Why I Keep Going to Church

Photo of Brigham City Temple taken from lds.org

About a month ago an instructor at church asked the class why we kept coming to church. He elicited some answers from the group and continued with the lesson that had to do with ... honestly, I can't remember exactly what the main point of the lesson was. I was really drawn into that question. I thought, "Gee, I should have an answer to that question right now." But my mind was blank. I didn't have an answer right then. It was pretty disconcerting and I have been pondering this question since that time.



This question triggered a lesson I had in a priesthood meeting years earlier in college. The bishop or stake president asked us "What are you going to do when you are in your thirties, have kids, and don't really "feel it" at church? What are you going to do then?" The question also struck me at that time, too. But I didn't really think that it could happen to me. But, you know what? It did and it has and it does happen to me.

There are multiple reasons not to go to church, ranging from difficulty with young children to more philosophical issues.

There are some Sundays when I don't want to be there. I just recently got out of primary after 2 years. There were some Sundays when it was really hard to face a class of 8-10 tweens who seemed to be engaged in a competition to see who could be more aloof and disengaged. Some Sundays it seems hard to get anything out of a lesson or talk while simultaneously wrestling a baby, hushing a 3 year old or getting a snack/book/crayon/whatever else for any of the children that my wife and I have. It can be embarrassing and hard to pay attention when your child breaks free and makes two full laps around the chapel, followed in hot pursuit by an older sister trying to stop him, while the speaker literally tracks their movement with her head in the middle of her talk (Yes, that did recently happen -Yes, it was really embarrassing). Under these types of circumstances - and many others that I haven't even written here - it really can be easy to ask - Why am I here?

The instructor's question also brought up some philosophical issues for me about the reasons behind my church attendance. I remember talking to a member of my bishopric in Norman, Oklahoma when I was at his house for dinner, having just started my doctoral program in counseling psychology. He made a comment that I found mildly offensive at the time, but now I can see was pretty wise. He encouraged me to be careful to keep my faith and testimony alive. The assumption of his statement was that it might be easy or tempting to let my faith go as I was embarking on years of studying the philophies of men and women. I would be ignorant to say that my study of psychology has not made practicing my religion difficult in some ways. It has challenged many notions that I held about the world, about myself, and about other people. It has challenged my ideas of God and the way that people view God. All of this, however, I feel has been extremely positive - though difficult at times.

As I have been pondering why I attend church, I have been reminded of a conversation about religion I had with a preacher from a charismatic Christian denomination while on an airplane. When he found out that I was born into a Mormon family, he remarked in an attempt to make me reassess my religious devotion, "Of course you believe that, you were raised to believe it."  If I take this line of thinking to its logical conclusion, the end result is that each person is taught some type of value system, belief, or orienting principles. If each of these is just something inherited and believed in or carried on because it is just part of family tradition or maintaining a status quo, then who is to say which is more valid or more correct? Trying to fight about who is right is completely pointless because each system of belief would simply be a construct created by and for human consumption. This is basically the idea behind relativism and constructivist theories - that reality is socially constructed by the individual or group.

If this is true, then there certainly is no reason (other than social acceptance, societal pressure, or other such reasons) to maintain activity in religious belief and church going. However, think about what this is really, truly saying. At the end of it all - those who kill in the name of their God are just as correct as those who love their neighbor in the service of theirs. This just doesn't jive.

Now, humanists will say, Of course that doesn't jive. Anything that hurts another person is inherently wrong because it violates moral law. It is best to just get rid of God altogether because human interpretation of this authoritarian figure is causing a whole host of problems.

So, if many people have different views, beliefs, and rituals and likely feel as strongly about them as I do about mine...
And, if people's interpretation of God can cause significant harm...
And when I actually do go, there are inherent challenges because of young children, etc....

Why do I continue to go to church?

One simple answer is that in the midst of these distractions and annoyances, God continues to nudge my soul. A word or two from a talk will stand out, a primary song will touch me deeply and move me to tears (I love singing time in primary, by the way!), or a comment in a lesson will be spot on with what I need to hear. Usually these are nudges about what I need to do better - and I feel more inspired to do them. This happens almost every Sunday.

Yes, the question then becomes, "Can't this happen to anyone regardless of their faith?" And the answer is "Yes! Of course God can speak to anyone and uses many means to do so. I have personally felt the spirit in other churches when truth was being taught.

Then, why do I continue to go to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Just tradition? Just habit? Too much investment? It would probably be disingenuous to say that these reasons don't play a part, but at the same time, I have had spiritual experiences about LDS-specific doctrine and teachings. I will tell you about one that I frequently think about.

I was studying the Book of Mormon and had recently been taught about praying in faith and truly expecting to receive answers to prayer. I figured that I would also try to do this. I recognized that I had experienced the feelings of the spirit before at church meetings and had never doubted doctrines of the church, but also had never really had a strong confirmation through the spirit that what I was being taught about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith was true. I guess you could say I wanted God to reveal the truth to me regarding the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith's prophetic mission. I prayed morning and night about this. After about a week I was attending the temple and the most incredible feeling entered my body. It was a sweet, warm, and intense feeling inside. Words honestly can't describe the depth or power of that experience. Tears filled my eyes and a deep peace filled my soul. I just knew it was true. I just knew that the Book of Mormon was a record that was brought forward by Joseph Smith at the direction of God. And it was true. Joseph Smith was a prophet.

Since that experience my feelings and faith have waxed and waned and sometimes it is hard to feel the same way, but I often go back and remember this experience when questions arise that I don't completely understand.

Now again, the philosophical argument to counter this experience is the self-fulfilling prophecy and confirmatory bias - basically the ideas that if we want something (or expect something) strongly enough, we usually act in ways to create it, and people tend to look for evidence to support what they already believe. Again, I can't dispute the existence of these psychological tendencies, but at the same time, I can't dispute the power of my personal experience either. I know that there will be people who read this and think my experience is just my metaphorical hand touching the part of the elephant that I can feel and describe - that my experience is just my own truth and that's great for me. But, if I'm trying to claim that this is some kind of objective truth, I am clearly deluding myself.

My answer is simply this - I don't have to convince anybody. It is not my burden to do so. I have been given a spiritual witness. I have felt it and I trust that. Now, even through children's crying fits, broken Cheerios on the carpet, and children who want to run off down the aisle, I am somehow given inspiration, spiritual nudges about course corrections I need in my life, and am taught truths that have blessed my life. Despite doubts and some confusion, I can continue to feel God's presence in my life and have spiritual experiences as I participate in rituals and lessons at church.

So, in the end, even though there may be hundreds of reasons to stay home - and it would certainly be easier to do so...
And even though I don't completely understand everything...
And even though I am not 100% free of doubts regarding certain topics or issues...

I go because I believe it is true.

I stay because I believe it is true.

And I believe that staying has made me a better person.

 I bet you can guess which kid is the runner... 

If you would like to share why you go to church (regardless of which one you attend) and how it has blessed your life, please share!

Racecar dresser and side table



It's been a while since I blogged about a project my wife has completed. I promised in an earlier blog post about pregnancy nesting to write about the dresser drawers and side table that my wife was refurbishing. Yeah, that was a long time ago.








These drawers and the side table have been in my family for many years. They first belonged to my grandparents, then my mom and dad were given the drawers and my sisters and I used them in turn while growing up. When my wife and I bought our first home together, my parents gave them to us and now our children can use them. Here is what they used to look like:



They were in pretty good condition, but I can't help but think of Yoda or gremlins every time I look the handles. Despite the Yoda/gremlin resemblance, when my wife brought up the idea of refurbishing the drawers, I was against it. Yes, I know, I really need to learn to just listen to her better. Seriously. I am one of those guys who is fairly traditional and somewhat sentimental about things. I thought, shoot, these drawers have been in the family for many years and you just want to change them? Her response, "Yeah, that's right. They're kind of ugly." Point taken.



So, here's what she did. First she stripped them down with a sander. Here's the result:

Then she filled in the screw holes for the handles with wood filler and sanded it down again.

Then came the fun part. She painted them blue. Bright blue. After they were dry she added a race car stripe on the front as an accent. She bought racecar flag drawer handles and let me install those.

The bottom portion of the dresser table used to have a door on a hinge, but our 3 year old pulled it off. It was pretty hard to open and close, so we just decided to keep it off for easier access.

 



My wife said that she used regular Behr paint. The racecar stripes are made out of checkered scrapbook paper. She painted some Mod Podge over the scrapbook paper to hold it in place. The racecar flag handles were purchased online.

My son has been enjoying these drawers in his room for about a year now. My wife completed this project when she was in her 2nd trimester of pregnancy. As usual, I'm very impressed with my wife and her talents and think that she did an awesome job!

Love is not Easy

I recently had a conversation about the movie American Sniper with some combat veterans. About half indicated they had seen the movie and thought it was good. In the midst of this conversation the notion of sacrifice and love came up. Love for country and love for those with whom he served kept bringing Mr. Kyle back to combat. The movie also depicts his struggle to connect and experience love for and from his family. The discussion went in a few directions, but eventually ended with how Mr. Kyle spent a good portion of his life after his military service helping fellow veterans and trying to rehabilitate them. It was exactly this service which led to his untimely death.

This discussion touched me deeply and I have been thinking ever since about the idea that love is not an easy experience. I say "experience" because love isn't defined by just a feeling or emotion, nor is it encapsulated by a single action. What I mean is that when we love someone or something we generally act in a way that demonstrates that love - repeatedly. It usually entails a certain degree of sacrifice, often a great deal of sacrifice.

In the midst of the conversation with these veterans, my thoughts went to my wife and children. Loving them is easy, but at the same time it really isn't. I know that sounds bad or immoral in some way, but loving them requires doing some things I would rather not do and may ask me to go through experiences that are difficult and painful. For instance, love requires getting up early in the morning to feed a crying baby, changing a pair of underwear in a public restroom after an accident, playing with Barbie dolls, doing the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, and many other tasks. As my mind's eye looks ahead, I know that trials larger than soiled underwear or dirty dishes will likely come - whether it be sickness, a child making poor choices leading to terrible consequences, suffering, conflict, or even death. Sometimes love induces grief. I often tell clients who are grieving the loss of a loved one that, just as they would never stop loving that person, their grief will likely continue to be a part of their life. In fact, that grief is a way of knowing how deeply and truly they loved that other person. When our loved one suffers, it causes us to suffer as well. There is no way to avoid pain, trial, and suffering in life and being able to share that with another - co-suffering - is a deep and beautiful expression of love.

Valentine's season is upon us and many people are celebrating their love. This is often expressed through flowers, jewelry, candy, cards, and other acts to demonstrate love and intimacy between couples. Love is generally associated with happiness, excitement, and tingly types of emotions. This is good and I would certainly not suggest that we shouldn't do these things.  Nor am I suggesting that love should always be difficult. Love can and should be fun! What I mean is that true love will test the boundaries of our ability to feel, care, and sacrifice. Along with the fun and happy times, the experience of truly loving another person completely means leaving oneself open to heartbreak, engaging in tasks that are less than desirable, and co-suffering.

Unfortunately, we have a counterpoint to this way of seeing love. In pop culture the idea of love is that it has to satisfy us and as soon as it doesn't, something is wrong. The relationship "isn't working out" or "fulfilling my needs." Being a mom or dad isn't "convenient" or "takes too much effort". The rising generation today has been termed by authors from Forbes to the NY Times as the "Selfie Generation" and I wonder whether the prominent love of self over all else has permeated society in many respects. And if so, what does that mean about our ability to overcome our own narcissism and truly love another person? Because true love requires that we strip away our natural proclivities toward narcissism. This narcissism has consumed and repackaged love in its own image. This mirage of love is often peddled in movies and on the TV, certainly in pornographic content. The focus is on the self "What can this other person do for or to me?" Instead, the question should be "what can I do for this other person?" My wife pointed out to me a few weeks ago a blog post discussing a statistical analysis from Porn Hub that found one of the most frequent comments made in pornographic websites was the word "love". Certainly this is a misnomer. I find it quite interesting that this weekend we have another movie recently released (purposefully around Valentine's Day) that will likely influence the way in which the viewers will understand love. I have only read a few snippets of the book and seen the movie trailers, but I have read enough to know that 50 Shades of Grey is basically erotic fiction about a guy who dominates a woman sexually. Sounds selfish, controlling, and narcissistic to me, none of which is love. Terming this movie a love story is a significant twisted co-opting of the term.

The best definition of true love that I can find is the description in 1 Corinthians 13. Paul uses these terms to describe love: it "suffereth long" "beareth all things" "endureth all things" "envieth not" "is not puffed up" and finally, love "never faileth." These attributes don't exactly sound easy to me - nor do they sound selfish. AND... I know that I fail on a daily basis at expressing this type of love to my wife and children and to others, but it is possible to practice and cultivate this type of love.

Toward the end of the conversation with these veterans, the thought came into my mind about Jesus Christ. The thought was this: Love was not easy for Him. He ended up nailed to a cross because of His love. How can you expect it to be easy for you if you are trying to emulate Him?

It was a humbling thought, but it makes me grateful for the One Perfect Example of love and the many imperfect examples that I have had in my life - my wife when she awakens to nurse a crying baby or spend hours planning and putting on a class Valentine's party for our daughter, my children when they play with each other and help and hug each other, my grandparents who spent years taking care of their spouses who were ill in health, active duty service members who sacrifice self and family for freedom and their country, and the veterans at the hospital when they care for each other in so many ways.

This Valentine's Day, I hope that we can enjoy the exciting, tingling, fun anticipation of being with our beloved (or just having some fun with friends). I hope we all enjoy this holiday and express love. I know that I will be trying to have a good time with my wife and children and make it special. Yet I want to be mindful of what true love has cost so many throughout history and that true love will always include sacrifice and suffering. Yet through these experiences the deepness of our love grows and becomes more powerful and beautiful.

Learning to walk and potty training

There has been a lot of bathroom talk in my house lately, a bit more nudity, and my youngest looks a little injured. No, we are not abusing our kids. Our middle child is potty training and the baby has been learning to walk. It's been coming for a couple weeks and he's just started to get fairly good at it. He falls a lot though, and sometimes when he falls he cuts, bangs, and bruises himself. My wife actually took this picture of him and asked a friend if it was okay to take him around without fear of someone calling CPS on us.

With each day he takes more and more steps. It's amazing! And hopefully, there will be fewer and fewer cuts and scrapes... But, he's a boy, and I'm guessing this is only the beginning for him.

Meanwhile, our 3 year old has been going through the joyous experience of potty training. My wife is such an all-star. The first day was pretty rough. I'm so glad I was at work. This might sound terrible and mean, but we decided that if our son had an accident he would have to get washed off in a quick cold shower. He soon learned that was not fun. Then, we also decided to reward him for successful elimination in the toilet. Turns out chocolate chips can be wildly rewarding - especially if you have a choice between brown and white. Starbursts are also quite rewarding.
I think my wife said he had ~9 cold showers on the first day. The next day, 2. The third day, he actually started to go to the potty all by himself. We heard his little voice come from down the hall, "I peed!" We had company over for a game night and both my wife and I thought, "Oh no, he had an accident." But, when my wife went to investigate, she discovered that instead of standing there awkwardly with wet pants, he was sitting on the toilet. She called out, "You peed in the potty! Yea!" I got up from the table where our friends were sitting and ran down the hall, arms in the air, like a quarterback does after throwing a touchdown. That was probably the best moment of the week. It was the first time he had independently gone to the toilet. Our family had a little potty party as we clapped for him on the toilet - a very proud moment, indeed.

As most people who have been through it already know, potty training is a process, and can be a difficult one for both parent and child. I understand very well the frustration of asking my child if he has to go... "NO!" comes the response. Then, lo and behold, a minute later there is a puddle on my wife's cedar chest. Gag!

Though it is certainly frustrating and maddening for the parents at times, it can also be really hard for the child. Consider this recent vignette: My son likes to poop in private and it has been difficult getting him to go on the toilet. One night, he really put forth the effort and I made my way in and out of the bathroom to check on him and make sure he was okay, but also give him the requisite privacy. So, I hear his loud squeal of a cry and make a mad dash to the bathroom. What I found was a bit horrifying, a little disgusting, kinda sad, but awesome at the same time. My son was sitting on the potty, sobbing, mumbling the words "poop", and showed me his hand. Yup, he had poo on his hand, his poo that should have been in the toilet was on his seat, a little of it was smeared on the seat, and you can guess that it was also smeared on his backside as well. I immediately thought of that episode of South Park where one of the kids smears poop all over the walls. At least it wasn't that bad.
At the same time, I was so proud of him. A little grossed out, true, but he totally went for it! It wasn't perfect, he got a little messy, a little sad, and maybe a little freaked out, but he did it. Unfortunately he hasn't pooped on the potty since then. So, maybe it was a bit traumatic.... here's hoping for a 2nd number 2 in the toilet.

I'm definitely not putting a picture of anything potty training related up here... You're welcome.

As I have been thinking about these experiences that my sons are having - learning to walk and potty training - there are some similarities. First, they are transitions from one stage to another. They represent progression in development. Second, they can be painful. Both of my sons have cried as a result of unsuccessful attempts. Third, success brings extreme joy. Our baby was so happy and proud when he was first able to walk to daddy or mommy and get a huge hug. The 3 year old has made it a habit that he runs stark naked down the hall and into whatever room we are occupying to announce that he "went pee pee in the potty." Modesty will come later. It has only really been a problem when our daughter had a friend over - kinda freaked her out a bit.

These experiences have brought back some words of a talk by Dieter F. Uchdorf when he spoke about learning to walk. He said,

"We have all seen a toddler learn to walk. He takes a small step and totters. He falls. Do we scold such an attempt? Of course not. What father would punish a toddler for stumbling? We encourage, we applaud, and we praise because with every small step, the child is becoming more like his parents. 

"...compared to the perfection of God, we mortals are scarcely more than awkward, faltering toddlers. But our loving Heavenly Father wants us to become more like Him... that should be our eternal goal too. God understands that we get there not in an instant but by taking one step at a time."

I love these words because they encapsulate perfectly this mortal life. We are trying to grow, to become better, to progress. But it's hard. We fall, we get messy, and we cry sometimes. Occasionally we have consequences that we would rather not have. But all along the way God is there. His spirit continues to encourage and strengthen us, to help us on the path back home. We have been given the help we need to get back through His Son. Regardless of how bumped, bruised, or soiled we may become through our mortal life, God continues to love us. He knows that mess ups will happen and he loves us through them. No matter what. All we have to do is keep trying.

 

If you feel like sharing, what things in your life help you to know that you are still loved (by God, by family, friends, etc.) despite seeming failures along the way?