Do We Really Want Them Back?
Thoughts about wanting people back in our church.
Them.
Leaders of my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, keep inviting them back. In 2013, President Uchtdorf said it like this.
Regardless of your circumstances, your personal history, or the strength of your testimony, there is room for you in this Church.
More recently, Russell M. Nelson said it as part of his first address as our church president.
Whatever your concerns, whatever your challenges, there is a place for you in this, the Lord’s Church.
Seeing… Them
Whatever their concerns? Whatever their challenges? Regardless of their circumstances?
What if seeing their concerns makes us really uncomfortable?
What if our culture is so accustomed to focusing on the positive and shushing hard things that we don’t know how to deal with it when people share their concerns, challenges, and circumstances?
What if we get defensive? Instead of listening and loving, what if our more common reaction is to correct them and tell them not to worry about the issue or tell them that it’s an anti-Mormon lie from an untrustworthy source?
What if seeing them feels threatening? How can we welcome them back if we can’t even look at them?
What if many of their concerns are valid? What if the truth hurts?
What if becoming more familiar with some of Joseph Smith’s behaviors makes you feel sick when compared with what you previously understood about him?
What if learning more about the origins of the Book of Mormon or the Book of Abraham or the Joseph Smith Translation of the Bible makes you feel deceived?
What if watching your LGBTQ sister attempt suicide made you choose to support her rather than remaining in the church that made her existence seem impossible?
What if studying more of the words of the prophets makes you less inclined to believe they can never lead you astray?
What if understanding our history with Blacks and women and interracial marriage and the evolution of our temple ceremonies makes it feel like today’s teachings are more fluid than you once supposed? What if it makes you feel like your firm foundation isn’t as steady as you’d hoped?
Do we really want them back? With all their messy concerns, challenges, and circumstances? Wouldn’t it be so much nicer if we could just pretend they were bad people and exclude them from our lives?
Too often, that’s what we’ve done.
When I think of them, people who have left the church, these are the first people I think of.
These are also the people I love most in this world. Them.
1 Corinthians 13 and Moroni 7 mirror the same message.
8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
Love isn’t just more important than prophecy and tongues and knowledge. It’s way, way, way more important.
It never fails.
In comparison, everything else is tinkling cymbals and sounding brass.
Why do we have to make it so complex?
We take a simple idea any child can understand and twist it into something complicated. Something that pushes people out of our lives and out of our church instead of drawing them closer to us.
I believe the people I love most might think about coming back to this church if we could put love in its proper place. As the greatest commandment.
Love and Fear
Love doesn’t fear. They are oil and water.
When love guides us, we don’t have to fear hard things. We don’t have to fear the truth about our history. We don’t have to soft release essays that only ex-Mormons know about. We don’t need to inoculate our youth with little bits of ugly so they aren’t surprised later by shocking dumpster fires of ugly.
Love is confident that no matter how hard the truth is, it will set us free.
“And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” John 8:32
Imagine how simple a discussion about our history could be if we focused more on love than on our fears and institutional insecurities.
Simplified Church History Discussion Led by Love:
I learned a hard thing about our history.
Tell me more.
This and this and this.
More important than anything that happened 200 years ago or 100 years ago or 5 years ago, the most important thing I want you to know is that I love you. You aren’t alone. Don’t be afraid. We’ll go through this together.
If we don’t have love in this church, we don’t have anything. If we do have love, everything else can fail and we’ll be OK.
The End
In other words, no matter your concerns, challenges, or circumstances, there is a place for you in this church.
Or there could be. If we could think and act this way. If we could make love our priority.
Joseph Smith isn’t the goal. The Book of Mormon isn’t the goal. The Bible isn’t the goal. The temple isn’t the goal. Avoiding premarital sex isn’t the goal. Joining our church isn’t the goal.
These are all means to the end. Moons that reflect the sun; but they’re not the sun.
The sun. The essence. The fruit. The sweet fruit from the tree. The love of God that fills our hearts and binds us with each other.
The sweet fruit the Lord of the vineyard prizes above all. The sweet fruit on the tame tree in the good part of the vineyard. The sweet fruit on the wild tree in the nethermost part of the vineyard.
The sweet fruit. The love of God. Love one another. This is the goal.
When people fail to experience the fruit, they leave our church.
We’ve all watched people we care for leave our church. We fail them when our response to their doubts is driven by fear rather than by love.
Can we try love? Whether they ever come back or not, can we try love?
Thoughts of My Kids
The other day, without giving them any context, I asked two of my kids, Chris (16) and Lucy (12), a question. Here’s the transcript from the recording (shared with their permission).
Me: If you found out somebody had lied to you, do you think you could still be friends with them?
Lucy: It depends on what they lied about…
Chris: Yeah…
Lucy: and like, why they tended to lie.
Me: Like, why they lied?
Lucy: Yeah
Me: What if they thought they were doing something to help you?
Lucy: It… I would be mad but it wouldn’t ruin our friendship.
Me: You think you could get over it if you knew they lied to you but they thought they were helping you?
Lucy: Yeah
Me: What about you Chris?
Chris: For me, it would just depend on how severe the lie would affect me personally.
Lucy: That’s true.
Chris: It… it more just depends on the situation but like most of the time I would be, probably be able to, like, accept it.
Me: What if you had had a long… what if you had been friends a long time with that person? And you’d known them for, like, 10 years or more?
Chris: I’d wanna keep that good relationship
Lucy: Yeah
Me: Yeah
Chris: Yeah
Lucy: [Shaking her head yes]
They wondered why their simple answers caused tears to come to my eyes.
Do we really want them back?
Thoughts of My Wife
I shared the transcript above with my wife. She agreed. Then went on to vent for another 30 minutes.
If something about our church is creating pain, it doesn’t feel safe to discuss it. Instead of addressing the painful problem, people at church just think you’re the problem for thinking there is a problem.
It’s a great way to train people to stop talking. Then they leave.
Our church and its surrogates may have a million answers proving they’re right. But if people don’t feel heard and respected, they leave. If people don’t feel safe, they leave. If people don’t feel like there is any hope of improving things, they leave.
If people don’t feel love in our church, they leave.
Yet even with the weight of years of frustration, when I asked my wife how she would feel about the church if some very basic issues could change, she was quick to answer. Yes, she could picture herself coming back and finding joy in our church again.
I would love to see my wife feel joy in the church again.
I remember when she was the director of the Canyon Springs singles branch choir. The smiling yellow sunshine she glued to a large popsicle stick. She held it up where only the choir could see it. A reminder to smile as we sang.
I know of the joy she felt then and the joy she has often felt in our church over the years.
Do we really want them back?
Listening is Loving
Last night I got a text from my bishop. I’ve been writing and re-writing this stupid post for days. He asked me if I wanted to hang out.
Sometimes I feel so out of place at church. Sometimes I wonder why God asked me to return to this church.
This know-it-all church.
This church that goes to great lengths to tiptoe around weird issues like polyandry. Issues that most of our members don’t even know about. Until they do. When it breaks their hearts, their trust, and their faith.
What if we put that much effort into humbly admitting our warts and inviting them back? What if we cared more about love than maintaining the appearance of always being right?
Sometimes it makes me angry.
Yes, I’m a temple recommend holding guy who is sometimes really frustrated that this church doesn’t feel like a safe and loving place for my family.
Where was I?
Oh, my bishop. He just felt like he should give me a call. Just wondered if I needed to talk.
HELL YES I NEED TO TALK!!!!!
Thank you for asking.
We talked. Mostly I talked. And he listened. Again. Like he has before.
Like another friend in the ward a few days earlier.
They listened. Without correcting me. Without making me wonder if I was going to lose my temple recommend for exposing some of what I really feel.
They listened.
We talked one with another concerning the welfare of our souls. Something that I’ve found to be very difficult since returning to church.
Yes, the faithful love it when I appear to fit the mold. They love it when I’m on script.
Do we really want them back?
Church, you’re stuck with me whether I want it or not. I keep trying to jump back into the ocean to the safety of the whale. God keeps spitting me back onto the shore of this crazy church with a little-dog complex.
Unless they kick me out, you’re stuck with me. But do you want my family? Do you want my friends? Do you want them with all their messy concerns and challenges and circumstances?
Prophets say we want them back. I want them back.
Do you agree?
Do you agree enough to do something about it? Do you agree enough to love them, no matter the outcome?
Do We Really Want Them Back?
With all their concerns, challenges, and circumstances, do we really want them back?
Is there really a place in our church for them?
I hope so.
