Personal stories on dealing with the doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and how it can be imperfectly reflected in the culture.
Tim Frodsham. 31 January 2021
As a young boy, I did not understand the difference between doctrine and culture. Doctrine is what we hold as the foundation of Christ’s church on the earth. Culture is how we view and interpret that doctrine, which can color it. I vividly remember several Sacrament meeting talks from my youth which emphasize the differences.
Tithing
The first was about tithing. We had a high council member visit, and he went into detail about tithing as a ten percent contribution of our increase. He went on to stress that this was exactly ten percent. If we paid one penny less than ten percent, it was not a tithe, and we would be condemned. If we paid one penny more than ten percent, this was not a tithe either. This, of course, sounds ridiculous to me now, but to my nine-year-old, mid-twentieth century, trusting-but-taking-things-literally brain, this was serious business. Questions started rolling through my head.
- What if I make a mistake in my calculations?
- What if my calculations do not come out exactly to the penny?
- Do I round up or down?
- How angry will the Lord be if I pay too much?
- What if I don’t calculate the worth of garden produce or other non-monetary increase to the satisfaction of the Lord?
I was confused by the supposed letter of the law, as taught in that Sacrament meeting. My attempts to understand the why of this level of detail in the law of tithing went nowhere.
Judgment Day
The second address I remember, again from another high councilman, described Judgment Day. He stressed Judgment Day as a time when we would be held accountable for every second of every day of our mortal existence. As he droned on and on, my youthful brain again kicked into overdrive.
What about fatigue?
Are we not allowed to be tired?
Will we be condemned if we ever take a nap?
In this address, there was no room for repentance, there was no room for mistakes. There was no mention of mercy. We could only stand helplessly by as the negative marks piled high on our scoreboard. There were no positives here.
Suicide
The third talk was not from a high councilman. Thank goodness, because I was beginning to fear these men. This time, it was a lesson in Sunday School. The subject was suicide. Our teacher stressed again and again that suicide was akin to murder, for which there was no repentance. Those who committed suicide were eternally lost. Again, my young brain spun helplessly out of control.
What was the difference in the Lord’s eyes between those who committed suicide and succeeded, versus those who attempted the very same acts but were not successful?
Would the Lord condemn a person for the loss of that extra ounce of blood?
What about those who attempted suicide, failed in the act, and later turn their lives around?
Did that matter?
Were they under complete condemnation because they attempted the act?
A Culture Without Redemption
My tender heart cried out for the families of those who had successfully committed suicide, especially a family I knew personally. They had lost that child, father, mother, brother, or sister eternally. There was no hope for redemption, no hope for a reunion. I could not wrap my mind and heart around a God who would be so callous and unbending.
After these and other Sunday sermons, I simply filed these thoughts away as areas of the gospel of Jesus Christ that I could not understand and resigned myself to the fact that there was no redemption for me.
I had a firm testimony of Jesus Christ as our Savior and King. I felt it important to follow His commandments to love everyone around me, regardless of whether they were church members and regardless of the mistakes they had made. I followed, to the best of my ability, the precepts of charity, forgiveness, and unconditional love. But I was imperfect, and in God’s kingdom, there was no room for imperfection.
The Epiphany
The Epiphany came later. These teachings from my youth were not doctrine. They were the precepts of men—good men, I must add—but nonetheless nothing more than products of the strict, unyielding religious culture of my youth. The Savior, in his infinite understanding, wisdom, and forgiveness, saw tithing, suicide, and redemption in a completely different light.
This understanding was pressed home much later in life. I had recently lost my wife to a five-year fight with cancer and was negotiating other problems in work and family. On a particularly dark day, a question slowly surfaced in my mind.
Is this the point at which people consider suicide? Is it this darkness, this hopelessness, this complete loss of control, that drives people to take their life?
There so much to live for, even in life’s darkest moments.
Life, even in its darkest moments, is so very worth living. It is so beautiful, so enriching, an ephemeral moment in our eternal existence. It is our only chance in all of eternity to experience pain. I could not understand, even at this moment, why people would consider that as an option. However, I have not experienced the mental illness aspect of suicide that we understand much better today.
I have not experienced the mis-wiring and malfunction of the brain that plague those with mental illnesses, but on that dark night, I empathized with their plight. For a brief moment, I felt that pain and saw a glimmer of how the Lord sees and loves us.
We have heard many times that, in very difficult situations, praying and reading the scriptures is just not enough. I agree that it might not be enough, but it is an extremely powerful start. It is the formulation of a strong and sure foundation. Yes, after the prayer and scriptures, we now need to reach out, stretch out, and do our part. It is so much easier and so much more effective to do so with the Spirit, power, and revelation, garnered through the Scriptures and through prayer.
I have always struggled to understand how not being tempted beyond what we are able to endure applies to mental and physical ailments, and their accompanying behaviors. The answer is much more complicated and at the same time extremely simple. In these cases, it is not a question of temptation, but a question of illness. Part of the commandment to not judge others is the reality of our finite, mortal viewpoint. We simply do not have the wisdom or information to differentiate between the two.
We can no more condemn those who succumbed to suicide due to the side effects of depression and anxiety, then we can condemn the child who cannot run because of a broken leg. The Savior loves us. He sees us through an infinite lens of love and compassion. He never throws anything in front of us that is not in His plan for our perfection and redemption.
The growth and refinement of the church culture.
I love The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, even more for all of its imperfections and the imperfections of the people who serve and worship beside me. I am filled with joy at the progress we have made as a church culture. We are growing from the unyielding, Puritan mentality of my youth, to a church of grace, forgiveness, and love.
In all facets of the Church, and through all the generations of members that seek the Lord, no matter our imperfections, collectively or individually, the Gospel of Jesus Christ shines through. Through my numerous imperfections, and the imperfections of His Church, I have come to understand His patience and long-suffering. The culture surrounding His Church may be flawed, but as we seek to understand and follow Him, the culture will reflect more and more our belief and trust in Him and the purity of his doctrine.
Copyright Tim Frodsham, 2021, latterdaysaints.life
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