Excommunication: Is it such a bad thing?

While my mother was watching "The Mormons," a woman was being interviewed about her excommunication. The documentary discussed, at length, excommunication, or the practice of removing an individual from membership. The slant in the documentary at this part is that excommunication is a horrid practice that splits families into fractures and that the LDS Church is awful for such a practice. This woman, Margaret Toscano, told the story of the Church Disciplinary Council that was held for her. After being told she was excommunicated, she related how the stake presidency and high priests offered to shake her hand: to quote directly, with niceness referring to the handshakes, she said, "the niceness covered over the violence of what was being done, because, in fact, excommunication is a violent action."

I watched momentarily as she spoke, and as my mother seemed relatively captured by the woman's words, I spoke up, saying, "If that's what she has to say about excommunication, she has no idea of it's purpose." My statement is truth. Fact.

The purpose of excommunication has nothing to do with shaming an individual, despite the fact that I guarantee more than one individual would argue this point with me. Just because you think it's about shaming, someone for doing something against the Church's doctrines, doesn't make it so. As much as I may want to float up to the stars, believing I'll suddenly be able to doesn't bring me any closer to those stars. For those who view it as shameful don't understand it's purpose.

It is viewed, undeniably, as a punishment for not keeping the commandments; no, for breaking the commandments to such an extent that simple repentance can't answer the ends of the law. When we break a law, there is a due that must be paid: justice demands it. However, I will argue with any who contend with me, that it's both a punishment and a blessing. And you'll see how and why by the end of this post.

When Jesus Christ was ministering to the peoples on the American continent after he showed himself to his disciples in Jerusalem and then ascended into heaven, he taught the doctrine of the sacrament. After administering the sacrament to the people, he turned to the disciples he had chosen there, and said this: "And now behold, this is the commandment which I give unto you, that ye shall not suffer any one knowingly to partake of my flesh and blood unworthily, when ye shall minister it; For whoso eateth and drinketh my flesh and blood unworthily eateth and drinketh damnation to his soul; therefore if ye know that a man is unworthy to eat and drink of my flesh and blood ye shall forbid him." Whoa! That's some harsh doctrine, no? We can get into semantics about what it means to be unworthy, but I'll just point out one of the footnotes on "unworthily," and that says, "Go thy way unto thy brother, and first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come unto me with full purpose of heart, and I will receive you."

OK, so if we're unworthy, we don't want to be taking the sacrament, 'cause that's where the whole "eateth and drinketh damnation to [our souls]" comes in, and that just isn't something we want to be doing. So the Lord explained that "Nevertheless, ye shall not cast him out from among you, but ye shall minister unto him and shall pray for him unto the Father, in my name; and if it so be that he repenteth and is baptized in my name, then shall ye receive him, and shall minister unto him of my flesh and blood." All right then, to be able to partake of the sacrament and not damn our souls, we need to repent, because that's the only way we can return to our Heavenly Father (to clarify for any Episcopalians who may be reading and think that last statement was blasphemous, I'll reword it: "we need to repent, utilizing the great Atonement performed by Jesus Christ, because that's the only way we can return to our Heavenly Father.")

On that note, have you ever noticed how often Heavenly Father is recorded as speaking to man? Not very often at all. Given this scarcity, one can assume that whenever God does speak, it's important and we 'ought to be listening, we 'ought to be doing what He tells us. In a vision, received by a prophet in the Book of Mormon, we're told that "...the Father said: Repent ye, repent ye, and be baptized in the name of my Beloved Son." So it's important we do whatever it is God tells us. Now, how important would something be if He repeats it? He said, "Repent ye, repent ye," think about that.

All right, let's say we're unworthy to take the sacrament, and we've decided for whatever reason, not to repent. What do the scriptures say about that? Well, Jesus Christ continued, saying, "But if he repent not he shall not be numbered among my people, that he may not destroy my people, for behold I know my sheep, and they are numbered." What does it mean to not be numbered among the people of Christ? The aforementioned scripture completely explains it. Christ said, "I know my sheep, and they are numbered," and therefore, those who are not Christ's are not numbered, and those who reject Christ after knowing him "shall not be numbered."

In an article by M. Russell Ballard, we're told in the first few lines that "When members need to have certain blessings withheld, the Lord’s object is to teach as well as to discipline. So probation, disfellowshipment, and excommunication, when they become necessary, are ideally accompanied by eventual reinstatement and restoration of blessings" (italics added). Justice demands the dues be paid, but if we repent and turn back to Christ, he will pay those dues for us: he's promised he will, and he's bound by those promises. Elder Ballard speaks of excommunication (probation, and disfellowship) as a way to start over, indeed, the main part of the title of his article is "A Chance to Start Over," and so to again quote Elder Ballard, "[The Lord] is pleased to extend the chance [to us] to start over."

Excommunication is a form of protection. If I break one of God's laws after having made the most sacred of covenants with Him that I wouldn't, I come under grievous condemnation. If I continue on with breaking those laws and don't repent, I have guaranteed my condemnation. However, if I'm called to sit before a Church Disciplinary Council, I should have much gratitude for those men! Let's say they excommunicate me - what does that mean? It means the consequences for the laws I break after excommunication will not be as severe as they would be had I remained a member of the Church. That's what it means, period, despite any emotions I may have at losing my membership because of poor decisions I made, and sins I committed.

In a Q&A in a Church distributed magazine for youth called the New Era, Elder Robert L. Simpson answered the question: "What are the reasons for and the process of excommunication?" In this article, he states, "It is usually those who are so far removed from the spirit of truth as to be imperceptive to the love of Christ and the need for proper priesthood reprimand who leave the Church court with belligerence and ill feeling toward their priesthood leaders. These people are seldom sorry for what they have done but only sorry they have been caught."

To relate this back to Ms Margaret Toscano, interviewed for The Mormons, I believe this statement applies, unquestionably to her. She questioned the divine nature of the church with regard to the First Vision of the Prophet Joseph Smith, contended that women should hold the Priesthood and that it was something Joseph Smith actually taught, and also that he even bestowed the Priesthood upon women during temple ordinances. She also taught about Heavenly Father and the concept of a Heavenly Mother, which isn't alien to most members of the church (see Hymn 292, verse 3); the only twist she added was that Heavenly Father was both man and woman, the Father and the Mother in one. She believed in the false doctrine she was spreading, and as the Saviour himself stated, "...if [s]he repent not [s]he shall not be numbered among my people, that [s]he may not destroy my people..." Although this statement is harsh, such is the nature of truth. And why do I feel it's acceptable for me to analyze her this way? Because she's the perfect example, she spreads false doctrine that could unhinge the faithful, and she went on national television and spoke against the truth.

Excommunication is a saving grace. It is not meant to split up families, although families may choose to distance themselves from those who have been excommunicated - this is their right, just as it's their right to disagree with the beliefs or actions of one of their family members. I understand the distancing of oneself from a family member who has been excommunicated and refuses to repent and work towards having their ordinances, sealing, or priesthood restored to them. It is a practice that places a greater distance between God and the excommunicated, for the protection of the sinner. There can, and should be a happy ending for excommunicated members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

The Transition: Man of God to Fraud

Although the title makes it sound like I've lost my marbles and gone apostate, I've not, rather I thought I'd publish something that's been weighing on my mind for the last little while.

There's a person in my life who is very dear to me. Not unusual. This person had an experience with their Priesthood leaders, and instead of viewing that experience as one from which they could grow and improve, they have turned it into a catalyst from which bitterness, anger and self-pity have festered. I won't identify this person in any way more than I already have.

Often in someone's life when they experience something that draws them into some form of depression, their progression stops. What tends to happen is they end up holing away, shying away from situations where they have be social. This isn't uncommon for people, even those who don't experience clinical depression, who just have a bad day. Some people seek out others who are equally miserable, and others simply become a recluse.

While I'm on the point, not only do miserable people group together to bolster the reasons for which they're upset, but people who share a common belief or hobby do the same thing. A simple example of this is a club. We do this for the same reason above, to bolster each other, and encourage one another. If you're doing something that is "wrong," on the basic, non-religious levels, you'll tend to spend your time with others who are doing that same thing. Why? It's much easier to justify your wrong behaviour if you're around others who are also looking to justify themselves.

I'm going to use an example to illustrate the point of this post. Often in the Church, when someone finds fault with their leaders, it's because the leader has asked the member to do something they don't want to do, or because the leader told the member something they didn't want to hear. People don't like being wrong - that's a basic fact of humanity. When a member receives chastisement, they can take it one of two ways: they can either listen to the advice they're given and humbly submit to the will of the Lord as revealed through that leader, or they can convince themselves that the leader is wrong, that they don't need to listen to their advice, that they're flawed, that for some reason that leader got it wrong.

Which is easier? To change, or to manufacture some excuse that saves you from having to change? Personally, I try to embrace change. As a writer I have the opportunity to create any kind of characters I want. Certain characters are frowned upon, and these are known as static characters. These characters are the ones that never change, there is no character arc for them, they are the same on the last page of the book as they are on the first. To live such a life, I couldn't imagine.

But anyway, tangent aside, let's get some illustration in here. This will be specific and vague all at once, you'll see (and be impressed).

A member goes to their Priesthood leader and tells that leader of the problems they're having. They tell their leader (Bishop, Stake President, etc.) of their abilities and their weaknesses, and then asks for advice, they ask for counsel and direction. The leader thinks about it a moment, and then tells the member that they're loved and appreciated, that they're doing well enough in all areas of their life but one. This one area is known to the member as one of their major weaknesses, and is therefore a sensitive topic, but because the member asked, the leader directs them and tells them that to better serve the Lord (in this example), they need to improve their life in that area. Once the member has improved themselves to a certain point, they're to return to the leader and receive more council.

Now, like I said, this member can either humbly submit themselves to the counsel that was given, or they can come up with some reason to excuse themselves from having to listen to the direction they were given. Let's say that this member chooses the latter. They decide that their leader hasn't got the right to say what they did about their very personal weakness.

This is where I draw my illustration into the story of that very dear person I know. At the beginning of the story I just went through, the member went to their leader. The Bishop or Stake President didn't show up at the member's house and start chastising them, the member went to the leader. By doing so, and by asking for direction, they showed a confidence in that leader's abilities, they demonstrated a trust in that leader, a trust that he was a man of God.

So here's my quandary: At what point did that man cease to be a man of God?

A member goes to their leader, showing humility and a desire to listen to the counsel they would receive (why else would they bother asking?), but after their meeting, it's been decided by that member that the man they went to advice for is no longer called of God. So at what point did this leader who had formerly been considered a man of God cease being so? It never actually happened, save in the mind of the member, and it occurred when that member decided they knew more than him.

Although I love this individual with all my heart, I cannot understand why they would be, at one moment, completely willing to listen and to follow whatever Church leaders told them, whether is was to give a talk, receive a calling in Primary, or to serve a foreign-speaking mission to Japan for 1.5-2 years; and later have decided that those same leaders they trusted, literally with their life, were wrong.

I don't understand it, but I know the underlying answer to my "why" questions. Pride. This individual couldn't stand having someone tell them they couldn't do something because they wouldn't be able to handle it. It boggles my mind. If a prophet of God, or someone I revered as a man of God as called by the prophet, told me I needed to do X in order to be able to do Y, I would do it. Why? Personally, because I've learned through hard experiences that my leaders tend to have the gift of foresight; when I think I see the big picture, I'm often seeing it head-on and not from their perspective, which is often a birds-eye view.

So, has that leader really gone from being a man of God to being a fraud? Only in the mind of that one individual. And what will that individual do? They'll flock to others who think the exact same so they can pat themselves on the shoulder and tell each other how justified they are in condemning that leader. Truly, a separation of the wheat from the chaff.

"They were once a delightsome people, and they had Christ for their shepherd; yea, they were led even by God the Father... But now, behold, they are led about by Satan, even as chaff is driven before the wind, or as a vessel is tossed about upon the waves, without sail or anchor, or without anything wherewith to steer her; and even as she is, so are they." Mormon 5:16,18