You've Been Charged With Hypocrisy: How Do You Plead?

As a New Order Mormon (a Mormon who does not believe in the church but still attends), I get a lot of ex-Mormons and other Mormons who don't really understand why my husband and I are still attending church. Sometimes they argue that we're being hypocritical by continuing to attend church and support an organization that we no longer intellectually affiliate with.

That's a fair charge. And you know what? I plead guilty. I do often feel like a hypocrite and I experience a great deal of stress and cognitive dissonance every time I interact with the church in any kind of official capacity or whenever I interact with TBMs (which is fairly regularly).

So, you might be asking things like how can I sleep with myself at night? Well, the reason is that right now I prioritize other things over my personal integrity and the consistency of my public appearance. Right now, I'm placing a higher priority on my relationship with my family, friends, and neighbors than my personal integrity. Personal integrity is of course important to me, but right now it's being placed on the back burner next to weightier matters such as my relationships with other people.

Let me state up front that we intend to ask for releases from our callings and gradually slide into inactivity between the months of April to July. It's all part of the plan, so don't get too worried.

Allow me to explain our past and current reasons for continuing to attend church as they've evolved over time:

1. We wanted to give our family members time to get acclimated to the idea that we would eventually leave the church. The whole time we were struggling with our faith crisis, we kept it strictly between ourselves. We didn't tell our bishop or our family members because we wanted to work through the whole thing on our own. If we ended up continuing to believe the church was true, then no harm would have been done. If we ended up losing our faith, then we wouldn't hurt anyone else in the process. (Going through a faith crisis is incredibly painful and I don't feel that I have the right to foist that upon anyone else. If someone is already in a faith crisis, I'll be happy to help them work through it---and I have no personal commitment to whatever the outcome of their faith crisis is. Everyone has to decide whether their life is better inside or outside of the church for themselves---and I'm not going to judge them either way.)

After we had concluded that we had officially lost our faith in Mormonism and were going to leave the church, we didn't want to scare our family by just suddenly leaving the church. Our faith crisis had happened over the course of a year and had involved long, intense moments of deep introspection. But to an outsider, it would appear as though we had made a very sudden and rash decision. We knew that would confuse and hurt our family members. And since they are very important to us, we wanted to gradually get them used to the idea that we might leave the church. We hoped this would subtly communicate that we had not made this decision in haste and that we had given the church a fair chance (notwithstanding the 30+ years of giving the church a fair chance prior to our faith crisis). Now that more than a year has passed since we first clued our parents into the situation, the time is ripening for our departure.

2. We wanted to build a social network outside of the church. One time when I was in the middle of my faith crisis, I took a look at the statistics of my social network using Facebook. At the time, 82% of my social network was LDS. And of the 50 or so individuals who comprised the other 18%, only 1 or 2 of those were very intimate, close relationships. (I plan to do a longer blog entry discussing the unique social network of Mormonism, so stay tuned!) This was a bit of a problem for me because that meant that if I were to suddenly leave the church, I would be jumping into a new world with almost no social support. I'm an introvert so I suppose it wouldn't have been that bad; nevertheless, it didn't seem very healthy to me. We wanted to make sure we had some good friends outside of the church before we left it completely. Nowadays, I'm happy to report that we have established some very good relationships with ex-Mormons and never-Mormons that are richer and more meaningful than our relationships with people inside the church. Again, the atmosphere for our departure is getting better.

3. We want our departure from our ward to be a quiet one. I must admit, I do see the appeal of this particular approach to leaving the church:

But setting aside the sheer coolness factor behind leaving the church in a noisy (and speedy) way, the "live out loud" approach advocated by John Larsen (and others) is just too costly for me.

We like our house and we don't want to move. Nearly all of our neighbors are members of the church and we don't want to burn any bridges with any of them. If we are seen as being full-blown apostates to our neighbors, we will begin to be treated differently by them because we'll be viewed as a threat. We won't be able to maintain our relationships of respect and trust with them. Our kids might not be allowed to form friendships with the other kids in our neighborhood. And worst of all: we'll lose all of our baby-sitters.

We think it's better to be viewed by our neighbors and ward members as inactive. If they want to conjecture that we stopped attending church because we were lazy or something, I'll be fine with that. I'll know in my heart that it isn't the truth and that's enough for me. I'm happy to sacrifice my control over my public reputation in order to maintain peace and good will with my neighbors. (Besides, I think it's silly to imagine that I ever had full control over the way I am perceived by others to begin with.)

4. I prefer to keep my religious beliefs private so that I don't hurt the people I love and so that I can keep myself from being hurt. I've come to find profound meaning in Robert Frost's poem "Mending Wall." The poem is about a pair of farmers who go about repairing the wall that marks the boundary between their property. The narrator of the poem says, "Something there is that doesn't love a wall." On one level, he thinks it is silly to build and maintain the walls that separate their farms---especially in places where the wall is unnecessary, such as in their orchards. I agree with the narrator's perspective. I think honesty (the removal of walls) is preferable. I wish we could all just be real with each other, that we could all live without facades. Then we could realize that we are all pretty normal human beings and that we're not so different from one another. We could work through our issues together and reach a mutually agreeable understanding about our differences.

Last weekend, I was talking with a non-traditional Mormon who had just discovered earlier that week that her younger brother hadn't believed in the church for nearly 4 years, but had kept it to himself the whole time. That's the cost of building walls: you can't help each other in moments of pain and dissonance because you're too busy hiding from one another.

But, at the same time, I see the wisdom behind the narrator's neighbor too. The narrator's neighbor simply states: "Good fences make good neighbors." He has a good point. I've been burned quite a bit by being honest with my parents about my faith crisis. We've had some intense exchanges that have resulted in tears and have caused week-long spells of deep depression for me. I've realized that I can't be fully honest with TBMs because it hurts both them and me in really painful, almost unbearable ways. I would love it if only they could understand me, but I think there is some futility in trying to force that understanding prematurely. I think that some day, when we're ready and our relationship is in the right place, I'll be able to be honest. I'll continue to hope and have patience for that day---and if it never comes, I'm resigned to that possibility. But for now, I'm building a few walls to keep both my family, friends and myself safe from pain. I've set some boundaries about what I will and will not share about my personal life. And that's because I want to minimize the collateral damage associated with my departure.

Right now I just focus on expressing myself in forums like this blog or on Mormon Expression or private Facebook groups. And that's good enough for me. I don't think it's unreasonable to keep some aspects of your life private from some of the people around you. That's how all healthy human relationships usually work: you wait to reveal intensely personal things about yourself until you have developed a certain level of intimacy and trust in your relationships. You can still maintain a healthy, casual relationship with people without telling your neighbors, or your co-workers, or your former college roommates everything about your personal religious beliefs.

5. It's hard to reset your life to zero all at once. It should be noted that up until 2 years ago, I had fully bought into Mormonism for most of my life. I sincerely believed in it. I kept all of its rules. I was heavily active in the church because I loved it. It was a very big part of my life.

When something is an integral part of your life, you can't just press the "erase" button and expect it all to go away without a hitch. It has taken quite a while to de-program Mormonism out of our lives. For example, we kept praying over our food long after we stopped believing in prayer because it was a life-long habit. Eventually, the only way we could get ourselves out of that habit was to replace it with a new habit: the Japanese ritual of saying "Itadakimasu" before eating. And that was something as silly as what to do before eating---let alone bigger issues like drinking and what not.

We started by dipping our toes in the waters of ex-Mormonism, and now we're taking gradually wading into the deep end as opposed to jumping head-first into the water all at once. We're getting experienced enough now to where we can probably get rid of the flotation device and start swimming on our own now.

6. I don't want to burn any bridges permanently. One thing that's important to keep in mind about my faith crisis is that it has resulted in being pretty comfortable with uncertainty. I've realized in a very profound way that it's possible for me to be wrong---dead wrong---about really important things. It's a very humbling experience. But I've come to feel okay with it because I've realized that I'm making the best decisions and reaching the most reasonable conclusions with all of the imperfect information that I currently have available to me. I believe it's important that I never keep myself from feeling too certain my current position is right because I've learned that my sense of certainty is almost always misplaced. I want to make sure that I'm always questioning myself and that I never stop searching for truth and more information. I'm comfortable with remaining flexible, with a willingness to update my perspectives in the future as more evidence becomes available. As the famous economist John Maynard Keynes once said when he was accused of hypocrisy: "When the facts change, I change my mind. What do you do, sir?"

Maybe things will change in the future as more information becomes available to me or as my life circumstances change. Maybe I'll move on to a Fowler Stage 5 and become one of those Mormon Stories/Mormon Matters people. Or maybe I won't. Either way, I want to be humble enough to give myself room to change my mind in the future. So, I don't want to burn my bridges with the church in the process.

***

At the end of the day, I've reached a place where I love myself and I love everyone else---no matter where they're at in their own personal faith journey or where they stand on the spectrum of Mormonism. I believe that everyone is making the right choices for themselves based on their own personal circumstances. I respect their right to decide the path for themselves in their own way and on their own timetable. I just hope that other people will extend me the same courtesy.

My Relief Society Teaching Philosphy

I figured that a little bit of an explanation was in order about my teaching philosophy when it comes to Relief Society. That might help explain how I structure my "TBM" lesson plans a little bit more.

Here's the general principles I follow as I'm preparing my lesson plan:
 
1. A good Relief Society lesson is one that is centered around having a thoughtful discussion. There needs to be a good balance between the material from the lesson manual, the teacher's unique insights, and comments from the sisters. But of those three elements, the comments from the sisters are the most important. For that reason, I believe my role as a Relief Society teacher is to be the facilitator of a good discussion. My job is to come up with open-ended, thought-provoking questions that will encourage the sisters to share their perspectives and personal experiences. I let the sisters teach the lesson for me. I intentionally plan to let the sisters their own insights for 1/3 or even 1/2 of the lesson. (FYI, I usually pull 3 quotes from the manual to use in my lesson.)

2. Every sister needs to feel validated. When I give out quotes for sisters to read, I write down who I gave it to and call on them by name when it's time to read. Not only does it help to avoid the confusion that occurs when someone forgets that they were assigned a quote, but it lets them know that you know their name. Also, when sisters are sharing a comment, I make sure I listen to them with full eye-contact the entire time. When their comment is done, I respond to what they have said by building on what they have said, talking about why I think their comment is good or responding to it in some way.

3. Good teachers are good readers/thinkers. You need to identify the "thesis" of the lesson (either from the manual itself or from your own studies into the topic) or some other organizing principle or objective for your lesson. Once you can see what the thesis is, it's then helpful to identify the supporting ideas in the lesson's "argument." Another way to rephrase that would be that you need to identify the most important ideas from the lesson. Then center your lesson around those key concepts, brainstorming the best possible ways to communicate those concepts and/or have a discussion about them. Usually, I make a concerted effort to make one of the concepts connect to Christ or the Atonement in some way (and I usually save that concept for the end of the lesson). It's an interesting intellectual challenge to connect the lessons to the Atonement and I find that any concepts that can connect to Christ usually turn into the biggest "wins" for the lesson---meaning that I can see that this section has had a noticeable impact on the sisters.

4. Incorporate quotes or stories from women. I used to strongly value sticking to the doctrine in the manual, meaning that I would discipline myself to stick to the manual for the bulk of the lesson. If I went outside of the confines of the lesson manual, I would restrict myself only to quotes by General Authorities or the standard works. I have very recently decided to soften that self-imposed restriction because I've realized that it reinforces patriarchal power structures. Because the majority of the General Authorities are male and because the scriptures are written from a male-centric point of view, it marginalizes female voices and perspectives. I'm planning on rectifying that in the future by including at least one quote or story from a woman in every lesson.


5. End the lesson on time. When you end a lesson late, you are forcing a woman's entire family to wait for her in the hall. I have a goal to always end 5 minutes before the hour. In order to make that happen, I build flexibility into my lesson. I plan for things I will cover if I have extra time and I plan for things I will cut out if I don't have the time.


6. A few cautions:

• Never begin the lesson with a self-deprecating remark (like talking about how you dreaded teaching today or how you're a bad teacher). It makes your audience lose respect for you.
• Never incorporate group work into the lesson. Although group work is really effective in other educational settings (I use it constantly in secular teaching environments), it's usually the opposite in church. I have some vague theories about why it's ineffective (e.g. I imagine it may have something to do with the hierarchical structure of the church government and church meetings), but at the end of the day I just know it doesn't work.
• Avoid controversy. It's a sad commentary on gender training, but if I were teaching Elder's Quorum, I wouldn't shy away from controversial questions or ideas as much as I do when I teach Relief Society. I just get the sense that women would rather have feel-good lessons that get those warm, fuzzy spiritual feelings going. They'd rather have a lesson that confirms and validates their preconceived beliefs about the gospel rather than lessons that challenge them or cause them to see things in a different light. I just get the feeling they find controversy far more threatening than men do. So I just don't go there. (Even though it would be cool.)
• I don't ever end my lessons with a testimony any more because it just feels disingenuous. So, I try to make one last point or read a quote by a General Authority or something as a kind of conclusion.

So, hopefully that will give you some sense of the underlying philosophy behind the teaching decisions I make when teaching for TBM audiences.

About Me and This Blog

I figured that I'd compose my inaugural blog entry in the style of one of the new Mormon.org profiles. Enjoy!

Hi, I'm Oxymormon Girl.

I don't actually believe in Mormonism. But I'm still a practicing Mormon. (That's why I'm "Oxymormon Girl." It's meant to be a play on words. An oxymoron is a contradiction.)

About Me

I am a 30-something who is married with two kids. I stay home with my kids in the day and teach college classes at night. I also lean left politically (and have since I was a teenager), which automatically makes me something of an outsider in Mormon culture. Much to Boyd K. Packer's chagrin, I'm a feminist, an intellectual, and I support gay rights. But I keep most of these sentiments closeted when I sit in the church pews because I'm not really one who likes to rock the boat.

Why I am a Mormon

Well, the simple answer to that question is that I've been a member of the church all of my life. My father's side of the family comes from pioneer stock. My mother converted from Catholicism when she was 19, despite strong opposition from her family. My parents were always devout, but perhaps not as strict as Mormon families traditionally are. 

I gained a strong testimony while reading the Book of Mormon when I was 14 and Mormonism became the defining aspect of my identity for most of my teenage and young adult life. I regularly had powerful spiritual experiences that confirmed the truth of the gospel to me. I went to BYU and, for the most part, enjoyed my experiences there--despite not fitting the typical profile of someone who would enjoy BYU.

I married "late" by Mormon standards (I was 25 and I knew my husband for four years before we were married!). We married in the temple and I'm happy to report that we have a very satisfying marriage. Motherhood has been much more of a challenge for me, but I still love my kids.

About a year ago (from the time of writing this post), I began to have serious doubts about the church. It started when my husband and I decided to make an honest effort to really study the Book of Mormon---not just from a spiritual perspective but from an academic perspective as well. (Mostly just to inject some life into what is an otherwise boring task.) As I studied the Book of Mormon, my husband and I suddenly began seeing all sorts of historical, intellectual, and moral problems in the book.

I decided at that moment to become a scholar of church history and Mormon studies. I wanted to study all the problematic elements of the church for myself so that I could resolve the issues that were troubling me. I made a conscious decision to avoid anti-Mormon literature, choosing instead to read materials that were only created by active members of the church with a scholarly background. 

At the time, I felt fully confident that the church would emerge victorious during the course of my studies and that my faith would be strengthened by wrestling with these problems for myself. I was wrong. While I was able to maintain my belief in the church for a while by adopting a Liahona Mormon perspective, my faith eventually crumbled under the weight of all the evidence against it.

For now, I'm still a practicing Mormon, even though I don't believe in it. For some people, it's difficult to understand why I (or others) would continue to belong to a religion that they don't believe in. It's a fair question, but difficult to answer in a way that would make sense. The simplest answer I could give for now is to say that I stay because Mormonism has been my whole world up to this point, and it's not that easy to just reset your life to zero and start all over from scratch. While I anticipate that my husband and I will leave the church in the distant future, for now we are taking that process very, very slowly.

How I live my faith

If you were to sit me down and give me a temple recommend interview, I could easily answer yes to the "do" questions. I attend all my church meetings, I keep the Word of Wisdom, I wear my garments. I pay tithes (begrudgingly). It's the "belief" questions that I have a hard time with.

In fact, for all of you naysayers out there who might feel that we left the church because we weren't keeping the commandments, I'll just say that my husband and I have been reading the Book of Mormon and the other scriptures every night. On top of that, I've been going to the temple every week for the last month. (My mom, freaking out about my confession that I no longer believe, made me promise to do this for six months.)

So, from all outward appearances, I'm just as Mormon as the next girl.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the purpose of this blog?

Well, I started this blog primarily because of my current church calling: 2nd Sunday Relief Society teacher. I've had this calling for a little less than 2 years now. And in full humility, I must tell you that I'm pretty good at it. (As in, I get teary-eyed thank yous from sisters about how much they appreciated my lesson after the lesson is over.) But even though I deliver my lessons from a straight, TBM (true believing Mormon) perspective, I find that I must almost always go through a crucible of personal integrity while I'm preparing my lessons. I find myself telling myself how much I disagree with the lesson manuals and questioning whether I really value the principles that are taught in the lesson.

So I wanted to explore that tension in this blog, the tension that I feel between what I really believe and what I ultimately say when I deliver these lessons. I'm going to devote a blog entry to each lesson that I have to teach from the Gospel Principles manual from here on out. I also plan on working retroactively as well, exploring lessons that I've already given and the thought processes that I went through while preparing the lesson.

What is your current attitude toward the church and its members?

Well, I didn't want to the church to be false. Honestly, it would make my life a whole lot easier (and perhaps even happier) if I could fully believe in it the way I used to. For that reason, I don't have any intentions to lead my fellow church members astray. No one should be compelled to take that spiritual/intellectual journey until they are genuinely ready to do so. Everyone has genuine reasons for believing what they believe and it is important to respect that--even when we disagree.

With that in mind, the purpose of this blog is not to deconvert anyone. Rather, this blog is intended to be read by those who are already skeptical of the church's truth claims. In other words, this is a blog intended for non-traditional Mormons, Liahona Mormons, New Order Mormons, Liberal Mormons, Ex-Mormons, or anyone else who is already sympathetic to those points of view.

Why have you decided to remain anonymous for now?
I'm not really sure what the reaction to this blog will be, so for now I will keep my real identity anonymous. I don't really have any fear of church discipline, but I want to remain in control of my official, public relationship with the church.

I prefer being honest about myself and my views and so I anticipate that one day I will write these blog entries with my normal identity.

Are you at all interested in adding additional authors to this blog?
I'm open to that possibility, but you would have to earn my trust and respect first. Contact me if you're interested and we'll do an interview of sorts.