Not A Memoir - Doubt Your Doubts

I had my first doubts about Mormonism at seven years old. 

Mostly, these were spurred by the first big decision in a young Mormon’s life: the decision to get baptized. 

Mormons like to boast that unlike some religions, like Catholicism, they don’t baptize babies. No, they give their members consent by waiting until they are old enough to truly make that decision. 

Eight years old. 

Oh yes. Every eight year old I know is very prepared to make life binding decisions. 

And let’s not pretend it’s actually a choice. Mormon kids are steeped in indoctrination from the moment they’re born. The Church instructs households to have daily scripture study and prayer, and weekly lessons called Family Home Evening, where parents teach their children about the doctrine. 

And that doesn’t include the three, I repeat THREE hours of church services on Sundays.*

Let’s face it. That level of constant indoctrination starting at such a young age robs children of the supposed ‘choice’ to be baptized or not. And that’s before taking family pressure into consideration. 

What eight year old is going to feel comfortable saying ‘No, thanks,’ to being baptized into their family’s religion? What would that look like, practically? 

That question plagued seven-year-old-me.

Despite all the early and intense indoctrination, I treated the decision whether to be baptized or not very seriously. I was hung up on a few things: 

1. Was the Church really true? 

I heard the same refrain in all of my church classes. ‘This is the One True Church.’ ‘There’s no other true church on Earth.’ ‘Everything else is wrong.’ 

But, sitting with all the other 5-12 year olds, listening to these reassurances, I was confused. 

‘Everyone believes their church is the right one,’ I clearly remember thinking. ‘So if everyone thinks theirs is right, how do I know MINE is right?’

Looking back, I have a funny feeling that the other kids weren’t having these same questions. Hell, just by teaching it, I’m pretty sure the adults hadn’t really thought about it, either. 

So, for weeks, I spent each Sunday sitting in the pew, passing notes back and forth with my dad, because of course he would have all the answers. 

‘What other churches are there?’

‘What do Catholic people believe?’ 

‘Do Jewish people take the sacrament?’ 

My dad patiently did his best to answer all of my questions. He knew some things, but not everything. He even offered to take me to other churches some days so I could see for myself. 

I even asked him my big question about how we could possibly be sure that our church was right, when everyone else is sure theirs is right. He couldn’t give me a satisfying answer, and I know now that’s because a satisfying answer doesn’t exist. 

Instead, he told me that I could know for myself if I read the Book of Mormon and prayed about it. 

It was the best he could give me, and I appreciate that he took my questions so seriously, but the flaws in that answer are just too obvious now. 

It’s a clever thought-stopping technique the Church likes to use. 

For one, it assumes the very thing I was questioning. I asked how we could know our church was right, especially when people in every other religion feel just as certain theirs is. And the answer was: “You can know ours is right… if you ask our God our way while reading our book.” It’s a spiritual version of circular logic. A closed system.

And, isn’t it funny that no one ever actually receives a ‘no’ as an answer? On the surface, a 100% success rate looks amazing ... improbable ... impossible. 

But on the off-chance that someone does receive ‘no’ as an answer, the Church is prepared for that, too. Afterall, receiving an answer is based on the Holy Ghost talking to you. And everyone knows that the Holy Ghost can’t reach you if you aren’t worthy. So was your ‘no’ really a ‘no,’ or were you not worthy enough? Not obedient enough? Don’t have enough faith? 

Mormonism, like most organized religions, thrives on logical get-out-jail-free cards. 

And besides, it’s not like receiving ‘no’ as an answer would lead to anything good. 

2. What would happen if I said ‘No’?

I am the oldest sibling in my family, with two younger sisters. I didn’t have anyone to look to for advice or past experience. There wasn’t a precedent to look to. I was the precedent. I quite literally didn’t know anyone who had even considered saying no to baptism when they were eight. 

But I thought about saying no. I really did. I didn’t feel right deciding to be baptized when I wasn’t convinced the Church was true. 

But ... I was seven. What would my life look like if I said no? My family? 

Would I have to go to church with them every Sunday anyway? Would they have to hire a babysitter to watch me? 

Would my parents be disappointed? Would I still have to sit and pray before dinner? Would I still have to read the Book of Mormon? 

I very quickly came to the realization that saying ‘no’ wasn’t an option. Either I’d wreck my family’s structure and relationships, or I’d have to do all the Mormon-y things anyway, because the rest of my family was. 

I couldn’t say ‘no.’ But I wasn’t really saying ‘yes,’ either. I was just accepting my fate. 

3. I didn’t want to be dunked underwater without pool goggles

I was seven, ok? I was scared of what the water would do to my eyes! 

This was the only fear that could be reasonably solved. Practice swimming with my eyes open in the pool helped. Though the chlorine did sting my eyes. 

So I got baptized. And actually, it was a beautiful affair. I still look back on it and get emotional. I remember my dad dunking me in the baptismal font, and feeling so warm, and loved, and peaceful. I immediately wanted to do it again. 

That was the only day I was ever sure of my decision to be baptized. For a few hours, I felt that magical thing everyone talked about when they said the Holy Ghost spoke to them. 

But it didn’t last. 

Of course it didn’t. None of my questions had actually been answered, had they? And as I got older, learned more about my own religion, and saw a little more of the world outside of Mormonism, my list of questions just grew longer. 

I just didn’t know what to do about it. 

But one Sunday, I was told exactly what to do about it. 

For most of my childhood, our church building was a good thirty to forty-five drive away, and my mom loved to fill the drive with church music, fireside devotionals, and religious stories. This was partly because Mormonism had a rule that you had to only do church-related things on Sunday (except football. We could always watch football), and partly because my mom, like me, loved music and loved learning. 

So one Sunday, when I was probably about twelve, maybe younger, my mom popped in a CD of some fireside devotionals. I think it was John Bytheway, but honestly it could’ve been Brad Wilcox or Hank Smith. Some pseudointellectual Mormon white guy. 

My interest was piqued when John started talking about what to do when you have doubts about the Church or the gospel. 

This was it! My exact question! Finally, someone who wasn’t afraid to admit that doubting happens, and has some wisdom about what to do! 

He gave an answer, I’m pretty sure pulled from Apostle Dieter F. Uchtdorf (aka, a big kahuna in Mormon leadership ... also, Mormons love to use middle initials. They’re everywhere). 

“Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith.”

... What? 

Doubt my doubts? What was that supposed to mean? I was looking for a concrete answer about how to approach seriously questions about the LDS church, and instead I got ‘just ignore them.’

Real helpful. 

The despair I felt in that moment stayed with me for years. I didn’t understand how people could just set aside their questions and doubts, when the consequences of being wrong could be so damning. Literally. 

Well, I eventually got an answer to that question, at least. 

How do you doubt your doubts? Easy. 

Just put them on The Shelf. 

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*Note: The Church leadership decreased the length of Sunday services from three hours to two hours in 2019. But for the purposes of my own story, it was three hours.