I had a meeting with my bishop today who wanted to talk to me about a few comments I’ve made in ward settings over the past month. This is not a dunk session—he was very kind and obviously trying to understand. But I left feeling like I was at an impasse we’d never clear. 1/

In ward council a few weeks ago, the bishopric asked us what we should do to get people back to church, because like many congregations, our numbers have dropped significantly since COVID. And I decided to be vulnerable and say this: 2/

People don’t come to church because there aren’t enough activities. They leave bc the doctrines and the way they’re taught don’t feed them anymore. And then I admitted I’m struggling with almost every aspect of my belief system and reminded them there are others like me. 3/

We show up. We talk. We ask questions. And then we go home feeling empty and abandoned and lonely because the wilderness of faith is so hard to cross alone. I urged the group to make church a place where doubters could express their concerns and trouble the comfortable. 4/

So today, the bishop calls me in to ask about that comment and get my perspective on how we do that. I explain that those who doubt—who have big problems with the philosophical concerns of the LDS faith—struggle because those issues affect their relationship with God. 5/

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating—you cannot worship a God who oppresses you. And a God who implements racist temple bans, forces teenagers to become plural wives, and ostracizes our LGBTQ+ siblings is oppressive. 6/

His response was one I’ve come to dread—that even though he doesn’t know some things , he does know the church is true and that’s enough. No matter how I tried to phrase it, I couldn’t make him understand that for many (myself included), it doesn’t feel like enough anymore. 7/

He emphasized wanting to create a place where people could share their doubts, but repeated over and over he didn’t want a “gripe session,” because more faithful members didn’t want that. And I told him, “Doubters need some sort or validation though.” 8/

He agreed, but then told me that any meeting that causes people to walk away with more questions than they came with—if people leave confused or wondering or hurting—we did it wrong. And all I wanted to scream was, “THAT’S HOW I FEEL ALL THE TIME.” 9/

And I’m just wishing and hoping and needing a church community that lets us be uncomfortable. That lets us be troubled by things that should trouble us, that forces our hearts to hurt so we can heal ourselves and our neighbors. 10/

We left it at that, and I’m writing this in my car in the parking lot, just... dejected. Wanting more, and always being left hungry. I want a faith that’s robust enough to let grow through complicated issues, not despite of them. And it feels like I want too much. /Fin