I take it back

They had "good reason". I wasn't "playing the game" anymore. (Did I ever?) I practically begged the local leadership to kick me out. I wasn't willing to "go along" any more with the cognitive dissonance, intentional suppression of intellectual curiosity and inquiry, abrogation of agency, spiritual vacuity, false doctrine and boredom of meetings, and constant constraints imposed upon me. I knew in my heart that the Church couldn't "save" me. I gave it several decades to prove it could. But it couldn't.

Oh, the Church made me a much better person than I would otherwise be! (Anyone who knows me from my youth knows what a "bad" person I was.) A Mormon prophet said "the purpose of the gospel is to make bad men good and good men better". The Mormon gospel, if lived, certainly does that! And I am living proof! If I hadn't become a Latter-day Saint, I would most likely be in prison right now. Or dead.

But "living the gospel" -- once I put everything on the altar -- was comparatively easy to "being Mormon". (His "yoke" truly is easy and His "burden" is light.) And I'm not talking about all the nit-picky "dos" and "don'ts" that Mormons pride themselves in following and Mormon mothers worry about "falling short" in. (I consider those things the "preparatory gospel". Every "saint" should be able to exert sufficient "self control", even if it's never "enough".)

My biggest complaint?

Most Latter-day Saints have anxiety about "bearing testimony". Mine was not being allowed to. Few understood me when I did and fewer still wanted to have anything to do with me once I had. When I found out a few years ago that I would never be allowed to fully participate in the Mormon Church because of some "sin" or "indiscretion" in my past (never explained to me), forever marking me as "suspect" in the eyes of The Brethren, I wondered what the future held for me in the LDS Church.

I soon learned. 

It was a "status" that never allowed me to give a talk in Church (not even once in the last three years!) or teach a class, hold a calling of any substance or influence (other than to clean bathrooms) and that required I be kept under constant surveillance. (Thank you, Brother Saunders, you are "released" now!) I didn't feel comfortable bearing my testimony in Church, because I knew when I did, I would thereafter face ridicule and censure from the leadership and derision and rejection from the membership.

Who would want that?

Take away enough avenues of expression from a man, limit his activity and participation by exclusion and denial of opportunity, criticize and condemn his points of view, fence him in and cut him off by discrimination and then remind him often enough that he "really could have been something, if only...." and what you get is little incentive to "be part of the group" -- unless you're a complete "non-entity" to begin with, looking for an "identity" and willing to do anything to get one.

My new "home teacher" came by yesterday. (First time in over three years!) He told me he had been asked -- by more than one person recently -- why he still associated with me. (I used to be his home teacher!) 

Mormons are nothing if not tolerant and charitable.

Literally. (See Moroni 7:46.)

That being said, I love the gospel! I love the doctrines restored by Joseph Smith! I adore the Book of Mormon! I will very much miss attending the temple. And being part of that fellowship of saints that would be my friends. (There were a few.)

But all that "stuff" the Mormon leadership has erected around itself, as if the gospel were their "domain", quite frankly, that wasn't for me. I never understood it. I never wanted to be part of it. I never got into "bishop" this and "president" that. It seemed so "foreign" to me (and still does). As if men can be "bought and paid for" with such things as titles, certificates and medallions. Will they sell themselves into submission to other men for the promise of glory and honor, too?

I do not worship a God like that.

I spoke with some Mormon missionaries recently, telling them what I thought a true "prophet" would be like:

He would be a "nobody"...a man sitting on his front lawn, in a beach chair, unrecognized by the world, wearing bermuda shorts and a tee-shirt and maybe a hat. He would speak with passers-by and spend more time than most, perhaps, in seemingly idle contemplation and conversation. He would smile at and play with children. He would be cheerful, beloved by his wife and (hopefully, by most of his) offspring.

Here and there someone would stop by and ask him for a blessing, or advice. "Brother So-and-So, tell me what the Savior is like?" or "What must I do to be healed?" The man of God would bear his "testimony" or place his hand on the recipient's head and pour out a message of comfort, inspiration and revelation directly from On High, if directed to do so, or say "Go and do [this or that], and you will have your blessing."

Or not.

Such things cannot be controlled by the will of men. But the man of God will invariably inspire patience, reassurance and, above all, faith in God in them that believe...who have ears to hear.

You don't need an "organization" to have heaven on earth.

You just need someone who knows God.