The Other

My favorite song in the church’s Children’s Songbook is “I’ll Walk With You”. It reads, in part:

If you don’t walk as most people do, Some people walk away from you, But I won’t! I won’t!

If you don’t talk as most people do, Some people talk and laugh at you, But I won’t! I won’t!

I’ll walk with you. I’ll talk with you. That’s how I’ll show my love for you.

Jesus walked away from none. He gave his love to ev’ryone. So I will! I will!¹

I always felt that the church should feel welcoming to everyone. Of course, the church is usually welcoming to majority groups. I, a straight white man, was allowed to be relatively comfortable in the church, so I was hesitant to notice glaring problems affecting the people around me. I was eligible for any calling I could possibly want. The church had made it clear to me for decades that I was born into my comfortable status because I had won God’s favor (perhaps even before I was born).

The church fosters a strong sense of community among its members, often characterized by deep-rooted in-group solidarity. This solidarity is built upon shared beliefs, values, and experiences that create a cohesive identity among members. However, this strong sense of belonging can also lead to a pronounced skepticism toward those outside the faith, often referred to as “non-Mormons”, as well as people within the group who don’t meet the cultural norms of the group. This dichotomy between in-group solidarity and out-group skepticism has significant implications for relationships, personal identity, and the broader cultural dynamics within and outside the church.

The In-Group

Within church communities, members often experience a sense of belonging and support. This solidarity is cultivated through shared religious practices, communal activities, and a collective commitment to the church’s teachings. Members frequently engage in social events, service projects, and church meetings that reinforce their shared identity and values. This strong sense of community can provide emotional and spiritual support, fostering a sense of purpose and belonging that is deeply fulfilling.

However, this in-group solidarity can also create an “us versus them” mentality, where members may view those outside the faith with skepticism or suspicion. This perspective is often rooted in a desire to protect the community’s values and beliefs from perceived external threats. As a result, interactions with non-Mormons can be fraught with tension, as members may feel compelled to defend their faith or distance themselves from those who do not share their beliefs.

The Out-Group

Of course, non-Mormons fall into the out-group. Ex-Mormons are especially problematic to church teachings, so we also fall into the out-group. But I believe the out-group (i.e., “the other”) is made up of more people than church members often see.

Perhaps you’ve been “the other” before. I remember how it felt to be picked last in gym class, how painful it was to be teased because I didn’t have social skills, and how it felt to be a relatively-disliked religious minority in Honduras. While these experiences are obviously not representative of everyone, I hope I can draw on them to empathize.

If you have spent much time in the church, you probably already have a good idea of who “the other” might be. Everyone’s experience is unique, so there is no way to describe every situation that might cause someone to be “the other”, but this list may describe a few “others” in the church:

• Women, who are to be helpmeets to their husbands and are not to serve in major leadership roles;
• LGBTQ+ individuals, who are taught that their very existence is problematic and sinful;
• Families (especially parents) of non-Mormons or ex-Mormons;
• Mixed-faith couples and families;
• Single adults approaching their late 20s;
• Unmarried couples who live together;
• Introverts;
• Neurodiverse people;
• People with tattoos and multiple piercings;
• People experiencing poverty or homelessness;
• People who drink coffee and tea;
• People who swear;
• People who bring up controversial topics in Sunday School;
• Young men who return home from a mission early or don’t go on one;
• Men without significant callings;
• Women without children;
• People with disabilities and chronic illness.

The list could go on, but I believe I have made my point. In some areas, more people are likely to feel unwelcome at church than not.

Out-Group Skepticism

The skepticism toward “the other” can manifest in various ways, influencing how members perceive and interact with them. This skepticism may stem from a combination of doctrinal teachings, cultural narratives, and historical experiences that shape the community’s worldview. For instance, members may be taught that their faith is the only true path to salvation, leading to a belief that those outside the faith are spiritually misguided or lacking in understanding.

This perspective can complicate relationships with non-Mormons, as members may approach interactions with preconceived notions or biases. Non-Mormons may be viewed as outsiders who do not understand the values and principles that guide their community. This can create barriers to meaningful connections, as members may be hesitant to engage with those who hold different beliefs or lifestyles.

Specific Effects on Out-Groups

Because I cannot possibly do everyone justice, I would like to discuss in greater depth how just a few of these “others” are impacted by church culture and teachings.

Women

Women are not equal to men in the church. They simply are not. Because I, occasionally to my demise, have a Y-chromosome and do not have the understanding this topic deserves, I would like to quote two women who have been extremely supportive to me as I have deconstructed my faith.

First, I present a quote from my wife:

Growing up, I was taught I was nothing more than a baby-making, housekeeping sex toy, an object for my husband’s use and enjoyment. Beginning in primary—before I had even started puberty—I was overtly taught that the greatest role I could ever fill is that of a righteous homemaker, a wife, and a mother. I was a second-class citizen in the church from my conception, and I was expected to be treated as such for time and all eternity as my husband’s wife.

I recorded this thought shortly after we learned we likely couldn’t have kids, and we were working on processing the trauma that came with that. While the news was challenging for both of us, my wife seemed especially devastated. She felt like because God won’t let her have kids, her worth was gone. Never mind her academic and professional success and her amazing skills in so many areas of life; her job was to be a mom, and suddenly she couldn’t have that. We talked about how she could still be a nurturing, motherly figure, but her role as a mother was so deeply ingrained in her beliefs about herself.

As an aside, I refer to my wife throughout this document as “my wife” rather than by her name. After much discussion, she determined it was in her best professional interests to make it hard for search engines to index this document using her name.

Second, I roughly quote one of our best friends who has been extremely supportive as we have deconstructed our beliefs:

It feels like the playground bully is holding equality over women’s heads. It feels so “gaslighty”. They say women are equal and toss us a little tiny bit: young women passing the sacrament to women in mothers’ rooms, relief society presidents helping more with church welfare. But it’s not equality. I’m still a helpmeet to my husband, I’m still first and foremost a mom, I’m still a second-class citizen who needs a man to make my decisions for me.

When we first started talking about gender dynamics in the church, I learned that there was a whole world I had never even noticed. I didn’t have any clue that my wife felt less-than when she learned in the temple that I was required for her to be exalted. I didn’t know how painful it is for women to feel like they don’t have a voice at church. I am ashamed to have benefitted greatly from imbalanced gender roles without even realizing it. My wife has mentioned that she didn’t even realize it, but she was conditioned to expect to be less-than, even in her own home.

Since leaving the church, we have made it a priority to have truly equal roles in our marriage. I still have a lot to learn, and I am so grateful for my wife’s patience as I have learned about the subtle ways I was conditioned to oppress her in our own home. We are becoming happier than ever, and our relationship is becoming healthier and more balanced than it ever was.

Racial Minorities

This topic has been discussed a great deal in both support and opposition of the church. I wholeheartedly condemn the racist teachings and practices in the church (many of which still exist today), but because of my background, I do not feel especially qualified to thoroughly address racism.

I will simply say that I am disgusted that the church and its leaders would teach for decades that racial minorities are inferior, were less righteous before this life, or should not participate fully in the church. It is, in my opinion, horrifying and reflective of despicable moral character to insist that the church is not (and has never been) racist. It is disappointing to see racist church leaders from generations ago hailed as prophets and revelators without acknowledging that many of their fundamental teachings were inherently racist and directly contradictory to God’s nature as “no respector of persons”.

The LGBTQ+ Community

I am deeply discouraged when I hear many church members and leaders treat the LBGTQ+ community as less-than. I am ashamed to have once believed that “same-sex attraction” was just a temptation from God. Shortly before I left the church, I sat uncomfortably through a meeting while a stake president mentioned that we shouldn’t care or even acknowledge that someone is gay. He taught that all of our identities boil down to being a child of God, and that we should look past anything else.

I bit my tongue, but I wanted to ask: if the only part of our identity that matters is being a child of God, why would The Family: A Proclamation to the World indicate that gender is a vital part of our identities? And why, if we only care about being children of God, can women and men not have the same responsibilities within the church?

I have tried throughout this resource to avoid throwing unanswered questions at a reader, so I propose my own answer to the above questions: The church’s leaders benefit greatly by putting themselves above others, especially when someone’s identity can be dismissed as sinful. Thus, the church has enacted a trans-exclusionary restroom policy while unashamedly protecting child abusers.²

Further complicating the issue, parents of people in the LGBTQ+ community are often stuck between a rock and a hard place; damned if they support the church, damned if they support their child. I regret remaining silent in a Sunday School class sitting next to the parents of a gay friend while the teacher taught that “if you raise a kid up in the way they should go, they won’t depart from it”. The lesson condemned parents who didn’t do enough to keep their kids “on the strait and narrow”. My friend’s mom decided to prioritize loving and supporting her son over defending the church; his dad chose to prioritize the church. Neither was able to balance the church’s teachings: his mom was condemned by staunch church members for letting her morals slide, and his dad was condemned by others for letting his child down.

I am also appalled when some church members expect someone to remember and recite “Member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints” and become genuinely upset about the use of the word “Mormon” at the same time they insist on deadnaming teans people (i.e., using someone’s former name or pronouns after an identity transition) or refuse to use any of the several appropriate ways to refer to the LGBTQ+ community (e.g., LGBT, LGBTQ, LGBTQ+, LGBTQIA+, etc.). I cringed in church meetings when someone talked about “alphabet people”, or some random combination of letters. The LGBTQ+ community is huge and there are 4-7 letters to learn.

Less-Common Church Membership Status

While it seems to be becoming more acceptable, church members have long-condemned nuanced, less-active or inactive church members, calling them “lazy learners” or “fence-walkers”. I remember feeling morally superior as they sent us as young men to proselyte to our less-active friends. It was clear to me that people were to be exactly obedient to the church. We talked in classes and meetings about people who were “falling away” or “giving in to the influence of the adversary”. The church has members believe anyone but the most faithful members has been deceived by Satan’s lies and should be preached to.

Neurodiversity and Introversion

I am autistic and introverted. Church meetings and ordinances were a living hell. It was exhausting to act like a door-to-door salesman during two years of missionary work. It was distressing to be baptized over and over for the dead or have water and oil dripped onto my head during initiatory ceremonies. It was humiliating to be expected to give equivalent talks and testimonies to everyone else. And I was one of the lucky ones: I have relatively low support needs and can “mask” well enough to fit in during church meetings.

A family member with ADHD has also shared her experience being judged and criticized for playing games, drawing, reading, or working on crafts during church meetings. Because it was unrealistic for her to sit still and focus on the speakers in church, she always felt like a lower-class citizen among church members.

The church’s message is clear: if you are not an extroverted neurotypical person, you’re not welcome.

Early Returning and Non-Missionaries

Early returning missionaries and those who choose not to serve missions often find themselves navigating a complex social landscape. For many members, serving a mission is seen as a rite of passage and a demonstration of commitment to the faith. Early returning missionaries—those who return home before completing their full two-year service—may face stigma or judgment from their peers, as their experience can be perceived as a failure to meet the community’s expectations. Similarly, individuals who opt not to serve missions for personal, financial, or health reasons may also feel marginalized within the church.

Cultural Insularity

The dichotomy between in-group solidarity and out-group skepticism can contribute to a sense of cultural insularity within church communities. Members may find themselves primarily interacting with fellow church members, leading to a limited exposure to diverse perspectives and experiences. This insularity can reinforce existing beliefs and create an echo chamber effect, where members are less likely to question their views or engage with differing opinions.

Moreover, this cultural insularity can impact personal identity. Members may come to define themselves primarily in relation to their faith, viewing their identity as intrinsically linked to their membership in the church. While this can foster a strong sense of belonging, it may also limit individuals’ ability to explore their identities outside the confines of the church community. For some, this can lead to feelings of alienation or confusion when encountering differing beliefs or lifestyles.

Implications for Relationships

The implications of this perspective on relationships are profound. Members may struggle to form genuine connections with non-Mormons, as the skepticism toward outsiders can create barriers to understanding and empathy. This can lead to missed opportunities for meaningful dialogue and collaboration, as members may be reluctant to engage with those who hold different beliefs.

Additionally, the pressure to conform to the community’s views can create internal conflict for individuals who may wish to explore relationships outside the faith. Members may feel torn between their loyalty to the church and their desire for authentic connections with non-Mormons. This tension can lead to feelings of isolation or frustration, as individuals navigate the complexities of their identities and relationships.