinny</i> was rated "R"
(for language), and I didn’t watch R-rated movies. In fact, I didn’t even watch
most PG-13 movies. And yet, maybe this was different? It was for a law school class,
after all. And I was going to be graded on the class (to say nothing of the fact that
I wanted to someday be a competent lawyer).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">What was
I supposed to do? </span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I looked to
some LDS classmates across the room, hoping for guidance in their facial
expressions. Or, at the very least, signs of similar struggle. But they appeared
to be completely unphased. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the
moments before the movie began, my mind raced through all sorts of
possibilities and arguments. In the end, though, all that thinking gave way to inertia;
I stayed in my seat and watched the movie with the rest of the class. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">My inaction
brought consequences, though. As I was prone to in those days, I spent the rest
of class turning over and over my feelings of guilt. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">After class,
I felt so embarrassed. I spoke vaguely about my dilemma to Michelle, and I
avoided naming the movie in my journal. Further, rather than flesh out my inner
conflict in that entry, I quickly shifted subjects, noting only that "a
conflict erupts in my head that doesn't yet lend itself to writing." <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The next
day, as I remember things, I felt more prepared. I was determined not to endure
another self-inflicted guilt trip. So when the movie resumed, I left class
(ostensibly for a prolonged drink from the water fountain). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But after only
a few minutes, I felt <i>so</i> silly waiting (alone) outside the classroom. I kept
peeking through the windows on the doors every few minutes, looking for signs
that the movie had stopped playing. And also, while leaving class felt like the
least guilt-riddled path, I was quite curious about the movie (especially knowing
Marissa Tomei had won an Oscar for her performance). So between that, and the
valuable evidence tidbits I was surely missing, I dealt with some serious FOMO. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I couldn’t
seem to win either way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That day
(though it may have been the next), my resolve faltered. And for the remaining
weeks of that class, I stayed in my seat each time the movie resumed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It really was
a terrific and hilarious movie, and it proved to be the perfect vehicle for
Professor Nesson to transition to his own war stories from jury trials. Those
stories tended to be my favorite part of class. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But when
Joe Pesci, Ralph Macchio, and others made F-word laden jokes in the movie, I
wasn’t among those laughing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I think a
part of me hoped that my discomfort was sufficient penance. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Braveheart</span></span></i></b><i style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">:</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EukZNfXHSR2c2xIfYbPGOrTe-qHYFRgTcCk5BfhjoZ3yxDj558GPzOL0vvUTBXCPySltpjTurQRvntw_0l_njbtJvzV_rn0mp1IvTbLBlKCOhTyWC75BBfPStjFEEnTe3ymBgQ/s1097/Braveheart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1097" data-original-width="740" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EukZNfXHSR2c2xIfYbPGOrTe-qHYFRgTcCk5BfhjoZ3yxDj558GPzOL0vvUTBXCPySltpjTurQRvntw_0l_njbtJvzV_rn0mp1IvTbLBlKCOhTyWC75BBfPStjFEEnTe3ymBgQ/s320/Braveheart.jpg" width="216" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Michelle
and I attended BYU in the years after <i>Titanic</i> ruled the box office. At
least in Utah, the movie caused a bit of a conundrum for many faithful Mormons,
what with the scene of Kate Winslet posing topless for drifter and sketch
artist Leonardo DiCaprio. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">One
enterprising Utah video store found an apparent solution to that conundrum when
it offered to snip that offending scene out of people’s VHS copies of the movie
– for a few dollars.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Intentionally
or not, this gave rise to a cottage industry. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">By the time
Michelle and I were married and living in Wymount Terrace (BYU married student
housing) in 2001, a business had popped up in Provo (CleanFlicks) that offered DVD
rentals of edited movies – removing the language, sex, and violence that
faithful Mormons typically found objectionable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Rentals”
surely wasn't the term CleanFlicks was aiming for, as the company claimed it
sold “memberships.” The memberships ostensibly made its patrons part owners of
the company (and so its collection of edited DVDs). This was their attempt to
comply with copyright laws.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the end,
the CleanFlicks business model wouldn’t avoid a copyright lawsuit, which they
lost. But while it lasted, CleanFlicks was a godsend to well-meaning BYU
students like me. Suddenly, a new library of movies had opened to me, and I
felt like the proverbial kid in the candy store. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Braveheart
</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">was one
of the first DVDs we rented, and I felt almost giddy as I finally got to watch
Mel Gibson courageously lead an (edited) uprising against King Edward I. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was so inspiring!
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The next
day, before it was time to return the DVD, I decided to watch the movie a
second time. On this viewing, though, Michelle and I noticed a bawdy joke they’d
failed to edit out. The joke left Michelle, who was even more sensitive to these
things than I was, feeling rather uncomfortable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her
discomfort made me all the more uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As I
remember it, not long after, Michelle asked that we shut off the movie. I may
have half-heartedly protested (that’s certainly what I was feeling), but I had
no legitimate grounds to disagree. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Afterward,
we interpreted those feelings of discomfort as the absence of the Holy Ghost, and
we decided to swear off even most <i>edited</i> R-rated movies from
CleanFlicks. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That most tantalizing
library of movies quickly closed for me, all over again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">10.<i> <u>3:10
to Yuma</u></i><u> (2007)</u>:</span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYonNaXwL22b3-Eep1PtF5ow4toY0lJ-AC4OVtxx1u08UjTZj60QrraFUn9_xB5OKeqBJV1VaXg4jkEDjvy5Q1FKVJ2MhjB-oHXfOOAiz6wCrScsMcf4x7_fGDhblR-vdHoPvrg/s1426/3-10+to+Yuma.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1426" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYonNaXwL22b3-Eep1PtF5ow4toY0lJ-AC4OVtxx1u08UjTZj60QrraFUn9_xB5OKeqBJV1VaXg4jkEDjvy5Q1FKVJ2MhjB-oHXfOOAiz6wCrScsMcf4x7_fGDhblR-vdHoPvrg/s320/3-10+to+Yuma.jpg" width="224" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Even after
we left BYU, I remained fascinated with the edited movie industry. In fact, I
ended up writing (and publishing) my 3rd year paper in law school on the
copyright implications of the various business models. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">[I argued that
companies like CleanFlicks did, in fact, have a viable Fair Use defense, though
a federal district court held otherwise. Rather than appeal, CleanFlicks
folded].<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Clearplay
was a rival company in the industry, and it was the only filtering technology
protected by The Family Movie Act of 2005. Unlike CleanFlicks (which made
altered physical copies of DVDs), Clearplay developed and marketed a DVD player
into which one could load <i>normal</i> DVDs. The filters in the player then
muted and skipped the objectionable parts of the movie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I bought a
Clearplay DVD player in November 2008.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">At the time,
there was still the tacit (though possibly explicit) expectation that I
wouldn't use Clearplay to watch filtered R-rated movies. In fact, Michelle
thought it taboo to even have the R-rated discs in our home. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And yet, I
still decided to rent the Russell Crowe/Christian Bale remake of <i>3:10 to
Yuma</i> from Netflix (which was then dedicated to mailing DVDs). The DVD came
in the mail on January 7, 2009.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Michelle
sat with me to watch it that night, and I was quickly drawn to the complexities
of Russell Crowe's and Christian Bale's characters. Also the family dynamics
between Bale's character and his wife and sons. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But even at
the highest "violence" filter setting, the movie still had plenty of
gunplay and violent death. As she had before, Michelle grew notably uneasy,
which again left me all the more uneasy. We still finished the movie, but
afterward, I ultimately had to confess (under examination) that it was R-rated.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Michelle
was understandably disappointed and upset, and I was in the doghouse. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The next
day, I wrote Michelle a note, apologizing for my “obvious mistake in judgement”
by “letting that movie into our home – even with a Clearplay Filter.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I ended my
apology note, as well as the day’s journal entry, vowing that we would “get rid
of the Clearplay Player” and cancel our subscription.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Reader, I
did neither.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">9. <i><u>Quiz Show</u></i></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">:</span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIYgU8G4Qz6aAkbLDMpWItNueMxh6fPKgvs0bbMiHKAoLRhPcHnRLG07QiAEr7l7Cr644OviQDqNTelq5jfKl6KH56nYjPzxeENdtp9NsjjjXWy_l6UslkJ41437bEWwA5-6iwQ/s692/Quiz+Show.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIYgU8G4Qz6aAkbLDMpWItNueMxh6fPKgvs0bbMiHKAoLRhPcHnRLG07QiAEr7l7Cr644OviQDqNTelq5jfKl6KH56nYjPzxeENdtp9NsjjjXWy_l6UslkJ41437bEWwA5-6iwQ/s320/Quiz+Show.jpg" width="219" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The summer
before my junior year of high school, a basketball injury required knee surgery
– my second in as many years. That surgery made playing football unthinkable in
the fall, so I decided I'd "run" on the cross-country team instead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">All these
years later, I don't know how much of that decision was driven by the fact that
the girl I liked (and had perpetual crush on since 8th grade) was already on
the cross-country team. She certainly had <i>some</i> influence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was a
new thing that fall to be 16 (and so, by my faith's standards, eligible to
date) and have a driver's license. As I look back, I remember mostly the
awkwardness of that time. And yet somehow, I persuaded this girl to see a movie
with me one weekend. She insisted, though, that we were going “dutch” (almost
certainly to tamp down expectations that this was a “real” date).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That
Saturday afternoon, I picked her up in our family van and drove to Sangertown
Mall. We were going to see <i>Quiz Show, </i>a movie directed by Robert Redford
and starring a young Ralph Fiennes. Based on a true story, the movie centers on
a man who finds his way onto a 1950's game show and eventually gives way to
cheating. This ends up spurring a congressional investigation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The movie
was good. The company was even better. And afterward, we got soft pretzels. I
felt a small sense of pride when I finagled my way into paying for her pretzel.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It helped
me hold onto the story that it was a <i>real</i> date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Afterward, it seemed like everything had gone well enough. I thought
about little else that night and the next day, and I couldn’t wait to see this
girl again at school on Monday. My not-so-secret hope was that our outing had
moved the needle toward a more romantic connection.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But when
Monday came, she made no mention of our afternoon together. Instead, she
couldn't stop talking about a<i> second </i>date she went on that Saturday –
after I dropped her off. Someone apparently a little older (and more suave) had
taken her to see <i>The Shawshank Redemption</i>. She raved about <i>that</i>
movie. And as I remember it, she also gushed about the white roses he sent her
the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Sigh</span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A year or
so later, when I finally got to see <i>The Shawshank Redemption </i>(which
played endlessly on network TV), I felt slightly less bitter. I mean, it <i>is</i>
a top 10 (possibly top 5) all-time movie for me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And to be
fair, by then I was also exclusively dating this girl.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">8. <i><u>Austin Powers: International Man of
Mystery</u> :</i></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8QcrJAsGIjs11ZMVrpLODU2QmmgiZxaTfQMZ40o71ADaB35MZQ0m7IlGiZIJ8ffLWJ-33VUyy0xPt40Y23T_9JmtIAV7_JAmeM4cDsqbQQQ7Mikij8tsxGuqpNExOZO6sfqWUQ/s2048/Austin+Powers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8QcrJAsGIjs11ZMVrpLODU2QmmgiZxaTfQMZ40o71ADaB35MZQ0m7IlGiZIJ8ffLWJ-33VUyy0xPt40Y23T_9JmtIAV7_JAmeM4cDsqbQQQ7Mikij8tsxGuqpNExOZO6sfqWUQ/s320/Austin+Powers.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In spring
1997, I was a freshman at Utica College. As I've written about before, I was
also readying for two years of missionary service. My friend Jamin LeFave was,
too, and that shared purpose seemed to draw us closer together. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">One weekend
that spring, we decided to see <i>Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery</i>.
I can’t remember what, exactly, we expected from the movie, but it was PG-13 [growing
up, my family’s red line for movies was an R-rating]. We had also grown-up watching
Mike Myers on Saturday Night Live, and he could be so funny. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So we made
the ½ hour drive to Sangertown Mall, bought our tickets, and found seats
somewhere near the front of the theater. By this point, we’d seen a number of
movies together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Not long
into the movie, though, something felt off. Maybe it was that we were prospective
missionaries. And further, that we were both <i>sitting next to a prospective
missionary</i>, but even the PG-13 level sexual humor had me shifting
uncomfortably in my seat. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Jamin also
seemed uneasy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As I
remember it, somewhere within the first 20 minutes of the movie – during a hot
tub scene – Jamin looked over at me and asked if we should leave. I think I nodded
and said “ok,” and we clumsily got up and left the theater. We then spent an
hour or so at the nearby arcade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Initially,
I felt rather sheepish about the incident. Before long, though, that
sheepishness melted into a sense of pride. We’d always been told to “beware of
pride,” but I like to think that at least some of what I felt was the healthy
kind – an affirming reassurance after having the courage to get up and leave
when something didn’t feel ok. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">7. <i><u>Ghostbusters
</u></i>(1984):</span></span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghP0zeGyCDownPTkH3_HKkXBXxMsjvEZ5NzlLzkhwShSycs1OpeZty8fUWdjmOnWppDLvIHs21SE0s_wKT2h6v1ze7Gqyon7XCH_WOniy2KFU43gv2GRkDrYTlssvAyeQ2qH5lnA/s1500/ghostbusters-poster.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghP0zeGyCDownPTkH3_HKkXBXxMsjvEZ5NzlLzkhwShSycs1OpeZty8fUWdjmOnWppDLvIHs21SE0s_wKT2h6v1ze7Gqyon7XCH_WOniy2KFU43gv2GRkDrYTlssvAyeQ2qH5lnA/s320/ghostbusters-poster.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">For my
birthday in second grade, my parents let me invite a few classmates over for a
party. A lot of that event is hazy now, though I remember one friend gave me a toy
Bigfoot Monster Truck as a present. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">What I remember
well is that my parents rented a VCR for that weekend, and they also rented <i>Ghostbusters</i>
(on VHS) for us to watch at the party. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It felt exciting
to have something as cool as a VCR in the house, <i>and</i> to get to spend the
evening with friends, watching a rented movie at home. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">6. <i><u>The
Return of the King</u></i></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">:</span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Yls4h2EqtJJShkXGzpGWYme7mMRrO4j0qvcvbpb6dzz1bL27rlM26LOa_bA4pRW5Q8HiL3FWKakGvtYf_aAB5UmKGIBrltveC51KTtMHw1x6mMku4L0_vDpPUu410mCxIbf6tg/s2048/The+Return+of+the+King.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Yls4h2EqtJJShkXGzpGWYme7mMRrO4j0qvcvbpb6dzz1bL27rlM26LOa_bA4pRW5Q8HiL3FWKakGvtYf_aAB5UmKGIBrltveC51KTtMHw1x6mMku4L0_vDpPUu410mCxIbf6tg/s320/The+Return+of+the+King.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I’ve noted
already that, as a young adult, I often felt constrained by the letter of LDS
media standards. Most of the time, it just seemed to be my lot in life to love
movies, but to have to avoid them (at least in theaters) – especially those
driving the cultural conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So when
Peter Jackson and New Line Cinema released their adaptation of <i>The
Fellowship of the Ring</i> in 2001, and it was a <i>clean</i> PG-13 (at least
in terms of language and sexuality – orc blood and violence apparently don't count),
I fell hard for the fantasy series.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We were at
BYU when <i>Fellowship </i>released in theaters. The movie made Tolkien's world
feel immersive, while also boasting a near-perfect cast, sharp writing, and a
moving score. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I could
hardly get enough of it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I must have
rewatched <i>Fellowship </i>dozens of times when it released on DVD. And then,
only a few weeks before the theatrical release of <i>The Two Towers,</i> we
scored special tickets to watch the <i>extended</i> version of <i>Fellowship </i>in
theaters. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">By December
2003, I could barely contain my excitement for the release of <i>The Return of
the King</i>. But there was a looming potential complication: Michelle was due
with Jared around the same time. And if he came before the movie released, there
was no way we would get to the movie theater.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Honestly, I’m
not sure if I was more worried about that than the possibility of Jared coming
during finals. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fortunately,
Jared delayed his entrance long enough for me to finish final exams, <i>and</i>
for Michelle and I to catch an opening night screening of <i>The Return of the
King</i> at Boston Commons.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">For me, it
was 3 hours and 21 minutes of cinematic heaven, and I wept openly for the last
1/2 hour (through all six endings). Jared even kicked during parts of the movie.
We decided that meant he was also fan.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly now,
he couldn't care less about the movies. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">5. <i><u>Rocky
III</u>:</i></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DLFMbynvpCT1wiJRLa7rgcgq3juireX6LZFPhIaTirGtooKtJTXAJ2JAXQ8R-wJUDS4Pbw1GCsrl2CZQ52-ZmLB3v8kW-qVKiEmkce6qxi3sKQjFF0-rUebxR9_G4_q3ynNRZw/s2048/Rocky+III.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1579" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DLFMbynvpCT1wiJRLa7rgcgq3juireX6LZFPhIaTirGtooKtJTXAJ2JAXQ8R-wJUDS4Pbw1GCsrl2CZQ52-ZmLB3v8kW-qVKiEmkce6qxi3sKQjFF0-rUebxR9_G4_q3ynNRZw/s320/Rocky+III.jpg" width="247" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the
summer of 1986, my family made the long trek from Upstate New York to Grandma
and Grandpa Clark's house in Burley, Idaho – for a Clark family reunion. I
hardly remember all the driving, but I have lots of memories from the reunion. The
most impactful for me was probably when a cousin pulled out a VHS cassette (from
Grandpa's collection) and showed us <i>Rocky III</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DhznfOK5J4mOYh1x8YjxA_DY4o9sVu07sXfbb_oH4HqC1jdXsoPgYVl279ounSx9cd9z_OfMo78tDqS-CAAvNys7SMVCv3YYvee82hq8k_LPf4b0y_eF0MtuwGCmVefLRgJwbg/s985/1986+Idahto+Trip+Reunion.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="985" data-original-width="972" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DhznfOK5J4mOYh1x8YjxA_DY4o9sVu07sXfbb_oH4HqC1jdXsoPgYVl279ounSx9cd9z_OfMo78tDqS-CAAvNys7SMVCv3YYvee82hq8k_LPf4b0y_eF0MtuwGCmVefLRgJwbg/s320/1986+Idahto+Trip+Reunion.jpeg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eye of the Tiger, Baby!</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was
eight, and I had never seen anything like it. The freely flowing testosterone,
the pumping soundtrack, the training montage, the <i>almost</i> comically
menacing villain in Mr. T, and the quick redemption arc aided by a former
nemesis (Apollo Creed) – I was in love. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That
afternoon in Burley, Idaho opened my eyes to the genre of hyper-masculine 80's
storytelling, and I would never be the same. I hadn't realized anything could
be <i>so</i> cool. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was the
greatest thing I had ever seen in my life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">4. <i><u>Wait
Until Dark</u></i>: </span></span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEMI4JbQ9dxQf51YerVhPVcU2Yehr47enUpvkm3yrTLag97bKRDtvm-UVzRPSDmM2L1ZoLWWea8jIMkHzoCc7tOyQQdde2-Nhb9A_5Efl6H8N5dXlwZdeKRIP61xm0O6PLAOwZg/s632/Wait+Until+Dark.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEMI4JbQ9dxQf51YerVhPVcU2Yehr47enUpvkm3yrTLag97bKRDtvm-UVzRPSDmM2L1ZoLWWea8jIMkHzoCc7tOyQQdde2-Nhb9A_5Efl6H8N5dXlwZdeKRIP61xm0O6PLAOwZg/s320/Wait+Until+Dark.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the fall
of 1999, I was a recently returned missionary and new student at BYU. Michelle
and I had just started dating a few weeks before. I had yet to hold her hand. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Michelle
suggested we spend a Friday evening at BYU's Varsity Theater, to catch a
screening of the 1967 thriller <i>Wait Until Dark</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Michelle
had seen the movie before; I hadn't. After a drug transport goes sideways, the movie
follows Audrey Hepburn (playing a recently blind woman) as she’s unwittingly
put in precarious circumstances in her own apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That night,
though, a pivotal moment in the movie frightened me so much that I nearly leapt
out of my chair. . . and into Michelle's lap. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In an endearing
way, we laughed about that moment for years afterward. I think it's my
favorite movie moment with Michelle ever. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And a day
or two later, I finally had the courage to ask if I could put my arm around her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">3. <u><i>Creepshow
2</i></u>:</span></span></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIyL5QwINOrG9vogL0KPBp4GdPWzj7IwPn0379dmKpwRjX-VLiAm7-YH7O4UZLX4slQQu3IbNlcZuIPvoOOvjZ8Q7eCKpHJmREgRpDiONjzTQCxxZkM2VEP2ykGrlgTaE1Vg4GA/s1500/creepshow-2-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="990" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIyL5QwINOrG9vogL0KPBp4GdPWzj7IwPn0379dmKpwRjX-VLiAm7-YH7O4UZLX4slQQu3IbNlcZuIPvoOOvjZ8Q7eCKpHJmREgRpDiONjzTQCxxZkM2VEP2ykGrlgTaE1Vg4GA/s320/creepshow-2-1.jpg" width="211" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I think I
was in 2nd or 3rd grade, possibly 4th. My friend Jeremy, who I’d gotten to know
in 1st grade in Mohawk, NY, had invited me over to his mom’s house (in nearby
Herkimer) for a sleepover. It was for his birthday party. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I think
this was my first sleepover.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don’t
remember if it was just me spending the night, or if there were a handful of us
boys. But we were left mostly to ourselves for the evening, in Jeremy’s living
room. Maybe it was always the plan to watch movies, but I know I was surprised
when Jeremy put on <i>Creepshow 2</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It’s hard
to retrace some of my steps that evening. I don’t know if I protested. I don’t
know if I would have even thought to protest. I just remember feeling terrified
through each of the three short stories in the horror film: a murderous blob in
a lake, a vengeful Native American statue, and a hitchhiker who torments the
woman who hit him with her Mercedes (and drove away). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Jeremy seemed
to be used to this stuff, but he could apparently tell I was scared. [Maybe I
had said something, or maybe I just had a fixed look of terror on my face.] So
after the movie was over, he suggested another film to help put my mind at
ease: <i>American Ninja</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That movie
was also rated R, but I think movie ratings were entirely over my head at the
time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">American
Ninja </span></i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">offered
a welcome distraction from the horrific images of the last film, but I could still
feel those images lurking. And as soon as it was time for sleep, they came
back. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything else. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The
terrifying themes and visuals from <i>Creepshow 2 </i>would replay over and
over in my mind for years afterward. Usually in disturbing detail. In fact, all
these decades later, I can still recall – seemingly with perfect clarity – some
of the scariest moments from that movie. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">2. <u><i>Snow
White</i></u> (1937):</span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVrNBrxKqpxqZrQB3V45tKkqxe-EY_Um7rw4CzPDUdSpk8xFkjcDHXPVwc_mRuQJ8lmZvLbM9cEqA-p68WpIJf7yUfRnRxsQEzhzXxnSkuSKmVc6qEi0RU0jOvejQIfNdeLraIg/s675/Snow+White.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVrNBrxKqpxqZrQB3V45tKkqxe-EY_Um7rw4CzPDUdSpk8xFkjcDHXPVwc_mRuQJ8lmZvLbM9cEqA-p68WpIJf7yUfRnRxsQEzhzXxnSkuSKmVc6qEi0RU0jOvejQIfNdeLraIg/s320/Snow+White.jpg" width="225" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We were
living in Oswego, NY, which means I was in kindergarten, possibly younger. I
must have seen a television commercial for the re-release of Disney's <i>Snow
White</i>. I asked Mom if we could see it. Mom turned me down, which didn’t
feel surprising. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sometime
later in the day, though, I learned that we <i>were</i> headed to the drive-in
theater, at sundown, to see the movie. And what's more, Mom was also making ice
cream cone cupcakes to take on the outing!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">At the
drive-in, I don't remember much of the movie. I remember Dad fumbling to get
the car radio tuned to the movie station. When he couldn’t figure it out, he
left for the service desk. I remember Mom figuring out the radio before Dad
returned (with a radio in hand from the service counter). I remember blankets.
I remember those ice cream cone cupcakes. I remember Mom and Dad decided against
staying for the double feature (and since the movie wasn't animated, I didn't
care). <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is my
first real memory of childhood wish fulfillment, of having everything my little
heart could ever possibly want. It is still one of my favorite memories ever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Since
becoming a parent, I can't tell you how often I've tried to create that same
feeling for my kids. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">1. <u>The
Dark Knight </u></span></span></i></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">:
</span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWvi7eHm7i99SwzzlaygBLmXa1bh-l8VddAqe2njKC2nXNEN7V6pAx4jVXHKmlPhZ0lSB2uWnyVdfiWN1Fw1iYH7b7Czzq8gKWgXA39Slt-x1JP5AHytt3cTITlzQprAAQMCDkw/s450/The+Dark+Knight.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="287" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWvi7eHm7i99SwzzlaygBLmXa1bh-l8VddAqe2njKC2nXNEN7V6pAx4jVXHKmlPhZ0lSB2uWnyVdfiWN1Fw1iYH7b7Czzq8gKWgXA39Slt-x1JP5AHytt3cTITlzQprAAQMCDkw/s320/The+Dark+Knight.jpg" width="204" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">When <i>The
Dark Knight </i>released in theaters, we were still relatively new to San
Diego. Even so, by that time I was then a counselor in my <i>second</i> San
Diego bishopric in as many years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It would be
hard to overstate how much I had loved Christopher Nolan's prior film, <i>Batman
Begins</i>. A grounded superhero movie with an unusually strong (and clean!)
script, compelling cast, and deeply memorable score – I was a full-on fanboy,
and I was not ashamed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">By this
point, I followed movie news closely, and I had been keenly aware – for years –
of the hype surrounding Nolan's anticipated sequel. This included scouring
articles for assurances that the language and sexual themes in <i>The Dark
Knight </i>would stay consistent with <i>Batman Begins. </i>My hope, of course,
was that the sequel not cross boundaries into non-viewable territory. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">At the
time, we were still just as reluctant to allow most PG-13 movies in our home,
and even some PG movies (depending on the language). But Michelle had also enjoyed
<i>Batman Begins</i>, and <i>she</i> was excited for the sequel, too. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The
internal trouble for me began in a week or two before the movie's release. Reports
emerged that <i>The Dark Knight</i> pushed the boundaries of PG-13 violence,
and some had even relayed that the movie more appropriately deserved an
R-rating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Those
reports made my stomach sink, and it resulted in one of the great internal
conflicts of my adult life – another conflict I would "fail."<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I kept these
news reports to myself and plodded forward with plans to see the movie with
Michelle. In fact, I had agreed with a good friend from work that we'd trade
nights baby-sitting each other's kids. This allowed us both to attend the movie
with our respective wives.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">About a
week after its release, Michelle and I finally got to see the movie, and I was
awe struck. It was violent, yes. And Heath Ledger's Joker was genuinely
terrifying. But it was also <i>amazing</i>! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And yet, watching
that movie came at a cost, one I tried keeping to myself initially. I would
later open up about it, though, in a particularly candid journal entry on July
27, 2008. I share the relevant part of that entry below:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">I should
finally record here, too, something I have been struggling with all week. Surely it shows me to be a fool.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Last
Sunday during the administration of the Sacrament, I felt something troubling
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked the Lord to help me figure
out what it was, and what I might do about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The direction came very clearly, “Do not go see <i>The Dark Knight</i>.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rarely
has counsel been as unwelcome, and while I hesitantly acknowledged it in my
planner, I put it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to see
this movie, and I was going to see this movie.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That
counsel set off a war inside me that tormented me all week. I agonized over it
in just about all of my free thinking, though it was a depressing agony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that by watching the movie I would be
specifically disregarding a prompting I had solicited (though indirectly) and
received from God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, I still went
ahead and reserved tickets.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">All
things spiritual suffered this week because of my resistance and outright
defiance in the face of this counsel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
I read more about the movie, I saw more reason for the prompting: while a very
fine movie, it was exceedingly violent – so much so that many expressed
surprise at the PG-13 rating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this
was not enough to sway me.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I told
no one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were a few early mornings
where I came near to having the courage to follow God's counsel, only to
abandon it later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each morning I
recognized the struggling seemed to grow more faint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was not because my arguments or
justification had [gotten] any better, but because the Spirit would only
contend with me so long before departing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All of the anxiety left me miserable before we'd even watched the movie:
Having my heart set against that particular counsel was enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Yet
still I would not make myself strong enough to keep it.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Obviously
we went through with it and watched the movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The movie was engaging, engrossing, thrilling, complex, dark, and
violent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found I could not recommend
it to others – I did not want them thinking I was ok with the violence – and
that I even felt slightly ashamed to admit that I'd watched it.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">The
violence still haunts me, but it's the disobedience that has caused me such
misery in recent days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt that
keenly today as it seemed like it might be some time before the Lord can trust
me again with His promptings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
ashamed, and I am left without excuse.</span></span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the
aftermath, I did end up feeling spiritually dead inside for several weeks. And
in that difficult space, I couldn’t help but puzzle over why God was apparently
so upset with me and not others. I wondered because so many others within the
faith seemed perfectly able to watch and enjoy the movie with no hint of God’s
displeasure – with no apparent spiritual consequences. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But at the
same time, the punishment seemed consistent with God as I knew him at the time.
I mean, in a sense, I had sold at least some of my spiritual birthright for a mess
of (cinematic) pottage. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">At one
point, I even informally "confessed" the whole incident to my bishop
and good friend. I remember him responding
with sensitivity and curiosity, though he couldn't entirely mask his amusement.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It took a
while for me to move past that incident. And it significantly impacted my
relationship with the movie in the years afterward.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I’m glad to
see that memory in a different light now. From this new vantage point, I still feel
great compassion for the younger version of me. But mixed with that compassion,
there’s also now a healthy dose of my own amusement. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-28587075888357301542021-06-25T16:10:00.001-07:002022-08-26T11:48:09.083-07:00Alone at Sea<p><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica;"> </span><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 24.0pt;">Alone At Sea</span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Alone in my little ship<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Tossed with bois’trous
waves and wind<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">He rests in hinder part
asleep<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And wakes I know not
when.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">‘Neath cloudless skies we
set the sail<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And at his pleasure
journeyed hence<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Our aim the other side to
pass—<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">He felt so near me then.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The ship now full, He
sleepeth still<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Whilst I labor sore
afraid<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Through years of troubled
seas and dark<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Few mem’ries linger of
the shore<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The wet and gloom drain
aching limbs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I feebly cling to stern
and oar,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Ever watchful for his
stirring<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">‘Mid fear He wakes for me
no more.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Wake, Dear Master! Wake!
I perish!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Rebuke the winds and
waves and dark<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">E’en thy censure would I
cherish<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">To sense thy hand ‘gainst
tempest’s roar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">he did not wake.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">he left me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">To face the threat’ning
storms alone<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I kept a faithful watch
(and wept)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Confused why he had gone<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Years later now, and still at sea<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And somehow yet my ship
afloat<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I chart my own course
toward the shore<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">In view of others’ kindly
boats<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I doubt now if he ever
was —<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">That he was near at even
tide<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">And yet,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">I shouldn’t mind to see
him there<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">When I reach the other
side.</span></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-10815851839996660642021-06-25T09:58:00.003-07:002021-10-05T16:20:03.027-07:00Apostate<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i>Steve Rogers (Captain America): For as long as I can
remember I just wanted to do what was right. I guess I'm not quite sure what
that is anymore. And I thought I could throw myself back in and follow orders,
serve. It's just not the same. <o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i>…. <o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peggy Carter: The world has changed and none of us can go
back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to
start over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i>- Captain America: The Winter Soldier</i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_6e29_f8f2_d591_6bc5" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBzt6gQthzbmfMG2SpuBQ6C_0UO167buBUsesbK_FJgSO1wivpEY_lzaJp54WSIT9ORUgTnGeny5wlN3bWcHqNxXxgdgzyjtSJOi2d4bBJFMWhjU7xgNwRSTZT1rJgntliZdRmXw/s1600/Clark+Family+2018.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" id="id_668f_43c6_f13b_7025" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBzt6gQthzbmfMG2SpuBQ6C_0UO167buBUsesbK_FJgSO1wivpEY_lzaJp54WSIT9ORUgTnGeny5wlN3bWcHqNxXxgdgzyjtSJOi2d4bBJFMWhjU7xgNwRSTZT1rJgntliZdRmXw/s320/Clark+Family+2018.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Clark Family 2018</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In my prior post, I detailed the process of losing my faith
in Mormonism. In this last chapter in the series, I describe the often
difficult aftermath of the last few years — disentangling from the faith and also trying to find my footing in the wake of a shattered worldview.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Apostate</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In Latter-day Saint parlance, the term “<a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-topics/apostasy?lang=eng" target="_blank">apostasy</a>” generally
refers to the spiritual state those who “turn away from the principles of the
gospel.” The church has also more <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/church/news/church-statement-addresses-priesthood-doctrine-questions?lang=eng&_r=1" target="_blank">pointedly described it</a>
as “repeatedly acting in clear, open, and deliberate public opposition to the
Church or its faithful leaders, or persisting, after receiving counsel, in
teaching false doctrine.” My guess is that most in the faith see those
two definitions as synonymous.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The corollary term “apostate” (someone in apostasy) in
Mormonism has historically lumped a wide range of individuals into the same
broad category:</span></p>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">con
men who prey upon their congregation(s);<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">sexual
predators;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/September_Six" target="_blank">historians</a>
whose research threatens the church’s correlated narrative;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">same-sex
marriage participants (<a href="https://nymag.com/intelligencer/2019/04/same-sex-marriage-isnt-apostasy-lds-church-decides.html" target="_blank">at least from 2015-2019</a> — though there has been word in recent weeks that the excommunication of wedded, active same-sex couples
continues);<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.abc4.com/news/local-news/former-lds-bishop-excommunicated-over-podcast/" target="_blank">podcasters</a>
who expose the lies of church leaders; <o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/mormon-womens-group-founder-kate-kelly-excommunicated-n138746" target="_blank">vocal advocates</a> of female ordination;<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">former
bishops who <a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/mormon-activist-excommunicated-sam-young_n_5ba000bde4b04d32ebfb4bc6" target="_blank">publicly lobby</a> to stop the church practice of one on one
closed door interviews between youth and male priesthood leaders (that
often involve probing questions about the youth’s sexual activities);<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Couples who <a href="https://wheatandtares.org/2019/04/25/excommunication-of-cody-and-leah-young/" target="_blank">start Facebook support groups</a> for those who have lost their faith in the correlated
version of Mormon truth claims; and<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/marriage-family-and-sex-therapist-officially-notified-of-excommunication-from-lds-church/ar-BB1fUopg" target="_blank">Licensed sex therapists</a> who advocate masturbation as a normal part of maturation
and sexual health, and who endorse same-sex marriage.</span></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I further have memories, as a missionary, of using the term
“apostate” to describe missionary behaviors that were against the mission
rules, and as a label for those missionaries who wantonly broke those rules. It
was an epithet to describe the unfaithful.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Now, it apparently describes me, too.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Two Callings to One</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In late March 2019, I was balancing two callings — youth
Sunday School teacher and elders quorum service coordinator.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A little more than a week after reading the CES Letter, and
with the weight of the world pressing down, I sent a carefully worded text to
the elders quorum president (the head of adult male priesthood holders in the
ward) begging off my coordinator responsibilities. I cited “personal issues”
that I didn't want to talk about.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It worked; he released me without asking for details.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This was the same day (March 31, 2019), that I spent
Sacrament meeting outlining the beliefs I had hoped to hold onto at the time
(which I included in my last post). As I was searching feverishly for spiritual
foundations, that was also the day I remembered the incident I referenced in my
first blog post in the series: getting a blessing from Dad, when I was a little
boy, for help not to be scared of the image of Medusa in my head.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At that time, it felt like the only spiritual experience in
my memory that I could trust, and that wasn’t much.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That next Sunday, now a few weeks into my world feeling
shattered, Michelle and I finally decided to loosen up a little: we informed
the kids they could now change out of their church clothes after Sunday
meetings.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They were floored by this welcome news.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Grandpa Feickert’s Death</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In mid-May 2019, my Grandpa Feickert died. Family members
texted of tears and Grandpa’s happy reunion in heaven with Grandma (who had
died roughly 14 years prior). As I noted in my journal that evening, I <i>hoped</i>
that was true: “I really want to believe that. It’s a good thought.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I felt my stomach tighten, though, when Mom asked me to give
some spiritual remarks at the graveside service. What could I possibly say that
would be honest, authentic, and helpful, given my recent difficulties?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the end, I found a loophole (I <i>am</i> a lawyer): as we
surrounded Grandpa and Grandma’s grave in New Jersey, I framed my brief
remarks around what I knew<i> they </i>had believed about the future that
awaited them in death. I could readily talk about that.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSq9M2txl7_XK8EMICxbCxl2uGkPh4t1kXaqnoSl4Cz1erZjXKBUkhwk6eupYhnNVFB4taf7lNc9AhQ6xNdah-_o8JYqqa_dJYr7DvCQ9KNkCLYVDouxYZ3Pb9OhopRQ30mqasQ/s2048/Grandpa+F+Funeral+3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" id="id_956f_b761_9239_dd" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSq9M2txl7_XK8EMICxbCxl2uGkPh4t1kXaqnoSl4Cz1erZjXKBUkhwk6eupYhnNVFB4taf7lNc9AhQ6xNdah-_o8JYqqa_dJYr7DvCQ9KNkCLYVDouxYZ3Pb9OhopRQ30mqasQ/s320/Grandpa+F+Funeral+3.jpeg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakbOgdm2zVMRGhtOhxGz0xWh_8O1AOvy-ssWxvKmbvmzHyFKb-5RykA8g8Y4yZmTcNhTHrp-fsWvtkACCL4b2RZ_WywW73DJCP0Hy0jZM9cXm1m8Jeo0mQIWjLvnvOKkMo4dhsQ/s2048/Grandpa+F+Funeral+2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" id="id_8e7f_5550_31f6_e00b" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakbOgdm2zVMRGhtOhxGz0xWh_8O1AOvy-ssWxvKmbvmzHyFKb-5RykA8g8Y4yZmTcNhTHrp-fsWvtkACCL4b2RZ_WywW73DJCP0Hy0jZM9cXm1m8Jeo0mQIWjLvnvOKkMo4dhsQ/s320/Grandpa+F+Funeral+2.jpeg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">No one seemed to bat an eye at the fact that <i>I</i> had
not borne testimony, beyond expressing a hope for that same future.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On that trip, too, I found that I was now really interested in my
uncle’s (Mom’s brother’s) perspective — who had never joined the faith — on
what it had been like to watch as the rest of his family converted to Mormonism.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It made for an evening of treasured conversation, conversation that
probably wouldn't have happened if I had still felt a defensive, vested
interest in Mormonism.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I also came dangerously close that evening to telling Mom
about my faith crisis. If I had had 20 more minutes alone with her, I probably
would have.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Skipping Church</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On May 19, 2019, I intentionally skipped church for the
first time. It was almost entirely because I didn’t want to teach or
participate in the planned Sunday School lesson on “defending traditional
marriage” (i.e., preaching <i>against</i> same-sex marriage). I was open about
that with Michelle, but I leaned on a different, plausible excuse with my kids.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After everyone else left for church, I committed a second
heresy by spending those hours at the gym.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Describing the experience that evening, I wrote, “It was a
different experience being [at the gym] with everyone else on a Sunday morning.
I didn’t mind it too much.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Searching for Sunday</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The next Sunday, I attended church with a renewed enthusiasm
to focus on the “good” parts and connect with God. But during Sacrament meeting, I felt my frustrations growing. This is what I wrote in my notes as I
sat there that day:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s a cruel kind of irony now on Sunday mornings to
want so much to connect with God and nurture tender feelings of faith, and to
feel so frustrated in that purpose at church. Sometimes now just by being there
— by something said or done that’s now in conflict with an evolving sense of
what is “right” or “true” or even “good.” Or by something not said. Or memories
evoked. And to leave feeling notably worse than before. And, on the whole, to
feel you actually had a better chance of finding what you were looking for (if
it can now be found at all) by avoiding church all together.</span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The next Sunday, our friends the Shaws opted to skip church
for a Sunday morning hike. I was openly jealous.</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That same month, June 2019, the world mourned <a href="https://people.com/human-interest/rachel-held-evans-dies/" target="_blank">the tragic and untimely death</a> of Rachel Held Evans, a Christian
writer who had experienced a faith crisis with evangelical Christianity. Her
book about that experience, <i>Searching for Sunday</i>, had resonated with me
as I tried to navigate similar territory in Mormonism. And her funeral (with
her youth pastor memorably describing Evans’ “zero tolerance for
inauthenticity”) left me aching to believe, too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha26O8V4DzhwGQCz5NLAAKQm3rqXqCT_eQRqlhSiB-EKzho3M07QFjahtnv4z-Z65cFdtCoisyYAHhJHud5TKEarZb675IngtCUSfye_C8WkBEIIQ8FxpsC7qwjykg3ndgXdrO5w/s1050/Searching+for+Sunday.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1050" height="320" id="id_db46_c7be_5756_779e" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha26O8V4DzhwGQCz5NLAAKQm3rqXqCT_eQRqlhSiB-EKzho3M07QFjahtnv4z-Z65cFdtCoisyYAHhJHud5TKEarZb675IngtCUSfye_C8WkBEIIQ8FxpsC7qwjykg3ndgXdrO5w/s320/Searching+for+Sunday.jpeg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I came away from her funeral and writings inspired to keep
moving toward faith. Even if, during that same timeframe, I described my
prayers as feeling “emptier, drier than they [have ever been].”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A few days later, I even wrote out this thought:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Isn’t there a place for doubters like me in the church —
doubters who want to be authentic and still try to believe, doubters who still
want to be like Jesus?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">In Dreams Awake?</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That night, I had a memorable dream. Grandma Feickert
appeared to me, but she couldn’t stay long. I held her hand and felt it. She
loved me.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then I “woke up” and walked into the other room. Grandpa
Feickert was there.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For those few minutes, I felt elated: I had <i>definitive</i>
personal proof of life after death!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But then I really woke up, and I was sad to realize it was
all a dream.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">“You’re not even really there, are you?”</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By mid-June, preparing authentic Sunday School lessons for
the youth was testing the limits of my honesty and integrity. The subject
matter was the New Testament, but I wasn't sure I even believed in the divinity
of Jesus anymore (even if I still wanted to be like the version of him
described in the New Testament).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I started to feel internal pressure to ask for a release
from that calling as well. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was also growing frustrated with God’s
continued silence. In one journal entry, I described an angry prayer that began: "<i>You're not even really there, are you?</i>" </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But then I quickly followed that "I wanted them to be there. I want someone to be angry at, rather than just talking to myself." I <i>really</i> didn't want to feel alone, and I couldn't understand why God would leave me:</span></p><blockquote>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Where do I go from here? Maybe They [I had started
referring to God in the plural, thinking of Heavenly Mother, too] want me to be
brave. Maybe there is nothing, and we’ve created an elaborate story because
we’re afraid of death and don’t want to be alone. Maybe there’s a good reason
They feel so distant now, after years of relative nearness. Even though it’s <i>now</i>
that I could really stand to feel Their presence, to have that reassurance of
Their hands in my life. <i>Now</i> when I feel as desperate as ever and seem
wisened to the tropes and mechanisms that seemed to bring Them near before, but
which feel exposed now.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Meeting With the Bishop</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A few days later, I met with the bishop — he wasn’t willing
to release me from my Sunday School calling without a meeting.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My stomach was in knots in the days leading up to that
visit. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When we finally met, I told him that I needed a release from my teaching
calling as I had “pretty much lost my faith.” I told him I wasn’t sure it would
ever come back. I did my best to carefully describe why that was without saying something that could unnecessarily injure his faith.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He responded with empathy, but mostly just listened. Gratefully, he
didn't pretend to have answers.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He did offer counsel at one point to stay with the
scriptures as I kept searching. I pushed back, though, telling him I had been
doing that, and that it <i>still</i> felt like God had abandoned me when I
needed him most. Also, by that point, reading scripture had started to feel
oppressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I told him that the ground kept crumbling beneath me to the
point that I was now openly questioning whether God was real, and it was awful. Tearfully, I told him how much I wanted for God to be real.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The bishop did share his own testimony of God, of Jesus’s
Atonement, and of the Book of Mormon. He even observed that he didn’t see how
the Book of Mormon could have come about except by God.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">[I avoided the temptation to mention he sounded <i>exactly</i>
like me just a few months before.]</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But he also told me that he wanted me to feel like I belong
and that I was welcome. No matter what.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That meant a lot at the time.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">A Blessing and Confession</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Two days later, my sister Sarah was in the hospital. My
brother Matt reached out to me, offering to drive me down to the hospital to
help give her a priesthood blessing. I felt trapped by the invitation, and it
was a rough experience for me to “pronounce a blessing as the Spirit directs,”
as I had diminishing confidence there was a God, and that this God had authorized me
to pronounce inspired blessings in his name.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I did the best I knew how, but it felt so fake. And for me,
there is almost no feeling more horrible [the experience of trying to give
inspired blessings was hard enough even when I believed].</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_70fa_65e7_1deb_9f6e" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSWC3vqhoXLuJfwRA_L3pP7yIwvenb8mUd_jD9c-G5FWHyUeuCjCVjrPb_zwCTh2f8gt16igrih4Pxpqk4CuWIwnj79AVQZiwBql4CmcHZIRAaYDCjFVJDKgtWAPusZVhAOHP3zQ/s2048/Me+and+Sarah+2021.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" id="id_9a1e_181f_7a49_d7f6" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSWC3vqhoXLuJfwRA_L3pP7yIwvenb8mUd_jD9c-G5FWHyUeuCjCVjrPb_zwCTh2f8gt16igrih4Pxpqk4CuWIwnj79AVQZiwBql4CmcHZIRAaYDCjFVJDKgtWAPusZVhAOHP3zQ/s320/Me+and+Sarah+2021.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span>Me and Sarah - 2021</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mom was there, looking on. She offered to give me a ride
home, and I realized this was probably the time to tell her — I was
already tired of feeling like I was living a lie.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So a few minutes into that drive, I swallowed hard and did
one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I told Mom I had something difficult to tell her. I started
with the fact that I’d been to visit the bishop and asked to be released from
my teaching calling . . . “because I don’t think I have any faith
anymore.<o:p></o:p>”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">[Mom would tell me toward the end of that drive that my
setup led her to think that I was about to admit to an affair. When I asked if
the <i>actual</i> news (losing my faith) was better or worse, she laughed
nervously, but didn’t respond. Honestly, the aftermath has left me with the
clear impression that confessing to an affair would have, in a twisted sense,
been the more comforting of the two options for her.]</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I tried to lay things out for Mom in a generalized way, I
instinctively had the sense that I was on trial: I was presenting my case for
legitimacy and acceptance. [Whether warranted or not, this would be the case <i>every
</i>time I “confessed” my loss of faith to someone that I was close to.]</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mom became quiet, cautious. During that 35-minute drive, I
only remember her asking me one question: was my lost faith the result of my
marriage difficulties?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I really didn’t think so. If anything, my difficult marriage had
made me cling <i>tighter</i> to my faith.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I tried to convey that I had found myself in this space,
ironically, by trying to follow Jesus. I was doing the best I knew how to be
“true,” and to do what's right.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That didn't seem to register.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I also felt the need to assure her I hadn’t <i>done</i>
anything — I was still worthy of a temple recommend, and I didn’t have a secret
list of commandments I was anxious to break. I told her that I wanted to believe
in something, and I desperately wanted reassurance I would see Dad again. But
those feelings now conflicted with my sense of integrity and authenticity.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I told her that, mentally and spiritually, I was in an awful
space. I felt like I didn’t have <i>any</i> spiritual anchors now that I could trust.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mom was uncomfortably quiet for much of the ride, and I
could tell that her guard had gone up (even if I could also tell she was trying
as best she knew how to be supportive).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I heard concern in her voice when I referred to “Mormonism” — my use of the term already putting a clear distance
between me and the faith. Also when I told her that I <i>hoped</i> that these
“good” yearnings within me — for fairness, kindness, love, and integrity — were
evidence of God within me, but that I couldn’t rule out they were simply an
internal evolutionary mechanism.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At my mention of “evolution” Mom made an audible note to
herself, as if keeping a list, that I was now talking about “evolution.” I felt a growing distance from her, even as I was trying to draw nearer. I couldn’t seem to do anything about it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mom did talk hopefully about the idea that I was
simply going through “a phase.” And, at one point, she seemed to be reassuring
herself (more than me) by observing that my doubts didn’t
negate “ultimate truth.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She counseled me not to “do anything stupid” that would
“close any roads” [e.g., have that affair]. I assured her I wouldn’t.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As we pulled up to my car, I felt like I had been talking
the entire time but hardly explained myself. Things felt incomplete, and I had been anxious for a reassurance that never really came.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I stood outside her car and leaned into the doorway and <i>begged</i> her to ask me further questions in the
coming days — I really, really wanted to be understood.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Two years later, she’s never asked me anything about it
again.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">A Disappointment</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the immediate aftermath of that difficult conversation, I
felt relief. Telling her hadn’t been <i>horrible</i>, and with disclosures to Mom and
the bishop, I figured the hardest parts were over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe they were, though I had vastly underestimated the
difficulty still in front of me. After all, I <i>still</i> hadn’t talked to my kids, nor any of
the hundreds of other people I knew in the faith. Those people included many
loved ones and close friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The extent of that remaining difficulty would become clear
early the next month.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Following Michelle’s performance in a community play in
early July 2019, I was outside the auditorium catching up with a friend who was then in our ward’s new bishopric. As we talked, I realized he didn’t know about me and where I was at
spiritually (I had asked the bishop not to tell anyone about me, and he kept his word). For all intents and purposes, my friend thought he was still speaking to
that version of me fully in the faith.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In that moment, I realized that I was <i>still</i> living a
lie. And I felt keenly how disappointed this friend would surely be to learn
the truth.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I continued our conversation, it occurred to me that this
Catch-22 — living a lie vs. the sure disappointment of the truth — would follow
me <i>everywhere. </i>It would play out again and again with everyone in the
faith that I had ever known.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I wasn’t used to disappointing people, and realizing this
was my new reality felt thoroughly depressing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Internal Battles</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By mid-July 2019, my journal entries more fully reflected a
shifted internal battle: I was no longer trying to figure out if the church
could be true (it wasn’t). I was trying to figure out if I could even
authentically believe in a version of the Christian God.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In my reaching for those answers, I felt drawn to some
unlikely sources. In fact, one of the most helpful during that time was Oprah
Winfrey's podcast, “Super Soul Conversations.” Oprah always left me
feeling good and hopeful, and some of the people she interviewed felt
incredibly helpful in pulling me toward God.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrzfSxrA2AMYoYJAwGkL_vzM5RIURCDd3pcc-dY7HvL7KQKxSWIf9G5Cisx-jDwxLXBewp7KaEyI7PIpaSnfF6gaqvRQedqiugOuVNDbkvNh2wDkVcPr_eFNujvmcXyyMMMf_Cg/s474/SuperSoul+Conversations.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="474" id="id_46f1_2d5e_14cd_2a9f" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrzfSxrA2AMYoYJAwGkL_vzM5RIURCDd3pcc-dY7HvL7KQKxSWIf9G5Cisx-jDwxLXBewp7KaEyI7PIpaSnfF6gaqvRQedqiugOuVNDbkvNh2wDkVcPr_eFNujvmcXyyMMMf_Cg/s320/SuperSoul+Conversations.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For instance, after listening to her podcast one morning, I wrote of feeling like “I'll be able to settle into a belief in God that I can hold onto.” In those hopeful moments, I viewed my desires to be “good” as evidence of him. And I would even go farther to posit that maybe my past spiritual experiences still had meaning — “maybe despite the church rather than because of it.” </span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But for as often as I felt such optimism, there were at least as many days when I described feeling “so low,” “empty,” “hollow,” and “lonely.” Where once it seemed like I’d had evidence of God in abundance, his absence (especially <i>then</i>) could leave me feeling like I was rummaging through the scrap heap, just hoping to find any lingering traces of him.</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">The Temple Recommend</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Throughout this time (actually, through all of 2019), I was
still attending church, though the dynamic had changed. There were moments when
certain hymns still brought good feelings, but otherwise messages about the
restored gospel, the Book of Mormon, modern prophets, missionary work, the “covenant path,” or almost anything outside of Jesus (who,
notably, almost never came up — except in passing or with impersonal allusions
to “The Atonement”), felt triggering.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">More often than not, church left me feeling anxious.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So I got used to checking out and focusing on other things
during the meetings (thank goodness for smart phones!). Eventually, though, I
began ducking out of the 2nd hour entirely.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One thing that had weighed heavily on me was what to do
about the temple and my temple recommend. The church places a <i>heavy</i>
emphasis on remaining “worthy” of the temple, and I had clearly
internalized that message. As estranged as I was becoming from orthodox
Mormonism, it was still difficult to think of not having (or being worthy of) a
temple recommend.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Whether it’s intended that way or not, the temple recommend
is a status symbol in the church —<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a
marker of faithfulness and 1st class citizenship in the kingdom of God. Letting go of it would also mean that, if my
children chose to marry in the temple (or if they chose to serve missions and receive
their temple endowment beforehand), I wouldn’t be there with them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I agonized over this. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One day, though, I remembered one of
the questions of the temple worthiness interview: “<i>Do you have a
testimony of the restoration of the gospel [restored through Joseph Smith] in
these the latter days</i>?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I knew that I didn’t. And I knew that I wasn't willing to
lie about that. Suddenly, the decision became very easy: I was already “unworthy” to enter the temple. There was nothing more to agonize
over and decide.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It surprised me how much peace that clarity brought me.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">More Wrestling</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By early August 2019, I began to feel like<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
lying to my children by not telling them where I was at, and by holding onto orthodox
practices that I no longer believed in. On August 7, 2019, I wrote that I was "wrestling with when and how to tell the kids
about what's up."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A few days later, Michelle and I at least started that process. After church on August 11, 2019, we took each of our
kids aside for a brief chat. We wanted to emphasize to them that we were learning
to think for ourselves (as opposed to having the church do our thinking): <i>we</i> would decide what was best for our family.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In our discussion with Jared, then 15, I ended up telling
him that I was no longer comfortable giving priesthood blessings. He,
understandably, grew upset and pressed me about why. I vaguely admitted I had problems
with Joseph Smith, but I tried assuring him I was still trying to do the “right” thing — I just wasn't sure what that was.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This expression of good intent wasn’t enough to comfort my
son, and he remained angry with me afterward. He would even confide to Michelle
that I clearly wasn’t trying hard enough.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The next day, though, he sent an unexpected text, assuring
me that things were ok: he just wanted our family to “do what's right and
be like Jesus.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Opening Up to a Friend</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In mid-August 2019, I exchanged emails with my close friend
Christopher Beesley (then in the stake presidency in our old San Diego stake).
In response to his general queries, I confided:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I have all but lost my faith. The church, for me, is
not what it claims to be. And I'm further struggling with notions of God and
Jesus. So pretty much just about everything that's been important to me.” </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After I sent it off, I realized how heavy a thing I’d done, and I spent the next several hours agonizing over how he’d respond.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fortunately, Christopher would text me in the early
afternoon, referencing Captain America’s line near the end of <i>The Winter
Soldier</i>: no matter what, he was "with [me]. . . to the end of the
line."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That response brought me to tears. I knew he meant it.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Coping Mechanisms</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">During this time, my early mornings at the gym were
breeding grounds for existential crises. The irony was that those early
morning hours used to be when I felt nearest to God — when I could discern him most
clearly. Now, though, I spent the time ruminating on the implications of
losing my faith entirely. That possibility, which felt inevitable on my worst
days, was soul crushing and threatened to rob my life of all the meaning I had
ever hoped to find in it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I wasn’t the best at handling this added stress. One of my
chief coping mechanisms has always been food — lots and lots of sugary food
(there is a reason my site is titled “The Forbidden Donut”). Which, of course, has almost always left me feeling <i>far</i> worse. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And yet, I felt almost helpless to stop it.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Mormon Stories</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">During these months (and for awhile afterward), one of the
greatest comforts was hearing the stories of others whose experiences with the
faith were similar to mine. This is where podcasts like Mormon Stories (a long running podcast that now mostly features interviews of those who have left Mormonism) felt
like a life preserver, helping to keep me afloat.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In this regard, I keenly remember <a href="https://www.mormonstories.org/podcast/anthony-miller/" target="_blank">Anthony Miller's</a> Mormon
Stories interview in August 2019. It is several hours long (for better or
worse, they <i>all</i> seem to be that way). As I listened to Miller describe his own faith deconstruction, and his pain and disillusionment with Mormonism, I had to hold back tears a few times — his story felt like my own. He also seemed to have, eventually, found some peace.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Miller’s story (and others’) helped me feel I wasn’t alone.
And they reminded me that, even in really dark times, there <i>is</i>
comfort in realizing that yours is a <i>shared</i> grief — that you are not the
only one trying to manage feelings of loss, or to navigate disillusioned
uncertainty.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Telling the Kids</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In late August 2019, it felt like time to tell my kids, at least about me (Michelle was still trying to figure out what kind of relationship she wanted to have with the church). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
we got home from church one Sunday, Michelle and I gathered everyone around the
kitchen table. The kids grew apprehensive at the prospect of a serious
discussion. I told them what I’d been telling everyone lately: that I
didn't believe anymore, that I didn’t think the church was what it claimed to
be, and I wasn’t sure about God and Jesus.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I told them that I wanted to believe, but I just didn’t know.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jared flashed an unexpected grin and boasted that he’d
already known what I was going to say. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Emily and Natalie, though, were torn up
at news. Emily burst out in anger at me. Natalie, meanwhile, responded with
instant, anguished tears: “<i>This means you won’t go to the Celestial Kingdom?</i>!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She then asked meekly if this also meant we wouldn’t be
together as a family in the next life.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was a piercing question from my little girl, but I had
expected something like it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I tried to reassure Natalie that if God <i>was</i> real, I
couldn’t imagine him keeping us apart. I was, after all, just trying to do the
best I knew how with the information I had. I also tried to convey how much I
loved them, and how much I just wanted to do the right thing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Remarkably, my answer seemed to put Natalie immediately at
ease. I saw her whole body relax, and she dried her tears. She then hugged me
and told me it was ok to believe what I wanted.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Emily softened, too, and also hugged me.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The rest of that afternoon and evening, the kids peppered me
with questions about what I believed and didn't believe now, and the
implications of that shift (i.e., what could they now get away with?). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Meanwhile, because Michelle hadn’t said anything about herself, the kids had the impression that she was still fully “in” the faith — she was still one of them. So they would confide in her with questions and observations they weren't quite comfortable sharing with me. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was an emotionally draining day all around.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Proactive Steps</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After telling the kids, it felt like time to be more
proactive and alert key people in the ward. I texted our home
teacher/ministering brother (someone assigned in the ward to look after our
family) to let him know where I was at.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I also explicitly told him we wouldn’t mind his continued
visits.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He responded that he loved our family, and that felt
comforting at the time. But then he would never again try to set up another
home visit. For someone who had faithfully visited us prior to that (and
whom we had considered a good family friend), the absence was notable.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I also set up a meeting with the elders quorum president. I wanted to set boundaries over how the ward dealt with my family going forward: We didn’t want our family discussed in ward council; we didn’t want to become a ward project or subject of concern (I had been in enough council meetings to know what that looked like); we didn’t want the kids to be treated any differently. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We wanted, too, to have a modicum of control over the narrative.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">During this meeting, I wondered openly if there was even a place
for me now (as a doubter) in priesthood meetings. I had felt out of place for some time, but I still rather expected the same
unqualified reassurance the bishop had given me months before.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That wasn’t <i>quite</i> the response, though. In a tone that seemed
like it was meant to be encouraging, this good man assured me that I could <i>certainly</i> come, sit silently in the back of the room, and “just listen.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was taken aback, but I tried not to show it (I got the sense that it hadn’t even occurred to this man that he had said something potentially hurtful). As introverted as I am, I used to enjoy participating in quorum meetings with questions and comments. But since things had fallen apart, I felt like I couldn’t (or <i>shouldn’t</i>) participate — no one comes to church to have their faith challenged by the disillusioned. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The elders quorum president now seemed to be confirming this: I was welcome to attend. . . so long as I remained silent.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I also asked if I could continue as a personal minister to
my neighbor and his family. Given how hard it is to get people to make regular
visits, I expected he would <i>welcome</i> this continued engagement.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But he surprisingly nixed that, too. Ministering is a priesthood responsibility, and he cited my discomfort
with giving priesthood blessings.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In a way, that proved to be a great relief to me, especially
when I realized that I didn’t need the church’s permission (or a calling) to
make sure I was there for my friend and his family.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After our meeting, the only thing still tethering me to the
faith was my actual membership: I no longer had <i>any</i> responsibilities.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Growing Frustrations with God</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In late August/early September 2019, I was still trying to work out whether I could believe in God, though all that “work” continued against the backdrop of his pronounced absence. For someone who really wanted to believe, God’s silence was incredibly frustrating. And, as I wrote in my journal entry on August 28, 2019, it didn’t make any sense — especially if the idea was that his silence was part of
some “test”:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve tried thinking through this morning why a perfect
and loving God would make it so hard to figure out if he’s even real. [Life is]
hard enough even if we were to know [he is real]. And if this life were meant
as a test, why are the rules of the test, the material we’re being tested on,
what the test is and how it’s supposedly scored, <i>and even whether it’s
really a test</i> — why would this all be made so hard to discern? And why
would there be such disparity of opinion and belief on these matters amongst
those who sincerely want to figure this out?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p></blockquote>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I still had the occasional hopeful moments, but they had become rather sparse. A few days later, I noted this about one of my still regular prayers: “My
prayers included the observation that it didn’t seem like God was there — that
if He was, I couldn’t understand why He would do this to me.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Efforts to “Help”</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In early September 2019, certain members of my family, and
even some in our ward, reached out to send me conference talks, or
quotes from church authorities. This unsolicited material came because the people who read these materials were “thinking” of me and thought the materials might “help” [usually this kind of language is code for when someone feels they’ve been prompted by the Holy Ghost].</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I knew these people meant well. In fact, for many years, I
used to do the same thing. But now these efforts felt more frustrating than
anything. None of those sending me stuff had taken any time to even ask about
where I was at spiritually, <i>much less try to find out why</i>. And yet, that
didn’t stop them from sending me things they thought would “help.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For me, it was akin to a doctor prescribing treatment for a
patient without ever bothering to ask what was wrong, without ever trying to
find out where it hurt and why. In medicine, that would be considered clear malpractice. But in the faith, too many traffic in certainties about those who
leave without ever bothering to talk to them (apparently with the idea that the Holy Ghost can tell them what they need to know).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If these friends and loved ones had asked, they would have
known that I was probably <i>far</i> more familiar with these talks and quotes
than they were. And they might have learned why I now found them completely
unhelpful.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But precious few ask.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So, shortly thereafter, I emailed my family asking them to
<i>stop</i> sending me such things — at least until they had taken the time to
understand where I was at and why.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">A Last Ditch Effort at Prayer</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I believe I stopped praying regularly in mid-September 2019. The day before had felt particularly taxing, and I ended up going
to bed a little after 7pm.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">[Going to bed that early has almost never worked out the way
I hoped it would.]</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By 1 am, I was wide awake, still exhausted but unable to get
back to sleep — not with all of the heavy things on my mind. I finally got up
around 1:30 am.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The moon was so bright, and I went outside to take it in. It
was too cold, though, to spend more than a few minutes out there.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So I came inside and sat on one of our reclining chairs in the
living room. In the darkness, I prayed aloud, thoughtfully, deliberately,
slowly:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i></i></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">I want you to be there...</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">I want there to be someone to thank for the kindness of
my circumstances...</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">I want there to be someone wiser than I am, and
infinitely more perfect, that I can rely on and trust...</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">But you seem to be gone. You have left that corner of the
room where I used to find you...</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">And I can't understand why you would do that to me.</span></i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As with all my other prayers in the six months prior,
this one, too, met with silence. I didn’t even want anything from him — just some indication that he was still there. But even that seemed to be too much to ask for. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the minutes after that prayer, still in the darkness of those early hours, I moved past the point of frustration; I now felt resigned to his absence. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Since that night, I have experimented with prayer once or
twice, but that was the last time that I <i>really</i> tried. For as often
as I had sung (and believed) the hymn, “Where Can I Turn for Peace?”, this god I had worshipped so fervently — this god I had felt so keenly in my
naivete — no longer “reach[ed] my reaching.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was about time to move on.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">“I really miss believing”</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A few days later, I noted that “I really miss believing,” but I had started to wonder if all of my spiritual experiences “were just the result of some version of the placebo effect.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not long after (I believe during a
Sacrament meeting), I started to think more critically of my experiences with god. It seemed to me that “god” was probably little more than a construct I had used to talk to and teach myself. And suddenly, some things made much more sense: </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Who he is or becomes for us — for mankind — seems to
almost always be who we think he is; who we think he should be. So he’s
vengeful and jealous in the Old Testament. Polygamous in the Doctrine &
Covenants. That seems to be why god is always fitting in with what we think or
want him to be. Why he was so demanding and withholding of approval in my early
years. And why he’d become much more loving and understanding in these later
years.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">These desires for good — to be kind, to reach out to
the marginalized — might not really be god after all but just the product of
empathy, of allowing other people (and their pains and difficulties) to become
real to me. Otherwise, how did so many others throughout history screw things
up so horribly?</span></p></blockquote>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By mid-November 2019, I had mostly settled into the space I
find myself now. In a text exchange with my brother Bryan, I described myself as “an agnostic, leaning toward atheist.” Given my experience, it was the only conclusion that felt intellectually honest.</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">A Walking Shadow</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To say I had “settled” into agnosticism does not
at all mean that I was at peace. The truth is that
confronting the likelihood that there was no god left me in a dark, dark place.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I felt a profound loss of meaning. And though I was desperate to
fill the gaping hole left by my former faith, I also felt inherently skeptical
of anything offered up as a purported replacement; <i>I was not about to be
fooled again</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My journal entries for most of 2019 and 2020 actually reflect a
persistent depression (the pandemic didn’t help), which I frequently tried to assuage with cycles of binge
eating and striving for drastic changes to my physique. Those cycles tended to compound my difficulties.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In this reframed reality, life felt so much more precious to me —
<i>it was all I had</i> — but at the same time, almost completely meaningless. Death felt so much more terrifying now, but then I also grappled with the nagging feeling that nothing I did between now and then really mattered (though it was still important not to screw things up for my
kids and other loved ones). I felt all the more anxious to hold
onto my life, but I couldn’t get
past the feeling that what I was trying to hold onto
meant so little now.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Twenty-five years since Mrs. Williams’ high school English
class, and I could only <i>now</i> understand Macbeth’s description of life as a “walking shadow” that might be “full of sound and fury” but ultimately “signify[]
nothing”:</span></p>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,<br />Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,<br />To the last syllable of recorded time;<br />And all our yesterdays have lighted fools<br />The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!<br />Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,<br />That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,<br />And then is heard no more. It is a tale<br />Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,<br />Signifying nothing.</span></blockquote></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The more anxiously I searched for something to hold onto —
something to reassure me this dark view of reality was <i>not</i> accurate —
the more I felt stuck with it. So the early mornings of
existential crisis continued. Also a few evenings curled up in a ball on my
bed, sobbing. And there were many moments where these thoughts stopped me in my tracks and took my breath from me (and not in a good
way).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Pandemic Upheaval</span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As we rolled into 2020 (before the pandemic became our reality), I decided to stop attending church entirely. Michelle still wanted to go, since she found value (and had a voice) in the community, and she was still playing the organ for ward services. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This meant our kids now had the option to stay home with me or go to church with her.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I would not have minded the peace and quiet, but the kids increasingly opted stay home. [Michelle and I had made a point to allow the kids to hold onto their faith — we would support whatever level of activity they chose, and we were careful to not purposefully tear down any of their beliefs. We would, though, answer their questions honestly. The girls claim now they never really believed, that they were quickly delighted by my loss of faith. Which, ok. Jared was the most cautious of the three. For several months, he continued to attend seminary, and that meant he would sometimes challenge me on points of doctrine and church history, though he had never been ok with the church's treatment of those identifying as LGBTQIA. Eventually, though, as he did his own research (outside the correlated materials), Jared, too, grew disenchanted with Mormonism. He’s a sharp and sensitive kid who asks great questions — he is so much farther along than I was (on so many things) at his age.] </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That same month, January 2020, I went public with my loss of faith — here and on Facebook — as I reflected on the five year anniversary of Dad’s death. It felt important to me to be open about things, especially given how public I had been before about my former faith.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A few in the ward, including that friend in the bishopric and the neighbor I had ministered to, responded beautifully. They were appropriately sad, but they assured me that my loss of faith would not change our friendship. And perhaps most important: their interactions with me since have confirmed that. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Meanwhile, the pandemic ended in-person services around March 2020. That gave Michelle a forced reprieve from her organ calling and allowed her to experience Sundays without meetings. It seemed to surprise her a little how much she did <i>not</i> miss church, and she began commenting on how this “day of rest” now <i>actually</i> felt restful and enjoyable. She certainly seemed much more relaxed. Our family started doing Sunday brunches and hikes, and it felt like a whole other world opened up for us to have an extra day in the week. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Counseling</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The pandemic did take its toll, though. I was already feeling a loss of community in retreating from the faith. And then, as I was forced to stay at home for months on end, the isolation tended to further feelings of depression.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Eventually, in mid-2020 (so several months into this blog
project), I sought out counseling for help with those persistent dark feelings in connection with my faith transition [it turns out there's a cottage industry in
the coaching/counseling business for helping people transition away from
Mormonism.] I had wanted help for awhile, but it was another thing entirely to actually
make calls and set up an appointment. I just wasn’t sure what real “help” would even look like. How could a counselor or coach help me
find “meaning” or provide better answers to my questions? And did
that require trusting a different kind of authority figure?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I noted above, I desperately wanted guidance, but I also
wasn’t just going to trust those who purported to have it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I eventually landed with Jana Spangler, of <a href="https://www.symmetrysols.com/jana-spangler" target="_blank">Symmetry Solutions</a>. She is among several in that group that specialize in helping people through faith transitions.
Ironically, Jana is a practicing Mormon, though perhaps one of the most <a href="https://www.mormonstories.org/podcast/contemplative-mormonism-jana-spangler/" target="_blank">nuanced</a> Mormons I've ever known.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>In our first session together, she listened carefully to my
story and wept with me. </span>As part of that story, I talked about feeling like I
was staring into the abyss. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She told me that was ok.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I told her, though, that I felt <i>stuck</i> staring into the abyss — I couldn’t look away. And all that staring left me anxious and
fretting, in part because I wondered if something was wrong with me. She told
me that was ok, too, and nothing was wrong with me; it was actually an
important part of the journey.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>In fact, she suggested it was part of my own “inner
wisdom”</span> telling me to wrestle with the lack of meaning in my life. She suggested
that I listen to, and learn to trust, my inner voice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In other words, she was telling me trust<i> myself. </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Why did that feel like such a foreign concept?</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In our sessions together, we explored <a href="http://leaderresources.org/assets/images/Youth/Fowler_FaithDev_chart.pdf" id="id_a253_417b_5c75_701" target="_blank">Fowler’s stages of faith</a>. She also had me read Richard Rohr’s <i>Falling Upward</i> (whom she’d
studied with) for his discussion of first and second half of life spirituality.
Rohr, a nuanced Catholic priest who embraces mysticism and contradiction,
suggested that 2nd half of life spirituality (which many Mormons never get to)
is about wrestling with paradox and teasing out something greater. He offers
the idea that it is all part of a grander adventure we are meant to set out on
— that there is some <i>greater</i> meaning on the other side of this new
quest.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZq6-roEFO7DlAZv1TwDduF0yQXcBu7yR0vuQosjY1RUfJGYiJckuYTby-lyRttbPKfv_24H3BD6M6EZ4WaTlabhwuOb2FtSsuOybsTzbNlYx6MRW79St-v76z4swxMhhnolCkw/s2048/fallingupward.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1463" height="320" id="id_ab86_efac_b447_9aa5" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZq6-roEFO7DlAZv1TwDduF0yQXcBu7yR0vuQosjY1RUfJGYiJckuYTby-lyRttbPKfv_24H3BD6M6EZ4WaTlabhwuOb2FtSsuOybsTzbNlYx6MRW79St-v76z4swxMhhnolCkw/s320/fallingupward.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 229px;" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There was a certainly a beauty and pull to Rohr’s ideas, but
I honestly had a hard time making sense of them. I had an even harder time
trusting the setup of Rohr’s paradigm: it seemed, after all, to assume a belief in god. And why should Rohr know better than anyone else if god is
real? Better than me? And if his paradigm was accurate, why couldn’t he explain it to me in a way
that I could understand?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When I reluctantly shared these criticisms with Jana, she
seemed almost delighted. I hadn’t expected that. But then again, one of the
primary themes of our work together was to learn to trust myself, to follow my
natural curiosity, and to <i>notice</i> what's happening inside me (with far
less judgment or assessment than I was used to).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She pointed me toward secular Buddhism and suggested I might
find it helpful. I really did. The “<a href="https://secularbuddhism.com/the-four-noble-truths/" id="id_25d5_c1e0_faf_70f7" target="_blank">four noble truths</a>” of Buddhism
offered a reframing of life that felt real to me in a way that the prosperity
gospel of Mormon Christianity never had [e.g., Mosiah 2:41: “And moreover,
I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those
that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things,
both temporal and spiritual. . . .”].</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There wasn’t any particular magic to our sessions, though
there <i>is</i> an almost magical quality to feeling truly understood, especially by
someone who has walked where you have. She pointed me to several helpful
resources that broadened my understanding and interests. And, perhaps most
important, she helped me strip away much of the judgment I (often unwittingly)
harbored toward myself and my efforts to figure things out (e.g., that my
experience seemed to be so different — more devastating — from almost everyone
else I knew).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I came away from our 4 sessions with a growing confidence in
myself and my ability to navigate this new terrain. Which is not <i>at all</i>
to say I felt any lasting release from the emptiness of that liminal space,
though there <i>were</i> moments. And, here and there, I began to have mornings
when I was not working through an existential crisis. And sometimes,
though there were still plenty of lows, I eventually felt the occasional high.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Those “highs” showed up most often in the form of
gratitude — for what has been and for what remains. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Resigning Membership</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I’ve noted above, in disentangling from the church, I had tried to be open and
up front with people. We had also tried to set boundaries with how we wanted the church to interact with our family.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But as time wore on, and especially as my kids stopped attending meetings and activities, we noticed more and more “rescue” efforts from ward members/neighbors. While we still had healthy interactions with several people from the ward (Michelle especially), it also felt like we were becoming a project for at least a few of the ward auxiliaries. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps most emblematic of this was when the ward mission leader stopped by, with the missionaries, at Christmas time to sing to us and drop off a gift. This after we had already received a neighborhood gift from the mission leader’s family.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course everyone meant well, but that dynamic bothered us. We didn’t want our interactions with
neighbors to be colored with even the possibility that their kindness was part
of an effort to “rescue” us (bring us back to church activity). And
yet, by leaving our names on the church rolls, I felt like I was tacitly
complicit with these continued efforts.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I grew more disaffected from the institutional church (with what I saw as harmful doctrines and practices), it also bothered me that I would be included among the
number of church members announced at general conference (yes, that’s a thing). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Remaining on the rolls, for me, implied that I believed in it, at some level. I
did not.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So in early 2021, after <i>yet another</i> knock on the door to encourage my kids’ attendance at some ward activity, I made the decision to resign my membership. We decided, too, that we should remove the kids from the rolls. They were in total agreement by that point, but Michelle and I also didn't want the church following them around into adulthood (because it would if they remained on the rolls). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If they want to rejoin as adults, now fully informed about the problematic aspects of the faith, they can certainly choose that. But in the mean time, having brought our children into the faith without much choice in the matter, we felt we owed them a clean break.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Michelle took a bit longer to
submit her resignation. As I alluded to above, a big part of why she wanted to stay was to be a continued voice, <i>within</i> the faith, for those on the margins. But as many of us who have left can attest, that can be a hard position to hold — especially when your voice cuts against the correlated materials and the people in power. After she met with the bishop (to discuss how to talk about and treat those who leave), it became clearer to her that her voice really wasn’t as welcome as she had hoped it would be. And then, after BYU sought to <a href="https://www.fox13now.com/news/local-news/byu-students-behind-unofficial-y-lighting-say-it-wasnt-a-protest" target="_blank">distance itself</a> from a pro-LGBTQIA display put on by some students, she decided she no longer wanted her name associated with the faith — the faith was causing too much harm to the very people she’d wanted to stay to be a voice for.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For those unfamiliar with high demand religions, the church makes the process of resigning one’s membership unnecessarily cumbersome. I'll avoid my tale of myriad frustrations in that process, though I’ll note that bishop was understanding and accommodating. That meant a lot to us.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps mostly because the church makes it out to be such a huge deal, we felt a certain heaviness to signing and sending off our resignation letters. But the more time and distance we put between ourselves and the church, the better we’ve felt about our decision.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Wrapping Up</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I conclude this project, I battle the nagging feeling
that I need to have some grand reconciliation — a deeper meaning beneath the
surface of the feelings of depression and emptiness that still linger occasionally. Or that I need to describe having found a thing that’s better (or at least commensurate) to what
I’ve lost.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I wish I could.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But if I’m being honest, after 40+ years in Mormonism, I’m
really just at the beginning stages of finding my way forward. I get the sense
that’s ok. In fact, I heard former Mormon <a href="https://www.mormonstories.org/podcast/catching-up-with-john-larsen-2021/" target="_blank">John Larsen</a> say that, in general, one should expect
this unwinding process to take at least one year for every decade in the faith.
By my calculations, that gives me at least another two years before I should
start to worry.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the meantime, if I have found any secure footing, it
seems to be in moving toward kindness, courage, and integrity. Despite all the
turmoil of the last few years, those values have remained constant. And I’m
happy to report that I don’t seem to need god or religion to still feel drawn
to them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course, I fall short of those ideals all the time, but
that’s nothing new.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It occurred to me this week that, in a real sense, I’m still
“put[ting] [my] trust in that Spirit which leadeth to do good—yea, to do
justly, to walk humbly, to judge righteously.” [D&C 11:12]. It’s just that
these ideals have increasingly put me at odds with Mormonism. Yes, there <i>is</i>
still a great deal of good in the church. But, as someone else has observed:
The things that are good about Mormonism are not unique to Mormonism. And the
things that are unique to Mormonism, far too often, are not good.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In this post-Mormon space, I have tried to make peace with the
idea that this life is all there is — that the only thing I am guaranteed is
the moment I’m living right now. As I noted above, this perspective <i>does</i>
make life feel more precious now than I had ever felt as a believer (when I
pined away for a future heaven). Candidly, though, this added value in the
present sometimes becomes yet another stick to beat myself with — when things already feel hopeless and empty; it tends to compound feelings of depression.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Often in those low points, the best I can think to do is remind
myself of Viktor Frankl’s stirring observation in <i>Man's Search for Meaning</i>:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men
who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of
bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that
everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human
freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to
choose one’s own way.</span></blockquote><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sometimes that’s enough to rouse me out of the doldrums: the idea that when
all else fails, I can still choose kindness, integrity, and gratitude.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But then, while it feels necessary not to shy away from
those difficult feelings, it’s also important to note that they don’t always
carry the day. In fact, they seem to have less of a presence the farther along I get on this path. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Also, in many, many ways, my circumstances have improved
significantly in recent years.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My marriage is in a much better place. Michelle and I have
gone through this process together, and I feel a healthy connection to her that
was elusive for most of our years before (and not just because our Sundays are much improved). </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I have a closer relationship with my kids, and some of our
candid post-Mormon discussions with them have felt priceless. My kids are
learning to think for (and trust) themselves, and it brings me some peace to
know they’ll grow into adulthood without much of the baggage that Michelle and
I carried with us from Mormonism.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I also feel notably less anxious now than I did two years
ago. Or even a year ago, when I started this project. That’s not so much
because I've found the satisfying answers I’d been searching for. Mostly it’s
because I'm adjusting to (learning to make peace with) the unsatisfying
answers that I’d feverishly tried to avoid the last few years.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We humans can be resilient that way.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There are days now when I feel an almost childlike wonder at
learning new things (as opposed to the years when I had to fit all new
information into the Mormon paradigm). I am particularly intrigued by the
psychology of belief and the workings of the mind, especially as they relate to
my former convictions. And I’m further fascinated by what it takes to <i>shift</i> one’s deeply held convictions, especially in the face of confirmation bias,
belief persistence, and the backfire effect.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You could say that I still chase after a kind of
“spirituality,” though it takes continued work not to equate that word with how
I defined it as a Mormon (i.e., obedience and rule following, as well as a
pursuit of the metaphysical and supernatural). Meditation has largely replaced prayer
for me. And, as I noted above, I find meaning in a secular Buddhist approach to
life and suffering. At the same time, I remain intensely skeptical of anything
approaching “woo woo” spirituality and mysticism.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I see that skepticism as healthy. If there is a god, he gave me the ability to think critically. And I cannot subscribe to the idea that he would expect me to set his gift aside to be able to know him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My skepticism aside, though, I feel more drawn than ever to
want to connect with others over deeper questions of belief and the nature of
reality — especially with those who can
make genuine space for my loss of faith.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It helps now that I feel less need to defend a particular
worldview.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It also helps that there’s a part of me that’s still searching, that wants to learn, and that (at least theoretically) is open to
having my understanding turned on its head once more — even as I feel increasingly
grounded in my own journey and conclusions.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I crave and deeply appreciate the moments in life when I
detect genuine vulnerability in others. And at the same time, I’m learning that
my own vulnerability won’t always engender the understanding I hope for. The farther along I get on this path, though, the less need
I feel to justify myself, or to win the acceptance of those who aren’t inclined
to respect (or who feel threatened by) my efforts and conclusions.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If nothing else, this project has helped me appreciate and
make peace with who I am and where I’ve come from. It has also helped grow my
confidence in who I want to be going forward.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>And it seems like, in telling my story, I’ve helped at least a</span> few others feel a
little less alone in theirs. It has certainly helped me connect with many others with stories similar to my own.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Speaking of hopes, I hope I have several more decades (at
least) to stick around in relatively good health. I do want to make the most of
whatever time I have left — <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/51108-emily-does-anyone-ever-realize-life-while-they-live-it-every" id="id_32df_a5cc_1196_5881" target="_blank">to realize life while I’m living it</a>. I hope to fill as many days as I can with kindness,
compassion, gratitude, understanding, purpose, love, contentment, laughter,
good food, and perhaps even a few moments of unbridled joy.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And who knows: maybe, against all hope and probability, I’ll
be pleasantly surprised when I get to the other side.</span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 24pt;"><br /></span></u></p><p style="text-align: center;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 24pt;">Alone At Sea</span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Alone in my little ship<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Tossed with bois’trous waves and wind<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">He rests in hinder part asleep<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">And wakes I know not when.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">‘Neath cloudless skies we set the sail<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">And at his pleasure journeyed hence<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Our aim the other side to pass—<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">He felt so near me then.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">The ship now full, He sleepeth still<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Whilst I labor sore afraid<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Through years of troubled seas and dark<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Few mem’ries linger of the shore<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">The wet and gloom drain aching limbs<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">I feebly cling to stern and oar,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Ever watchful for his stirring<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">‘Mid fear He wakes for me no more.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Wake, Dear Master! Wake! I perish!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Rebuke the winds and waves and dark<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">E’en thy censure would I cherish<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">To sense thy hand ‘gainst tempest’s roar<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">****<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">he did not wake.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">he left me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">To face the threat’ning storms alone<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">I kept a faithful watch (and wept)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Confused why he had gone<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Years later now, and still at sea<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">And somehow yet my ship afloat<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">I chart my own course toward the shore<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">In view of others’ kindly boats<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">I doubt now if he ever was —<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">That he was near at even tide<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">And yet,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">I shouldn’t mind to see him there<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 14pt;">When I reach the other side.</span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-81528115850676173702021-05-30T11:43:00.002-07:002022-11-03T06:15:49.653-07:00"The Pavilion That Covereth Thy Hiding Place"<p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>Faith, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>Please have a little in me, hey<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I know you hate it when I stray<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>But I tried everything, I drank the wine and stained the sheets<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I'm clumsy when I speak</i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>Call, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>you never call me anymore<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>We're past the point of self-control<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I'm giving back to you, things I thought were true<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I know it's really nothing new</i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>God, where the hell are you hiding?<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>My hands are in the air and I'm excited<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I've been on the run, so I'm not coming Sunday<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>It's alright, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I'll probably talk to you at midnight</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>God, I could never be like you<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I can't change, I can't change and I don't want to<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I've been on the run, so I'm not coming Sunday<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>It's alright, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I'll probably talk to you at midnight</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>Fear, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>that's what it was just to be clear<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>You went and made everything weird<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>But that's another song, another night, a shot of rum<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I guess what's done is done</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>Bright, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I fall and stumble towards the light<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I miss the days and nights<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>We wrestled in my bedroom, my knees will give out soon<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I know it's really nothing new</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>God, where the hell are you hiding?<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>My hands are in the air, it's so exciting<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I've been on the run, so I'm not coming Sunday<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>It's alright, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I'll probably talk to you at midnight</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>God, </i></span><i style="font-size: 13.3333px;">I could never be like you</i></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I can't change, I can't change and I don't want to<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I've been on the run, so I'm not coming Sunday<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>It's alright, </i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;"><i>I'll probably talk to you at midnight<br /></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;">[Tyler Glenn – “Midnight”]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP6nv_-Rx65lNhIWkk80IhiQ3uW-cPMbgJgm7UtpC1_YzrmFvd9eEkur0QN5jSuPoXd3SJutCTvKgoZdYEGTp9F5Sx_ICyxKAXQ_RxWCUeHpGxwCYVI10XtZvAg1gZTv1eIzvaw/s2048/Extended+Familiy-113.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1367" height="320" id="id_403b_db5f_4d07_de69" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP6nv_-Rx65lNhIWkk80IhiQ3uW-cPMbgJgm7UtpC1_YzrmFvd9eEkur0QN5jSuPoXd3SJutCTvKgoZdYEGTp9F5Sx_ICyxKAXQ_RxWCUeHpGxwCYVI10XtZvAg1gZTv1eIzvaw/s320/Extended+Familiy-113.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 214px;" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is the
part where I describe the unraveling of my Mormon faith. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I will
admit to feeling a tension in telling this part of the story: I'm quite anxious to
feel understood, but I’m <i>not</i> anxious to unnecessarily wound the faith of
others. I see harm in so much of what the church does, and I want to protect
people from that harm. But at the same time, I still have many, many friends
and loved ones who feel (as I once did) that the church connects them to God,
to Jesus, and to all that is good, in ways that nothing else could. I don't want to be a part of robbing them of that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have been
open now for more than a year about the fact that I no longer believe the
church is what it claims to be, but I still wince at the thought of others in
the faith experiencing the hell that I went through in coming to the same
realization. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">To be
clear, my reticence isn't so much borne out of a conceit that I have anything
particulary novel or powerful to share. I'm also aware enough of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belief_perseverance" target="_blank">belief perseverance</a> and the <a href="https://effectiviology.com/backfire-effect-facts-dont-change-minds/#:~:text=%20Summary%20and%20conclusions%20%201%20The%20backfire,strongly%20enough%20against%20unwelcome%20information%2C%20they...%20More%20" target="_blank">backfire effect</a>, which phenomena both suggest that a
perceived attack on one's beliefs will usually cause the person to hold tighter to
those beliefs (no matter how valid the criticism). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But even
so, I remember the faithful space I once occupied, and I know how
troubling it can feel — for someone trying to hold onto their faith — to endure
even a mundane recounting of another's earnest loss of a similar faith. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">So at the
outset of this post, I again offer a caution: while this is not intended to be
a general takedown of Mormonism — many others have done that work far more
thoroughly than I could hope to — it <i>is</i> a candid exploration of how and
why Mormonism fell apart <i>for me</i>. And I'm warning you now that I have
deliberately resisted the urge here to spare details and specific citations,
which I have often done before in an effort to protect others' faith. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In other
words, if you are concerned that what follows could unnecessarily injure your
faith, please consider skipping this post entirely. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I understand; I've been
there. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">"Where
is the Pavilion?" <o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Those
familiar with Mormon scripture know that the title of this post comes from an
important passage for our faith, Doctrine & Covenants 121. The section is an
"epistle" written by Joseph Smith to the church while he was a
prisoner in the jail at Liberty, Missouri. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_98cb_498b_9450_ea25" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6lqbphX8sFpnTwg6DRGazfQ2kKUDe8hl15PP45b27-p-bDwlb2-0o3khHyWRVtxGiaL1RB74XR00mVnZG_VXFspmoQeOus0G2Hd9IBIhOM1XCRyT1ZenYmwo7tA9Tiy3K-w5hkw/s2048/Liberty+Jail+with+Dad.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" id="id_37b6_84fe_5608_4a2b" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6lqbphX8sFpnTwg6DRGazfQ2kKUDe8hl15PP45b27-p-bDwlb2-0o3khHyWRVtxGiaL1RB74XR00mVnZG_VXFspmoQeOus0G2Hd9IBIhOM1XCRyT1ZenYmwo7tA9Tiy3K-w5hkw/s320/Liberty+Jail+with+Dad.JPG" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jared, Emily, Natalie, and Me - Liberty Jail (June 2016)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph
apparently wrote this (and its sister sections D&C 122 and 123) after he
and some companions had been jailed in the basement of that prison for months.
According to all reports, the conditions of that prison were cold and
miserable, and the opening verses suggest Joseph had begun to feel abandoned by
God:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 O God,
where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">2 How long
shall thy hand be stayed, and thine eye, yea thy pure eye, behold from the
eternal heavens the wrongs of thy people and of thy servants, and thine ear be
penetrated with their cries?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">3 Yea, O
Lord, how long shall they suffer these wrongs and unlawful oppressions, before
thine heart shall be softened toward them, and thy bowels be moved with
compassion toward them?</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">[It is
beautiful language from a man we are to <a href="https://history.churchofjesuschrist.org/content/joseph-smith-translates-the-gold-plates?lang=eng" target="_blank">simultaneously believe</a>, only a few
years before, "could neither write nor dictate a coherent and well-worded
letter, let alone dictate a book like the Book of Mormon."] <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_7678_6acc_cbdf_b979" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4A3YHc-K_nN0RB-7cIISDxcKuibwtUXd_sL9LDu5eIYUSCx8OVyW-v7mh-tc7UU6XYZ1Sz7KL0nUw6DuA5kob9vwzKSDyx0rGUpsOLouU0H5SCiwHVSVBbbf6JvPzw5ZEHPHcw/s2048/Replica+of+Liberty+Jail.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" id="id_a45f_7d3_e44c_f319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4A3YHc-K_nN0RB-7cIISDxcKuibwtUXd_sL9LDu5eIYUSCx8OVyW-v7mh-tc7UU6XYZ1Sz7KL0nUw6DuA5kob9vwzKSDyx0rGUpsOLouU0H5SCiwHVSVBbbf6JvPzw5ZEHPHcw/s320/Replica+of+Liberty+Jail.JPG" style="height: auto; width: 240px;" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Emily and The Liberty Jail Replica (June 2016)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Within a
few verses, God answers Joseph's lonely pleadings with one of the most moving
passages in all of scripture:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">7 My son,
peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a
small moment;<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">8 And then,
if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over
all thy foes.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In my
difficulties over the years, I cannot count how many times I turned to these
verses to be reminded of God when I could not feel him (but desperately wanted
to). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">And in
later years, Henry B. Eyring gave a <a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2012/10/where-is-the-pavilion?lang=eng" target="_blank">companion address</a> to the church,
reinforcing the idea that God is always, always there — we just sometimes get
in our own way trying to discern him: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">God
is never hidden, yet sometimes we are, covered by a pavilion of motivations
that draw us away from God and make Him seem distant and inaccessible. Our own
desires, rather than a feeling of “Thy will be done,” create the feeling of a
pavilion blocking God. God is not unable to see us or communicate with us, but
we may be unwilling to listen or submit to His will and His time.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I bet I
listened to or read that talk over 50 times in the years after Eyring gave it.
And by March 2019, I had burned into my soul the message that God was always
there — I just needed to be willing to listen, or to submit to His will and
timing. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I had also
absorbed the not so subtle implication that if I couldn't feel God, it was
always my fault, in one way or another. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A
Plea For Help<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In my last
post, I left the narrative at my emailed plea to some friends, asking their
thoughts on how to resolve my growing concerns with Mormonism's correlated
narrative and authority claims. As I mentioned, I still expected there were
satisfying answers (at some level).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">My friends'
responses were not what I had expected. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Both shared
with me bits of their respective faith journeys, and both were (back then)
still technically active in the faith. Neither, though, offered any support
reinforcing the church's authority claims and correlated narrative. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">One friend
described confronting, years prior, some troubling details in Mormon history.
He said this led him through a decade of exhaustive research into Mormon
history and doctrine — all in an effort to put back together his increasingly
"fractured" view of Mormonism. But, he confided, "I realized
about a year ago that will never happen — in plain English, I definitively and
painfully came to the conclusion that the church isn't what it claims to
be."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Meanwhile,
my other friend, Dave Vincent, shared that his attachment to Mormonism, since
his youth, had never had much to do with the church's authority claims or
correlated narrative. And yet, he still worked to find space within the faith
for his worldview and knowledge of Mormon history. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">He also
offered this compassionate response to my inquiry, which quickly reduced me to
tears:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">And
so I'd say to you: it's ok to be where you are. I want you to know: whatever
path life takes you down, I'll be your friend. I know what's in your heart, and
it's good. What you're thinking and feeling is valid. And only you can process
it, and knowing you, you're going to process it in a way that makes you an even
better person, regardless of the trappings of where it takes you.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I had not
expected that reassurance, and it feels difficult to adequately convey here how
much those five sentences meant to me in that fraught time period — how needed
they were, how much they lifted me, and how they inspired me to want to be
worthy of that vote of confidence. Even now, when I think about how much those
words meant to me at the time, I tear up all over again. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
CES Letter<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the
course of Dave’s response, he made passing reference to some terms I didn’t
recognize: “The CES Letter” and the “Kinderhook plates.” I didn't take much
notice of them in my initial reading. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A few days
later, though, with Michelle away on a trip to New York City (with my sister
Alisha), I re-read my friend's email late on a Saturday evening. Those terms
stuck out to me then.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">So I
googled <a href="https://cesletter.org/" target="_blank">The CES Letter</a>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">At 138
pages (not including extensive references in hyperlinks and footnotes), The CES
Letter is more of a book than a letter. As its author, Jeremy Runnels, lays out
in the introduction, he composed the “letter” after his believing grandfather
connected him with a Church Education System (CES) Director. The unnamed
director apparently invited Runnels to share his concerns about the faith,
which Runnels decided to write down. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It is an
exhaustive, methodical work that highlights a range of concerns about
Mormonism's claims of truth and divine authority. Notably for me, the preface
opens with a photo of and quote from former First Presidency member J. Reuben
Clark (whom the BYU law school is named after): “If we have the truth, it
cannot be harmed by investigation. If we have not the truth, it ought to be
harmed.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJSz-HYmNhKJIsqjELbr8VWCWva50olsme-qsKlKdZaY7IDxWzKgvyedagBKkEfF5H2CUmIQByAqUJ-Hp_3yurfSMy5BfC-K_qNJa6X6imoZXqT1FBgXPLQ-RqPnTizeXm9Malg/s693/J+Reuben+Clark.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="479" height="400" id="id_d84d_c57b_3ec_14f3" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJSz-HYmNhKJIsqjELbr8VWCWva50olsme-qsKlKdZaY7IDxWzKgvyedagBKkEfF5H2CUmIQByAqUJ-Hp_3yurfSMy5BfC-K_qNJa6X6imoZXqT1FBgXPLQ-RqPnTizeXm9Malg/w276-h400/J+Reuben+Clark.png" style="height: auto; width: 276px;" width="276" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That
reminded me of a quote I'd heard once from a friend in San Diego (offered as a
friend of his was trying to save him from Mormonism), “True gold does not fear
the refiner's fire.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I braced
myself and started read. We had the truth, so I had nothing to be afraid of,
right?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Troubling
Details<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I won’t
recount the entire letter here, but these were some of the points I found most
troubling:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 6pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><p></p><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
Book of Mormon text’s repeated mirroring of errors unique to the King James
Version of the Bible. [Remember, the Book of Mormon is supposed to be an
ancient record from ancestors of Native Americans, which record begins around
600 B.C. and ends around 400 A.D. By contrast, the King James Version of the
Bible showed up in the early 1600s];<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
near complete lack of archeological support for the civilizations referenced in
the Book of Mormon [this section even quotes my uncle, Dr. John Clark (an archeology professor)];<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Uncomfortable
similarities in the plot points and themes between the Book of Mormon and <i>View
of the Hebrews</i>, a book published in Vermont in 1823, as well as an 1819
book, <i>The Late War Between the United States and Great Britain</i> (a
children's textbook about the War of 1812, the language of which mimicked the
English in the King James Version of the Bible). [I would later hear and appreciate Dan
Vogel's arguments that it was less important whether Joseph Smith had specific
access to these books, since the plot points and themes in both — e.g., Native
Americans as ancestors of ancient inhabitants of Jerusalem — were part of the
cultural milieu of Joseph Smith's day];<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Jarring
differences among Joseph Smith's four known accounts of his “First Vision”
(e.g., the appearance of only <i>one</i> being in his earliest version, which
later becomes <i>two</i> beings in later versions, as well as other, direct
contradictions between accounts) [Notably, I had never seen any correlated
materials with the four versions side by side. I realized this was on purpose.
As they were, the correlated materials only ever seemed to focus on the
similarities among the various accounts, while carefully glossing over (or
explaining away) the inconsistencies];<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
text of the Book of Abraham — Joseph Smith’s purported translation of ancient
Egyptian scrolls in The Pearl of Great Price — is <i>not anything close</i>
to the actual translation of those scrolls;<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
Kinderhook Plates: purported brass plates (found by a farmer in Kinderhook, IL)
that scientists determined in the early 1980s were a hoax (the church even
<a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/history/topics/kinderhook-plates?lang=eng" target="_blank">acknowledges</a> as much now). The hoax notwithstanding, Joseph Smith began
translating these plates as though they were real, ancient records;<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Troubling
details about the credibility of the witnesses Joseph Smith recruited to
testify about having seen the “gold plates” (from which he purportedly
translated the Book of Mormon), and the less-than-ideal process by which these
witnesses apparently came to their written testimonies [almost nothing about the details of these testimonies bear the indicia of reliability].<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><p></p><!--[if !supportLists]--><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 6pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 6pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 6pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 6pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 6pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I spent
hours reading about these things, and those hours filled me with an increasing
sense of dread. I also felt my stomach reflexively tightening, as if my body
were preparing for physical blows. I had spent my life in the faith — more than
40 years by that point — but I had never heard of most of these concerns, and I
had certainly never waded through any of the details.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But
The Holy Ghost. . .<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">My thoughts
battled the sense of dread by trying to hold firm to what I had known and felt:
The Book of Mormon was too amazing for Joseph Smith — unlearned farm boy from
Upstate New York — to have dictated it by himself. And more than that, I had
felt the Holy Ghost (so many times) confirm the unique truth of
Mormonism!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But then I
reached the section of the letter on “Testimony & Spiritual Witnesses.”
Here, Runnels calls into question the significance and meaning of the feelings
I had always attributed to the Holy Ghost. For me, as I’ve written about
before, those peaceful feelings functioned as my barometer of spiritual truth —
just as the scriptures said they should. But when I followed a link to a
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycUvC9s4VYA" target="_blank">YouTube video</a> in the text, my stomach sank to the floor: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" id="id_fcf2_4686_9b86_d419" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ycUvC9s4VYA" width="320" youtube-src-id="ycUvC9s4VYA"></iframe></div><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">At roughly
14 minutes, the video describes a man’s efforts to bring his brother back to
Mormonism after the brother confronted issues over the reliability of feelings
he attributed to the Holy Ghost. In describing the man's effort to investigate
and resolve his brother’s concerns, the video includes clips of “testimonies”
from a woman in a fundamentalist LDS offshoot (i.e., still polygamous), several
converts to Islam, and even a few cult leaders and members. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">What
disturbed me about each of the clips was that these people described learning
about the unique “truth” of their respective faiths through a process that is
virtually identical to what we teach in Mormonism (i.e., asking God in prayer and
searching one's feelings) — the same process by which I had come to feel and
know that Mormonism was God's “one true church.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It ends by
questioning whether these confirming feelings are really from God (and everyone
but the Mormons are just getting them wrong) or from our own minds.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Spiritually
Numb<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That video,
on top of all the other new, contradictory (threatening) information, left me
numb and terrified. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It was
sometime after 1 am when I finally put the computer down and tried going to
sleep. I remember praying that night, looking to God for those familiar,
reassuring feelings that Mormonism was still the thing that I had always
believed and felt it was. Also that God was still the being that I believed and felt
he was.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But during
and after that prayer, I felt nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The next
day, I wrote this about the night’s research and where it had left me:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I went to
bed very discouraged. The extent of other apparent influences on the Book of
Mormon were disconcerting. So, too, the apparently completely incorrect
interpretations of the Facsimiles in the Pearl of Great Price. And the
Kinderhook plates. And the undermining of the witnesses of the gold plates. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">On top of
that, though, what felt so unsettling to me was the undermining of what I’ve
felt like has been a witness from the Holy Ghost. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">So today
has been a mess, and I’ve found I’ve been questioning even the existence of
God.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In
hindsight, the journal entry somehow still downplays how devastating that
stretch of hours was for me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">And yes, up
to that point in my life, I had <i>never</i> questioned the existence of God.
But now those questions started worming their way into my consciousness. They
were intrusive and unwelcome, as the prospect that God might not be there was
as terrifying a thought as I had always imagined it would be.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A
Final Visit to the Temple<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The days of
internal turmoil that followed felt like weeks, and the weeks felt like months.
I don’t think that I had ever felt such internal conflict. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">[The
closest I had come was in the MTC, and that experience was more about
reconciling myself to what I’d always known to be true. That was wrenching yes,
but it was so much different than confronting the increasingly real possibility
that the “truth” as I had known it and lived it for 41 years was not actually the
truth.]<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I was so
anxious to resolve the dissonance, to authentically hold onto my faith — at
least some of the core parts of it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the days
and nights that followed, however, I felt spiritually numb. I could not feel
Heaven as I prayed, and the scriptures felt increasingly dry. For some reason,
at the time I had most needed reassurance of God's existence, a pavilion was
now hiding him from me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That
following Wednesday, March 27, 2019, after a night of little sleep, I made an
impromptu decision to head to the temple. I would "experiment upon [the]
word[]" (Alma 32:27) and take my difficulties there, as I had done many times
before. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">[I
mis-remembered initially in my last post, when I described there what I then
thought was my last temple visit]. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">On the
drive to the temple, I thought of Dad, especially when my music playlist
randomly brought up the hymn "Goin' Home" — a song synonymous with
Dad ever since the funeral.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">As I sat
through the temple session, I looked at it through the new lens of all the
questions I now had. At the time, I was still teaching youth Sunday School, and
I had been focused on how Jesus's New Testament miracles avoided any
specific patterns — to me that implied that Jesus met (and helped) people
wherever they were at in their faith. So I figured that God could probably do
that for me in the temple, maybe <i>despite</i> the <a href="http://www.mormonthink.com/temple.htm" target="_blank">Masonic weirdness</a> (that, I
had to admit, I still couldn't make heads or tails of). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I did feel
a calm as I sat in the session, but I couldn't discern now whether the feeling
was God or simply a function of 90 minutes of quiet meditation. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Later, as I
sat in the celestial room to pray, I wept (I seemed to be doing that a lot).
That night in my journal, I wrote of the experience: "As I sat there
contemplating everything, I felt like God had met me where I was at, and that
He delighted that I had gone to such lengths to seek and be near Him."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The feeling
was short lived, though, and did nothing to heal my difficulties with the
faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Longings<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A few days
later, I wrote in my journal, "I don’t know what to make of things
spiritually." I reasoned, though, that the God I had come to worship would
probably be ok with that:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">It
occurred to me today that the God I have worshiped would patiently help lead me
through this, if He’s real (and He would be patient and understanding of my use
of the word “if”). I feel like I’m just trying to salvage that at this point. I
want to believe in Him. I want to believe in Jesus. I want to believe in some
version of the restored gospel.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The next
day, Sunday, I spent a part of Sacrament meeting writing down the beliefs I
desperately wanted to hold onto:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I want to believe
in a loving, all powerful God who gives us agency and sent us to earth to learn
and who looks forward to our return.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I want to
believe in Jesus Christ and grace and what I understand of the Atonement, a
power by which we're able to learn and benefit from our mistakes without having
to be permanently hindered by them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I want to
believe that our difficulties and suffering here have meaning, that there is
something akin to eternal progression and eternal relationships.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I want to
believe I'll see my Dad again.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But as I
finished my list, I also had to acknowledge "all that feels so much less
certain for me now than it did a few months ago."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Feverish
Research<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the
months that followed, I searched feverishly for answers — both to my issues
with Mormon history and doctrine, as well as the persistent feeling that God
had left me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I
continued, of course, with a daily study of the church's correlated materials.
But I also scoured blog posts, listened to podcasts (across the spectrum of
Mormonism), and read books specifically tailored to those in Mormon faith
crisis. Those books included faithful treatments (among them, Patrick Mason's <i>Planted</i>,
and a re-reading of the Givens' <i>The Crucible of Doubt</i>) and also the
autobiography of Hans Mattson — a former area authority for the church in
Sweden who ultimately left the faith. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Mattson’s
story of spiritual desperation and faith crisis resonated deeply with me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">On almost a
daily basis, my journal entries from this time period reveal an internal
tug-of-war. One day I would write with optimism that I "felt like I could
make it in the church — and that I wanted to." But on another, with clear
signs of depression, I observed that "[f]eelings of faith and trust feel
so hard to come by. I don’t know what I can believe in, and right now it
doesn’t feel like much of anything." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It was not
unusual, in fact, to cycle through that range of emotions several times within
the same day. On April 16, 2019, I wrote about feelings that could have easily
described any given day: "I feel so up and down on a daily basis on
matters of faith. I want some steadiness."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Crumbling
Ground<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">When I
would confide bits of my internal turmoil to others, I often described feeling
like the spiritual ground I had stood on for so many years (ground I had been <i>certain</i>
was firm) had crumbled beneath me, leaving me in free fall. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">As I
searched for answers to break my fall, I would eventually land some distance
lower. At this new landing spot, there was a momentary thrill (and relief!) at
thinking I had finally settled on solid ground. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But then
I'd start to inspect this new spiritual foundation — how could I not inspect
it?! — only to find more cracks. And before long, that ground, too, was
crumbling beneath me. Soon enough, I was in free fall all over again. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This
process played out many times over the course of several months. I <i>always</i>
resisted it, as that feeling of falling was <i>always</i> terrifying. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">[One thing
believers often misunderstand is how unwelcome this deconstruction process is —
how anxious those of us with doubts usually are to hold onto belief. That's
part of what makes derisive comments like Nelson's "<a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2021/04/49nelson?lang=eng" target="_blank">lazy learners</a>"
quip so laughably off base; I’d never been as diligent a seeker of truth in my
life.] <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the end,
this process would unravel more than just Mormonism for me, though I will
confine my writing in this post to that subject. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It would be
near impossible to retrace <i>all</i> the steps that led me out of Mormonism,
but I summarize below the most important markers along that trail. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
Holy Ghost<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The most
pressing issue for me was the “attack” on the Holy Ghost that started with that
video. Were those feelings from God? Or from me? And if from God, why were
cults and non-Christian religions preaching the <i>exact same method</i> as
Mormons for discerning divine truth (to confirm the singular truth of their
belief system)? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The same
method, mind you, by which I had “felt” that the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints was God’s one true church.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Also, why
had those feelings now left me?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“If Any
Man Will Do His Will. . .”<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The day
after reading the CES letter, I confided in a few close friends. These friends
had left Mormonism but retained some belief in Christianity. I wanted to know from
them: what did they think now of the concept of the Holy Ghost? Of Jesus's New
Testament teachings about it? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">My friends
were encouraging, but none of their answers satisfied me, and nothing explained
the spiritual drought I was feeling. I mean, I <i>wanted</i> to believe, <i>and
I had long believed</i>! But now, no matter how earnest I was about inviting
the Holy Ghost, I could not feel it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This
pavilion covering God made no sense to me. I hadn't done anything wrong: I had
been earnestly searching for the truth and simply encountered contrary
information. This scenario was <i>exactly</i> where the Holy Ghost was supposed
to be most helpful — in facilitating the discernment of spiritual truth (and
error). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In fact,
more than once during those weeks, I wrote down and pondered the promise in
John 7:17, "If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine,
whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I held fast
to the idea that those good feelings would (and should) return as I kept doing
all the things. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For
instance, a week after I read the CES Letter, I wrote this to some friends:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">There's
more than a small part of me that still hopes that if I keep doing what I'm
supposed to in continuing to read [The Book of Mormon], even in the wake of
these doubts and concerns, that God will "manifest (again) the truth"
of it to me [Moroni 10:4]. I think I'm hoping for that with a lot of things
that I've held to.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That plan,
though, wasn't working so far. And I had to acknowledge that the church's
recent, varied attempts to address (quell) doubts were backfiring now — they
were making it harder for me to trust that the church knew how to help me through
this: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But,
contrary to what's supposed to happen when we check all the right spiritual
boxes, the questions and concerns keep mounting. And that's where I've found
most of the church's efforts to address those with doubts as being the exact
opposite of helpful. In fact, they've accelerated the whole process for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For the
last few weeks, I've been wrestling with even more basic, terrifying
questions: Is there a God? Is Jesus
real? His Atonement? Life after death? What meaning, if any, can I draw from
all those experiences with the "Holy Ghost"? Am I really questioning
things enough to put terms like the Holy Ghost in quotes?</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A little
more than a week later, on April 8, 2019, I confided to these same friends that
I was still having trouble feeling <i>anything</i> as I did the things I was
supposed to:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">I'll
also share this personal observation that, while I've continued to be dutiful
in things like reading from the Book of Mormon daily, much of my religious
practice has become rather dry. In other words, I'm finding it harder to feel
the Holy Ghost by checking the same boxes I'm used to checking (that have
brought me moderate success in that regard in the past).</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">And the
next day, April 9, 2019, I made these difficult observations in my journal:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I've commented
to a few people today that the Holy Ghost has felt more distant as I've started
to confront questions and doubts. That feels so unfair — so counter to the
truth-discerning role it's supposed to play. Then, on the last leg of my
commute to work, the hymn "How Firm a Foundation" came up. It stung
me to listen to. My foundation feels so infirm.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have
spent the last 22 years of my life studying Mormon scripture and just trying to
find charity and peace. I realized today that I've probably never seriously
questioned my testimony of the church or God. I feel like I don't have the time
or energy to study philosophy or become a historian. I feel lonely. And I feel
like I've got a long, lonely slog ahead of me.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“A
Careful Examination”<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The next
day, April 10, 2019, a friend pointed me to an article that proved important in
reconciling the spiritual feelings I had attributed to the Holy Ghost. From the
Mormon blog site Rational Faiths, the article “<a href="https://rationalfaiths.com/testimony-spiritual-experiences-and-truth-a-careful-examination/" target="_blank">Testimony, Spiritual Experiences, and Truth: A Careful Examination</a>” methodically breaks down, at a
summary level, some of the problematic aspects of the church’s teachings about
spiritual experiences and the role of feelings (i.e., the Holy Ghost) in
discerning truth. The article even discusses parts of that troubling video I
had seen weeks earlier. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">While not
inherently dismissive of belief or spiritual experiences, the article points to
psychology for several alternative explanations for those warm, confirming
feelings. These alternatives seemed to explain the commonality of these
feelings across belief systems. For example, the article highlighted the
following:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The “<a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elevation_(emotion)" target="_blank">emotion of elevation</a>” (i.e., the burning in the bosom) — an altruistic feeling
we often experience when witnessing “moral beauty” (which feeling can be
replicated in a laboratory);</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Inner
speech or experience (which is highly suggestible) as the feeling of “pure
intelligence flowing through you” (Joseph Smith's description of the Holy
Ghost);</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
extent to which “answers” to prayer and other spiritual experiences can be
produced and manipulated by confirmation bias;</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
<a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illusory_truth_effect" target="_blank">illusory truth effect</a> (a tendency to believe even false information after
repeated exposure) and <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mere-exposure_effect" target="_blank">mere exposure effect</a> (a preference for things that are
familiar) and the way the church uses propaganda techniques and (likely)
well-intended manipulations to foster belief (e.g., Boyd K. Packer’s famous
teaching that a “testimony [of Mormonism] is to be found in the bearing of it!
. . . Can you not see that it will be supplied as you share it?”);</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Conservatism
bias in updating our beliefs, preferencing older information (just because we’ve
sat with it longer); and</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
circularity of Mormon “truth” tests (i.e., how would one go about demonstrating
that this method of feeling truth through the Holy Ghost is valid in the first
place?). </span></li></ul><p></p><!--[if !supportLists]--><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The article
opened my eyes. Though nothing about it required me to immediately accept these
alternatives as “true,” I now had several alternate explanations for what I had
previously understood to be incontrovertible spiritual experiences. And
frankly, I had to acknowledge that some of these alternatives were more
intellectually satisfying, especially in light of recent experiences. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For
instance, as I described in my second post in this series, my testimony of the
Book of Mormon had come after reading it extensively as a young adult, with the
feeling/realization one day that I had “always known” it was true. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Now? That
experience sounded indistinguishable from the illusory truth and mere exposure
effects. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Maybe my
experience <i>was</i> still genuine, but it was telling that the church made no
effort to distinguish (or even acknowledge) such faux spiritual experiences
from the real deal — not when they still yielded the “right” answers. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">[Though to
be fair, neither Jesus nor Paul made such efforts in the New
Testament either.]<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">So when my
friend later texted me, asking about my takeaways from the article, this was my
response:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Several
things: (1) that my testimony of the Book of Mormon likely came about via the
‘illusory truth effect‘ (tendency to believe info to be correct after repeated
exposure); (2) That the emotion of elevation explains a great deal (all?) of my
experiences with the Holy Ghost (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing — just not
the truth witness I used to think it was); (3) self-generation, the power of
suggestion, confirmation bias, propaganda, and repetition are real things,
things pushed heavily in our church (not in those terms), and not really
controlled for in attempting to discern what’s from God. It’s all
self-perpetuating.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I further
observed that the article helped “untether me” from some spiritual experiences
that were causing me cognitive dissonance. The downside, though, was that it
was also forcing me to re-examine meaningful spiritual experiences that I
really wanted to hold onto.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But on the
whole, given how depressed I had felt in searching for answers, the fact that I
seemed to be moving toward answers (even if unpleasant) offered a modicum of
comfort. As I noted to my friend:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“I should
probably be floored by this, but I think I’ve been so low lately that I find it
rather comforting to see it laid out like this.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">WOOD
vs. STEEL Tools<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The uncertainty
and search for answers should have been chaotic enough for me in that time
period. But there was more: there was also the guilt that accompanied my
doubts. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For
instance, this is how I described my morning on April 24, 2019: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That I've
allowed myself to doubt truth claims, particularly last night, made this
morning especially difficult as I dealt with a tremendous amount of guilt —
guilt for having questions in the first place, guilt for questioning the
truthfulness of the church I've effectively dedicated my life to, guilt for
entertaining the possibility of stepping back or stepping away. The feeling was
that it's my fault for being here, especially as I think about how people will
react.<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That
morning, I reached out to a few friends to express those feelings. One of them
later sent me a YouTube video and blog post, with the rather tongue-in-cheek
title “<a href="http://thoughtsonthingsandstuff.com/fix-your-faith-crisis-with-this-one-weird-trick/" target="_blank">Fix Your Faith Crisis with This One Weird Trick!</a>” This post, by Jonathan
Streeter, proved to be very important for me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The post
begins by describing the components of a faith crisis and asking the reader to
imagine having a loved one in a <i>different</i> high demand religion than yours —
a religion that you would understand to be demonstrably false (e.g., Jehovah’s
Witnesses or Scientologists). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In that
case, a faith crisis for your loved one would be a <i>good</i> thing. And as
your loved one navigates that crisis, you would want to provide them tools that
would both <i>reconcile</i> them to the truth and <i>liberate</i> them from
deceit. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Furthermore,
it would be important that these tools “must not placate the individual to get
them to accept a lie, and [they] must not impeach the truth.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Streeter
then describes the difference between WOOD (“ways of overcoming doubt”) and
STEEL (“seeking truth: education, erudition, liberation”) tools for addressing
a faith crisis. WOOD tools assume the truth of a religion and only have the
power to placate. This means that such tools would work <i>no matter what high-demand religion your loved one is in</i>. In other words, WOOD tools “can be used
to specifically shut out the truth from a seeker in a false religion.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Streeter
then offers a few examples of WOOD tools as potential responses to a doubter’s
troubling questions: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“It’s
not important for your salvation, don’t think about it anymore”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“We
weren’t there at the time so we can’t judge the actions of our founder and
early leaders”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“We
can’t judge behavior in the past by today’s standards. Things which seem wrong
today weren’t so bad back then”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“If
God commands something, then it is right – even if it would otherwise be
considered wrong”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“We
will find the answers to your troubling questions in the afterlife – until then
we must simply have faith”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“That
is a mystery which God uses to test our faith.”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“You
should be more concerned about doing what we tell you is right than asking
questions which tear down faith”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Our
leader was only speaking as a man when he said that troubling or incorrect
thing. You can trust what he says when he is speaking as our leader”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“You
cannot trust anything that is not published by our own official sources”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Your
personal failure to keep our rules has led you to doubt. Start focusing on
fixing yourself rather than tearing down our faith”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“The
answer to some questions are too precious or sacred to be given at this time”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“If
you pray harder and read more of our official publications, then you will
understand. Your doubts are proof that you haven’t studied enough”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“It’s
okay to have these questions, but you should never share them with anyone else
– just your leaders in private. You should trust the judgement of your leaders
over your own”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Don’t
listen to ex-members of our faith. They are evil”</span></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“You
previously believed that this was true – you should trust that feeling and stop
questioning it”</span></li></ul><p></p><!--[if !supportLists]--><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Again, from
the perspective of trying to rescue a loved one from an obviously false
religion, you would advise against that loved one relying on <i>any</i> of the
above WOOD tools — these tools would keep your loved one trapped in their false
faith. As Streeter argues:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Since
such answers do not have the power to liberate someone from a false religion,
then they should not be relied upon by anyone who is sincerely seeking after
the truth – no matter what religion they are in.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">He then
observes that the “real goal” for those in faith crisis (like your imaginary
loved one in a false religion) is to seek truth. As such, the goal would be to
provide your loved one with tools that allow them to both seek truth and
liberate them from deception, wherever that truth leads. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Enter
“STEEL” tools, which include the following:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Look
at any and all information you can find from both official and unofficial
sources”</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Talk
to anyone about your questions and evaluate all answers”</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Find
out what other people who have had the same questions say – both current and
former members”</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Trust
your own moral compass for what is right and wrong”</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond; mso-fareast-font-family: Garamond;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Allow
yourself to follow your conclusion, even if it means rejecting something that
you previously thought was true”<o:p></o:p></span></li></ul><p></p><!--[if !supportLists]--><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Streeter
notes that the list of STEEL tools isn’t nearly as long "because there are
fewer mental acrobatics that have to be employed." Further, "[t]he
seeker is simply advised to learn as much as possible from anywhere and use
their God-given mind and conscience to follow where truth leads."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">All of that
lead up yields the “trick” to “fix” a faith crisis: “In examining doubts about
your own religion you should only rely on answers to your questions which have
the power to discern truth from error.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Streeter's
insights may not seem earth-shattering. They might seem obvious. But for me
at the time, coming from my background of unquestioning Mormon orthodoxy,
Streeter’s thoughts hit me like a clarifying lightning bolt. As I considered all of it in the aftermath, I
recognized how the church and its leaders had almost unilaterally advocated for
members to singularly use WOOD tools to address concerns about the faith (they even refuse
to even allow that “doubts” are a permissible part of earnest inquiry). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Why? Why
the fear of STEEL tools? Especially if we have unique access to the gift of the
Holy Ghost, which is supposed to lead us to all truth? <o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Breaking
Open<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Something
broke inside me the morning of April 29, 2019. Or, as I would write that
evening, something “broke open.” Feeling newly liberated to pursue truth,
wherever that search led me, I made the conscious decision that morning that I
would no longer give the church and its leaders the benefit of the doubt. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">They didn’t
deserve it. And frankly, if the church really was “true,” it (and its leaders)
shouldn’t need the benefit of the doubt.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Shortly
afterward, I texted Michelle my most defiant thoughts yet: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
don’t think [the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints] is true. I think
I’ve been part of a high demand religion, that I was relatively good at being a
member of, that’s not actually true.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">We talked
further that evening about where this liberation and defiance now left me,
spiritually. As I wrote later in my journal, I wasn’t exactly sure. But it meant
shifting my effort away from the primary goal of holding onto Mormonism — I
wanted the truth, wherever that took me:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Michelle
asked me tonight where this leaves me. I don't know. But I want to live with
integrity. I want to follow the truth where it takes me. She asked how my
father would feel. I said that I hoped he would encourage me to do what I think
is right. She offered that if he knew what I now do, hopefully he'd do the
same.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I also
couldn’t help but feel that, if God were real, he would want me to pursue those
very same ends. As I wrote weeks later: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">On
the drive to work this morning I felt, maybe more than ever, that if there is a
God, He/They would want me to use my brain and heart to figure out for myself
what feels true/right/good and not to farm out the thinking to others (e.g.,
Russell M. Nelson), though it can be useful to look to others to see if they
might on to something.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Revisiting
Joseph's Practice of Polygamy<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">As I've
described before, I was already uncomfortable with even the idea of polygamy —
a man being simultaneously married to more than one woman. So was the church, apparently, that only began <a href="http://www.mormonthink.com/joseph-smith-polygamy.htm#responses" target="_blank">acknowledging</a> Joseph's practice of polygamy relatively recently (and even now, you'll almost never hear mention of it in church meetings). You certainly won't hear mention of Joseph's practice of polyandry — a man marrying another’s current spouse. But I had never bothered
to explore the details, and my ignorance allowed for a kind of uncomfortable
peace with church history. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But, as I
turned my attention to the details of Joseph Smith’s polygamous practices, they
were <i>profoundly</i> disturbing. Those troubling details included the
following: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">the
<a href="http://www.wivesofjosephsmith.org/" target="_blank">young age</a> of some of Joseph’s plural wives (as young as 14); </span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph’s
marriages to <a href="http://www.wivesofjosephsmith.org/2425-SarahandMariaLawrence.htm" target="_blank">Sarah and Maria Lawrence</a>, orphan sisters (16 and 18 years old, respectively) that the Smith’s
had taken into their home; </span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">the
manipulation and psychological coercion Joseph leaned on to induce many of
these marriages (e.g., promising <a href="http://www.wivesofjosephsmith.org/26-HelenMarKimball.htm" target="_blank">Helen Mar Kimball's</a> family eternal salvation
if she agreed to marry him; <a href="http://thoughtsonthingsandstuff.com/defending-the-expositor-indecent-proposals-pt1/" target="_blank">locking women in a room</a> as they considered a
polygamous proposal; claiming that <a href="http://www.mormonthink.com/joseph-smith-polygamy.htm#angel" target="_blank">an angel with a flaming sword</a> had threatened
to kill him if the woman didn't agree to the marriage); </span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph’s
<a href="https://www.fairlatterdaysaints.org/answers/Joseph_Smith/Polygamy/Hiding_the_practice_from_Emma" target="_blank">secrecy</a> in hiding several of these marriages from his first wife, Emma (including those marriages to Sarah and Maria Lawrence); and</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">the
details of Joseph’s <a href="http://www.mormonthink.com/joseph-smith-polygamy.htm#other" target="_blank">polyandry</a> (including sending apostle Orson Hyde on a
mission to Palestine and marrying his wife, <a href="http://www.wivesofjosephsmith.org/11-MarindaJohnsonHyde.htm" target="_blank">Marinda</a>, while he was away).</span></li></ul><p></p><!--[if !supportLists]--><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QHdMt4xnRCelcqyElg9SJMDbPZieWTPzqyABY8mY3-gd54cbA0BKlagNyolqDahEzzJ4_SZR9Qgv4lCKzNDc5tkBM-xUZ0Vbhk9jNa3oXJR94_WfatSFqkkSSiOh1nBmS8sF6A/s719/unnamed%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="567" height="320" id="id_1516_f651_2f21_9d09" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QHdMt4xnRCelcqyElg9SJMDbPZieWTPzqyABY8mY3-gd54cbA0BKlagNyolqDahEzzJ4_SZR9Qgv4lCKzNDc5tkBM-xUZ0Vbhk9jNa3oXJR94_WfatSFqkkSSiOh1nBmS8sF6A/s320/unnamed%25281%2529.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 0px;" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRh1owf_9qQ4yu6yP-nxSmX-PwpoHY3Y30vxjio396w3YW_-pVmhl1vEtQFpasFjZ7ncXm09665cc2AZ-YK5rpvLy8aJUNE61HsDpWhfCJtnoHYxdEuJUSaSwx7ZMj_OHqhDsSkw/s719/Occam%2527s+Razor.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="567" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRh1owf_9qQ4yu6yP-nxSmX-PwpoHY3Y30vxjio396w3YW_-pVmhl1vEtQFpasFjZ7ncXm09665cc2AZ-YK5rpvLy8aJUNE61HsDpWhfCJtnoHYxdEuJUSaSwx7ZMj_OHqhDsSkw/s320/Occam%2527s+Razor.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>Beyond the
morally repugnant power dynamics and consent-related issues, though, there is
this damning fact: </span><a href="http://www.mormonthink.com/joseph-smith-polygamy.htm#lied" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">Joseph lied</a><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">, </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">repeatedly</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">, about his involvement in
plural marriage.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For
instance, while he was secretly married to roughly two dozen women (besides
Emma), he defended himself, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
had not been married scarcely five minutes, and made one proclamation of the
Gospel, before it was reported that I had seven wives. <i>I mean to live and
proclaim the truth as long as I can</i>. This new holy prophet [William Law]
has gone to Carthage and swore that I had told him that I was guilty of
adultery. This spiritual wifeism! Why, a man does not speak or wink, for fear
of being accused of this…I wish the grand jury would tell me who they
are—whether it will be a curse or blessing to me. I am quite tired of the fools
asking me…<i>What a thing it is for a man to be accused of committing adultery,
and having seven wives, when I can only find one. I am the same man, and as
innocent as I was fourteen years ago; and I can prove them all perjurers. </i>[emphasis
added]</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The more I
learned of the specifics of Joseph’s practices, the harder it was to swallow
the idea that God commanded (or even just sanctioned or tolerated) Joseph’s
secretive and coercive efforts to take plural wives. And, beyond all that, that
God tolerated Joseph’s lies and deception. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">[Of course,
there are Mormon <a href="https://www.fairlatterdaysaints.org/answers/Question:_Why_did_Joseph_Smith_say_%22I_had_not_been_married_scarcely_five_minutes...before_it_was_reported_that_I_had_seven_wives%22%3F" target="_blank">apologetic efforts</a> that try to work around Joseph’s deception
— mostly trying to defend him on technicalities and God’s lack of guidance on <i>how</i>
Joseph should go about taking on between 34-40 wives. These defenses are not
compelling. Or at least, I did not find them compelling once I was able to look
at things more objectively — once I no longer <i>needed</i> Joseph to be a
prophet and man of God. I had, after all, been raised on this <a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-principles/chapter-31-honesty?lang=eng" target="_blank">understanding</a> of
honesty and deception from the church's Gospel Principles Manual: “We can also intentionally deceive others by a gesture
or a look, by silence, or by telling only part of the truth. Whenever we lead
people in any way to believe something that is not true, we are not being
honest.” Also, from the Book of Mormon, I understood that “the Lord God worketh
not in darkness” (2 Nephi 26:25). “Darkness” to me had always seemed synonymous
with deception and unwelcome secrecy.] <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
Book of Mormon<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I’ve
mentioned before that the Book of Mormon — the “keystone” of my faith in Mormon
Christianity — was the last pillar of my testimony to fall. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">On March
31, 2019, I wrote to some friends, confiding that "trying to process
criticisms of Book of Mormon historicity and language and other contemporary
influences has been so rattling for me lately." <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Even so, I
still felt "unresolved" about the Book of Mormon:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
don't know what to make of the genuinely troubling questions into its origins
and authorship. But there's also so much in there that's brought me closer to
God than anything else I've read. And I still genuinely struggle with the
thought that Joseph managed to put it together himself. I've read some from at
least one person who believes its divinely inspired fiction. Maybe, but even
that robs a great deal of the meaning I used to find in the stories of people I'd
believed were real.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Early on in
my faith crisis, I felt anxious to hold onto belief in the Book of Mormon, and
I was open about that fact. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">New
Perspectives on Translation<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In
mid-April, a friend sent me <a href="https://faithmatters.org/new-perspectives-on-joseph-smith-and-translation/" target="_blank">video links</a> to an April 2017 conference at Utah
State (put on by the progressively faithful “Faith Matters” organization). The conference was titled “New Perspectives
on Joseph Smith and Translation [of The Book of Mormon]” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I watched
nearly every session, which included some of the biggest names in progressive
Mormonism (including a few who were in our Cambridge ward during my years at
Harvard Law School). All of the presenters and panelists seemed both smarter
and more thoughtful than I was, and they all talked about the Book of Mormon
from a faithful perspective — that, one way or another, it was a divinely
inspired document. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Much of the
purpose of the conference, though, seemed intent on advocating away from a
“tight translation” model (that the Book of Mormon effectively represents a
verbatim translation of ancient records) toward a “loose translation” theory
(divinely inspired, but far more flexible in terms of sourcing of the language
Joseph Smith used). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The thought
of even allowing for a “loose translation” theory of the Book of Mormon is
progressive. That is to say, it’s not something I’ve seen <i>any</i> tolerance for in
Mormon orthodoxy and the correlated materials. But it is an outgrowth of
faithful efforts to address the fact that analysis of the language in, and
influences on, the Book of Mormon reveal it to be a demonstrably 19th-century
document.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Frankly,
most of the discussion at the conference was over my head at the time, but I
appreciated the effort. Even more, I appreciated the faith underlying that
effort. I came away from the conference feeling like the “loose translation”
theory might reconcile my growing issues with the Book of Mormon, and I wrote
as much that evening to a friend: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">I’d
sure like to be able to come out of all this with some conviction of divinity
in all this (particularly in the Book of Mormon). It’s hard now because I’m
smarting from the heretofore demonstrably false narratives I’d held to until
just weeks ago. If I do find God in all this, I don’t think my faith will look
anything like where I’ve been and what I grew up with. And I also don’t see how
it could look much like the orthodoxy mostly preached at General Conference
and, by extension, my regular Sunday meetings.</span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Problems
With Loose Translation<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For me,
though, the “loose translation” theory wouldn’t hold upon close inspection. For
one thing, that’s not at all what Joseph Smith and the church represent the
book to be. So if the Book of Mormon <i>is</i> the product of a divinely inspired
loose translation, it is (another) divinely-sanctioned deception. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Further, as
a podcaster later pointed out, the whole idea of loose translation renders
D&C 10 nonsensical (wherein God purportedly tells Joseph that he’s not
permitted to re-translate the lost 116 pages of Book of Mormon manuscript — the
unstated assumption of the entire revelation being that Joseph would otherwise
be able to dictate an <i>identical</i> 116 pages — because “wicked men” had
altered the words of the original transcript [and apparently, in the days
before typewriters and computers, folks otherwise wouldn’t be able to easily
discern alterations in a hand-written ink manuscript]).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">By late
April 2019, I felt like the Book of Mormon was the last pillar of my uniquely Mormon
faith that I could hold onto. I was still reading from it daily (doing my part
to earnestly check those spiritual boxes), but the daily efforts were still a
spiritually “dry” experience. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Around that
time, I finally reached out to a trusted friend to ask him specifically about
his thoughts on the Book of Mormon. We talked for nearly an hour on a Saturday
afternoon, and I offered him the main defense I was still holding onto — that
there was no way Joseph Smith could have dictated the Book of Mormon himself. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That night
I noted in my journal that my friend “seemed to deconstruct most everything I’d
been holding onto regarding the divinity of the Book of Mormon. Sigh.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">But more
than just take his word for it, this friend pointed me to sources to begin my own research.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I still
kept up my dutiful daily reading. For instance, on April 23, 2019 — the same
day I read the Streeter piece on WOOD vs. STEEL tools — I described feeling
“chaos” internally after reading from the Book of Mormon:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
feel in chaos with my faith (this morning reading Ether 11-12, I again found it
so hard to believe that the Book of Mormon was simply and oral performance in
what would amount to a pious fraud). Honestly, I don't know where [my faith]
will end up. </span></blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">On May 8,
2019, while Michelle and I were vacationing in Germany (and staying with our
friends the Vincents), I finished another reading of the Book of Mormon. It had
been nearly two months since the CES Letter, and I <i>still</i> felt nothing:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“I finished
the Book of Mormon this morning. It didn’t feel like a celebratory moment or
achievement the way it had before. It didn’t feel like much of anything.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Performing
Revelation<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">On the long
flight home from Europe, I finally got around to reading some of my friend’s
recommended sources. The first was the 2016 <a href="https://escholarship.org/uc/item/86h814zv" target="_blank">PhD dissertation</a> by William Davis.
The dissertation explores Joseph Smith’s dictation of the Book of Mormon as
“one of the longest recorded oral performances in the history of the United
States.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Valuable at
least as much for the footnoted citations as the writing itself, Davis’ work
significantly eroded the strength of the argument I had long clung to — that
Joseph simply wasn’t capable of dictating the Book of Mormon. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Some of the
salient facts that stood out in his research included the following:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A
formal and informal education system in Upstate New York that prized oratory,
oral learning, and oral memorization (including recitation of extended passages
of the Bible);</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph’s
Methodist training in extemporaneous oratory and participation in debate
societies;</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">A
cultural milieu that leaned heavily on the “unlearned oracle” trope — the idea
that a mouthpiece for God was be deemed <i>more</i> credible the <i>less</i>
education they had; and</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph
(and others in his family) leaning into that trope by misrepresenting the extent
of Joseph’s schooling and education.</span></li></ul><p></p><!--[if !supportLists]--><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">On that
last point, I noted above Emma’s statement that Joseph supposedly “could
neither write nor dictate a well-worded letter; let alone dictat[e] a book like
the Book of Mormon.” [Though in fairness to Emma, some historians believe she
made this statement with her tongue firmly in cheek.] </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">There is also <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/manual/the-pearl-of-great-price-student-manual/joseph-smith-history?lang=eng" target="_blank">this statement</a> from the church, citing Joseph himself:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">In
1832, while dictating an account of his life, Smith claimed of his childhood
that his indigent circumstances, “required the exertions of all that were able
to render any assistance for the support of the family; therefore, we were
deprived of the benefit of an education. Suffice it to say, I was merely
instructed in reading, writing and the ground rules of arithmetic, which
constituted my whole literary acquirements.” “History of Joseph Smith by
Himself,” Church History in the Fulness of Times, 29–30)</span> </blockquote><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Davis’
research reveals that Joseph actually had the equivalent of at least 7 years of
formal schooling, possibly up to 10. And that is without accounting for the
extent of Joseph’s informal schooling, which included the fact that his father,
Joseph Smith, Sr., had been a professional school teacher (as had Joseph's maternal
grandmother). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">While none
of the above insights were definitive about the origin of the Book of Mormon,
they certainly ran contrary to the church’s correlated narrative. And after
reading Davis' piece, I could no longer say with certainty that Joseph couldn’t
possibly have dictated the Book of Mormon. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">What was
even more revealing to me, though, was the additional evidence of Joseph’s
apparent willingness to stretch the truth, this time on the relatively minor
details of his educational background. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I had long
since stopped expecting perfection of God’s prophets, but I still expected
honesty. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">One Last
Time?<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In mid-June
2019, with my belief in the metaphysical origins of the Book of Mormon waning,
I decided one morning to try to give the book one last read — one more chance
for God to fulfill Moroni’s promise in Moroni 10:4-5 (that God would “manifest
the truth [of the book] unto [me], by the power of the Holy Ghost.”).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Just to be
sure.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This time,
though, I couldn’t even make it through one chapter. The few minutes I did
spending reading the first pages of 1 Nephi actually left me <i>anxious</i> and
<i>angry</i>. The entire exercise felt oppressive, a far cry from the
promised peace of former days. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">By that
point, it had apparently become too much to pretend it might be ok that beloved
Book of Mormon figures like Nephi, Jacob, Alma the Younger, King Benjamin,
Abinadi, Helaman, and so many others probably weren't real people. And that stories
like the sons of Helaman, desperate and starving in the wilderness in
between battles against a seemingly unconquerable army, were just figments of
Joseph's vivid imagination. Or to contemplate that Joseph had likely made up
Moroni's touching soliloquy on humility in Ether 12, along with scores of other
passages and stories that I had "liken[ed] unto myself" and clung to
in my own (frequent) desperation. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That
morning, the overwhelming emotion after starting into the book was a feeling of <i>betrayal</i>. I
had given so much of my life to reading, pondering, assimilating, memorizing,
defending, and otherwise “hold[ing] fast” to the Book of Mormon. Now, three
months after I’d first encountered information challenging the book’s origins
and authenticity — three months into my spiritual drought in the wake of that
information — I didn’t want anything to do with the book. It felt like violence
to force myself to keep reading. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">That
was when I <i>finally</i> gave myself permission to set the book aside. In fact, that
was the morning I finally gave myself permission to set aside the church’s
counsel of daily indoctrination (scripture study).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph
Smith: The Making of a Prophet<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Around the
same time, I started into Dan Vogel's research on Joseph Smith. After listening
to a few of his interviews on podcasts, I began reading his lengthy biography, <i>Joseph
Smith: The Making of a Prophet</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">At 744
pages, the book carefully explores Joseph's early years (through to his time in
Ohio). Vogel devotes most of the book’s chapters to a meticulous review of the
Book of Mormon and the events in Joseph’s life surrounding his dictation of
specific parts of that Mormon scripture. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Vogel’s
analysis of the Book of Mormon almost embarrassed me in the way he points out
oddities, incongruities, and anachronisms in the text, nearly all of which I
had never detected before (despite dozens and dozens of faithful readings). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Though no
longer a believer, Vogel's perspective on Joseph Smith embraces the generous
view that Joseph was a "pious fraud," at least in the earlier years
of his life. That is, Vogel argues that Joseph knowingly worked deception, but
that Joseph believed he was deceiving for a good purpose (i.e., to bring people
closer to God). Further, Vogel argues that much of this deception, including
Joseph's early visions and other metaphysical claims, was an outgrowth of
efforts to heal religious divisions in his home — to move his father toward
organized religion.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For a
relative novice like me, Vogel’s research and arguments proved compelling. If
nothing else, they were more persuasive than the increasingly frayed narrative that I had been conditioned to swallow and defend for decades.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Treasure
Digging<o:p></o:p></span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Vogel’s
voluminous research is rife with examples of Joseph’s shifting accounts of
metaphysical claims, but it was one of the simpler bits of research that made
matters plain for me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In Joseph's
own history (canonized in the Pearl of Great Price), Joseph indicates his
history with treasure digging was a one-off experience with Josiah Stoal.
According to Joseph’s account, Stoal had "heard something of a silver
mine" left behind by ancient Spaniards and had hired Joseph simply to help dig it
out. Then, after a month of digging, Joseph claims he finally prevailed on
Stoal to give up the endeavor. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph
concludes the passage, "Hence arose the very prevalent story of my having
been a money digger." [JSH 1:56].<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The thing is,
even a rudimentary bit of historical research demonstrates Joseph is <i>clearly</i>
minimizing here — “minimizing” being a softer way of describing when someone
lies by not telling the whole truth about their conduct. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Contrary to
Joseph’s version of events, his early years apparently included an <i>extensive</i>
history of treasure digging — at least 18 such digs, according to <a href="https://www.dialoguejournal.com/wp-content/uploads/sbi/articles/Dialogue_V27N03_211.pdf" target="_blank">Vogel’s research</a>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Moreover,
Joseph was not simply the hired hand he had claimed to be; he, in fact, held
himself out as a young oracle (typically using a peep stone) that would point
the gullible to locations of purported buried treasure. And he would go
further, describing the guardian spirits watching over this treasure, as well as the magical/occult measures necessary to ward them off (which measures always
failed, for one reason or another).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Implications
of a Lie<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">To be sure,
Joseph’s misadventures as a scryer are troubling enough — especially upon
learning that he used one of those same peep stones to translate the Book of
Mormon. For me, though, the difficulties believing Joseph Smith was a prophet
multiplied exponentially when I realized that Joseph <i>felt both the liberty
and license to lie about his extensive connection to treasure digging</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Why?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;"> And what did it mean
that God’s supposed mouthpiece — “the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, [who] has
done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any
other man that ever lived in it” [D&C 135:3] — was repeatedly dishonest? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It took me
longer than it should have, but eventually my thoughts reverted to my work as a
prosecutor. In that role, much of my job involves assessing criminal cases and
readying them for trial (trial before 12 members of the community where my side
always retains the burden of proof, and that burden requires convincing all 12 jurors "beyond a reasonable doubt"). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Part of my
work includes preparing witnesses and gauging their credibility. Also,
preparing to cross-examine defense witnesses, including often the defendants
themselves (if they elect to testify). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I fear
saying this publicly will jinx me, but thus far, in my nearly 15 years as a
prosecutor, I have yet to lose a case where I have caught the defendant in a
lie. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The reasons
for that are probably intuitive to most, but for me, it boils down to two things:
(1) catching someone in a lie almost always destroys their credibility as a
witness, and (2) people generally lie when they have something to hide. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">So, when
I'm fortunate enough to catch a defendant in a lie, one of the focal points of
my closing argument is to spend time exploring with the jury <i>what</i> the
defendant was trying to hide with their lie(s) (evidence of their guilt) and <i>why</i>
(to avoid getting caught). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This faith
crisis of mine wasn’t <i>exactly</i> a trial scenario, but my research had now
caught Joseph Smith in several obvious lies. So, invoking my simple approach, I
asked myself, “What was Joseph trying to hide with these obvious lies?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The
truth of his education and upbringing, his extensive involvement in treasure
digging, and later, his marital practices. <o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Then, the
follow-up question: “Why did he lie — <i>repeatedly</i>?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I won’t
pretend to know all the reasons, but at the very least, Joseph clearly believed
the truth — of his circumstances and practices — was not sufficient to persuade
people of his metaphysical claims and divine mandate. <i>He thought lying would
help persuade people he was God’s prophet.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">For me, the
fact that Joseph believed he needed to lie, <i>and that he was comfortable with
lying</i>, told me enough.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Not a
Credible Witness<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I realized
that Joseph Smith was <i>not</i> a credible witness — even if I wanted to
believe him. It further occurred to me that, if he were a potential witness in
one of my criminal cases, I could never put him on the witness stand; the
significant changes to his stories over the years, in addition to his repeated,
demonstrable lies, meant that he would never survive a competent
cross-examination.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Perhaps
there is some meaningful incongruency in my analogy, but if there is, it's lost
on me. Federal criminal cases can certainly be high stakes, but those stakes
still rather pale in comparison to matters of eternal salvation and exaltation,
right? So if anything, I would expect God to be <i>even more selective</i>
about the witnesses of his work than I would be in mine. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Would God
really make the eternal destiny of his children dependent on taking an
otherwise unreliable witness at his word? Would God really expect me to trust
my life to the purported revelations and authority of a man that was
demonstrably dishonest? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">No — at
least not the God I had worshipped. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">[Of course,
my former self might have argued that the Holy Ghost could help me discern
spiritual truth, even from the most unreliable of witnesses. So perhaps there’s
the rub: I no longer had any confidence the Holy Ghost was what I thought it
was, or if it was a real thing at all. And if it was real, my strong
inclinations toward truth, integrity, and goodness were moving me <i>away</i>
from Mormonism. And really, if God would choose a serially dishonest person as
his mouthpiece (even if that person is a pious fraud), then he’s not the God I
thought he was. Nor the God he claims to be.]<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Make
it Make Sense<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">My
increasing clarity on the above point helped me finally resolve a host of
issues that had strained my proverbial shelf as a believer:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph’s
shifting accounts of his First Vision;</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">the
myriad <a href="http://www.mormonthink.com/witnessesweb.htm" target="_blank">issues</a> with the reliability of the “witnesses” of the gold plates [again, if proper witnesses of these plates were such a big deal to God, why are there so many issues surrounding the circumstances of the purported “testimonies?” If he wanted to, God must have known how to make sure these witness accounts were ironclad. And if the answer to all of those issues is something about demonstrating/exercising/testing "faith" — then why the hell would God bother with witnesses at all? What good are witness testimonies if they can't withstand even a modicum of scrutiny? If we're supposed to take <i>those</i> on faith as well?];</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph's
use of a seer stone (one of the same stones he used to “see” buried treasure
and guardian spirits in earlier years) to translate the Book of Mormon;</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">the
problematic historical, textual, and racial issues in the Book of Mormon, the same book Joseph Smith had boasted “the most correct of any book on earth”; </span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">the
(mis)translations of The Book of Abraham and Kinderhook Plates; </span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph’s
apparent <a href="https://www.ldsdiscussions.com/priesthood" target="_blank">backdating</a> of the priesthood restoration timeline; and</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Joseph’s
morally dubious “revelations” and efforts to compel women into polygamous and
polyandrous marriages (while hiding the nature of those relationships from the
world, and often from Emma).</span></li></ul><p></p><!--[if !supportLists]--><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Employing
STEEL tools as best I knew how, by the time I finished Vogel's book (in early
July 2019), this much seemed clear to me: The Book of Mormon was still remarkable, but it is not what it claims to be. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Also, Joseph Smith was <i>not</i> a
prophet. Pious or otherwise, he was a fraud, a charlatan.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Conclusions<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">If Joseph
Smith wasn't God's prophet, this meant, too, that the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints isn't what it claims to be.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">The more
distant I get from the church (the less I need it to be what I once
thought it was), the more obvious that has become. It has certainly helped
explain the church’s long history of racism, sexism, misogyny, homophobia, and
transphobia [and why God never sent to his subsequent prophets more angels with
flaming swords to stop the harms inflicted in his name]. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It also
helped me understand why a faith that claims unique (and compelling) divine
truth, and further claims to prize agency, has serious, serious lingering
issues with informed consent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Still,
these were anything but welcome conclusions for me, except in the fact that
they had the ring of truth. [In fact, this is how I described the day that I
finished Vogel's book: “I feel lousy today. I feel lost. I feel stuck. I feel
lonely.”] And actually, given how much of my life I had invested in Mormonism
and its cosmology, these felt like the worst possible conclusions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I had not
set out on this effort because I “<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2021/04/49nelson?lang=eng" target="_blank">hope[d] that [I could] find a flaw in the fabric of a prophet’s life or a discrepancy in the scriptures.</a>” I had been
trying, desperately, to <i>save</i> my faith. I set out believing that we had
the truth, and that “it could not be harmed by investigation.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">As I've
alluded to before, the disillusionment I felt in the face of these unwelcome
answers brought on a range of emotions, which most closely resembled the
various stages of grief. There was certainly nothing close to the smug delight
or devilish sense of triumph that church leaders ascribe to those of us in crisis. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">All along (<i>and
still</i>), I really just wanted to do what was right. I was still
trying to earnestly seek God and feel reassured of his presence, but it felt
like he had abandoned me. There was still a pavilion blocking him, and it had
been in place ever since that fateful Saturday night in late March 2019 — after
I first confronted the terrifying possibility he might not be there. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Here's the thing, though: the length and extent of my earnest efforts to seek God <i>on his terms</i> had made it clear to me that, </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16px;">whatever the reason for the pavilion,</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16px;"> <i>it wasn't my fault</i>.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt;">So, where
did this leave me?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">As I noted at the outset of this post, it left me in Hell.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">It was a different version of Hell, though, from the one I grew up afraid of.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-70801275412671175972021-05-05T11:12:00.006-07:002021-12-03T11:41:51.072-08:00No Empty Chairs<p> </p><p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>When holding your breath is safer
than breathing<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>When letting go is braver than
keeping<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>When innocent words turn to lies<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>And you can't hide by closing your
eyes<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>When pain is all that they offer<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>Like the kiss from the lips of a
monster<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>You know the famine so well, but
never met the feast<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>When home is the belly of a beast<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>The ocean is wild and over your
head<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>And the boat beneath you is
sinking<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>Don't need room for your bags,
hope is all that you have<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>So say the Lord's Prayer twice,
hold your babies tight<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>Surely someone will reach out a
hand<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>And show you a safe place to land<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>Oh, imagine yourself in a building<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>Up in flames, being told to stand
still<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>The window's wide open, this leap is on faith<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>You don't know who will catch you,
but maybe somebody will<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>The ocean is wild and over your
head<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>And the boat beneath you is
sinking<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>Don't need room for your bags,
hope is all that you have<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>So say the Lord's Prayer twice,
hold your babies tight<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>Surely someone will reach out a
hand<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i>And show you a safe place to land</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[Sarah Bareilles - "Safe
Place to Land"]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Near the climax of C.S. Lewis’s <i>The Horse and His Boy,</i> the
young protagonist, Shasta, finds himself traveling mournfully (on his horse)
over a mountain pass. It is dark and cold, and all seems lost. In the gloom of
that setting, Shasta begins recounting to himself his <i>many</i> troubles, and
he almost can’t help thinking himself the most unlucky boy in the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Somewhere in the middle of his sad thoughts, Shasta realizes there
is a large creature walking beside him — he can tell only because he hears the
creature breathing. The beast, whom the reader recognizes as the lion Aslan
(the messianic figure in <i>The Chronicles of Narnia</i>), eventually speaks
and invites Shasta to share his sorrows. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Not yet knowing his companion is a lion, Shasta relays his woeful
story, including a few frightening encounters with lions at various points in
his journey. Soon enough, though, Aslan reveals himself as the <i>very lion</i>
in each of those incidents, only now explaining how his frightening presence in
those moments had been necessary to guide Shasta and his friends to where they
needed to be at key points in the narrative. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Upon hearing this, Shasta then wonders aloud why Aslan had
attacked (and wounded) his friend Aravis early in the story. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">"<i>Child</i>," said Aslan, "<i>I am telling you
your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own</i>." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I’ve thought of that exchange many times over the years, most
often when I’ve been tempted to interpret or explain the “why” of someone
else’s story. Even over the course of this project, it has grounded me when
I’ve felt inclinations to generalize my own experiences to a broader swath of
people: <i>I can tell no one’s story but my own</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But recently, I’ve also found in that story a growing bit of encouragement,
too, and it has brought clarifying reassurance when I start to feel my efforts
here are a fool’s errand: <i>no one else can (properly) tell my story but me. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">So to any still reading, I offer this explicit caution and
reassurance: I am telling no one’s story but my own. And to the extent you
might find in my story a resonance or dissonance with yours, that is entirely <i>your</i>
story to tell.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This post brings the narrative right up to the precipice of my faith deconstruction (which will be the subject of my <i>next</i> post). To get
to there, this entry revisits several key memories from the last 10 years —
moments when my faith-filled narrative brushed up against others wrestling with
their own loss of faith. In all, I share a series of six such experiences (with
permission) that ultimately converge on an inflection point in early 2019. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fair warning: this is my longest post yet. Each of these stories,
though, is a necessary plot point along the evolution of my Mormon faith.
Further, they provide important context into what it would eventually mean for
me to lose that faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Beyond that, though, these experiences also allow a glimpse into the
brave and difficult stories of some of my favorite people in the world. In
fact, it is not hyperbole to tell you I now consider many of these memories
sacred. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">No Empty Chairs</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Leaving Mormonism is a big deal. I’ve been hinting at this all
along, and it’s something immediately understood by anyone who has ever made a
serious investment in the faith. For those with only minimal exposure to high
demand religion, though, the fallout can seem unduly harsh. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">It bears mentioning again here that the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints claims to be God’s one true church on the earth. Also, it
claims to be the only church authorized to act in God’s name. This authority
(the “priesthood”) is necessary to perform the saving ordinances (e.g., baptism
and confirmation, the temple endowment, and the sealing [marriage], etc.) that
make it possible to attain the highest degree of heaven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In effect, this means that Mormons believe that only Mormons will
return to live with God. And if you die without getting the proper opportunity
to become Mormon, the living can still make it happen posthumously (though, in
theory, you have the chance to reject the proxy ordinances).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">It is not enough, though, simply to join the faith and receive all
the ordinances. Once you’re in, you then need to “press forward with a
steadfastness in Christ” and “endure to the end” (2 Nephi 31:20). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The full meaning of those two phrases could well be the subject of
treatises, but essentially they amount to trying your best to do all the things
until you die.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Among the ordinances I referenced above, the sealing ordinance is
performed only in temples and is necessary to “bind” a family together in the
next life. Without it, we are told that you will not and cannot have the
familial relationships there that you enjoy in this life: spouse, parents,
siblings, children, grandparents, grandchildren, aunts, and uncles,
etc. Yes, one of our hymns preaches that “families can be together
forever,” but that only happens <i>if</i> everyone is bound together by the
sealing ordinance <i>and</i> everyone thereafter tries their best to do all the
things in Mormonism until they are safely dead. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In other words, families <i>can</i> be together forever — <i>if</i>
everyone does all the things. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This doctrine can be incredibly motivating, and there is a shared
notion within many Mormon families that everyone take the proper steps to
ensure there are “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMW-TeuUy2c&t=5s" target="_blank">no empty chairs</a>” at the family table in Heaven.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_604b_d13d_2ca0_db29" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKalYV4W2bGsoXB-u8Zf8X_WEfaNPUxxl4p7WikdUvKwE0nvYXMI0WUpNqfd-N7fnXGVxqrj7KcA69MeFLu0grzhbnW0QsBBDcBcva0GIqougSolCqA1ec0W_WkM5hBaVw6l8EZA/s2048/No+Empty+Chairs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" id="id_64dd_997b_ad79_9812" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKalYV4W2bGsoXB-u8Zf8X_WEfaNPUxxl4p7WikdUvKwE0nvYXMI0WUpNqfd-N7fnXGVxqrj7KcA69MeFLu0grzhbnW0QsBBDcBcva0GIqougSolCqA1ec0W_WkM5hBaVw6l8EZA/s320/No+Empty+Chairs.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But this doctrine has a pernicious and damaging side, too, and it
seems to show up whenever loved ones stray from the “covenant path” of
Mormonism. Because the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is God's one
true church, and because it's only through the church and the priesthood
ordinances that one can return to God, there are no good reasons for leaving
the faith. And in fact, The Book of Mormon promises that anyone who
"hearken[s] unto the word of God, and would hold fast unto it" would
"never perish [surely in the spiritual sense], neither could the
temptations and the fiery darts of the adversary overpower them until
blindness, to lead them away unto destruction." (1 Nephi 15:24).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For me, the truth and logic of that scripture always meant two
things: (1) that if one "hearken[ed] and held fast" to the word of
God, they would never fall away from the faith, and (2) whatever anyone's
explanation for leaving the faith, I could be certain they weren't meeting the
requirements of (1).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[Apostle Dieter F. Uchtdorf once offered <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2013/11/saturday-morning-session/come-join-with-us?lang=eng" target="_blank">a lone (relative) olivebranch</a> to those who leave — at least the only olive branch I’m aware of. In a
2013 address he conceded that it is "not that simple" to assume that
people leave the faith "because they have been offended or lazy or
sinful." Still many, many other statements suggest otherwise, including
President Russell M. Nelson's <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2021/04/49nelson?lang=eng" target="_blank">reference</a> last month to "lazy learners"
and those who supposedly study "with the hope that [they] can find a flaw
in the fabric of a prophet’s life or a discrepancy in the scriptures." The
tenor of Nelson’s comments, which play to the orthodox crowd, perpetuate a fundamental
misunderstanding of what often spurs the faithful to leave. And at their worst,
comments like his become the model for the rest of the membership on how to
frame the choices of those who leave. To put it mildly, his approach seems to be
the opposite of helpful.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Sad Heaven</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">If one still chooses to leave the faith, the fallout doesn’t just
affect their own prospects for eternal happiness, <i>but their entire family's</i>
— since those remaining in the faith (presumably still bound for the highest
degree of heaven) now face the likely prospect of an "empty chair" at
the family table in Heaven.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Outside of mainstream Mormonism, this idea is commonly referred to
as “sad heaven,” since it understandably wouldn’t be as happy a Heaven without
the company of all of the people you care about. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[Yes, I am aware of statements from past church leaders that try
to hedge this doctrine. So is apostle David A. Bednar, who <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2014/03/faithful-parents-and-wayward-children-sustaining-hope-while-overcoming-misunderstanding?lang=eng" target="_blank">doesn't want people
getting too carried away</a> with the idea that wayward children of faithful parents
might get a free pass, or even a reduced fare.] <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Recently, Nelson devoted an <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2019/04/46nelson?lang=eng" target="_blank">entire sermon</a> to this idea. After
talking about his daughter passing away — and noting how proud she made him
because she had remained faithful throughout her life — Nelson went on to
remind everyone that their families would <i>not</i> be together in the next
life unless <i>each</i> did all the things:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The spirit in each of us naturally yearns for family love to last forever. Love songs perpetuate a false hope that love is all you need if you want to be together forever. And some erroneously believe that the Resurrection of Jesus Christ provides a promise that all people will be with their loved ones after death.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">In truth, the Savior Himself has made it abundantly clear that while His Resurrection assures that every person who ever lived will indeed be resurrected and live forever, much more is required if we want to have the high privilege of exaltation. Salvation is an individual matter, but exaltation is a family matter.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">….</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">So, what is required for a family to be exalted forever? We qualify for that privilege by making covenants with God, keeping those covenants, and receiving essential ordinances.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">….</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The Savior invites all to follow Him into the waters of baptism and, in time, to make additional covenants with God in the temple and receive and be faithful to those further essential ordinances. All these are required if we want to be exalted with our families and with God forever.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The anguish of my heart is that many people whom I love, whom I admire, and whom I respect decline His invitation. They ignore the pleadings of Jesus Christ when He beckons, “Come, follow me.” [emphasis in original].</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></blockquote>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">To drive home his message, Nelson offers an extended back-handed compliment and warning to the “wonderful men and women” who reject Mormon covenants, opting instead for a “most meager roof over [their] heads” (instead of a mansion) in the next life: </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I understand why God weeps. I also weep for such friends and relatives. They are wonderful men and women, devoted to their family and civic responsibilities. They give generously of their time, energy, and resources. And the world is better for their efforts. But they have chosen not to make covenants with God. They have not received the ordinances that will exalt them with their families and bind them together forever.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">….</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">They need to understand that while there is a place for them hereafter—with wonderful men and women who also chose not to make covenants with God—that is not the place where families will be reunited and be given the privilege to live and progress forever. That is not the kingdom where they will experience the fulness of joy—of never-ending progression and happiness. Those consummate blessings can come only by living in an exalted celestial realm with God, our Eternal Father; His Son, Jesus Christ; and our wonderful, worthy, and qualified family members.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I feel to say to my reticent friends:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">“In this life, you have never settled for second best in anything. Yet, as you resist fully embracing the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, you are choosing to settle for second best.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">“The Savior said, ‘In my Father’s house are many mansions.’ However, as you choose not to make covenants with God, you are settling for a most meager roof over your head throughout all eternity.”</span></p></blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">[Personally, I find Nelson’s remarks problematic on several levels, though I’m inclined to believe he’s doing the best he knows how with the information he has. My chief concern isn’t with Nelson, per se, but that his disconcerting message draws upon ideas already firmly rooted in the core doctrines of Mormonism. And again, the message is “disconcerting” not so much to those who have left (at least those who don’t believe Nelson speaks for God), but for those <i>still in</i> the faith — those who will take Nelson at his word and who have loved ones that have left. For these faithful saints, unless they can prevail upon their straying loved ones to return, Mormonism promises them a sad heaven, albeit one with palatial living space.] </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Whether or not these doctrines resonate with you, they are a
necessary part of understanding the anxiety and depth of emotion attached to
some of the experiences that follow. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">First Brush: An Irvine Connection </span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I mentioned before that we lived in Irvine in from 2005-2006. In our time there, I attended church with quite a few lawyers. One of them was the president of the elders’ quorum. A few years older than me, and equal parts self-assured and self-deprecating, I couldn’t help but admire the man — in no small part because he seemed to be thriving as a young Mormon lawyer in private practice. Some of his spiritual insights, too, would have lasting effects on my own approach to discipleship. And midway through that year, when I became overwhelmed as a first-year associate at a law firm, he went out of his way one evening to talk with me about “coping strategies” for young Mormon lawyers. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Facebook wouldn’t become a thing for me until years later. But when it did, we connected there. And that was about the extent of my contact with him after we left for San Diego.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">In early 2012, though, seemingly out of nowhere, my friend left some comments on Facebook indicating that he was both disillusioned with Mormonism and now an atheist. He talked about “coming out” with his disillusionment, and it costing him his marriage. Further, he mentioned that his parents and a sibling now refused to have any interaction with him.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Despite all that, he claimed he was happy and that he’d found his “perfect match” in an ex-Mormon girl. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">My friend also included a link to a blog by a former LDS bishop who had left the faith. In the blog, this ex-bishop described doubts creeping in as he determined to understand (and refute) why his brother had left the church. The ex-bishop then described learning things about Joseph Smith that were “too disturbing to set aside.” So he left the faith, and the week before leaving, the ex-bishop gave a talk to his congregation about loving those who leave the church.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">My friend’s posts left me terribly unsettled. And in my free moments that day, I thought of little else. I retraced my interactions with my friend from years before, as well as everything else I knew of him. I remembered him bearing powerful testimony during fast and testimony meetings in our Irvine ward. I also remembered his diligent work as our elders’ quorum president and comments he had made in ward council.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The idea that this same man had now left the faith felt like a heavy, heavy blow. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">That night, I wrote an extended journal entry, hoping to work through my discomfort — trying to understand and piece together (on precious little information) how someone as strong as my friend could end up leaving:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">How? Why? He knew as well as I did (didn’t he?) where to find answers on the questions that really matter and how to feel them. He’d felt them (hadn’t he?). He’d tasted of the fruit of the tree of life – he must have – and led his family to partake also [1 Nephi 8]. I don’t understand. I can’t understand. Had he seen or understood something that I had missed? Something that had upended his family – his whole life for that matter?</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I don’t know. People like [my friend] (and I haven’t known many) who dabble in putting the gospel under the lens of secular learning and scrutiny always seem so much smarter and better informed than I am. They gravitate toward discussions on the margins of the gospel or curious aspects of church history that are difficult to swallow, even in context. I avoid such discussions and have little interest in them. Not just because of how they make me feel, but because they don’t seem to be much help. And I often times all but reject the notion of applying a secular lens to gospel learning – where truth most often needs to be felt to be proven, not measured against the scientific method.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">And there are parts of church history – parts of Joseph Smith’s history – that are difficult for me, glossed over (or even ignored) in the materials put out by the church. This is why learning of them for the first time, in Rough Stone Rolling, proved to be such a difficult thing for me. Joseph [Smith] had real flaws and seemed to make real errors of judgment, and some things really seem unexplainable.</span></p></blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Eventually, though, I would find catharsis as my thoughts turned to the Book of Mormon and how it made me feel:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">But, and this is what I can’t get past, the Book of Mormon is true. [Joseph Smith] didn’t write it. He couldn’t have written it. It is the evidence that Joseph [Smith] saw what he said he saw. That he was a prophet. I am as intimately acquainted with that book as I am with anything in this life, and I know he couldn’t have written it. It is true, worlds without end.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">It is striking to me that one such as [my friend] would (or could) lose sight of that simple fact. Did he let go of the iron rod [the word of God]? I don’t know. But I haven’t. And my witness of the Book of Mormon and, consequently, the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, extends far beyond the limits of indoctrination and social conditioning. I have felt it, and everything in me rings out that it’s true. </span></p></blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">[The “indoctrination” and “social conditioning” comment makes me smile now, because I would have been at a loss if pressed to describe what either of those ideas actually felt like. I was apparently still sure enough, though, they couldn’t feel like what I had experienced in the faith. It is also particularly ironic given a comment my friend made when we reconnected and compared notes recently. After telling me about his own post-Mormon faith journey and spiritual practice, he mentioned (unsolicited) that he sees now in his former Mormon beliefs the clear effects of social conditioning.]</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The next day, my journal indicates that I had made peace with my friend’s loss of faith — without ever needing to approach him and ask him what happened:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I have felt less rattled today by [my friend] as I’ve felt the Holy Ghost and been reminded how truth feels and how much and how often I have felt the truth of this latter-day work.</span></blockquote><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Second Brush: A Regrettable Defense (Bryan)</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Nearly three years later, in December 2014, my brother Bryan
confided in me some of his doubts about the church. Not long before, he had
proposed to his boyfriend, and they were engaged. At this point, though, Bryan
had forwarded the link to a blog post by a couple that had recently left the
LDS church. The post contained a lengthy list of pointed questions about
several aspects of church history. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Bryan mentioned that the concerns expressed in the post were now
his. He wanted my thoughts. [I don’t know if I fully appreciated at the time
the trust and vulnerability reflected in Bryan letting me in to see this part
of him.]<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I gave the blog post a cursory read, and, a few days later,
responded with a<i> lengthy </i>email. That email is perhaps <i>the</i> most
cringe-inducing thing I've ever said or written (which is saying something). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I admitted to Bryan that I was not a historian, and I didn't have
specific answers to many of the questions posed. But then, I didn't seem to
need specifics. Reading <i>Rough Stone Rolling </i>years before had left me
feeling like I was inoculated from critiques based on church history — that my
faith had already survived everything history could legitimately throw at me.
In fact, by that point, I was even telling Bryan that I <i>took comfort</i> in
the troubling aspects of Joseph Smith’s history and character: if God could
(and would) work with Joseph Smith despite his myriad imperfections, maybe
there was hope for me, too. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[This perspective was not original to me — it was <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/1986/08/a-choice-seer.p99-p100?lang=eng#p99" target="_blank">first advanced by Lorenzo Snow</a>, fifth prophet and president of the LDS church. In recent
years, this specific approach seems to be an increasingly common defense of
early church leaders, as scholarship sheds more and more light on their lives
and conduct. It also utilizes my <i>favorite</i> technique in persuasive
writing and argument: turning an opponent’s most forceful argument on its head
to actually reinforce your contrary position. It worked so well for me at the
time because (1) I was (intentionally) hazy on the more troubling specifics of
Joseph’s life, and (2) I was thirsty for any hints of grace for my own
weaknesses. Now, though, it now amazes me the extent to which the church (and
I) could strain at gnats over relatively minor conduct (e.g., coffee will keep
you out of the temple and, ostensibly, Heaven), yet would still anxiously swallow
the camels of Joseph’s most egregious behavior.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I pointed Bryan to my testimony of the Book of Mormon, and the
assurance I felt that it <i>must</i> be true. As part of that testimony, I
cited both late apostle Bruce R. McConkie and a <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2009/10/safety-for-the-soul?lang=eng" target="_blank">2009 seminal address</a> from
Jeffrey R. Holland:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">First, nothing you sent or that I have read comes close to swaying
me that the Book of Mormon is anything but divine. I believe I have read it
somewhere between 40-50 times (and I’m closing in on finishing it yet again).
The fact is, I have studied that book more than anything – anything. And I have
often (in the face of other things like this that have come up before) gone
page by page, as Elder McConkie once suggested, and asked myself, “Could Joseph
Smith have written this?” And the answers comes often that there is no way,
absolutely no way, that he wrote it. In this regard, I could borrow from Elder
Holland’s words as if they were my own:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“For 179 years this book has been examined and attacked, denied
and deconstructed, targeted and torn apart like perhaps no other book in modern
religious history—perhaps like no other book in any religious history. And
still it stands. Failed theories about its origins have been born and parroted
and have died—from Ethan Smith to Solomon Spaulding to deranged paranoid to
cunning genius. None of these frankly pathetic answers for this book has ever
withstood examination because there is no other answer than the one Joseph gave
as its young unlearned translator. In this I stand with my own
great-grandfather, who said simply enough, ‘No wicked man could write such a
book as this; and no good man would write it, unless it were true and he were
commanded of God to do so.’”</span></p></blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In the second half of my response to Bryan, I got more personal
and daring. The blog post he had sent made repeated reference to “confirmation
bias,” but I saw no accounting for the feelings of the Holy Ghost. To me, that
was telling, as I was certain the two concepts were <i>not</i> the same thing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Working from the premise that spiritual truths had to be felt to
be fully understood, I reasoned that one’s ability to discern spiritual truths
had everything to do with one’s ability to feel the Holy Ghost. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And as I’ve mentioned before, Mormonism teaches that you have to
be “worthy” to have the companionship of the Holy Ghost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Regrettably, but perhaps predictably, I then turned Bryan’s
inquiry back onto himself, wondering openly how much his doubts were the result
of not being worthy of the guidance of the Holy Ghost: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Only you can really answer for yourself, but where are you with your scripture study habits? The Word of Wisdom? Sabbath day observance? Media choices? The law of chastity? I don’t mention these to try and induce guilt – I mention them because they are primarily standards that are meant to keep us worthy of, and attentive to, the promptings of the Holy Ghost. </span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">And then, to sink the knife in further, I noted that his personal blog entries and social media posts had indicated there were things from his teenage years he had never properly repented of (i.e., confessed to priesthood leaders). And so I wondered how long it had really been since he had felt the Holy Ghost's companionship. And might not this be the explanation for his doubts and spiritual darkness?</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">And if the Holy Ghost does not have much play in your life (again, only you can answer that), it does not surprise me that you are now questioning the very existence of God, because it’s through the Holy Ghost (not through reason) that He reveals himself to us.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Again, I don’t know that I’ve ever said or written anything more regrettable in my life. And yet, in the moment I thought I was being courageous by trying to lovingly give voice to the truth as I had come to know it in Mormonism.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Bryan responded better than anyone could hope for, but the continued back and forth eventually left a rift between us that took some time to heal. And of course, I felt certain at the time that I had nothing to apologize for — I was only trying to speak the truth of my faith, my candor borne out of genuine love for my brother.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Revisiting this incident now, though, it is obvious to me (though I was oblivious at the time) how readily scripture and doctrine can be (mis)used to deflect genuine concerns and criticism: to almost effortlessly turn the lens of inquiry away from the troubling issues themselves and toward the “worthiness” of the critic.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">When I talked with Bryan recently about this experience, he could still remember the feeling that my initial response shut down any further conversation. He noted, "You can't really speak to someone in that type of mindset, because it doesn't allow for anything else."</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Third Brush: A Family Friend Leaves (Andrew and Jamie) </span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A few weeks before Dad died, he emailed me giddy about a wonderful
visit he’d had with our friend Andrew. Andrew is a few years younger than me,
and we’ve known each other from our earliest days in Ilion, NY. Our families
were some of the early members of the local LDS congregation there (the
Herkimer Branch). Depending on the week, our two families could sometimes
account for up to 20% of the Sacrament meeting attendance. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For several of my teenage years, Andrew’s father was our branch
president. Meanwhile, during my sophomore year of high school, his mother was
our seminary teacher.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">One way or another, our families have been close for a long time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For as long as I’ve known Andrew, he has always been one of the
brightest and most intellectually curious people I know. He and his family had
also been among the most faithful in the LDS church. So it caught my attention
around 2014 when his social media posts advocated for gay marriage (he was
among those I reached out to for help reconciling the issue). And after a
prominent Mormon podcaster faced church disciplinary proceedings, Andrew’s
posts indicated a further dissonance with the faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Two weeks before Dad died, Andrew went out of his way to visit
with him for a few hours. Dad could hardly contain himself afterward, writing
effusively about how thrilled he was with the visit. This, notably, even though
Dad reported that Andrew had removed himself from the faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When I pressed Dad for details (because he was rarely this
glowing), Dad wrote of building on commonalities and Andrew’s continued
reverence for our years together in the branch.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A few days later, Andrew also reached out to me, describing his
visit with Dad. That gave me the chance to ask Andrew directly about his
shifting relationship with the church.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Andrew responded with a surprisingly level of candor, noting that
he and his wife, Jamie, had withdrawn from the faith about a year earlier. In a
few cogent paragraphs, he went on to share that they left over issues with the
LDS church’s authority claims, as well as its promotion of several false
doctrines and principles. These unhealthy teachings, Andrew explained, had
created a harmful atmosphere for his immediate family (for Jamie in
particular).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Though he assured me he still valued his spiritual experiences and
many other things about Mormonism, Andrew shared this observation about the
effects of his orthodox upbringing and devotion:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">Looking back, I think my greatest fault or my undoing if you will
was that I took the church too seriously. I believed everything and believed
that you had to believe everything. I took the church and its leaders at their
word and never took a second thought. So when we increasingly brushed up
against historical anomalies and contemporary doctrinal issues, it blindsided
me. </span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I was still firmly in the faith at the time, but I knew <i>exactly </i>what he
was talking about. In that night’s journal entry, I wrote that Andrew’s
response had spurred “great thought.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I also shared his response with Dad, who replied to me in a
characteristically incomplete sentence:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></i></p><blockquote><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Absolutely love and respect his answer and thought process.</span></i></blockquote><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[I had completely forgotten Dad said this, so re-reading his reply
this past month nearly had me in tears. Dad was understandably fond of Andrew,
but his response also gives me new hope — hope that maybe he would have found
similar “love and respect” for my own withdrawal from the
faith.] <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Papa Murphy’s and Martinelli’s</span></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Later that year, in November 2016, we got to host Andrew and Jamie
for an evening of dinner and conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Over a five-star meal of Papa Murphy’s pizza and Martinelli’s,
Michelle and I peppered them with questions about having left the faith. I
remember Jamie, in particular, sharing her story of growing frustrations as a
woman in the church — confronting issues with patriarchy and the troubling
history and doctrine of polygamy. Also that, despite her faithful missionary
service and lifetime in Mormonism, she had never experienced the feeling of the
Holy Ghost.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">That last part didn’t make any sense to me. Though I took Jamie at
her word, could that really be true?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Together Andrew and Jamie recounted their careful, deliberate
process in deciding to leave the faith. Andrew still held onto a semblance of
belief and spirituality, but Jamie described herself as an atheist. That idea —
losing her belief in God entirely — felt completely foreign (and completely
terrifying) to me. Jamie, though, described feeling genuine relief and
happiness in her newfound freedom from religion.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I don’t think I noticed at the time, but both seemed deliberately
vague with us on their specific issues with the church’s foundational truth
claims. Even so, I remember sharing (to counter something said) my now familiar
conviction that Joseph Smith couldn’t have written the Book of Mormon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jamie responded, quickly and firmly, to my well-worn defense
(though I sensed she was trying to remove any hint of confrontation from her
tone). Matter-of-factly, she noted that her experience as an editor made it
clear to her that much of the Book of Mormon was plagiarized.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The rebuttal caught me completely off guard — no one had ever
pushed back <i>like that </i>on my testimony of the Book of Mormon.
And further, the confidence in Jamie’s voice was unnerving. Which is surely why
I didn’t ask her any follow-up questions about that particular insight. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[As a trial lawyer, I’ve been trained repeatedly never to ask a
question on cross-examination that I don’t know the answer to (unless I
am <i>certain </i>the answer can’t possibly hurt my case). With
hindsight now, I think my training had kicked in here.] <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Still, I was curious how they approached life after leaving
Mormonism. What source(s) did they look to now for direction on how to live?
What had replaced the anchoring guidance of their Mormon faith?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[I asked because, surely influenced by apostle M. Russell
Ballard’s <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2016/10/to-whom-shall-we-go?lang=eng" target="_blank">remarks</a> just the month before our visit, the thought of losing the
anchoring of my Mormon faith was deeply unsettling. And the idea of<i> choosing</i>
to leave it behind — without having something commensurate to replace it — was
almost unthinkable.] <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I don’t remember their specific answers to that query, only that
they really hadn’t replaced Mormonism with anything. Instead, they were now
just figuring things out as they went along and trying to lead good, meaningful
lives.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I honestly couldn’t get my head around that at the time. And yet,
leaving the faith (and even letting go of a belief in God in Jamie’s case) had
not seemed to rob them of any of their goodness. If anything, it had augmented
it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">One lingering memory about that evening was that, as it ended,
they thanked us for asking about their experiences leaving the faith. That
seemed a little odd to me, and I think I expressed surprise. They then
explained that, since leaving (nearly two years before), almost no one among
their friends and family still in the faith had asked them about it. And they
described how much lonelier and more isolating the silence made an already
difficult transition.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I hadn’t ever considered how lonely it could be for those leaving.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The next day, I replayed our conversation over and over in my
head, trying to reconcile my feelings of cognitive dissonance (in a way that
affirmed my Mormon faith). It didn’t help that I sensed Andrew and Jamie
were, <i>both of them</i>, smarter and more earnest than me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The inner conflict found its way into my journal that evening:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve also stewed over our visit with Andrew and Jamie last night,
trying to figure out where and why I differ with them on the subject of faith,
the church, and Joseph Smith. Trying to figure out how two such as them —
so intelligent and earnest – could differ from my views on these matters, and
how it is I could think that I know better as to keep believing. In
truth, it’s what drove me back to the Book of Mormon this morning before ward
council, and what drove me to several other talks this morning, hoping for the
familiar feeling of the Holy Ghost to reassure me that my faith was not
foolishness.</span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">By the next night, though, I described feeling “less troubled.” I
further observed “that kind of reassurance has not simply been given for the
asking.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fourth Brush: A Long-Time Friend Loses Faith (Matt Lund)</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Matt Lund and I became friends while I was in high school, after
his family moved to nearby Richfield Springs, NY. Also Mormon, their family of
six quickly became an important pillar in the Herkimer Branch. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">They were a tall bunch, but my lasting impression of the
Lunds is how genuinely kind they are — <i>all of them</i> — to everyone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Matt was a few years older than me and so much cooler. He carried
himself with a confidence, especially with girls, that I envied, and that felt
so far beyond me. We bonded over basketball, among other things, and one of my
favorite basketball memories is playing alongside him (and others) as our
little branch won its first regional title in the church’s youth basketball
tournament. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_d058_29c_f08d_eb9" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1whT7PK7J8zwaFlS4mNsFmoqiZztO5KiS46qDNnzbJ04wKna8KjLryHRcGVt2ihQUTOnu-WZGakrRkvH8iyUVEalw3nGUkie3nefuWSBcmcvIIsF04feU55m8Rtdy2aNhft9tcw/s1230/MT+94.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="1230" id="id_9a9c_e9cb_687a_2157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1whT7PK7J8zwaFlS4mNsFmoqiZztO5KiS46qDNnzbJ04wKna8KjLryHRcGVt2ihQUTOnu-WZGakrRkvH8iyUVEalw3nGUkie3nefuWSBcmcvIIsF04feU55m8Rtdy2aNhft9tcw/s320/MT+94.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Herkimer Branch Young Men's Regional Champions - 1994 (I'm the one in the middle with goggles; Matt Lund is to the left; Jamin LeFave is to the right; Dad is at the far left of the picture)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Matt left on a mission two years before I did, and I left for mine
just before he returned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Near the end of
my missionary service, he married Laura.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When I left home for BYU, Matt and Laura welcomed me to Provo and
helped me adjust to the new surroundings. And once Michelle and I started to
get serious, Matt and Laura quickly befriended her, too, and offered crucial
advice on our first double date to follow our spiritual promptings and pursue
marriage. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Laura thereafter even took a Saturday afternoon to drive us around
to go ring shopping (we didn’t have a car). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Matt and Laura were easily some of our best friends at BYU, and I
have dozens of lingering memories of our Friday night RISK battles, as well as
Saturday mornings playing Madden on Matt’s state-of-the-art PlayStation 2. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Over the years, Matt and I kept loose tabs on each other as
Michelle and I moved around the country. We could go years between
conversations, but it always surprised and delighted me how readily we dove
back into weighty topics — politics, religion, and the meaning of life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In February 2015, while I was in Utah taking the bar exam, I noted
in my journal that I was "very sad" to learn (2nd or 3rd hand) that
Matt and Laura "don't go to church these days." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Lunchtime Conversations</span></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">It would still be another three years before the two of us
introverts had another meaningful conversation. When we did finally get
together, over lunch at the Café Rio in Draper, UT, Matt nervously admitted to
me that he was now essentially an atheist. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I don't remember feeling taken aback by his revelation, and I felt
secure enough at that point that Matt’s loss of faith didn’t feel threatening.
I was interested to know, though, how he'd gotten there — having come from a
space of earnest (mostly orthodox) Mormon belief the last time we'd talked. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I had known that one of his children was transgender, and Matt
mentioned the difficulty in having to confront the LDS church's policies on his
son (which leave no room for transgender identity). Matt also described the
difficulty he would have felt, if he had stayed in the faith, just looking his
son in the eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Matt noted, too, how frequently the church has lagged behind on
social issues (e.g., racism, patriarchy, and misogyny), when one would expect a
divinely-led institution to lead out. And he further wondered why a purportedly
loving, all-powerful God would only reveal himself to a handful of people on
the earth — though he admitted the faithful justification (to require and build
faith) had once felt more compelling than it did now. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">That night, in a familiar effort to reconcile the dissonance, I
wrote in my journal that in Matt’s description of his road to atheism, "I
noticed no talk of the Holy Ghost or accounting for those experiences<i>.</i>"
Describing the Holy Ghost as my "mainstay," I reasoned that
"without the Holy Ghost, left simply with the logic of my own experiences,
I might well be in the same place [Matt is] now. But that has not been my
experience, and the Holy Ghost has been the key to everything." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I also added this observation:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">But I'll also note this
feeling that seemingly is innate in me that there is a God, and that there is
purpose to all of our difficulties. Remove Him from it all, and life for me
becomes darkness. </span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Unimaginable Loss</span></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In May 2018, Matt's father died. Our families had been close for
so long, and we all mourned his loss. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Several in my family attended the funeral. In fact, Michelle, and
my sisters Sarah and Alisha, even sang a musical number — “Sunrise, Sunset”
from <i>Fiddler on the Roof</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I remember watching Matt carefully that day, and I couldn't help
but compare his situation to me losing Dad three years earlier. Matt didn't
believe in God, though, or an after-life. He didn’t believe he would ever see
his dad again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I could hardly imagine<i> that </i>feeling of loss. And a part of
me couldn't help wondering it might turn Matt back toward belief. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_92a7_b44_6f15_d8e4" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrd6dwDTUE7prW5GHICniG1qs5F8gJ_w3D3zjmgk3KH-0U1B7JJbkojUGjAXDcv09QzQ7Xx3qR9xpTfc0q7ApyblnE2wF0Us6kl-vhUBd3RhgGC7A_RIOejgOTTRJPT0MrnC5nQ/s2048/Matt+Lund+and+Aaron+2018.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" id="id_f2fd_6283_ccd7_a3a3" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrd6dwDTUE7prW5GHICniG1qs5F8gJ_w3D3zjmgk3KH-0U1B7JJbkojUGjAXDcv09QzQ7Xx3qR9xpTfc0q7ApyblnE2wF0Us6kl-vhUBd3RhgGC7A_RIOejgOTTRJPT0MrnC5nQ/s320/Matt+Lund+and+Aaron+2018.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Matt Lund and Me - May 2018</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Our semi-regular lunch conversations continued. Months after his
father’s death, I remember asking Matt why atheism hadn't led him down a path
of hedonism. [Apparently at that point, I still figured the only thing holding
humanity back from the constant pursuit of pleasure was belief in God — God and
the hope (or threat) of what awaits in an afterlife.]</span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Matt’s thoughtful response is now a core memory. After validating
my question, Matt observed that he had, mostly, just found other reasons to
keep doing what he had always done. For instance, he wasn't about to run off
and have an affair on Laura because he still loved her, and he knew that kind
of behavior would hurt her. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For a long time afterward, I tried to make sense of Matt’s
response. Even then, it was still so strange to me that people didn't
necessarily need God to want to be "good." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">That lunch was only days before things started to fall apart for
me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fifth Brush: A Best Friend’s Struggle (Jamin LeFave)</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I have known Jamin LeFave since grade school. We are the
same age, and we were both among the handful of young Mormons in the Herkimer
Branch. Jamin went to a rival high school (Little Falls), but we played
together every year on the branch’s basketball team. He and his family were a
familiar, steady presence through my teenage years, and we only got closer as
we aged. By the time we were seniors, we were even going on double dates (with
his now wife, Amber).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">During my freshmen year at Utica College, Jamin was my closest
(and sometimes only) friend. We spent Thursday night's together reveling in the
freedom of new adulthood — splurging on sandwiches from a local grocery store
and watching the Thursday night NBC lineup of TV shows at his apartment. For
spring break we got wild and made a now legendary four-hour roundtrip to the
nearest 7-11. . . just to get a few Slurpees.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We also attended institute together (college-age church classes)
and readied for our missions.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I left for my missionary service in June 1999, expecting I
wouldn’t see my friend for 2+ years. But as fate would have it, Jamin ended up
joining me in the California Roseville Mission a few months later (he was
assigned English-speaking). Jamin’s first area even overlapped with my second,
which allowed us to spend time together on of our first Christmas in the
mission field. [I’ve long since taken for granted how improbable that was.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Our paths would cross several times over the course of our
service, and it was one of my favorite things to catch up with him at zone and
leadership conferences.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_9cf1_e3ce_5ad1_65c8" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsj7OikRmORceK0PYG-PJUsW8rDif8b-lzyb1X4pqCzKTuh1IR49gYwP3mD8dENAobII_DpZRVRccPUG1rzK54uJlIF5eq_dYkihMO6XRC1_Eg38eNR_mfSgvpOrvd5NB-CrTgAw/s1149/Jamin+and+Aaron+Mission.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1149" data-original-width="797" height="320" id="id_f9e5_fb62_eb18_fa48" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsj7OikRmORceK0PYG-PJUsW8rDif8b-lzyb1X4pqCzKTuh1IR49gYwP3mD8dENAobII_DpZRVRccPUG1rzK54uJlIF5eq_dYkihMO6XRC1_Eg38eNR_mfSgvpOrvd5NB-CrTgAw/s320/Jamin+and+Aaron+Mission.jpeg" style="height: auto; width: 222px;" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Elders LeFave and Clark</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Afterward, following a few years together at BYU (he and Amber were part of many of those RISK nights!), we kept in touch
as circumstances brought our growing families to different parts of the country.
And in the last 7+ years, our friendship found new strength as our kids
connected — to the point that the LeFaves are some my family's favorite people
in all the world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For most of the last 7 years, hardly a week has gone by that we
haven’t checked in with each other.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Difficulties with Church History</span></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Our families went camping together in August 2016, and that night
I first learned that Jamin and Amber were having difficulties with the faith.
From what I could gather, at the very least, Amber had issues with Joseph
Smith. Sitting around the glow of the campfire, I remember sharing my pithy
defense of the prophet — that his weaknesses just meant he was also human, and
that his humanity gave me hope.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Amber seemed entirely unpersuaded by my argument, and I had the
distinct feeling she'd been hoping I had something more to offer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In our weekly check-in in early October 2017, Jamin vaguely
disclosed to me that he was experiencing some depression. One of the contributing
factors was that he was “dealing with a crisis of faith and trying to work
through some concerns I have from things I have learned from Church History.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jamin further mentioned that he was trying to work through those
concerns “by trying to come to terms with what I have felt and what I know.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A few days later, I met Jamin for dinner. We talked for hours
about many things, including his faith issues (though I note now that he never
went into specifics with me about his concerns — I would learn later that he
was shielding me). As Jamin relayed his difficulties, I wished I could do more
beyond just sitting with him and listening. I knew better (by then) than to
preach, but I did tell him of my faith that God’s hand was in the details of
our lives, and that we needed our difficulties to help refine us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The next day, though, as I processed our conversation, I wrote
Jamin about my own experiences. I told him that I, too, had dealt with doubts
about church history, and particularly about Joseph Smith. I also told him that
I had managed those doubts by reading the Book of Mormon consistently, over and
over again. Also by seeking the Holy Ghost.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Between those two pursuits, I wrote, I had found the faith, peace,
and reassurance I had been looking for — even if those pursuits didn’t exactly
bring answers to my pressing questions. They did, though, leave me feeling like
I was on solid footing, and they filled me with trust in God.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jamin responded kindly, noting that he had also thought to
re-double his efforts with the Book of Mormon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_54d3_cba4_f39f_b341" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2AUQs0WxY7r8MC-7dRWMrwGdoKRVT31G-5LX9QR758lh_btGgxrXuDrPQMbRP2nIfpBmK7-9gPiI-I6tyiQrnDqixfniDK8DnCTag4v4k9Fark-CsbveEUowQW5-_JDj5nil9g/s2048/Jamin+and+Aaron+2017.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1684" data-original-width="2048" id="id_84a3_42c_a49d_a431" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2AUQs0WxY7r8MC-7dRWMrwGdoKRVT31G-5LX9QR758lh_btGgxrXuDrPQMbRP2nIfpBmK7-9gPiI-I6tyiQrnDqixfniDK8DnCTag4v4k9Fark-CsbveEUowQW5-_JDj5nil9g/s320/Jamin+and+Aaron+2017.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jamin LeFave and Aaron Clark - April 2017</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A Continuing Crisis</span></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We didn’t talk much about it again for months, though in February
2018, Jamin confided again that his faith crisis (which I had hoped had
resolved itself) had been very hard on him. He mentioned specifically that, in
the process of trying to find answers to his concerns, he now had <i>more </i>concerns
“and still no answers.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We met up a few weeks later, and Jamin shared more of what
he <i>and </i>Amber had been through — so they had <i>both </i>been
in a continuing faith crisis. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Two days later, I noted in my journal that “Jamin and Amber’s
situation weighs so heavily on me this morning. I feel responsible for Jamin
and his loss of faith.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As I confided my worries to Michelle, she tried to assuage my
concerns. Yes, maybe the LeFaves would leave the faith for a time, but we knew
their goodness and the earnestness of their efforts. And we could trust them
(and God) that once they had worked through things, the LeFaves would come
back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This perhaps explains why, the following month, I wrote one
morning that my pain (at Jamin and Amber’s loss of faith) had been “swallowed
up.” Echoing what our (Mormon) marriage counselor had been preaching for awhile, I described
feeling keenly that </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">God has given us this life to learn by experience, with
the Savior’s Atonement to make up for the countless mistakes we’ll inevitably
make. So we all plod forward, trying our best to discern the right way to go,
and to align our thoughts and actions with that path.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> And then I noted that,
like me, like Michelle, and like so many others I was worried about at the
time, “Jamin and Amber seem to be trying to do the best they know how<i>.</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">That thought felt very comforting.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A few months later, I took our kids down to Orem for a picnic with
the LeFaves. As the kids played happily together, Jamin, Amber, and I fell into
deep conversation. Amber shared her spiritual journey away
from Mormonism. While she had left the faith, I was amazed by how much of her
perspective resonated with me — a perspective that still leaned heavily on
Jesus and the concept of grace.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jamin, too, shared more of his struggles, though he still seemed
to be in the middle of them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Meanwhile, I talked openly about my love of the Book of Mormon and
my dogged pursuit of charity. I didn’t sense that either of them found my
beliefs threatening. In fact, I realize now that both Jamin and Amber were
deliberately <i>protective </i>of my Mormon faith. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">On the drive home, though, my kids were in tears. They, too, had
learned the Lefaves had mostly stopped attending church. And given what my kids
knew of Mormon Heaven and the requirements to get there, they were devastated
at the possibility that the Lefaves might not be there, too (sad heaven). I
wrote that night: “It’s difficult [for the kids] to process and understand. It
feels near impossible for me to explain.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">"Perpetual Doubter"</span></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jamin and I continued to check in with each other at least weekly,
but it wasn’t until January 2019 that he again mentioned his continuing faith
crisis. He said he was trying to make sense of the past year — trying to regain
some of the faith he once had.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Not long after, we got together for a Saturday morning lifting
session and breakfast. During that time, Jamin eventually shared his
frustrations with a <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/broadcasts/article/worldwide-devotionals/2019/01/11renlund?lang=eng" target="_blank">recent worldwide devotional</a> from apostle Dale G. Renlund
and his wife. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In the Renlunds’ joint address, “Doubt Not, but Be Believing,”
they begin by sharing an animated parable of a boy stranded at sea who is
rescued by an old fisherman in a dilapidated motor boat. The boy is initially
grateful as they make their way to land, but soon he comically begins
complaining about the quality of his rescue and rescuer. Eventually he's so
disgruntled that, implausibly, the boy decides he's better off in the water
(and jumps back in). Laughter ensues as the animation then includes shark fins
beginning to circle the boy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Renlunds then reveal that the boat represents the church, the
fishermen its leaders, and the complaining boy those with doubts about the
faith who leave.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">They also tell the apparently true story of “Stephen,” who had
several concerns about church history. Describing Stephen as a “perpetual
doubter,” they discern “doubting pleased him more than knowing.” They further
claim that Stephen was playing a kind of game with his rotating list of
concerns — “church history whack-a-mole.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And finally, near the conclusion of their remarks, Elder Renlund
refers to those with doubts who leave as “spiritually bankrupt.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Understandably, Jamin found these characterizations alienating and
deeply hurtful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Afterward, as I listened to the address myself, I felt frustrated
for my friend and embarrassed by my faith. The Renlunds’ depictions of those
wrestling with doubts were cartoonish (literally). And they seemed to disregard
entirely the years of real struggle and hurt for earnest people like Jamin —
people who were searching anxiously for something real to hold onto (and losing
hope that they would find it in the church).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Adding to the difficulties, though, is the fact that the Renlunds
weren’t acting alone. Around this same time period, the church put out several
addresses to young adults on doubt and faith (including BYU Idaho President
Henry J. Eyring’s <a href="https://www.byui.edu/devotionals/president-henry-j-eyring-fall-2018" target="_blank">September 2018 devotional</a>, and Elder Lawrence Corbridge’s
<a href="https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/lawrence-e-corbridge/stand-for-ever/" target="_blank">January 2019 BYU devotional</a>). While neither of those other addresses are as
overtly condescending, they are both still deeply problematic in their own
ways. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">These misguided, seemingly coordinated efforts did more damage
than just alienating those already on the margins of the faith (like Jamin),
they also weakened the church’s credibility with some people still trying to
remain firmly in it (like me) — because of how badly they miss the mark in
talking to and about those with doubts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">So when I would confront my own crisis of faith only a few months
later, the church’s diminished credibility made it harder to trust its
purported solutions. And in the end, it hastened my loss of faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Sixth Brush: In the Thick of Things (Brooke and Mat Shaw)</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Mat and Brooke Shaw moved into our Utah neighborhood not too long after we did. From 2016-2017, I was the Young Men’s President in our ward, and Mat worked with me as a Priest’s Quorum Advisor (16-18 year-old young men). Gregarious and usually sporting the coolest socks, Mat laughed easily and seemed to take an interest in everyone. At least to me, he always appeared to be completely at ease. It was impossible not to like him. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Brooke, meanwhile, is probably as introverted as I am. So it understandably took a few years before either of us said anything to each other. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">In early 2017, I asked for a release from the Young Men’s program (my marriage was not in a good place, and I needed more time and energy for my family). In the shuffle of callings, Mat began working with the Deacon’s Quorum (12-13 year-old boys), where Jared was then situated.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">My journal indicates that in early January 2018, I finally prevailed on Mat to join me one early morning at the gym. Brooke was already a steady presence there (on the treadmill), though we both held to an unspoken code not to acknowledge each other — at least until Mat made fun of us for it.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">A few weeks later, Michelle and I gathered up the courage to ask the Shaws over for homemade ice cream. That evening, while our kids played together, the four of us connected on far more than I had expected. And in the end, our conversation ended later than planned, but still somehow too early. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The feeling seemed to be mutual, so we made plans for more get togethers. Few couples, it turns out, made for better company than the Shaws, and it continually surprised me how easy they were to talk to.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Brooke, who at the time was one of Jared’s youth Sunday School teachers, says she opened up to us in May about some of her budding issues with the church (I only vaguely remember this). In August, however, we had the Shaws over for more of Michelle’s homemade ice cream, along with a few of my homemade pizzas. During the conversation afterward, I remember Brooke’s vulnerability as she shared a bit more with us about her difficulties with the faith. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">As I had done so many times before, I remember sharing with her my feelings about the Book of Mormon. I also made some reference to the feelings of the Holy Ghost.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I will never forget the sincere, forlorn tone of Brooke’s response to my testimony, saying something to the effect of, “That’s really good for you, Aaron.” In perhaps the politest way possible, she was conveying that my approach wasn’t going to be helpful for her.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The next day, my continued thoughts about that conversation found their way into my journal: </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-size: medium; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve thought lots today about our evening conversation with the
Shaws, and Brooke’s difficulty with faith. I keep coming back to what feels
best for me: doing what I can to try to be like Jesus.</span></blockquote><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Sushi and Serious Questions</b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">It would be months until our next visit together. One Sunday, however, my ears perked up in Sacrament meeting as I heard Brooke’s name announced over the pulpit: she had been released from her youth Sunday School calling. And adding to the intrigue, she hadn’t been issued a different calling to take its place.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I couldn’t help wondering what part Brooke’s faith difficulties had played in her release. I wanted to ask, but it didn’t feel appropriate.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">At least not yet. In late November 2020, we ventured out for another double date — sushi (which I had tried for years to like). After exchanging sufficient pleasantries, I finally got around to asking that question that had been on my mind for months. Brooke seemed to expect it, and she confirmed that she had asked for a release because of her faith crisis.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Serious conversation followed, and I remember Brooke and Mat sharing with us, among other things, their growing difficulties with Joseph Smith, polygamy, and even tithing (Mat shared his research that only a minuscule percentage of tithing donations — pennies on the dollar — actually go toward charitable causes).</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I remember wanting and trying to be supportive. At the same time, though, I felt a growing ache and emptiness at the thought of Mat and Brooke pulling away from the church — of no longer being “temple worthy” (you have to be a full-tithe player to be eligible to enter the temple).</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I also remember not having answers as they gave more and more details about their growing concerns. At points during the dinner and afterward, the lack of answers felt more disconcerting to me than it had ever felt before.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Afterward, I noted briefly in that night’s journal entry that the Shaws “left me with lots to think about on their own journeys of faith and cognitive dissonance. It was a good talk.”</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The next day, though, I described having slept “fitfully” that night and “thinking deeply about the concerns raised by the Shaws in our visit last night.” I then summarized my familiar resolution to concerns with the faith: </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">What I’ve come to (again) is just how much I want charity, to move toward the Holy Ghost’s companionship and the peace that accompanies it. That is my aim. That is my religion.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Two days later, though, our dinner conversation was still weighing on me, and I described still trying to “sort through” the difficulties I was encountering:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">It’s almost like I have to work through everything all over again to figure out what is real, what is true, and what I believe and why. It’s terribly unsettling, but maybe there’s something to the whole notion of being unsettled and it eventually leading to a more firm foundation (and allowing you to better empathize with others in similar difficulties). The Holy Ghost really does seem to mean everything.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Even a week later, my journal still makes mention of feeling anxious, and that “residual questions following dinner with the Shaws” partially accounted for why I felt on edge.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Mexican Food and More Questions</b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The next month, we met the Shaws for another dinner date — this time at Red Iguana in Salt Lake City.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I wish I could remember all of the details of that pivotal evening. I do remember that as we waited outside for a table, Mat shared that a prominent Mormon podcaster had been <a href="https://www.abc4.com/news/local-news/former-lds-bishop-excommunicated-over-podcast/" target="_blank">recently excommunicated</a>, purportedly for <a href="https://mdpodcast.org/2018/11/mormon-discussion-elder-holland-liar-liar-pants-on-fire/" target="_blank">exposing several blatantly false statements</a> by apostle Jeffrey R. Holland (including one in the Book of Mormon sermon I quoted above in my email to Bryan). </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">That didn’t make <i>any</i> sense to me: Why would Holland lie? And if, by some chance he did, why would the church excommunicate the podcaster simply for exposing the truth of his lies? Why wouldn’t <i>Holland</i> be the one in trouble? </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I just didn’t see how that could be true.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">As we got a table and the evening progressed, we talked about all sorts of things, including more of the Shaws faith concerns — concerns they seemed to be working through in real time. We talked late into the night, and in my journal afterward, I made only the brief notation that our conversation left me “more confused than when the evening started.”</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">That night, though, I again slept fitfully, unsettled by the conversation. And as I got up (early) the next morning, I immediately began wrestling with lots difficult thoughts.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Throughout the day, I retreated to the sources that had usually brought comfort. That evening, I noted how those sources had pulled me back toward “my inclinations to move toward what feels best. To allow for the messiness of mortality and for mistakes by a fallen people living in a fallen world trying to move toward God.”</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">But as to the specifics of the concerns the Shaws had raised, I had no answer:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I can't resolve the doubts and thorny historical issues in doctrine and the practice of early (and modern) church leaders. I can feel with those for whom these doubts seem to consume their faith. I wrestle with these same doubts as they're shared, seeming to absorb and take them on myself. And when I can't resolve them, I feel [the same sort of darkness I felt] this morning. And then I keep trying to move forward the best way I know how, trying to find my way (or my way back) toward what feels best, toward feelings I associate with the Holy Ghost or God's presence. Those feelings settle and comfort me. They lift me and seem to draw me nearer to the God I want to worship and who I'm trying to learn to emulate. Those feelings give life meaning and hope and reassurance that all will be well. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I've noted before that this, increasingly, is becoming my religion, my barometer of truth and the propriety of a course of thought or action. </span></p></blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I continued in this same entry:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I don't have answers for [Mat’s] doubts. He's looked at things more carefully than I have. He's also more troubled by the apparent mistakes of past church leaders and some of their promulgated doctrine. I feel like a simpleton, by comparison, appreciating the feelings of the Holy Ghost and wanting, above all, to move toward Christ and to help others to do the same. </span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I would write further, but this time, there was no catharsis: </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I don't want to be consumed by doubts. I want to have clear answers, and I don't, even when I acknowledge the messiness of mortality and the fallen nature of man and this world. I am working to figure this out, and I am uncomfortable. </span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_c04d_9433_d394_be1a" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJxYJs5BOhNtsNmuf2CUVBUgLg7eZ_JM-lGxT2L503_LZo702hTIewKlk4gWAm2I2YujfzthwcBNwhFh7WDQx5sh-k_Yngy0vX0rwYQ3FwADLgm51TMyfPPF4IMZ9_Up9t4i2gdw/s2048/Shaws+and+Clarks.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" id="id_f504_f63e_53_13ad" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJxYJs5BOhNtsNmuf2CUVBUgLg7eZ_JM-lGxT2L503_LZo702hTIewKlk4gWAm2I2YujfzthwcBNwhFh7WDQx5sh-k_Yngy0vX0rwYQ3FwADLgm51TMyfPPF4IMZ9_Up9t4i2gdw/s320/Shaws+and+Clarks.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mat & Brooke Shaw, Michelle & Aaron Clark - April 2021</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Increasingly Unsettled</b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">In the days that followed, my mornings would get earlier and earlier. One morning, unable to sleep any further, I was up at 3:30 am and reading anxiously from the Book of Mormon. I also reviewed key moments from a <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media/video/2018-09-1000-worldwide-devotional-for-young-adults-a-face-to-face-event-with-elder-cook?lang=eng&collectionId=fc5831eaa4eb4a3d9e4f272007228384" target="_blank">church worldwide devotional in 2018</a> (also on addressing church history and Book of Mormon issues). The answers provided at that fireside had seemed so compelling at the time. Now, in the face of Mat and Brooke’s concerns, they felt decidedly less satisfying. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">It was not all darkness at this point, though. Sometimes, my difficult thoughts and feelings would give way to moments of "electricity" as I read and remembered certain passages in the Book of Mormon. No other source seemed to bring me closer to God.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The internal back and forth continued for months. And it seemed like every time I would lift with Mat or we visited with Mat and Brooke, they had new ideas they wanted to talk through (especially after Mat started reading <i>Sapiens</i>). I could put on a brave face for Mat’s questions in the moment, but within a day or two, I’d be writing in my journal again about familiar themes: feeling unmoored spiritually, questioning what I could trust in (and why), and feeling guilt and shame over the very fact that I was questioning things at all. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">By mid-February 2019, the internal battles had gone on long enough that I finally opened up to Michelle about how I was feeling. Given the level of dysfunction in our marriage at that point, the admission reflected a significant level of desperation. That night I wrote in my journal the following:</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I don't know that I'm wrestling with a belief in God. That might just be an almost innate part of who I am at this point. And I have to — have to — believe that there is purpose in life's difficulties and injustices, in the hard things we all bear to some degree or another. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">But I still feel rattled enough that I've wondered who/what it is I'm praying to and what He looks like. Mat Shaw's question the other night seemed to lead me there. Yes — there is a bit of frustration and guilt associated with those feelings of confusion. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">This morning I felt anxious and uncertain. What can I trust? How do I know what I can trust? What do I believe and why? </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I've caught myself even wondering this morning how I know that Jesus is the "sure foundation" (Hel. 5:12) on which to build my life. How can I seriously be questioning that? Given all that I've experienced and felt? And yet I feel uncertain all over the place. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I feel uncertain about the Book of Mormon's historicity, even as I've been continually drawn to it as a source bringing me closer to God, and even as I find it almost impossible to believe that Joseph Smith wrote it. I feel uncertain about President Nelson and President Oaks. The church's position on LGBTQ issues seems largely out of step with where my heart leads me. It feels wrong. So does polygamy and Joseph's and the early church's connection to it. I don't see how it did or could align with something I imagine the God that I worship sanctioning, much less commanding. It leaves me shaking my head.</span></p></blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Michelle’s Growing Concerns</b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">In mid-March 2019, Michelle texted out of the blue that she, too, was having trouble working through concerns about the faith. She worried that none of it was real, and that she wouldn’t get to see her father again.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Her text surprised me, and it left a pit in my stomach — Michelle had always presented as the more spiritually assured of the two of us.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">A few days later, in another visit with the Shaws (that went past midnight), <i>Michelle</i> was now the one airing her growing concerns with the church, with faith generally. Mat and Brooke were so reassuring, and it was obvious to me how important it was that Michelle had trustworthy, supportive friends to talk things through with. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The discussion, though, left me reeling internally. Our marriage difficulties aside, Michelle’s seemingly steady faith had helped anchor me in belief as I had wrestled against doubts in the months prior. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b>My Own Pleas for Help</b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">A few days later, I went to the temple (for what would be the second to last time ever), seeking to be close to God. More aware now than ever of issues with the endowment ceremony, I saw everything with new eyes. I paid closer attention to the presentation and ceremony than I had in some time, trying to make sense of it all in light of Michelle’s doubts and our conversations with the Shaws.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I noted that it felt good for me to be there, and it seemed like a good thing. But as I sat in the session trying to reconcile everyone else’s difficulties, too, I also had the feeling that maybe the temple wasn’t essential.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">That, at least, was my generous attempt at synthesizing everything weighing on me.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Not long after, it felt like time to reach out to some trusted friends from law school. In an email that quickly summarized my developing faith, I shared with them a handful of my concerns: </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">In no particular order, those concerns deal with Joseph Smith’s supposedly inspired practice of polygamy (and the problematic parts of D&C 132), the historicity of the Book of Mormon (and I love so much about the Book of Mormon), the whole notion of priesthood authority, and the claim to being the one true church. On top of that, the church just seeming to get a bunch of fundamental things wrong (from my perspective). It’s been enough that I’ve lately had to reassess completely what I believe and why and what I can still hold confidence in. </span></blockquote><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I asked for their guidance — how had they worked through some of these historical and doctrinal issues in the faith?</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Of course, I was asking because I still believed (and expected) there were authentic grounds for holding onto <i>something</i> at the core of Mormonism. At least <i>some</i> of our core beliefs had to be "true," right?</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">But, for as much internal conflict as I had experienced up to that point, it paled in comparison to what was coming next. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-27033453934043674582021-04-05T10:07:00.017-07:002021-04-05T11:43:06.068-07:00Protecting Marriage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Well I guess you left me with some feathers in my hand,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Did it make it any easier to leave me where I stand?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>I guess there might not be too many,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Who would stand beside you now,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Where'd you come from? </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Where am I going?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Why'd you leave me 'til I'm only good for…</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Waiting for you, </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>All my sins…</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>I said that I would pay for them,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>If I could come back to you,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>All my innocence is wasted on,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>The dead and dreaming.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Every night these silhouettes appear above my head,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Little angels of the silences that climb into my bed and whisper,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Every time I fall asleep, </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Every time I dream,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Did you come? </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Would you lie?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Why'd you leave us 'til we're only good for…</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Waiting for you, </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>All my sins,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>I said that I would pay for them,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>If I could come back to you,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>All my innocence is wasted on,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>The dead and dreaming.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">[“Angels of the Silences” – Counting Crows]</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgh8oaXkAordMp315dzSbMpj_oc452BOtU09fSAfK8W7_Nmts4lm3H07pO5sCArQzDYfVDvztK1ExihCWKcJBSqpzjlQX8aY-an8UL5BkjJCyJdBcUK_huXr7kAAhvbNSvLPMcA/s2048/Wasatch+Back+2+7-2012.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgh8oaXkAordMp315dzSbMpj_oc452BOtU09fSAfK8W7_Nmts4lm3H07pO5sCArQzDYfVDvztK1ExihCWKcJBSqpzjlQX8aY-an8UL5BkjJCyJdBcUK_huXr7kAAhvbNSvLPMcA/s320/Wasatch+Back+2+7-2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My brother Bryan and me ("Team Superman") - Wasatch Back Marathon Relay (July 2012)</span><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Parts
of my past make me cringe now. Sure, I’ve always been prone to sticking my foot
in my mouth, but the moments that most trouble me are the ones when I felt so
sure at the time that I was doing good (following God’s direction), only to
recognize later that my actions caused or perpetuated harm </span><a name="_Hlk68413016" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">–</a><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> often against people who were already vulnerable. </span><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
chapter contains a handful of those moments.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I wrote
a few months ago about the LDS church’s teachings on homosexuality, as well as
its activism around 2004 in pushing for a constitutional ban on same-sex
marriage. I pick up that narrative again here, now in 2008, when the church
threw its weight behind a California ballot initiative (Proposition 8) that
proposed amending the state constitution to only recognize heterosexual
marriage. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
entry, which covers more than a decade of my life, tracks my evolution from
dutiful “pro-family” follower – raising money and tracting for Prop 8 – to
silently cheering the Supreme Court’s 2015 holding that same-sex marriage is a
constitutional right.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then,
only a few months later, walking my brother down the aisle of his (gay)
wedding.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And
then, within five weeks of the wedding, trying (and failing) to reconcile the
harsh anti-LGBQ policy the church implemented in response to the Supreme
Court's decision. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As will
bear out here, this evolution forced a gradual shift in my faith, though I
remained a devout and committed Latter-day Saint. The process did, however, set
the stage for the faith deconstruction that followed a few years later (around
the same time the church rolled back that awful policy).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As for my
feelings of regret, especially in the earlier parts of this narrative, I note
this at the outset: I have tried to get better at embracing Brené Brown’s </span><a href="https://www.msn.com/en-us/tv/news/bren%C3%A9-brown-how-to-have-difficult-conversations-about-race/vi-BB18WfZR"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">mantra</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, which she apparently repeats
to herself over and over whenever someone points out her mistakes and
privilege: "<i>I'm not here to be right but to get it right.</i>"</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But
also, as I confront more and more of these moments I wish I could take back
now, I find refuge in this bit of encouragement from Maya Angelou: “<i>Do the
best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.</i>”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A New Ward
and Bishopric</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In July
2008, Michelle was into her third trimester with Natalie. The pregnancy was
especially rough for Michelle, who spent nearly all nine months nauseated.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As I
mentioned in my last post, I was also a few months into being a counselor in my
second bishopric (in as many years). We had only been in our new ward a few
months when Christopher Beesley was called as the ward’s new bishop, and he
selected me as one of his counselors.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
bishopric was notably different than my first, if in no other respect than that
all three of us were attorneys, and we were roughly the same age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Christopher
and his wife, Mary, went out of their way to make friends with us after we
moved in, and our families connected in a way that Michelle and I hadn’t really
felt since law school. In time, Christopher became one of my closest friends
and confidants, someone I would bare my soul to more than anyone else, and who
didn’t seem to mind.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
served alongside him in that bishopric nearly 7 years, and he remains one of my
closest friends.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">[He is
also the guy responsible for pulling me into the gym and getting me into
lifting — almost against my will (most mornings) those first few years.]</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Proposition
8</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That
summer of 2008, the church decided to make a push for passage of Prop 8 — a
California ballot initiative that proposed amending the state's constitution to
only recognize marriage between a man and a woman.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was
not exactly excited about this, though it wasn’t because I disagreed with the
church's position. No, I just wasn’t anxious about the extra work that would
come with the campaign, nor was I thrilled for the almost certain public
backlash. In an email to a few law school friends looking for advice, I
described "brac[ing] myself to support the church's marching orders on
Proposition 8."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In late
July, the stake presidency held an early morning bishopric instructional
meeting (for all the bishoprics in the stake). The meeting, which went 1/2 hour
over, was dominated by discussion of Prop 8 and efforts the church was pushing
us to make — both to fund <i>and</i> staff the campaign, as well as to teach
the "doctrine of the family."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Several
in the meeting expressed concern that the church's push was alienating their
members: many of the otherwise faithful found the church’s stance hard to bear,
even offensive. In fact, one bishop confided that a faithful woman in his ward
had declared she would leave the church if he mentioned Prop 8 again in her
presence.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Because
of my experiences in law school, I felt a bit more sensitive to these concerns.
But then I still drew this line in my journal: "<i>Where there are
questions and difficulties reconciling concerns, that is one thing. Outright and
open defiance, though, suggests a deeper problem with the role of prophets and
their ability to speak for God</i>."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some in
the meeting wanted more compelling secular arguments to defend the initiative.
By that point, though, I had given up on secular justifications, noting that I
didn't find any of them "particularly compelling."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Besides,
those arguments weren't the reason we supported the amendment anyway.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That
day, I wrote in my journal what I understood to be the reasons for supporting
Prop 8. I share them here because they provide a window into how I was (still)
approaching the issue at the time:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></i></p><blockquote><i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">God has
spoken through his prophet and declared that marriage is ordained of him and
only appropriate between a man and a woman, and that failure to take action to
preserve the sanctity of that institution will lead to further dilution and
disintegration of the family, hastening the destructions foretold by ancient
prophets. That is to say, it will lead to our unhappiness and make perilous
both our temporal and eternal future</span></i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">. </span></blockquote><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Also,
revealing how little my views had changed from my time in Cambridge, I still
believed that government sanctioning of gay marriage would lead to increased
homosexual activity (which was against the law of chastity):<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #313131; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><i></i></span></p><blockquote><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><i>Government support or approval will lead others to think it's ok, and those already inclined toward such a lifestyle will feel more emboldened by it, while others will feel more inclined (or ok with) experimenting with this type of lifestyle. This will presumably lead to an increase in homosexual activity, distancing people from God and from the ordinances and faithfulness needed to return to Him.</i></span></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Implicit in this line of thinking is the assumption that homosexuality is a choice.</span><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #313131;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #313131;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A New Complexity</span></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
contrast with my experiences at Harvard, this time around I actually knew
someone who was openly gay. Back then, my direct supervisor at work was a
lesbian, and in a committed relationship with her partner (I was never brave
enough to ask her if/when they married). They were even expecting a little boy
of their own only a month or so after Natalie was due. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
added some complexity to my efforts with Prop 8 as I often thought of my
supervisor when we spoke in church about needing to stop same-sex marriage — to
effectively delegitimize her family — in order to "protect" my own. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For as
much as I thought about that, though, I never spent much time with the mustard
seeds of dissonance I felt. Not back then.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There
was even a stretch when I actively worried that my faith's association with
Prop 8 might affect my relationship with my supervisor. <i>I</i> worried about
some kind of retaliation. But, as best I could tell, she never even hinted it
was an issue, and she was always one of my fiercest protectors and advocates in
the nascent stages of my career. When Natalie was born, she and her partner even
gave us a generous gift.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And when
her son was born a short while later, we got them a small gift.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's
telling how much I stewed about that gift — a small effort to celebrate her
little family. In many respects, we gave the gift in defiance of my faith. And
it wasn’t lost on me that, at the same time, I was pushing a political measure
that sought to invalidate my supervisor’s family. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But
again, I never did much with the dissonance. And honestly, I wouldn't have
known what to do with it back then, even if I had thought harder about it. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b><u>A Spiritual Litmus Test</u></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The campaign efforts asked of us by church headquarters included calling people in our ward to serve as "area coordinators" and "zip code representatives." These people were to organize and lead out on canvassing efforts, which included walking precincts and knocking on doors (I did this at least a few times, once taking four-year-old Jared with me — I called it “tracting for Prop 8.” I hated it.). There were also phone lists of registered voters to call to gauge interest and perhaps persuade. In fact, our directive from the top was to try to contact every registered voter in our respective zip codes (and our ward included 3 zip codes). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">We also waved signs at busy street corners.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">As for raising money for the campaign, each ward was initially assigned the fund-raising goal of $7,500. At first, those fund-raising efforts meant petitions over the pulpit and passing out church-generated donation forms. But when the donations didn’t roll in fast enough, we were told to identify and solicit directly from wealthy members in our ward. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">[One news report I mentioned in an October 2008 journal entry indicated that Mormons had accounted for 43% of contributions to the Prop 8 campaign, due in large part to the pressure from Mormon leaders on its membership.]</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">The oversight and push (which we were told was coming all the way from apostle M. Russell Ballard) felt relentless in the weeks and months leading up to the November election. And, maybe this was just me projecting my own issues, but all the reports from church headquarters pushed a similar message: we needed to do more.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">I was never thrilled about participating in any aspects of the campaign, especially the pressurized efforts to ask for money. But I saw Prop 8 the way many others in the faith likely did: as a "spiritual litmus test" from God who, if nothing else, was gauging my commitment to him. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Honestly, most of the time I wasn't sure I was passing that test, as I rarely felt I was doing enough. And much like my days as a missionary, a great deal of my motivation for doing anything related to Prop 8 felt like an effort to chase off God's displeasure.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b><u>The Election and Aftermath</u></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Natalie came in late September, which was both wonderful and chaotic as Michelle transitioned from perpetually nauseated to perpetually sleep-deprived. But one unexpected boon from Natalie's birth was that it gave me cover to justify more limited involvement in the campaign efforts in the month before the election.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCFhdj7vZOzlTmkS3dmKwJuwIt54Ui4tSNAD7ntW0wDOIZZFMXK8gxTAno8o6x_8KT6k6I25gjtWNej7dHrR7aayj0lMi6I1xc8JfWo-KpRf4VFwzZ5R_lpz-GuiNyMcBRRF4WA/s2048/2008+Family+Photo.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1585" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCFhdj7vZOzlTmkS3dmKwJuwIt54Ui4tSNAD7ntW0wDOIZZFMXK8gxTAno8o6x_8KT6k6I25gjtWNej7dHrR7aayj0lMi6I1xc8JfWo-KpRf4VFwzZ5R_lpz-GuiNyMcBRRF4WA/s320/2008+Family+Photo.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Clark Family - 2008</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">As
election day neared, the church asked us to fast for passage of Prop 8 on that
final Sunday. And when Sacrament meeting concluded that day, many of us shed
tears as we ended our collective fast with the bishop's prayer asking God to
accept our efforts. I was among those hoping for God’s approval, and during
that prayer I felt all over again that I could have (and should have) done
more.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Those
feelings spurred me to volunteer to take home a list or two of people to call
on election day — to make sure they got out to vote.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On
election night, I remember again crying grateful tears as we watched returns
come in on TV and saw that, improbably, Prop 8 was going to pass. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">God
apparently had accepted our efforts. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the
days and weeks following the election, protests erupted at LDS temples across
California. The accusations of bigotry, which had been present throughout the
campaign, grew louder and more pointed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Those
accusations felt terribly unfair and left me feeling fundamentally
misunderstood: I hadn't campaigned for Prop 8 because I hated LGBTQIA people —
I was doing it because God told me to! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And God
<i>certainly</i> wasn't bigoted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
irony, though, is that the louder the protests and accusations, the more they
left <i>me</i> feeling like the victim – that <i>I</i> was the one being
unfairly persecuted. That honestly made it more difficult to see outside
myself, to understand the harm I had helped inflict on a significant percentage
of my community.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRF01cIhtfeeHxnGqah3H1h_NHv86TPnaaFQ-1GPL8iTA-PspMC_hD6ObZMn9zD1-bcvaVLRrM-qoP1zZXCJzNpPT_hSwH6xKR38gtcrBTp0JBXiu0vlRqCVjGvtMvV9xAAviyuw/s550/TakeCourage.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="385" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRF01cIhtfeeHxnGqah3H1h_NHv86TPnaaFQ-1GPL8iTA-PspMC_hD6ObZMn9zD1-bcvaVLRrM-qoP1zZXCJzNpPT_hSwH6xKR38gtcrBTp0JBXiu0vlRqCVjGvtMvV9xAAviyuw/s320/TakeCourage.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Image that circulated of Samuel the Lamanite (Book of Mormon Prophet) flashing a "Yes on Prop 8" sign. In the Book of Mormon, the then wicked Nephites tried to kill Samuel because he preached the truth to them (of their sins). But God famously protected Samuel, and no stones or arrows hit him.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Nearly
two years later, a federal district court first struck down Prop 8. I don’t
remember my reaction, and I made no mention of it in my journal entries. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">An
Ideological Transition</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
four years following Prop 8 are hazy for me as I've tried to retrace my
thinking on homosexuality and gay marriage. I can say, though, that during this
timeframe, I became increasingly disillusioned with conservative politics and
the direction of the Republican Party (i.e., the rise of the Tea Party
movement). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
might be hard to overstate how significant a transition this was for me. As
many in the faith can probably relate, up to that point in my life, I had seen
little distinction between my identities as a believing Mormon and a political
conservative. In fact, taking my cues from my parents (who had fed me a steady
diet of Mormonism and Rush Limbaugh growing up), those affiliations felt almost
synonymous. And it was always surprising (perplexing, really) when I would
learn that someone was purportedly both a believing Mormon <i>and</i> a
Democrat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Frankly,
it was hard to imagine that was possible. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But by
2012, I had separated those affiliations enough that I even voted for President
Obama's re-election. I do remember, though, feeling the need to keep that fact from
my parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the
years after Prop 8, the church grew unusually quiet about its efforts to ban
same-sex marriage. If anything, I sensed it was </span><a href="http://www.missedinsunday.com/memes/lgbtq/proposition-8/"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">downplaying</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> its efforts with Prop 8 [Jeffrey
R. Holland even claimed in 2012 that the church hadn’t spent a "</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eF-JfX85A5s"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">red cent</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">" on the initiative (the quote is at about
27:00), which was both deceptive <i>and </i></span><a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/mormongate----the-churchs_b_163016"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">objectively untrue</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">]. The church also failed to
(at least openly) support similar ballot measures that popped up in others
states and countries. And in a surprising turn, it had even </span><a href="http://archive.boston.com/news/nation/articles/2009/11/12/salt_lake_city_oks_gay_rights_laws_with_mormon_help/"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">supported anti-discrimination
legislation in Salt Lake City</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">. That support felt like a significant shift at
the time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Many,
like me, sensed these steps were a tacit admission that the church’s Prop 8
support and involvement had been wrong-headed, even if the church would never
say so outright.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Meanwhile,
I worked closely with my supervisor for a few years, before she eventually became
the US Attorney in San Diego (meaning she was appointed by President Obama,
confirmed by the Senate, and in charge of our entire office). And when I told
her about Dad’s death and my interest in the Utah US Attorney’s Office, she
made it her mission to get me here.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I never
had any overt conversations with her about her sexuality, though we would swap
stories about our kids and our families. The happiness and contentment she
found in her family always felt a bit jarring. I mean, it was my understanding
that "wickedness never was happiness." (Alma 41:10). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“It
Gets Better at BYU”</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My next
data point comes in April 2012. That month, a new video, “</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ym0jXg-hKCI"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It Gets Better at Brigham Young University</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">,” made the rounds on the
Internet. Building off a similarly themed (and more prominent) celebrity video,
this offering featured openly LGBQ students at BYU sharing the difficulties of
balancing their faith and sexuality, as well as sharing their hopes that things
would “get better.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s a
bit embarrassing to admit now, but I think that video was my first real window
into the vulnerability of those who identified as LGBQ in the faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was
heart-breaking. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I had
learned about the video after my brother Bryan, then a returned missionary and
undergraduate at BYU, had forwarded it to me. Bryan wanted to know my reaction,
offering that he personally found the video a bit offensive.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I did
not share his view, and I remember pushing back slightly, urging understanding
and compassion. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">By that
point, LDS doctrine had evolved such that identifying as LGBQ (still not so
much with the T, which is why I don’t feel I can include that letter of the
acronym) was no longer the “perversion” Spencer W. Kimball had claimed it was
in the 70’s. Even so, the church preferred the label "same-sex
attraction" and urged its LGBQ members to not identify themselves by their
sexual preferences. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And of
course, acting on those preferences was still a clear violation of God's law of
chastity.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’ve
mentioned this before, but it was later that year the church released the
website mormonandgay.org. The site was meant to provide support for those
dealing with “same-sex attraction.” For
me, though, the big deal was that it included a statement acknowledging that
homosexuality was <i>not</i> a choice, and that it probably couldn’t be
changed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While I
welcomed the shift, it also significantly undercut how I had made sense of the
church’s doctrine against same-sex marriage. If one’s sexuality couldn't be
helped, if one could only control whether they “acted upon” it, then
homosexuality effectively meant a life sentence of celibacy in the faith — and
that was the <i>best</i>-case scenario. It meant having to vilify the part of
yourself that yearned for romantic love, attachment, and fulfillment (with
those you are naturally drawn to). It meant those feelings could <i>never</i>
properly find expression. It meant loneliness, while <i>always</i> having to
guard against the longings for romantic companionship. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So,
while being LGBQ might not be a sin in and of itself, it was still,
effectively, a defect — a trait to be pitied if kept in check, and to be
severely punished if not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That
didn't feel right to me, not in a faith that preached the primacy of families
in God's plan for his children. Why would God create a significant number of
his children with a biological attraction that was the antithesis of his
plan?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Coming
Out</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bryan's
initial difficulty with the “It Gets Better at BYU” video was always the first
thing I pointed to when siblings speculated whether Bryan was, himself, gay.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
March 2013, though, I noticed Bryan had responded warmly on social media to
someone else’s coming out, and I asked him what had spurred the apparent change
of heart. It was then Bryan cautiously disclosed to me, using the faith's
preferred parlance, that he was "a person who struggles with same gender
attraction." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bryan
went on to affirm how much he loved the church, Jesus Christ, and his
missionary service. He also shared how hard it had been for him to acknowledge
he was gay. He told me how much he didn't want it and how scared he was. He
also told me how draining this had all been for him, and how much he just
wanted love and acceptance. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
responded as quickly as I could and as best I knew how, telling him that we
loved him, and that he'd find nothing but acceptance from us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I also
told him I was "so sorry you have this struggle. That is so hard. So
hard." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's
unfortunate that being "affirming" in the faith still meant treating
homosexuality as an affliction, something to be mourned. [Frankly, that message
doesn't feel very affirming now; it seems like it's just a less harsh variation
of the opposite.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVXAWdygQYnLr6Iavj4MmLgZusZUzw31u8z9lyMHgGcvYybNh6JcHXlSmfcGYaP_KDqx0eZXVHoJvpe3ta-Zo-Tph3-sKuHVh5ggcWq5MEN-URU7Yofpvn5d83XuyInSHL-B7Jg/s2048/Grandma+Clark+Funeral+4.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVXAWdygQYnLr6Iavj4MmLgZusZUzw31u8z9lyMHgGcvYybNh6JcHXlSmfcGYaP_KDqx0eZXVHoJvpe3ta-Zo-Tph3-sKuHVh5ggcWq5MEN-URU7Yofpvn5d83XuyInSHL-B7Jg/s320/Grandma+Clark+Funeral+4.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Nathan, Dad, Me, and Bryan (Nov. 2013)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
reactions of the rest of my family aren't my story to tell, but it’s not hard
to imagine how fraught this new reality could be for our relatively tight knit,
devoutly Mormon family. Even with the best of intentions, we had, after all,
derived most of our worth from our obedience to a literal, orthodox approach to
Mormonism. And this version of Mormonism still had those awful teachings on the
books (literally) from Spencer W. Kimball and others. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the
days and weeks afterward, Bryan shared more with me about his
"struggles" with "same gender attraction" at BYU. When he
shared, he always couched his difficulties between paragraphs of assurance regarding
his desires to be faithful, as well as his love for God, for the church, and
for his missionary service. Usually I responded expressing my love, but notably
also my sense of Bryan's "purity" of heart and his sincere desires to
"do what's right."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Both of
us implicitly understood that, at least in Mormonism, the "struggles"
of LGBQ members were only valid so long as they were still faithfully towing
the line of orthodoxy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Over
the months that followed, my efforts to support Bryan heightened the feelings
of dissonance I felt between my faith and the feelings of my heart: I couldn't
understand why God would <i>intentionally</i> put any of his children in the
precarious position he'd put Bryan in. I needed answers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At some
point, I joined the Facebook group "Mormons Building Bridges," a
group of Mormons (and Mormon adjacent) dedicated to supporting the LGBTQIA
community. The group gained notoriety for marching in Salt Lake City Pride
parades and offering affirming messages that did not seem to compromise their
Mormon faith. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif">Affiliating with <o:p></o:p></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif">that group exposed me to the stories of so many others who were trying to reconcile their LGBTQIA sexuality with the doctrines and culture of Mormonism.</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I also
read what I could find on the subject. There was <i>In Quiet Desperation</i>, a
2004 book coming from a faithful perspective of "understanding same gender
attraction." The book includes the story of Stuart Matis (as told by his
parents) who </span><a href="https://www.sfgate.com/news/article/Gay-Mormon-hoped-suicide-would-help-change-church-3071725.php"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">shot himself</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> on the steps of his LDS church
meetinghouse. His suicide was the tragic result of his anguish over the
conflict between his homosexuality and his faith. The book also included the
first-hand perspective of Ty Mansfield, who identified as a faithful Mormon
dealing with same-sex attraction (he is now married to a woman, and they have
two kids. He's also an LMFT in Provo, Utah).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then in
2014, Bryan shared with me the book "No More Goodbyes," a poignant
collection of stories put together by Carol Lynn Pearson, a well-known Mormon
author and poet. The book includes her own story of her marriage and divorce
with her ex-husband (who was gay), as well as dozens of stories of other
individuals and families likewise wrestling with their sexual identity in the
context of Mormonism. So many of these accounts were devastatingly raw. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73OVLXG3Ill-lsoiwhVDEaLgM89sg-JzeVY9q2AAOkSN4rILzMbQTrtYoEYs5TJhOZELpfW2PdMMNxYyBf6GkdIfwGD33p1EI_Ebnxq3SKf3MG36SUfsc2PXcYWmxTsLf5VhjMQ/s1200/No+More+Goodbyes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73OVLXG3Ill-lsoiwhVDEaLgM89sg-JzeVY9q2AAOkSN4rILzMbQTrtYoEYs5TJhOZELpfW2PdMMNxYyBf6GkdIfwGD33p1EI_Ebnxq3SKf3MG36SUfsc2PXcYWmxTsLf5VhjMQ/s320/No+More+Goodbyes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Meager as these efforts were, I was trying in all the ways I could think of to both be an ally to my brother and stay true to my faith. But perhaps it is not very surprising that the more exposure I got to Bryan's reality, as well as the reality of so many others, the more pressurized the cognitive dissonance felt.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">As this pressure built, I tried resolving the dissonance through all the ways I’d been taught to resolve vexing problems in the faith: prayer, fasting, study, temple worship, etc. Eventually, though, I felt like I had reached a hopeless impasse. The doctrine prohibiting romantic homosexual relationships was clear and unyielding. But in a faith that had taught me the primacy of good feelings in discerning and affirming truth, my feelings pressed on me that what was “true” and “good” was actually the opposite of the church’s position. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">What on
earth was I supposed to do with that?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Irreconcilable
Differences</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
months rolled on, and that internal pressure became one of the constants in my
life. Soon, I noticed that Bryan, as well as other friends in the faith, were
openly supporting gay marriage on social media. That brazen stance (among the
otherwise faithful) filled me with awe and perhaps a tinge of jealousy, both
because they could be so openly supportive and because these folks had
apparently resolved the irreconcilable conflict that often consumed me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hoping
for answers, I messaged Bryan and my other friends directly, asking how they
reconciled their support for gay marriage with the clear teachings of the
church. In every instance, the core of their responses all carried a similar
theme: they knew their position didn't align with the church's, and they had
come to believe the church was wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
certainly respected that, but their reasoning wasn’t helpful to me. It wasn’t something
I felt I could use to resolve my internal battles.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Roughly
a year after Bryan came out, on March 12, 2014, I disclosed to him my internal
conflict — I think for the first time: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></i></p><blockquote><i>I’m not
at the point where I’m ready yet to say I know the church is wrong on
homosexual relationships, but I seem to be inching ever closer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will say, like you, aside from being
categorically labeled a chastity violation right now, I don’t see the
harm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The arguments advanced to support legislation
prohibiting same sex marriage have always seemed laughably inadequate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I do see [gay relationships] can be
wholesome, enriching, and fulfilling.</i></blockquote><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A few
weeks later (March 29, 2014), the conflict found its way into my journal, where
I hesitantly wrote this observation:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></i></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif">What if
the church has it all wrong on homosexuality? I'm increasingly drawn to
the strange feeling that it does, but it's such a foreign concept that I'm left
bewildered. I almost feel guilty entertaining the thought, but it's
becoming increasingly irresistible. I don't know what to do about it.</span></i></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the
meantime, I have plenty of problems of my own.</span></span></i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></i><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In late
May 2014, our bishopric spent the 3rd hour of church with the youth. The three
of us were a panel, answering questions the youth had anonymously submitted
beforehand. One of those questions was, "What's the big deal with gay
marriage?" <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When it
was my turn to answer that question, I said something close to this: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">"<i>I
know the church is true, and I know the church teaches that gay marriage is
wrong, but I don't understand it. And I really, really struggle with it.</i>"</span></blockquote><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">During
this time, I had this image of figuratively holding each of those contrary
positions (the church's doctrine and my personal feelings), one in each hand. I
couldn’t put either of them down, and they’d both come to feel so heavy –
though for different reasons. Periodically I would hold them up close, study
them carefully, and try to find some solution to the dissonance. And when I
couldn't find any resolution, I’d go back to carrying them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
feels important to note here that, given my spiritual upbringing, I didn't have
the confidence to simply give way to my feelings. There was no place in my
faith for feelings that contradicted prophetic teachings. Indeed, those who
questioned these teachings did so because of "pride" or thinking
themselves wiser than God and his prophets (the same Book of Mormon criticisms
I had leveled against fellow parishioners when I was at Harvard). After all,
who was I to question the Brethren? To question God?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But
there was also this other, deeply unsettling side of that coin: if the church
really was wrong on this, what else could it be wrong about? And how would I
know? And what could that mean?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
journal entry in late June 2014 touched on this conundrum and what it meant for
me:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif"></span></i></p><blockquote><i><span style="font-size: medium;">I've
been thinking hard about gay marriage and equality. The notion that the church may have it wrong
(and I feel more and more all the time that this is the case) makes things a
little shakier for me. I can't just absorb
[church magazine] articles or conference talks anymore. I have to pay attention, listen carefully,
and get a sense how the talks feel.
Maybe that's how it's supposed to be, but it requires an unwelcome
adjustment.</span></i></blockquote><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For all
my wrestling, though, I never found enough confidence or enlightenment back
then to resolve the conflict one way or the other. And for as heavy and
uncomfortable a position as that was, I guess I got used to the discomfort.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Acting
Upon It</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In June
2014, months after graduating from BYU (and so no longer bound by the school's
Honor Code), Bryan announced in an email to the family that his
"friend" was actually his boyfriend. He also shared that he was not
"temple worthy" and had several issues with the church, though he was
still seeking God and spirituality. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In a
clear nod that Bryan <i>fully</i> understood how devastating this news would be
to some, he said he would understand if he was no longer welcome in our homes
or with our children [h/t </span><a href="https://newsroom.churchofjesuschrist.org/article/interview-oaks-wickman-same-gender-attraction"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Elders Oaks and Wickman</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">], though he desperately hoped
that wouldn't be the case. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bryan
further confided that he had spent his life hating himself and living according
to what others thought he should do. This, he said, was actually a step toward
being authentic. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He also
told us he loved us and still wanted to make us proud.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As
Bryan grew more confident in his lifestyle, he and his boyfriend also became
rather prominent (at least in gay LDS circles) on social media. This included
Bryan's own blogging efforts, where he revisited his upbringing and revealed
heretofore unknown challenges and misdeeds from his early years. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In late
October 2014, Bryan and his boyfriend got engaged.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Looking
back now, I believe everyone in the family was trying to handle Bryan’s
transition as best they knew how. For Bryan’s part, I can hardly imagine the
pressure: still newly out <i>and</i> trying to navigate the dynamics of LGBTQIA
Mormonism (and doing so prominently on social media). And at the same time,
still feeling pulled toward the perfectionism that drives many Mormons (or at
least Clarks)<i> and</i> holding onto deeply rooted desires for acceptance from
the family and community he'd grown up with. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Meanwhile,
my family (my parents especially) were trying to navigate a new and difficult
space of their own. Remember, the Mormonism we had grown up with had only
recently begun to tolerate homosexuality — and even then, only to the extent it
was not "acted upon." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
Bryan to now not only "act upon" his being gay, but to do so
prominently on social media. . .that caused no small amount of turmoil in the
family dynamics. It was messy all around, and that messiness typically manifest
in classic Mormon passive-aggression.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For my
part, I sometimes tried to be an outspoken intermediary in the family, leaning
toward supporting and protecting my brother. But that wasn't always enough to
prevent a few instances of friction even between the two of us. That friction
usually resulted from what I then perceived as unfair attacks on the faith. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">[I
expect to detail one of these instances in my next post, which will be more
relevant there. That particular incident left a rift that only healed after Dad
died unexpectedly.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A Year
of Change</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dad
passed in January 2015. I've written about that experience before, but it sent
shockwaves through our family. In many ways, it has permanently altered the
family dynamic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtCUYUh4yPi8c-Uz-vyRbOG4t_V4JD6_TPCs6UXIFzIrQi7p_DKLsUgVL4p9W045kz17Z-QxCZcW1Aesa9HJxpgIIuXXCUuZUfBowBcJS00ENNOtcYG53CiItvsqBozSM_Q8uXw/s2048/Dad+Funeral+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtCUYUh4yPi8c-Uz-vyRbOG4t_V4JD6_TPCs6UXIFzIrQi7p_DKLsUgVL4p9W045kz17Z-QxCZcW1Aesa9HJxpgIIuXXCUuZUfBowBcJS00ENNOtcYG53CiItvsqBozSM_Q8uXw/s320/Dad+Funeral+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bryan, James (Wood), Matt, Me, and Nathan - Dad's Funeral (Jan. 2015)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In June
2015, the Supreme Court decided <i>Obergefell v. Hodges</i>, ruling that the
right to marry was fundamental and guaranteed to same sex couples under the Due
Process and Equal Protection Clause of the 14th Amendment. The ruling required
all states and US territories to perform and recognize same-sex marriages,
effectively putting an end to issue legally. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">By this
point I <i>still</i> hadn’t reconciled the church’s position with my feelings.
I remember feeling relieved, though, even secretly happy with the decision. It
felt right.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That
same summer, Michelle and I moved our family to Utah. This meant a final
release from my bishopric calling in San Diego. After nearly 9 years there, it
felt like we were leaving home, though I felt <i>so</i> happy to finally live
closer to my family.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In late
September 2015, Bryan and his fiancé married. Mom and almost everyone else in
the family attended the ceremony. At Bryan's request, I walked him down the
aisle. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZEW9QWH8ysupyzjJpJxlVFjV66x3zjzcy7_hnf-etTrbDaUx44SIBBDh0bn-Scq8QiZ5itiK2Ze5RrGlE4qEJitG8w7Y0DaBj7kveZydHFnFswwm1x4I-DCcdSd3_IbEMx4zDA/s504/Bryan%2527s+Wedding.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZEW9QWH8ysupyzjJpJxlVFjV66x3zjzcy7_hnf-etTrbDaUx44SIBBDh0bn-Scq8QiZ5itiK2Ze5RrGlE4qEJitG8w7Y0DaBj7kveZydHFnFswwm1x4I-DCcdSd3_IbEMx4zDA/s320/Bryan%2527s+Wedding.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Clark Family at Bryan's Wedding (Sept. 2015)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was
not lost on me that this supportive act could be considered another defiance of
church doctrines and obligations — technically, it violated of one of the
temple recommend interview questions: “Do you support, affiliate with, or agree
with any group or individual whose teachings or practices are contrary to or
oppose those accepted by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?"
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">[Though
to be fair, a strict reading of that question also suggested I should not
affiliate with anyone who drinks coffee, nor even anyone who </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6MMvCgmkGE"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">likes Neil Diamond</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, for that matter. This may be
one of the reasons the church changed that question a few years ago.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But
again, as someone still anxiously seeking the constant companionship of the
Holy Ghost, it felt right to support and celebrate my brother. In fact, by
that point it felt like <i>exactly</i> what Jesus would want me to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Policy of Exclusion</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Around
the time of Bryan’s wedding, it felt like momentum had been building (for
years) toward an era of inclusiveness for the LGBTQIA in the faith. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
hindsight, that optimism was likely more a function of the people I was paying
attention to than objective reality. Or maybe it was just what I was <i>really</i>
hoping to make a reality. Either way, the hope I felt made what happened
next so much more painful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On
November 6, 2015, roughly six months after <i>Obergefell</i> made gay marriage
legal nationwide, a source from church headquarters </span><a href="https://archive.sltrib.com/article.php?id=3144035&itype=CMSID"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">leaked a policy change</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> in the church's somewhat
secretive Handbook of Instructions.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
policy, which came to be known as the "Policy of Exclusion," made two
changes. First, it stated that anyone in a "same-gender" marriage was
in "apostasy." The label itself felt harsh, though the church was
already, regularly, excommunicating members found to be in committed gay and
lesbian relationships. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The second
change was far more troubling: the church also decided that children of openly
gay parents (i.e., at least one parent who was married or living with someone
of the same gender) were no longer eligible for most priesthood ordinances and
other religious rites (e.g., naming and blessing as babies, baptism, priesthood
advancement, or missionary service), except with the permission of the First
Presidency. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Only
after the child reached the age of 18, and "specifically disavow[ed] the
practice of same-gender cohabitation and marriage," <i>and </i>was not
living with the gay parent(s), could that child ask for permission to receive
those ordinances or serve a mission.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Effectively,
this meant that if you were living, or had lived, in an open, committed gay or
lesbian relationship, your children were prohibited from church membership, as
well as almost all the blessings that come with priesthood ordinances. These
were the same priesthood ordinances the church also taught were essential to find
happiness in this life, and to return to live with God in the next.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To me
and so many others, the policy felt like a sucker punch. It knocked the wind
out of me. And what made it so much worse, it was a beloved, trusted friend
that had hit me when my guard was down. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
fact, this "friend" was the institution that I believed represented
God on earth. And my trust in that institution was why I had allowed myself to
be vulnerable in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
really tried, but it was hard not to see cruelty in the policy. Even with my
apologetic bent to view the church (and its decisions) in the most sympathetic
light, I still sensed a vindictiveness carried out in God's name. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And yet,
how could I possibly insinuate this about the church I loved? The church that I
still believed to be God's one true church on earth? Was I even at liberty to
question the decision at all? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is
what I wrote in my journal about the turmoil that day: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><i><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif"></span></i></p><blockquote><i><span style="font-size: medium;">I spent
most of the day pouring over Facebook posts on feelings over the church’s
policy toward the children of same sex marriages. Feelings are raw. Personally
I feel a great internal conflict. Others have made attempts at reconciling the
dissonance, but such defenses of the policy seem to crumble under the slightest
cross-examination. There aren’t any easy answers that I can tell. There is pain.</span></i></blockquote><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A few
days later, the church responded to the growing uproar, releasing a </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEEMyc6aZms"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">10-minute video interview</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> with apostle D. Todd
Christofferson. Christofferson, a lawyer and former Supreme Court clerk, seemed
uniquely situated to address the fallout, since his brother is a prominent (now
faithful) gay figure in the LDS community. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the
interview, comfortably conducted by the manager of church public affairs, Christofferson
emphasized that the Policy of Exclusion was actually born out of love,
compassion, and a desire to <i>protect</i> children of gay and lesbian parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He further pointed out that they treated
children of polygamous marriages in exactly the same way.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Christofferson's
explanation did little to quell the growing frustration and heartache. If
anything, it seemed to have the opposite effect. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It certainly
did nothing to resolve conflict in my own heart. The punitive nature of the
policy hardly felt like a loving, compassionate effort to protect children. And
it didn't seem to square with the bedrock gospel principle of agency (choosing
one's own path in life), or the church's second Article of Faith: that people
would be punished for their own sins (assuming committed, gay relationships are
sinful), <i>not</i> the sins of their parents. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Many of
us in the faith held out hope the church would see the harm caused and quickly
reverse the policy. But as days turned into weeks, it became apparent the
policy wasn’t going anywhere, at least not anytime soon. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
fact, a few months later, future church president Russell M. Nelson </span><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/broadcasts/article/worldwide-devotionals/2016/01/becoming-true-millennials?lang=eng"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">doubled down</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> and attempted to enshrine the
policy with the imprimatur of “revelation” from God. He described the
Brethren deciding on the policy only after “wrestl[ing] at length” to
understand God’s will and “consider[ing] countless permutations and
combinations of possible scenarios.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
harm inflicted, it seemed, had been carefully considered and intentional.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As much
as I tried to understand it, the policy did not feel like revelation to me. It
did not feel like God. It felt like the opposite. And to have people like
Nelson telling me that it was, in fact, God, evoked feelings of frustration and
anger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
honestly didn’t know what to do with those feelings, but I kept them mostly to
myself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
Breaking Point?</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
many, the Policy of Exclusion was a breaking point — their “last straw” causing
them to renounce their membership in the LDS church. Given what I had felt, and
the pain I had seen in the LGBTQIA community, it was hard to blame those
leaving. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For me,
though, while the policy tore at my soul, it wouldn't have been accurate to say
it pushed me to a near breaking point, even if I might have said so at the
time. The fact was that my connection to God was so closely tied to my
membership in the LDS church that I had little idea what a "breaking
point" would even look or feel like (and I wouldn't until I <i>actually</i>
reached a breaking point years later). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I did
identify with feeling "stuck" though. I had nowhere to go, and
nothing I could do with the pain I'd seen inflicted on so many others, with the
pain I felt myself. My church insisted the pain was misguided, but it was real.
In fact, it seemed to spring from the <i>best</i> parts of myself — the parts
of me that had spent a lifetime trying to be like Jesus. Trying to develop charity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At the
same time, the church was the gatekeeper of my access to God. I didn’t know any
other way. And as far as I understood things, there <i>wasn’t</i> any other
way: one of the central tenets of Mormonism is that the<i> only </i>way back to
God is through the LDS church — through the priesthood authority and ordinances
only it can offer. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And
frankly, I couldn't (and didn't want to!) deny my own confirming experiences
that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was, in fact, God’s one
true church.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
dissonance just felt intractable. And over the years, it only grew as I became
familiar with the pain experienced by others from <i>other</i> troubling
aspects of the faith — usually involving </span><a href="https://mormondom.com/letter-to-a-mormon-man-8d251aa1f062"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">patriarchy</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, polygamy, and racism.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">All of
it gave new meaning to the New Testament story of Jesus when, after many of his
disciples "went back, and walked no more with him," he turned to
Peter and asked, "Will ye also go away?" (John 6:67).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Peter's
response had always seemed so faith affirming: “Lord, to whom shall we go? thou
hast the words of eternal life.” (John 6:68). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But as
Teryl and Fiona Givens have observed, Peter’s question now seemed filled with
searching pathos — perhaps even a bit of tired resignation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ultimately,
what all this meant was that, for several years, I simply absorbed and adjusted
to the dissonance. I stayed. Staying was the best thing (the only thing) I knew
to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">[And I
recognize that my ability to stay reflected a significant level of privilege —
the privilege of a white, heterosexual male who could still exist (and thrive)
in the church, for whom the church remained a safe space to focus on the things
that still worked for me.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When
Nelson became prophet in early 2018, though, <i>and</i> chose Dallin H. Oaks as
his 1st counselor, I found that very difficult. I’d never had as much trouble
sustaining a new prophet as I had Nelson (actually, I’d never had <i>any</i>
difficulty before).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It helped, though,
when someone suggested that “sustaining” meant more to “root for” than to
necessarily endorse.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A Move
Toward Nuance</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
sustained dissonance of those years forced me toward a more nuanced faith. That
movement was not so much intentional as it was a gravitational pull toward what
continued to resonate. In testimony meetings and elsewhere, I would talk about
how I felt certain about so much less in the faith as I was getting older. But
with the truths that remained, they seemed to shine all the brighter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
stumbled onto the </span><a href="http://www.eugeneengland.org/why-the-church-is-as-true-as-the-gospel#:~:text=The%20Church%20is%20as%20true%E2%80%94as%20ef%C2%ADfective%E2%80%94as%20the%20gospel,at%20an%20experiential%20level%20that%20can%20redeem%20us."><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">writings of Eugene England</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, and his perspective in “Why
the Church Is As True As the Gospel” felt refreshingly complex and hopeful.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Someone
recommended to me Teryl and Fiona Givens’ books. They wrote within Mormonism
about the weeping God (Moses 7:28) who loved his children and would never
abandon them. Their writings made the case for a compassionate God with whom it
would never be too late to come home. Never.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwW3iQibuWFQGnKboCcphYUH-8ZgNSiTWnt0_dvejCJyuXbpM1pxOVia-p1mf_gGFV4FmhJaGTjA5yPnxkL0pi9Q8eiQu2S7gZT4H9sCO3BRq_A4ENCZbLmnIOVW5i30mmItz8Yw/s475/The+God+Who+Weeps.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="315" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwW3iQibuWFQGnKboCcphYUH-8ZgNSiTWnt0_dvejCJyuXbpM1pxOVia-p1mf_gGFV4FmhJaGTjA5yPnxkL0pi9Q8eiQu2S7gZT4H9sCO3BRq_A4ENCZbLmnIOVW5i30mmItz8Yw/s320/The+God+Who+Weeps.jpg" /></a></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This
was markedly different from the God I had always known. This gospel was much
more generous, and I liked this God so much more. Reading of him filled me with
hope and relief for friends and loved ones (like Bryan) who had withdrawn from
Mormonism, but whose leaving I could hardly criticize.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I found
I began to cling to (or “</span><a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2011/10/lehis-dream-holding-fast-to-the-rod?lang=eng"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">hold fast to</span></a><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">” if the difference matters to
you) certain scriptures that became the core of my faith and testimony: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 63.0pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 63pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; vertical-align: middle;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Helaman 5:12</span></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">: that
Christ was the “rock,” a “sure foundation” — maybe the <i>only</i> sure
foundation. He was the foundation against the devil’s “mighty winds, yea, his
shafts in the whirlwind,” and with whom the “mighty storm[s]” would have “no
power over [me].” He was the unshakeable foundation, "[the] foundation
whereon if men build they cannot fall.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 63.0pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 63pt; text-align: justify; vertical-align: middle;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 63.0pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 63pt; text-align: justify; vertical-align: middle;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Significantly for me, the
scripture made no mention of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, or even Russell M.
Nelson.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 27.0pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 27pt; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 63.0pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 63pt; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; vertical-align: middle;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">D&C 11:12-14</span></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">: that I should put my trust in “that Spirit which leadeth to do good
— yea, to do justly, to walk humbly, to judge righteously.” This feeling was <i>God’s</i>
spirit, which would “enlighten [my] mind” and “fill [my] soul with joy.” And it
was by that spirit — those feelings — that I would “know. . .all things
whatsoever [I] desire[d] of [God].”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 27.0pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 27pt; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 63.0pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 63pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; vertical-align: middle;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ether 12:27</span></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">: that
one's eligibility for God’s redeeming grace is simply that we “humble
[ourselves] before [him].” From what I could tell, this didn't necessarily
require doing all the things. And further, it speaks of God giving us our
weaknesses (and that he would show them to us) to help induce that saving
humility. And if we managed both humility <i>and</i> faith in God, God would
eventually help strengthen those weaknesses.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I also
felt increasingly drawn to the stories of Jesus in the New Testament — the
Jesus who challenged orthodoxy and church authority, and who was radically
inclusive. His ministry condemned hypocrisy while reaching out to the
downtrodden and marginalized. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
wanted to be like <i>him</i>. And as that became more of my focus, I felt more
connected to God than perhaps I ever had. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mind
you, I was still trying to do all the things orthodox Mormonism said I needed
to. But this new approach left me feeling so much less anxious about the
ultimate judgement of those who weren’t. And further, for a guy so often hung
up on how and where he was falling short, I even sensed more frequently that
God was pleased with me — far more often than he was disappointed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Policy Reversal</span></u></b><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
April 2019, Nelson reversed the Policy of Exclusion. As he did so, Nelson and
others touted this new direction as<i> also </i>revelation from God, somehow
without ever acknowledging that the original policy was harmful and mistaken. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">[I
don’t know that they have ever explicitly acknowledged the harm inflicted by
that policy.] <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At the
time, I felt grateful for the (long overdue) reversal. It came, though, during
a critical period when my faith was already crumbling (for other reasons), and
I was searching for something to hold onto. So when Nelson and others unveiled
the reversal, l saw it not so much as evidence of God’s hand in the church but
of the opposite: the men running things seemed to have no more access to,
authority from, or relationship with God than I did – though they <i>did</i> seem to
have a much harder time owning up to their mistakes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As I’ll
detail in an upcoming post, confronting that possibility brought new levels of
existential difficulty. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the
end, it wasn't the church’s LGBTQIA issues that caused my loss of faith. Nor
the lingering racism, or its myriad problems with gender equality, patriarchy,
or polygamy. The more removed I get from the faith now, the harder it feels
sometimes to understand this, because it seems obvious to me now that those red
flags should have been enough —<i> why weren't they enough?!</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But at
the same time, this project has reminded me over and over that my Mormon
programming ran <i>deep</i>. And if nothing else, these writings have, at least,
helped me make peace with this reality: I was doing the best I knew how. .
.until I knew better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It does
feel so much better to be able to <i>fully</i> support and celebrate my
brother now — for <i>all</i> he is and chooses to be. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And to confidently follow the dictates of my conscience, wherever they lead.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEuG46wSGb1kt7vpGy-tkTMYUl-EKg0k_EhfNyB7ZGImzg2byL14Dwf-qZIoBYnH4RgGRh8JhgQt-7xS5tOeztJzRQOgeOOcaEFFmUY4aPpp-SkmkZgaGBR5WHqGfEakwXCXfY8Q/s1111/The+Voice.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1111" data-original-width="889" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEuG46wSGb1kt7vpGy-tkTMYUl-EKg0k_EhfNyB7ZGImzg2byL14Dwf-qZIoBYnH4RgGRh8JhgQt-7xS5tOeztJzRQOgeOOcaEFFmUY4aPpp-SkmkZgaGBR5WHqGfEakwXCXfY8Q/s320/The+Voice.jpg" /></a></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-75940251368818072992021-02-28T07:57:00.014-08:002021-03-10T06:03:17.369-08:00"Some Things Are True That Are Not Very Useful"<p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Another day I call and never speak<br />
And you would say nothing's changed at all<br />
And I can't feel much hope for anything<br />
If I won't be there to catch you if you fall<br />
<br />
Oh again<br />
It seems we meet<br />
In the spaces<br />
In between<br />
We always say<br />
It won't be long<br />
Oh but something's always wrong<br />
<br />
Another game of putting things aside<br />
As if we'll come back to them some time<br />
A brace of hope, a pride of innocence<br />
And you would say something has gone wrong<br />
<br />
Oh again<br />
It seems we meet<br />
In the spaces<br />
In between<br />
We always say<br />
It won't be long</i></span></span></p><p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Oh but something's always wrong </i></span></span></p><p align="center" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">[Toad The Wet Sprocket - "Something's Always Wrong"]</span> </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The next milepost in my faith journey came in
late 2007. I was a young father, still only a few years out of law school,
trying to balance the increasing demands on my time at work, at home, and at
church. Because of the recommendation of a trusted friend, I decided to brave <i>Rough
Stone Rolling</i> — the new biography of Joseph Smith making waves in Mormon
circles. The book, while unabashedly apologetic, was my first confrontation
with troubling historical details about the prophet (details that I couldn’t
automatically dismiss), which threatened Joseph’s heroic portrayal in the
faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Up to this point, that heroic portrayal had
been the only version of Joseph I had known. And reading of this other version of
the man was jarring, traumatic even.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">My testimony survived the ordeal (for a long
while yet). And eventually, I even told some that the experience had <i>strengthened</i>
my belief in God and his church — though I think that claim was more
aspirational than objectively true. Either way, this marked the beginning of my
shift toward a more nuanced faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Work-Life Balance</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In the fall of 2007, Michelle and I were
living in La Mesa, California. Our little family had grown to four, and we were
renting a small two bedroom apartment across the street from the Amaya trolley
stop. We'd been in that rather dark apartment nearly a year, after opting to
leave behind the billable hour, as well as a near perfect ward and community in
Irvine (about 90 miles north). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_45cd_b4fe_f2d4_8f2e" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJvc952ut1A_jbSitY6VU89KvmLMfF4ibTUt3e4noa1BmkD9pyvi0dQuTLNs93_TagXsCNH-j-iGgwjtKD5aEjznoOhRa75HjLsMiX-0fjM_ZRa0kKGPlg_VtubFdqYyKc18ereg/s2048/2007+Family+1.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1456" data-original-width="2048" id="id_cf86_d189_6c18_54d9" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJvc952ut1A_jbSitY6VU89KvmLMfF4ibTUt3e4noa1BmkD9pyvi0dQuTLNs93_TagXsCNH-j-iGgwjtKD5aEjznoOhRa75HjLsMiX-0fjM_ZRa0kKGPlg_VtubFdqYyKc18ereg/s320/2007+Family+1.jpeg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">The Clark Family - 2007</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I was now a fledgling federal prosecutor in
San Diego — the job I'd hoped for since my first year of law school. Michelle,
in a selfless gesture I didn’t fully appreciate at the time, had supported the
career move, even though it meant a drastic pay cut and leaving behind a
network of friends. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I’ve always said that it felt like I'd won
the lottery landing that job. But even with my good fortune, I still faced
plenty of road bumps those first few years. In fact, I remember an awful lot of
morning trolley rides into work feeling a pit in my stomach about the coming
day. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Some of that was surely just part and parcel
with acclimating to my new responsibilities (and my near perpetual fear of
screwing something up). Some of it, too, was simply because I was an introvert
amongst what seemed to be a sea of extroverts in the office — most of whom
appeared to connect with each other (and the work) so much faster than I did. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Additionally, though, I felt intense pressure
(mostly internal but not always) to get home on time, to try to relieve an
often frazzled wife who'd spent the day in our dingy apartment with two very
active toddlers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Granted, I <i>had</i> sold Michelle on the
notion that my career move meant I’d reliably be home more often. And to be
clear, I <i>wanted </i>to be home spending time with her and our kids. But
there was a bit more to it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I've written before about how the church's
(God's) ideal of stay-at-home motherhood proved difficult for Michelle — how
she faithfully lived the ideal, despite the ideal often leaving her hollow and
unfulfilled. These frustrations came on top of the difficulties inherent in
rearing toddlers full-time, so Michelle understandably dealt with bouts of
unhappiness that often turned into outright depression. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Michelle's nagging melancholy, especially in
contrast to my idyllic career pursuit, often left me guilt-ridden. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Beyond the guilt, though, Michelle's
persistent unhappiness felt like <i>my</i> responsibility. And taking on that
responsibility was, after all, how I understood marriages were supposed to work
— even when her unhappiness wasn’t my fault. [In this, I took cues from
<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2004/10/the-women-in-our-lives?lang=eng" target="_blank">prophetic counsel</a>, among other things.] In fact, in the years we’d
been together, I had rather prided myself on the lengths I could and would go
for Michelle’s comfort and happiness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">But my efforts never seemed to be enough to
"fix" things for Michelle — at least not in the long term. And no
matter how hard I tried, I typically felt like I was still, somehow, falling
short.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">[In marriage counseling years later, I’d
learn the term for this: co-dependency. Turns out it’s not a healthy approach
to relationships.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">So, while my colleagues (few of whom had
young kids) seemed contented and willing to stick around the office as long as
necessary, I rarely felt like I could. Short of a trial or some emergency, I
was out the door by 5 pm each evening with almost religious devotion — racing to
catch the 5:10 trolley home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">All of this probably helps explain why I
spent those first few years at the US Attorney’s Office mostly feeling like I
was a step or two behind my peers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">To be sure, I don’t mean to suggest that we
didn’t still have <i>lots</i> of happy memories from that time period. These
were some of the golden years with our kids, when they were still small enough
to beg me to play "Daddy's Lion," and when they demanded bedtime
stories and songs. In these years, they also delighted to “sneak” out with me
for donuts, or to the grocery store, hunting sales on cold cereal and hidden
delights on the day-old bakery rack. And because we had a ground floor apartment,
these were the days we could wear out our little ones near bedtime with
energetic family dance parties. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_391a_66a5_d6b9_79a8" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_IFKREV1QNxqwZi-Ds-4vagvyyM5sczJwydJVvJxaQE4_32Sn3-ptszZ7CUyqYX6SB1aRygQKsNd2eaauhqoeApz7RFeBrE4QyYQQ_noT1U4Ui1VJD1MivKNlRlogPNvYxokGmw/s400/Emily+and+Jared+2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" id="id_adbb_a64_c09c_aa8e" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_IFKREV1QNxqwZi-Ds-4vagvyyM5sczJwydJVvJxaQE4_32Sn3-ptszZ7CUyqYX6SB1aRygQKsNd2eaauhqoeApz7RFeBrE4QyYQQ_noT1U4Ui1VJD1MivKNlRlogPNvYxokGmw/s320/Emily+and+Jared+2.jpeg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Jared and Emily - 2007<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">My daily journal entries from this time
period are filled with so many precious moments with the kids. For example, one
Sunday, as I sat in Sunday School with little Emily on my lap (still too young
even for the nursery), I felt a wave of sadness to realize she had to grow up —
that she’d soon enough be off to nursery and too big to sit contentedly on my
lap. I wanted time to stand still with my daughter. And because I knew it
wouldn’t, I mourned the inevitable loss of my little girl.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Church Responsibilities</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">On top of my responsibilities at work and at
home, I was also the 2nd counselor in our ward's new bishopric. That calling
had come as quite the surprise because we were still so new to the ward, and
because I hardly talked to anyone at church. [In fact, I’d said little more
than “hello” to the man called to be bishop, but I was still somehow on his
radar (likely from bearing my testimony on fast Sundays)]. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The calling initially felt like <i>great</i>
spiritual reassurance — God’s way of telling me I was on the right track!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bishop was such a good man, too, and his
other counselor so fun to joke with. I also kind of liked planning out and
conducting Sacrament meetings, as well as having a voice on issues facing the
ward. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">[I was less thrilled with all of the extra
meetings, and having to extend callings and ask people to speak].<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The calling, though, soon became yet another
area where I felt I was falling short. This was because one of my chief
assignments was over the youth programs in the ward, and it seemed I could
never give that assignment enough time or energy to satisfy anyone. [I know
this because youth leaders would sometimes tell the bishop as much]. It didn't
help that I really didn’t enjoy camp outs, but I enjoyed even less the
idea of leaving Michelle at home on weekends to care for the kids by herself.
So I usually found reasons to avoid the monthly campouts, and I also ducked out
of the weeknight gatherings as often as I could. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">When it came down to it, I was just terribly
reluctant to be away from home any more than I had to be. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In one journal entry from this time period, I
described missing a weeknight bishopric meeting because Michelle had been sick.
The bishop called afterward to fill me in, and in that conversation, I ended up
admitting that I felt terrible about my failings with the youth. The bishop
didn’t contradict me, but he still expressed appreciation for my “grounding in
the gospel” and the support I had given him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">It felt like a timely expression of
gratitude, because I often sensed in those days that I was failing in <i>all</i>
the areas of my life that mattered. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In fact, even now when I think back on that
time period, I can still feel the heaviness of those years, the feeling that I
was barely hanging on.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The upside of that heaviness was that it made
me especially solicitous of Heaven. I knew I needed God's help, so I approached
daily scripture study less out of obligation than sheer desperation —
desperation to hear God’s voice of comfort and counsel, to win his favor through
faithfulness, and to merit his forgiveness, support, and protection. Michelle and
I together tried to do all the things we knew: dutiful weekly family home
evenings, nightly family prayer and scripture study, keeping the Sabbath day
holy, paying tithing and fast offerings, and faithfully ministering to our home
and visiting teaching families. And on those rare occasions when we had the
forethought <i>and</i> energy, we tried to attend the temple. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">But more than all this, in what <i>truly</i>
felt like one of the greatest sacrifices of my life, I also gave up watching my
favorite TV show, <i>Lost</i>, midway through the third season — when I could
no longer rationalize away the nudges (from God) that some of the content was
inappropriate. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">[I’m not kidding about how hard that was.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">When the calling into the bishopric came a
few weeks later, the timing left me with the strong suspicion that it was
because I had followed the prompting to stop watching<i> Lost</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">While we lived in La Mesa, Michelle and I
made friends with a few couples in the ward. One friend of mine was the ward
mission leader and a Church Education System (CES) institute teacher [i.e., he
was a church employee, paid to teach religion classes near Grossmont college].
This friend was extroverted in all the ways I wasn't, and he seemed as willing
as anyone to share the message of our faith at <i>every</i> opportunity (and
watching him work often left me feeling guilty because I wasn't also sidling up to
strangers in hospital waiting rooms and handing them “pass along” cards about
the church). We weren’t the best of friends (Michelle was closer with his
wife), but the two of us had bonded over discussions of church doctrine, and
the "secret" retracted talks of Boyd K. Packer. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The Joseph Smith I Knew</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The next part of the narrative requires a bit
of background. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I had grown up in the faith only ever reading
and hearing stories of an idealized version of Joseph Smith. This version of
him came through in his own history (canonized in a volume of LDS scripture,
the Pearl of Great Price), his mother's biography of him, and other correlated
materials. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Joseph was the young boy who, facing a
painful leg operation, had refused alcohol as a form of anesthesia. He insisted
he could make it through the operation if only his father held him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">At 14 years old in Upstate New York, Joseph
felt intense interest and confusion over religion. He wanted to know which
church he should join. After reading in the New Testament (James 1:5) that he
could ask God, who "giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not,"
Joseph set out to the nearby woods to pray. There, he asked God which church he
should join, and in response, experienced the "First Vision."
According to the canonized version of that vision, Joseph saw both God the
Father and Jesus Christ. They told Joseph that he should not join any of
churches of the day — "for they were all wrong" and "all their
creeds were an abomination in [God's] sight" and their "professors
were all corrupt." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">As I had always known it, the boy Joseph
thereafter experienced persecution from pastors and townsfolk, who derided him
simply for claiming to have seen a vision. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">A few years later, Joseph had another vision
as he knelt in his bedroom one night, seeking forgiveness for his sins. This
time, an angel visited him (several times over the course of the evening),
giving various instructions. Among those instructions, the angel revealed
the location of gold plates, buried in a nearby hillside. The plates
contained the record of ancient inhabitants and their dealings with God. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">After four years, the angel allowed Joseph to
retrieve and translate the plates by the "gift and power of God."
That record became scripture known as The Book of Mormon. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_dfda_45fa_d5e6_542b" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2fzp91fSoa313mNepTPeIwAZK1TwNDzpFhv3mAmK6j45mT9QYn6QlvtBBgmbh3ryol5g9immspOBguM1E38ncWzH8NDOn13NB2998U9S5bL8dSfVE4sEHaDHun_oH_DqjJ5_qIw/s512/translating_the_plates.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="423" height="320" id="id_4a11_c5a2_531b_26ce" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2fzp91fSoa313mNepTPeIwAZK1TwNDzpFhv3mAmK6j45mT9QYn6QlvtBBgmbh3ryol5g9immspOBguM1E38ncWzH8NDOn13NB2998U9S5bL8dSfVE4sEHaDHun_oH_DqjJ5_qIw/s320/translating_the_plates.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 264px;" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Church Magazine Cover Art Depicting Joseph's Translation of the Gold Plates - 2001</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">God thereafter instructed Joseph to restore
his church to the earth (it had been lost millennia earlier through apostasy),
and he became the church's first president and prophet. As prophet, he received
additional revelations (that mostly comprise the Doctrine & Covenants),
translated ancient Egyptian papyri (now the Book of Abraham in the Pearl of
Great Price), and even rendered his own "inspired" translation of the
Bible. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">A loving husband and father, the Joseph Smith
I knew was the man pulled from his home at night by an angry mob, who tarred
and feathered him. After spending the night
cleaning up and nursing his wounds, Joseph preached a sermon the next day on
God's love and forgiveness (with several in the congregation who had been part
of the mob the night before).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Joseph didn't claim to be perfect, but there
seemed to be a perfection even in the way the stories and scriptures framed his
acknowledgment of imperfections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Joseph was God's prophet on the earth, tasked
with restoring God's true church, priesthood, and ordinances to prepare for
Jesus Christ's Second Coming. In God's revelations (through Joseph), God had
promised to "stand by [Joseph] forever and ever" and that his people
"shall never be turned against [Joseph] by the testimony of
traitors." [D&C 122:3-4]. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">After Joseph's martyrdom at Carthage jail,
future church president John Taylor wrote (in what's now canonized in D&C
135) that Joseph "has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men
in this world than any other man that ever lived in it." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Among the hymns we sang in church, there is
this vigorous ode to Joseph, "Praise to Man" (written by Joseph's
friend, William W. Phelps), that includes these stirring lines:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah!</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Jesus anointed that Prophet and Seer.</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Blessed to open the last dispensation.</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Kings shall extol him, and nations revere</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Praise to his memory he died as a martyr;</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Honored and blessed be his ever great name!</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Long shall his blood, which was shed by assassins</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Plead unto heav'n while the earth lauds his
fame</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Great is his glory and endless his
priesthood.</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Ever and ever the keys he will hold</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Faithful and true, he will enter his kingdom</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Crowned in the midst of the prophets of old.</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">With each verse, there is also this rousing
chorus:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Hail to the Prophet, ascended to heaven!</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Traitors and tyrants now fight him in vain.</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Mingling with Gods, he can plan for his
brethren;</span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Death cannot conquer the hero again. </span></i><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The Joseph Smith that I read of and knew,
whose stories had been told to me at home, at church, in the scriptures, and in
general conference was, indeed, a hero. In fact, by <i>all</i> accounts I had
ever known, he was a hero among heroes. And while I would have vehemently
denied that we worshipped him, our praise and veneration of the man probably
came as near as possible to worship without crossing the line.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">It's hardly a coincidence that this is the <i>exact</i>
version of Joseph on display in this church produced, hour-long movie of his
life (that shows in the Legacy Theater in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building on
Temple Square).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" id="id_ad8c_878e_7ea7_40d3" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1xVw6PsSinI" width="320" youtube-src-id="1xVw6PsSinI"></iframe></div><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">From all I knew of the man, I idolized Joseph
(in the non-idolatrous sense). I wanted to be like him, and I was willing to
give my life for the church he restored. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">"Some Things Are True That Are Not Very
Useful"</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I've mentioned this before, but for my daily
religious study, I relied almost exclusively on correlated materials provided
by the church: the four volumes of scripture, sermons from the semi-annual
general conferences, church lesson manuals, and monthly magazines. This was by
design and in keeping with prophetic counsel. These were, after all, the materials that
would help draw me nearest to God and keep the Holy Ghost's companionship.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">For better or worse, beyond these daily
efforts, I had little time or appetite for studying church history (outside of
what I found in these resources). I didn't necessarily begrudge those who did,
but I personally didn't see how church history would help with what I needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I had long since accepted that the Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was God's one true church on the earth (I had
<i>felt</i> that repeatedly over the years), and that the gospel of Jesus
Christ (as preached through Mormonism) was the one path to happiness in this
life and the next. So I had no interest in anything that threatened that
certainty. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Honestly, I just wanted help with being a
good husband and father — to lay claim to the promised blessings of peace and
fulfillment (that almost always seemed to elude me) in my marriage and family.
Arcane tidbits from church history weren't likely to help much with that. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In fact, I often used to (almost) boast that
I would only get around to studying church history after I had figured out
charity. Until then, I had little use for it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">It didn't help any that I'd also been
conditioned by apostle Boyd K. Packer to be wary of anything but the most
faith-promoting presentation of church history. A World War II veteran and
seminary teacher before becoming a church general authority in 1961, Packer
helped steer the church away from intellectual rigor toward the primacy of <i>feelings</i>
in determining spiritual truths.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In a famous 1981 <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/teaching-seminary-preservice-readings-religion-370-471-and-475/the-mantle-is-far-far-greater-than-the-intellect?lang=eng" target="_blank">address</a> to church educators,
Packer, then an apostle, pushed for believing historians and educators to <i>avoid</i>
objectivity when writing and teaching church history. As he viewed it, they
were to be advocates (akin to attorneys representing the church), responsible
for building faith. In that role, he argued, it would be a "breach of
ethics, or integrity, or morality" to "collect[] evidence" [of
unfavorable facts of church and its leaders] and pass that information along to
"the enemy."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">For Packer, this meant the church historian
and educator had a moral obligation to <i>leave out</i> stories and facts that
could undermine faith — that contradicted the correlated narrative of church
history: "There is a temptation for the writer or the teacher of Church
history to want to tell everything, whether it is worthy or faith promoting or
not. <i>Some things that are true are not very useful.</i>" (emphasis
added).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">[Packer apparently wasn't considering the
obligations of criminal prosecutors among the advocates he references. A
prosecutor’s obligation is to pursue zealous advocacy <i>and </i>objective
truth. They are also required, under caselaw interpreting the Constitution, to pass along to "the
enemy" evidence that is unfavorable to their case. In fact it is a
dangerous "breach of ethics, or integrity, or morality" to withhold
such information. Why? Because the law recognizes that, <i>whatever</i> one’s
motives, intentionally withholding negative or contradictory information
presents a distorted reality and works a deception. This is true in criminal cases when someone's liberty is usually at stake. Should it be any less the case with those claiming to hold the keys to our eternal salvation?]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Packer at one point recounted an incident with a church historian, presenting to college students, who "introduced many
so-called facts that put [the prophet] in a very unfavorable light."
Packer inferred that this historian's "purpose" was to persuade the
audience that the prophet "was a man subject to the foibles of men."
This approach may have weakened or destroyed faith, and it "[took] something
away from the memory of a prophet." Packer further claimed the historian
"was determined" "to prove that <i>the prophet</i> was a <i>man."
</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Packer, instead, wanted historians who could
"convince us that the <i>man</i> was a <i>prophet</i>." (emphasis in original).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">He then warned that historians who
"injure the Church" or destroy faith with this kind of "advanced
history" put themselves in "spiritual jeopardy." And if they are
members of the church "[they have] broken [their] covenants and will be
held accountable." If one does so and is also employed by the church, they
"accommodate the enemy" and are "a traitor to the cause."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Packer was not alone in this sort of
preaching in the 80's. Four years later, apostle Dallin H. Oaks (now a
counselor in the First Presidency), made similar <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4hAL-qLOISs&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">remarks</a> in a speech at BYU. Starting at about 16:25 in the audio, Oaks claimed that "truth can be used unrighteously,"
including by "persons who make true statements out of an evil motive, such
as those who seek to injure another…." Echoing Packer's remarks, Oaks
preached that “the fact that something is true is not always justification for
communicating it.” He then offered specific counsel to "readers of history
and biography": “...some things that are true are not edifying or
appropriate to communicate. Readers of history and biography should ponder that
moral reality as part of their efforts to understand the significance of what
they read.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Additionally, then apostle (now prophet and church
president) Russell M. Nelson was even more explicit. In <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/1986/01/truth-and-more?lang=eng&fbclid=IwAR3lTzVmfLSDIN22CSFzqtYRVpraCSTlnzt0U1k_zvoHGh8G9PwX9SfygG4" target="_blank">remarks</a> only a few weeks after Oaks',
Nelson flatly observed, "Some truths are best left unsaid." Invoking
his mother's instruction, "Russell, if you can't say something nice about
someone, say nothing," Nelson excoriates historians who publish unflattering
truths about venerated historical figures: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"></span></p><blockquote><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">We now live in a season in which some
self-serving historians grovel for “truth” that would defame the dead and the
defenseless. Some may be tempted to undermine what is sacred to others, or
diminish the esteem of honored names, or demean the efforts of revered
individuals. They seem to forget that the greatness of the very lives they
examine is what endows the historian’s work with any interest.</span></blockquote><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">For Nelson, absent a "righteous"
motive, the scrupulous historian should remain <i>silent</i> about any
character flaws she unearths while researching "honored names" and
"revered individuals." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In 2007, I wasn't aware of the remarks by
Nelson and Oaks on the subject. Packer's, though, were prominent (they remain
part of the preservice readings for seminary teachers), and it would
be hard to overstate the effect of Packer's words on my mindset. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Again, I had been raised not to question
church leaders, rather to prove my faithfulness by adopting and defending their
teachings. Packer's commentary, in fact, seemed to confirm my approach in limiting
my religious studies to church authored/approved materials. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">This is my best explanation, anyway, for why I somehow didn't even raise an eyebrow at the idea that
fostering faith in God's one true church sometimes required <i>hiding</i> facts
about its history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Rough Stone Rolling</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In 2005, Richard Bushman, a Columbia
University history professor and faithful church member, published <i>Rough
Stone Rolling</i>, a "cultural biography" on Joseph Smith. Coming in
at nearly 600 pages (plus footnotes), the book is a lengthy and, by many
accounts, definitive biography of Mormonism's founder. In fact, even the church
owned newspaper <a href="https://www.deseret.com/2007/1/7/19994608/author-bushman-s-diary-of-rough-stone-rolling-tour-is-a-page-turner" target="_blank">promoted the book</a>,
and it could be purchased at church owned <a href="https://deseretbook.com/p/joseph-smith-rough-stone-rolling-richard-l-bushman-5351?variant_id=104298-paperback" target="_blank">bookstores</a>. </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">This was not a small thing, since, as the
comments above suggest, Mormons tend to be wary of any treatment of church
history that is not authored (or at least approved) by the church — any
narrative that threatens the correlated history we'd grown up with.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ6-6BSO6WyaBPBbpBGtCbJypuH26oqvVMwlTfgj5oYOQBvnt-SvhQyRXwnX1bMj04s2vWFF090gOI1qGqc6Pkm1d2fxvYrSuawtjmnO45xSOcX402Q6FT7JiVk91RFu9rPaMTg/s346/Rough+Stone+Rolling.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="221" height="320" id="id_551d_4ee7_8532_c8a7" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ6-6BSO6WyaBPBbpBGtCbJypuH26oqvVMwlTfgj5oYOQBvnt-SvhQyRXwnX1bMj04s2vWFF090gOI1qGqc6Pkm1d2fxvYrSuawtjmnO45xSOcX402Q6FT7JiVk91RFu9rPaMTg/s320/Rough+Stone+Rolling.jpg" style="height: auto; width: 204px;" /></a></span></div><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I had been loosely aware of the book, noting
in one journal entry that reviews I'd read praised it "for revealing the
prophet's weaknesses and bring[ing] him down from the pedestal of perfection we
Mormons are wont to set (and keep) him on." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">As I noted above, though, I had little
interest in knowing Joseph's weaknesses and mistakes — I didn't want to bring
him "down to my level." In that same journal entry, I expressed my
reticence about reading the book because I much preferred "[Joseph] were
able to stay up on that pedestal and help raise me up to his." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The church's apparent blessing of the book,
though, offered needed reassurance that it was "safe," meaning it
wouldn't undermine my testimony of Joseph Smith as God's prophet, seer, and
revelator. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">This is where the narrative picks up for me
again in late October 2007. My CES friend was effusive about<i> Rough Stone
Rolling </i>(in the way that perhaps only seminary and institute teachers can
be), and told me about how much the book had <i>strengthened </i>his testimony
of Joseph Smith as a prophet, seer, and revelator.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I reluctantly decided to give the book a
try. After purchasing it, I began reading it on my trolley rides home from work. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In his preface, Bushman further seemed put my
believing heart at ease, describing himself as a "believing
historian" and confessing that, for him, "pure objectivity is
impossible" (here he was speaking Packer's language). Bushman told readers
that he had written the book from an "irenic" viewpoint, which meant
he would describe Joseph’s visions and revelations as if they actually
occurred. Taking Joseph at his word, Bushman claimed, would give readers “unimpeded
access to [Joseph’s] mind.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In this same preface, though, he also sounded
alarm bells for me. Bushman noted that he intended to "look frankly at all
sides of Joseph Smith, facing up to his mistakes and flaws."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently sensing the need to justify this
approach to some readers, Bushman offered that "Flawless characters are
neither attractive nor useful. We want to meet a real person." In apparent
contravention of Packer's and Nelson's direction, Bushman further observed,
"Covering up errors makes no sense in any case."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I honestly wasn't so sure.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Very quickly, the contents of the book
unsettled me. In my journal entries, I started wondering openly whether I
really wanted to finish it. Bushman's position as a faithful, believing member
made the contents impossible to dismiss (I noted that there was no "mal
intent" with the book), but I found it <i>so</i> difficult to read about
the prophet's apparent flaws.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I also found Bushman's detached descriptions
of certain spiritual events (“perfunctory” is the word I used in my journal) to
itself be damaging. For instance, Bushman described the revelations as
"Joseph's" and discussed the development of his “prophetic voice”
(e.g., “The speaker stands above and outside Joseph, sharply separated
emotionally and intellectually.”)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my
apparent naiveté, I'd never thought of the canonized revelations as Joseph’s —
they were God’s revelations <i>to</i> Joseph. And the very idea that Joseph’s
voice would be in them at all (that he had done anything more than,
essentially, take dictation from God) tended to diminish the revelations to me, at least
back then.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Hardly a week into reading it, I wrote in my
journal, "A part of me tonight is wishing I had never picked up that
Bushman book."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Two weeks into the effort (I am not a fast
reader), I couldn't handle the book's contents any longer. Details of a culture
of magic and mysticism mixed with Christian religion (a culture to which the
Smiths seemed at least as susceptible as many others in the region), of a
family prone to believing tales of buried treasure guarded by Native American
spirits, of Joseph's use of peep stones to try to locate this treasure, of multiple accounts of the First Vision (though
the book still obfuscates any serious discrepancies), and Joseph's apparent use
of one of these peep stones in a hat to translate the gold plates (as opposed
to the correlated narrative and images of Joseph interpreting characters on the
plates as he read them) — these and so many other new "facts" left me
very, very uneasy. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I felt <i>darkness</i>, not light, as I read
and the narrative slowly chipped away at my heroic image of Joseph Smith. [And
I hadn't even gotten to discussions of a possible affair with (and his first
plural marriage to) Fanny Alger, or Joseph's extensive practice of polygamy and
polyandry (marrying women still married to other men), of which Bushman offers
precious little detail by comparison]. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I'd been taught that those dark feelings
meant the <i>absence</i> of the Holy Ghost (that it had “withdrawn” from me),
and was God's way of telling me when something was not true. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Except, how could these things not be true,
given Bushman's care as a "believing historian" and the church's
promotion of the book? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">[I recognize now that those "dark"
feelings were the result of cognitive dissonance, which is typical when one
confronts information that threatens their worldview or deeply held beliefs —
the more deeply held the belief, the darker those initial feelings.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In my journal entry on November 14, 2007, I
described and tried to justify my decision to abandon the book. Feeling pulled
in competing directions, I pointed to difficulties with the "scholarly
tone" of the book, even though Bushman still credited Joseph's claims of
divinity. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">[Looking back over the book now, what stands
out is how <i>little</i> attention (and how much justification) Bushman gives
to some of the more controversial aspects of Joseph's history. For one critique
of what's missing from Bushman's work, including the limitations of taking the
subject at his word, I suggest this brief <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WR8gQCopz4k" target="_blank">commentary</a> from (non-believing)
historian Dan Vogel. Vogel's own work on Joseph Smith would later be one of the final
blows to my faith].</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Here is an excerpt from that agonizing journal entry, and note
again the clear influence of Packer's remarks on my thought process (and my
wrestle with the obvious incongruity):<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: .5in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Almost
from the moment I started reading the book, I didn't like where it took me or
the thoughts it lead me to. I've had a hard time putting my finger on
why, and fought against the feeling over and over again that I should abandon
the book. When pressed, I couldn't give a good reason for putting it
down, except that something doesn't feel quite right about what I'm
reading. I'm not keen on the perfunctory tone in which spiritual
experiences or events are described, and I don't really like hashing through Joseph's
apparent weaknesses or the authenticity of the Book of Mormon. Yet even
collectively, I can't be sure that's exactly why. Abandoning the book
makes me feel like an intellectual coward. I want to know about Joseph's
life, but I don't want a "balanced" book. I realized last
night, though, that reading the book has made it harder for me to feel the Holy
Ghost, and after talking about things with Michelle — that settled the matter,
intellectual coward though I may be. I want to know about Joseph's life,
but I can't seem to stand even a "balanced" book. I want to
read a book about him that's every bit as scholarly and intellectually honest
though much more one-sided.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">That night I put the book on my shelf (literally and figuratively)
and went back to dedicating my studies solely to the church's correlated
materials. The dark feelings I'd experienced eventually gave way to the
familiar, comforting feelings I got with the correlated curriculum. </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">
<span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">It
would be three years before I decided to pick up the book again.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><b><u>Second Effort</u></b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">In early 2008, Michelle and I moved away from
La Mesa and a bit closer to downtown San Diego. The move significantly cut my
commute time to work. It also put us in an entirely new ward and stake (wards
and stakes are determined by geographic boundaries), which meant a release from
my calling in the bishopric.</span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The relief from church leadership didn't last long.
Within a month, I was called to be the executive secretary in our new ward (which meant
more bishopric and ward council meetings). And within three months of our move,
I was called to be a counselor in the bishopric of the new ward [which,
again, is rather remarkable for someone as introverted as I am]. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">That ward would be our home for the next 7+
years, and I was in the bishopric most of those years.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I don't remember what prompted me to make
another attempt at <i>Rough Stone Rolling</i> (and my journal is silent in that
regard). In mid-December 2010, there's a brief notation that I had started
reading it again. I recounted in that entry that "I'd put [<i>Rough Stone
Rolling</i>] down years ago because I didn't like what the book seemed to be
doing to my faith. I'm not finding that a problem at the moment." As I remember
it, I wasn't reading the book because I really wanted to learn anything about Joseph, but
mostly just to be able to say I'd made it through.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">About two weeks later, I finished. I had not
enjoyed the book so much as I had survived it. My observation in my journal
that night: "I'm still not sure if I liked learning about the prophet – if
it was helpful."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">A Move Toward Nuance</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">There's a fuzziness to the timeline regarding the
exact evolution of my thought process, but my experience with <i>Rough Stone
Rolling</i> proved to be a catalyst. Not <i>away</i> from faith (not for many
years yet) but toward a more nuanced approach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I came away from the experience even less</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> interested in church history. My marriage had only became more fraught as our
family of four turned to five, and as Michelle spent more of her years at home full-time with our little ones.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" id="id_b85e_d4a8_b092_a6e9" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMd1EBHn4NMmQidkkPR33X3BIiy5txyS8d5ZtAunc5GDG3xWWn8BDesEf0mF1zcuyLZECWo-jzfQX62sD873t4A7Vovnqhl0WKSHQqbWiRfEpdWZoxbg7UYJxPEJFJowfRT0ukA/s1600/Disneyland+2008.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" id="id_6d59_1e52_c40c_ade0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMd1EBHn4NMmQidkkPR33X3BIiy5txyS8d5ZtAunc5GDG3xWWn8BDesEf0mF1zcuyLZECWo-jzfQX62sD873t4A7Vovnqhl0WKSHQqbWiRfEpdWZoxbg7UYJxPEJFJowfRT0ukA/s320/Disneyland+2008.jpeg" style="height: auto; width: 320px;" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Clark Family - Disneyland 2008</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I still approached God and my daily scripture
study with a kind of meek desperation: could God show me what I needed to do — who I needed to be — to heal my marriage and make our home a happy one? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I had little time or interest in spiritual
pursuits that weren't bent on answering that question. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I knew now, though, that the correlated
version of church history was effectively white-washed. Bushman's book had
opened my eyes to the reality that Joseph Smith and others had flaws —
sometimes <i>serious </i>flaws. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">[Just try to imagine, for example, the Joseph
Smith movie above <i>also</i> depicting a young treasure-digging Joseph —
accepting money from people on the prospect he could use a peep stone to find
them buried treasure. And later using that same stone to translate gold plates
(by looking at the rock in a hat). Then depicting Joseph's polygamy and
polyandry (!) against the scene where (with no hint there were any other women
in Joseph's life but Emma) he counsels a new follower to help with household
chores to improve his marriage. That movie probably wouldn't offer the same
kind of feel-good experience as the current version — and that seemed to be
Packer's point about why he wanted church historians and educators to hide
those kinds of facts in the first place.] <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">None of this, though, affected my <i>firm</i>
belief in the foundational claims of the church — that Joseph had seen a vision
of God at 14, that an angel had given him the gold plates, that God had given
him power to translate the plates and later to restore his church. I also still
<i>loved</i> the Book of Mormon and other scripture; I still believed they were
God's revelations through Joseph. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I believed all those things because they
still<i> felt</i> true, and I spent my time and energy studying materials that
only reinforced those beliefs. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">As for Joseph’s imperfections that I'd read
about — the hazier the details in <i>Rough Stone Rolling</i> became with time,
the easier it was for me to take comfort in the idea that Joseph's flaws simply
highlighted God's ability (and willingness) to work through obviously imperfect
people.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">For someone like me, who often obsessed over
nagging imperfections, it felt like a very hopeful approach. Hence my claims to some in the years afterward that <i>Rough Stone Rolling</i> had actually strengthened my faith. Again, that was probably more aspirational than objectively true.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><b><u><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">The Opposite of Helpful</span></u></b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I did, however, become increasingly
disillusioned with Packer's comments and approach to church history. While
stopping short of criticizing him or the church outright (which you just don't
do), I blamed Packer's mindset for the turmoil I felt when I learned the
"truth" about Joseph. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I even went so far as to confide in others
that I found Packer's approach to be "the opposite of helpful." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">In recent years, the church has made <i>much</i>
greater efforts at transparency. This is evident in its numerous recent
projects (e.g., the gospel topics essays, the Joseph Smith Papers project, and the <i>Saints</i> history series),
as well as the simple fact that it embraced <i>Rough Stone Rolling</i> 16 years
ago. But, as I'll likely discuss in a later post, even with these efforts,
there’s still a sense of clear limitations to how transparent the church
is willing to be — that it's mostly just trying to retake control of (and reshape) the narrative for its members. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I sense this, in part, because the church now apparently denies any prior efforts to hide unfavorable
historical details. For instance, in this <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=2666&v=Uj2VWhuW50w&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">Face to Face event</a> (the relevant portion quoted below begins at about 47:30), apostle M.
Russell Ballard, with Oaks supportively at his side, <i>at best</i> seemed to
have forgotten Packer's (and Oaks' and Nelson's) vehement counsel in the
1980's. Assuring the youth of the church that the brethren have <i>never </i>tried
to hide anything, Ballard asserted, "There has been no attempt on the
part, in any way, of the church leaders trying to hide anything from
anybody." Moments later he continued, "So just trust us, wherever you
are in the world, and you . . . share this message with anyone who raises the
question about the church not being transparent: we're as transparent as we
know how to be in telling the truth. We have to do that. That's the Lord's
way."]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">Frankly, as much as I have respected Ballard
over the years for his seeming candor, this feels like gaslighting. For as earnest and folksy as Ballard comes across in the clip, his comments strike me as disingenuous with Packer’s,
Oaks’, and Nelson’s remarks on “advanced history” still ringing in my ears. </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">And it was this very inability of the church to own and admit to mistakes (manifest in far more than Ballard's remarks here) that</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> eventually hastened the erosion of
my faith: as the spiritual threads began to unravel years later, I realized that I could not trust these men to be honest with me.</span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">That turning point, though, was still years away
for me back then.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">But during this time period, I still began to
yearn for transparency from current leaders. Not because I questioned
whether they represented God (I didn’t), but because I felt hungry for some
sense of vulnerability — some hint that they, too, had <i>real</i> weaknesses.
I wanted to hear from someone that they had dealt with recurring depression. I
wanted reassurance that they had also weathered troubled marriages like
mine. I wanted someone to be strong enough to admit that they, too, were <i>trying</i>
to stop yelling at their kids. More than anything, I wanted someone in leadership willing to own up
to unflattering mistakes, if for no other reason than to feel a little less
alone in mine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">With few exceptions, though, I rarely
sensed that kind of vulnerability from the general authorities. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">A few years ago, I came across this <a href="https://religiondispatches.org/the-mormon-version-of-infallibility/" target="_blank">saying</a>: “Catholics
say the pope is infallible but don’t really believe it; Mormons say the prophet
is fallible but don’t really believe it.” At least on the Mormon end of that
observation, there’s a hint of humor, but also an uncomfortable dose of stinging
truth (at least for me). In fact, as much today as ever, the public persona of
the church’s general leadership seems to be so carefully cultivated that the
believing, unsuspecting membership [e.g., me back in the day] is left with the
strong impression that, like Joseph and other past church leaders, these men are the living embodiment of righteousness (though we'd
still give lip service to the idea that <i>of course</i> they aren’t perfect, only
Jesus was perfect). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">I feel like I’ve seen that movie before. And Bushman's observation in the preface to <i>Rough Stone Rolling </i>feels more salient now than ever: </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">"Flawless characters are neither attractive nor useful. We want to meet a real person."</span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt;">While I no longer believe in or affiliate
with the faith, I would still love to see more vulnerability
from the church’s general authorities. The fact that it remains the rare
exception, though, rather confirms for me that these same leaders are probably
a long way from being ready to steer the church to a point where it can be
truly vulnerable (truly honest) about its history — including its history with
history.</span></p>Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14942191.post-65742893470764179442021-02-07T08:15:00.003-08:002021-07-10T08:49:55.604-07:00Finding Safety in Counsel<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Get away from me.<br />
Just get away from me,<br />
This isn't gonna be easy!<br />
But I don't need you, believe me.<br />
Yeah you got a piece of me,<br />
but it's just a little piece of me.<br />
An' I don't need anyone,<br />
And these days, I feel like I'm fading away.<br />
Like sometimes, when I hear myself on the radio.</span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;"> </span></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i>Have you seen me lately?<br />
Have you seen me lately?<br />
Have you seen me lately?<br />
I was out on the radio starting to change,<br />
Somewhere out in America it's starting to rain,<br />
Could you tell me the things you remember about me,<br />
And have you seen me lately?<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[Counting Crows – “Have You Seen Me Lately?”]</span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;"> </span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;"><br /></span></p>
</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">At a memorable Stanford commencement address in 2005, Steve
Jobs made this observation about the faith it takes to "connect the
dots" to our future:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: .5in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0.5in 8pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">You can’t connect the dots looking
forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that
the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something –
your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. Because believing that the dots will
connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart even
when it leads you off the well-worn path; and that will make all the
difference.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A few years ago, Mormon apostle
Dieter F. Uchtdorf <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2019/03/your-adventure-through-mortality?lang=eng" target="_blank">referenced</a> this observation and compared it to the
neo-impressionist painting style — a technique that apparently requires
"dotting canvases with small specks of color." Up close, the
individual dots may appear "unconnected," "random," and
"arbitrary," but when one steps back to take in the whole painting,
the patterns and beauty of the art emerge.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Uchtdorf used that imagery to
offer hope to those struggling to make sense of the day-to-day chaos,
disappointment, and difficulty that dot our lives, insisting we can trust that
God (the "Master Artist") is working out his own designs. And,
ultimately, if we trust God and follow Jesus, we will eventually see the
masterpiece he has made — we’ll be able to see how all the dots intersect. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It is a beautiful thought.
As Jobs noted, though, the ability to discern the retrospective patterns and
beauty in one's life, as well as to trust that “the dots will somehow connect
in your future,” isn't something just reserved for Mormons, Christians, or even
believers generally.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That has been my experience thus
far, anyway, as I leave behind the “well-worn path” of Mormonism and slowly
make my way through this project — retracing the dots that now mark my journey <i>away</i>
from belief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">***</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In this particular entry — the first of a final series of posts setting up my faith deconstruction — I
re-examine my years at Harvard Law School, where my fixed devotion to Mormon
orthodoxy frequently clashed with the more progressive atmosphere in our
ward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Those clashes stemmed from
disagreements over all sorts of issues, the most prominent of which was the
church’s opposition to gay marriage. I staunchly defended the church's position
at the time, while many in the congregation apparently took a contrary
view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That divergence of viewpoints,
among otherwise faithful Latter-day Saints, always troubled me, because it
suggested a fundamental disagreement over just how much one trusted that the
church’s prophet spoke for God. And when the prophet provided clear direction,
could there still be room for faithful disagreement? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As I try to articulate below, the correlated church doctrine really doesn’t allow for space to question our leaders, much
less faithfully disagree with them. And back then, being in lock step with that
doctrine was all that I knew.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Fortunately, though, I had a
close friend during these law school years who was a bit more comfortable with
non-conformity. And while it took several years before any of that rubbed off
on me, his willingness to push back (when I tried calling him out!) would
eventually mean the world to me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Harvard Law School</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Michelle and I left BYU in late
summer 2002, selling our little Honda Civic to my parents and driving a Uhaul
cross-country to Cambridge, Massachusetts. We had been married about 2.5 years,
and I was to start at Harvard Law School in the fall. Those were still the days before Siri
and smart phones, and I remember vividly how nervous I was as we got closer and
closer to Boston: could we follow the street signs and navigate the city to our apartment (armed only with our printed Mapquest directions) without getting lost?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We knew virtually no one in the
Boston area, but one of the great comforts of Mormonism is the way it provides instant community. With one phone call to the bishop in our new ward,
someone even met us at our new apartment to help us unload the moving truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That feeling of religious
community eased our adjustment to east coast city living that first year, but
only slightly. In fact, our first year in Boston felt rather lonely. Michelle,
in particular, had trouble finding her place, and we dealt with a devastating
miscarriage over that first Christmas break (notwithstanding a Christmas Eve
family announcement of the pregnancy<i> and</i> a priesthood blessing — at my
hand — that the baby would be fine). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Meanwhile, I dealt with a serious
case of impostor syndrome at school, especially that first year. That feeling
was surely exacerbated by how introverted I was, but also by the fact that our
only grades came from final exams. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I did, eventually, find my
footing, though, settling somewhere in the middle of the pack of our class of
over 500. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Fortunately, the law school
boasted a significant group of Latter-day Saints — enough that we even had our
own student association. That core group provided meaningful, comfortable
connection for me without <i>too</i> much energy on my part [regrettably, I
don’t think I really ever got to know any other students outside that Mormon
circle]. We met semi-regularly, and I played all three years on the group's
intramural basketball team ("The Stormin' Mormons"). Besides church,
basketball was the most comfortable way for me to connect with people.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Midway through my second year of
law school, we had Jared (almost exactly a year after our miscarriage). </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: helvetica; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-transform: none; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcjeo4fkTulVBKwLoWzdcBiUPzPH9gQWa8AVELKzihXV5hv85xHXQsCu2Y5hpFew7sjcs2iWm_LYfZd8iUn_-lRUPsgQxh6DF1hBYg-NWIMzugUfol7XhyphenhyphenZhHvsLXGsLp6hTrb_A/s2048/Christmas+Photo+5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcjeo4fkTulVBKwLoWzdcBiUPzPH9gQWa8AVELKzihXV5hv85xHXQsCu2Y5hpFew7sjcs2iWm_LYfZd8iUn_-lRUPsgQxh6DF1hBYg-NWIMzugUfol7XhyphenhyphenZhHvsLXGsLp6hTrb_A/s320/Christmas+Photo+5.jpg" style="cursor: move;" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Christmas 2004</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">By
then, we'd also started to form a group of friends with other student couples
in the ward. We shared meals regularly, played board games and video games,
discussed politics and religion, and even sometimes watched together a
fledgling reality TV show, “The Apprentice.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Many of the couples we connected
with in those years are still among our dearest friends, even as time and
distance make connecting more difficult. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nVg8AfImdPrS1d9BedbUtwy9sb9rtoXWuPWig5ZLrEFkc80AEHrv26E2gSAi-JQZpW44K2UHnOUUdl035Jb4BzlVPGonqVs2pA-pnrkyaj85ejbWl-yiXW569zBEKVDw0fshFQ/s640/Maine.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nVg8AfImdPrS1d9BedbUtwy9sb9rtoXWuPWig5ZLrEFkc80AEHrv26E2gSAi-JQZpW44K2UHnOUUdl035Jb4BzlVPGonqVs2pA-pnrkyaj85ejbWl-yiXW569zBEKVDw0fshFQ/s320/Maine.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Maine - August 2004</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Cambridge 1st Ward</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As for the congregation we
worshipped with, the Cambridge 1st ward boasted an eclectic mix of mostly
post-graduate student families from MIT and Harvard, as well as a number of
established locals from all over the socioeconomic spectrum. So many of the
people in that ward were among the smartest, most genuine, thoughtful, and
caring people we had ever met, and we have many cherished memories of our time
there. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Frequently, though, church
meetings in Cambridge felt like a completely different world from anything we'd
known at BYU — or anywhere else, for that matter. The “thoughtfulness” of many
that I noted above often left me feeling uncomfortable, if not outright
threatened, because those thoughts frequently challenged my conservative and
orthodox bent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">["Orthodox" is a term
I've only felt comfortable applying to my beliefs in recent years; it hardly
felt appropriate before because the term seemed to diminish my beliefs as
simply being one of several acceptable approaches to gospel living. As I saw
things then, what I now term as “orthodox” beliefs were the <i>only</i> beliefs
that I thought were pleasing to God. Any more "liberal" views, on the
other hand, endangered one's prospects for exaltation. So I would have resisted
classifying my beliefs as anything other than "faithful."]<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Some examples of instances that
caused me discomfort in the ward included hearing of the former bishop's wife
asking to stand in the circle for her child's baby blessing. Or a priesthood
lesson where the teacher mentioned that a prominent former apostle was racist
(and doing so with a nonchalance that suggested the idea wasn't controversial).
Or hearing of a teacher in a Relief Society meeting open her lesson by
questioning whether Joseph Smith (the subject matter of the lesson) actually
deserved the fawning and near worship he enjoyed in the faith. Or even just a
young law school couple speaking in Sacrament meeting of their prayerful
decision to <i>delay</i> having kids until they were established in their
careers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Anything that strayed from the
beaten path of orthodoxy seemed to unsettle me, and that sort of thing seemed to happen on almost a weekly basis. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I won't blame you if find the above grievances relatively tame (I certainly do now). At the time, though, they
struck me as borderline apostate — well outside the norm of faithful adherence
to church doctrine and practice. And far more often than I care to admit, I
came away from church meetings thinking of the Book of Mormon's criticism of
the "learned [who] think they are wise" that "hearken not unto
the counsel of God" but instead "set it aside, supposing they know of
themselves, wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not.
And they shall perish." (2 Nephi 9:28).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That really wasn’t a healthy way
to be thinking of some of my fellow parishioners. It's certainly not charitable.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>"Finding Safety In
Counsel"</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So the one time I got the chance
to choose and teach a lesson in the priesthood meeting (elder’s quorum), I
opted to discuss then apostle Henry B. Eyring's talk, “<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/1997/05/finding-safety-in-counsel?lang=eng" target="_blank">Finding Safety in Counsel</a>.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Since my mission, Eyring had been
one of my favorite apostles to listen to and study. A Harvard Business School
graduate and long-time educator (he had been a Stanford professor and later the
president of Rick's college while Dad was there), Eyring used deceptively
simple language and themes to distill powerful, faith-filled messages. [I
loved, for example, his repeated mantra that the principles of the gospel of Jesus
Christ were simple enough that even a child could understand them.] Others have
been more skilled orators, but no one's style resonated with me as consistently
as Eyring's, whose sermons shaped my approach to discipleship more than any
other (and probably also my speaking style).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In this particular address,
Eyring emphasized the need to (quickly) obey the counsel of prophets and others
with "priesthood keys" (which would include local leaders like one's
bishop and stake president). He described obedience as "the path of
safety" — a path that would "make[] sense to those with strong
faith." Less so to those with little to no faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">For those who reject (or even
just delay) following prophetic counsel, Eyring asserted they are not merely
choosing to be independent or to be free from influence: they are actually choosing <i>Satan's</i>
influence, and that choice leaves them on "dangerous" ground. It also
"lessens [their] power to take inspired counsel in the future."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So, not really much room for
faithful disagreement.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I believed Eyring, and I believed
with all my heart his simple message that prophets speak for God. Our job was
to obey them without delay. This was, after all, the mainline, correlated
version of Mormonism I had always known. And this was precisely why I regularly
found worship in the Cambridge 1st ward exasperating: too much tolerance of
deviation from prophetic counsel — too much "independent" thinking.
As Eyring had made plain, that was dangerous ground. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The simplicity of Eyring's
message, though, belies a complexity just beneath the surface. Eyring speaks in
stark, absolute terms, leaving the clear impression that prophets do <i>not</i>
get it wrong — not when they are counseling and trying to keep us safe. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Eyring is certainly not alone in that message. For instance, Wilford Woodruff, fourth prophet and
president of the LDS church, offered this <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/dc-testament/od/1?lang=eng" target="_blank">firm assurance</a> (which is canonized in
scripture in connection with the church's "Official Declaration 1"
ending the practice of polygamy):<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: .5in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0.5in 8pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The Lord will never permit me or any other
man who stands as president of this church to lead you astray. It is not in the
programme. It is not in the mind of God. If I were to attempt that, the Lord
would remove me out of my place, and so He will any other man who attempts to
lead the children of men astray from the oracles of God and from their duty.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Even in primary, one of the more
<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/music/library/childrens-songbook/follow-the-prophet?lang=eng" target="_blank">emphatic songs</a> of my youth had this chorus: "Follow the prophet, follow
the prophet, follow the prophet; don't go astray. Follow the prophet, follow
the prophet, follow the prophet; he knows the way."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The problem is that it takes very
little digging to learn that Mormon prophets <i>do</i> seem to get it wrong
sometimes, priesthood keys notwithstanding. Among the more glaringly obvious
examples is the church's historical doctrines and attitudes toward people of
color, for which the church now <i>nearly</i> (but not quite) <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/gospel-topics-essays/race-and-the-priesthood?lang=eng" target="_blank">acknowledges</a> more
than a century's worth of prophetic mistakes in banning its black members from
holding the priesthood and participating in temple ordinances. [That history includes former
prophet Brigham Young’s <a href="http://mit.irr.org/brigham-young-we-must-believe-in-slavery-23-january-1852" target="_blank">fiery defense of slavery</a> before the Utah Legislature in
1852 ("<i>I will remark with regard to slavery, inasmuch as we believe in the
Bible, inasmuch as we believe in the ordinances of God, in the Priesthood and
order and decrees of God, we must believe in slavery</i>."),
as well a 1949 First Presidency <a href="https://www.missedinsunday.com/memes/race/proclamation-1949/" target="_blank">letter</a> <i>defending</i> the priesthood/temple
ban (claiming the ban was not unfair to black people because the "skin of blackness"
was a "curse" stemming from one's conduct in the pre-earth life).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Back then, though, I was still naïve enough to truly believe that prophets never <i>really</i> got it
wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[This, understandably, may sound
borderline ridiculous to those outside the church, especially given my studied
devotion and lifetime in the faith. But as I'll touch on more in future posts,
I had purposefully limited my religious studies to the correlated materials put
out by the church, and those materials never let on that prophets made
spiritual mistakes. Also, <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/science-choice/201504/what-is-confirmation-bias" target="_blank">confirmation bias</a> is a real thing, and it has <i>far</i>
more influence on how we filter information than most of us realize or are
prepared to acknowledge (except in those who disagree with us).]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">At any rate, I felt like my Iesson on
Eyring's sermon kind of fell flat. The people I felt most "needed” the message weren't even in the class. And among those who did attend, several
wanted to spend the hour discussing exceptions to the rule (i.e., instances
when it wasn’t necessary to follow prophetic counsel, or times when following a
priesthood leader's counsel led to harm). It was frustrating enough to validate my
perceptions of the ward. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Goodridge v. Department of
Public Health</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In our time at Harvard,
Massachusetts became one of the hot beds for the same sex marriage debate after
a November 2003 ruling by the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court in <i>Goodridge
v. Department of Public Health.</i> In<i> Goodridge</i>, the court held that
the state's ban on same sex marriage was unconstitutional. Following the
decision, the court stayed its ruling for 180 days to allow the state
legislature to take "appropriate" action. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In the aftermath of <i>Goodridge</i>,
I volunteered to lead a brownbag discussion with the LDS student group at the
law school. The handful of us that showed up for the discussion all seemed to
agree that<i> Goodridge </i>was wrongly decided. But when it came to
articulating <i>why</i> it was wrong, I remember sensing that all
our arguments seemed like thinly veiled appeals to morality (i.e., gay marriage
is morally wrong, so <i>Goodridge</i> was wrongly decided). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Strong legal arguments usually
needed more than that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Church Teachings on
Homosexuality</u></b> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As I noted at the outset, much of
the friction I felt in the Cambridge 1st ward came from the seemingly open
support of gay marriage by several in the ward. Based on what I understood
then, that seemed to be untenable for a faithful Latter-day Saint.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[Trigger Warning: the history I
lay out in this section could be triggering to some, especially those who have dealt
with religious trauma related to homophobic teachings and/or church practices.
If so, feel free to just skip to the section “<u>Gay Marriage</u>”]<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I've alluded to this before, but
the church's position on gay sex and gay marriage (for at least as long as I've
been alive) has been consistent in claiming both are contrary to the laws of
God. This is not to say that these things are mentioned <i>at all</i> in Joseph Smith's revelations or Mormon-specific scripture. But scripture does
state that "whether by [God's] voice or by the voice of [his] servants, it
is the same." [D&C 1:38]. And prophets and apostles in the church, at
least since the 1970s, have authoritatively denounced both. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">For instance, in an October 1976
general conference talk warning against masturbation (titled "To Young Men
Only"), apostle Boyd K. Packer stated that it was a "falsehood"
to claim "some are born with an attraction to their own kind." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The church made pamphlets of this
talk to distribute to young men, and these pamphlets were still prevalent in
the mid-1990s. I remember getting ahold of one and reading it at some point in
my teenage years. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[In recent years, the church
quietly seems to not only have pulled the pamphlet from circulation, but to
have scrubbed the talk from its conference archive entirely.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Meanwhile Spencer W. Kimball,
church president and prophet from 1973-1985, in his seminal book<i> The Miracle
of Forgiveness</i> — the book, remember, that I had been assigned to read as
part of my repentance process in the Missionary Training Center — claimed that
homosexuality was an "ugly," "repugnant,"
"embarrassing," and "unpleasant" perversion, and that those
who claim "that there is nothing wrong in such associations can hardly
believe in God or in his scriptures."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGr9KLuNNid65-NTqXsGyzDgS6FVXMsn_HBeDzONB5-b1Qr5XLnNkRDPFAY6nNKGXWnkeLE6qkH8jHis9AUdO8gjoQXERdeLErMvzJKXKNvtWksgdpU7cXIoEtbKR6hohK1R8VhQ/s500/The+Miracle+of+Forgiveness.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="326" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGr9KLuNNid65-NTqXsGyzDgS6FVXMsn_HBeDzONB5-b1Qr5XLnNkRDPFAY6nNKGXWnkeLE6qkH8jHis9AUdO8gjoQXERdeLErMvzJKXKNvtWksgdpU7cXIoEtbKR6hohK1R8VhQ/s320/The+Miracle+of+Forgiveness.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Kimball would go further,
asserting that it was a "glorious thing to remember" that
homosexuality is "curable and forgiveable . . . if totally abandoned and
if the repentance is sincere and absolute." Meanwhile, the idea of
homosexuality as an inborn trait was one of the "diabolical lies Satan has
concocted. It is blasphemy." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">To those claiming homosexuality
cannot be changed, Kimball offered a particularly troubling bit of imagery:
"How can you say the door cannot be opened until your knuckles are bloody,
till your head is bruised, till your muscles are sore? It can be done." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And, comparing homosexuality to
vices like alcoholism, Kimball offered that the "cure" to being gay
"is as permanent as the individual makes it and, like the cure for
alcoholism, is subject to continued vigilance."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Without any support (though,
frankly, prophets don’t necessarily need support since they are supposed to be the
mouthpiece of God on earth), Kimball also asserted in the book that
masturbation "too often leads" to homosexuality.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[Notably, this book remains <a href="https://deseretbook.com/p/miracle-forgiveness-spencer-w-kimball-61027?ref=Grid%20%7C%20Search-1&variant_id=41962-ebook" target="_blank">for sale</a> in the church owned book store].<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It will become quite relevant to
my story later, but I should note here that the church launched a website in
2012, mormonandgay.org, that aimed to offer help and support to those in the
church dealing with "same sex attraction" [the church’s alternative term].
While still condemning gay relationships, the site made the <a href="https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/mckaycoppins/mormon-church-sexuality-is-not-a-choice" target="_blank">significant concession</a> acknowledging that people did not choose to be gay ("Even
though individuals do not choose to have such attractions…."). For me at least,
this was a <i>major </i>theological shift that threw into chaos how I made
sense of the church's (God's) approach to LGBTQIA issues. That is to say, the
church's position in the face of this shift no longer made intuitive sense — it
required lots of contortion, if not just holding two dissonant ideas.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Curiously, though, the site has
been removed in recent years. And since Russell M. Nelson became the prophet in
2018, this language — that gay people "do not choose to have such
attractions" — has been <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/topics/gay/individuals?lang=eng" target="_blank">modified</a> with the qualifier that they<i> may</i>
not choose such attractions: "While same-sex attraction is not a sin, it
can be a challenge. While one may not have chosen to have these feelings, he or
she can commit to keep God’s commandments."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And officially now, the church
"does not take a position on the cause of same-sex attraction." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[Oh, but the <a href="https://newsroom.churchofjesuschrist.org/article/interview-oaks-wickman-same-gender-attraction" target="_blank">interview</a> the church
cites for the above statement, which includes current First Presidency member Dallin
H. Oaks, also states that LGBTQIA individuals will be heterosexual in the next life
("Gratefully, the answer is that same-gender attraction did not exist in
the pre-earth life and neither will it exist in the next life."). And, if gay individuals are faithful here, they will get to have an eternal, heterosexual marriage after
death. Oaks also reiterates in this interview the theme that feelings of gay
attraction are similar to temptations to steal, drink alcohol, or give in to
anger.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Gay Marriage</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In 1995, the church issued its
"<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/the-family-a-proclamation-to-the-world/the-family-a-proclamation-to-the-world?lang=eng" target="_blank">Proclamation on the Family</a>," which I referenced in my last post. In
it, the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve Apostles proclaim to the
world that "marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God"
and both "central" and "essential" to his plan.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">With this in mind, the church has
repeatedly opposed legislative and judicial efforts to "expand" the
definition, protections, and privileges of marriage beyond the union of one man
and one woman.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">For instance, in October 1999,
then prophet Gordon B. Hinckley, in a sermon "<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/1999/10/why-we-do-some-of-the-things-we-do?lang=eng" target="_blank">Why We Do Some of the Things We Do</a>," offered a brief explanation of the church's opposition to
"same-sex marriage." Hinckley noted that "God sanctioned
marriage between a man and a woman has been the basis of civilization for
thousands of years" and that there was "no justification to redefine
what marriage is." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[People more discerning than I
was then may sense the irony of Hinckley's statement, given the church's
prominent history of polygamy and its (God’s) more expansive definition of
marriage a century earlier. The doctrine of “eternal polygamy” (apparently to be
practiced by the faithful in the next life) also remains on the books in
Mormon scripture (D&C 132).]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">From there, Hinckley positioned
the church's opposition of same sex marriage as matter of morality:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: .5in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0.5in 8pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Some portray legalization of so-called
same-sex marriage as a civil right. This is not a matter of civil rights; it is
a matter of morality. Others question our constitutional right as a church to
raise our voice on an issue that is of critical importance to the future of the
family. We believe that defending this sacred institution by working to
preserve traditional marriage lies clearly within our religious and
constitutional prerogatives. Indeed, we are compelled by our doctrine to speak
out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As one who believed that Hinckley
was God's prophet, the issue seemed clear cut: homosexuality was a choice, and
homosexual romantic relationships were morally wrong. Therefore, gay marriage
was wrong and should be opposed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Not having carefully thought
through all the implications, I further reasoned that the law should proscribe
<i>anything</i> that could encourage or protect such relationships.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[I'll also note here that, at this
point in my life, I had not yet had a close relationship with anyone who was
openly LGBTQIA.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Confronting the Bishop<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">One Sunday (February 15, 2004),
our bishop offered some remarks at the outset of our Sacrament meeting. As I
recorded that afternoon, the bishop noted that there were divergent views in
the ward on same-sex marriage, with people vigorously defending both sides of
the issue. He offered that we should "keep an open mind" about the
divergent positions and posited that the gospel of Jesus Christ embraces
"both sides of the spectrum."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The bishop's remarks disturbed me
because, as Hinckley had explained years earlier, I understood the church's
opposition to same-sex marriage was "a matter of morality" and
"compelled by our doctrine." So the bishop seemed to be spreading false
doctrine by claiming that our faith could embrace "both sides." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I was beside myself with
frustration.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That afternoon, I felt so bothered
by the bishop's comments that I emailed him, pointing to Hinckley's remarks and
asking if he could explain how it was possible for faithful members to support
same-sex marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He responded a few days later,
largely deflecting my inquiry. As the bishop remembered it, he hadn't commented
on the propriety of supporting same-sex marriage. Rather, he said he was
addressing the debate over whether the church should be involved
in "political" themes like gay marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It is, of course, possible that I’d
misunderstood the bishop, but I was doubtful (I still am, frankly). And even taking
the bishop at his word, I <i>still</i> didn't see room in Hinckley's remarks to
support what he'd said over the pulpit. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">[About 7 years ago, I connected
with this man on Facebook. As I'll describe in a later post, I was then serving
in a bishopric and wrestling with the church's approach to LGBTQIA issues. I
thanked this bishop for the sensitivity he had demonstrated all those years ago
— a sensitivity that felt so strangely threatening at the time. I also
apologized for the hard time that I gave him. He thanked me but confessed that
he didn’t remember what I was referring to.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Doubling Down</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In 2004, there was a national
push to amend the US Constitution to ban gay marriage (and free states from
having to recognize same sex civil unions allowed by other states).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And in July and October 2004, the
church weighed in further on the issue. In July, the First Presidency issued a
brief statement voicing support for a constitutional amendment. The statement
noted simply that the church "favors a constitutional amendment preserving
marriage as the lawful union of a man and a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In October 2004, the First
Presidency issued a <a href="https://newsroom.churchofjesuschrist.org/article/first-presidency-statement-on-same-gender-marriage" target="_blank">slightly longer statement</a> on the topic. It began by
expressing "understanding and respect" for people "attracted to
those of the same gender." But then the statement doubled down on the
ideas that (1) God only authorizes sex (the "exercise" of "the
powers of procreation") between a husband and wife, and (2) any other form
of sex "including [] between persons of the same gender" undermines
the "divinely created institution of the family." For these reasons,
the church favored "measures" defining marriage as "the union of
a man and a woman<i>" and</i> that "do not confer legal status on any
other sexual relationship."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>"Unfair and
Dangerous" </u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Following the church's October
statement, Dave Vincent, a close law school friend (and fellow ward member) sent an email to
a few of us, offering his thoughts. Dave was (and is) one of the kindest
people I know. He was also rather liberal (which in and of itself was radical to me) and routinely challenged conventional church thought. His
email continued that trend, wondering openly whether this First Presidency
statement was meant to be doctrine, or whether it could be parsed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Dave took the latter position, further questioning how much
weight to give those parts of the statement offering political opinion and advocating
for particular legislation. My friend then concluded offering a nuanced argument that
acknowledged the church's preferred definition of marriage, but that <i>also</i>
made room for conferring legal status on same-sex relationships (which the
church statement expressly disfavored). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">At the time, even that level of
nuance (sensitivity, really) felt dangerous to me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Feeling a swell of what I
probably considered righteous indignation (the allowable form of anger in the
faith), I fired off a response to my friend, bearing testimony that the First
Presidency's statement surely expressed the "mind, will, and voice of the
Lord on the matter" and that it was now our job to "properly align
our thinking and conform with such." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I further stated that I believed
my position was "the only plausible interpretation." And, with clear
echoes of Eyring's address, I told my friend that it was "unfair and
dangerous" to try to compartmentalize the statement to justify a policy
position at odds with the church.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i>Yikes!</i> [I've been cringing
inside over that response for more than a decade.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I'd never risked such boldness.
But, if pressed, I likely would've said I was trying to "lovingly"
"reprov[e] [] with sharpness," having been "moved upon by the
Holy Ghost." [D&C 121:43 — the Mormon scripture outlining how to
properly call someone out.]<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">This was the first and only time
I'd openly challenged the unorthodox thought I'd felt surrounded by since we'd
arrived in Cambridge. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Not one to back down, Dave responded quickly and firmly. He picked apart the tone of my bold declarations
and further put my claims in historical context (a context that, up to that
point, had been <i>completely</i> lost on me). And in the end, he really just
wanted room for respectful consideration of his thoughts on the matter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The doctrine I knew, though,
didn't really allow for that. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We went back and forth a few more
times, reverting to more and more respectful tones with each follow
up. And after we made peace on the subject (reaching the point where we
seemed to understand each other but still disagreed), what lingered with me was
that Dave told me he knew I was a "good" man.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As I've looked back on that experience over the years, it's been clear for awhile that he was much kinder to me than I had been to him, even though I deserved it so much less than he did.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><u>Moving On</u></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A few months later we graduated
and moved to separate corners of the earth. Michelle and I moved west to Orange
County, California, where I studied for that beastly California bar exam and
began work at a law firm in Irvine. Dave and his family moved to Europe, and not too long
after was called as the bishop of his ward. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Over the years, we continued
those challenging exchanges from time to time. Usually they followed the same
pattern: Dave would share his thoughts on some event or development
relating to our shared faith, and I would respond clumsily with passionate
orthodoxy. He would then push back, kindly but unflinchingly, almost always
revealing that he'd clearly studied and thought more carefully about the issue
than I had. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As I look back now, I don't know
why he put up with me and kept reaching out, but it was <i>so</i> important to
my spiritual development that he did.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It would be several years before
any of Dave's arguments began to resonate with me (though, to be fair, I
never got the sense that persuasion was his goal; he really just seemed to want
engagement). And it would be even longer before Michelle or I felt comfortable
deviating, in the slightest, from our alignment with church orthodoxy (e.g.,
our kids will be telling their grandkids horror stories about how we made them
stay in church clothes <i>all day</i> on Sundays). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But knowing Dave and
engaging him over the years still had profound effects on my faith. If nothing
else, knowing him made me slower to vilify nonconformity in the church — more
cautious about labeling divergent viewpoints with the usually lazy tropes of
ignorance, intellectual arrogance, or a plain old desire to justify sin. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Also, eventually, I started
listening to people a bit more carefully, too, treating more gently (as I knew
Dave would) the thoughts and experiences of those for whom the faith
didn't always work as it was supposed to. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And, because life is nothing if
not ironic, when I reached the point of battling my own frustrating issues with
the faith (issues that I couldn't adequately resolve through orthodoxy), Dave was one of few I felt safe turning to for help — help now to try to find
authentic grounds to stay in it.</span><o:p></o:p></p><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3gQE07-FvO5hYvh6OBJpQ0Ty_CJ9e1iLLKfH5WaE3kdUaWS2nYYWuZhMmV5PoLF1FfcoMrv5IVmUa9s5HbTM0lFKHgQU2jMCDK507RSfDOAoIydsmKuWtqPd51VJoOOjkzPNJA/s2048/Dave+Photo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3gQE07-FvO5hYvh6OBJpQ0Ty_CJ9e1iLLKfH5WaE3kdUaWS2nYYWuZhMmV5PoLF1FfcoMrv5IVmUa9s5HbTM0lFKHgQU2jMCDK507RSfDOAoIydsmKuWtqPd51VJoOOjkzPNJA/s320/Dave+Photo.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dave Vincent and Me - Germany 2019</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Aaron Clarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04212521061270482157noreply@blogger.com1