Re: Spiritual but not religious (or not)
Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 2:30 am
I'm more religious but (not very) spiritual. I've attended other Christian denominations, but they seemed to have the same doctrinal problems with a less welcoming/fun atmosphere.
When I was totally inactive, I was neither religious nor spiritual.
I feel like Mormonism is my ethnicity as much as someone doesn't stop being a Jew just because they don't observe Shabbos. I'd even consider my gay great-uncle who's been all but married to a man for four decades as a Mormon of some sort, even if that is ex-Mormon.
I think Mormonism is pretty welcoming to people who don't really believe, or only partly believe, but still show up. Mormonism is sometimes pretty booster clubby but I see that neither as a problem nor surprising. From my notes from Church today:
"is my life better with 'the Gospel'? outside the 'club' aspect?
sense of belonging - 'part of something'"
My current reasons for activity might be viewed as sort of a reverse Pascal wager: I think that God probably does not exist, at least in the sense that most Mormons view him, but if being part of the Mormon community makes me happier than not being does, why not?
When I first heard about a life-changing familial crisis, I didn't know what to do. I was already feeling very much alone, depressed, cut off from social ties, and definitely being a poster child for many of the things Dallin H. Oaks thinks one ought not to do.
Interestingly, in one of those serendipitous moments of life, I was at my apartment complex's hot tub, and talked with two high school girls about their dreams, their college apps, and my situation and my indecision. There was a Christian girl, who said in that earnest way churchgoing types have, that clearly this was a time I needed to be with my family, and move back home. And she was right, and I did.
So I felt less like a non-Mormon than a dormant Mormon, that the person I was meant to be might not be the freshman Cougar bride I fought so much against (psh, like any guy wouldn't have figured that out in, like, 2 days), but that it wasn't this desensitized angry atheist hermit, either.
So I don't know what I want to teach my own children, down the line. My S.O. and I both have a pretty strong desire for a "happy Mormon family," although we're not very good Mormons. This is abundantly clear to me on his end, because he is closer to his family than any 25-year-old I know; he visits them, he talks with all of them, he has a very real desire for their approval. And he has a fairly "typical" (though by no means uninteresting) family with a Bishop father, returned missionary brother, etc. I really want my children to be responsible, kind, and maybe a little bit sheltered: I look at the kids I work with here in Utah and their innocence is charming. To me, being a Mormon is less about one-up-manship on the refreshments committee or what you declare in tithing settlement, and more about knowing who you are, where you come from, and what your future means to you.
In an ideal world, I could be simply a very liberalized Mormon: one who doesn't take the literal truthiness of the Book of Mormon evangelically, one who would rather read novels than attend temple sessions, one who can bleed BYU blue but still hate the HCO. But in reality, in a grown-up world, I don't know if this is sustainable. If I had an eleven-year-old daughter, and she asked me why her brother could serve the sacrament and she couldn't, I'd have no good answer. If someone asked me to give a talk on . . . on a lot of things that aren't covered in the 13th Article of Faith, I might be at a loss. But I don't feel like saying that I'm not sure about things means I need to have an ugly divorce.
I agree that in Mormonism, overcoming "even one shred of dooooubt" as the song puts it is an important experience. But I'd wager that unlike many other Christian denominations, there's not one "born again" moment that you can live on and expect that to work. Even the words we use (again, from "I Believe"): "I allowed my faith to be shaken," "time to set my worries free," "have no fear," seem to imply that there is a lot of worrying, fear, and faith-shaking in the Mormon experience. In fact, that might be THE definitive Mormon experience. I feel like whatever Godly being there is knows that and knows it doesn't make a whole damned lot of sense, but that overcoming trials (trails? thank you TAMN) is what actually makes your conviction stronger. I guess that I feel the Church is reform-able, and that the things that really, really matter to me align well with the Church's goals.
When I was totally inactive, I was neither religious nor spiritual.
I feel like Mormonism is my ethnicity as much as someone doesn't stop being a Jew just because they don't observe Shabbos. I'd even consider my gay great-uncle who's been all but married to a man for four decades as a Mormon of some sort, even if that is ex-Mormon.
I think Mormonism is pretty welcoming to people who don't really believe, or only partly believe, but still show up. Mormonism is sometimes pretty booster clubby but I see that neither as a problem nor surprising. From my notes from Church today:
"is my life better with 'the Gospel'? outside the 'club' aspect?
sense of belonging - 'part of something'"
My current reasons for activity might be viewed as sort of a reverse Pascal wager: I think that God probably does not exist, at least in the sense that most Mormons view him, but if being part of the Mormon community makes me happier than not being does, why not?
When I first heard about a life-changing familial crisis, I didn't know what to do. I was already feeling very much alone, depressed, cut off from social ties, and definitely being a poster child for many of the things Dallin H. Oaks thinks one ought not to do.
Interestingly, in one of those serendipitous moments of life, I was at my apartment complex's hot tub, and talked with two high school girls about their dreams, their college apps, and my situation and my indecision. There was a Christian girl, who said in that earnest way churchgoing types have, that clearly this was a time I needed to be with my family, and move back home. And she was right, and I did.
So I felt less like a non-Mormon than a dormant Mormon, that the person I was meant to be might not be the freshman Cougar bride I fought so much against (psh, like any guy wouldn't have figured that out in, like, 2 days), but that it wasn't this desensitized angry atheist hermit, either.
So I don't know what I want to teach my own children, down the line. My S.O. and I both have a pretty strong desire for a "happy Mormon family," although we're not very good Mormons. This is abundantly clear to me on his end, because he is closer to his family than any 25-year-old I know; he visits them, he talks with all of them, he has a very real desire for their approval. And he has a fairly "typical" (though by no means uninteresting) family with a Bishop father, returned missionary brother, etc. I really want my children to be responsible, kind, and maybe a little bit sheltered: I look at the kids I work with here in Utah and their innocence is charming. To me, being a Mormon is less about one-up-manship on the refreshments committee or what you declare in tithing settlement, and more about knowing who you are, where you come from, and what your future means to you.
In an ideal world, I could be simply a very liberalized Mormon: one who doesn't take the literal truthiness of the Book of Mormon evangelically, one who would rather read novels than attend temple sessions, one who can bleed BYU blue but still hate the HCO. But in reality, in a grown-up world, I don't know if this is sustainable. If I had an eleven-year-old daughter, and she asked me why her brother could serve the sacrament and she couldn't, I'd have no good answer. If someone asked me to give a talk on . . . on a lot of things that aren't covered in the 13th Article of Faith, I might be at a loss. But I don't feel like saying that I'm not sure about things means I need to have an ugly divorce.
I agree that in Mormonism, overcoming "even one shred of dooooubt" as the song puts it is an important experience. But I'd wager that unlike many other Christian denominations, there's not one "born again" moment that you can live on and expect that to work. Even the words we use (again, from "I Believe"): "I allowed my faith to be shaken," "time to set my worries free," "have no fear," seem to imply that there is a lot of worrying, fear, and faith-shaking in the Mormon experience. In fact, that might be THE definitive Mormon experience. I feel like whatever Godly being there is knows that and knows it doesn't make a whole damned lot of sense, but that overcoming trials (trails? thank you TAMN) is what actually makes your conviction stronger. I guess that I feel the Church is reform-able, and that the things that really, really matter to me align well with the Church's goals.