No matter where a child is born. No matter what country or religion he is born into, the child is taught traditional stories which are false. Some of these stories are harmless fairy tails that teach moral principals or serve as entertainment for the mind, providing wonderful concepts to think about.

Children believe these stories. Sometimes it takes years for the child to figure out that fairy tails are not real. Santa Clause is an example if a fictional story that children believe to be real. It takes several Christmas seasons before children discover the truth that the stories of Santa Claus are make believe.

But some traditional stories are taught with the intent that people will believe the story through out their entire life. In Roman times, the tails of the Greek Gods were believed to be truth. In not so ancient times, the Japanese believed the emperor was a actual God, who could lead the country to victory in war. The traditions of several American Indians taught that the tribal medicine man can see in dreams the location of game and that he can foretell the future.

One might ask, what is the harm in teaching false stories based in tradition? From my point of view there is no harm when the stories are taught with the intent that the listener will some day discover the truth that the stories are fantasy. But when false stories are presented as absolute truth, an injustice is created. The creators and promoters of the stories become an elite class who unfairly benefit from the labor and devotion of the believers.

Let's take for example the tribal medicine man The story is he has special powers to see and know. The tribe honors and respects him. If there is a dispute they come to him for advice. When they want direction on where to find food, he provides answers. Sometimes his answers are accurate and good, at other times they are not. Hardly anyone notices when the answers are wrong, because the the medicine man blames others for the error. If the braves of the hunting party return empty handed, he says, perhaps their heart was not right or maybe they trespassed some unknown sacred burial ground on the way to the hunt.

The medicine man has no special power, but the perception is he has true power. Thus he receives respect, honor, prestige and spoils from the hunt without having to do much meaningful work.

If one of the young braves notices all the times the medicine man is wrong he will start to doubt the ability of the medicine man. If he challenges the medicine man, he will be labeled as a troublemaker. One who wants to destroy the success of the tribe. The medicine man will say, it was the young brave who's heart was not right, it was the young brave who trespassed the sacred burial ground. If the brave continues to challenge, the medicine man will see to it that the brave is cast out from the tribe. The doubter must be silenced or kept separate from the rest who believe. Because the only threat to the elite status of the medicine man is doubt. Unchecked doubt will spread like wildfire through the tribe.

I was born into a special tribe. A unique group with a sacred mission to save the world. I was in the chosen generation, prepared with a major roll to play in this critical time in the history of the world.

The Elders of my tribe were the elite of the elite, hand picked by God himself. In my eyes they could do no wrong. The story was they talked face to face with God and God would not allow them to lead my tribe in a wrong direction.

I was a true believer, a true devotee, ready to give anything and everything to the cause of the tribe. In fact at one point I actually did give all my time and everything I had to the tribe.

I listened to the elders of my tribe with an open heart, ready to follow all their wise words which came directly from God. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to be wise like them. I studied all their words with eager anticipation that one day, I too could be wise. My hope was to have wise advice for my children.

As time went by I noticed much of the advice given by the Elders of my tribe did not work. Even though my heart was right and I followed their advise with exactness, the promised results seldom happened. Problems in my life were getting worse, not better.

Because of my deep desire to be wise, I continued my studies by reading books in psychology and self help. I began to wonder why concepts I learned in psychology worked better at resolving life's problems than the advise I received from my inspired tribal leaders.

In my studies I learned to question everything. This helped me sort out the true nuggets of wisdom from the chaff. I considered each new idea from all sides. I asked myself what would the world look like if the new idea was true? What if it was false? What might be the true motive of the author for presenting such a concept? By questioning I was able to dismiss many false teachings.

One day as I was reading a book, the author made what I thought was quite an outlandish statement. He said, “all religious leaders seek confessions from their followers so that they can use the information against the one who confesses.” My immediate thought was, “that may be true for other religions or for other tribes. But in my tribal Elders are chosen directly by God. They never have ulterior motives. Their motives are pure. Their only desire is to free the troubled soul by seeking a confession.”

Then I asked myself, “Is that really true? Couldn't there be a lower level leader like a Bishop somewhere in the world who might use confessed information against the confessor?” After more consideration I had to admit to myself that yes there could be a corrupt bishop somewhere in the world, but never a Stake President. After reviewing in my mind the character of various Stake Presidents I have known, I again had to admit that yes there could be a corrupt Stake President somewhere out there. Then I asked myself, “Could there be a corrupt General Authority?” The immediate answer was, “No, God would never let that happen.” And that is where the questioning ended until several hours latter when it was time to go to bed.

As I drifted off to sleep that night I rolled this thought over in my mind. “What if there was a corrupt General Authority? What would that mean?” Again I had to admit to myself that because of the large number of General Authorities, somewhere in the world there could be a corrupt General Authority.

In the morning a new question was on my mind, a scary question. This question I had never allowed myself to consider. The mere thought of this question brought terror to my soul, because deep down inside I knew an affirmative answer would mean my life will change forever. There could be no going back. Here is the question, “Could the story of my tribe be made up? What if it was just a made up story?”

Of course I had to know the answer. My whole life I had always assumed the story of my tribe was real. How could it not be? Everyone in my life who knew anything about my tribe said it was real. This was the first time I allowed my mind to consider the possibility that it might be a made up story.

What would a made up story look like? For one thing a story changes over time. This was easy enough to check out. Joseph Smith’s first vision story, the very foundation of my tribes history, has changed and evolved over time. There are several different versions of the story written by Joseph Smith himself. (See the January 1985 issue of The Ensign on the church's web site.
Church Publications/Magazines/Ensign/1985/January Joseph Smith's Recitals of the First Vision by Milton V. Backman, Jr.)

Why couldn't Joe keep his story straight? Why is there no evidence that he told the first vision story to anyone until several years after it supposedly happened? The simple and obvious answer is he made it up. As scary as this may sound to those who believe Joe Smith, the fact is he had a wild imagination and he was a great story teller.

Joe Smith died many years ago and his fantastic stories should have died with him. But he started a tribe and he selected Elders to lead the tribe. The Elders of my tribe did not want to lose their elite status so they kept the stories going. These Elders are all about status, prestige and position and they maintain their place no matter what the cost is to others in the tribe.

They use the same formula as the medicine man. Tell a beautiful story and silence the doubters.

Now, I was the doubter. I doubted the wisdom of the Elders. As soon as my doubts were made known, I became the trouble maker, the destroyer of the tribe. I must be silenced or separated from the rest.

Members of my tribe became afraid to talk to me. Though there were some who still pretended to be my friend, there was hidden tension in the air, an unspoken thought that my evilness might rub off on them.

When my dear wife went to the leaders seeking counsel as to what to do, they made it clear to her I was a lost cause. Best to save the children from the destroyer of the tribe. Do it at any cost. The cost was high. It cost her the relationship with her loving husband and it cost the children the presence of their father in the home. So a good family was broken up in order to preserve the status of the Elders.

Some days, I like to sit and remember. I remember the great Elders of my tribe. I remember how I honored them, how I respected them, how I wanted to be wise like them. I remember that I waited in long lines just to shake their hand.

Now, I see who they really are and my respect for them is gone. I fantasize that one day I will find myself in another line to shake their hand. If I get the chance to shake an Elder's hand I know what I will do. I will grasp his hand firmly and pull him close to me so I can look him in the eye. After a long gaze, after I look deep into his soul, I will lean in closer and ….... spit in his face. Because that is the respect the Elders of my tribe deserve.

These Elders are great story tellers. They tell stories of ancient tribal leaders who were protected by God himself. One great Elder stood on the city wall of his enemies. No stone or arrow could harm him. They tell stories like this with great passion. They say they “know” it is true. They say God protects the Elders of my tribe.

I hear their words and I wonder if they really believe what they say. I wonder if I will ever get a chance to give them their due respect. I doubt that day will ever come.

You see the Elders of my tribe talk a beautiful talk, but if you want to know what they really believe, look at what they do. They travel in cars with bullet proof glass. They surround themselves with a well trained security force. It is almost impossible for a doubter like me to get anywhere close to them. They trust in men for protection because deep down inside this is what they actually “know”, God never has and God never will protect the super elite class of story tellers known as Mormon Prophets and Apostles.