Handcart Pioneers by CCA Christensen

When you grow up in a deeply committed religious community, especially one that your family has been a part of for generations, you naturally feel a sense of loyalty to it. I remember hearing stories about my ancestors who made great sacrifices to join the Mormon church once they learned about it in the 19th century. Some left behind everything they knew in Europe to travel to America and join the Latter-Day Saints. Some endured great hardship trekking across the plains to settle in Salt Lake City. They devoted a large part of their lives in service to the church. I was in awe of their sacrifice and hoped to live in a way that showed my gratitude.

When I was a young adult and began to question my belief in the church’s teachings, the thought crossed my mind often that I would be letting down my family if I left the religion, especially those still living relatives but also those who had passed on. I wasn’t sure if I believed in any kind of afterlife anymore but I still felt that I would be betraying my heritage. Eventually I decided that my own happiness and integrity was more important to me than loyalty to family and tradition, and when the evidence for the church’s claims no longer added up I stopped practicing the religion and eventually resigned my membership in the church. I never doubted that it was the right thing to do, so I saw my family’s disappointment as just an unfortunate and unavoidable consequence.

Recently, however, my perspective shifted when I was watching a documentary about a cult that started in the 1970s and I started thinking about why it is that people join new religions. What usually drives a person to abandon whatever religious tradition they were raised with and embrace a new one? What motivations could my ancestors have had to abandon the faith their fathers had practiced, probably for centuries, to join a new church? From what I know about them it seems clear that these people were seeking something. They were looking for something that they couldn’t find in the religion they knew. When they heard from the Mormon missionaries about how God had called a new prophet and revealed new scriptures, how miracles were happening and spiritual gifts were manifesting, something awakened in their souls. Perhaps they had become disenchanted with the lack of ecstatic spiritual experience in Protestant Christianity. Perhaps they disliked the rigid authority of a closed canon of scriptures. Or maybe they just had a very difficult life, materially poor or emotionally starved, and saw a promise of a new life in a new land. Whatever it was, these people had to have courage. I’m sure they also felt a duty to be loyal to their heritage, but their desire for truth was greater. They saw in Mormonism a way to connect with the divine and with a community of people that supported each other, and they took the plunge into the unknown.

So I asked myself, am I not following that same spirit? Have I not also been seeking to find the truth wherever it may be found? I can answer that question with a resounding yes. It is precisely my desire to find truth that led me to question the doctrines of the church. To believe that I’ve betrayed my ancestors would be to assume that loyalty means believing in the same doctrines and performing the same rituals, but doctrines and rituals are not what make up the character of a person. A person ought not to be judged solely by the specific beliefs they espouse but rather by the principles they live by. While I no longer believe in a god that lives in the Kolob star system who communicates to humans through an old white man in Utah, I do strive to live in a way that is aligned with my understanding of truth. I examine the ideologies that have gotten settled in my mind and tease out the contradictions. I also try to understand what it means to be human and what is the best way to live in harmony with the emotions and intentions that are within myself and others. I recognize the limitations of my own perspective and seek the advice of outside sources, but I don’t give absolute authority to anyone. Nature (or God if you like) has endowed me with the ability to discern truth for myself with my intellect and my heart. I’m sure my pioneer ancestors recognized this truth as well. They probably joined the Mormons because they recognized some truth that was in their teaching. They were probably not aware of the evidence against Jospeh Smith’s claims or of the misdeeds of him and other founders (and there were plenty), and they surely couldn’t have predicted what would become of it over the next two centuries. I imagine some of them would be quite appalled to see how different it is now, how it has become a corporation worth billions that produces no new revelations but continues to spout the same platitudes in order to maintain a status quo. The Mormonism they knew was more revolutionary, more alive and evolving. I can see why that appealed to them.

I may not be able to convince my living relatives that I haven’t sold my birthright for a mess of pottage, but I believe that I am continuing the legacy of my ancestors. It’s probably not in the way they envisioned, because their understanding of truth was different, but I can say with confidence that I too am a pioneer. I am not ashamed that I cast off the shackles of dogma and tradition to seek out God in the wilderness of doubt. I’ve embraced some new beliefs, some of which I might also discard if I discover they are false, but oh boy life is a real adventure when you don’t assume that somebody’s already figured it all out. I’m learning to appreciate the mystery in the universe. There are things that I feel are beyond my understanding and that’s ok. I’m just one human, one drop of consciousness in the ocean of existence.

I’m grateful for my ancestors’ courage and I’m even grateful for my childhood spent in the Mormon church. While so many people grow up isolated from their neighbors, I knew most of the people in my neighborhood by name and saw them often. We did all sorts of activities together that gave us a real sense of community. I had some very formative experiences in church meetings where I heard people share some of their most personal struggles and get support from those around them. I also had a good home environment and family, and while I can’t give all credit to the religion for that I know my parents would say it played a big part. That’s not to say that it was all good. The church’s teachings contributed to me developing a deep shame about my sexuality that still rears its ugly head now and then. It also prevented me from always expressing myself authentically and stunted my curiosity. I’ve seen it have much worse effect in others’ lives as well, which is why I ultimately believe its effect on the world is a net negative and I no longer wish to participate in it. But I can’t deny that it’s a part of my story. To wish that my ancestors hadn’t joined or that I had been born in a different religion would be to reject a part of myself and that I will not do. I choose to love myself, including the Mormon parts. The more distance I get from that chapter of my life, the less significant those parts seem, but I know that they’ll always be there. I hope that my fellow ex-Mormon pioneers can feel the same way. Healing will be found through acceptance of what was, taking from it what serves us and moving into the future with a grateful heart.

So to answer the original question: No, I have not betrayed my ancestors. Betraying them would mean to not live with integrity, to continue living with comfortable lies instead of searching for the truth. I’m no saint, but if there is one thing I value it is truth.