STEPHEN KAMMERMAN'S PERSONAL STORY |
NAME: Stephen Kammerman STORY: My story, abbreviated December 28, 2008 "I'll find him, don't worry." These were my parting words to my best friend as I left him to be alone just one week after his wife left him out of the clear blue. He dropped me off at my aunt’s house. After saying hello to my aunt and cousins I locked myself in the basement and knew I would not come up until I found what I was looking for---the Truth and the One that bore that Truth. It was time. Enough was enough. I thought I wanted to know before, but this past desire paled in comparison to what I felt at that moment--- the burning of total insanity within my mind and soul caused by walking in total darkness my whole life. I was either going to be led to "the things that have been kept from the foundation of the world" or...I was going to be led to "the things that have been kept from the foundation of the world." I was resolved. So after 6 days of searching endlessly and reading aimlessly...I gave up. It was 2 in the morning and I just sat at the computer with a blank stare. For one tiny second...ok...lotsa seconds, I now determined that I would NEVER search for truth again. Why was is so damn difficult and so elusive to those who truly wanted to know for no ulterior motive other than to know who they truly are. I "hibernated" the computer and walked down the darkened hall that reminded me of my "spiritual" state. I entered the bedroom with a hopelessness and a depression I've never had, a new resolve that I'm not searching anymore, and a self esteem that seemed to suck the life of what I had left in me. As I laid on my back I just stared at the ceiling being faintly lighted from the porch lamp outside the window. The last time I was "on my knees" praying was in July of 2008 in the basement of my friends house. It was then I collapsed on the bed and then onto the floor finally voicing out loud to my "god" that I knew that "the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is NOT YOUR CHURCH." I poured my heart out and pleaded for hours to be shown the way, the truth, and the light. However, that "prayer" was for the sole purpose of "letting it all out" in audible voice for the first time to my Father. Though I'd have conversation and pointless banter with Him in my head all the time----this now had to be aloud. And afterward I could have sworn that I felt weightless. I could feel no burden, no guilt...only peace, joy, and happiness. But now 6 months after that, laying on my back, my heart was now kneeling as never before and with my jaw locked and my teeth clinched I begged and begged without audible voice: "I gotta know, I gotta know, I just gotta know...I can't go on no more, I gotta know." I wasn't "crying" but my eyes were like faucets. I kept pleading with clinched teeth--- "I got to know, I can't go on any longer, I gotta know." As my eyes began to drip dry from my uncontrollable sobless cry, the thought "patriarchal grip" came to mind. I then thought I just needed to find the meaning to the symbolism to the patriarchal grip...I find the answer to that (which up to that point I had obviously found no plausible or reasonable answer) then I find the One. It was like a eureka affect, like if I lost my wallet up the canyon and searched for it for hours, didn't find it, then got in the car and drove away, then 5 minutes later I instantly remembered where I lost it and was totally relieved because I knew exactly where it was and that I was actually GOING TO FIND IT. The deep despair I had entering that bedroom was diametrically opposed to the hope and absolute certainty I now had while leaving that bedroom again---I was like a kid that knew he was going to get to ride on the roller coaster for "grownups" for the first time; I quickly walked out to the computer and searched "patriarchal grip." It probably wasn't more than 20 or so minutes that I came to a blog site that read: Now at this particular time, I was so frustrated and discouraged at everything having to do with the temple-- I wanted nothing to do with it; but there was always that voice inside that continually told me that "the endowment is real and Joseph did restore it" even though there are other institutions and religions that have similar rites, which, in reality, proves the veracity of it. I clicked on the link to the Sacred Not Secret book and reluctantly read part of the introduction to Sacred Not Secret but the vibe was just not coming for me (because my heart was hardened toward the endowment because of not being able to understand it through the precepts of men that I've been drowning in). I then noticed that the root web address was "THESEALEDPORTION.COM" and I quickly typed in the root address and it obviously opened to the home page of The Sealed Portion ----- I was dumbfounded. I instantly knew what I came upon and was overcome "by the spirit." I began to read the statement concerning the sealed portion on the home page. I also recognized the fact that I was on this very site about 10 months prior but totally spaced to go back to it because "I need tons of time to research this site," and with life getting in the way, I forgot that I even crossed the site; I also thought at that time that The Sealed Portion book was a book about The Sealed Portion and not the actual Sealed Portion itself; I also remember thinking that "this is so simple and perfect, how can it be?" For all the books, ya, BOOKS were "too good to be true"---it was ALL THERE. (Hindsight: just wasn't sufficiently prepared at that time). So with a bitter sweetness (6% bitter, 94% sweetness :) I "flipped open" to the first page:
Already having been up about 20 hours or so, I read 24 hours straight, then I slept. Read another 18 hours, slept a little more; then another 12 or so until I finished. Prior to discovering The Sealed Portion, I could not love freely and completely all my brothers and sisters because of the limitations that were placed upon my love by the precepts of man that I disdainfully adhered to. Upon reading The Sealed Portion and discovering an acute amount of truth concerning the Love our Mutual Creators have for Their Children, FOR ME...just with that dinky amount that I "saw"---ALL HATRED, ALL JEALOUSLY, ALL JUDGMENT, ALL NEGATIVE EMOTIONS THAT CAUSED ME TO TREAT AND VIEW ALL MY SIBLINGS IN THIS WAY SEEMED TO VANISH INSTANTANEOUSLY. After reading The Sealed Portion I took a break for a couple days then started reading John's Revelation Unfolded. I also started reading Sacred Not Secret simultaneously with John's Revelation and finished both of them within a 2 or 3 weeks.
I began this mortal sojourn when I was... born in Northridge, California in 1980. Moved to Utah summer of 1991- the first "worst day of my life!" Youngest of seven children—I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters. Born and raised LDS. My brothers served missions. All siblings "sealed" in the temple to their spouses. Paternal grandparents were chronic genealogists which passed down to my father, uncle, and aunt. My parents never pushed or shoved when it came to anything other than curfew. I was not a "rebellious" child (other than getting in trouble with the girls once in awhile) yet still managed to be considered the black sheep. God forbid I didn't get my "eagle" in the scouting program like all my brothers did---saw no point. Never smoke nor drank or did any type of drugs (other than Pepsi); this was not so much as a religious reason but my a personal one, especially having peers being killed due to these things. I can count on one hand how many times I missed church prior to going on a mission. I Served, prepared, and blessed the sacrament. Always went to seminary and actually paid attention, one of the very few who did. Always gave talks at church that were more coherent and thought provoking than all the adults and returned missionaries. I did notice though early on (around the age of 14 or 15) that we (the members) rarely spoke of Christ. It was foreign to speak his name or even say just "jesus"...you could only say "Jesus Christ"--you also couldn't say "God" but only "Heavenly Father." I remember going to another church where it seemed natural for them to speak so openly about their Savior; why wasn't it like that with HIS church that I belonged to? Anyway, when I was 17 or so, before truly reading the scriptures for myself, I spoke at the prison a couple times for "church." In fact my dad and I was scheduled to be the only speakers for a "sacrament-less" meeting one time; of course my dad would be the 25 minute speaker and me the 10 minute speaker but it turned out the other way around. Between my dad and I speaking, an inmate sang a solo " a poor wayfaring man of grief"; one of the most powerful and humbling experiences I've had---an inmate with a below average voice crying to his Father in a most appropriate song. Reminded me of the time that Joseph Smith requested that song be sung by John Taylor a short while before Joseph and Hyrum being killed. Well, after the meeting an inmate gave me a note that stated:
If I recall accurately I believe I spoke on the gift of life and the worth of a soul---the inmates all truly seemed touched from whatever was said---not to be boastful, but when you're in that position to address them, you really want to be able to give them some hope or substance to grab onto, and somehow it seemed to work out that way. The second time speaking at the prison I had five minutes notice; our young men’s’/women’s’ group was in charge of the program and a returned missionary was with us who was supposed to speak---he was nervous and expressed that he didn't want to or feel like giving the talk--- "I'll do it" I said; he was relieved. Again, spoke on the worth of souls and the "love of God"--for what else matters. Same response from the inmates; I remember one of them named "Gino," some tattoo plastered black brother coming up to some puny skinny white boy that demanded that I come back---I said I would....but I never did nor ever have. I remember sitting in on Sunday "school" and one inmate asked about not having the "Holy Ghost" because he's excommunicated and he also asked about the difference between members who have the Holy Ghost versus those who were excommunicated members who do not. Sitting in prison with inmates in a Sunday school talking about spirit prison is very ironic, and little did I know about the real spirit prison I'd be in. Looking back on that day, I was well on my way to giving myself a life sentence of personal hell, all brought on by religion, even the very "church of Christ" that I belonged to and gave my life to. This prison was much more unbreakable than physical concrete walls that my fellow siblings find themselves in all across the world, and the sentence was for approximately 10 years from the last time I visited that prison in draper, Utah. I never doubted anything the church said. In fact, I never had a seed of doubt concerning the church....until I read the scriptures for myself! I was almost 18. I really had no choice, or rather was compelled to read because of the circumstance I was in. I read the Book of Mormon in a few days. Does anyone really have to "pray" to know that the book is what it claims to be? I never did, I "knew" it was true before I read it for myself and I "knew" it after---it's just that reading it changed my life! I then moved on to the doctrine and covenants. This is where it all began for me: section 84 verse 86, which says:
From this what?! Hour? Alright. I knew Jesus said this to his apostles of "old" and to his disciples in the "new world," but NOW. Is the Lord really saying this to those who spread his gospel in THIS generation, in this "dispensation of the fullness of time." ya. He really just said that. That scripture hit me so hard and left a distinct impression upon me but was soon dismissed, it's like some spiritual adrenalin (disbelief and fear) was immediately released to ease the pain (blind me from the truth). But I had to do something. I remember the very spot on the couch I was sitting on while pondering about this: "certainly the church and the leaders which I 'know' are prophets, know this scripture; but they obviously can't be wrong, I mean it's so obvious; well I guess that is why we have prophets in our day, so they would know the only way to go on a mission is to save up because there is no way anyone can go on a mission without money...IN OUR DAY!" The thing is, this statement had a very hesitant exclamation point attached to it, it was in question form which I had no choice but to convert it to a statement of truth. so I learned to do for the first time what I would do so many times from then on----I created a "disconnect." the conscious mind cannot handle contradiction in the slightest, hell, nor can the subconscious. I forced a puzzle piece into a perfect puzzle that was already complete. So with every time I read the scriptures I just would create more disconnects. It's like I can press an emergency button and immediately the tie to reason would be severed and a perfect (contrary to truth) explanation would pop in its place. However, all those disconnects were never disconnected from me, for years they lied dormant deep within my heart, being aware of some, not aware of others---till one day they all came creeping up from within me. This was now a big problem. Why? Because just a couple days prior to reading this scripture I finally realized and decided that I wanted to give this book of Mormon to the world (and D&C,etc). Up to that point, I told my parents about 1 ½ yrs prior that I was NOT GOING on a mission and told them not to tell anyone of my decision. Why the hell would I go on one ? I was with a girl that I thought I'd like to be with for a long time and as far as I was concerned I was going to make a living playing in the sand and on hardwood floor, while surfing the rest of my life. I remember around this time (when I told my parents I didn't want to go on a mission) that Elder Richard G Scott (Apostle from the LDS Mormon church) gave a fireside for our stake youth. The Sunday before he came all the youth who wanted to ask questions wrote them down on a piece of paper for Elder Scott to preview them and choose the ones he wanted to answer. My question was the "most serious and important" question for him to answer during that fireside. I asked something along the lines, "if you're with a girl you really like and she's not LDS and you want to probably get married, what do you do" or something like that (totally paraphrasing as I remember the 'question' was a very long paragraph---I also might have said something about not wanting to go on a mission, etc, because I was with a 'nonmember' girl). As brother Scott (who is a nuclear physicist) was about to answer my question (anonymously written) He said that "if the person who wrote this is here tonight, I want you to personally call my office and set up an appointment to come see me." so, instead of calling, I wrote a letter describing in detail what was going on in my life. A couple days later his secretary called and said he got my letter and that he wanted to meet with me. I set up an appointment and my mother took me to it. I got into his office and sat down. We talked about 15-20 minutes. I didn't talk too much at all about what was going on with me, he only really asked "what I wanted in life." He obviously asked me "do you want to be happy?" (No, I don't, I want to be miserable!). He asked what made my brothers and sisters happy? I answered. He then asked me what I wanted in life that would bring me happiness...I SAID I WANTED A FAMILY! Now whoever is reading this needs to understand something. There was only two things on my mind (and honestly till this day still is) : VOLLEYBALL AND THE GIRL I WAS GOING WITH AT THE TIME. There was no thought of the future with "family" in it (let alone the LDS VERSION THAT IS) being the source of my happiness! There was no thought of a mission and thinking that would bring me happiness! In fact it brought a depression to me to think of such a thing. So like a religious robot I gave him (elder Scott) the answer that he wanted and told him that "I just want to be happy and have a family like my brothers and sisters!" ...and the only way to get to that happiness is, if you're a male, to go on a mission first. yup. So he gave me a pad of paper and he had me write down 4 or 5 questions/statements/goals; one of which was "I will pray about a mission." Fast forward 3 or 4 yrs later at the MTC. Who happened to come speak while I was there? Brother Scott. After which I made my way down to the podium to say hello and give him a hug. I was "overwhelmed" by my emotions and started crying when I gave him a hug. I asked him if he remembered me, he said yes. I then told with a crying voice "you are the reason I'm here." BULL****. He wasn't the reason, I just said that to convince myself and others that "my situation" was different, I wasn't the run of the mill missionary, I actually had been converted and had some "special connection" to one of the "brethren"! Haha. Oh man. I told my two closest friends in the MTC about my meeting with him 3 yrs prior and that’s all. I actually tried to convince myself that Brother Scott was the reason I was there----but I knew he wasn't. It's just that you're taught to revere them as "prophets, seers, and revelators" and that if you 'touch' them or have a special connection to them then you are special...oh the element of missionary and member pride!. Later on I will relate the dream I had concerning elder Scott and the church. (I have also written a letter to Elder Scott, please see attached if interested) So anyway, as soon as I told my parents that I wasn't going on a mission and to not tell anyone in the family, it seemed as if my knees instantly worsened overnight. I thought I had bad knees before, but something changed. Anyway, I literally played until I collapsed, which after I did I kicked the volleyball, threw off my shoes, took off my braces and walked to the car knowing I'll never step foot on a court again--- the second "worst day of my life." So, what do you do when recovering from surgery----read. So read I did. Book of Mormon, check. Doctrine and covenants, check. New Testament, check. Why read the Old Testament, for my brother said it was stupid and pointless to read it and the Book of Mormon is the only book I should bother reading, and he served a mission, so why bother? (And he was also called to be a bishop at the age of 27---very impressive in the Church). Ya, go figure. Perhaps I should have bothered reading the Old Testament because it just happens to prophesy of all the false prophets in the LAST DAYS that claim they are sent from God but God sent them not--- "in the last days ye shall consider it perfectly...they are all dumb dogs..." Lord described them perfectly. So after high school I decided to attend the community college...photography sounds good. I also attended several "institute" classes. One teacher was very suave and convincing about everything he said. He gave an extremely powerful (heart fattening) presentation on the Atonement of Christ. He saves it for the end of the semester and he supposedly travels "all over the world" to give this presentation. It was moving, I must admit. Thought provoking...but again, as always, I felt guilty and too inadequate in measuring up to live a perfectly sinless life. I dropped out of school after the second semester because my knees---they just weren't getting better. Then time came to "put in my papers" (for a mission). I filled everything out and met the stake president for my interview. He said, "It says here that you have some knee problems." "yup," I said. "Are you still having problems with them?" "yup, a little." "Can you walk up and down stairs?" "No, not without breaking the railing." "Can you run without pain?" "Nope." "Can you walk without them hurting?" "No, not really." "And you want to go on a mission?" "yup!" "Nope, I don't think so!" "Hu?!!!" So, what do you do when recovery from surgery again---read. Not only read, but sign up for 4 more institute classes for another semester and a half. My dad's former mission companion taught institute at the LDS BUSINESS COLLEGE, so I took some classes from him and other instructors. In the meantime I worked at subway and honed my sandwich making skills---what a sandwich artist I was. Around this time I remember going to a tabernacle choir concert with my grandma. During the intermission she went up to talk to "Marge and Gordy" (President of the LDS Church and his wife) to tell them the progress of her new triplet grandsons. My grandpa and president Hinckley were blessed a newborn babes in the same ward and my grandma was really good friends with his wife Marge. My grandparents lived in the eagle gate first ward, where the presidents of the church always resided. My grandma called Gordon b Hinckley, Gordy! Haha. Anyway, she wanted me to come with her but I didn't...why...I had a beard. I didn't want to get chewed out by the "prophet" and his counselors (for they were all sitting together with their wives surrounded by bodyguards on both sides---and isn't also kinda oxymoronic that a "prophet" has counselors!?)...I felt embarrassed. I didn't dwell on it nor have I thought about it much till now, about how sad is it really, that they truly only do accept certain standards of look and dress and that only certain types of people could feel comfortable around them. Before and after my mission "my" bishops would say: "I feel really impressed by the spirit to tell you that you should cut your hear and shave." WTF!?!?! After the concerns I bring up to "my" bishops the only thing they have an impression from the "spirit" about is regarding the length of my hair and a fuzzy chin. Ironically, one of the scripture mastery scriptures we learn in high school seminary is 1 Samuel 16:7 "...for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." Shouldn't the "lords servants" too, not seeth as man, but as the Lord seeth!?!? I got cleared from therapy and the surgeon to finally go on a mission. I left for my mission about a year after I put in my papers the first time and was told that I wouldn't go on a mission unless I got surgery again. Entered the missionary training center (MTC) Feb. 16, 2000. The MTC experience was a decent experience for me. But how hypocritical is that place and the "missionaries" that infest it. From the "teachers" to the 'non leader' missionaries, so much pride, ego, animosity, quick to be offended and quick to offend, childish. At this time I began to realize how "alone" I really felt. That feeling of aloneness magnified a hundred fold when being out in the field in Toronto Canada. Though I was not an academic scripturian, I did not need to be one to witness the extreme lack of love missionaries had from one another and for the "people" they "serve." I had companions and "leaders" that told people they were stupid and would turn, walk away, and leave me at the door to offer an apology. They would belittle the people and their beliefs. I was so tired of apologizing, or feeling the need to but by "the look" I gave to those offended I would hope that they knew that there was something different about my attitude and demeanor and that I was offering my condolences for what just happened (having to do this once is one time too many). I was with the two missionaries who were the most read and academic of all the missionaries in that mission. We were street contacting and tracting. We met a teenage high school girl who was walking through the same walkway that we were walking on. We stopped her and said hello, and she was "interested" in talking, only because she wanted to tell us that her dad was a "minister' of a Christian church. The two missionaries that I was with asked for the address of where she lived. They wanted to immediately walk to the house of her father. So we did. So this minister/father came to the door, being taken away from his peaceful reading of the bible (yes, that's true) and I witnessed a literal attack from the sideline. I had to stand several feet away from my "fellow" missionaries to physically and psychologically separate myself from what they were doing. I stood in silence and said nothing. These missionaries barraged him, his beliefs, his lifestyle, his everything! I was flabbergasted. Then the minister turned to me and said something like "you don't have much to say, they are training you to do what they're doing." I said nothing. This man never pushed or shoved, all he did was state that he believed what he believed! He spoke calmly and with love and patience, but his face showed his absolute confusion as to why these two missionaries specifically came to his door to mount an attack. This is one of many examples. Another time a "Seventy" came to address the mission. He gave a talk about not "delving into the mysteries and deep doctrine." he drew a picture on a white-board as if it was representing the earth's crust, mantle, and core. He then pointed to the outside layer and said: "there are things you should know"; then he pointed to the middle layer and said: "there are things that are nice to know and that you're able to find out"; and then pointing to the center of the drawing said: "and there are things you CAN'T KNOW NOR SHOULD YOU TRY TO KNOW." I’m sure I wasn't the only awe-struck missionary there..."and by the power of the Holy Ghost ye shall know the truth of all things." My own "studies" showed quit obvious that unless you know ALL things then you're walking in darkness. Also, in the mission my companions and I would get reprimanded for having "too many service hours" and not teaching discussion "in order." The "white bible" (missionary handbook) was a perfect way on how not to live the gospel but a perfect way to serve a mission for the church. Well, and it came to pass that the mission ended. I did not want to come home. I could've gone my whole life being a missionary and in fact it was my deepest desire. But I despised the suit, the tie, the "setting yourself apart from the world." I despised the "tangents" that couldn't be solved or answered, the contradictions---everything that was not the Gospel. I couldn't stand the organized way the church wanted the "gospel" to be preached--- so sanitized and aesthetic, and so false. What happened to "take no thought"? I flew from Toronto into Salt Lake City on my mom's birthday January 10, 2002 and one hour before I landed my grandpa passed away. Bitter homecoming and I was exhausted. Prior to my going on my mission I would look at returned missionaries that "fell away" as "they're weak in the gospel, they just don't understand it, or they just want to sin and they can't justify it." I remember listening to Truman Madsen (LDS philosopher and author) and he quoted one of his philosophical colleagues as saying:
Sadly, I adopted that philosophy, even when I stopped going to church for a season I would think that about myself as well---I'm just a big sinner, I'm not good enough for THE CHURCH, but somehow always "good enough for God." After my mission, even when I wasn't "paying my penance" for my "forbidden indiscretions" with girls, I still would not go to the temple or partake of the sacrament. I could not do these things if I had ANY ill thoughts or anger toward anyone. "You must have a love of god and OF ALL MEN," I would continually think. And because I didn't have a love for my fellow men who I thought were enemies to everyone's salvation, especially those that were bishops, stake presidents, BYU professors, and those revered as "prophets, seer, and revelators," --- how could I eat the Lord's "body" and drink his "blood" or supposedly more important-- step foot into "his house." I was a sinner, but I refused to be a hypocrite, at least insofar as I knew and could help it. So, upon returning home from my mission, I got a job working at bank for 4 months and then got knee surgery again. After which I decided I was moving back to California to Santa Barbara and attend the local college for two years then I would transfer to sierra flight academy in Oakland. I truly felt "good" and at "peace" about the decision and was very existed. I wanted to be a helicopter pilot since I was 6 yrs old and since I couldn't play volleyball ever again, I might as well go with my other childhood dream. I took a trip down to Santa Barbara after surgery to 'scout it out' with my best friend. I went to the college to see the campus and review the courses they offered. After which I found myself on the beach. I was watching the helicopters fly out of the local airport. But the obvious settled in. WHY DAMNIT! Sitting on the beach, I turned to my friend and just shook my head. He knew what that shake meant: I was not supposed to be there nor would I be coming back out to California. Head down, I walked back to the car and drove back to Utah. Hell, it would've sucked living there anyway not being able to play ball or surf---way too torturous so I guess it turned out for the best. But, I was still going to pursue becoming a pilot. The night after I got back to Utah I had a miniature stroke. It was one of the longest ordeals in my life. My sister and mom and dad wanted me to go into the emergency room, but I waited. I knew what it meant. I wouldn't be able to fly. I finally got into a neurologist and the first thing he asked me what my professional goals were...I told him I was going to be a copter pilot. He said: "I've been a neurologist for the navy for 20 years, you won't be able to be a pilot with your medical history." that response was the reason why I waited to go into the emergency room. I couldn't avoid the inevitable on that one! Anyway, after the "mini stroke" I moved to Nephi, Utah with my friend. We would study for hours and talk through the night about the church and the gospel. I started cooking at a hospital (decided in high school I wanted to be a chef alongside being a copter pilot). I worked on Sundays and how free it felt!!! Of course I justified it for my church mindedness--- "I’m cooking for the sick." But besides that, church was an absolute joke. Same stuff over and over and over and over again. I also started seeing a girl---a lot of her. So naturally the last thing I felt like doing is going to church so I thanked "god" that I worked on Sundays:) my family and friends thought my "countenance" changed and I wasn’t happy because I wasn’t going to church----I began to understand all those returned missionaries I used to look down upon that would "fall away." I began to realize that there was no "constructing intellectual reasons to justify their sinning their way out of the church." I was now in their position and the phrase could now be said of the church and the leaders:
After 8 months of being in Nephi Utah I moved to Georgia in 2003. I moved with my parent to Georgia, my intent was to go to college. I was planning on going into "Religious Studies with emphasis on New Testament." I was accepted to a pretty prestigious college but could not come up with the money (though the college advertised that "all students who get accepted will be able to attended regardless of their financial status.") so those hopes went down the drain. I then decided that's I'd resurrect my passion for cooking and attend Le Cordon Bleu in Atlanta. I applied, was accepted, and signed up for my semester schedule....but again, I couldn't get funding because I was too young to independently apply for school loans. I was going to "persevere" and do whatever I could do to get funding but I just gave up. I knew there was no way my physical health (knees and wrists) could handle the rigorous schedule and demand of the cooking profession. I continued going to church, was gospel doctrine teacher and seminary teacher (early morning AHHH!!!) I actually "got back to the temple" as was in the full swing of all things church...full time missionary at its fullest! Immediately upon moving to Georgia though, I could sense the obvious "evil" from specific leaders (in the ward and in the stake leadership). However, when sharing with my sister (who was married and had children) and my mom, they did not have the same intuition—in fact I was being "judgmental" according to them. My reply was "by their fruits ye shall know them." by that time in my life I was done with "giving the benefit of the doubt" to anyone when it came to "leadership" or those who "should know better." I was going to call apples, apples, and not "those are just seeds that might become apples." It took my sister and mom about a 1 ½ years and several dreams to finally realize that the kaboose (me) was right again. They first had to experience the bitter end of persecution from these "priesthood brethren." But I was the sinner and far from the "spirit" so how could I know---especially when I would listen to Metallica and Black Sabbath while studying my "holy" scriptures:) I also would speak against the "brethren" and how they "shut up the kingdom of God to the 'saint' and suffer not to enter in themselves." how could I say such a thing about the PROPHET and the APOSTLES...I surely was falling into apostasy! ...pouring rain, mid afternoon, digging a grave with my dad for my dog Emma. "Third Worst day of my life." seriously thinking about using this "priesthood" to raise my dog from the dead. Laying in bed reading the bible I was so frustrated. There's so many churches in that area, I wanted to "preach" but I NEVER WANTED ANYONE TO COME TO CHURCH...but I knew the Book of Mormon was what it claimed to be. I then threw the bible across the room onto the floor. I walked out to my dogs grave and started a fire and burned the pages of that bible a handful at a time. Unfortunately, I did not have the ingredients for smores with me. If I want truth, I'll go to God myself, it's just a matter of time.... In Georgia I remember going to a stake priesthood meeting where the stake president was speaking about widows. He shared a story that recently took place in the stake where a man was killed and left his wife with no money and he didn't have life insurance. Thinking that the stake pres was actually going to use this example to teach the pure gospel and say something like "we need to make sure and take care of our widows," etc; instead he made it a perfect example on what NOT to do to your wife, by being killed and not having life insurance. He pleaded with the priesthood brethren to make sure and have life insurance so those whose husbands pass on will not be a burden on the church. During this same meeting the first counselor addressed the brethren FOR ½ AN HOUR on....ready for this one....how to make yogurt out of food storage powdered milk!!!! How does one have silent tears and total rage swell up within the same heart? I did. But looking around, no one cared, they ate it all up like candy and were laughing and having fun. Nothing mattered to any priesthood brethren anyway; they were all just there to attend pointless and lifeless meetings because they feel obligated to and also to boost their personal egos. Also, in another stake priesthood meeting a "seventy" was speaking to bishops and counselors on the discretion of handing out church funds to those who find themselves in a dire financial situation, and in a parenthetical statement said: "but if they (the members who ask for money) were paying an honest tithe they would not be having ANY financial problems and wouldn't have need to ask the bishop....". What? Serious! Yup, he was serious. How sad. When I moved back out to Utah in 2004 is when I had a different stance on being "inactive." I didn't feel like I was being rebellious by not going to church--- I didn't feel that way at all. it was just something inside that gave me the assurance that I would never find truth or peace being in the church, it was the acceptance of the true reason why the book of Mormon was written FOR OUR DAY ("I speak unto you as if ye are present, yet ye are not...but behold Jesus Christ hath shown you unto me and I know your doing!")---just as EVERY church in the book of Mormon was corrupted, so was the "holy church of god" in the last day: "why have ye polluted the holy church of god." the thing is though, no matter how bad I "sinned" in life---it never affected my search for truth or my desire to know, and also my knowing that "god knew" that everything in my life paled in comparison to that desire to know. I would look at everyone in the church and say "they are not even serious, they know nothing, they couldn't care less about truth; they only care about the appearance of keeping church standards...they only care about being 'good' " I on the other hand knew I was serious about what mattered. Because of that I kinda subconsciously knew that God didn't give a rats bum bum about what I was doing because he knew I was one of the very few who was going to seek him out and actually "find him"---IN THIS LIFE. I actually believed in HIS words and HIS promises---- "if a man love me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." I at least knew that his commandments were the TWO HE referred to: love "god" and love thy neighbor as thyself. At this point in time I knew "god knew my heart." He knew my pleadings for truth, he knew my tears, he knew my total depression of not knowing truth, he knew ME. The more I didn't "pray" the more I felt closer to him. Why? Because when you pray with your mouth and he doesn't "answer" it's a continual reminder that your "not worthy" or your "lacking in faith" and He seems so far because of these things; but when you pray with your whole might, mind, and strength (your life) you know you are "walking in the spirit" and by and by, you'll receive the continual prodding and directions of the spirit in the LORDS TIME, not yours---when these things happen, you know he (his angels) have and always will be there to give direction only when supposed to---and it's a wonderful delight. And besides all this, I have food and am not starving, so what right do I have to ask for ANYTHING when millions of God's children are starving to death. So I then thought my whole life should be one continual prayer and one continual living scripture...therefore I stopped reading the scriptures on a regular basis. Then stopped altogether. I always realized that I saw things that others didn't, things that seems so clear and so obvious; the more I saw, the lonelier I got. It was just a matter of consciously accepting the obvious and aligning my life with those truths (stop denying). I started going to school again during which this period of time I would break pita bread and drink water in remembrance of Christ every day, whether it be morning or night....lasted a week though. Didn't get me closer to truth. However I realized that the most powerful things contained in the Book of Mormon were the things that were not written. As I kept going to school the anxiety and depression worsened till I broke. I despised the learning of the world and the way the colleges were established purely for money and not for true education. The textbooks were all written by philosophers of this world that people look to as gods. There was so much error and falsehood in everything that was being taught---certainly it is Lucifer's kingdom. I could no longer focus on school or anything other than the fact that I didn't have the truth and I needed it to continue living. How do you explain that to family that can't understand why you 'dropped' outtake school (Stephen, you already have the truth...you're Mormon! Stephen, you need to get a career to support yourself) how do you explain that to friends that only care about making money and thinking that this life is about "making a living" (Stephen, I just don't understand why you're doing what you're doing----I just smile and say--- "nor do I") . I didn't care. I couldn't do anything because I couldn't focus for more than a minute. I couldn't focus. Why? Because all I wanted was the truth...I wanted to experience some reality, something I knew that was totally allusive in this world that I'd experienced so far. So how could I experience something real, something with absolute undeniable truth to it? Easy. Put a gun to my head. I knew I'd be able to escape this world (and end up right back in it). With one flash and KNOW. I was done. I paced back and forth in my apartment hours on end at night conceiving for the first time in my life if I wanted to continue to live in this world. It's not that I wanted to die, it's just that I didn't feel like living anymore in this godforsaken truthless life; I just wanted to 'go back Home." The burden and depression seemed to peak one night and the depth of it seemed deeper than I could climb out of, I really was "losing it"...really losing it. then the thought of go back to Georgia came to mind; clear as can be and peace ensued, I knew immediately that I'd be back in Georgia again, for the third time! I packed up my apartment and was gone within a week. At that time of life I was a "sinner" and what was beyond me was that I knew that it was "direction from God." Why though, I was so "unworthy" of his direction? Every decision and move that I had and have made, has never ever been preceded by "prayer," I just always knew when I had to leave a place and be somewhere else specific...and each move served its purpose, every time! ... But I couldn't send myself over to the other side. As miserable as I felt, I still loved life! I still thought that I could bring some change to this world, even if it was just the one around me. I had high hopes and big dreams to rid the world of homelessness and cure starvation (go figure!) and had the "perfect" plan to go about doing so and nearly had the "financial backing" (which financial means became "slippery") to implement this foundation to do it all (or so I thought).... I didn't care to take credit for anything nor would my name be known --- it's just that I had a conception that I thought I conceived of that few, if any, had conceived of ...(and it was the only OTHER thing that rattled my mind constantly besides the "I don't have the truth, so where the f*%@ is it" question!) ----until Christopher came along with his Seven Friends....and the irony of it all, is that one of the subdivisions of this foundation that I was seeking to establish was called the Widow's Mite. it was when I saw the website for the Worldwide Unite Foundation that no one had to convince me that it truly is the work of the Father---pure religion and undefiled certainly is this---and it was an assurance to me that perhaps, just perhaps, I wasn't too far off from the beaten path! The Worldwide United Foundation is truly THE WORK OF THE FATHER. And reading of the many testimonies of others, its a joy to know that there really is like minded siblings that have understood and believe that all people in this world are our siblings and that it is our responsibility to take care of the "least" among us regardless of religion or race. I have not been nor am I a scripturian of any kind. I am not a history buff. I am not good with numbers or dates or remember names, places, or people. I am what you call a reader digest version sorta guy; once I find contradictions I make the observation, and no longer delve myself further into it (well, for the most part). I couldn't imagine that finding the truth one would have to exhaust themselves and piece it together in their own puzzle. I bought books, looked at em, knew there was no truth in them, sold them back, and "went to God." He did not say "oh by the way, read the work of Josephus and you'll know the truth about the history of your fathers," he did not say "read the writing of Gileadi of the church to understand the prophecies of Isaiah and ye shall know" or "read the temple scroll by Yigael Yadin and you'll know" or "read the apocrypha and dead sea scroll or the Nag Hammadi library and you'll know," or "I will send unto you Hugh Sibley and he will defend the Church and my kingdom and he will give you the truth, but you'll only know if you can afford to pay the price for his ridiculously expensive books." Nope, nope , nope, and nope... He says: "WHEN YOU REND THAT VEIL OF UNBELIEF THAN THESE THINGS SHALL BE MADE KNOWN UNTO YOU IN A BOOK THAT IS SEALED." oh the familiarity of Moroni and his words when reading the sealed portion. How can anyone who has read the book of Mormon not hear Moroni's voice in the sealed portion? Baffling. It's interesting that the more a latter day saint wants to "learn" about the gospel of Christ and the "mysteries of Godliness," THEY GO TO PHILOSOPHERS AND RELIGION PROFESSORS AT BYU because 'READING THE TALKS OF THE BRETHREN ARE SO BORING'. I read way more books/articles etc written by NON APOSTLES than APOSTLES. Till this day, even my dad, hardly owns any books claiming to be authored by any latter day apostles...and he's still reading them. All you do is have to ask "can't you find the Words of Eternal Life in the books SOLD by the latter day prophets, seers, and revelators." So back again in Georgia in 2006 I read and studied, but mostly pondered my brain to death. Every time I read the "doctrine and covenants" I would repeatedly realized how backwards the church does things. They excommunicate, when it says don't. they refuse to baptize people when they should do it; they "give the Holy Ghost" way before it says you should; they don't use tithings and fast offerings the way the D&C prescribes to( for the poor, needy, fatherless, and widows); the functions of offices of the priesthood today don't match up with the responsibilities that are set forth in "latter day revelation"; I don't care to go on....needless to say the church couldn't even follow its own of scripture, and come to find out---its own perverted and adulterated version of "latter day revelations." I was still in Georgia the same time "Elder Cook" became an apostle. When I saw him on television something inside me churned like never before. Sure I knew that the apostles taught false doctrine and they put themselves up as a light to the world, some were lawyers, doctors, judges, etc. But when I looked at this Elder Cook----something inside me changed. I immediately researched who and what he was---but it didn't stop with him, he was just the first domino that I pushed over. Then it happened....the severance was complete-- it is what it is and it was what is was. I could no longer deny that I belonged to the church that literally are the latter day Jews. Subtly yet powerfully the doctrine of "the first shall be last and the last shall be first," and "there's a type and shadow of all things," hit me like a ton of "still and small voices" that permeated my whole being. I was done-- done with pretending, done with turning the blind eye, done with trying to convince myself that the Christ actually directed this so called church of His, done with walking in the parade of contradiction. I silently and smilingly sauntered away from the marching band, batonists, acrobats, mimes, and magicians, into a side alley of no return.... At the end of 2006 I flew back to Utah. I thought I was going to go back to church to "preach repentance" from the inside. I went to a family ward for some time and my stomach couldn't take it. I wrote a letter anonymously to both stake high councils, the stake presidencies, and all the bishoprics in those stakes...the topic of the letter was "No Christ in Church." Here's a little excerpt: "In our last Fast and Testimony meeting, 19 people bore their "testimony." Out of 48 minutes, 85 seconds was spent on mentioning Christ, His name, and/or His Atonement. 60 seconds of that was one person. 85 seconds out of 48 minutes! Of all the children that bore testimony…none bore testimony on the Savior. Why! Because they follow the example of the adults." I then attempted to go to a singles ward, in hopes that perhaps the "young" will be more receptive to the true gospel if they'd here it; that was in vain for I was some no name, long haired hippy that would never be given a calling or even a chance to even speak. More than ever before, I realized how EASY it was for the Jews to reject the Christ because of the effectiveness of the leaders in setting a standard of "righteousness" which must always be preceded by their standards of grooming and appearance. Could it really be that simple---yup! In 2008 I flew to England to see a former mission friend. The purpose of the trip was to explain to him face to face the obvious condition of "the church." He has a keen mind and was a convert from Sikhism. He was serving as a counselor in the bishopric when I was visiting him. I went to church with him while I was there. He introduced me to an "investigator" who's been going to church for a two years straight. The missionaries were speaking to this older feeble man about his "drinking" problem and when he can "kick the habit" then they can baptize him. HE HAD NOT MISSED CHURCH FOR TWO YEARS. I later then spoke with my friend (first counselor in bishopric) and asked "why the hell have you not baptized him, he WANTS to be baptized and YOU KNOW the "word of wisdom" is NOT a commandment." My friend would not listen:
During my visit we discussed many things but most importantly "the one mighty and strong" as referred to in the doctrine and covenants section 85, and how this "one mighty and strong" would "set in order the house of God." (Please see the linked "One Mighty and Strong" article for the true meaning and identification of "The One Mighty and Strong). We then specifically spoke about the sealed portion and how IT WOULD NOT BE TRANSLATED BY ANY SO-CALLED PROPHET, SEER, OR REVELATOR FROM THE CHURCH, but it would be done by one OUTSIDE of the church. … since then I’ve told my friend in England about the sealed portion and he's pretended as if we did not speak of those things; and I have never heard from him since. He likes his "priesthood" and his own "understanding" of the scriptures because the whole stake looks to him as a light and example of "righteousness."...the praise of the world... Around the time I returned from England, my mom's sister killed herself. While driving my mom back and forth from different places to make arrangements for her sisters funeral, she asked about why I was doing what I was doing and what I actually thought about the church, etc. She has always accused me of "you think you know everything, and talk as if you do." "You are arrogant and don't listen to any counsel." (tee hee hee:). I then told her: "Moroni says 'by the power of the Holy Ghost ye shall know the truth of all things', do you not have the Holy Ghost then because you do not know the truth of all things. the day will come though, that a man will declare to you that he knows ALL things, and he will be a true messenger of the Father sent to prepare the way, but you will reject him because you'll think he's arrogant because he'll claim that he knows all things, even as Christ did and Joseph Smith..." And then it came to pass that a few months later I uttered these words to my friend: "ll find him, don't worry."
AMEN, AMEN, AND AMEN. From an unlearned and lowly sibling of our Christ, stephen
Brother Scott,
I await a response to the first question -- only a simple YES or NO: "Would you personally support and endorse with ONLY your signature, the one and only perfect plan to completely eliminate world poverty, hunger, and homelessness?" An excerpt I wrote to a friend: "The jewish leaders killed Christ because he did not pay the proper respect to them that they thought they deserved. They whined and cried because his words of plainness single-handedly dismantled everything they thought brought them salvation; they killed him because he was a threat to the Leaders Monetary Kingdom. Why do you think the leaders had to "rally the people"? In a matter of days, Christ went FROM being popular among the people and the leaders were afraid to speak against him because of it--- TO being sacrificed by the will of the same people? It's not the members that would have suffered, it would have been the leaders that would have been stripped of their titles and praise they received from the members." I can only imagine the hardheartedness of the brethren in which you will go up against should you even consider to "hearken unto these things." Lehi and Alma were high priests that forsook the church upon hearing the words of true prophet.
In case you have not seen, I attach the letter which Christopher wrote to the First Presidency during Hinckley’s tenure, in which he offers to gift to the church The Sealed Portion. Their non-response trumpeted these words: "We have received the word of God, and we need no more of the word of God, for we have enough." To set up a private and confidential meeting with Christopher, contact: Julie Taggart |
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