Articulating pain frees up space in the mind or soul for gentler, kinder, more positive perspectives

It might sound a little clichéd that a men's council group got onto talking about fathers and fatherhood within the first few gatherings, but the experience and shared stories created a deeper sense of trust and connection.

I have felt a lighter, persistent positivity in the last four weeks since joining the circle council. I feel like my mind is clearer, like I'm able to engage with greater delight in tasks, experiences and relationships.

With that in mind, I felt sudden a rattle of agitation when our council leader, after we'd checked in, invited us to share our pain or joy of father relationships. As is consistent with council circle, we were to share our own story and avoid comment on each others. He also reminded us to listen from the heart to each other and speak spontaneously when our opportunity came.

I had to work had to apply these principles during the other members first few experiences because I felt a weight of the pain that I've tended to avoid acknowledging. The pain of the past is usually dealt with through attempted ambivalence and shelving frustrations. I pushed them from my mind to give attention to the other narratives, which were a mixture of positives and negatives.

The talking stone felt a little heavier than usual as I hefted it in my hand after it had been passed to me. I spoke in a passionate rush of frustration, disappointment and distance. I shed tears and spoke vehemently.

After an emotional few minutes of tirade and anxiety that I might cause the same hurt to my own children, I finished and listened to the other stories of both proximity and distance.

After each sharing our truth, we held hands in silence, eyes closed, acknowledging each others openness and honesty. A member of the group then offered a blessing of appreciation for our fathers, and in particular a recognition that we were loved by them; that despite our disillusion, that our fathers had acted with the best of intentions and that they had done their best with the abilities and limitations they brought with them.

As I'd been listening to the stories that came after mine I had felt a space open in my mind. As people spoke of the small acts, habits and characteristics of their fathers that they appreciated, I felt myself willing to be kinder, more generous.

We are taught to avoid the word "but" in our stories. When we express a perspective or experience and then say "but" to segue into the next section, we diminish or undermine that which has been said previous to it.

Instead, we say "and..."

After our moment of unity and acknowledgment, I took the opportunity to speak further and said:

"I am a fan of the saying, 'writing crystallises thought.' Perhaps speaking spontaneously, leanly and emotionally, to a trusted ear does the same thing. Everything that I said remains a reality and a definite experience. As I articulated my pain and allowed to bubble up out of me, it felt like I was freeing a space in my mind or spirit or soul... whatever you consider that consciousness to be. As I spoke my pain, I realised how emotional space it was occupying. Sharing it released it, or at least reduced it and freed up space for compassion and appreciation and a more positive perspective.

What I shared earlier is a truth... and... expressing them has made room to notice others. Who I am and what I appreciate about myself are, in part, things I can also take time to see and appreciate in my father.

He is, in ways, not self-conscious and doesn't worry what people think of him, a characteristic I deeply appreciate in myself.
He is willing to say sorry, an act I also value and can do comfortably.
I love to entertain an audience, a delight I also see in my father.
I have an appreciate for people, for diversity of cultures, for the earth, for nature, for art... which are all perspectives that I recognise in my father too."

As with previous weeks, I feel a deep and abiding peace.

Anger is a reaction to a deeper, potentially useful, feeling

The messy EU referendum results and political bickering in its wake has left me unsettled and angry. I've spent almost a week sniping and griping at any opportunity.

Yesterday, at circle council, I welcomed peace back into my mind and body. I woke this morning with that calming sense of well-being.

There was considerable talk last night about the referendum. A lot of us, myself included, expressed our anger at the result. We were angry, we felt divided from friends, family and fellow inhabitants who had voted Leave.

The campaigning has been ugly. The reaction to the vote, from some corners of society, uglier still. This wasn't about "losing" - I'm English, I'm used to losing - this was about a deeper sense of frustration.

As we took turns to listen deeply and with intent, I was reminded of a lesson I learned several years ago as I had been exploring my anger at other challenges. Anger is a reaction. We say "I feel angry" when we really mean "I am filled with anger" or "I am reacting with anger."

Instead of being the root of our emotion, anger is usually the reaction. Often we don't know what to do with anger, other than point it at other people. We're filled with anger, so we point it at others and try to empty ourselves of it. Unfortunately, the more we pour anger out on others, the more it seems to replenish and fill us.

As we spoke I questioned what this anger, this reaction, was being prompted by. In doing so, I identified a series of feelings:

Indignation. I'm indignant at what I perceive to be an injustice. I feel the wrong result was collectively reached by the UK. I feel indignant that people were duped into voting for something that was based on distortions and unrealistic promises. I feel indignant that certain individuals in leadership appear to have put their personal ambitions above the best interests of the people they serve.

Defensive. I'm feeling defensive of the many people who are being hurt by this decision. The fuse of racial segregation seems to have been lit. The "out" vote seems to have mobilised an ugly underbelly of racism. I want to protect those who are on the receiving end of it.

Confused. I'm confused at how so many millions of people could have reached a conclusion that seems so counter-intuitive. Given the vast volumes who voted leave, I'm sure there must be some among those voters who did so for deep, carefully-considered, well-intentioned motives. I'm sure there must be some... I just can't see them. So I'm confused at how so many could make such a wrong decision.

Having articulated those in the group, I felt a calming change of emotion. I didn't feel so angry any more. Instead I felt motivated. I don't know anything constructively to do with anger, but I do know what to do with the deeper feelings.

If I feel confused, I can seek understanding.
If I feel defensive, I can reach out and defend and protect.
If I feel indignant at injustice, I can work to right a wrong.

Rather than get stuck in a cycle of nonconstructive anger, I can channel the deeper feelings into "being the change" I hope for.

Finding peace in a new chapter in council

This has been a quiet blog for the two years since I stopped attending Mormon services.

Thursday this week, 16th, marked exactly two years since I wrote to family and my religious leader informing them of my decision to stop going.

In the two years since, I've found joy and delight in getting involved in community groups like a amateur drama group, a choir and helping at my son's football training. I've delighted in these experiences. They've been healing and invigorating.

In the midst of all that, I've continued feeling a sense of longing, a lack of peace, place and purpose. I've found myself questioning what the point of it all is. Life has felt meaningless.

Not only was Thursday exactly two years since breaking a spiritual connection, it was also perhaps the first day of starting a new one.

A friend at choir had invited me to join a "men's group." I accepted, in part out of curiosity, but more so because the invite he forwarded from the organiser spoke of something of substance and depth. This wasn't going to be idle chit-chat around a pint at the pub.

Despite my expectation of something of significance, I was unprepared for the evening. It was, initially, a little unnerving to experience something very different but, eventually, strangely familiar.

A council circle, I have since learned, has roots in Native American traditions. It has been lifted and adapted by, what I grew up calling, "new age hippies." In that sense, I felt like I was among friends, given my parents, along with some friends and nearby aunt and uncle were products of that culture.

A council circle in the UK seems to take inspiration from the Native American custom, but builds in other elements of old customs of the british isles such as old folk culture and paganism as well as hints of eastern philosophy.

Paganism (tan, tan, taaaaaaan) is a term, similar to "heathen," created by Abrahamic religions to act as a catch-all pejorative of "others." The Vikings were called pagans, the celts were too. In essence, it tends to mean pre-christian and usually has roots in ecological appreciation and connection with nature.

Anyway... I digress.

As human's we are naturally unsettled by new experiences. The brain has evolved to find safety in familiarity. For me, this was initially emotionally unsettling. I struggle meeting new people at the best of times, but the addition of an alien set of cultural icons, rituals and symbols was initially disconcerting.

I won't go into a lot of detail about what was said or done, because one of the foundations of council is confidentiality. It's also the sort of experience that has value in the Instead, I might use this blog from time to time to document how I feel and think in response to the experience.

And what I have felt, since Thursday, more than anything else, and for what feels the first time since 2014... is deep and calming peace.

Conclusions and changes

I wrote this letter to friends and family on 16th June 2014:

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I wanted to write to let you know of a recent conclusion I’ve reached.

I’ve decided to stop attending church. I’m aware of the sadness this will cause, and I’m sorry for being the source of pain, confusion or discomfort. I’ve held off making this decision, in large part, because of the effect it will have on the people, like you, who I consider to be among my closest friends and family. I hope that our friendship can remain strong.

I want to reassure you that this isn’t a knee-jerk or rushed decision. I’ve spent the last two years considering this question. Out of respect for my future, my family and for my upbringing, I didn’t want to rush into any conclusion. I wanted to explore all possibilities. I also want to reassure you that [wife’s name] has never tried to push me into doing this. One of the things that have made our relationship flourish and strengthen over the last 3-4 years is that we have both tried to show complete acceptance and respect for each other’s differing perspectives. We still do today. [Wife’s name] has never done anything to try to change my beliefs and I love her all the more for it.

Two years ago this month I decided that I wanted to fully explore the origins, foundation and implications of my faith. I decided to give myself 12 months to make sure no rash choices were made.

The 12 months became 15 and I returned to UK from China with a very different perspective on God, the world and my place and purpose within it. In October last year I’d almost decided to stop attending but, after the wonderful hand of friendship was extended by Elder Uchtdorf in conference and by my branch president, I chose to give it another chance; another 6 months of trying to find a balance between my new religious perspectives and also being an active and positive influence in my branch.

I accepted a calling as Branch Mission Leader and used it as an opportunity to study the gospel at ‘entry level.’ A chance to remind myself of the principles we teach our new members and children. I had hoped that this simple reconnection with the foundational teachings of the gospel would help me overcome my doubts and rekindle faith. Taking Elder Uchtdorf’s counsel, I doubted my doubts. I challenged them, I questioned them, and I tried to replace them with faith and application.

This reengagement with gospel study has been an immensely useful experience. It has helped me to retain a belief and hope in God. It has also helped me notice all of the things that I don’t believe any more. Week after week, while preparing the Gospel Principles lesson, I would work through material and have to juggle the content. Out of respect for the calling and the reasons the class members were attending, I tried to only use the words of the manuals, the scriptures and the prophets. In doing so I reached my current perspectives; a universalistic perspective where Mormonism’s exclusive claims were played down and our part in the great human family was emphasised.

In the end, it hasn’t been enough. Elder Uchtdorf’s olive branch is a small leaf in the great forest of absolutes. I recognise that ultimately the teachings in Mormonism depend on certain categorical claims. Faith in the things taught in the church stands or falls on those claims and I no longer have faith in them.

While I still have a hope in a divine influence and creator, I have no certainties. If I were to describe my religious perspectives today I’d probably say that I believe in collective individualism. I believe we are unified by our diversity. If there is a God, and I hope there is, I believe that he understands that individuality and diversity better than anyone else.

If there is a God, then I am comfortable with the idea that the divine is found in Mormonism but no more or less than it is found in other Christian and non-Christian faiths, philosophies and traditions. I believe that some of Mormonism’s leaders have, at times, been inspired by that divine influence –but not always and not any more frequently or with any more clarity than other philosophers and religious teachers around the world.

If there is a God, then I don’t believe that Mormonism has any stronger connection with him, nor do I believe the church is a “chosen” or “superior” organisation compared to other faith traditions.

If I had to put a label on my beliefs, I would probably call it “universalism.” It’s based on the foundation that we all really are “alike unto God” (2 Nep 26:33); that the most essential and fundamental principles of truth can be found in each nation and faith tradition. It takes the notion taught at church that many other people receive a “portion” of truth and then recognises that even Mormonism’s position of absolutes is only a similar, incomplete portion of divine guidance. In all of those incomplete perspectives, in seeing constantly through a “glass, darkly” we find a simple and consistent message: “prophecies... shall fail..., knowledge... shall vanish away” but “charity never faileth” (1 Cor 13:8-12). I believe that any religion or philosophy should be measured on how effectively it helps us embrace this single important principle of charity. It is perhaps the most consistent and divine principle that appears to permeate almost every faith tradition. All of our teachings, commandments, principles and ceremonies should be enablers to living against this essential teaching.

For a while I had wanted to try to be a “Mormon Universalist;” to live with my conclusions while still attending Mormon services. That desire was part of why I embraced my calling. To live in a way that was both true to my conclusions and respectful of the community and traditions of the people I associated with.

In the end, it’s hasn’t been possible. There is too big a gap between my perspectives and those taught in the church.

An earlier version of this letter included the detail of the things I no longer agree with or believe and why I started the process of investigation and evaluation at all. I’ve decided to not impose those on you. If you’re interested, let me know and I can send you the longer version with the detail included.

I recognise that you, and many of my friends and family, might worry about me being deceived or misguided.

All I can say is that I don’t believe I am. I’ve prayed and pondered over these conclusions and their implications. I’ve spent more time on this question than any other in my entire life. I recognise the seriousness of the implications of my faith transition. I realise that if Mormonism’s absolutes are right then I’m moving away from something essential. I simply don’t believe those absolutes. If there is a God who answers prayers, and my past experiences encourage me to believe that there is and that he does, then he has also answered my prayer. If my previous spiritual experiences are reasonable a basis for making life decisions, then the experience I had earlier this year while praying in the Celestial room at the Temple should also be an adequate basis for making the decision to move away from full activity within Mormonism.

I know I will miss the weekly experience of meeting with the Mormon community. I will also miss going to the Temple. I still consider that to be a “sacred space” and to be an environment for learning about my place in the world and my relationship with the divine. I’m sad that my conclusions mean that I won’t be able to attend but also respect the church’s reasons for expecting certain standards for going there.

I have no desire to shake your faith. I don’t want to undermine the church or people’s attendance there. I have no certainties or absolutes, so with that in mind I recognise that your beliefs might still be right – or, at the very least, right for you. The God that I believe in, or hope for, is one that celebrates and accepts all of humanity’s commitments and religious dedication – as long as it leads them to be better people and to be of service to the their fellow human beings.

Please feel free to ask me any questions you might have. I understand that this will cause you concern. I appreciate your care and sincerity in feeling that way. Please don’t feel like you need to rescue me or correct my conclusions. At the same time, if you feel you’d like to share your perspectives or express your concerns about my choices then I am willing to listen. I recognise that this might make you feel uncomfortable or awkward around me. Like I said at the start, I really hope we’re still able to maintain a friendship and good relationship.

What is life's priority... Is it knowing or loving God... and is either really possible?

I recently read an article by Dan Peterson, "Reason, Experience, and the Existence of God."

In the article he addresses the question of how to come to know and love God. In doing he juxtaposes two answers to the question: "what is our first duty" or "what is the greatest commandment"

Is it:

"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself."

Or is our first duty to God:

"Speculative reasoning which leads to knowledge of God, because He is not known intuitively or by the senses. Thus, He must be known by reflection and speculation."

Who or what is God? If the first priority is to love God and if God is not currently self-evident then the first priority is to know who it is you need to love. Put another way, someone might say that in a marriage, loving your spouse is your first priority. If you're not yet married then it clearly isn't. Your first task is finding and knowing that spouse before you can love them. So too with loving God.

The two questions above aren't really an either/or proposition. Clearly we need to conclude who God is before we can consider loving God. Whether through logic or intuition, religion invites us to know God. While many religions teach that God is a multifaceted being it seems people discover him/her/it/them in many ways, or rather only discover certain aspects or facets of him (for convenience, I'll stick with 'him').

Whether he chooses the particular aspects of himself that he wants us to discover or whether we simply select characteristics to build gods in our own image is still a question I don't have a conclusive answer to. Ultimately, it seems that neither logic nor intuition is an effective method for knowing the "true" nature of God because the process leads to so many 1000s of contradictory definitions, certainties and conclusions. To take one simple and relatively non-confrontational example, does God a body or not? He can't have both a body and not have a body. It must be one or the other. Whichever it is, millions of sincere truth seekers have used both or either logic and to reach conclusions that are in opposition. Both methods are proven unreliable by nature of the fact that both methods lead to contradictory conclusions.

Instead, it seems to me, that either logic or intuition only provide the "useful" picture or description of God. Perhaps, when we come to know and love God, we are really being guided, by ourselves or by God, to love something in or about ourselves.

Some of the interesting conclusions in the book 'How God changes your brain' is that how you see God activates or rewards certain parts of your brain, depending on your perception of him (or her/it/them). The authors' theory suggests to me that an influence on how we see God is from how we are predisposed to see him. In other words, the part of our brain that is most active or most seeking to be activated could be having an influence in how we ultimately perceive and then love God. Perhaps we are really learning to love an aspect of ourselves. I'm not saying that's a solely organic, internal process. It's quite possibly being guided by a divine external influence.

Whichever it is, it seems that neither logic nor intuition ultimately take us to a state of really "knowing" and instead guides us to state of "being." Given the fruit of "being" is widely and vastly different I return to my conclusion that the exploration of "who is God," through logic or intuition leads is to that which is useful, not that which is established to be true.

As such, the rest of the article seems a little redundant. It's arguing between two methods of "knowing" despite the fact that neither method can demonstrably lead to an absolute knowledge of what is absolutely true. It can lead to personal certainty, which we might describe as knowledge, but it really, at best, only leads to certainty.

I don't agree with Qadi ‘Abd al-Jabbar that, "Knowledge of God can only be gained by speculation with rational argument" But I'm not sure that intuition is a more effective alternative.

Talking of intuition, or revelation, as a source for knowing Dan Peterson says, "...even if we doubt that such a revelation has ever actually been received by anybody anywhere, we can easily conceive (at least in principle) of a divine self-disclosure so powerful that it would eliminate all doubt and essentially, at least for the recipient herself, render further intellectual investigation of the question of God’s existence rather frivolous."

The key to this statement is: "at least for the recipient." The experience of Blaise Pascal coming to know God is beautifully articulated: "Certitude, certitude, feeling, joy, peace."

This is really the crux of the matter. Coming to know God, particularly coming to know him through intuition, is not a matter of knowing, it's a matter of reaching personal certitude and personal peace.

Peterson goes on to give some good arguments for intuition or spiritual revelation being a far better source of knowing God than logic and reason. If a choice has to be made between the two, I can agree that intuition is a better way of coming to an understanding or conclusion of who God is and how we should love him. Logic and reason alone don't seem to be a viable way of coming to know something or someone that is so intangible and uncertain. But that doesn't mean that God should be illogical and unreasonable.

C.S. Lewis is quoted as asking, "...are we sure that He is even interested in the kind of Theism which would be a compelled logical assent to a conclusive argument?" Firstly, I would paraphrase Lewis to ask the question, "... are we sure that He is...?" If one answers "Yes," "I think so" or even "I hope so" then it would be nice to think that this conclusion of God was also logical.

I agree with Peterson's conclusion that "(r)evelation... should never be detached from rationality." I don't, however, see that even the combination of these approaches leads to anything conclusive beyond a personal perspective.

Peterson talks of the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Life (SETI) and the desire to receive radio signals for a third party source to prove, conclusively, that we are not alone in the universe. Receiving such a radio signal would prove the existence of extra-terrestrial life. "Just as," Peterson suggests, "an unmistakable revelation directly from God would render every debate about his existence moot."

This is an unfair comparison. A radio signal could be examined and tested by multiple third parties. There would be a single transmission with multiple opportunities to evaluate it and examine it. Not so with "unmistakable revelation directly from God." There are 1000s of examples of people claiming this... and yet no-one has yet produced a revelation from God that is truly unmistakable. No-one has offered a revelation that can be evaluated and examined under consistent circumstances by a third party.

Here are seven different examples of religious "radio transmissions." They are first quoted with the religious cues removed. Later they are quoted without redaction, but I think it's important to first read them without knowing the religion, scripture or deity they "know" the truth of:

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1) "I asked <DEITY NAME> for a sign to show that the <RELIGION NAME> has the whole truth...
One day, I was sitting under a tree, thinking deeply. I was trying to recall some <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE> verses on <DOCTRINE> and praying about a doubt that I had. Suddenly, a miracle happened to me. It was like a light that I could not exactly figure out. It shone on me and took away the doubt in my mind. It seemed that the darkness in my mind was lifted. The <DOCTRINE>, which I could not at first accept, suddenly became very clear me. I could then accept it with my mind and heart. Since that incident, each time I read the <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>, that former opinion to oppose and the refusal to believe and accept were gone. Today I believe <DOCTRINE>.
...Now I know and am confident that this is the end of my search for the whole truth. I thank <DEITY NAME> for answering my prayer and giving me a sign. I have found the whole truth of my <RELIGIOUS OBJECTIVE>. Glory be given to <DEITY NAME>. <RELIGIOUS EXPRESSION>!!" 

2) "I had the feeling of waking up, as if all my previous life I had been asleep. The printed words on the page of the book seemed like the surface of a vast and fathomless ocean of truth and wisdom. Whatever it was, I knew that it was completely true and infallible. Therefore the author must also be true and infallible. The <DESCRIPTOR> book, which I still have, was <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>." 

3) "In mid-August of 1969, I humbly knelt in the shadows behind my barracks and prayed. I told <DEITY NAME> that I had read the book that <RELIGION NAME> say is from Him. I admitted that there were some good things in it and that I wanted to know if it was true.
I closed my prayer in <DEITY NAME>. No sooner had I done so than I received the most powerful witness that I have ever experienced. It was not the answer I was seeking. But I had asked, and now I knew. <RELIGION NAME> was the only true church on the earth! I knew it; <RELIGIOUS EXPRESSION>."

4) "I will never forget <RELIGIOUS PRACTICE>. At 17 I read <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>. But not only did I read it I thought about it's beautiful teachings of <DEITY NAME>. I then prayed sincerely to <DEITY NAME>. I asked him for that confirmation that <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE> was true. I will never forget the sweet, humbling answer that came. I knew <DEITY NAME> loved me and I knew that Yes <DOCTRINE>.  ...<DOCTRINE>. <DOCTRINE>, it's tangible. It's for everyone!  ...My testimony is real. It's mine, I have forged it out of the fire. It makes me really happy!!" 

5) "After months of study and research I could not deny the truth anymore. I had put it off too long, but was still living the life I had before, and knew that if I became a <RELIGION NAME> I had to give all that up. One day while reading <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>, I began to cry and fell to my knees and thanked <DEITY NAME> for guiding me to the truth. I found out that there was a <RELIGIOUS BUILDING> by my house so I went one <RELIGIOUS DAY> to see how <RELIGION NAME> prayed and conducted their service... A man got up and began to <PRAY>. When I heard it my eyes filled up with tears because it sounded so beautiful. It was all so strange at first, but seemed so right at the same time. <RELIGION NAME> is not just a religion but a way of life." 

6) "As I was skeptical of anything other than the Bible, time passed before I actually began reading <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>...  I began with <SECTION OF BOOK OF SCRIPTURE> and quickly read to where <DOCTRINE>. I was blown away. I had never heard of the things I was reading; I didn't even know that <DOCTRINE>. I already knew and loved <DESCRIPTION OF DEITY>, but through <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE> I began to fall in love with <DESCRIPTION OF DEITY>. Still, I was not convinced that <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE> was really true; I fought with my old mental tapes regarding the infallibility of the Bible - 'Thou shalt not add to...,' etc. My old beliefs were being challenged.
I put <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE> down for several months, and then a devastating thing happened. My father died in a truck/train accident on May 1, 1980. After the initial shock and grief, I was angry that <DEITY NAME> would take my father at this time of his life; he hadn't even been able to retire! Then I started reading <SECTION OF BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>. The peace I felt after reading them convinced me that the teachings in the book were genuine. They were too beautiful to be anything else.
Since then I have grown enough in understanding to realize that <DOCTRINE ABOUT DEITY NAME>. I know that my earthly father's soul <AFTERLIFE DOCTRINE>. I need not worry about his salvation. Most comforting of all, I believe that as soon as I get to <AFTERLIFE NAME> I shall see my father in person." 

7) "She told me she had come across a book that I might like, though she herself could not understand it.  [the friend tells of <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>'s divine origin]  ...Something inside me knew that was true and I wrote down the name of the book... 

I found myself thinking about <DEITY NAME> and what little time I had given to learning about him. Suddenly, the room was filled with a warm and glowing light. I felt so strange, as if I had received the gift of faith right at that moment, as if I had been 'born again.'

...I came home and had such tremendous urges - to read <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>, to join a church, to learn everything I could. I called different churches at random, went to the library, and got some books on <RELIGIOUS LEADER>, <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>, world religions, <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>, even <BOOK OF SCRIPTURE>.
That same day I called <RELIGIOUS CONTACT> and told him how I felt. He suggested I read <RELIGIOUS SCRIPTURE> but to start with <SECTION OF BOOK OF SCRIPTURE> this time. I read for about five hours without stopping and <RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE> I knew that every word I was reading was the truth. It was exciting to finally believe in something, to have faith in <DEITY NAME>!"

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I wonder how many people could read those and identify the religious scriptures and "radio signals" that delivered those experiences and certainties? Certain expressions, even after redacting, might sound familiar to a practiotioner of one religion or another. We naturally develop certain idioms that are recognisable. Outside of those, the overall conclusions and experiences, from multiple different religious practices, seem very consistent.

Before reading on, try to compare whether the personal "radio signals" are significantly different in method or conclusion.

Here are the quotes in full:

1) "I asked the Lord Jesus Christ for a sign to show that the True Jesus Church has the whole truth...
One day, I was sitting under a tree, thinking deeply. I was trying to recall some Bible verses on baptism and praying about a doubt that I had. Suddenly, a miracle happened to me. It was like a light that I could not exactly figure out. It shone on me and took away the doubt in my mind. It seemed that the darkness in my mind was lifted. The doctrine on infant baptism, which I could not at first accept, suddenly became very clear me. I could then accept it with my mind and heart. Since that incident, each time I read the Bible, that former opinion to oppose and the refusal to believe and accept were gone. Today I believe that infants must be baptized in order to be saved.
...Now I know and am confident that this is the end of my search for the whole truth. I thank the Lord Jesus Christ for answering my prayer and giving me a sign. I have found the whole truth of my salvation. Glory be given to the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Hallelujah!!"
Religion: True Jesus Church (Source) 

2)"I had the feeling of waking up, as if all my previous life I had been asleep. The printed words on the page of the book seemed like the surface of a vast and fathomless ocean of truth and wisdom. Whatever it was, I knew that it was completely true and infallible. Therefore the author must also be true and infallible. The small red book, which I still have, was The Hidden Words."
Religion: Baha'i (Source)  

3) "In mid-August of 1969, I humbly knelt in the shadows behind my barracks and prayed. I told God that I had read the book that Latter-day Saints say is from Him. I admitted that there were some good things in it and that I wanted to know if it was true.
I closed my prayer in the Savior’s name. No sooner had I done so than I received the most powerful witness that I have ever experienced. It was not the answer I was seeking. But I had asked, and now I knew. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the only true church on the earth! I knew it; I dared not deny it."
Religion: LDS (Source) 

4) "I will never forget putting Moroni's challenge to the test. At 17 I read the Book of Mormon. But not only did I read it I thought about it's beautiful teachings of the Savior. I then prayed sincerely to my Heavenly Father. I asked him for that confirmation that the Book of Mormon was true. I will never forget the sweet, humbling answer that came. I knew my Heavenly Father loved me and I knew that Yes I can live with my family forever.  ...I have a Savior. Forgiveness is real, it's tangible. It' for everyone!  ...My testimony is real. It's mine, I have forged it out of the fire. It makes me really happy!!"
Religion: LDS (Source) 

 5) "After months of study and research I could not deny the truth anymore. I had put it off too long, but was still living the life I had before, and knew that if I became a Muslim I had to give all that up. One day while reading the Qur'an, I began to cry and fell to my knees and thanked Allah for guiding me to the truth. I found out that there was a Mosque by my house so I went one Friday to see how Muslims prayed and conducted their service... A man got up and began to call the Adthan (call for prayer). When I heard it my eyes filled up with tears because it sounded so beautiful. It was all so strange at first, but seemed so right at the same time. Islam is not just a religion but a way of life."
Religion: Islam (Source)

6) "As I was skeptical of anything other than the Bible, time passed before I actually began reading The Urantia Book...  I began with 'The Life and Teachings of Jesus,' and quickly read to where Jesus had reached the age of 23. I was blown away. I had never heard of the things I was reading; I didn't even know that Jesus had brothers and sisters. I already knew and loved the divine Jesus, the Son of God, but through The Urantia Book I began to fall in love with the human Jesus, the Son of Man. Still, I was not convinced that The Urantia Book was really true; I fought with my old mental tapes regarding the infallibility of the Bible - 'Thou shalt not add to...,' etc. My old beliefs were being challenged.
I put The Urantia Book down for several months, and then a devastating thing happened. My father died in a truck/train accident on May 1, 1980. After the initial shock and grief, I was angry that God would take my father at this time of his life; he hadn't even been able to retire! Then I started reading the mansion world papers. The peace I felt after reading them convinced me that the teachings in the book were genuine. They were too beautiful to be anything else.
Since then I have grown enough in understanding to realize that God does not take our loved ones, that the accidents of time just happen. I know that my earthly father's soul had plenty of 'mercy credits'. I need not worry about his salvation. Most comforting of all, I believe that as soon as I get to the mansion worlds I shall see my father in person."
Religion: Uranthian (Source)  

7) "She told me she had come across a book that I might like, though she herself could not understand it.  [the friend tells of the Urantia Book's divine origin]  ...Something inside me knew that was true and I wrote down the name of the book...
 I found myself thinking about God and what little time I had given to learning about him. Suddenly, the room was filled with a warm and glowing light. I felt so strange, as if I had received the gift of faith right at that moment, as if I had been 'born again.'
...I came home and had such tremendous urges - to read The Bible, to join a church, to learn everything I could. I called different churches at random, went to the library, and got some books on Edgar Cayce, the Dead Sea Scrolls, world religions, The Koran, even The Talmud.
That same day I called Mr. Dychko and told him how I felt. He suggested I read The Urantia Book but to start with the Jesus section this time. I read for about five hours without stopping and my Thought Adjuster must have responded because I knew that every word I was reading was the truth. It was exciting to finally believe in something, to have faith in God!"
Religion: Uranthian (Source) 

All of the above are seven of several hundred personal testimonies from dozens of different faiths collected on Testimonies of Other Faiths.

While all of those divine "radio transmission" have lead the individual to a level of certainty, none of them are conclusive beyond the recipient. If God is the source of all of those radio transmissions, then apparently he is comfortable telling people contradictory messages. He his happy teaching truth and untruth. If some of those transmissions are correct and the others are simply personal, but not divine, experiences, then whole method is flawed. Peterson claims that "certainly an indubitable and spectacular revelation would obviate the need for secular, rational proofs." Unfortunately religion, in its entire multi-millennial history, has never produced an "indubitable" transmission. It may be that the "recipient of that revelation" feel an absolute certainty - enough to entirely remove personal doubt but it bears no resemblance to a true radio signal that can be experienced and evaluated under the same circumstances by multiple different people.

In the end, knowing God and therefore loving God, becomes an entirely subjective and personal experience. Whether that understanding and therefore love of God comes through logical or intuitive methods seems immaterial.

Perhaps the whole question of knowing and loving God becomes such a subjective and intangible pursuit that it gets in the way of the second advice in Jesus' commandment - loving ones neighbour. Perhaps it's even more difficult if that neighbour's process of reaching a conclusion about God leads to such a strongly contradictory conclusion that loving the neighbour becomes difficult. Perhaps, in the end, discovering the best way to know and love humanity has far greater merit than the unreliable pursuit of creating an intangible and often contradictory image of God.

All are alike unto God - finding unity in diversity

When Samuel was asked to go and anoint the future king from among Jesse’s sons he looked at them and made certain assumptions. (Sam 16:7) “But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature… for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.”

Sister Chieko Okazaki was first counselor on the Relief Society General Presidency during the 1990s. In one talk in 1992 she said: 

“I’d like to teach you an important Japanese word. It’s kigatsuku.  

Kigatsuku means “an inner spirit to act without being told what to do.” …When I was just a little girl, my mother began teaching me to be kigatsuku. When she swept the floor, she would say, “Chieko, what would a kigatsuku girl do now?” Then I’d run and get the dustpan…  

(W)e can do great good when we act as an organized group… we can do great good when we act in small, informal groups… (and) we can do great good on our own—just as individuals who care enough to serve… It is the desire in individual hearts that powers not only small, individual acts of service, but also the great acts that become mass movements and even revolutions. You have that power, too.  

Are you sitting on a mat or on a polished bench? Are you wearing a sari or a three-piece suit? Are you hearing me in English or in Tagalog? It doesn’t matter. Hear the words of my heart. Feel the power that can come from your own desire to do good!

There are many ways to serve. Today I would like to talk on the service of acceptance, respect and fellowship:

In the October 2013 General Conference, Elder Gérald Caussé said:

The world in which we live is going through a period of great upheaval. Because of the increased availability of transportation, speed of communication, and globalization of economies, the earth is becoming one large village where people and nations meet, connect, and intermingle like never before… 

It is very likely that the next person converted to the gospel in your ward will be someone who does not come from your usual circle of friends and acquaintances. You may note this by his or her appearance, language, manner of dress, or color of skin. This person may have grown up in another religion, with a different background or a different lifestyle.

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin spoke, in April 2008, of some people who stop attending church because they don’t feel like they have a place or fit in.

Some are lost because they are different. They feel as though they don’t belong. 

Perhaps because they are different, they find themselves slipping away from the flock. They may look, act, think, and speak differently than those around them and that sometimes causes them to assume they don’t fit in. They conclude that they are not needed.  

Tied to this misconception is the erroneous belief that all members of the Church should look, talk, and be alike. The Lord did not people the earth with a vibrant orchestra of personalities only to value the piccolos of the world. Every instrument is precious and adds to the complex beauty of the symphony. All of Heavenly Father’s children are different in some degree, yet each has his (or her) own beautiful sound that adds depth and richness to the whole.  

This variety of creation itself is a testament of how the Lord values all His children. He does not esteem one flesh above another, but He “inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; … all are alike unto God.”

Elder Uchtdorf has spoken many times about the importance of respecting each other and accepting one another. Perhaps he does so because he understands, because of his background and upbringing, what it feels like to be the outsider, the one who is being side-lined.

In April 2010 he said: 

“Unfortunately, from time to time we also hear of Church members who become discouraged and subsequently quit coming to and participating in our Church meetings because they think they don’t fit in.”

As a refugee from East Germany moving to West Germany after the second world war he was very aware of being different. He says:

When I was a young boy, during the aftermath of World War II, Germany was broken and in ruins. Many people were hungry, sick, and dying. I remember well the humanitarian shipments of food and clothing that came from the Church in Salt Lake City. To this day, I can still remember the smell of the clothing, and I can still taste the sweetness of the canned peaches.
There were some who joined the Church because of the goods they received at that time. Some members looked down on these new converts. They even called them an offensive name: Büchsen Mormonen, or “Canned-Food Mormons.” They resented these new members because they believed that once their temporal needs had been met, they would fall away.
While some did leave, many stayed—they came to church, tasted the sweetness of the gospel, and felt the tender embrace of caring brothers and sisters. They discovered “home.” And now, three and four generations later, many families trace their Church membership back to these converts.
I hope that we welcome and love all of God’s children, including those who might dress, look, speak, or just do things differently. It is not good to make others feel as though they are deficient. Let us lift those around us. Let us extend a welcoming hand. Let us bestow upon our brothers and sisters in the Church a special measure of humanity, compassion, and charity so that they feel, at long last, they have finally found home.

We are all different. We are all individuals. I revel in the reality of our diversity. But I also celebrate the underlying similarities of our values, our goals and desires. Most of the people in the world, whatever their faith tradition, want to be happy, to be comfortable, to have friendship, to better themselves and to help better others.

Elder Uchtdorf also said in April 2012:

This topic of judging others could actually be taught in a two-word sermon. When it comes to hating, gossiping, ignoring, ridiculing, holding grudges, or wanting to cause harm, please apply the following:
Stop it!
It’s that simple. We simply have to stop judging others and replace judgmental thoughts and feelings with a heart full of love for God and His children. God is our Father. We are His children. We are all brothers and sisters. I don’t know exactly how to articulate this point of not judging others with sufficient eloquence, passion, and persuasion to make it stick. I can quote scripture, I can try to expound doctrine, and I will even quote a bumper sticker I recently saw. It was attached to the back of a car whose driver appeared to be a little rough around the edges, but the words on the sticker taught an insightful lesson. It read, “Don’t judge me because I sin differently than you.”

Elder Uchtdorf’s advice could also be rephrased as: “Don’t judge me because I act differently than you… or because I dress differently, speak differently, live differently, work differently, vote differently, pray and worship differently.”

I’d like to share two experiences of learning the importance of not making judgement. Many years ago, serving a mission in Belgium, I was walking with my companion back to our apartment. Walking towards us in the opposite direction was a disheveled man. He wore dirty clothes and shoes that had so many holes they might as well have been three steps behind him. His beard and hair was messy and stretched down below his shoulders.

I felt a strong impression that I should speak to him. My instant reaction was, “don’t be silly, he’s probably homeless and will more likely than not ask you for money to feed his habit.” Again came the impression, as we drew closer, to speak to him. Again I rationalised it away, “he won’t be interested, the gospel’s not for people like him.” Finally as we were a few steps apart and about to cross, I stopped ignoring the nagging thought to speak to him and blurted out: “Bonjour monsieur, comment ca va?” He stopped and we started speaking. His name was Arthur. We asked if we could visit him later that day to share a message about Jesus Christ. He gave us his address and we went over later that day. Arthur accepted the gospel and was baptised within 4 weeks. The day before finishing my mission I heard that he was serving as the Branch Mission Leader. The story has a memorable ending, but even if his response to my initial greeting had been “non merci,” I hope it would still have reminded me to not judge by the outward appearance.

More recently, I was teaching a class at church. A man who I didn’t know sat in the corner quietly. He was wearing jeans, trainers and a hoody. He said very little during the lesson and I made some unreasonable assumptions.

Towards the end of the lesson I asked the class how the principles of the gospel positively affected their lives. He looked up and caught my eye so I invited him to share his thoughts. He said: “I was in prison not long ago. I had made some bad choices and deserved to be in there. When I got out I was determined to make my life better and to avoid the negative influences that had got me into bad situations the first time round. I’ve moved to another town and have been meeting with the missionaries. When they teach me I feel hope that I can change permanently. Coming to church helps me be with people who can be a positive influence.”

I felt humbled and a gently rebuked. This was a living example of the blessings of the gospel. The Gospel is uplifting and healing. We should accept people into our community and share the gospel with them whatever their background, experiences or appearance.

Elder Caussé’s advice on acceptance and welcoming the stranger concluded with the following:

“…reach out to anyone who appears at the doors of your Church buildings. Welcome them with gratitude and without prejudice. If people you do not know walk into one of your meetings, greet them warmly and invite them to sit with you. Please make the first move to help them feel welcome and loved, rather than waiting for them to come to you.
…During His earthly ministry, Jesus was an example of one who went far beyond the simple obligation of hospitality and tolerance. Those who were excluded from society, those who were rejected and considered to be impure by the self-righteous, were given His compassion and respect. They received an equal part of His teachings and ministry.  

For example, the Savior went against the established customs of His time to address the woman of Samaria, asking her for some water. He sat down to eat with publicans and tax collectors. He didn’t hesitate to approach the leper, to touch him and heal him. Admiring the faith of the Roman centurion, He said to the crowd, “Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.” 

…I bear witness that no one is a stranger to our Heavenly Father. There is no one whose soul is not precious to Him. With Peter, I testify that “God is no respecter of persons: but in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.”

The Saviour set the example with his compassion. How would it feel to be the recipient of the Saviour’s compassion, generosity, kindness and non-judgemental attitude? 

In Luke 5 we read the famous story about the man with the palsy being lowered through the roof. Because of the traditions of the day, some of the people in the house and perhaps the man himself would have made the assumption that his sickness was a punishment for his sins or the sins of his parents. Jesus turned to him and said: “Son, thy sins are forgiven thee.” He showed complete acceptance and the charity of seeing beyond the assumptions of the day. Considering this is what motivates me to try to apply these principles more consistently in my attitudes about others.

To conclude again with the words of Nephi in 2 Nep 26:33: 

(The Lord)… doeth that which is good among the children of men; and he doeth nothing save it be plain unto the children of men; and he inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female… and all are alike unto God

Believe what you like, but keep it to yourself

I read this quote today and initially I liked it. The more I consider it however, the less it seems to work.

A member, at any given time, may not understand one point of doctrine or another, may have a misconception, or even believe something is true that in fact is false. 

There is not much danger in that. That is an inevitable part of learning the gospel. No member of the Church should be embarrassed at the need to repent of a false notion he might have believed. Such ideas are corrected as one grows in light and knowledge. 

It is not the belief in a false notion that is the problem; it is the teaching of it to others. In the Church we have the agency to believe whatever we want to believe about whatever we want to believe. But we are not authorized to teach it to others as truth."

Boyd K. Packer
https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1985/04/from-such-turn-away?lang=eng&country=gb

I welcome the principle that an apostle is happy for members to "believe whatever we want to believe." But he seems to tell us to keep it to ourselves.

Tow the party line, keep silent, support the consensus.

I sat in testimony meeting today. I wanted to share my true beliefs about the nature of God, the nature of prophetic revelation and the role of the church within the great human family. I wanted to share the deep and meaningful experiences I'd had in coming to those conclusions. But I knew they would not be welcome. While other could teach things as principles of truth because they resonated with the attending majority, my minority perspective, that doesn't align with the correlated manuals and church teaching is not to be shared.

I still got up and made only vague references. I spoke of the positive experience of attending the temple, understanding the importance of developing a personal relationship with God and receiving answers in the temple to questions and concerns whose implications I had feared but afterwards felt complete peace about. I felt the love of God and the enrichment of the Saviour's atonement.

That message was welcome. People smiled and nodded and felt the affirmation of another person confirming what they were already convinced of. One or two people thanked me for my testimony after the meeting.

Had I given greater detail I wonder whether the same reaction would have happened? I could have said I was grateful for temple attendance and answered prayers because doing so had led me to, what I consider, a divinely guided conclusion that the church is not the "only true church." That when most prophets speak, they do not speak as if God were speaking. That they often, but not always, speak good and inspiring words influenced by their scriptures, their culture, their environment and the words of other leaders. That they are able to receive the same type of divine guidance anyone else does, but not an exclusive or special communication channel with the heavens. They see through the same glass darkly as we all do and that their teachings are coloured by that glass.

I could have said that I believe in a God cares how we treat each other and how we're trying to become more godlike, but does not care what we wear, what we eat and drink, what causes we give our time and money to or who we marry... as long as those chosen behaviours uplift us and others. I could have said that black or white, male or female, straight or gay are the same in God's eyes... God sees us all as equals and is happy for each to be treated as such. That there is truth found throughout cultures and philosophies and that our gospel "fullness" was only as full as our ability to be filled and that fulfillment (or full-filled-ment) could come from many sources.

All of that are things I believe and, apparently, Elder Packer is happy for me to believe that. He just doesn't want me to share it with others, even though I believe it to be true.

I tried to suggest to a Mormon friend recently that answers came to people in different ways. That some people, like my wife, could ask for Mormon answers for years and not receive a clear answer. That the Mormon description of God and life's purpose was not satisfying or useful for all of His children. That there are many answers that equally allow people to fulfill their purpose and potential. He was adamant I was wrong. He suggested that it was not the church that was lacking but that instead it was the person who was asking in the wrong way or was not living worthy to receive the answers. When I pointed out that he was describing my wife in that broad and condemning brush stroke he acknowledged he was.

My heart hurts and I continue to feel the gap between Mormonism and me to widen. Sitting in church today felt like an endurance, not an enlightenment. The hours I spent yesterday with family, followed by cycling through country lanes and nature's beauty was far more inspiring and uplifting than the hour of testimony meeting.

I've often talked of Mormonism being like a ship that needs gradual correction. That it's better to accept slow change, by degree in order to avoid the boat capsizing or people being people tipped over the side rails. Unfortunately the slow progress of church change, couple with the rapid pace of my shifting perspectives, means there might soon be another "man overboard." Not because of the jolt of hitting an iceberg, but voluntarily jumping to swim to another shore or passing vessel.