This was originally posted as a comment. I thought it might get more response as a full-blown post.
Guest post by Tim
Several months ago, I came to this site under the greatest anguish. Since that time I have learned far too much. I have very nearly left the church on several occasions and even wrote a letter but never delivered. In the last couple weeks I came to a point where I felt at peace with the church, that I can finally get on with it and not worry any more. In fact I even decided to go ahead and get my recommend renewed. The new scanner model is in effect in January.
Well, after I get it renewed, I felt good about it. I also realized afterward that I did not even care if it was all true or not. Maybe that disqualifies me as a worthy holder of my recommend…
As many of you know, this week starts the new study years in GD class on the BoM and this year also starts the new PH/RS classes on the teachings of Joseph Smith. As I sat in GD class I was so uncomfortable as we discussed the beginnings of the BoM. I felt like I wanted to either blurt out corrections or get up and leave. As I sat down at home today and read through the new ToJS lesson manual I wanted to throw up. I have studied too much lately it seems, because I felt like I was reading utter non-sense as fact after fact was omitted. I was astounded at how awful I felt reading it, like I was doing something terribly wrong in doing so. Only a year ago these same things were the greatest comfort…
Before today, I really thought I was going to make it-ya know? I had some concern about how I would feel with the new material, but had no idea it would be this profound.
So I ask, how does one continue on? How do you manage to keep it up and teach knowing that what you are saying is against your new beliefs (if you are still actively serving, that is)? Or even if you don’t teach, how do you fulfill your callings if your testimony disappears? Or do you?
In an episode of Law and Order, the director of a residential facility for severely mentally disabled children and adolescents is charged with causing the death of a resident by using a banned “control” device. As evidence in his favor, one of the other residents “testifies,” using a letter board, guided by his mother. A simple test by Our Man, Sam Waterston, demonstrates that it is the mother, not the boy, who is selecting what to “say.” It’s a very sad scene. In conference afterwards, Sam identifies what has happened clearly: the woman has now realized that she’s spent the last five years talking to herself.
I sometimes feel like that about prayer. Like I’m saying what I want, and what I hope, and what I feel, but I might as well be talking to myself. There are the occasional glimmers of a response, but they are few and far between, and I mistrust them even while I count myself fortunate for them.
This puts me in a predicament. I have a number of callings in my ward. One of these callings offers the scope to recommend others to replace me in some of these callings. Also, there are other callings that need filling that I need to make recommendations for. How am I to do this if God isn’t speaking to me? I get ideas, and ask God about them, and get back nothing. No “stupor of thought,” no warm fuzzies, no pleasant confirming thoughts. Nothing. Talking to myself.
I want to honor the process. I want to do the right thing. I want to recommend people to fill these positions. But there is a “right way” to do this, and I don’t seem to be capable of it.
I’ve never been very eager about home teaching, but I hadn’t considered it dangerous. Until recently, that is.
The Deseret News reports that a home teachee pistol whipped his home teacher in Provo. Apparently they were arguing - maybe over the beattitudes? - and the teachee pulled out his “large silver revolver” and hit the teacher in the face with it. According to the report, he’s awaiting bond. I’m guessing that he won’t be calling his home teachers for help in posting the $5000.
And it isn’t just the home teachers who can find the assignment dangerous. The recent story from Oregon about the man who allegedly molested a child while he was the family’s home teacher suggests that the person in the white shirt & tie may not necessarily have your best interests at heart. No, the world is a more complicated place than that.
My own experience with home teaching has been much more mundane. As a child, I wasn’t usually very excited when the home teachers came to visit. The strongest memories I have of home teaching as a teen were that one of my companions, Brother Johnston, was a very nice guy who knew my grandpa years ago when they worked together in the mine. Oh, and that one of the families had a Playboy calendar posted conspicuously near the front door. I suppose that some people would consider that a dangerous assignment, but I was a teenage boy, so I counted it a blessing.
A few years ago, the relief society did a lesson for the benefit of the priesthood about what they have learned from home teaching. One sister described how her home teacher was there when she needed him to be. The other described how her home teacher was a slothful servant whose lackadaisacal attitude prevented her from having the priesthood in her home. The odd thing is that they were both served (or not) by me. I saw them the same, treated them the same, and to one I was a shining example while to the other I was unfit to be called a home teacher. Different people have different expectations, don’t they?
I’m not currently home teaching, but we do let home teachers come by on the last day of the month. They are nice people, and it makes them feel better. They seem safe, and I promise not to pistol whip them.
I was sitting in on the last 15 minutes of ward council, to go over the calendar with the real ward council. They had been talking about goals. I came in during the last few minutes of that conversation. I sat next to the Relief Society president.
When we were done with the calendar, I turned to her. For no apparent reason, I said, “C., if you’d like me to, I can be a visiting teacher again.” I suggested some people I would like to visit. She asked me if I could train a new visiting teacher. After Relief Society I recanted my suggested visit-ees. “C., whoever you need me to visit, that’s who I’ll visit.”
The next week, C. gave me a list of the women I was to visit. It was the same as the people I had suggested, which was nice.
I’m kind of a crappy visiting teacher. I like the visiting part, mostly, but it’s the helping I’m not so good at. It goes back to my theory that people are vast sucking black holes of need who take and take and take and give nothing back in return. But the stars have aligned in the last few weeks to make it easy for me to go. I was sitting outside the clerk’s office and my new companion sat down, so I brought up visiting teaching and she was very excited. I didn’t make appointments like I said I would the first week, so the second week I actually tried to make an appointment. And today, we went.
I had forgotten how much like a ministry it feels to be a visiting teacher. We visited a woman who has been housebound after surgery for over a month. She was so happy for company and we just talked and talked and talked and it was so nice to be able to just be there with her. At the end we talked about forgiveness and shared some experiences about it and then had a prayer. I didn’t hear any thunderbolts or heavenly choirs but it was a Good Thing. I felt blessed. A funny word to use, but it fits.
I think one of the reasons some of these “commandments” I’m “obeying” seem so pleasant and effortless is because I’m not really “obeying.” Situations come up and I go along with what’s happening because it feels right. And it is.
A friend gave me permission to share part of an email with you. He is a former bishop who lives in a densely LDS area, and has gone from believer to disbeliever. He wrote,
I was watching a segment on the history channel last week called “Heaven
and Hell” and I perked up when they mentioned the historical common
practice of conquering kings giving the defeated kings new names to
diminish any influence or authority the defeated kings once had and to
establish the conquering kings dominance. I couldn’t help but think about
the new name they gave me in the temple and in addition, I had just
discussed with my wife that I didn’t really like all of my neighbors and
friends calling me Bishop all the time still. I’m sure they are just doing
this out of respect but I really would like to be called by my real name
as a unique individual and with my own rational and critical thoughts and
reasoning abilities. I am feeling more and more uncomfortable with any
symbolism that outwardly suggests I submit to Mormon perceived authority
or dominance in my life.
He recognizes that “Hello, Bishop Jones” is surely meant as a sign of respect, but now it grates on him. He would rather be known by his first name than by a title. The old saying that “Once a bishop, always a bishop” just doesn’t work well for him any more. I suggested that he reply, “Once a Gary, always a Gary” when asked why he doesn’t go by “Bishop” any longer.
What do you think: How significant is your name in the context of church? Do titles grate on you the way they do Gary? What role does your name, and the individuality it represents, carry in your spiritual journey?
PS - Of course, I’ve changed Gary’s name. If your former bishop is named Gary Jones, please don’t think that he sent me this email. On the other hand, if you have a former bishop who is named something other than Gary Jones, then maybe it was he who emailed me…. 
I believe that “O Be Wise,” by Elder M. Russell Ballard from the October 2006 LDS General Conference, will go down as one of the most important “modernizing” talks ever given by an LDS General Authority–if anyone actually pays attention.
This talk was absolutely groundbreaking to me. Please allow me to provide a few examples:
Continue reading ‘“O Be Wise,” or Praise be to Elder Ballard’
Have you ever wondered what your calling was? I’m not speaking of a calling you recieve from your local priesthood leader, but a vocation—some special pursuit toward which your unique talents and desires orient you.
Continue reading ‘What’s Your Calling?’
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