I went to church today. After spending the last couple years coming to terms with my time as a Mormon and its flaws as an organization, I figured I needed to look it in the eyes. Have I been building it up into a boogey man? How can I be sure that I'm not living in a preconceived notion of what this thing actually is? And have I been wrong about my decision to leave the Church?
No, a little bit yes, but mostly more no.
It's been about ten years since I was last sincerely active, so the main thing I felt was a wave of strange nostalgia. Fake plants on the wall, uncomfortable tweed/twine walls (yes, really. I don't know how else to describe it), the scent of mild perfume, and sounds of washed-out hymns staggering through the air. At one point I could've sworn I smelled the distinct aroma of emu oil. It was nasty stuff I used to apply as ointment for my rough skin during my teenage years. Whether it actually worked or not is anyone's guess, but the smell certainly made an impression.
The extroverted nature of Mormonism often includes greetings and shaking hands with, well, everyone. Particularly those you aren't familiar with, in an effort to create a welcoming atmosphere. So in preparation for setting foot inside a chapel, I found myself wondering how I'd introduce myself. I decided I'd say I was 'just visiting', and if the inquiries persisted, I'd tell them I was visiting from 'Inactiveland'.
This whole inner dialogue of mine kind of stopped me in my tracks when I realized that, on some level, I was going to the sacrament meeting with a bit of confrontation in my heart; I wanted to get in a heated discussion, tell people why I left and point out all the problems that are lurking under the pews. Part of this notion was sheer curiosity to see if I could stand by my convictions in the face of my own polite, people-pleasing nature. And if I couldn't, would that mean I don't even have convictions?
Alas, I never discovered the answer - I entered and exited the building without so much of a nod or fake smile.
While I was initially getting in the car to to drive over to the church I asked myself if I would feel the Spirit, or Holy Ghost. Knowing that some part of me was looking for conflict and reflecting on all the things I've been learning about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints over the last year, I was forced to confront the fact that I might not even be open enough to have any kind of spiritual experience even if it was available to me. And if that's the case, what was the point of even going if I couldn't keep an open mind?
What if I did feel the Spirit? What would that mean? That my worldview is and has been wrong, I've been living in sin, and that I'm an objectively terrible person.
I arrived, and I sat down near the back. And I felt something bubbling up. Nerves? Latent guilt? Whatever it was, it wasn't comfort or love, and it slowly dissipated as the meeting progressed. To hymns, announcements, sacrament, and members of the ward talking about the nature of joy and having Christ at the center of your life. I winced internally when the last speaker made a point of how we all need to be seeking daily repentance.
Why is that idea uncomfortable? Making steady efforts every day to improve yourself and be a better person is a worthy effort. I've since fallen from grace, but I remember how much I improved by sketching every day. Isn't repentance just spiritually re-drawing yourself?
The difference here, I think, is that repentance isn't just trying to be better, it's the seeking of forgiveness. So that means that every day you have to admit that you've done wrong and you need approval from someone (THE someone) to find peace.
That realization clicked into place, and I connected the dots on another part of what always bothered me about the whole shebang. Repentance for me is people-pleasing God himself, and unlike my coworkers or friends, I don't get to go home and turn off that part of me. God follows me around everywhere, and I'm supposed to fear him and love him and please him all the time.
How exhausting.
After the closing prayer, I took a moment to look around. And you know what I saw? Nothing sinister. Just people smiling, and bustling around, and living their best lives. The leadership wasn't chuckling to themselves while tapping their fingers together, marveling at how they've pulled the wool over all these people. Nope, it was just folks doing their thing, feeling inspired and edified with their (spiritual) community. From my seat near the back, it's all so benign.
Problems are everywhere if you know where to dig, but I've long since tunneled my way out. I think it's time to set the shovel aside and carry on with my own journey.
-Cril
Now I'm going back to my home town
On a journey through the past
And I won't be back
'Till February comes
I will stay with you
If you'll stay with me,
Said the fiddler to the drum,
And we'll keep good time
On a journey thru the past.
James Mercer - Journey Through the Past
