The narratives we reviewed most often begin with some kind of misalignment between an individual’s private religious feelings and public religious practices or beliefs. At the end of the narratives, a deeper private relationship with Christ and Heavenly Father virtually always precedes a reconciliation with the organized body of believers.
by Eric d’Evegnée
Nephi and Jarom in the Book of Mormon both draw attention to the difference between the outward practice of the law of Moses and private spiritual experience. The Nephites were by and large successful in understanding how the outward public procedures of the law of Moses related to the coming of Christ and his new law that emphasized the private over the public. In Nephi 25:26 we have a well-known verse where Nephi bears his testimony about the centrality of Jesus Christ. Nephi says of him and his people that even though they keep the law of Moses, “we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ”. This testimony is also a pedagogical philosophy as well. Nephi knows that the law of Moses is meant to guide them to Christ, not supersede Him. Recognizing the complications of confusing the symbol with that for which it stands, Nephi says in the next verse that keeping in mind the purpose of the law of Moses will keep them from “harden[ing] their hearts against him when the law ought to be done away” (27). This verse describes the implication of what happens when the public rituals we most often perform cease to have personal meaning to us. This same pedagogical focus on the purpose of the law continues to the time of the book of Jarom where prophets, priests, and teachers taught the intent of the Law of Moses “persuading them to look forward unto the Messiah, and believe him to come as though he already was” (1,italics mine). Nephi and Jarom understood that the misalignment of means and ends could result in resentment when the means of the law of Moses were changed by the ends of Jesus Christ. This might help to explain why some followers of the Law of Moses were blind to and angry at Jesus’ fulfillment of the Law of Moses.
In these narratives of return, many writers reach a point where their public practices and private experiences were misaligned, which results in feeling pressed to mold their experience to a set of practices that they no longer feel give them the spirituality they expect. What’s remarkable is how each of their reconciliations end very similarly – not necessarily by a clean resolution of the original concern, but rather with an experience that brings to life again the centrality of their relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
The phrase “spiritual but not religious” highlights this tension between the unique spiritual experience of an individual and the institutional practices of faith that bring many individuals together to worship communally. The sentiment, labeled “SBNR” as it’s called, coincides with the late 20th century suspicion of institutions, and the sense that to some degree belonging to a religious institution co-opts the authenticity of belief. This phrase and its usage reveal the tension between the desire to practice one’s faith privately and how we practice that faith with others in public, especially with prescribed rules for that practice. Ideally, the outward communal practice supports the individual practice of faith by joining us together with other individuals making their own journey of faith, who we can both give support to and receive support from each other.
In these narratives of return, many writers reach a point where their public practices and private experiences are misaligned, which results in feeling pressed to mold their experience to a set of practices that they no longer feel give them the spirituality they expect. It may be best characterized by Olson’s comment, “I continued to go through the motions of activity long after they had ceased to bring me the joy and peace I had known in the gospel most of my life” (10). As reflected here, there’s a hollowness and a distance between the practices of the faith and the feeling of spirituality they expect to receive from it. There are lots of different reasons people give for why these feelings arise in the first place: wondering why the Lord requires temple marriage in order for people to stay together, problems with church history, feeling like they were unjustly treated by leaders, feeling like there was no place for their sexual orientation, etc. What’s remarkable is how each of their reconciliations end very similarly – not necessarily by a clean resolution of the original concern, but rather with an experience that brings to life again the centrality of their relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Additionally, there’s often also a realignment of public religious practice and church activity that’s more of an expression of a relationship with God rather than the other way around – with these practices being what defines the relationship. This renegotiation between the private and public is the result of sacrifice and a sincere trust in the Lord.
The External / Public Practice
In some narratives, the beginning of the stories emphasize outward religious practices as symbols of devotion. Tami Havey, when describing the spiritual strength of her family, said this, “We went to church every week. Never missed” (Havey 2). When looking for evidence of her family’s faithfulness, Havey uses attendance as the measure. Oviatt wrote “I was the young lady that attended every meeting—first to volunteer to give a talk or help with whatever was needed. I was referred to as ‘perfect,’ which is hard to live up to” (Oviatt 9). The evidence given of her “perfectness” is attendance, volunteering for talks, and helping. The focus is on what she does and what others can see that she does. Even her label as “perfect” is given to her by the people around her, reflected in the use of the passive voice, “I was referred to as ‘perfect.'”
“There was always a sense of spirituality, but I never really related it to the Church or to Church activity…I always loved the gospel and always had a love of my Savior, but there came a point where I felt like I had to choose and the gospel and the Church were so intertwined that if I was choosing out of one, I was choosing out of all of it.” . . . For her, it wasn’t clear how to distinguish between the decorative and the load bearing. They were so intertwined that she just figured she just had to turn away from all of it herself.
For others, they feel like the demands of callings, expectations of members to serve, and be good parents only strained the relationship between their public and private worship. Havey when she leaves the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints says, “I was free from what I thought were strict rules and people telling me what I could and couldn’t do” (Havey 8). For Cook, the familial expectations were influential. The effect of these expectations from her father were significant in her trajectory in relation to the church because her father’s expectations gets connected indirectly to the Church’s expectations for a young woman:
“When I was in high school I announced to my family that I wanted to study at Oxford University one day. My father pulled me aside and said, ‘People like us don’t do things like that.’ So that was kind of engrained in me. It was also engrained in me that all of my sisters and friends had gotten married very young and were having children and were doing what they had been commanded to do and they had been doing what’s right. And following that expectation, the boys were going on missions and coming home and getting married and then going to college. And the girls were starting college and getting married, and then dropping out of college to have babies” (17).
Allyson connects her sense of being commanded by the “prophets” with having expectations placed upon her related to what she sees or perceives other members “doing:” “I think there are a lot of expectations in the church because we receive a lot of commandments from our prophets today–lots of revelation. So, for me, I felt like I was obligated to do some of these things because that’s what people were doing in the church” (37). Sutton’s comments about feeling exhausted emphasize the internalization of certain expectations:
“One day I came home from church, kicked off my heels, plopped down in the chair in my office, and decided I was done. I was done with squirming through Gospel Doctrine classes. I was done with adding my painfully-earned insight to every Relief Society discussion. I was done dragging myself around after third-hour to collect sign-up sheets, done spending hours setting up and cleaning up enrichment activities, and done feeling burned-out and misguided. I was done ending my Sunday evening even more spiritually drained than when I’d started. I was done wondering what business I had even being there in the first place. I was done trying to make up for my mistakes. I was done being a hypocrite” (Sutton 31).
In this passage, she brings up a lot of the external expectations of church worship like contributing to lessons, collecting sign-up sheets, setting up rooms, etc., but her comment at the end that she “was done trying to make up for my mistakes” is a fascinating one, indicating that her actions were for that purpose. I’m not sure that she intended that sentence to be a statement of purpose for the activities she lists, but the fact that it is included suggests that she sees, at least in part, her worship as a kind of penance.
Winegar and Shorr’s fatigue with church activity added to a sense of alienation at church: “Church meetings were drudgery. Dragging myself to fulfill my calling was even worse. I was completely checked out. I felt tired, hurt, worried, angry, and worst of all, I felt like no one in the Church understood me” (Winegar 32). Shorr adds about her calling,
“I had a calling in the Nursery, and I remember sitting in the Nursery and thinking about all of the things I didn’t like about the Church and that most of those things revolved around service. I liked reading the scriptures, I liked going to the meetings, but I didn’t like callings or visiting teaching or anything service. Service is what makes you grow, but I didn’t like it at the time because I was extremely busy. I was alone and raising a daughter and getting a master’s degree and working and trying to keep my finances going. Church service was just one more thing to worry about. Additionally, there wasn’t a lot of support for divorced women in the Church that I could see. Even my visiting teachers were nervous to come visit me. They didn’t know what to say to me” (18).
For Winegar and Shorr the social aspect of public worship reinforces a sense of alienation from others.
Kathleen Flake compares the sense of being a part of the Church of Jesus Christ to the difference between real pillars of testimony and those that are merely decorative. The decorative pillars are peripheral ones that surround the Church. Flake makes the point that these pillars were about her “facility in the Mormon culture” (11). The cultural stuff that surrounds religious ritual:
“All of this is a pillar of sorts. It has the look of a pillar. It adds line and image to who I am. It gives me an identity, even credibility, regardless of any interior resources. To the uninitiated, five generations of Mormon progenitors and forty years of experience in the culture, including a two-year mission and BYU education, can even seem to be the cause rather than the effect of my Mormonism. In my experience, however, these cultural experiences and social graces cannot serve the function, though they may ape the form, of a pillar. None of these things are of real help to me when I have to decide the hard questions; such as, whether to support the Equal Rights Amendment or how to support the bishop who doesn’t want me to support it. And, when a desirable man offers me his bed, it’s not memories of the wonderful conversations in front of the dry goods store that informs my decision. These decorative pillars seem to crumble very easily under stress.” (11)
Flake’s excellent analogy fits so well with the other narratives. There are two difficulties that Flake articulates. One is the sifting between decorative and load bearing pillars. Which ritualistic practices are essential points of religious lived faith and which are merely cultural. Secondly, what happens when one of those pillars doesn’t feel strong enough to bear the weight of a serious challenge, like Flake’s Bishop asking her not to support the ERA or issues of race in church history, women’s issues, etc.
In other narratives, it’s clear the sifting between decorative and load bearing pillars, using Flake’s metaphor, is what preceded their leaving the church. For both Pons and Anonymous (8) their leaving the church comes from their practice in the church not bringing what they expected. For Pons, her experience as a member of the Restored Gospel isn’t bringing her the happiness she hoped it would: “I thought that I should be happy by being a member of the Church; however, I was not happy and not satisfied at all”(Pons 21). Anonymous (8) underscores the effects of how others’ actions influenced her sense of what should be the fruits of membership in the Church of Jesus Christ: “I left the Church due to an unhappy marriage and divorce and certain people in the local Church leadership. I never lost my testimony of God or Jesus Christ, just distrust in the Church”. Burkinshaw’s account evinces the seriousness of the difficulty of trying to find a place for her as a lesbian in the Restored Gospel: “There was always a sense of spirituality, but I never really related it to the Church or to Church activity…I always loved the gospel and always had a love of my Savior, but there came a point where I felt like I had to choose and the gospel and the Church were so intertwined that if I was choosing out of one, I was choosing out of all of it” (Burkinshaw 7). For her, it wasn’t clear how to distinguish between the decorative and the load bearing. They were so intertwined that she just figured she just had to turn away from all of it herself.
In these stories, many of them have a focus on a more personal relationship to Christ and Heavenly Father which, in turn, transforms the relationship with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
A Turning Point
One of the most interesting parts of reading narratives of leaving and then returning to the Church is figuring out how and where do the narrative trajectories change. What causes one who has gone through great spiritual and emotional pain to leave and then decide to come back? In these stories, many of them have a focus on a more personal relationship to Christ and Heavenly Father which, in turn, transforms the relationship with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In this kind of spiritual reconstruction the Church and the public ritual becomes an outgrowth of the personal relationship with Christ and Heavenly Father which smooths the feeling of misalignment with the Church so present in many of the expositions of these narratives.
Many of these turning points focus on a personal relationship with God and Jesus Christ. Notice the emphasis in the following passages on deity and love and the private, internal feelings of spirituality (italics added):
“Going through the repentance process I came to understand my Savior Jesus Christ’s Atonement. My faith grew and grew. My testimony of a living Heavenly Father and Savior, the First Vision, tithing, was growing; sometimes it felt like my heart would burst open it was so full” (Oviatt 9).
“That night I was given a clear vision of the crossroads I was standing at. I could retreat, or I could wait on the Lord…The image of Christ as the vine struck me powerfully as I realized that a vine was a perfect metaphor for the change I felt was happening in my own faith” (Olson 10).
“At that same time, there was a temple open house that my mother invited me to. Inside the temple, I felt the Lord’s love for me. The Holy Spirit I was given when I was eight began to grow” (Woerner 14).
I slowly incorporated reading the scriptures, starting with the New Testament because I felt like I needed to get to know my Savior more. I began to pray more to Heavenly Father as opposed to just mediating or chanting” (Richerson 20).
“At that very moment, I remembered clearly her advice and I knelt down and prayed. I had a special feeling; I felt as if someone patted me on the shoulder and said, ‘Everything will be alright. Don’t worry.’ I felt peace inside my heart and this calm and peaceful feeling swept my sadness away” (Pon 21).
“When I prayed that night in April, I knew what it was. I needed a relationship with my Heavenly Father” (Kelly 35).
“[F]or some reason the Lord decided that that time and that weird situation the back of the car was a time for him to say ‘Hey, I’m here!’ and I had a sacred experience where I just felt so much love and so much light and so much spirit that I couldn’t …..and it was my anchor point. It was like ‘hey I’m here. I’m here, but there’s no more. You don’t have to guess anymore. I’m here’” (Anderson 38).
“Delaney and I were speechless. I was filled with the spirit and was in tears. My heart was filled with God’s love for me. What I then felt in my mind and heart was: [¶] ‘Jonathan, I’m proud of you and want you to know you are on the right track and making a difference in the lives of my children. Keep going. But Jonathan, I want to be a part of your life and this journey with you. Let me be a part of it. You don’t have to do this alone’” (Rogers 33).
This step from the personal to the public ritual seems in so many of these narratives essential to the sense of reconciliation with the religious institution and the realignment between the public and the private. . . Therefore, their new public worship results from their private worship of God rather than having the public worship define that relationship.
The Return: Combining Both External and Internal Practice
As we’ve seen above, the return to public religious behavior is most often preceded by a private religious experience with the Godhead–usually involving a sense of love from Heavenly Father or Jesus Christ and attended by the Holy Ghost. These steps are important. And it’s interesting to note that the return to public ritual in the Church comes after this kind of personal experience. This step from the personal to the public ritual seems in so many of these narratives essential to the sense of reconciliation with the religious institution and the realignment between the public and the private. The reconciliation also seems to be an outgrowth of the same primary source, which is the singular private experience with God.
Letitia makes the causality clear for her as she describes what she needed to help her go back to church activity: “I needed my Heavenly Father. I needed my Savior, and I can tell you that I felt Him with me every step of the way; giving me strength and courage, and I thought, ‘You know, things are going to turn out quite differently.’ So, that made me walk through the door” (39). That feeling of having the love and support of God is what propels her into the public practice of worship again. The following examples follow the same directionality; although, the reasons they feel compelled to public worship are unstated:
“I was going through my own understanding of the Savior’s love for me. The closer I came to the realization of Jesus as my Savior, the more aware I became I needed religion” (Bodily 15).
“What I’m calling ‘God’ instantly filled my whole consciousness. My emotions were heightened with a sensation of bliss. My thoughts were crystal clear. Two clear messages pressed on my mind: 1. I am God. I am real. And I love you. 2. It’s time to go back to church” (Tippetts 34).
“Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, The Gospel, the Church, and my faith are sources of incredible joy” (Novac 13).
Richerson and Allyson both mention temple work specifically as being a part of their current public religious practice. Richerson adds how because of changes in her life she can help her ancestors, “The Lord has also changed me physically and mentally to be able to do this. I can go to the temple now. I can go to the temple and do the work for my ancestors, which is just such an amazing blessing and get help from the other side” (Richerson 20). For Allyson, the public worship in the temple has fused with the private experience of drawing “closer to Heavenly Father”:
“Coming closer to Christ. The temple wasn’t just one of those things that I was curious about anymore. You know when you go through the first time– “What’s actually in there?”. Now, I go there to feel closer to Heavenly Father and to help my ancestors and that sort of thing. That’s kind of how it shifted for me” (Allyson 37).
For others, they acknowledge the difficulty of reconciling with the people and practices of a faith community. Individuals in these narratives are open-eyed, fully aware of some of the difficulties that led to the split between member and church, which highlights the faith of those coming back and also the tension between spiritual identity and one’s place within a religious community that doesn’t always fit with one’s expectations. Like many of the narratives we’ve been examining, Olson’s narrative notes the primacy of the personal experience, but admits, although in an undefined binary way, the tension she continues to grapple with between spiritual identity and the weight of a religious institution: “I have learned that the most important thing to cling to on this journey is my relationship with God, not an organization” (10). Richerson echoes a similar sentiment: “Just find out who you are in the Lord and make your space in the Church” (Richerson 20). After having felt the need to “get back to church,” (Tippetts 34). Tippetts articulates how he manages the reconciliation between the institution and his private faith: “I see these men as trying to point us to God. God is the real relationship that matters. I may or may not enjoy a personality or a teaching style of a leader. But today, I was reminded that God can speak to me through them” (Tippetts 34). Flake too recognizes how the Church is the means by which she can achieve the spiritual end she desires, but while still acknowledging that reconciliation can be challenging, “if I truly wanted to know God the Mother and be called her daughter, I would have to conform myself to the law of the gospel and make peace with her Son’s church. I bowed to this necessity and in doing so found the pillar to my faith” (11). Ultimately, she sees this “making peace” as a new pillar, a load bearing pillar that can carry the load of the tension between private and public religious practice.
This reconciliation is most evident at the end of most of these narratives when the focus of the story is not on public practice but on a personal relationship with deity:
“Jesus asking His disciples “Will ye also leave?” And their response is “To whom shall we go?” And that’s the truth, for me. The only option, the only place that I have to go is to the Savior and to our Father in Heaven, because He knows. He knows me, and He knows what I need to be the person that I want to be, and that He knows that I can be” (Burkinshaw 7, italics mine).
“I know Heavenly Father and Jesus love me, Janice Esplin Oviatt” (Oviatt 9).
“I want people to know that God loves us, and He is intricately and acutely aware of us. He knows us. He waits for us. He doesn’t give up on us even when we give up on Him” (Smith 3).
“I had hoped for a restoration of my faith, but what I was given was much better. It was a new heart, a new hope, a new faith” (Olson 10).
“I think a lot of it had to do with ridding myself of anger and embracing the Atonement and recognizing that the Atonement is not just about overcoming sin. It’s about believing that the Lord’s going to take care of things. That all is fair and just and I don’t need to hang onto the anger, because the Lord’s going to take care of it” (Cook 17).
“The Lord is so merciful and forgiving” (Holmes 19).
“I feel like I’ve been blessed to be at such peace about this. I have this incredible relationship with the Lord and with the Spirit. I’m just so peaceful. Peaceful! Joyful!” (Richerson 20).
“When I read the scriptures, I’m given revelation on what the Lord wants me to do. I am given the courage and the confidence and the strength to live my life.
“And I was there because, through Him, I still could be” (Sutton 31).
“I’d like to share my witness that our loving Father in Heaven allows us to experience difficult things” (Winegar 32).
“But one thing I can and always will testify of is that Christ lives and does heal. He needs to be our foundation first and foremost. All other principles are supportive to His love and His Atonement. If we can deeply root ourselves in Christ, all other questions and doubts will eventually fall into place” (Anon 6).
These narratives reflect some of the very same tensions between public and private worship that Nephi and Jarom write about in the Book of Mormon. While the narratives begin by focusing on some kind of moral, intellectual or social problem, they end with an emphasis on a personal relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Therefore, their new public worship results from their private worship of God rather than having the public worship define that relationship. They go to church in many of these instances because that’s a part of this individual relationship they have with him.
The analysis of the external and internal highlights the importance of making sure we evaluate our intention when we worship. How we are worshiping privately can serve as an indicator or litmus test for all of us about where and why we do what we do publicly. One of the lessons from analyzing this part of the narrative is reflecting on our own intent for what we do publicly. These reflections can help us clarify how aligned are the internal and external parts of what we do.
