What is there to lose?

I have a wonderful mother. She's as much of a friend as she is a parent, and she does pretty well at both. When in comes down to it, my whole family is a good family. Sure, my dad gets over protective, but I'm his oldest child and only daughter, its kinda a given. Sure, my brother can be annoying, but his a little brother, what else do I expect? I was always so happy to know that I'd be with them in eternity, when I was Mormon.

I think one of the most painful things said to me when I left the church was my mom's question: "You know we're going to lose you for eternity if you leave, right?"

My mom has said a few times that she's got nothing to lose by staying in the LDS Church. And I know that she feels that if she left, she might lose everything she holds dear in this world: her family.

I often wish, so badly, that I could just take her hand, look her in the eye, and say, "Mom, do you really believe God is so cruel that he would separate a loving family just because they didn't belong to a specific religion?"

And what would she have to lose then, if she understood that? If she understood that a loving God won't separate a family like that? He judges on your heart, not your religion, after all. But eternal, inseparable family is a huge draw in the Mormon church, and people will close their mind to so many things just so they won't lose that promise.

But how could God say he is love if he separates those who love each other with some of the deepest bonds known on earth? I don't want to believe in that God, but I had to when I was Mormon, because that's what we were told: if your family isn't sealed to you, if your husband and children aren't sealed to you, you won't have them in heaven. It puts an individual under immense pressure to do everything right to be good enough for that God in order to get where they want to be: there's no grace in that. Grace is a gift, after all, not wages for work done.

I wish so badly I could show her how much she really is losing in that religion. All the falsehoods and twisted teachings aside, where is Christ? Where is salvation in him? Over a few months at church, how many lessons do you get on Christ? How thoroughly is he mentioned? If you're not learning the New Testament (and perhaps even if you are) its probably a lot less than you realized, once you pay attention. How can you be Christian if you barely learn of Christ?

You are losing Christ.

I thought, for the longest time, that if I left the religion, I'd be losing so much: prophets, revelations from leaders, scriptures and teachings beyond what others have. When I realized it was all false, that it was all just the falsehoods of a man seeking power, it was so easy to let go. It really only needed one false prophecy to show me that man was a false prophet: I found several.

And what did I gain shortly after leaving? I gained Christ! And more than that, I gained the love and peace of knowing God was always going to be in my heart. I realized that all everything was, all every Christian teaching ever has been, is love. God, Christ, any decent faith in the world, is about love and striving to be a better person in love.

I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me...

You lose nothing.

I wish I could say that to my mom, to my whole family, and truly be heard.

Angels

I don't remember much from my last Sunday attending the Mormon church. I'd already decided to leave--I think it was the night before that I'd found the things that made me say "I can't belong to this church."

I do remember sitting in Sacrament meeting beside my fiance, now husband, with our shared knowledge that we sat in a church that was anything but the only true church, and opened up to the Bible Dictionary in my quad, and I looked up what it said about angels.

I've done little research about angels in the Christian understanding, but I knew, reading that, that it was not right. My husband found what it said absolutely ridiculous. We sat there in that little shared bubble of disbelief, basically ignoring the speakers.

Angels are important to me for a big reason, and yet they're such a small part of everything I've come to learn about.

I'd been on my path to leaving the church for a long time, though I hadn't even realized it for most of it and denied it for a while longer when it became more obvious there at the end, during the big arguments over godhood with my husband. My all-important prayer to try to bring my husband back into the church seemed to be missing something. Or rather, I knew I wasn't understanding part of the answer. Really, what God was saying to me was simple. "Yes, you can try to bring him back, and I'll use your attempt to show you that you are meant to be with him. But, when you've made that decision, I'm going to lead you out of the church." I just wasn't hearing the last part.

Then, late at night, talking on the phone with him, I don't even remember what about now, much of the same I think, my fiance said something that stopped my heart and changed everything. He mentioned angels.

The seed for this had been planted months before. I'd gone to church with a non-Mormon friend, and she started talking about angels. I didn't know a lot of what she was talking about, and she was surprised. I thought then that it would be interesting to learn more about angels and the differences between Christianity and Mormonism in the view of angels, but for some reason never did. But...I knew there was a difference, and I knew I didn't know why.

So when Steven made that simple comment, the specifics of which I don't even remember now, I realized I wanted to learn more about the differences. And right then, I decided to start my research.

Perhaps we have guardian angels, after all.

Title of the Blog

I don't think I've yet talked about the title of my blog--because that is definitely how I feel about leaving Mormonism: I escaped godhood.

Why do I feel this way about that teaching? Why is escaping godhood such a relief to me?

Well, for one, its such a prideful teaching. It brings deity down to our level. Even the Greeks, Romans, and similar societies with many gods never brought their gods down to the level of ever having been a mere man. Even Egyptians believed their pharaohs to be more than just men from birth, as far as I know. It is prideful to think that we can become divine to the point of being all-powerful, all-knowing, and forever perfect.

I remember when I was still Mormon wondering if the reason we don't use most of our brains is because that's what makes us gods. Its kind of like how sci-fi shows say that aliens can communicate telepathically or use other higher brain functions because they use more of their brains than we do. Because of the way I had been taught, I reduced God's omniscience, omnipotence, and all his greatness down to brain capacity.

Aside from the pride and lackluster of an imperfect man turned perfect god (in which case he was once not perfect, and in theory is capable of being imperfect again), I don't like the role it put me into.

My role as a woman? I would marry a priesthood holder and be sealed to him, have no power in God's name on earth except to provide bodies for more spirits, die, hopefully go to the Celestial Kingdom, eventually become a goddess...and make lots of spirit babies as my husband created a world for them by arranging matter into a planet, and then watch in unacknowledged silence as my children suffered and struggled through the world, knowing only a portion of them would ever come back to me, and that many would never know me in that life, because my husband and his prophets thought it "inappropriate to pray to the Heavenly Mother," (to quote Gordon B. Hinckley).

It sounds rather more like sexual slavery, or perhaps motherhood slavery, rather than goddess-hood. I wouldn't even get my own world, I'd get my husband's. Assuming he was good enough to become a god. If he wasn't, what then? Would I be assigned to some other man as one of his wives? Would I be forever doomed to live without having spirit children, languishing in one place for all of eternity as everyone else moved on?

And where does it all end? Where does it all begin? Having a birth, a beginning of being, implies a beginning and an end. At least a beginning, somewhere...yet Mormons never talk about a first God, or where he might have come from...the implication is often that its just a big continuous circle of eternity, but how could that be? Marriage is a forever commitment, at least to people who actually choose to commit, and it certainly is in Mormonism, yet there's a beginning to that, even if there's no end. Would a continuous line of gods and their wives not be different?

It is far easier to accept a single, truly eternal God with no beginning nor end--time never was until humans were, because we live lives that have a beginning. Is that necessarily in our comprehension? No. We're humans. We don't even use our whole brain capacity. But it makes a lot more sense than the Mormon view. And as a female, its a whole lot more fair to not be subject to my husband when it comes to my salvation and "exaltation" (which I no longer believe in)--my salvation should be between me and God alone, and should not rely on anyone else. If I went through my life alone with just a Bible, I'd be able to get to Christ. But in the Mormon religion, I wouldn't be able to become a Goddess.

And yet another reason is the arduous and often way too controlling requirements of attaining godhood. If you don't do A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J,and K, and probably L, M, and N too, you won't get there. And since your a sinner and can't do A-N perfectly all the time, you have to just hope you repented well enough each time you slipped up so that you'll still be good enough when you die. Whereas in Christianity all you have to do is have faith. When you have faith, when you believe in something good, when you strive for goodness because of your faith, you have done enough. And the faith is the key. All the other things will fall into place because of the path of goodness you have chosen through faith. And right there, you've gotten everything you can ever hope to receive as an imperfect human--faith, grace, peace, and the promise of something better.

Baptism

Before anything else, I want to establish that I do believe that baptism is a commandment in the Bible, and therefore should not be left out for one who is turning/has turned to Christ and wishes to be obedient to the commandments, as someone with real faith does.

I was shocked today when I found out that my sister-in-law (whose amazing: love you Brandi) had never connected baptism with repentance. Having grown up Mormon that was one of the biggest connections made with baptism. Baptism=washing away of sins.

Now, after a bit of study and my new perspective on things, I see baptism as not a requirement for salvation (as Mormons take it because of John 3:5), but rather as the physical symbol of the spiritual baptism, which is the only way to enter the kingdom of God. That's the big difference. Spiritual baptism comes when a person is first saved by faith. Physical baptism is a representation of this: we go through water (as in physical birth) to show a rebirth. But the actual baptism that saves is of the Spirit.

I wouldn't claim to be an expert on this, but I've learned to follow a general rule, which is that if there are many verses that say one thing (e.g. salvation is only through faith) and one verse that says something potentially contradictory (e.g. salvation comes through baptism) then the contradictory interpretation of the single verse is probably incorrect. So in this instance, the non-contradictory interpretation is that the baptism that saves is that of the spirit. The spirit is mentioned in the all-important John 3:5.

John 3
5Jesus answered, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.

Some of the next verses are interesting, though.

6"That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7"Do not marvel that I said to you, 'You must be born again.' 8"The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit."

However, physical baptism being required for salvation or not, the relationship with repentance was made so clear to me throughout my childhood. And even now, no longer being Mormon, the relationship is undeniable. When we are saved, we turn from our non-Christian ways and strive for goodness and obedience and self-betterment. Or at least that's what happens ideally: we all get stuck along the way. We're only human. No matter what, though, baptism is a rebirth. And what are we being reborn from? A fallen state. We, as humans, will always be cursed by the fall of Adam. Once we are saved, though, we have found the source of redemption--the cleansing of sins through faith. And this is what baptism represents. This is why I want to get re-baptized as a Christian. I want to show God, through obedience to this commandment, through the ritual washing away of sins, that I have truly come to him in spirit.

The First Visit (& Thoughts on Missions)

Just a few days ago, my husband and I got a knock on our door. An elder missionary couple, serving the church in their retirement, was standing there with smiles and the hope that we wouldn't slam the door in their faces. Being civilized and not having a problem with the people in the church, we not only didn't slam the door, we invited them in.

What somewhat bothered me off the bat was when they were walking in, looked at Steven, and asked if his last name was Grenier. Not our last name. And they were looking for "a guy by the last name of Grenier who was living with his girlfriend."

I was very pleased to tell them that we were not only married, but had been for six months. I didn't tell them that we'd never lived together as just boyfriend and girlfriend. We were already engaged. Its still not technically marriage, but we were committed to each other for life already.

Then they asked him how long he'd been a member, and were all pleased to hear that he was a fairly new member, and then the man looked at me and asked, "and did you know he was Mormon when you two got married? How'd you feel about that?"

"I was born Mormon," I informed him.

They were floored. And so was I. My records were in the local ward, I knew my bishop from my parents' town had transferred them as well as Steven's. Yet they had no idea that I was still technically Mormon as far as my records existing in the church, and had been such since birth.

They of course asked us if we were attending church, and we told them about our nondenominational Christian church attendance. They invited us to come to church, and thankfully then started talking about the ward, so instead of having to give them an answer, I was able to tell them that I'd been in that ward for four years in the past, and then they were interested in who I know who still goes there.

Overall, it was a pleasant conversation, other than being a little bothered by their initial misinformation and the short message they gave us at the end despite knowing that we knew all of what they were saying. We told them they could come back in a month. She said she may drop by with brownies sometime, which we weren't about to say no to. They can come over on occasion, we have no issue with that. They're a very nice couple, and all the more welcome for any dessert they come with.

A talk with my sister-in-law brought up a very good point about what they were doing, though. When someone leaves a church, coming to their house and asking them to come back is invading space and assuming that what they have isn't good enough. Sometimes they're right, what the person left the church for isn't good, but that doesn't make trying to get them back to the church right. And if this very pleasant, faithful couple asks why we left, they aren't going to like the answers, and chances are, they're still going to think that we should come back.

When I first started trying to share with other Mormons what I have found, someone who was talking about going on a mission soon (he may be on one now for all I know) freaked out at me, telling me I was messed up for trying to push my beliefs on other people. I wasn't just telling people. I was giving them the invitation to find out if they wanted to know. And this guy was about to go on a mission. How was what he was doing different, when you come down to it? But because he thinks he has the truth, and my findings are against that truth, what I was doing was "messed up," but a two-year mission was okay.

What's even more bothersome about this is the way missionaries often get converts. I watched the process with my husband, participated in it myself. Perhaps his leaving the church in only six months was my own fault, because I didn't try to hide things about the church: if it came up, then I'd talk about it. And what came up that got my husband so bothered was something that most Mormons don't learn about for months, if not years, after their conversation: becoming gods.

Missionaries are trained to talk about the restoration, necessitated by a universal apostasy that there's not really any historical context for; the preexistence and the plan of salvation, perhaps mentioning exaltation but not that that means becoming gods; temple marriage and eternal families and other eternal benefits exclusive to Mormon ordinances; the standards and values of the church and the requirements for temple attendance (including paying the church 10% of your income as a requirement instead of a choice); and the Book of Mormon being found and translated and being the "fullness of the Gospel," then asking the potential convert to only read and pray so that manifestation of truth is purely based on feelings, without a single mention of any support of its historical context or the fact that it doesn't actually contain the fullness of the Mormon gospel.

So this person feels the brotherhood of the church, sees the cleanness and high values and tight-knit families, feels welcomed and excited, and they're getting good feelings because of all these positive things (who wouldn't?), but they barely know what they really believe. They know all the happy feel-good things, which there are plenty of in the LDS community. But they don't know of the un-Christian, un-Biblical, unprovable things, and when they learn of some of them, they're too enmeshed and faithful to leave...or they leave and never want to come back, like my husband.

The rate of people being converted is definitely not to be laughed at. Missionaries are sent out to places that are often prime pickings and get many converts. But the amount of people who remain in the church by the end of their first year is much lower, and the church knows this. When my husband was first converted, I heard over and over about how holding to our values and getting to church often was very important, especially during the first year.

Perhaps if missionaries were trained to tell the whole story at the beginning--to mention becoming gods in their explanation of the plan of salvation, to talk about how Christ is just our elder brother and so is Satan, and Christ is not just a separate being from God, he's a second god, and all the other controversial things that Mormons do believe, they'd get far less converts, but a lot more people would stay after conversion.

The Priesthood

As Mormons define it: the authority to act in the name of God.

Now that I look at just that definition, I cringe. Why would God deny his children the ability to act in his name just because they didn't have the Melchizedek or Aaronic priesthood--e.g., be a worthy male Mormon twelve or older.

A thorough look at Hebrews, especially chapter 7, tell us some simple things that show how wrong that is. 7:12 tells us that there is a change in the priesthood and the law. Well, when did the law change? When Christ changed it through his atonement. And so the priesthood changed as well. The same chapter, as well as chapter 5, also tell us that Christ is the high priest and the only one we'll ever need. One of the words used in the original Hebrew to describe Christ's priesthood actually is literally translated as "untransferable inviolate." Which means that only Christ holds the priesthood and it cannot be violated or changed. The reason that Christ's priesthood is described as being after the order of Melchizedek is because Christ, like Melchizedek, lives forever, and is not of the tribe of Aaron. Melchizedek, like so many other people and things of the Old Testament, was simply a symbol of Christ.

So what is the priesthood now? is what Mormons will ask me. Its beautiful, is what it is. The first chapter of Revelation tells us: "To him who loves us and has released us from our sins by his own blood--he has made us a kingdom of priests for his God and Father--to him be glory and power forever."

1 Peter 2:9-10 says "You are the chosen race, the royal priesthood, the consecrated nation, his own people, so that you may declare the virtues of him who has called you out of darkness into his wonderful light; you who were once no people, but are now God's people"

And Romans 12:4-6 and 1 Corinthians 12:27 tell us that we are the body of Christ.

No wonder we're a royal priesthood, a chosen race, a kingdom of priests! We are the body of Christ, because we have his Spirit residing within us! We have Christ's own priesthood and authority! As long as we are in line with his will, his Word, and his love, our faith is our authority! Our faith is our belief! This is why we do not need prophets of the sort of the Mormon church--we have both the prophets of the Bible and we have a direct link to God himself! And apostles? We have their testament in a beautiful book along with the prophets. Is it a coincidence that the Old Testament is the prophets, and the New Testament is the apostles? And every one of us can take time to learn God's word well enough to teach it and evangelize to others. We have all the requirements for being the true church, for having true authority, just by being Christians!

When I was Mormon, it was not that simple. I never saw a miracle done by the priesthood that couldn't either be explained by faith, natural causes, or, worst of all, by Satan's own deceptions. Perhaps that sounds cynical. But I have experienced blessings that only God's goodness in creating this world and setting it in motion in the way he wanted could have blessed me with, and there is no possible way that Satan did that, and I can't believe that this life is all for nothing, just a series of meaningless things that have come together to create this life.

I struggled with the priesthood for the while because I couldn't see how God could be so sexist. When it was in the Old Testament, only the men of the tribe of Levi could hold the priesthood. It was so specific that it was harder to call it sexist. It was for a specific purpose (sacrifice for sins, which was fulfilled in Christ, the ultimate and final sacrifice) and those people, because of their faithfulness at a crucial time, earned the right to the priesthood.

But the Mormon priesthood isn't like that. Its made in such a way that a woman can't even lay her hands on her child's head and heal him or her in the name of Christ, by the priesthood--but a man can. Why was I to be denied the rights that I had as a believer just because I was a woman? I finally got some "answer" because certain women in the temple are allowed to do certain priesthood ordinances for other women because gender separation in those things keeps the men from administering them. And they said that it was so sacred for a woman to hold the priesthood for those ordinances, and I liked hearing that. A good example of the pride that exists in the church, because of its exclusivity.

The answer wasn't actually satisfying, but it felt like God was telling me "don't worry, I know you're struggling with this."

How beautiful was the truth when I found it. How beautiful is the true answer. I cannot help but marvel at what I continue to learn, and how much Christ is easing the bitterness and pride left from my experiences and showing me the beauty of what he offers those who accept the one and only God of love and truth as their own.

My Prayer

There are some days where it takes everything I have to not just scream at those who look at me and think "She's an apostate...she didn't turn out well enough..." My family...my old friends from church...they all see that I left, and don't see the joy in my life beyond that, not really.

My little brother has probably been one of the most difficult. On Father's Day two days ago, we were joking around with each other, and he playfully said he got scared whenever he turned out like me one way or another. I laughingly denied turning out badly, citing a good marriage and a decent job, among other things, and he gave me a look. And I just knew he was thinking that I'd left the church...and so he never wanted to be like his big sister. Not in that way. Not ever.

So I just pray, for myself and those in my position...God, grant me strength, and understanding, and patience, and love. Help them see through what they've been taught to see what's really there. And help me be the example so that when they finally see it, they will see joy and goodness, rather than just an apostate. Help me have the grace to stay strong, to know when its time to speak up and to know when to leave things alone. Help all of us who have found our way out, to testify with out lives that we have found better--that we didn't leave because we weren't good enough--that our little siblings can grow up to be like us without shame.

The God Problem

As far as I know, the LDS church is the only religion of note to have ever claimed that every can become gods. Not that everyone will, but that everyone can. If they haven't received the necessary ordinances in life, then there's still a chance in death through proxy ordinances.

This belief began with Joseph Smith. Its not taught very openly, and neither me or my brother learned of it until our teenage years despite being born into the church. Its a very important part of "The Plan of Salvation," yet Mormons don't usually tell prospective converts about that part. It's too...strange.

It came up between Steven and I within a few months of his conversion, though. I loved that part of Mormon doctrine, and thought it made so much sense. God made us in his image; he wants us to become like him. The son follows the footsteps of the father, the daughter of the mother.

Steven and I had many discussions about this, some of them tearful. Remember what I said about him being practical and having dedicated his faith to Biblical Christianity a while back? Well, this is where it came in.

The conversation I remember most vividly took place at my college. Steven was there with me for the school day, and we spent my free hours on a couch debating the issue, watching people go by.

Using the topical guide in the LDS scriptures, I had found a Bible verse where Jesus said "ye are gods." (I later found out that the way the LDS church portrays this scripture is way out of context.) Using that and the logic of growing up to become a parent like your parents, I debated with him endlessly.

Steven simplified it into something you'd see as a kid on Saturday morning. "Just imagine this," he said. "We're going to make this into a cartoon, okay? Imagine God in a lab, and he's got a petri dish that has our world in it, and he watches us through a magnifying glass. Then you die, and poof, you pop out of the petri dish. He goes, 'here you go!' and hands you a lab coat and a petri dish and tells you to make your own world. Did I get that about right?"

"In a simplified and ridiculous way, yes," I said in exasperation.

"Well, it is ridiculous!" he exclaimed, both amused and equally exasperated.

"No, its not. It makes sense," I returned to my argument. And off we went in circles about lab coats and divine inheritance.

When I left the church, I of course had to question this belief. A false prophet having taught it, I wasn't too optimistic that it would hold up.

Sure enough, upon a closer look, the Mormon "solution" to a non-human God and the question of where we come from and where we're going created more conundrums than it solved, and it completed contradicts the Bible. The Word is very clear about there being no other gods, besides ours. Not that ours is just "the only one we have anything to do with." He is the only true God.

"You are my witnesses," declares the LORD, "...Before me no god was formed, nor will there be one after me" (Isaiah 43:10).
"This is what the LORD says -- ...I am the first and I am the last; apart from me there is no God...Is there any God besides me? No, there is no other Rock; I know not one" (Isaiah 44:6,8).
"I am the LORD, and there is no other; apart from me there is no God" (Isaiah 45:5).

A Lightened Burden

The Mormon church claims that all of their ordinances are necessary and all of their rules and "guidelines" are supposed to give a person freedom. Freedom from Satan, they say.

To an extent, their many rules are good. Obedient Mormons tend to be clean, modest, giving, kind, industrious, and virtuous. They tend to have longer life spans because of the Word of Wisdom. I'm sure the STD rate is also lower because of their Law of Chastity, which states that fornication and other sexual sins are next to murder and denying the Holy Ghost (or denying Christ when one knows of Him for a surety, such as from personal witness).

In general, its common for LDS people to be musically inclined and generally talented, boys often achieve their Eagle Scout award, women are good homemakers, and men good providers. It all seems very ideal.

But there are problems with this idealistic encouragement of being a model of high standards and accomplishments.

There is absolute micromanagement of members, to the point that people will follow a rule blindly just because it is given by the church. Here's a quick list off the top of my head of many of the things the church has rules and guidelines on for individuals:

Diet; apparel; tithing; piercing; dating; marriage (where and who sees it, etc); gender roles; recommended education; family life; birth control and reproductive responsibilities; appropriate music; appropriate movies; appropriate literature; sex (in and out of marriage); language; church involvement and responsibilities; emergency preparedness; church education; appropriate research on church matters; how to pray; missions for young men; tattoos; and general behavior. That's 23, with many things further regulated within an item.

Sure, all this creates the idyllic picture-perfect families and virtuous teenagers, modest and clean and well-behaved, helpful and prepared and a bit traditional. But why is it bad to have a second modest ear piercing for a woman? Why would God disapprove of that when its the heart he judges? Someone can be a virtuous, loving, good person and have three piercings, a tattoo, no kids despite being married, wear a bikini on the beach, and so on. I've known too many good, God-loving people who don't follow many of these to think that God requires all of that for a person to please him--to be worthy.

I know a mother and daughter, the daughter being a friend of mine, that have been absolutely inspiring to me as an example of abandoning religious legalism and focusing instead on personal responsibility, acceptance, understanding of consequences.

For instance, the mother made the daughter promise from a young age to tell her when she started having sex. My friend of course learned about STDs. She watched other peers go through sexual relationships as she grew up. The responsibility of when she engaged in the same thing was completely hers. My friend ended up waiting and making the decision with long thought and commitment, and she and her boyfriend--although the depth of their relationship makes that too light a term--have been together for a long time in a mature and dedicated relationship. They aren't married, so it is not the Christian standard, but its better than many do in this day and age.


While the daughter doesn't adhere to Mormon modesty standards, she also never flaunts herself in a promiscuous manner, instead purporting herself with dignity that shows an inner modesty and beauty at once. I once saw her and another friend wear the same outfit to an event once, it being only a little less revealing than a bikini. But while the other friend seemed flaunting and immodest, my friend was simply beautiful. Modesty and self-assurance are more important from the inside.

Personal responsibility makes one more understanding of why something is good or bad to do or be. For young people, having that level of personal responsibility accompanied by the understanding of why creates less need to rebel. There's a reason that teenagers with particularly strict parents tend to rebel or else who try to please their parents even if they don't understand why they're following some of the rules, and people with parents who don't give them personal responsibility often go off the good path. The church fits into the first category, in terms of how it treats its members and the reactions of the members.

In terms of sin, the burden of follow these rules well enough is immense. Not following one rule well enough can be the cause of not receiving a temple marriage, not being able to take the sacrament, or even one's membership being put on the line, which puts their ability to reach the Celestial Kingdom on the line. In fact, all these rules and the human inability to perfectly follow all of them perfectly leaves most members unsure of making it to the Celestial Kingdom.

This being unsure--especially in times of being in the midst of or repenting from more grievous sins--is something I experienced often (no, I didn't engage in grievous sin often, but I felt the lack of surety often), and watched other people experience. "I hope I make it," I'd hear people say. They would profess their sincere faith in Christ, would fulfill their callings, would be great mothers or good children, would work hard and try hard, but because there's no way of knowing if perhaps something is going to go wrong later in life, if perhaps some mess-up or list of sins will be too much to overcome, they almost never say, "I know I'll see you in the Celestial Kingdom." "I hope," they say. "But I won't know until I get there." And I thought that was beautiful, that as long as they hoped that and kept trying--that as long as I kept hoping and trying--we all probably would. Because if we stopped hoping, stopped trying, that's when we wouldn't.

This is so different from what I found after leaving in Christianity, and different from many world faiths and religions. The only other one notable for requiring things to achieve salvation--and I'm not even completely sure the works are as much of a requirement as the most important of commandments--is Islam, which requires prayer and other such things of its members.

Its not hard to understand the Biblical standpoint, which is the one we'll look at as the LDS believe the Bible and I have become Christian.

The Bible makes it clear that salvation comes from faith, and faith leads to a desire to follow the commandments. Good works don't save someone, lest they boast. (Ephesians 2:9) Good works doesn't necessitate faith, but true faith does necessitate good works, and also the following of the more Christian-exclusive commandments.

One can also say that God instilled in us a natural understand of ethics, such as in killing, stealing, adultery, etc., and a natural desire to find love. So, to embrace God's goodness in oneself is to embrace the goodness that is God. It is that embracing, that choice to take God into one's life, that is salvation.

This burden of embracing goodness because of salvation, knowing that no amount of goodness will save but all amount of sincere faith will, is much lighter and far less judgmental than the Mormon way. Its more...Christlike.

One of the most un-Christlike rules of the church is the requirement to give 10% of income to the church in order to be worthy to attend the temple. Giving service, following all ten commandments completely (such as keeping the Sabbath day holy or honoring father and mother) are not absolute requirements, though the bishop isn't about to let you get away with murder, adultery, lawlessness, or open discord. But paying the church a part of your income is an absolute requirement to get into the temple to receive "saving ordinances."

If you type in "Saving Ordinances" in the search engine on LDS.org, it will come up with 1,886 results. The very first link includes this statement: "Speaking to his people on April 8, 1844, the Prophet Joseph said that the temple ordinances as he was giving them were so important that “without (them) we cannot obtain celestial thrones. But there must be a holy place prepared for that purpose.” (History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 6:318–20.)" (Why We Build Temples, By Elder Mark E. Petersen, October 1980 Liahona)

So yes, the temple ordinances are required for salvation on a Celestial level in the Mormon Church, and you do have to pay the church to receive them if you want them while still alive. Otherwise, you have to wait until after death, and hope someone living does them for you, assuming your children or other immediate family or your will or some human oversight doesn't prevent this being done for you and therefore ending all possibility for achieving Celestial Glory.

No, the LDS requirements are a great burden, and very exclusive and controlling. The true Christ of the Bible doesn't say to us that all these things are required for salvation and surety. Instead, the message of the requirements for salvation are joyful, simple, and sure. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest...For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11:28, 30

An Apostate in a Member Home

"Satan has his claws in you and Steven," Mom lamented.

I remained silent. Its my favorite tactic when my parents are "discussing" something with me that I don't agree with them on. I'm pretty quiet when I know I'm in the wrong, too, but its a different sort of quiet. This is the blank-faced, let them talk because it won't change my mind, staring sort of silent.

"You know that we'll lose you for eternity if you leave?" she pressed.

I nodded. "Yes," I said quietly. I didn't believe that anymore, but I didn't feel like arguing about it. Like I said, let them talk because it won't change my mind.

The conversation with my parents wasn't fun. I mostly spoke when I absolutely had to. My father was the first Mormon I ever heard justify false prophecies with personal failing on the prophet's part. He clung to his testimony, saying that things against the church didn't matter because his testimony was too strong. He didn't--couldn't--acknowledge the Bible reference I had given about one false prophecy being enough to make a prophet false.

"You should go to Utah to live with Donny and Molly," Mom suggested, speaking of my aunt and uncle in Utah. He's a seminary teacher, she's a Molly-Mormon. They have five adorable, well-behaved children. I love that family, and they're very, very faithful. "If anyone can answer your questions, Donny can."

"That is such a good idea," Dad agreed. "You know, Lee, I think Mom was inspired to say that."

I had my doubts, but of course didn't say so.

"You could leave at the end of your quarter," Mom said, "And live there for a few months."

Since college had now been mentioned, Dad went further. "We could pay for you to go to Utah State for a semester," Dad offered. Donny and Molly live close to Logan, where the University is located. No housing costs.

This surprised me. Dad had been complaining about paying for community college, and was now offering to pay out of state tuition. I said as much.

"We've always said that we'll take care of whatever you need us to for college, wherever you want to go," he placated. I didn't bother to point out the inaccuracy of the statement.

"Then," Mom continued, hopeful, "You can have a summer wedding, when you get back, if you and Steven still want to get married at that point."

The "if" actually made them hopeful. They felt Steven's doubts had been a bad influence on me--that I hadn't been strong enough. They liked him otherwise, but I knew they would have preferred me to go to Utah, come back to the church, and find a good Mormon boy instead, to take me to the temple.

They asked me to think and pray about it. I said okay. I did what they asked...and didn't go to Utah. Bribery, no matter how "inspired," isn't my thing, and I was sure about my choice, so dealing with family trying to reconvert me for half a year wasn't appealing.

Things were tense at home after that. My brother acted like I'd lost all my values. I have friends that drink and such, and my own husband has his share of stories from high school. Many of these stories are amusing, and once upon a time my brother and I would laugh together about them, but suddenly I get "why are all your stories about drinking now?" as if I was suddenly a slutty party-er. The next day he put up a quote about temple marriage by Brigham Young right smack on the kitchen window. Everyone got upset when I tried moving it to his bedroom door, even though he'd "put it up for himself."

The final straw was when my mom got upset about me staying overnight at a friend's house with Steven one night. We'd stayed late and were tired, so I called and left a message for my mom letting her know i wasn't coming home and why. It was a half hour drive back. Steven and I stayed at our friend's. Being an adult and in college, notifying was all I was required to do by house rules.

I went to college the next morning, and had only fifteen minutes at home to change between classes and work. I came into my bedroom to find the dirty dishes on the floor, just because I hadn't been home to do them the night before. If I had been home and hadn't done the dishes, that wouldn't have happened. In all the years of my brother always "forgetting" to do the dishes and me sometimes spacing them, that had never happened.

Mom and i never discussed those dishes, but she did make it clear that she felt like I'd waited until after she was asleep to call about staying at our friend's house one purpose, so that she couldn't say no. Not that she could have said no, considering that I was no longer in high school or a minor. She said she felt I'd done it just to stay the night with Steven, and said I couldn't do that while living there.

She compared it to a smoker. She couldn't stop them from smoking, but they weren't allowed to do so in the house. But if they wanted to go to the end of the driveway or the field behind the backyard, they were more than welcome to. And the same applied to me and staying the night with Steven. I didn't quite get that, as it seemed to me I had gone to the figurative end of the driveway, and I had followed the house rules, but I didn't argue it with her. She told me I couldn't do it again while living there, no matter why I'd done it (because being very tired late at night on a school night wasn't a valid reason not to drive home, apparently).

I had been trying to avoid moving in with Steven before marriage--not that we'd been sinless, but I was taking the first steps to becoming a Christian and certainly didn't want to give the Mormons I knew ammo against me. I was done, though, I couldn't deal with anymore. I left my parents' house, Steven and I found an apartment, and we moved our wedding date up since we no longer had to wait for a temple wedding. (He'd been baptized in late March '09, so we had put the original date for mid-April of '10, we moved it to the beginning of January '10). I was out of there, and could start my own life.

Freedom.