We Heal In Community

"Rarely, if ever, are any of us healed in isolation. Healing is an act of communion." bell hooks

As an ex-Mormon, my understanding of community is a bit skewed. In the church, I was surrounded by people, fellow believers who affirmed and sustained my devotion to the organization. Because we had the same objectives, we shared time and talents to create what we thought was community. After leaving the church, I lost the majority of my friends. Speaking out about the damage the church did to me for decades has further distanced me from those former friends. What I didn’t understand until then, was that our associations were situational and our connections were baren. We engaged in assigned parallel play and we were told that was community. It is not.

I found my new crew of cronies on social media. I was geographically separated from them by thousands of miles, so Exmo TikTok became my lifeline and my soft place to land while I processed the deconstruction of my faith and my life. I’m grateful for the support they offered and for the virtual shoulders they provided to dry my tears and help bear my burdens.

In the Book of Mormon there is a story I’ve always found comforting and encouraging. Mosiah 18: 8-11 describes a beautiful community-based faith system that Alma invites the gathering of people to consider before entering the waters of baptism. This is part of his sermon:

“As ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort…Now I say unto you, if this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized…? And now when the people had heard these words, they clapped their hands for joy, and exclaimed: This is the desire of our hearts.” (emphasis added)

This is the community we thought we were building, but once we questioned the policies, doctrines, leadership, and cultural practices of the organization, we were met with rebuke for our lack of faithfulness. We were cast out once we pointed out, in our childlike innocence and our quest for truth and understanding, that our studies revealed discrepancies that couldn’t be explained away. We dared to say “the emperor has no clothes” and by doing so, we were branded as heretics and traitors to the Faith.

Most of us left quietly, trying not to make waves which might disturb others. We retreated to our quiet corners to contemplate and reevaluate. Most of us weren’t aware there were others like us, and so we suffered alone, shuffling in the dark for meaning and understanding. The sudden absence of busywork and proscribed structure left us in a spiritual lurch which may have surprised and overwhelmed us. We were stripped of our eternal purposes and didn’t know where to look for community now that we had left the most significant community of our lives.

Finding the ex-Mormons online felt like a forbidden, self-indulgent treasure. I was disturbed and intrigued that these folx spoke openly about their struggles of rebuilding their lives after leaving such a high-demand religion. I remember thinking, “Wait. I’m allowed to say these things? I thought the church didn’t want me to speak openly about my experiences.”

That’s when it clicked for me. Of course, the church didn’t want me to speak openly about the trauma I endured there for decades. No one would ever hand me a microphone and tell me it was my turn to speak Truth to Power. Part of my healing journey would be to open my mouth and share my story of oppression and restriction, all done under the guise of saving my soul.

My TikTok community of former faithful, believing, covenant-keeping spiritual siblings invited me to sit at their table and eat from their bowls. They were willing to help bear my burdens. They were supportive enough to mourn with me as I mourned, and compassionate enough to comfort me when I stood in need of comfort. This was the community we thought we were building in the church. It is disturbing to discover we were, instead, building an investment empire for a multi-billion dollar business, cloaked in the wolves’ disguise of piety and promised eternal blessings. We were duped, bamboozled, scammed, and we had nothing to show for our years of devoted service.

What a delight to discover that what we had learned about leadership, scholarship, service, and community organizing in the church, was transferable! We had valuable skills for creating a world and a community of belonging, inclusion, genuine support, and sincere friendships based on who were rather than what we did. We were worthy. We were complete. We were loved, not despite who we were, but because of who we were. This is the community we thought we were building all long.

So I say Welcome Home, fellow outcasts. Welcome to your healing journey. Welcome Home to yourself!

Chris

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