Preface
Anyone who has read Alma 32 understands that a testimony begins with a “desire to believe.” Once planted, that desire must have space to grow, you must “let that desire work in you” until you can have faith (Alma 32:27). Unfortunately, not everyone who has that desire can let it grow. The thorns and thistles of doubt choke out that seed of faith (Matthew 13:7). Even though they have the desire to believe, they can’t seem to make the choice to believe. Faith can only grow if we choose to let it grow, choose to nourish it. Overtime then it can grow into testimony and ultimately conversion. But for some, their minds are so plagued with doubts that faith doesn’t seem like a viable option. In the face of various challenges – and they may be all kinds of things – they feel that disbelief is their only rational choice. My heart goes out to those who are going through this process right now. The following is written for them, in hopes that it might help them find some way to make the choice to believe, and be able to grow from there.
Anyone who has read Alma 32 understands that a testimony begins with a “desire to believe.” Once planted, that desire must have space to grow, you must “let that desire work in you” until you can have faith (Alma 32:27). Unfortunately, not everyone who has that desire can let it grow. The thorns and thistles of doubt choke out that seed of faith (Matthew 13:7). Even though they have the desire to believe, they can’t seem to make the choice to believe. Faith can only grow if we choose to let it grow, choose to nourish it. Overtime then it can grow into testimony and ultimately conversion. But for some, their minds are so plagued with doubts that faith doesn’t seem like a viable option. In the face of various challenges – and they may be all kinds of things – they feel that disbelief is their only rational choice. My heart goes out to those who are going through this process right now. The following is written for them, in hopes that it might help them find some way to make the choice to believe, and be able to grow from there.
Why I Believe (in the
LDS Church)
I have spent considerable time, over my short 26 years of
life, wrestling with belief. I have never had a “faith crisis” like that which
others have described, but I have experienced moments of having my faith
rattled, or shaken, if you will. On my mission I was wont to “Bible Bash” and
every time a preacher or whomever we came across stumped me, it would raise
questions that would burn in my mind until I found an answer. When we went home
for lunch, or dinner, or at the end of the day, I would passionately search the
scriptures until I came up with a solution that satisfied my intellect.
I haven’t experienced a rattling like that since getting
home from my mission, but I do still have questions and I continue to seek out
answers. Everyday I’m confronted with information that challenges my faith –
whether it is explicit anti-Mormon propaganda or simply tragic news that makes
me wonder, “Is there really a God? And if so, would he let that happen?” Like Enos of old, it is a daily wrestle to believe,
but every day I do choose to believe.
But why? I hope to explore a little bit of that here.
First, I choose to believe every day because in spite of
what I don’t know, there are some things I do
know. I know that I’m happier when I pray in the morning, and I sleep better
after I pray at night. You could say it is psychological or whatever, but even
that would not change the fact that it is true. Not only am I happier, though,
but my day actually does go better. I’m better at staying on task, being
considerate of others, and so on. Now, again, some might want to argue it is
because by taking time to pray I remind myself of what needs to be done that
day, how I can (and should) serve others, etc., but again, that does not change
the fact that it really, truly, does all those good things for me. God or not,
why should I stop a practice that really works? I also know that the scriptures
– particularly the Book of Mormon – inspire me. I know that I feel better, and
do better, when I read them, and when I try to apply their teachings. I know
that I have had real spiritual
experiences with the Book of Mormon, other scriptures, at Church, while serving
others, in answer to prayers, and so on. Thoughts and feelings that are not my
own have been impressed upon my mind and my heart. Not emotional feelings, mind you, but spiritual feelings, which are as distinct from emotions as are physical feelings. They have told me to
do things I would not otherwise think to do, things I do not even want to do. Sometimes I do them, other
times, regrettably, I don’t. I don’t always see the impact immediately, if
ever, but I always feel better when I choose to listen. I could say a lot more
about what I know, but I am trying to stick strictly to what I know without any
appeals to spiritual knowledge. Even still, there is more I could say, but I
think I’d best move on.
Second, I choose to believe every day because I much prefer
the prospects of life after death over the notions of an eternal end. It
doesn’t really matter whether it is true; to me it seems better to believe. You
can call me a coward who can’t face the fear of death, if you wish, I don’t
mind. To think of ceasing to exist is something I have never been able to wrap
my head around, though I’ve tried. Ultimately, though, I don’t think I want to
believe in “the end.” I much prefer thinking that I will see my deceased
friends and family members again; that I will see my grandfather on by father’s side, or grandmother on my mother’s side, when I get to the other side. That though I am bound to
die an imperfect and deeply flawed human being, I will be afforded an
opportunity to continue to grow, progress, improve, and change for eternity. I
don’t have to ultimately settle for the best I can do here (though I certainly am trying to the best I can now), because I will have chances to
continue to get better in the hereafter. Furthermore, the thought that the
millions who live and die a life principally of suffering will not have another
life where they can be relieved of suffering, and enjoy peace and rest, is
absolutely repulsive to me. While that is no excuse for not doing what I can to
help alleviate the pain of others in the here and now, it is ultimately much
more satisfying to believe that my meager efforts – and even the combined
efforts of the many, which still fall painfully short – to help those in need
does not represent the full extent of mercy and compassion they will receive;
that a loving and caring God has a peace for them beyond that of this world.
Third, I choose to believe because the thought of the
Atonement is deeply moving for me. I truly “stand all amazed” by the whole
affair. As a deeply flawed individual, I am encouraged by the thought that
Jesus – seeing my plight and imperfection, along with that of the rest of
humanity – felt to show me the way with
his example, endured torture and suffering – anguish of soul and body – because
he believed it might help me, that it might help all of us. I frankly can’t
make sense of how Jesus’ suffering and death on the cross atones for us, and
for me that does not matter. What matters is the thought, the notion, that
someone far greater than I would endure that pain believing it would help me.
That is powerful; that is enabling. It, of course, enables and empowers beyond
simply the way an inspiring tale can. There is a spiritually empowering element to it, which I believe only
accompanies the thought because it is true. I have often felt the
empowering affects of the Atonement in my life in overcoming sin and other
shortcomings. But even without that, just the thought of Christ willingly
enduring torment and death – and, I should mention, his rising above it through
resurrection – for the betterment of others, including myself, makes me want to
weep. It is a beautiful thought, one that I would want to be true, even if it wasn’t. Hence, I choose to believe it,
even in moments of doubt.
Fourth, I choose to believe, because I frankly can’t make
any sense of disbelief. I can’t make sense of how this all exists without a
God, but even more so, I can’t make sense of how Joseph Smith produced the Book
of Mormon simply on his own. The book is too long, too complex, and too
beautiful to have been produced by a farm boy rapidly making up a story to tell
to his scribe. I can’t make sense of the three and eight witnesses without real
gold plates. And I can’t make sense of a lot of other things pertaining to the
restoration and the Book of Mormon without some sort of real divine force being
behind it. Maybe you can make sense of it all – certainly others have tried –
but I can’t. Disbelief is just something I can’t make sense of. It leaves me
with far more questions and perplexities than belief does.
How I Deal With Questions
How I Deal With Questions
But then, what about the issues that cause people doubt?
What about the questions that remain? What about polygamy, the priesthood ban,
and a host of other issues? For me, that is part of the beauty of the Gospel.
It supplies an endless array of questions to explore, infinite hypotheses to
test. It does not settle all the mysteries for you. There are puzzling features
that can make you scratch your head. Some people ask, “Why doesn’t God just
reveal where the Book of Mormon took place to the prophet?” or “Why don’t the
leaders of the Church address these questions?” “Why must we depend on
‘unofficial’ apologists and scholars?” In my experience, God has never just given people the answers. Even Joseph
Smith had to seek for two years or more before he had the First Vision! God
revealing answers to “settle” these questions (as if yet another revelation
could satisfy the antagonists and lay all doubt to rest) would greatly defeat
the purpose of life, which is to learn
and grow through the trial of faith.
In exploring questions about the Book of Mormon’s authenticity, I have learned
far more than I ever would have about geography, archaeology, anthropology, history,
genetics, botany, zoology, linguistics, literary studies, ancient studies, and
several other disciplines. In the process I have reached a number of
conclusions that have helped me, and found answers that satisfy my intellectual
cravings on these issues. But it is the learning,
more than the solutions I personally prefer, that is the ultimate aim; and that
learning is lost when the answers are simply handed to us. I believe God leaves
questions that linger in order to prompt that quest to learn. When the curtain
is pulled and all is revealed, I think we will find that all our pet theories
are off the mark, and substantially so. But what we learned, and the process we
went through, will prove to be valuable in our continued progression through
the eternities.
Conclusion
Conclusion
So that is why I believe. At least, that is why I believe today. The thing about belief being a
daily battle is that the reasons are always evolving. I am not done wrestling with belief simply
because I have written this down. But it represents the fruits of my personal
confrontation with belief and disbelief up to this point, and I only hope that
by sharing it with you, it can provide some fodder to chew on in your own
struggle between belief and disbelief.
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