In this column, I share Jennifer and John’s continuing adventures in the LDS Borderlands (names and details have been changed). The first part of their story was told in a previous column, “Mysterious Ways,” published in early 2014.1Here’s a quick recap of that first column:
According to Jennifer, her husband, John, a high school principal, had been in the LDS Borderlands for several years prior to her writing to me. Jennifer was also moving in that direction and was looking for more understanding so she could manage the situation.
John mainly disliked the Church’s corporate feel and its desire for conformity, but he kept up his activity, made a few close ward friends, began influencing members of his elders quorum to value one another’s points of view, and helped several people deal with their doubts. Jennifer described John as a spiritual person, a believer in God, and a lover of authentic Mormonism (and other faith traditions), but who felt he had outgrown the Church structure. If it were not for his wife and kids, a few ward friends, and the emotional investment he had made in their ward, John would likely have withdrawn from church activity a few years before.
But then their ward boundaries changed, transferring them to a smaller ward much farther away. After considerable discussion, they decided to go to the new ward. But after a few months, this more conservative ward had started disheartening them. They often left church feeling worse than they had before the meetings. The longer drive back and forth accentuated the problem and led to some friction between John and Jennifer. After getting some counseling, they decided it would best for their family to go back to their old ward.
But, as fate would have it, just before they announced their decision to leave, the stake president called John to be the second counselor in the bishopric. John accepted the calling, Jennifer approved it, and their plans to leave were abandoned.
After about six months in the bishopric, John felt he had had a small amount of influence in his new position, especially in the youth program. For example, he helped the Young Women leaders feel empowered to make their own decisions about how to give their lessons. When there was a retrenchment in the stake over YW camp attire, he helped ensure that the new guidelines were based on common sense and temperance. He also helped reactivate a man who was troubled by LDS history. But he often came home feeling exhausted and frustrated. He said to Jennifer, “I know that no organization or belief system is perfect, but wouldn’t it be nice to attend where we didn’t have all this baggage?”
They decided to tell the bishop that they were burned out and needed to return to their former ward. But then John was called to be the first counselor in the bishopric! Again, they decided to stay in their new ward. That is where we left their story in the spring of 2014.
Following is a summary of email messages that Jennifer and I have exchanged during the past two years.
Jennifer (about six months after spring 2014): We have been managing with church, but I think John has again reached a breaking point. He didn’t go to church today and he didn’t call the bishop about being gone. He told me today that his plan is to just return to the old ward soon. He says he hopes I’ll go with him. Of course I will. (Besides, we only have one car!) I’m not sure what we will tell people, but I’ll admit that, after all this time, I am much less worried about what others think. Hopefully they know it’s nothing personal—that there’s no petty offense-taking. John keeps saying that we’re not obligated to make sure others understand. “It may be that trying to explain our reasons will only cause greater misunderstanding. We just have to do what is in our best interests, regardless of whether we become an administrative inconvenience.” And I tend to agree with him.
I appreciate that John doesn’t want to make a big move without me, but at the same time, I wonder if we are holding each other hostage. Mostly me holding him hostage, though: Once I overheard him say to a friend, “She’s where I was five years ago,” as though his path and conclusions are inevitable. He’ll say things like, “You know the Church isn’t what it claims to be.” And I’ll agree, but I have other motives for going to church. One, I’m not an introvert. Two, I just don’t like staying home from church. Three, I can put up with any nonsense for a greater good. But he sometimes takes these reasons as my attempts to “defend the institution when the institution doesn’t deserve our loyalty.” He still likes the authentic Mormon Faith, but feels a need to actually do something suited to his talents. I think he sees my gentle efforts as enabling the Church to continue engaging in spiritual abuse, and I can’t have that. It might be time for more couple’s counseling.
Jennifer (about six months later): Time to check in again! John has been serving in the bishopric for over a year now, but he asked to be released about six weeks ago, and he hadn’t attended church regularly for about a month before that. He had been feeling overwhelmed at work, and it deflated him even more to think of spending his Sundays losing hope for his spiritual life. He doesn’t do well with people who don’t want to challenge their thinking, and that’s usually exactly who he spends all Sunday with. The bishop doesn’t know everything that is going on with him, and it seemed like they were taking an awfully long time to designate a replacement. And all that time, I had to keep deflecting the “Where’s John?” questions at church.
Then, two weeks ago, one of John’s friends, a stake clerk, told John that he’s getting a stake calling. When we went in to the stake president’s office, he said, “I know you have had difficulties, and I don’t need to know details, but do you both hold a current temple recommend, and are you worthy to hold it?” When we said yes, he called John to be a stake high councilor! He was sustained and set apart this last Sunday.
He’s happy about the calling because he’ll be able to give a lot of talks (his favorite thing!), and because his voice will be heard at the higher levels. He only has one 6:30 a.m. meeting each month, though there are also some conference calls and some Sunday travel. His assignments include public relations (he’s a natural communications expert) and, best of all, he’s assigned to our previous ward.
I’m a little worried that he’s not approaching this calling with humility. He retains his attitude of, “I can hold my own in an argument,” and, “When I speak in church, no one will call it ‘dry council’.” But I think this is a positive development, though I’m not sure where it will lead. (One place it will lead is to him ordaining our soon-to-be 12-year-old son to the priesthood—a relief to me.) I’m just happy that I can continue my wonderful calling in the Primary.
Jeff: Sorry to hear about the stress and turmoil you both are going through. Your story—at least as it ended in the first Sunstone column—sounded like, “And they all lived happily ever after.” Unfortunately, that is how fairy tales go, not most Borderland cases.
I’m kind of surprised that John didn’t find serving in the counselor positions in the bishopric more satisfying (or at least entertaining). Did he find the dissonance of living a “double life” too much to bear? Did you? I know it can be hard to live an honest and upfront life when you’re playing such roles. Sometimes feelings of hypocrisy and insincerity can overwhelm you.
Fortunately, as you have seen, no matter what happens, thoughtful people can find a way to deal with the issues—in or out of the Church, or one foot in and one foot out, it doesn’t matter. But whatever you two decide to do, try to do it together. Make changes slowly and thoughtfully. And keep your family’s needs uppermost in your minds.
And good for you for getting some professional counseling! It provides opportunities for thinking and deciding and compromising and working together. Though all crises resolve themselves eventually, counseling can help provide enough time and room for the crisis to ease itself out of your life.
Jennifer (about a year later): As you know, John was rescued by his call to the high council. I have to say it’s been good for him and me. He really appreciates having a voice in meetings, and people love his talks. Since he’s assigned to our old ward, he sees his friends there almost every Sunday. It has also given him more freedom. Some Sundays he attends the high council meetings and assigned ward functions and then just comes home and skips regular meetings. He also mentioned that in this less stressful schedule, he’s been able to work through some garbage from his teenage years—something to do with his older brother. Today he attended our ward for the first time in several months. People were so happy to see him.
So things are going ok for now. I don’t know what will happen when he leaves the high council, whenever that might be.
John defines his Church troubles now as just feeling limited by the institution. He thinks that there is an inevitable blow-up in his future—an irreconcilable conflict in which someone in authority will find him unacceptable. But he speaks of that possibility in a matter-of-fact way, not as something that will destroy his faith and life, but as something that institutions do to preserve themselves. Happily, he understands that struggling with communities and family is a part of growing in faith, so I doubt he will give up on communal worship and family religious ties altogether.
Thank you for all your help over the years. It’s a relief to tell someone about how we are doing. I hope you’re doing well, and I would love to return the support that you have extended to us.
Jeff: You guys have a most interesting Borderland success story! Congratulations on handling a very difficult situation so well, and thanks for your willingness to share your journey. John’s recent history parallels my own. I was in a couple of bishoprics and then got called to the high council. At the time of the call, I told the stake president I didn’t have the “TBM” testimony, but I was willing to serve if he wanted me to. He just said, “Oh, Jeff, you have more of a testimony than you think.” Like John, I enjoyed the ward speaking engagements (partly because I could sneak in some Borderland-type ideas) and I liked the high council assignments I was given. For example, I was assigned to work with LDS Family Services on a special project dealing with “lay counseling at the local level.” John may be getting the same kind of experiences. I’m looking forward to your next installment of the “Jennifer and John” saga.
Like all Borderland stories, the story of Jennifer and John is unique. But certain themes and concepts often crop up in successful Borderland stories: (1) Putting your spouse, kids, and family first. (2) Working together to solve problems. (3) Getting professional help as necessary. (4) Having an open mind. (5) Accepting the Institution as a good but imperfect organization. (6) Respecting other Mormons and letting them live their personal religions as they see fit. (6) Being as honest as possible without hurting others. (7) Developing a personal religion that is compatible with Mormonism. (8) Using your talents and skills to assist others. (9) Appreciating the opportunities to serve and care for others in whatever capacity is available to you. (10) Having faith and trust in a higher power.
NOTES
1. Jennifer and John’s story was originally presented in column 49 published in early 2014. (This is column 56.) All of the Borderland columns are available for free download at: www.forthosewhowonder.com.