Lem wrote: ↑Sat Nov 28, 2020 12:38 am
I'm grateful I left the LDS church before my guilt drove me to the bishops office to confess I touched my own breasts while putting on a bra my Sophomore year at BYU.
Wow, this took my down a rabbit hole.
I've been thinking a lot lately about power and how we all bestow it on others. There's a little parable in the second Game of Thrones book from Vary:
In a room sit three great men, a king, a priest, and a rich man with his gold. Between them stands a sellsword, a little man of common birth and no great mind. Each of the great ones bids him slay the other two. ‘Do it,’ says the king, ‘for I am your lawful ruler.’ ‘Do it,’ says the priest, ‘for I command you in the name of the gods.’ ‘Do it,’ says the rich man, ‘and all this gold shall be yours.’ So tell me – who lives and who dies?
The point of this is that the answer depends on who the sellsword believes is the most powerful. In a sense, the sellsword is the one with the most power here, because he's the one to grant it.
I've reflected many times on how the church lost all it's power with me as soon as I decided it was all BS. All the guilt, the burden, the constant consideration of their concerns... all gone in the flash of a decision. I'm amused to think back that it ever held power over me in the first place, but really, it was deference to my father. He gave the church his power over me, while he transferred his own power to the church.
I remember about 20 years or so after I left, some missionaries came to my house, accompanied by some middle-aged dude (not sure why he was there - maybe in case things got rough with the rowdy exmo?) My father must have given them my address because they knew I was an ex-member (or "inactive" in mo-speak - also amusing). They asked me if I'd like to join them that Sunday and return to church. I couldn't help it - I burst out laughing. I remember both of the young missionaries had visibly hurt expressions on their faces, but the middle-aged dude's look was more knowing. I had an idea he knew exactly where I was coming from, and knew this task they were on was a lost cause.
That whole experience would have looked very different if I were in a different headspace, where I actually gave the church some kind of authority. I don't, and so everything they do seems like a joke to me.
So yeah, Lemmie, I once confessed to the bishop that I masturbated. Today, I'd be reminiscing fondly about it if they wanted to listen.