An Uncomfortable Condition

“Don’t you dare bail. I am so furious with people who leave This Church. I don’t know whether ‘furious’ is a good apostolic word. But I am. What on earth kind of conviction is that? What kind of patty-cake, taffy-pull experience is that? As if none of this ever mattered. As if nothing in our contemporary life mattered. As if this is all just supposed to be “just exactly the way I want it and answer every one of my questions and pursue this and occupy that and defy this – and then maybe I’ll be a Latter-Day Saint!?” Well, there’s too much Irish in me for that.”
Apostle Jeffery R. Holland (audio link)

Mr. Holland was not yet an apostle when I was a Conference watcher, so I don’t have much experience with him, but may I offer a brief riposte to the above tersely worded statement?

Dare to bail.  I am so joyous when someone grabs hold of truth, and facts, and reason.  To take the path they know is right, even in the face of difficulty.  I don’t know whether ‘joyous’ is a very good heathen word.  But what on Earth kind of conviction does that take?  What kind of fidelity to veracity?   To let your ability to reason and logic lead you into the unknown and unfamiliar?  Just as if this all is exactly the way it is supposed to be, with all it’s warts and problems, and that “I don’t know, but I will strive to learn more” is a perfectly acceptable answer to hard questions.  To admit that knowing something with your heart isn’t the best way to know anything, and that not knowing is far more honest.

Well, I suppose there’s just enough skepticism in me for that.

Bail on beliefs that can be shown to be false.

Bail on beliefs that cause more strife than they relieve.

Bail on organizations that promise hope and deliver pain.

Bail on leaders who command sacrifice and give none of themselves.

In the words of a man much wiser than I, “Believe as many true things and as few false things as possible.”

“Doubt is an uncomfortable condition, but certainty is a
ridiculous one.” – Voltair

Well Documented Evidence

“Some have mistakenly argued that any variation in the retelling of the story is evidence of fabrication. To the contrary, the rich historical record enables us to learn more about this remarkable event than we could if they were less well-documented.” — Richard J. Maynes, Seventy

The founder of the Mormon faith, Joseph Smith Jr., began his journey to prophet with an event that has been called “The First Vision.”  When I was growing up as a young Mormon boy, I was told that Joseph knelt to pray in a grove of trees to ask God which of the many churches was true.  According to the story I was told, Joseph was visited by both Heavenly Father (God) and Jesus Christ, who told him none of the churches were true, and that he was to found a new one.

In the 17 years I was active in The LDS Church, that was the only version of the story I ever heard.  It turns out that there are many versions, with widely differing timelines and subject matters.  The LDS Church even has an official essay on the subject, and you can read them for yourself at The Joseph Smith Papers Project.

FirstVisionsMormonInfographics

For many people, who were as ignorant to these facts as I once was, discovering this can be a bit faith-shaking.  This event is absolutely pivotal and essential in the Joseph Smith narrative, and the inconsistencies are troubling. One might think that such a momentous moment as meeting God, or God and Jesus, or an angel, or a Pillar of Fire, would be distinctly memorable.

If this is bothersome to you, let not  your heart be troubled;  Elder Richard Maynes explains how differing versions of an important story, with different dates, and different people, with different messages actually make The First Vision “the best-documented vision in history.”

To demonstrate my particular reaction to this breach of logic and reason, I present my original one-act play:

The Best Documented Dinner in History

[Scene:  Interior.  A small police department interrogation room.  Two detectives (Cop #1 and Cop #2 stand at a table in front of a seated ‘Gary’]

Cop #1: Hey, Gary. We brought you in because someone said they saw you over by the old Buckner place last Monday, just before it was robbed. Can you tell us where you were last Monday night? At about 7:30pm?

Gary: Oh. I was at dinner.

Cop #2: Yeah? Where’d you go? Any good?

Gary: Oh, yeah. New taco restaurant. ‘Los Amgios.’ Great chorizo.

Cop #1: That sounds great. What time did you get there?

Gary: Let me see. I started walking from my place at about 7:00.

Cop #2: And how far away do you live?

Gary: About 3 miles, which is why I took my bike.

Cop #1: But you just said you started walking?

Gary: That’s right I started walking over to Les Poissons, the French place.

Cop #2: Huh? Didn’t you say you were going to ‘Los Amigos’?

Gary: I did. It’s really good.

Cop #1: What about Les Poissons?

Gary: It’s really good.

Cop #2: Did you get a receipt?

Gary: Yup! It’s there in my wallet.

Cop #1: [shuffles through the wallet] Is this the one? To a restaurant called The Burger Bar?

Gary: Yup! I drove over there at a quarter after seven last Monday.

Cop #1: Is he putting me on, or am I putting him on?

Cop #2: So, on last Monday, you walked to a Mexican restaurant, biked to a French restaurant, and then drove to a burger joint, all on the same night, during roughly the same time period?

Gary: Of course! The consistent inconsistency proves how true it is.

Poisoned Pueblo

“No!  Help!  Help me!” I cried out, loudly, to all the people in the McDonald’s.

“Shut the hell up!” Tiana started dragging me toward the doors.

“Help!” I screamed, looking around at all the moms and their kids bustling to the play area and bending over their Happy Meals. “Help me!  Don’t let her take me!  Please!”

No one even looked at me.

 

The above is a passage from Saving Alex a memoir from Alex Cooper, which I am currently reading.  The biography describes Ms. Cooper’s 2010 ordeal with Southern Utah “conversion therapy” after she came out to her parents as gay.

My favorite novel of all time is It by Stephen King.  That story features the town of Derry, built around, haunted, and possessed by an ancient soul-devouring monster.  When I read the passage above, I thought of this passage from It, in which one of the characters is running from the monster who has possessed her father:

If he caught her he would choke her, or beat her, or kick her. And when it was over, someone would come and collect him and he would sit in a cell the way Eddie Cochran’s stepfather was sitting in a cell, dazed and uncomprehending.
She ran toward downtown, passing more and more people as she went. They stared – first at her, then at her pursuing father – and they looked surprised, some of them even amazed. But what was on their faces went no further. They looked and then they went on toward wherever they had been going.

I believe that few individuals are true monsters.  They are rarely as racist as David Duke, or as bigoted as Gayle Ruzicka, or as misogynistic as Donald Drumpf.  I think our society, however,  exposed to the constant diseased energy of these individually demons can amplify that hate, ignorance, and bigotry; can cause good people to do bad things, or, sometimes worse, nothing at all.

We’ve all heard of mob mentality; when a group of people start acting viciously, and that emotion permeates the mob, and keeps building, and building, and building on itself until it reaches a frenzy level?  It seems as if this soft racism, this soft bigotry, this soft acceptance of misinformation and willful ignorance is somehow more insidious and more pervasive, infecting even the most good hearted of people with the willingness to condemn, judge, and cast aside people they don’t even know, for the most inexcusable of reasons.  It quietly encourages the populace to vote for politicians who promise to hurt the minorities among us – even should they not tacitly agree.  To support or simply ignore the passing laws that only serve to further wound the vulnerable.  To become defacto lesser demons of the true monsters.

I can only hope that, like the Stephen King novel, empathy, love, and unconditional friendship can defeat the monstrous.

A Wave of Truth

“You can leave The Church, but you can’t leave it alone.”

The quote above is a common phrase wielded at former members, like myself, who continue to expend time and energy to talk, write, and discuss various Mormon topics.

Members seem to wonder why those of us who don’t believe still care what anyone else believes?  This is not limited to Mormons; atheists are often asked the same question by believers of all faiths.

If anyone should understand the impetus to share new knowledge gained by hard work and research, however, it should be The Mormons.

The LDS Church sends out tens of thousands of missionaries each year.  Most of those young men and women leave home with the assurance they possess a knowledge that needs to be shared.  They know something that much of the world does not and are desperate to hear.

Those of us who have researched unofficial LDS History,  other faiths, religions, and philosophies also feel that we have discovered something that many around us have not.  We have new knowledge!  New information!  Many of us grew up in homes where knowing Church History was considered a duty and a virtue. When we encounter facts and writings and events that were heretofore unknown to us, our inclination and desire is to share it – especially with our loved ones – even if that knowledge contradicts and calls into question the claims of that same Church.

I left The LDS Church when young and angry and rebellious.  I tried once or twice to discuss my then less-than-scholarly objections with family members, only to feel unheard.  I think it discouraged me from being more frank and honest for years.  As I continue to read more and more, and learn more and more — and there is ALWAYS something more — I want to share my message.  I want to share what I believe to be the truth, as I have it.  I want those I love most to know what I know, because, ultimately it has made me happier and more fulfilled knowing that nothing needs be unquestioned.  Nothing needs be unresearched.  I can try (and fail) to understand EVERYTHING.  Just as LDS missionaries believe their message to be, I believe my message is one of joy and fulfillment!

A former ward-member once chastised me outside of the SLC Temple at a sibling’s wedding.  I penned an unsent letter in which I wrote:

I am not sorry for questioning my beliefs, past or current, even if it seems unpleasant to do so at the time.  I still remember the story of a 14-year-old boy questioning the teachings of those closest to him.

I often ponder Mormons’ seeming distaste for questioning the status quo of their faith whilst simultaneously holding Joseph Smith’s prayer in The Grove in such high esteem.  What if Joseph had been too afraid to walk into that grove?  Too afraid of destroying what he already knew with what he might learn?

Either knowing Church history is a virtue or a vice.  Either questioning is a virtue or a vice.  It can’t be both.

In that same letter, I also wrote:

I will grant that, however unlikely, it is possible that someday, due to continued searching and questioning, I may find that the initial teachings of my life were always correct.  If so, I will humbly admit my mistakes and return.  Having said that, if such a thing does occur, it will not because someone tells me that my father always wanted me to view the Temple, or because I want to see my sister’s wedding.  It will be because I have spent hours, years,  and perhaps decades in careful reflection of those beliefs.  There is no end on the journey for knowledge and understanding; only rest areas.

But you can’t find new knowledge by refusing to look for it.

http://www.cesletter.com

http://en.fairmormon.org/Criticism_of_Mormonism/Online_documents/Letter_to_a_CES_Director

http://cesletter.com/debunking-fairmormon/

Sinews of The Soul

This is my much-less polite and anger filled resignation letter, as opposed to the message I sent to my immediate family.  This was originally posted at The Friendly Atheist.

—-

Dear LDS Church,

It is amazing how much The Church has changed since my early Mormon upbringing. So many of the messages and teachings have changed and evolved over time. For example, when attending church:

Yes. This last revelation was the straw that finally prompted this long overdue letter.

Although I have found other policies of The LDS Church hurtful, ignorant, and bigoted, this last policy change seems so malicious. So full of hatred. And I won’t be a member of a hate group, even in name only.

I received many odd and certainly unique lessons on sexual morality, and was frequently told in oblique ways that homosexuality was a sin, I was never taught that this kind of sexual immorality would damn the salvation of my children.

The LDS Church claims to be a loving, knowledgeable, and charitable representative of a just and loving god, but their actions speak louder than their empty words.

Potential converts to The LDS Church are asked to commit to baptism in the first discussion, then rapidly pushed through a shallow and superficial version of The Church’s doctrine and history in a mad dash to get them under the water and on the membership roles.

Eight-year-old children are encouraged, expected, and demanded to make lifetime commitments they cannot possibly understand, to a church which continues to hide, obscure, and deny it’s history and doctrines.  Heavenly Fathers wants everyone, and quickly, before they start looking too deeply into the closet.

Except in this one special case; a child raised by same-sex parents.

Even if that child is raised in this fraud of a church by those loving, caring parents. Even if that child believes with all his/her tiny, pure heart that there is a Heavenly Father, and that Jesus knows and loves each of his beloved and innocent children. Even if all that child wants for their eighth birthday is to be washed clean of their supposed “sins.”

The LDS Church will tell them, “No. You are lesser in the eyes of Jesus and Heavenly Father.”

“Though you have done nothing wrong, your parents are the worst kind of sinners.  Jesus does not want you as a member of His church, nor will He take you until you are old enough to curse the names of those who loved and raised you, and shake the dust off your feet at their doorstep.”

As of the writing of this letter, I am an atheist and an ex-Mormon.  Should a Mormon member take my young child to be blessed into your twisted organization, however, my child would be accepted and blessed without pause or question because I am married to a member of the opposite sex.

This hate-filled policy is designed only to cause injury to an already injured population; the same-sex attracted people who The Church considers to be the loved children of Heavenly Father, who are doing their best to make it through this life whilst still maintaining some measure of belief in the deceitful message of eternity and love that you spout between vicious jabs at these wounded souls. It cannot and does not serve any other purpose.

This manipulative “guilt by association” is revolting behavior from anyone, let alone an organization which spends so much time talking out the side of its mouth about the importance and necessity of love, acceptance, and eternal families.

I have not claimed membership in this deception for years, but have never felt it useful or necessary to make it official. I do now. I cannot and will not allow you to continue to count me amongst your hateful, heinous, hurtful, and peculiar number any longer.

I hereby resign my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

A Next Step

Dear friends and family,

I want to let you know that I am resigning my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Though likely unwelcome news to many, it probably doesn’t come as a surprise as I have not regularly attended church service in nearly 20 years, and no longer believe in a god.  Why do I feel it necessary now? To officially cancel my ties with The Church? As has probably been guessed, the new anti-LGBT policies of The Church are the last straw for me.

I hurt so much for those true believing children who were just told by the trusted and beloved representatives of their loving Heavenly Father and Savior that they were lesser and unworthy.

I clearly remember my own child-like and singular love and trust in Jesus — so pure and innocent and all-consuming. Jesus, who gave only love and comfort and acceptance; never a rebuke, even in the face of sin.

Because I remember that so clearly, an image comes to me of having that very love and trust bludgeoned by a visit from President Benson, on the day of my Baptism, suddenly breaking the news to me that Jesus won’t have me as a member of His church today.

I can imagine my heart breaking in my chest as President Hinckley shows up at our ward house, and stops my father’s hands, only to tell me that Heavenly Father will not have me as a member of His Priesthood today.

I imagine being filled with such abject misery and hopelessness when my Primary teacher tells our class that “Heavenly Father needs and wants all of your chosen generation, but not you.  Not you.”

Though I no longer believe in the importance of these events, the thought of the children going through less dramatic but nonetheless real versions of those scenarios right now fills me with heartache. That’s why I’m angry for them. That’s why I hurt for them. That’s why I feel it necessary to take this action.

I’ve considered this final step over the years, but this is the reason I’ve finally decided it’s necessary; to protest a church claiming to speak for a God of love and acceptance, which instead seemingly teaches children hate, exclusion, and shame. Teaching them that they will not only be punished for their own sins, but also for their parents’ love.

I understand that we may have different understandings and interpretations of this policy. I have read several different official, semi-official, and unofficial attempts to explain how this new policy is not vicious nor malicious. I’ve watched D. Todd Christofferson’s reaction video. I’ve read the letter from The First Presidency. I’ve read the press-release from Michael Otterson. I sincerely disagree with all of these rationalizations and explanations.

I don’t mean to preach in this letter, but I felt I owed at least a brief explanation before I join the other compassionate and empathetic believers and non-believers in requesting that we no longer to be counted among the membership of this church.

If this hurts you personally, I am truly sorry. It is not my intent, though that may be cold comfort.

Any and all of you are more than welcome to tell me or ask me anything you like, so long as we can remain a loving family in doing so. I love and value and respect each of you and know that each of us is walking our own path as best we know how.

Straight and Delightsome

In the last week there have been 2 significant changes to the LDS “Handbook 1” (which goes to the stake and bishop leadership levels), both relating to homosexuals. Changes listed here.

The first is that homosexuals that are in a same-sex marriage are now considered apostates by the church.

For those that don’t know, in particular, that means that they have actively and willfully turned their back on God.  One does not become an apostate by simply not going to church.

This is viewed as one of the worst things that a person can do in the LDS church.  Even murderers, child molesters, and rapists are not considered apostates.

As though that weren’t heinous enough, the second change takes that level of mistreatment of humanity to a new level.

Children of same-sex couples now cannot be baptized and become members of the church, until such time as they are 18 years old, and disavow their parents’ marriage. Let me repeat that… DISAVOW their parents’ marriage.

This originally was thought to be disavowing their parents, but it is mentioned specifically disavowing same-sex marriage or cohabitation.  One church leader made this clarification, as though it was better than disavowing one’s parents.  “Hey moms… I love you, but you’re apostates and I can’t support your relationship together.”  This is more of the “love the sinner, hate the sin” filth that we’ve seen before.

The idea that one can love the sinner, yet hate the sin, especially in this case, is preposterous on its face.  It provides a false sense of not being hurtful to others for what you believe.

It has also been “clarified” by LDS church leadership that it is to protect the children of persons who are in same-sex relationships.  That the child would become confused because of a difference of church and family teachings.

In the LDS church, most are baptized at the age of 8, and upon confirmation, it is thought that you then are directed by the “Holy Ghost” to know the difference between right and wrong.  It is thought that after baptism, you need repent if you do ‘wrong’ because you have the Holy Ghost and faculties to KNOW those differences.  The question this brings up, in the case that a same-sex couple give a child permission to become baptized at the age of 8, would the Holy Ghost not be able to provide those answers?  Is the Holy Ghost that impotent?

As has been blatantly apparent, I’m not a fan of organized religion, but this takes it to a new level. I now consider the LDS church to be hate group.

I’ll expand, in case you think I’m being unfair.

Children of other types of individuals can be baptized (with parental permission) at the age of 8, including, but not limited to, children of murderers, rapists, child molesters, terrorists, and drug dealers. Yet, children of persons that are in a same-sex relationship apparently are special, and not in a good way.

As a friend posited to me shortly after this information was available, it seems that now that the control the LDS church tried to exert previously on same-sex marriage has been lost nationwide, and it’s turning on its own membership.

This does not punish same-sex couples. It punishes children. A child that is actively going to church will now be ridiculed by his or her peers because they are not getting baptized.  Being a Utahn, I was ridiculed at 8 because I wasn’t getting baptized, and I wasn’t LDS.

These rules cannot come from anywhere but hate for homosexuality and an inability to affect public change. Hence, hate group.

I’m sure we’ll see plenty of apologists attempt to provide reasons for why this is a necessity, and is part of a loving God, but it’ll take a lot of convincing for me to see why this is anything but human hatred coming from a place of power.

Father of the Eon

“To be the father of growing daughters is to understand something of what Yeats evokes with his imperishable phrase ‘terrible beauty.’ Nothing can make one so happily exhilarated or so frightened: it’s a solid lesson in the limitations of self to realize that your heart is running around inside someone else’s body. It also makes me quite astonishingly calm at the thought of death: I know whom I would die to protect and I also understand that nobody but a lugubrious serf can possibly wish for a father who never goes away.”  — Christopher Hitchens

Religious people, especially Mormons, often talk about how God as if he is like our father. Our “spiritual” father.  He loves each and every one of us. He cares for us, watches our progress, and is either proud or disappointed in us and our choices. That does sound fatherly, doesn’t it?

Except, is it fatherly that He never tells us what He wants? Rather, God told people He knew before we were born to write down what He wants in a language we don’t speak?

Is it fatherly that He doesn’t give us those writings? Rather, we, His children, are supposed to stumble upon those writings, or be told about those writings, and buy those writings, and somehow know that they came from Him?

Is it fatherly that Our Father punishes or rewards us, in this life or the next, on whether we found those writings, then somehow knew that they were His inspired transcriptions, and were somehow able to live up to His demanding expectations?

Is it fatherly of God to utterly ignore us when we ask hard complicated questions?  Is it fatherly to answer, “It’s complicated and mysterious” rather than “Jerry lied on his resume. That’s wrong, so to teach him a lesson I gave him cancer” or “Elaine got HIV by accident. She’s largely a good person.”

Was it fatherly of Our Father to violently drown thousands/millions of our brothers and sisters, even the children and infants and pregnant women, because He was mad with most of the adults?

Is it fatherly to allow thousands of our brothers and sisters die horrifically in a natural catastrophe like an Earthquake when God has the power to prevent it?  Or miraculously save them?  Or even create a planet without tectonic plates in the first place?

If that is what it means to be fatherly, then I am a more terrible father than I first imagined.

Because, when my daughter asks me a question, I answer it as best I can, even if it’s over her head. I don’t ignore her entirely, say nothing, and let a friend who believes he knows what I want her to know tell her that the answer is a book written cryptically in Klingon.

When I want her to clean up her toys, I instruct her, “Clean up your toys, please.” I don’t write my instructions on a Post-It and hide it amongst a pile of other possibly related, but mostly unrelated and historically insignificant Post-Its and expect her to find it, and, if she doesn’t, severely punish her in an obscure way at some point far in the future.

I would never move her into a poorly constructed house prone to causing death and dismemberment and, when the inevitable accident occurred, write on a Post-It, “It’s just a test of your character. I think you’ll do fine with one arm. You can thank me and love me, but blame me or question my motives for this latest hardship and I’ll punish you more.”

God doesn’t act fatherly. He acts exactly as if He didn’t exist.

Intrinsically Impossible Power

In my quest for understanding and empathy, I frequently find myself having imaginary debates with imaginary religious people. Regardless of the subject of the debate, a question I repeatedly ask is, “Why do the religious believe that God is so impotent and powerless?”

That may seem an odd question, assuming that most religious people consider God to be the omnipotent creator of all things – and often the cause of massive, inexplicable miracles. To me however, from the outside perspective, it seems that most religious people have no faith whatsoever in God’s power.

For example, the Christian citizens upset about same-sex marriage. They insist that such a thing would anger and upset God. Yet, same-sex marriage is now common place. God, though ostensibly angered by this, did nothing and has done nothing. Why not? At the very least, He only had to convince only one more Supreme Court justice. Being all powerful, God could have forcibly changed the judge’s mind, or, respecting free-will, could have inspired the anti-marriage lawyers to say just the right thing to change that judge’s mind, or, more theatrically, He could have appeared in the clouds over The Supreme Court saying, “I am Yahweh of The Bible. Hear my words! Read Deuteronomy again! Did I stutter? No legalized marital buggery!”

But He didn’t. If He does exist, and if He does hate same-sex relations, He stood idly by and let a few believers wave signs and holler what they believe to be His wishes.

There are more personal examples; my daughter and I. My wife and I have chosen to raise her in a secular home. As one of God’s beloved children, this must be very troubling to Him. Why would He allow me to teach her about The Big Bang and Evolution? Why wouldn’t He lead me to a convincing apologetic book? Or inspire me to think of something that would lead me back to whatever the right path is? If not for my sake, then for my daughter’s? Instead, He, apparently, leads me to things like http://www.fairmormon.org or http://www.discovery.org/ – ludicrous, flimsy, implausible and dubious explanations of life’s more difficult questions.

I guess I have to assume that, since God has a plan and hasn’t punished me with boils, or whale consumption, or temporary blindness, or a sodium-chloride spouse, my apostasy and blasphemy is all part of that Divine Plan. As is me writing this, you reading it, you considering it, and, possibly, you refuting it in a way that will finally convince me that He’s certainly there and that science and evidence and rational critical thinking are all pointless in the face of pure faith.

As George Carlin so brilliantly put it (cleaned up to avoid over offending):

I’ve often thought people treat God rather rudely, don’t you? Asking trillions and trillions of prayers every day. Asking and pleading and begging for favors. “Do this”, “gimme that”, “I need a new car”, “I want a better job.”

And I say, fine. Pray for anything you want. Pray for anything, but what about The Divine Plan? Remember that? The Divine Plan? Long time ago, God made a Divine Plan. Gave it a lot of thought. Decided it was a good plan. Put it into practice. And for billions and billions of years, The Divine Plan has been doing just fine. Now, you come along, and pray for something. Well suppose the thing you want isn’t in God’s Divine Plan? What do you want Him to do? Change His plan? Just for you? Doesn’t it seem a little arrogant? It’s a Divine Plan. What’s the use of being God if every run-down shmuck with a two-dollar prayerbook can come along and mess up Your Plan?

And here’s something else, another problem you might have: Suppose your prayers aren’t answered. What do you say? “Well, it’s God’s will.” “Thy Will Be Done.” Fine, but if it’s God’s will, and He’s going to do what He wants to anyway, why bother praying in the first place? Seems like a big waste of time to me! Couldn’t you just skip the praying part and go right to His Will? It’s all very confusing.

A Place For Your Stuff

I have been gone from The Haversham Church for a long time now, but I am sure there are some people – my family, friends of my family, old Friday School teachers and leaders – who harbor some hope that I will some day choose to return to the flock. That may happen. I can’t rule it out, but if I were to come back, with all of the knowledge I have gained through my years in the godless wilderness, my personal gospel testimony would probably sound a little different than it did when I was 14.

*Note: Every single link in the following is to an Haversham Church-friendly website.

“I want to bear my testimony that I know The Church is true. I know that The Book of Haversham is the word of God as restored by Hank Smythe. I know that Hank Smythe was a prophet of God, and that, when he was 16 or 14, years-old he was visited by God, and/or an angel, and/or The Savior, Jessub Chambs. I know The Holy Spirit led Hank Smythe to a deep well where a sacred branch was hidden, which Hank was able to use for water dowsing and translation. And that several years later The Prophet Hank Smythe was visited by The Angel George, who showed Hank the location of The Diamond Plates, which were miraculously buried and undisturbed in a nearby hill.

I have prayed and studied and felt the presence of The Holy Spirit when reading how Hank Smythe didn’t even need or use The Diamond Plates in order to read the translated sacred words written in spiritual light on the sacred branch placed into his pillowcase. And though there is virtually no archaeological, genetic, or scientific evidence that it is a historical document, and even though it has been changed by The Acolytes many times, I testify to you, my brothers and sisters, that The Book of Haversham is the most perfect book on Earth.

I have a testimony that Hank Smythe similarly inspired by the seemingly common Summerian birthing text to receive and translate the gospel written in The Book of Moses, and that by following the words within its pages, we can all, some day, hie to Seti Alpha VI and meet with God.

I know that polyfidelity, as revealed and practiced by Hank Smythe, was a righteous principle, anointed by Our God. And though, for secular reasons, the mortal practice was deemed unsanitary and illegal, I know that spiritual polyfidelity is still the law in The Kingdom of Opulence. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Hank Smythe was commanded by The Holy Spirit to marry Sibling Victor Baer, his wife, Sibling Rebecca Bast, their neighbor Sibling Hilton Alsop, and his second-cousin, Sibling Edward Birimsa, and his wife, Sibling Sasha Akers. And though Acolyte Smythe was commanded by The Angel George to keep this a secret from his legal wife, Sibling Anna Hayle, it is a righteous principle, and will one day be restored.

I have faith that all of The Acolytes from Hank Smythe to Jacob W. Araki, are God’s representatives here on the Earth, and that they speak to and for Our God and Savior, and reveal the truths of the restored Haversham Gospel.

And though Kenneth Applebaum, Hank Smythe III, Linas J. Bodkin, Perry R. Buell, Witter P. Judith, Clegg W. Conrad, Kittredge T. Campion, and countless other Acolytes are imperfect men, who occasionally lead The Haversham Church astray by exhibiting the anti-Irish mistakes of their times, and make other mistaken revealed predictions, there is no doubt in my mind that Jacob W. Araki and his Thurifers clearly speak for God when they tell us that marriage is between a single man and single woman, and his many concubines, and it will always be that way.

And, finally, the latest words from Our Great Acolyte: