Lulz. No really though. I'm back. First a quick explanation. I am in a place where I can actually feel like I know where I'm sitting at the moment with regard to my faith.
Going through a faith transition is a funny thing. It messes you up. I still feel pretty messed up about it. I feel like I have gone through the first phase of my transition: The Shattering. Yes, the World of Warcraft reference is intentional. For those who are unfamiliar with WoW, the Shattering happened when a huge dragon that lived underground named Deathwing was so angry and nasty that he broke the Earth when he came to get all angry above ground. The entire planet literally shattered as he flew around the world. Seriously, just imagine a huge black dragon flying overhead and completely obliterating your home.
I feel like I am in the tail end of the Shattering right now. I'm not even in the rebuilding phase yet. I am in the phase where you just wander around the wreckage of your once glorious home. Gee, I sure wish this house would have been built better. I wish I would have known about its imperfections. At least I wouldn't have been so jarred when this all happened.
I have been wandering around the rubble if my former faith home for a while now. I see pieces of it that I pick up and hold close to me. I remember cherished, sacred events that I can't explain outside of my previous framework. As much as I would like to just bulldoze the entire lot and start building a new house from scratch, I can't. There are too many important parts of who I am in this rubble. What if I throw out something valuable? Something essential? Something irreplaceable?
I have become so disenfranchised with the functional church. Once, I believed in a prophet who spoke with God face-to-face today. I believed in a church that celebrated its history in an honest and upfront manner. I believed that the Church was the definitive source of moral guidance on the Earth today. I believed that the general authorities spoke for God, and that when they said that something was a sin, that meant that God was saying it.
But then I started to realize how messy everything is. Church history is full of stuff that will shake your testimony to the core. I keep coming back to how terribly messy everything is. The church is a mess and it always has been. The patriarchy is thick, and I have a serious problem with it. Most of all, members of the church are so sure of there place in the eternities that they've lost the wonder of it all. They're so worried about missionary work and being good little Mormons that they have forgotten about the search for truth. They think they know it all. They are so worried about saving the world from themselves (or themselves from the world) that they don't stop and just appreciate the journey. They don't try and learn from others. Heck, they don't even learn from the Spirit most of the time. They just "Follow the Prophet," and assume the thinking has been done once it's been said over the pulpit.
At the same time, I'm seeing the greatness of people and religions I never would have approached before my house was decimated. Meditation has been a very cool new part of my life, and I hope to make it an even bigger one. I am expanding my views on a number if different issues.
Yet here I stand, at the pieces of my house all around my feet. I am trying to figure out what pieces are worth salvaging. I am sorting through the rubble, piece-by-piece. I try to apply the principles taught in D&C, to study it out in my mind, and then make a decision. If something is said over the pulpit, I don't take their word for it anymore like I used to. I take it to meditation and prayer. Where appropriate, I do some personal exploration. However, I find myself every once in a while just sitting there in the debris, remembering how awesome my old house was. It made me feel safe. It made me feel warm, and protected. It provided me sustenance, and an anchor, and a support. Man, I sure loved living in that house.
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