My UK story of discovery
A little while ago I was attending Priesthood. I was serving that time as the Ward Executive Secretary. As usual I was running around like a headless chicken doing all the tasks, arranging interviews, giving assignments, reminding people of temple recommends expiring and asking would they like an interview with the Bishop etc. I was speaking with one of the counselors who was moaning at me for not having done something (can't remember what). It was no big deal, he was a nice guy normally. But I felt put out. My (Japanese) wife was away in Japan with the kids visiting her terminally ill father. Work was very busy. Start up companies always are, and this was no exception. I was working all the hours god sends...who is this god person anyway? So there I was raising my voice in front of the all male congregation. I had had enough. I felt bad. Never before had I just walked out...but I did this time.
I might add at a little bit about my background now: My parents were converts to the church when I was still in nappies (diapers, to my US cousins). My parents had emigrated to New Zealand when I was 11months old. They joined the church there and came back to the UK when I was four. I was 37 when I walked out that Sunday. My father served as a District President, on the Mission Presidency, as a Stake President, as a Patriarch and currently as an Exec Sec to one of the Quorum of the Seventy. Me I was faithful. I always did my Home Teaching. I served as everything at Ward level. I went on a full time mission to Norway...more about that later. I was married in the Temple. Both my children attended Primary and I had baptized my older son. Really quite the model member - if only they knew.
"Prove me now herewith..." So I went home feeling bad. I felt guilty and thought I had perhaps better get some spiritual fuel and went to look for the Church web site. This is where I came across the "exmormon" site. What's this rubbish I thought. So I had a look. I felt even more guilty. Good church members should stay away from these sort of sites! I can see why now!!! I read a bit. I read a bit more. That can't be right...can it? Let me check that reference. Grief, that bit is true, that is what the Church has said in the past. What about this? And so it went on. I read every story, every article. Now what I do?
My wife if you remember, was in Japan. I was at home alone. My mind was in turmoil, but I had to make a decision. You can call me a lot of things, but "hypocritical" was a title I tried to avoid at all cost. I never ever did go back to Church. I spoke to my wife daily on the phone. I told her very briefly, but really didn't say too much. I printed off reams of stuff for her to read. On her return she continued to go to Church, but as a diligent wife she read the things. Then left too.
Now I note that many people have had trouble removing their names from Church records. I didn't. I wrote, with no explanation and just said remove all our names from the records. I was serving as the Exec Sec so I did go back to Church one Sunday morning at a time when I knew the Bishop would have just finished Bishopric meeting and would being going to pick up his family for Church. I waited in the carpark, so I could return his diary and lists etc. He spoke to me for two minutes through the car window, but all I said was that I didn't wish to discuss it. This seemed the easy way out. After all, I had been lied too all these years and I wasn't going to waste anymore time on it. Besides which, if anyone knew the doctrinal answers and responses to all this it would [only] be me anyway.
Bear in mind that I had been an active member in this Ward for over twenty years and in the Stake for twenty three. Only two people bothered contacting me. So where are all these friends that give cards every year at Christmas? The ones I have given lifts too. Cleared their backyards. Taught their children. I'm glad really, because it saved me a lot of heartache telling them to leave me alone. But it did make me wonder. Two people did phone me. One was the Stake President, who was "really concerned" and would like to visit with me and my family "even if we didn't discuss church". Well all along I was very polite. Indeed I actually told him that he was welcome in my home. That he could come any time. He said he would contact me and make an appointment to visit, on his return from a foreign business trip. He never did contact me again. He obviously was really committed in his "love". The other person that did contact me was his councilor. I had grown up with him and he was more of a friend. He didn't argue at all and just listened. He was the only person, apart from the friend in Utah many months later, that I ever explained things too.
So how was church when I did attend? Well, I was generally pretty lonely. I grew up in a Ward with an attendance of about 50. By the time I left the attendance was around the 200 mark. There was no other youth my age. Nearest ones were 4 years older or 4 years younger. Apart from a few girls that didn't really want anything to do with me...normal really. My father, I never saw him much. He used to commute to London every day and was gone before I got up and back late. Weekends were taken up with "Church work". I always thought that we were a family church...another story. My poor old mum was left to bring up us four kids. I had an older brother, four years older. He was the one who sexually abused me for years, took photos of my genitals to pass around at school. It was worse, but I don't think it fair to include others abused in this discourse. He got a job gardening. I remember he got £5 a week. There was a lawn to cut and large flower beds to weed. He let me in on it. He cut the grass and I did the weeding. I got paid £1. Why does the word "exploitation" spring to mind? Very kindly he said I could get a lift in the car with him, but he was leaving now. I dashed upstairs to get my coat. He was gone in the time it took. He was into electronics. He worked for Marconi radar. He had the big bedroom, that dad divided into two, so he had a work shop too. I had HIS friend (he was serving the same appenticeship at Marconi and needed a place to stay) in my room for four years. But my parents were blissfully unaware of all this heartache. British stiff upper lip..or should that be LDS? When I was 18, he aged 22 (and his 15 year old(?!! bit weird) fiancee) were killed in a car accident. Mum and Dad were devastated. I was sad for them, but secretly what a relief to me. Good riddance. They were sealed in the Temple vicariously. I have always had this guilt complex over this, but really all that sticks out in my mind is the above notes. I hated him. But hay ho, God will sort it all out in the end eh?
My mission was to be a relief to me...or so I thought. I put down on my mission papers that I would like to serve in Norway. I was assigned Norway. Great. There was no MTC in the UK at that time, and generally foreign speaking missionaries were sent to the MTC in Salt Lake. Not me. No sir. Straight out. The Mission President put me with an experienced Missionary. He had one month to serve. All he wanted to do was sit in the flat. We went out occasionally to do grocery shopping, but that was it. Cooped up in the same room with a complete stranger and I couldn't speak a word of Norwegian. Even on Sundays I lived in this isolated world. No other missionaries anywhere. I asked the President whether I could serve in the mission home initially. No. New companion. A total jerk. It was mid winter. Now the UK may get down to freezing during the winter where I lived, but nothing like the -20C plus the wind chill factor. I only had an inadequate coat and my body was beginning to seize up. I could hardly walk. One day my companion had had enough. He was the sort that went and specifically bought dental floss to sew his button on. "Why don't you just by thread?" I said...strange. I guess I couldn't have been the happiest of chappies at this time. One day he walked off and left me. There I was. Can't speak Norwegian and can't read Norwegian. Didn't know the address of the flat. New area. I didn't even know the number of the bus I needed. It was dark (most of the time actually!). I phoned the Mission Home. I nearly died of exposure. I was given a new companion. He was a really nice guy. If only I had had him from the start, but I had had enough. I asked to come home. I had served two and half months only. What a stigma to have on return to my home Ward. I heard in later life that this Mission President was excommunicated. How sad!
I joined the Police Force, it was the only thing I had ever wanted to do. But shortly after, I developed epilepsy. I lost my job. I lost my driving license and my motorcycle license. Bikes and cars were my interest in life. I lost those too . I bumped along, from low paid job to low paid job (epilepsy had a real stigma then). I was still having seizures.
As for Church, callings were limited. One day I went to Young adult convention. I met my wife to be there. A beautiful Japanese student and convert to the Church. We got married. We dad three children, although the middle one died twenty minutes after the birth. You know life can be cruel. God love's me. Refiner's fire.
Life improved. I had a beautiful family. I have an interesting and better paid job. I have my driving license back, but Church was still a burden. I was losing my "testimony". I did everything: Personal prayer. Yep. Family Prayer. yep. Scripture study. yep. Home teaching. Yep. Church attendance. Yep. Temple attendance. Yep. Family home Evening. Yep. I bought General Conference CD's to listen too while driving. I did everything I could think of, but Church was a burden. I guess Church members could argue that it is because I didn't endure my mission. Because I didn't forgive my brother (well that may be true, but I did dismiss it. It wasn't on my mind really at all). Because I could have gone to the Temple MORE often. I could have gone the extra mile (actually it would need to be 10 miles to make a difference I think). There a hundred and one arguments really.
Do you know what the truth really is though? It just ain't true.
For all the bad episodes sited above, there are good things too. Having to deal with all kinds of situations, teaching, talks, patience and all the things one develops are good things to help one at work. The ideas about teaching the [eternal] family, continuity in life are good things. We still have Family Home Evening, only to get away from these "sound bites" we just refer to it as "family time" now. Spirituality is important in life, but that can be sought in many ways. I have yet to find mine entirely, but it won't ever be in organized religion again.
Many principles taught are good, but it doesn't make Mormonism true, just a belief system that suits some, but not me.