The Red Pill

For the first few months my conversations with Tim were infrequent. During that time, our topics of discussion shifted from matters of history and doctrine to matters of LDS culture. We talked about the great incongruences between the early Church and what we have today. Tim despised the corporate culture of the modern church. He hated how wearing a blue shirt disqualified you from participating in the sacrament, and the authoritarian nature of Church leadership. I found myself agreeing with Tim, and sharing many his frustrations. For me, I became more and more dissatisfied with Church curriculum, and how focused we had become on behavior modification rather than conversion to Christ.

As Tim became more comfortable airing his grievances with me, he slowly started introducing me to an online forum that he participated in. They were called the Wasatch Group. This forum was comprised of fairly wealthy LDS men and women, mostly nestled in the bosom of an undisclosed part of the Wasatch Front in northern Utah. While they discussed a wide spectrum of topics, they dealt mostly with politics and uncorrelated Mormonism.  Remarkably, many of these folks came from lofty circles of Mormondom. Former stake presidents and bishops, relatives and in-laws of General Authorities, etc. They were mostly lawyers, doctors, and corporate executives. All of them were weary of and disenchanted with the LDS Church.

One evening last June Tim mentioned to me that he participated with the group and that he would start forwarding some of their discussions to me. The first post I received was written by Roger Jenkins. As I would learn, Roger and his younger brother Taylor were the principle contributors of the Wasatch Group, and many of the discussions and topics were facilitated by their instigation.

Roger’s question was simple: What is the “church”? During testimony meetings we often hear the repeated phrase “I know the Church is true.” But what does that really mean? If something is true, does that mean it’s real? Accurate? Not false? To say “the Church is true” really is absurd when you think about it. Not because it’s inaccurate, but because to say so isn’t really saying anything at all. And if the Church is true, what is the Church? Is it the 501-3C corporation? Is it the body of Christ? Is it the Kingdom of God?

Now I didn’t take issue with Roger’s post. However, nestled in his comments was a hyperlink that would plant the seed that ultimately change my worldview forever:

http://puremormonism.blogspot.com/2010/10/how-corporatism-has-undermined-and.html

If you don’t take the time to read this lengthy article (or if you’re too scared) this post was written by Rock Waterman, a prominent anti-establishment LDS Blogger.  His comments mostly surround the research of Daymon Smith, a LDS cultural anthropologist who had apparently written some sort of exposé about his time working in the Church Office Building. Waterman touched on a few of the issues from Smith’s book, including the real motives behind the big “Flooding the Earth with the Book of Mormon” push in the 1980s, the City Creek Mall, and other disturbing revelations about the inner workings of the corporate church. The post dealt its criticism toward the Church and the brethren with a heavy hand and a tone laden with sarcasm. Normally I wouldn’t mind so much, but something about the article and this guy Daymon Smith did not sit well with me.

Looking back I realize that up until reading this blog post, while there were many things I disliked about the Church, most of my grievances were with LDS culture at the local level. Despite my gripes, I never thought it was my place to defy the Church as an institution, or to engage what many mainstream LDS consider “speaking ill of the Lord’s anointed.” After all, they held the keys and I did not. For me, it was one thing to attack certain tenants and cultural elements of Modern Mormonism, but quite another to attack the Church itself. Sure, the Church isn’t perfect, and it had made mistakes, but as I read this post by Rock Waterman, I felt an uncomfortable knot in my stomach, and a swell of anger rising within me. Sound familiar?

My knee-jerk reaction was to defend the Church. I started composing a response to Tim. I wish I still had the draft. I know I came up with some soaring prose that went something like this:

“These pseudo-intellectuals sit on a very convenient pedestal. They get to criticize the Church without being apostates, and enjoy the benefits of Mormonism without being valiant. If that’s not having your cake and eating it too, then I don’t know what is. It must be nice . . .”

As I fervently typed my brilliant rebuttal, a small voice in the back of my mind seemed to tell me to slow down. Gradually, the rapid-fire keystrokes subsided, and eventually the typing stopped. As I sat back in my chair in front of my laptop, it dawned on me what was happening. The sensation of nausea, the uneasiness of mind, the anger . . . Though on several occasions I had been able to look back and see when I had gone through a bout with cognitive dissonance, this was the first time that I recognized it while it was happening. This stopped me cold in my tracks.

Though still aggravated, I decided that I needed to give these folks more thorough consideration before disregarding their claims and attacking them.  I trashed my scathing draft to Tim and re-read the Waterman post. Still didn’t like it. I felt that with the gift of 20/20 hindsight Smith and Waterman were Monday-morning-quarterbacking the Brethren, without knowing the context of their decisions. Since most of Waterman’s points were derived from Daymon Smith, I started focusing more on him.  The title of Smith’s “exposé” was The Book of Mammon: A Book About A Book About The Corporation That Owns The Mormons. Okay, that’s pretty funny . . . but still blasphemous! I read several reviews about the book and saw a wide spectrum of opinions ranging from “it’s gospel!” to the “it’s s#&@!” I decided the only way I would be in a position to judge Smith’s work and opinions would be to read it. So, taking full advantage of our instant-gratification free market, within sixty seconds I was reading The Book of Mammon on my iPad.

In Roger’s post on the Wasatch Group he mentioned that Mammon was a tough read. That was an understatement. Smith must have dropped acid while he was writing this thing! Though a quasi-narrative about his projects and experiences working at the Church Office Building (“The COB”), Smith’s story was incredibly disjointed, constantly switching story telling devices and formats on a whim, and he was downright mean in his description of COB employees (“Cobbers”) and General Authorities (whose identities he shrouded in ridiculous names like Elder Zebedee D. Ossam, or Ezred Z. Pinkertonzz). I could smell smoke coming out of my ears as my poor brain struggled through a few dozen pages before finally giving out.

After putting down the iPad I rubbed my eyes and tried to process what I had read. Through all the confusing prose, a few things stood out. First, Daymon Smith was a psychopath. Second, he was a genius. Third, my romantic view of the divine operations of the COB were incredibly naive. For the first time in my life I learned that there isn’t any official organization called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (don’t forget the hyphen!). That incredibly long name that I won’t repeat is a trademark owned by Intellectual Reserve, a subsidiary corporation of the Corporation of the Presiding Bishopric, which itself is a subsidiary of the Corporation of the President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (whoops, there it is again). The CoJCoLDS trumpeted in D&C Section 1 was dissolved by the Supreme Court in 1886. You can easily dismiss that as legal semantics, but still, who knew?!

I found the part of Smith’s book referenced by Waterman that dealt with the big Book of Mormon push in the 1980’s. Smith had done his homework and obviously a lot of digging while working in Salt Lake. Everything in Waterman’s post about how “flooding the Earth with the Book of Mormon” was a tool to economically dispose of the Church’s inventory of older-edition BofM’s was all true. Crazy!

I had stayed up all night pouring through this material. As uncomfortable as it was to look behind the curtain, I was fascinated by Smith’s experiences. In terms of what I walked away with after going down this rabbit hole, my thoughts are probably best summarized by the email I sent Tim four days after my introduction to the Wasatch Group:

Tim,

Sorry for not getting back to you sooner on all this. I’ve spent actually quite a bit of time researching this. I’ve read a lot of Daymon Smith’s book (brilliant writer), and looked  through many of the blogs that follow this anti-establishment outlook on the Church. From what I gather, the belief amongst these people is that the Church that was established by Joseph Smith disappeared at least in part if not in whole upon the dissolution order mandated by the Feds in 1886, and became fully extinct upon the establishment of the Corporate Sole / Corporation of the President in 1927. Since that time, what we understand to be the Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter-Day Saints is not a church, but merely a brand/trademark that is owned by said corporation. This corporation is now the source of what mainstream Mormons regard as modern revelation. But in fact this is at best the bi-product of the wasteful, bureaucratic efforts of well-meaning yet incapable old white men, or at worst a facade / marketing ploy created by the corporation to ensure a revenue stream (tithing) to fund its various ventures (remodeling of Downtown Salt Lake) and subsidiary for-profit corporate entities (Deseret Book, Bonneville Communications, etc.). Is that correct?

I would like you to correct me if I’m wrong or if I’ve misunderstood before I give you my thoughts.

Paul

Tim’s reply:

I would say that is fairly accurate. I have not spent much time at all researching Smith, etc. I do think there are a lot of disenchanted people with the Church who believe in the original “intent” of the Church’s leaders, much like the “tea party” with politics. I think a lot of policies, correlation, and lack of transparency alienate a lot of people. I cant say I agree with all of what this group thinks, but having an “H.R.” handbook, correlation, and other issues bother me as well-perhaps on a different level than others, but they do nonetheless. I think we miss the mark way too often on what pure religion is vs the role of the Church. The checklist of whats important in Church standards compared to what my moral compass tells me arent always aligned….

It was though I had opened the door and stood at the threshold to a world I’d never known, but was always there in front of me. In this expanse everything I thought I knew was now suspended above solid ground — tumbling, disjointed, colliding. Whether I remained at the threshold, step into the unknown, or close the door and retreat to the comfort of correlated reality was yet to be determined. Regardless, I felt like Neo in the Matrix. There I stood before Morpheus, the red pill extended next to the blue. The choice was mine: continue in this artificial world, or become unplugged.

Resistance

The truth is, I was intrigued by Tim’s remarks about alcohol use in early Mormonism. Rather than scouring the Internet to refute these claims, I actually wanted to learn more about them. I had learned long before meeting Tim to appreciate Joseph’s perceived flaws and imperfections, rather than let them destroy my faith in his mission. But what I gained most from my interaction with Tim, is that I had actually found someone like me. Though I could tell that there was much more brewing beneath the surface with Tim — at least more than Joseph Smith’s alcohol use — I knew he was someone that I could safely discuss uncorrelated Mormonism with (note, at the time I never would know to call it “uncorrelated Mormonism”).

And apparently Tim felt the same way, because during the ensuing months he continued to feel me out with more questions and thoughts about the Word of Wisdom, blacks and the priesthood, tithing, and a variety of other topics. He was always cautious, and would often follow up a discussion by saying something like, “Don’t turn me in to the secret Mormon Gestapo!” Though remarks like this were always made in levity, I could always tell Tim used his humor to veil his justified concern that many have with discussing uncorrelated topics. Much like Winston in Orwell’s 1984, those who question the system must always scrutinize with whom they confide. It wasn’t long until I learned for myself why I needed to tread lightly.

Last Christmas, my brother-in-law Sam Craver’s parents were in town.  They are two of the sweetest old folks you could ever meet. The proud parents of a Stake President and a Bishop (my brother-in-law), Brother and Sister Craver never spoke an unkind word, enjoyed soft laughter at polite mild humor, and beamed with that celestial Mormon glow.

Somehow  during a family gathering the topic of Blacks and the Priesthood came up. The aged Cravers recalled how wonderful it was in 1978 when the divine revelation was given allowing all those sweet colored men to hold the priesthood.

At some point, I recklessly asked, “Do you really believe that Blacks were fence-sitters in the pre-existence?” Silence . . .crickets. I was genuinely surprised at how quickly I had managed to kill the conversation. Everyone just sat and looked at each other! I could almost see some flustered television director storming into the living room, frantically flipping through the pages of a script trying to figure out where I was getting this new material.

Sister Craver stirred in her seat, and all eyes darted to her as she with dignity meekly stated , “Well, I think it would be more appropriate to say they were less valiant.”

Now all eyes were on me. “Right, sorry,” I rubbed the side of my face, trying to find the right words. “I guess I’ve always thought that if anyone is here on Earth, especially in the ‘Last Days,’ that we were among the righteous followers of Christ and his plan — that we rejoiced. To me, the notion of Blacks being ‘less valiant’ conflicts with that.” I looked around only to find blank stares.

“Well, it’s what McConkie said,” Brother Craver said with a calm, assertive grin, knowing the matter was now resolved. After this declaration there was almost an audible sigh of relief in the room and everyone relaxed.

Suddenly, a quick loud burst of laughter brought back the silence. To my horror I realized the chortle had come from me! I felt like slapping my hand over my mouth, but instead more came out, “Yeah, McConkie said a lot of things. I’m not so sure of how much credence I give his opinion.”

Oh jeez! What just happened? Shut up Paul! I suddenly became locked into the piercing glare of Brother Craver’s squinting cataract eyes. I’m pretty sure the only sound to be heard at that moment was my sheepish gulp.

“You be careful young man,” Brother Craver’s words slowly croaked from his trembling throat. “Remember, what Elder McConkie stated in Mormon Doctrine he learned from Jesus The Christ, a book written in the Holy Temple by an Apostle of the Lord, and from other Prophets, Seers, and Revelators of the Restoration. ”

Though my heart was racing, I somehow managed to string together a coherent concession. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to disrespect Elder McConkie. I recognize his contributions to the Church, and his departing testimony is among my favorite statements given by an apostle. Sorry if I offended you.”

I was relieved to see the Cravers’ cheerful disposition return. Brother Craver returned a kind smile, “I forgive you.”

On another occasion last Easter, more members of my wife’s family were in town, and somehow I found myself talking about Valley Tan, and the role alcoholic beverages played in the settling of the Utah Territory. As I jokingly reveled about how different the Word of Wisdom was in the 19th century, I noticed my brother-in-law Jason staring at me with a furrowed brow. His glare caught me off guard and I lost my train of thought. I found myself returning his gaze with a stupefied look.

“Why are you talking about this?” He demanded angrily.

I could feel my fight-or-flight response kick in. “Huh? Well, I don’t know I just think its interesting how things have changed.”

“So, what’s wrong with that?” he snapped back.

“Um, nothing,” I cowered. “I wasn’t making a value judgment, I just . . .”

“Where do you learn these things?” he demanded.

“What things?” I played dumb.

“All this stuff you’re saying sounds like Anti,” he said with an accusing tone.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s Anti . . . I uh . . . I guess it’s kind of like interesting . . . Church . . . trivia.” I slowly spit the words out. Once again I found myself back-pedaling and trying to worm my way out of my in-laws’ suspicions.

As I continued to understand more about Mormon history, the more I found myself inadvertently upsetting my relatives and other church members. Though it’s probably horribly cliché to say, I felt a lot like Joseph Smith when he would in youthful innocence excitedly tell pastors and ministers about his visions, only to be met with astonishing backlash and hostility. (Of course I would later learn that when many of these clergy were approached by Joseph they were speaking to a teenager who was renowned and infamous for his scrying, involvement in magic, and pursuits for buried treasure)

As I’m sure we’ll get to, on occasion I still find myself in these predicaments of saying too much to the wrong people.  Fortunately, I’ve gotten better at discerning who to discuss these issues with. Though I’ve come to understand how and why LDS folks get so defensive and upset about discussing these issues, I still can’t figure out why these discussions elevate so quickly to such vitriol. Motives are attacked, loyalty is questioned, and apostasy is sharply declared. Of course it’s no surprise that those who inquire about these issues and meet this level resentment and venom are prone to retreat into isolation. There they wade through and struggle with the troubling histories and doctrines in solitude, all too often resulting in a loss of faith.

I guess it’s ironic if not tragic that as a church we’ve become the same close-minded, paranoid bigots that used to chase the Saints across the Frontier, burn their homes, and seek their blood.  While those of us who hold perspectives contrary to orthodoxy today needn’t fear death from mobs, the same witch hunt culture prevails as it did back then.

In those first months, though I had my infrequent discussions with Tim as an outlet, I quickly felt isolated from my family and the community I loved. I was guarded about what I shared with my wife, not wanting to give her any undue worry about my salvation and our marriage. It truly was a struggle for awhile.

Fortunately this period of isolation, though not the last I would experience, was at least short-lived, as I soon discovered that I was not alone . . .

Cognitive Dissonance

So, I have a small confession. I may have used a little bit of hyperbole in that last post. Maybe our villain Tim wasn’t really as nefarious as I made him out to be. And maybe I wasn’t really such an unassuming victim as I insinuated. And I’m pretty sure that even back then I would never search LDS.org for information about the Prophet’s alcohol use.

The truth is, even though I grew up in an active LDS family, for a good chunk of my teenage years I was a closet atheist. Most of my classmates and friends in high school were incredibly hostile toward the Church, so I was exposed to troubling doctrines and history at an age that I was completely unequipped to handle it. At age 17, after I eventually became “converted,” I had to spend a lot of time reconciling issues like polygamy, polyandry, Egyptology and The Book of Abraham, the Mountain Meadows Massacre, etc.

In reality, for a “Stage 3 Mormon” in his mid-twenties, I was probably uncharacteristically qualified to handle what for reasons we’ll address here is considered troubling information like alcohol use in the early Church. As for Tim, rather than a devious apostate, and like most individuals trying to escape the clutches of Correlated Mormonism, he was probably testing the waters with me, perhaps hoping to find someone (anyone) to whom he could confide.

As such, my somewhat exaggerated telling was intended to illustrate what is a typical experience for many mainstream LDS folks who stumble across troubling information about Church History, doctrinal inconsistencies, or a variety of other factual matters that are incompatible with the romantic version of the Restoration we’re given in Primary, Sunday School, Seminary, and Priesthood/Relief Society. To many LDS, the revelation that Joseph Smith drank booze, or smoked cigars, or had any other [fill in the blank character flaw] can be earth-shaking.

What’s been fascinating for me to discover is that these experiences of painful discovery are actually a thoroughly researched psychological phenomenon called “cognitive dissonance.” Without getting too wonky or bogged down with psycho-babble, cognitive dissonance occurs when new information, facts, ideas, etc. come into conflict with our previously held beliefs/notions/cognitions. This disharmony between opposing cognitions creates an uncomfortable psychological sensation that usually results in nausea, anxiety, and anger.

Because cognitive dissonance causes such great discomfort, from a young age humans actually develop a myriad of defense mechanisms to avoid or quickly remove the anxiety connected to CD. Some disregard the new information, pretending they never heard it, and move on with their original paradigm (that is until the next conflict arises). Some will use false logic, unrealistic qualifiers, and confirmation biases to discredit and reject the new information. For others, the new information has so much power and momentum and is so antithetical to their existing belief structure that the old belief/cognition is shattered by the introduction of the conflicting one. For these people it is easier to just jettison their old beliefs than to endure the CD.

Here is a wonderful video from TED that explains CD and its accompanying coping mechanisms:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NqONzcNbzh8&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Most Mormons who are either raised in the Church, or have been members for an extended period of time become ingrained with a series of false doctrinal and historical expectations, or what psychologists would label “cognitions.” Some of these expectations/cognitions are created by mainstream  LDS culture:

  • Joseph Smith wasn’t a polygamist
  • Joseph Smith is one of the finest human beings that ever lived (save Jesus only)
  • Blacks didn’t hold the priesthood before 1978
  • The events of The Book of Mormon took place in Central America, and the modern Native Americans are Lamanites
  • The early Saints in Missouri were innocent victims of mob violence, and their repeated expulsion from Kirtland, Missouri, and Nauvoo, as well as the martyrdom of Joseph Smith was the work of evil men under Satanic influence, thus standing as a testament to the validity and divinity of this “Marvelous Work and a Wonder.”
  • The practice of polygamy in the LDS Church ended in 1890
  • The statements and positions advocated by Bruce R McConkie in his book Mormon Doctrine are in fact Mormon Doctrine.

Some of these cognitions are created by the second-hand influence and/or official positions of the LDS Church itself:

  • Joseph Smith used the Urim and Thummim, an ancient biblical device, through which he examined the leafs of the Gold Plates and perfectly translated its contents while dictating to a scribe who sat on the other side of a sheet partition.
  • “The prophet will never lead the Church astray.”
  • Though not infallible, when speaking on behalf of the Lord, the President of the Church is always correct, and his counsel/directives/orders must be followed and obeyed.
  • Any criticism or disagreement with the Church or its divinely commissioned leaders constitutes “steadying the ark,” and anyone who does so has embarked on the road to apostasy and must repent or face the wrath of the Eternal God.
  • The Priesthood is the Lord’s Government for his Kingdom (aka The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints)
  • New revelation trumps old revelation
  • Daily operations of the Church such as the use of tithing funds, the calling of General Authorities, and the global distribution of 19 year-olds is always done with prayer and executed under the direction of the Holy Ghost.
  • Any historical facts, information, groups, or individuals that conflict with the current official position of the Church are led by Satan.

In many ways expectations like those listed above contribute to the higher levels of happiness, mental stability, productivity, and familial unity that Mormons are famous for. So, on its face, there isn’t anything wrong with having these cognitions — that is until a conflicting cognition is introduced. What cognitive dissonance research has shown is that our minds are unable to hold two opposing cognitions at the same time without experiencing the distress touched on earlier.

For example, let’s say that I hold the cognition that blacks didn’t hold the priesthood before 1978, and that blacks were “fence sitters” in the pre-existence and/or they are inheritors of the Curse of Cain and Ham. One day I discover that Joseph Smith and others ordained black men to the priesthood, and that Elijah Abel was a black member of the Seventy until his death in 1884. I have now experienced an opposing cognition, and because my cognition on blacks and the priesthood is something I’ve either read from a place like Mormon Doctrine or a quote from Brigham Young, I’m experiencing a healthy dose of cognitive dissonance. I may feel a pit in my stomach. I may feel anxious. Regardless, I have to find a way to get rid of this feeling.

It is at this point that we start to hear Mormons make statements like “that’s the problem with history — we don’t understand the context,” or “we can’t rely on history, because memories fade,” or “I only give things like this 50% relevance, because I wasn’t there, so I don’t know if any of it is true.” Maybe you will hear “Perhaps the Lord told Joseph Smith to ordain a few blacks to test the faith of the Saints,” or “That’s why we have modern revelation to understand which parts of our history is accurate, and which parts aren’t.” These are the Mormons who are able to successfully disregard these new opposing cognitions by developing elaborate strings of deductive reasoning, or whatever other means necessary to justify their original cognition.

Other Mormons aren’t so lucky. Several months ago I listened to a Mormon Stories podcast where a recent resignation letter was read. The author was an active, faithful LDS woman, who while reading an online news article about the FLDS sect and Warren Jeffs came across a reader’s comment who claimed that Joseph Smith, like Warren Jeffs, also had child brides sealed to him.

This righteous sister was repulsed by this blatantly false accusation made against the Prophet of the Restoration, and quickly came to his defense by posting her own comment refuting this claim. She stewed over this blasphemy as she monitored the news article’s comments section, waiting for the perpetrator’s response. Finally it came. The post simply listed several hyperlinks. With hesitation she clicked the first link which contained journal entries from one of Smith’s underage wives. The next provided sealing records of these marriages, and so on. The evidence was right there in front of her.

What becomes especially damaging in these situations is that many of these false cognitions are constructed on top of each other and interconnected, very much like a house of cards. For this woman, many expectations worked in concert to set her up for a painful faith crisis. The most prominent of these cognitions was that she never knew that Smith was a polygamist. She had probably taken institute courses on Church History, never missed a Relief Society lesson from The Teachings Of The Prophet Joseph Smith manual, and may have even read a Joseph Smith biography from Deseret Book. How could she have spent her entire life in the Church and never known this? This then effects another cognition: her reverence for Joseph Smith, his moral character, and the pedestal that he had been placed on in her life. From there the “prophet will never lead the Church astray” comes into question. After that it’s all a ripple effect. Thus, all it took was ten minutes and a few clicks of a mouse for this daughter of God to lose her faith and leave the Church. For her the cognitive dissonance was too much to bear. No amount of logical gymnastics and justification could reconcile the opposing cognitions.

Stories like this are so unfortunate, and increasingly frequent. No doubt this woman was married to a devout priesthood holder and the mother of a gaggle of blue-eyed, pink-faced children. Is she still married? Do her parents still speak with her? How was she treated by her bishop and others in her ward? These stories are tragic not only because they often break apart families and destroy people’s lives, but even more so because they are so unnecessary. Though it is possible to reconcile opposing cognitions by combining them into a singular “hybrid” cognition – ie, “Since prophets CAN make mistakes, even in the name of the Lord, and since Joseph Smith was a divinely appointed yet flawed servant of God, I can overlook his many human weaknesses, even his sealing himself to minor girls” – it is so much easier to not develop the false cognition in the first place.

Ultimately, I think that is what this blog is all about for me. I feel very strongly that we have a serious problem in the Church. I’ll deal with Correlation quite a bit as I go along, but suffice it to say that it is a cancer to our faith. Aside from setting up its unassuming victims for the crises of faith discussed in this post, the greatest crime of Correlation is that as we try to revise and sanitize our history, we in turn dishonor those who sacrificed and died for it.

As I attempt to document my own quest of ridding myself of these false cognitions, my hope is that I can help others to do the same. We don’t need to hide from or be ashamed of our past. It’s what defines who we are and makes us Mormons. We should stand tall and embrace who we are, worts and all, and honor those who did the same before us.