Fail with Glory - A message of inclusion

I remember the last time we sang God Speed the Right several months ago. As you know, our Branch President can sing quite well.  He has a strong voice that can fill the hall we used to meet in.  Sometimes, however, the Branch President will need to take care of some urgent business during the meeting.  So, during the hymn he will lean over to one of his counselors and ask us to set up an interview after church or something like that.  After whispering something to me during the hymn, he joined back in on the wrong verse.  With great gusto and strong enough to drown out the rest of the congregation, he sang

Like the great and good in story,

If we fail, we fail with glory.

His wife desperately and unsuccessfully tried to get his attention from the front pew. Others throughout the congregation were laughing.  My own heart was pricked and this event would cause me to think deeply about these lyrics.

That is what I’d like to talk about today.  Why do we sing about failing and failing with glory?  What does it mean to fail with glory?

This is what Karen Davidson, author of Our Latter-Day Hymns, has to say:

This hymn repeats twelve times a fervent, four-word prayer, 'God speed the right.' These words imply that the 'right' has not yet arrived; we have not seen the day when the literal kingdom of Christ has been established on the earth, binding Satan and his powers. Thus the hymn is not about victory; it is about a struggle and the attitudes we should bring to struggle. For the time being, at least, a proper attitude is the real victory.

So, I want to tell you about a time when I failed.  When I went to university I wanted to run on the cross country team.  I showed up for the first day of tryouts.  One of the coaches listed off some standards.  He said if you had not previously run a 4:20 mile you don’t belong here.  I thought to myself, I haven’t run a 4:20 mile. I realized I didn’t belong there.  Dejected, I didn’t show up the next day and thus ended my attempts to make the team.  Several months later I learned that people who had not run a 4:20 mile and had a record similar to my own did make the team and did, in fact, belong there.

And so what I want to talk about today are the ways that we as members of the church, might sometimes send similar messages to each other - that they don’t belong. Much of what I'm about to say is inspired by and borrowed from a high councilor who shared his talk online.  Unfortunately, I don't know his name to give him proper credit.  The gospel of Jesus Christ is one of inclusion: our God aims to save and exalt all of his beloved children. Ironically, the Church of Jesus Christ sometimes feels like one of exclusion: when people aren’t sure if they fully believe or belong, they often feel like they are being pushed out. What I want to talk about are some reasons why people start to feel like they don’t belong, and offer some suggestions for how we can make sure our church is a more welcoming place for such people.

When I talk about “people who wonder whether they belong here,” I’m not referring to some separate group of doubters or sinners. I suspect most, if not all, of us have felt this way before. More to the point, I have felt this way.

One of the main reasons that people feel like they don’t belong in the church is that they don’t believe the doctrine as easily as others seem to believe it, or they don’t see the doctrine the way the majority of members seem to see it. Some listen to the testimonies in Fast and Testimony meeting or Sunday School and wonder why their own faith isn’t so absolute.  Perhaps, you have felt this way.

Our discussions in church sometimes seem geared toward achieving agreement and consensus. Surely there are basic principles we all agree on, but we should try not to be uncomfortable when others voice opinions that differ from our own.

As members of the church, we tend to get especially uncomfortable when someone expresses serious doubts about the gospel or the church, or shares opinions that conflict with standard doctrine. This is natural, but unfortunate. Everyone struggles with faith, but it is sad when those who are struggling feel like their voices aren’t welcome, or their opinions a threat. Instead of being treated with patience and empathy, they feel like they are being told “if you don’t believe it, then you don’t belong here” – or, even worse – “if you don’t believe all of it, then you don’t belong here.”

How can we make church a place where everyone feels welcome, including those who are wrestling with doubt? I think a good place to start is with empathy.

If we want to be more empathetic toward people who struggle with faith, or more forgiving of ourselves when our own faith falters, a good place to start is to recognize that the Lord appears to have intended for us to struggle. In church culture we like to use the language of certainty: we are taught to say that we know the church is true, and we like words like “perfect” and “firm” and “unshakeable” and “beyond a shadow of doubt.” But, in my opinion, an honest assessment of our relationship with God must admit that it involves a great deal of mystery, nuance, uncertainty and confusion. We’re told that if we are unsure, we can just ask Him in prayer to tell us it’s true. But for many of us the answers to those prayers don’t come easily and if and when they finally come, may be “dimly perceived” and difficult to interpret.

I’d like to talk to those with doubts.  I recently came across a fascinating article called Stages of Faith written by John Paulien, a Bible scholar. I'd like to paraphrase a few of his words,

[Occasionally] at the very height of spiritual success, something [can] happen that we least expect....It is a [faith crisis,] a personal crisis, [some] have called the dark night of the soul. Past certainties suddenly become inadequate. We call into question everything we have ever believed and everything we have ever done. We feel like failures, like we can’t do anything right. We are humbled. Our world caves in. Our faith, which sustained us powerfully up until this point, doesn’t seem to work anymore. All of our answers are replaced with questions. God either vanishes from view or breaks out of the comfortable box we held Him in. We “hit bottom,”...and can seem to go no further on the spiritual journey. We have saved others, but ourselves we cannot save. We feel completely alone and abandoned by God...

There are examples of this...in the Bible [and throughout our scriptures]. The classic case is Job, who did nothing to deserve it, yet went through both real-life tragedy and an inner crisis of spiritual depression almost to the point of suicide (Job 3:1-26)...[Even] Jesus, who at the very point His glorious mission is revealed to Him ends up [buffeted by Satan for forty days.]

....[This] dark night of the soul seems like the end of all our spiritual hopes and dreams, but it is not. It is actually a summons to deeper intimacy with [our Heavenly Father.] ....We realize that, while the God we have known up until this point was real, we need to rediscover Him as if for the first time.

....In spite of how it feels, this darkness [can be] a call from God.  It is a sign that [Heavenly Father] is deeply engaged in your life. While doubt can be a negative thing for spiritual life [and doubt can lead to more doubt,] the dark night of the soul is a doubt that can lead to deeper faith.

I think many times when we hear people bear their testimony they talk about how it was a crisis of some sort, often spiritual, that led to the faith they have today.  I think it is important to understand this faith crisis can be very real and a natural part of a faith progression.  Sometimes, people in this crisis, can feel like they no longer belong in church.  And that is just when they need it the most.

Unfortunately, some of the actions we take can exacerbate these feelings.  I think it’s important that we not assume faith crises are the consequence of sin or neglect. Sometimes when a person’s faith faltered and he or she has fallen away from the church, I have heard people say “she must not have been reading her scriptures” or “there must have been some sin in his life.” It is likely true that, on average, people who stop coming to church do read their scriptures less than people who do come to church. But correlation is not causation and people who diligently study the scriptures can still have crises of faith. But the real danger in these attitudes is not simply that they’re inaccurate; it’s that they can be dismissive and disrespectful to people who are genuinely struggling, with a sincere heart, to find and understand truth. If we convince ourselves that faith crises only happen to people who are doing something wrong, the message we send to people with doubts is “if you’re not a believer, I’ll infer you’re a sinner.” This is not likely to make them feel welcome.

You may have noticed an implicit premise in what I’m saying, which is that we should want everyone to feel welcome at church, including those with doubts and concerns about the church. And it’s possible you’re asking yourself, “Well, do we really want them here? We’re here to nurture our faith. Do we really want to increase the number of skeptics in our sacrament meeting?” With the possible exception of people who come to church to willfully antagonize which is quite rare, I think the answer is yes - we should want everyone to be here, and we should want everyone to feel welcome here. Did Christ associate only with the faithful? He ministered to believers and unbelievers, to the sinful and to the repentant.

I’ve talked about how people who have doubts can feel pushed away from participating in the church. Another threat to our sense of belonging is a perception that we’re not as righteous or as spiritual as everyone else. Ours is a church with many programs and prescriptions, many dos and many don’ts. It can be hard to keep up with all the things we’re supposed to be doing, and easy to feel like we’re not measuring up – especially if it seems like everyone else is doing everything right. When we see perfect families smiling on Facebook in front of the temple we may feel inspired but, unfortunately, we may also wonder about how we will never measure up.  How do we feel?  Perhaps, like we don’t belong.  

As Sister Wixom said in her talk during the most recent general conference, church should not be a place to “put on a perfect face.” If we present our true, honest selves, then those around us will feel comfortable being their true, honest selves. And it’s the true honest selves that the Lord loves, no matter what stage of spiritual progression we are at.

I think we all belong - the sister who had a cup of coffee this morning, the single mom who doesn’t see herself in the Family Proclamation, the young woman who doesn’t understand her role and relationship to the priesthood, the father who doesn’t know the church is true but brings his kids to church because he does believe in the values that are taught here and the blessings of the community.  I think if you have the interest and the courage to walk through the front doors you do belong and should feel welcome in our community.  

In 2004, The Relief Society General President said, “It’s the variety in a garden that contributes to its beauty—we need daisies and lilies and buttercups; we need gardeners who water, nurture, and care…differences don’t matter, for belonging is charity, the pure love of Christ, in action. And charity never faileth.  Whether we serve in Primary or Young Women, whether we’re active or less so, whether we’re married or single, whether we’re spring chickens or fall hens, we all belong…”

I believe that Jesus Christ lives and that he loves us. I believe that he loves us in spite of, and perhaps even because of, our faults. I believe he understands our struggles with faith, and expects each of us to travel a different road to redemption. 

Yesterday we showed, Meet the Mormons at the chapel.  The soundtrack has a great song called Glorious.  Here are the lyrics - 

There are times when you might feel aimless

You can't see the places where you belong

But you will find that there is a purpose

It's been there within you all along and when you're near it

You can almost hear it.

[Chorus]

It's like a symphony just keep listening

And pretty soon you'll start to figure out your part

Everyone plays a piece and there are melodies

In each one of us, oh, it's glorious

[Verse 2]

And you will know how to let it ring out as you discover who you are

Others around you will start to wake up

To the sounds that are in their hearts

It's so amazing, what we're all creating

[Chorus]

It's like a symphony just keep listening

And pretty soon you'll start to figure out your part

Everyone plays a piece and there are melodies

In each one of us, oh, it's glorious

It is my testimony that everyone does play a piece.  And there are melodies in each one of us.  There is strength in our diversity.  In our diversity of experiences, culture, and even in our weakness.  I’d be a bit bold and say there is even strength in our diversity of sin.  That’s not to say that sin should be celebrated, just a humble acknowledgement that it exists.  That we are all sinners.  That sin and doubt are a real part of our spiritual journey and here is our path to redemption.  We need to come to the Savior for forgiveness and I believe this body of saints gives us the best chance to move along our faith journey and improve those weaknesses.  It is my prayer that as we move on our path towards our greatest aspirations that we will treat each other with love, patience, and perspective.