A Mormon Monster

Habakkuk — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 19:30:59 +0000

It’s not like I wanted to be a monster. Often one arrives here unwillingly, organically. In my case, I served an LDS mission among evangelical Christians and found their critiques of my tradition fairly easy to fend off. At some point in my early twenties I wanted to become a “servant of my Father in Heaven” by becoming a competent defender of my tradition. Unfortunately, in Mormonism, as one ties down one loose end, five more pop up in the process. For me, as the years rolled by and I studied more and more, the tapestry of my tradition didn’t just unravel—it dissolved.

So here I sit, not really wanting to be an outsider in my LDS tradition, but not really able to sit through Sunday School and just nod along with some of the extraordinary concepts that are pitched. Neighbor kids aren’t allowed to play with my kids, or they have become “projects” to them. To my Mormon neighbors, I smell different, look different; I’m not one of them anymore. In short, I’ve become the Monster next door. And there is no going back. It is like what Community of Christ historian and author Paul Edwards once wrote:

What I’m talking about is knowledge. Knowledge is lived, not forgiven. … It’s an old Druid idea but an interesting one … Knowledge can’t be forgiven. We can be forgiven for our deeds, maybe for our thoughts. But once you know something, there’s no forgiveness because there’s no unknowing

Once we know something, there is little use in looking back. We can’t undo the past; we can’t wipe our minds of what we discover. And out of the ashes comes our new reality. For me, out of this new reality comes a question. How do I accept being a monster in the tradition that nurtured me in my youth? And can I fully untangle myself from its threads without damaging them for others.

Mormon Monsters » Habakkuk

A Mormon Monster