"I don't think Joseph Smith was a prophet"
Tears that I had been holding back finally broke free as I said the words I never thought I would say. The fear, the anger, the betrayal. The emotions that countless people who have lost their faith had felt, were rushing through me. I collapsed to the floor as this great realization washed over me.
I had lost my faith.
It was gone.
I don't feel that it is important to share the events that led to my faith crisis, and honestly they are hard to explain. Like most people who leave the church, there were a number of issues that had piled up over the years. Items that were stacked on my shelf of concerns eventually became too much for the shelf to handle. It broke, and with it, my world shattered.
The grief was overwhelming. I had known nothing but Mormonism for my entire life, and the loss was the feeling of losing a loved one. An entire half of myself, a huge part of my identity... vanished.
My wife was kind and understanding. She had patiently waited for me to return from my mission, and at my request, had become baptized as a member of the church. Although she was never truly converted, she knew what the gospel meant to me. And for her love and support, I will always be grateful.
Time passed and I had slowly become more accustomed to no longer calling myself a Mormon. I had been through therapy, had gotten my anger out on some online forums, and felt that I was in a good place.
However, one day I was going through my storage unit when I came across my box of memorabilia from my mission. I don't really know why I kept it. I had thrown my garments away the summer before, and had thrown away all anything else related to the church as well. For whatever reason I still had this box. I opened it up to find my copy of Preach My Gospel, the Standard Works, some other odds and ends, and... a few copies of the pamphlets we used in discussions.
I stared for a moment at a copy of a booklet that taught the Plan of Salvation. I knew it well. I had taught that lesson countless times. But staring at it now, it felt foreign to me. I thumbed through the pages as the pit in my stomach grew. I recognized the pictures, I remembered all of the words. But they meant nothing to me.
I thought back to a time as a missionary when I had stumbled across a tract left behind by a Jehovah's Witness. I thumbed through those pages back then and felt the same nothingness that I felt now. The art that mattered to someone else, was just another painting of Jesus. The lessons that changed someone's life were just words on a page. For the first time since walking away I was faced with an uncomfortable reality.
I had lost my Mormon lens.
I could not see the church in the same way that I did as a member.
Now, I don't know why this little book triggered this thought. I had stood off to the side during Sunday dinners and watched while everyone bowed their heads to pray. I had attended baby blessings and spent time with Mormon friends despite no longer attending their ward. All of which required a mental disconnect to keep family and friend relationships going. But this? This was personal. This was me, standing alone in the back corner of a storage unit, face to face with a past I had walked away from.
I have thought often about this moment, and have acknowledged the feelings any time they arise. It breaks my heart to know that I am not alone in this feeling. Countless people lose their Mormon lens, their reality has changed, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.
Eventually I started posting on social media in an effort to make content that is relatable to those of us who leave. I enjoy it, and I am comforted in knowing that I am helping others come to terms with this new world view, even if some don't see it that way.
I've been thinking about the Mormon lens for a while now, and its in the back of my mind when I make my posts on Instagram. I try not to feel hurt when members of the church don't see things the same way that those who left do. Why would they? They still see the world from the eyes of a Mormon, I see it through the eyes as someone who walked away.
I have decided to take one more step in my journey outside the church. I am going to study the Book of Mormon one last time. From beginning to end. Not from the eyes of a believing member of the church, but as someone who now sees with a different perspective. I love the Book of Mormon, but I cannot make myself see it as the work of God.
I started this study a few weeks ago and feel strongly that I need to share my findings and my perspectives to the public sphere. I currently have finished my own analysis of the First Book of Nephi and feel confident in saying that it is nothing but a product of the time, and that Joseph Smith was a talented storyteller.
This brief post serves as an introduction of sorts to this project. As much as I want to jump right in, I will be sharing one or two additional posts leading up to the actual content of the Book of Mormon. It is important to me that I present the book in the literary sphere that I believe it exists in. Not as scripture, but as a historical fiction, brought about by the interests of Joseph Smith's time. That takes some time to explain and my message will be lost if I don't
It is my hope that I will be able to present a new perspective of the Book of Mormon in a way that can help those of you who may still be wondering how it was possible, and where the words came from. I may not have the answers to everything, but I am making every attempt to be thorough, yet honest in my thoughts and conclusions.
Its entirely possible that I will reach a dead end, and call it a loss. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
At this point I'm just rambling. So until next time, I bid you Adios
-Mason
- Next Post -
The idea that deconstruction begins with an openness to fresh perspective, a different lens.