Why I stay

Someone recently asked me why I stay in the LDS church.

This person knows my far left stance on politics and social issues and has seen me call out the church and its members on several occasions.

And I appreciate the way the question was worded. Usually, the question is, “Why don’t you just leave?” That implies to me that there is only one solution.

So, why do I stay?

Well, as I responded to that person, it’s complex. I was short on time, so I couldn’t explain it then. Writing about it gives me a chance to think about it and organize my thoughts.

First of all, I seriously considered leaving when the 2015 exclusionary policy came out. It was a gruelling decision that didn’t come easily. And despite deciding to stay, the option to leave is still on the table and one I’ve contemplated several times since.

I think the biggest thing is that I’m still Mormon. Despite not being born in the church, Mormonism is still a part of me. Its theology is in my soul and its liturgy speaks to me. There’s still something about the symbolism found in its ordinances, how they bridge the human and the divine, the known and the unknown, the observed and the mysterious.

Anyone who has been following my poetry can probably tell that the esoteric is meaningful to me. Angels, and heaven, and gods, and afterlife, and visions, and stones, and plates, they all fascinate me.

And, sure, I realize I don’t need to attend to believe in the esoteric. Heck, my most spiritual experiences over the last year have been in nature and not in a building. But attending a building that feels empty still keeps me connected to those bridging ordinances.

Speaking of bridges, another reason I stay is my ability, through the priesthood, to be a conduit with heaven. Even though I don’t have frequent opportunities anymore to use my priesthood to petition heaven on another’s behalf, the potential still has meaning for me.

Related to ordinances and priesthood is the idea of cultural milestones. Beyond the spiritual aspects, I find value in seeing my children hit the cultural milestones of baby blessings, baptism, graduating primary, completing seminary, serving missions, receiving endowments, and marrying in the temple. Especially when I can be a part of the process. And not necessarily because I think they have to complete them, but I see them in the same way Catholics see first communion or confirmation or Jewish people see bar/bat mitzvahs.

Another reason I stay is community. I fully realize that community is found outside the church, but community is one reason I stay, not the only reason. And even though my church relationships don’t seem to have much depth anymore and some fellow ward members report me to the bishop for blog posts or warn new move-ins about me, I still appreciate the warm handshakes, the cordial smiles, and the friendly how-are-yous. And one thing Mormons are good at is rallying together to help someone, hearkening back to the communitarian beginnings of the church, and I like when I can be a part of that.

The final reason I stay is I want to see change. I believe that God wants us to live in an egalitarian society. And as such, I believe that ultimately we need to eliminate all discrimination, whether it be race, sex, orientation, gender, orientation, ethnicity, or belief. If all those who advocate for equality leave, no one remains to change minds or to create cultural pressure to adjust discriminatory teachings, practices, or policies. And that change will occur at a much slower rate. We need more advocates, not fewer.

Every time I once again contemplate leaving, I go through the complex process of evaluating the cost of losing all these things I value. And whether those costs are worth it for me to have a more comfortable life. Especially since my life is one of privilege and the only thing I give up by staying is comfort. Which is a far smaller threat than that which marginalized groups have to bear.

Plus, I get a kick out of every time someone asks, “Wait. You’re Mormon?”