Source: Mission President Handbook, 2006, page 86.
https://www.scribd.com/doc/201377673/LDS-Mission-
President-s-Handbook

I edited together some clips from Travis Anderson's channel to highlight his argumentative, mean-spirited and condescending approach to apologetic interactions.

Here is a summary of the clips:

1. He says if he prays and gets an answer it's God, if he doesn't get an answer it's God's will and either way it confirms God is real.

2. He is discussing the biblical punishment for a woman who is raped and who doesn't cry out. He argues that the man can't know that's "bad".

3. The triune God is an arbitrary monster.

4. If only Panama and Peru would let Mormons "dig up the whole country" then we would find the Book of Mormon peoples.

5. Paul claimed he saw Jesus and Christians accept that so they are hypocritical not to accept Joseph Smith's claims. Christians who accept the Bible should accept the Mormon religion because both have weak support for their claims.

6. "Jeremy Runnels is an idiot and anybody who reads (the CES letter) and takes it seriously probably falls into the same camp"

7. The papyrus we have "has never been claimed to be the book of Abraham". "How many egyptologists papers have you read about the Book of Abraham?" "I believe the biblical texts are just historical documents" and if there are contradictions I just shrug my shoulders. I don't think God wrote them.

8. The person he is talking to says he won't answer the questions about the historical false prophecies of Joseph Smith about Independence. Travis says yes I did. I told you D&C 84 and 124 and that responds to it. Travis says so you read them 5 years ago, don't you remember what you read? I remember what I read five years ago.

9. Jacob Hansen is not an apologist, he's a "popularizer". "Jacob Hansen owns an ice cream shop!"

10. He says he was an atheist before. "I struggle to believe God exists. If someone takes away the Book of Mormon and stuff I will just bag God altogether...the God of Protestants, the God of Catholics is a horrific monster!"

I think Travis is better at creating atheists than believers. When even Steve Pynakker says you're a bad dude then I think there is something to it.

I am a Christian who has been studying Mormonism since college, but I always seem to run into more questions than answers. I don't even know how to phrase some of the many questions I have, but I will give it a shot and hope some of y'all can help me understand LDS doctrine better as I continue to read more LDS literature.

In the book of Ether, Jesus says that Adam was made in his image, but Genesis clearly says he was made in the image of God (Elohim). I was under the impression that Yahweh was Jesus and Elohim is Heavenly Father, but I guess that is not the case here, since Jesus is Elohim whose image Adam was created in.

1. What does it mean to be God and how do Heavenly Father and Jesus both get to hold that title of God while being separate beings?

2. Is Yahweh Jesus in Mormon theology, and Elohim is Heavenly Father? How do these Old Testament names relate to current theology?

3. I also thought Mormons believed that Jesus became God when he ressurected, but I suppose this is false, so did Jesus become God, or was he always God?

I would appreciate answers from all of you, TBMs, PIMOs, ExMOs, never-MOs and amything in between. I often get "We haven't received revelation on that" when I ask theological questions, so any answer is better than that.

LDS accept that a human proxy can take the place of a dead relative, or some other person who died without baptism.

Do you think the LDS god would accept mechanical dolls and robots dunking “phantom “ proxies for works for the dead? the automated process could facilitate a lot more baptisms. a recorded voice could also say the required prayer much faster. work could also continue without stop, except for maybe routine maintenance of equipment and maybe program updates.

Does LDS scripture actually state proxies for the dead need to be human?

Hi all,

I've enjoyed being a fairly active participant here and engaging with many of you.

I am having some employment and personal situations (nothing serious) that are going to eat up most all of my time for a while. So I will have to take a break from r/mormon.

Best wishes to all and I hope to see you all again soon.

(Hope you all enjoyed the BYU/ND football game. Go Cougars! And basketball is starting now!)

Reading Schedule & Discussion Index

Today’s reading: Finish Chapter 2, “When Belief Is Torn.” - Begin: “Seeking Answers but Finding Problems.” - Include: Everything remaining in Chapter 2, including “Preparing the Soil,” the takeaway, reflection questions, and application. - Stop BEFORE: “Part 2: Prepare the Soil.”

Approximate Kindle anchors: 69/70 to 79. Follow the headings; the Part 2 divider is our stopping point.

Brief synopsis

Strong examines where people seek answers and how those encounters can affect trust. Drawing on survey responses and interviews, he describes a recurring, but explicitly non-rigid, sequence connecting moral concerns, questioning, intensive searching, and damaged belonging.

He then considers the emotional cost of staying silent and distinguishes respondents’ relationships with God from their relationships with the Church. That distinction won’t describe everyone; these accounts shouldn’t stand in for every faith transition.

The chapter closes by urging readers to listen without immediately correcting, defending, or trying to fix someone. There’s plenty to discuss here, including what listening can accomplish and what still needs an actual answer or change.

Discussion questions

1. How well does Strong distinguish unanswered questions from damaged trust?
2. What does his God-versus-Church distinction clarify, and whose experiences might it leave out?
3. Where is compassionate listening enough, and where do institutions need to change?

We’re aiming for roughly ten Kindle pages daily, adjusted to natural breaks. 32 days remains an estimate.

Candid disagreement is welcome. Full logistics and award details are in the index.

Would really appreciate some advice both from exMos and attending members.

I am feeling a lot of emotions right now, kinda on the verge of tears after meeting with some missionaries for the second time.

I will try to collect m thoughts and not make things too incoherent. I grew up in a very liberal mainline Protestant church, female pastor, Bible is an allegory, mission trips every summer to some place. I then watched as basically right after I got out of highschool that foundation go away, by the time I was 20 the average age in the pews was nearing retirement. It hasn't even been a decade and according to one of two people I know who still keep tabs, the church basically is insolvent due to lack of attendance even on holidays.

In college I read a lot on Catholicism for various Biblical exegesis classes, I thought about converting to Judaism but the introductory classes were never available. They never had any seats left.So the years have now gone by and I'm almost 30 trying to rediscover my faith and I know about the BOM from the musical and from folks I knew in college, I figure the community is great. I visit the YSA and everyone's nice to me, everyone is around my age and we're talking like normal. I felt like a hermit who crawled out to civilization it has genuinely been that difficult to make connections with people my age around here.

So then today I am talking with the missionaries and we get done with the lesson, I'm planning to attend on Sunday just to seee what a service is like and someone will be driving me. We talked mostly about relationships, Adam and Eve.. it felt very basic Christian theological stuff. My mom then comes into the kitchen a while after they leave and says "why not visit a Jewish temple or a Catholic church? Don't mistake them being kind as faith."

Which... Fair. I might be a bit in over my skis here but to me at this stage of my life where am I supposed to go eh? The Reform temple only meets once a month, the Conservative Jewish groups haven't picked up the phone in a year nor answered my emails. I don't know if I could sincerely believe in the Catholic trinity and I especially find a lot of the trad-Catch discourse online something that puts me off attending alone. I think had I come to where I now live and met a bunch of people near me age I wouldn't feel so strongly about this?... I feel like second to belief is a supportive community, knowledge that you aren't totally alone. I know logically it doesn't hurt because I haven't yet been baptized but I just can't imagine walking into a Jewish service and finding the same sense of community? There was a community church Christmas service I went to last year where they played all this music from a prompter, people got up to eat cake, we sat on folding chairs under a tent. It didn't feel like church?

I hate that I have this lump in my throat of "what if". Maybe I should try to reach out and just.. see how it goes and also attend the YSA things to decide? I've found that talking to members has helped shape my perspective a lot more than the missionaries, understanding how people actually live the faith. Granted my mom had no idea the BOM was anything other than a musical title.. but still, in the back of my mind I know she has a point to not overly commit right away.. but I just don't see things being any different to all the secular events I've tried wherein I'm the youngest by several decades?? Getting a planet in the afterlife is not swaying me, lads.

https://www.nytimes.com/2026/10/21/briefing/idaho-womens-health.html

This was The New York Times' main headline yesterday. It basically goes against the Church’s stance on Idaho’s Prop 1, saying there aren’t enough doctors and clinics for women’s health. Thoughts on this? Does the Church actually care about women getting the help they need?

I am not Mormon but I am researching the theology because I feel that it explains a lot more than mainstream Christianity does. I am interested in the Adam-God doctrine and I was wondering if Adam and Eve would be considered Native American due to the garden of Eden being in Missouri. I looked up Jackson county where the garden of Eden would be, and the historical inhabitants were the Osage tribe. Does this mean that Adam and Eve would be Native American or ancestors of that tribe?

When a household arrives unannounced into a settled camp, every custom becomes visible.

The arrival changed this.

Children ran ahead, uncertain whether to greet or retreat. Beasts were untethered, then tethered again. Goods were set down where no space had been prepared for them. What had been a stopping place became, all at once, a gathering.

Lehi came forward to receive Ishmael’s people with warmth sharpened by relief. Sariah followed, her expression already working to reconcile necessity with kindness. She embraced Ishmael’s wife and spoke with her at once of children, of travel, of the small mercies that make endurance possible. Nothing was said publicly of burial, though everyone present had measured the company and knew what had been lost.

The first meal was taken politely, which is to say stiffly. Prayers were offered twice—once in our father’s accustomed form, once in Ishmael’s. Neither displaced the other, and both left a residue of unease.

The daughters sat together. The eldest met our eyes without challenge or invitation. The second smiled once, briefly, then returned to her food. The youngest watched everything. Their father’s place remained open longer than courtesy required, until at last someone moved the dish aside.

“Already,” we said, “the camp is divided.”

That night, the tents rearranged themselves without instruction. Ishmael’s household gathered close, their fire burning longer into the dark. Ours lay farther off, the space between filled with glances and half-formed conclusions.

Customs collided.

Ishmael’s family observed the evening meal as they always had, with elders seated first and daughters moving quietly between them, eyes lowered, hands practiced. Bread was passed in an order that required no discussion. Cups followed age and standing. Such things are not trifles in a household. They teach children who belongs where before any doctrine can improve the matter.

Our father allowed it, though the effort showed in his face. He had grown accustomed to a looser table, to sons reaching when hungry and conversation wandering where it would. He was a generous man, but generosity is more easily offered when it is not required daily, and we learned that night how easily righteousness can be mistaken for custom.

Later, Sariah spoke quietly with Ishmael’s wife. We saw in their exchange the careful diplomacy of women tasked with softening the consequences of men’s certainties. They spoke of loss, of usefulness, of how long a thing must last before it becomes familiar; and beneath that, we thought, of how a household continues once the man who consented to it is no longer there to answer for the decision.

“This,” we thought, “is the true work of salvation.”

As days passed, novelty wore away. Old soreness remained. Tempers shortened. Expectations multiplied without instruction. What had been prophecy became routine, and routine revealed its own costs.

Nephi moved among the camp with quiet competence, answering questions, settling disputes, rearranging burdens. He did not command; he assumed. This unsettled us more than commandment would have.

“You are very sure of yourself,” we said.

“The Lord hath prepared the way,” he replied.

“Yes,” we answered. “And you do so enjoy walking it first.”

By the third evening, alliances had formed. Resentments had names. Children played together among burdens not their own, learning the shape of a future that had already begun without them.

We stood by the river and saw that what had once been a temporary encampment now bore the weight of something more durable—not unity, but necessity wearing the garments of order.

Nephi looked out over the gathered tents.

“We are being prepared,” he said.

“Yes,” we replied. “We feel it keenly.”

Thus did the journey change from movement to settlement, and the cost of the vision present itself not as danger alone, but as daily life.

Reading Index & Discussion Links

Reading date: October 22, 2026
Begin: Chapter 2, “When Belief Is Torn”
Stop BEFORE: “Seeking Answers but Finding Problems”
Approximate Kindle navigation: 61 → around 70. The stop heading appears on the screen anchored at 69; follow the heading.

Brief synopsis

Strong opens Chapter 2 by asking readers to take people’s pain seriously rather than explain it away. He acknowledges mixed motives among people who stay and people who leave, resisting a simple sorting of either group into moral categories.

Drawing on survey responses and interviews, he describes faith transitions involving years of effort, difficult conversations, and strained trust. In “Trying Harder, Not Less,” he challenges the assumption that people simply stopped trying. “The Moral Disruption” develops his argument that conflicts of conscience can give people permission to ask questions they previously suppressed.

Discussion questions

1. What does Strong’s focus on culture explain well, and what does it leave unresolved?
2. How well does Strong support his argument that leaving can follow years of sincere effort?
3. How does Strong distinguish moral disagreement from questions about the Church’s truth claims?

Kolby and Cami Reddish discussed on the "Let's Disagree with Kolby Reddish" channel a recent video by Travis Anderson on Travis' "Missionary Discussions" youtube channel.

They point out how poorly he comes across in the discussion with the agnostic investigator, Dan. Dan is a level headed and knowledgeable agnostic who had been meeting with the missionaries for 10 months. This investigator was trying to understand why Travis has a belief in the God of the christian scriptures.

Travis argues that religion is subjective and several times just resorts to circular reasoning. For example he says if I pray to god for something and it happens I know that God is there. If it doesn't happen I know that God's will was for him not to answer. Heads I win, tails you lose kind of argument. Dan points out things in the Christian bible that are bad. Assault, slavery, etc. Travis argues with Dan that Dan can't know what is good and bad yet Dan told him his definition of what is good and bad.

Kolby and Cami's video is here:

https://youtu.be/SUMSKVq-v1c

Travis video that they discussed is here:

https://youtu.be/UDdZ_VpJMak

Kolby and Cami wonder if the LDS church leaders are aware of what Travis is doing and condone monetization of discussions with missionaries.

I mean, it's obvious that past leaders have made mistakes teaching things that were "essential" and later discarded, just as polygamy or the origins of Black people's skin curse. When I was thinking about the difference between them and for example queer marriage people often say that is unchangeable, because it's rooted more deeply on the theology. Is that an actual problem? Has there been something really important later be discarded or revised on that level? And there have been things that were consistent since Joseph Smith ?

Of course not the obvious like "God exists" or "Christ is the Savior" because as important as it is, it's basically the core tenet of mainstream Christianity and says virtually nothing about the Church being true. I mean the *Restored* Gospel of Jesus Christ. How consistent or inconsistent has it been?

So first off I’m pretty open minded, but every now and then I see videos pretty much saying Joseph Smith was a false prophet

I don’t exactly know the specifics on how or why I hope u guys can fill me in on your side

And other videos saying this church (like many others) spiritually is run by the Antichrist spirit, (or a massive fallen principality)

How would u react to these accusations and defend? I’m like pretty much in the dark on your guys’ side of this, not trying to like come barging in and making accusations just trying to get more info

As an avid fan and follower of Dan, I appreciate the insight.

Rylan Fowers on his Ether’s Elephant channel discusses why Nemo the Mormon’s video criticizing the claims that the Book of Abraham is a real translation frustrated him.

So Rylan admits that Joseph Smith couldn’t do a secular translation and we should just accept the claims of Joseph that he got the translation magically and it’s correct.

He points to two “bullseyes” that the apologist want you to know Joseph got right. But he agrees so much isn’t right.

The Book of Abraham has been evidence to me as a lifelong Latter Day Saint that Joseph Smith made wild unsubstantiated claims that I shouldn’t accept. The Book of Abraham we know doesn’t correspond to the papyrus we have so they have to invent all kinds of unprovable possibilities.

I wouldn’t accept such claims from anyone else so I no longer accept them from Joseph Smith. In my view it was a con and deception of Joseph Smith to say he could translate these scrolls.

President Dallin H. Oaks has now been the Prophet of the Church for over a year. In my estimation, his tenure has not been marked by the same large policy changes occasioned by Nelson, but rather a conservative steadying of the ship. Most notably, his temple announcements slowed WAY down. President Nelson announced an eye-watering 200 temples during his tenure, which amounts to 26 temples a year (the same as announcing a temple every two weeks!), as opposed to the much more modest 3 that Oaks presided over the past 12 months.

However, of the threads he unfortunately seems to be inheriting from Nelson is that of out-group derogation and information control. Four months into his presidency, Oaks delivered an address at BYU that makes clear he shares Nelson's views on the wisdom of never seeking counsel from those who do not believe. I've placed an excerpt from his address below for your examination.

The full talk can be read here.

Remember, “to survive spiritually,” you will need the “constant influence of the Holy Ghost.” An abundance of speculation and false information in podcasts and on social media surrounds us. Some may protest or question the truth of Church doctrine without knowing or even understanding the fulness of that doctrine.

Don’t be persuaded by false or inaccurate information. Discuss your concerns with faithful, well-informed friends and always take those concerns to the Lord.

The Lord has told us very little about some things. For example, we know very little about the spirit world that follows mortality or even about the spirit world that preceded it. This lack of knowledge can be harmful when we rely on beliefs on these subjects from well-meaning people who teach beyond what God has chosen to reveal. Trusting God in what we know and in what we don’t know is a great protection against doubts based on mistaken ideas instead of on what God has chosen to reveal.

I share the experience of a wise stake president here on this campus. He was approached by a young man in his stake who admired him and asked him to mentor him in business.

After a few weeks the young man confided, “I should share with you that I have decided to step away from the Church. I no longer believe.”

The surprised stake president immediately began to share his profound testimony of the gospel that had brought him so much joy, peace, and inspiration.

The young man sat stunned, staring back at the stake president with tears in his eyes. He said, “I have not heard anyone speak like that in months. I have been hanging out with friends who don’t believe.”

I say to all of you, as that wise stake president said to this young man, seek friends and associates who are striving to follow the Lord—friends and associates with whom you can feel the Spirit and with whom you can reinforce
your faith.

Surround yourself with people who believe.

It saddens me that he would choose to propagate the same divisive rhetoric that has long been a stumbling block in mixed-faith relationships of every kind across the church. If he could follow his own admonition to be peacemakers and lead with more understanding towards those who disaffiliate, perhaps the echo chamber could be opened, just a bit.

​

Utah Attorney General declares online gambling public nuisance in lawsuit against Kalshi

.... just weeks after D. Todd Christofferson talks about gambling in LDS General Conference.

That's one crazy coincidence!

https://kutv.com/news/local/utah-attorney-general-online-gambling-sports-betting-legal-action-ban-restrictions-lotteries-game-of-chance-prediction-markets-kalshi

I’ve recently found myself questioning a lot of the beliefs I’ve held throughout my life. One of the more difficult parts of this experience has been revisiting my patriarchal blessing, which I received when I was 17 y/o, and reading it through a very different lens.
This is a portion that has stood out to me:
> “Your Heavenly Father wishes you to become like Him, so that one day you will have all of His wisdom and authority and there will be no difference between you and your Heavenly Father. This will require an effort on your part on this earth to live righteously and faithfully and to fulfill the requirements of the great Plan of Salvation which you supported in the premortal existence, and which you came to this earth to fulfill.”

At the time I first received this blessing, I remember feeling a deep sense of excitement and pride. But now, having gone through life experiences that have challenged me to reflect on my beliefs and reconsider what I want for my future, I find myself wondering whether spending my life trying to fulfill the words spoken by that patriarch might actually limit my ability to experience everything this life has to offer… to connect with people, sympathize with their struggles, and learn from their experiences rather than approach those interactions believing that I already possess the “fulness of truth.” I want to become less afraid of perspectives that challenge my own, less concerned with defending what I believe, and more willing to simply listen, understand, and appreciate the ways other people make sense of the world.

The passage above is just a small portion of my blessing, but reading it now, I can begin to understand why my faith may have contributed to so much of the anxiety I experienced growing up.
I don’t want to be God. At least, I don’t think I do.
And when I really sit with that thought, I find myself reflecting on what it meant to be a 17-year-old boy receiving what I understood to be divine instruction about who I was, what I had agreed to before I was born, and what I was now responsible for becoming.
The idea that I had supposedly supported a plan before coming into existence, and that my purpose on earth was to fulfill that plan or risk falling short of my divine potential, feels incredibly overwhelming to me now.

I don’t know that I fully recognized the weight of those expectations at the time. Looking back, I feel a combination of anger, frustration, sadness, and perhaps most importantly, compassion for my younger self. I was an incredibly anxious kid, but I was also extremely hardworking and ambitious. I earned an opportunity to play professional sports straight out of high school, and after serving my mission, I decided to pursue an entirely different sport, one I hadn’t even played in high school. I pushed myself to compete at a high level and eventually earned a Division I athletic scholarship.
I share that because I think it’s important to recognize that, despite the anxiety I experienced, I was someone who worked incredibly hard to achieve the things I set my mind to. But beneath that ambition and determination, I was also struggling in ways that weren’t always visible to the people around me.

Throughout my childhood, I struggled with severe motor and vocal tics that were sometimes so difficult to manage that I would cry out of sadness to God, not understanding why my body was doing these things or why I couldn’t seem to control them.

Recently, after reading The Body Keeps the Score, I’ve been thinking a lot about the relationship between our minds and bodies, and how our bodies can sometimes express distress that we haven’t yet learned to recognize or articulate.
I don’t know how much of my childhood anxiety was connected to my religious upbringing, and I don’t want to pretend that I’ve suddenly found an explanation for everything. But I do wonder whether the expectations I internalized about worthiness, obedience, eternal progression, and fulfilling a predetermined purpose contributed to a sense of pressure that I wasn’t equipped to understand at such a young age.

There’s something deeply emotional (dare I say spiritual?) about looking back at that younger version of myself and wondering how much of his anxiety came from trying to become someone he believed he was supposed to be, rather than discovering who he actually was.
What’s interesting is that, as frightening as this period of questioning has been, I’m also beginning to feel something I haven’t experienced quite like this before. A desire for connection.

I’ve always been something of a homebody. The thought of leaving the familiarity and security of home has often brought me tremendous anxiety. And yet, lately, I feel this growing desire to meet people, hear their stories, understand their beliefs, and experience perspectives that are different from my own.

It’s not because I’m looking for people to confirm what I currently believe (tbh, I don’t know what I believe right now and it’s kind of scary), or because I want to “excuse sin” (lol) but because I genuinely want to understand how other people experience life, meaning, faith, and purpose.

I am learning to allow myself to be curious without feeling responsible for arriving at a particular conclusion.

For so much of my life, I felt that the answers to life’s biggest questions had already been given to me. Now, for perhaps the first time, I’m allowing myself to ask those questions without knowing where they’ll lead… Exciting, but it’s also terrifying. Tragic, yet beautiful.

I’m sharing this because I’m curious whether anyone else has revisited their patriarchal blessing, or other religious experiences from their childhood, and found themselves interpreting them differently after beginning to question their faith. Have any of you recognized connections between the religious expectations you grew up with and the anxiety you experienced as a child? And if so, how have you navigated the process of separating who you were taught you needed to become from who you (or God) actually want(s) (you) to be?

I’m not necessarily looking for reassurance that my current perspective is correct. I’d very much appreciated hearing how others have made sense of similar experiences.

Torn Day Book Club - Index & Reference

Reading date: Wednesday, October 21, 2026
Begin: “An Important Pause on Key-Issue Depth”
Stop BEFORE: Chapter 2, “When Belief Is Torn,” beginning at page 61
Navigation: Approximately footer page 50 to before 61; follow the headings.

Today finishes Chapter 1, including its takeaway, reflection questions, and application suggestion. Chapter 2 begins on Day 5.

Brief synopsis

Strong acknowledges that this book won’t examine every historical, doctrinal, or ethical issue in depth. His focus is increasingly on the culture surrounding those concerns.

He presents evidence that disaffiliation is accelerating, while explicitly cautioning that recent leavers may have been more likely to take his survey, potentially overstating the acceleration. He also discusses changing Church demographics. Keep the populations straight: the survey’s breakdown of respondents’ current beliefs describes those respondents, not the broader Church population.

The chapter then turns from numbers to people: strained relationships, broken trust, spiritual depletion, and the different beliefs and sources of meaning people find afterward. Strong reports that many who leave are at peace with their decision. Departure doesn’t mean everyone ends up believing the same thing, or wanting to return.

Strong closes by arguing for cultural renewal: a community where people can question and bring their whole selves. That’s his proposed response, and we can examine how well it addresses the concerns he describes. His closing exercise asks readers to understand someone’s experience without immediately correcting, defending, or reframing it.

Discussion questions

1. Which assumptions about why people leave does this chapter challenge, reinforce, or leave unresolved?
2. How well does Strong’s cultural-renewal argument address the concerns presented throughout Chapter 1?
3. What might listening without correcting reveal that explanations of disaffiliation miss?

We’re picking up the pace, but I want to get a feel for it before committing to a revised day count. Were yesterday’s and today’s readings too much, about right, or still too short?

I study ancient scriptures and find astronomical/astrological references.

To oversimplify it:

Sun = Good

Moon = Bad

A few examples in the Bible: Psalm 84:11 - "God is a sun" or Malachi 4:2 - "the Sun of Righteousness"; Jesus is the "light of the world" and considered a "risen" savior.

Meanwhile, Jericho, which means “City of the Moon” and gets destroyed by the Israelites. Abram leaves his birthplace, the Ur of the Chaldees, because their primary god of worship was Sin - a moon god. Matthew 17:15, a man comes to Jesus for a miracle because his son is “lunatick”. The original Greek word used was seléniazomai, which means moon-struck. We still call people “lunatics” to this day, which is to say they are under the influence of the moon.

I am learning about more words that have been associated with the moon over the millennia and came across a character we’re likely all familiar with if you've read the BoM. His name means “bright, white, shining one, the moon” and he is definitely a bad guy. One of the Hebrew names for moon is Lebanah (see Song of Solomon 6:10, for example).

Here’s a clue: Nephi cuts his head off.

Who is he?

When men return from a city bearing promises rather than goods, the road feels longer.

We departed Jerusalem with Ishmael’s household under our guidance, the gates closing behind us with a finality that offered no accommodation for reconsideration. The city resumed itself at once—lamps lit, voices raised, doors barred against night—as though our errand had been nothing more than an adjustment to its margins.

The company was larger now, and therefore more delicate. For a single household may quarrel and yet remain one body, but two households joined together resemble less a body than an agreement—one that must be renewed by tolerance, fatigue, and the absence of better options.

The road did its work quickly. Feet blistered. Water thinned. The sun gave instruction with its usual lack of pastoral concern. Consent spoken in a courtyard became another thing when carried across stony ground.

Ishmael, who had agreed in the city with a gravity we had respected, did not bear the road as his sons did. He sat down sooner when shade could be found. His daughters adjusted themselves around him without discussion. His wife watched him with the attention of one already counting what must soon be carried differently.

At first no one named this. Men do not easily narrate decline while they still hope to outwalk it. Water was offered. Pace was shortened for an hour, then recovered. Encouragement was given in that brisk tone by which the healthy try, without malice, to lend their strength to the failing.

It did not suffice. By the third day his breathing had shortened. By evening he no longer rose without help. The company stopped because it had to. Water was brought too late to matter much. He spoke once to his wife, once to one of his daughters, and afterward only with his eyes.

When Ishmael died, there was no violence in it. Only interruption. The women made the sounds women make when the future alters faster than language can receive it. His sons stood about him with the stunned uselessness of men whose strength has not been asked in the right form. And because we were in the wilderness and not among our fathers, there was no ancestral place prepared for him—only ground, tools, urgency, and the question of how long grief would be permitted to occupy the road.

We buried him there as decently as motion allowed. Stones were gathered. Earth was moved. His daughters looked on with the fixed attention of those trying to remember a place they know they will not see again. His wife asked no impossible thing. She did not ask for Jerusalem restored. She asked, only once, why obedience had brought her husband to die far from his kindred.

After this, the wish to return ceased to be impatience and became grief with direction.

Voices rose among Ishmael’s people—at first broken by mourning, then sharpened by fatigue.

“Let us return,” they said. “Our father is buried in a strange place.”

“Why should his daughters go farther from all that knew them?”

“Why should we follow further on the strength of another man’s vision, now that the man who consented for our household is gone?”

These were not wicked questions. They were human ones. We heard them. We answered some of them. And in our own weariness we judged their wish to return neither wicked nor surprising.

Then Nephi turned and rebuked us, not merely our proposal but our character. He spoke of hardness, of faithlessness, of ease desired over obedience. He spoke as though grief itself were in danger of becoming rebellion if indulged too long.

This last was insufferable. For there is no faster way to turn a weary man dangerous than to tell him his exhaustion is a sin, nor a mourning household disorderly because it cannot yet proceed in a proper spirit.

Wherefore we took him and bound him—not in calmness, but in that blind moment when argument has failed and bodies must speak.

We wished, at the least, to stop his speech and the movement of the company until morning gave everyone back a little proportion.

And Nephi, being bound, prayed.

And the cords were loosed.

Not by our hands.

Not by our repentance.

They were loosed as though the universe itself had rendered a verdict, having first declined to hear testimony.

Now when a miracle occurs in the midst of a quarrel, the quarrel doth not end there. Only its proportions change.

Some among Ishmael’s household cried out in fear. Some in reverence. Some said nothing, which is often the safest passage through wonder.

And then the daughters of Ishmael—those least consulted and most affected—did the remarkable thing.

They pleaded with us.

“Enough,” they said. “We are already leaving one world. Must we also leave each other?”

And we heard them.

Wherefore we softened.

And Nephi forgave.

Readily.

Thus ended that passage of the journey: with a grave behind us, cords loosed, authority confirmed, and a family’s mourning entered into the record under the heading of obedience.

New and Improved Index format! Reading Schedule & Discussion Index

Reading date: Tuesday, October 20, 2026

Begin: “Wave I—Lifestyle Dissonance”

Stop BEFORE: “An Important Pause on Key-Issue Depth”

Approximate Kindle pages: 40–50. Follow the headings, including all four infographics and “An Integrative Perspective of All Four Waves.”

Pace update: Today combines the originally planned Days 3 and 4 so we can discuss all four waves together. Yesterday’s reading felt too short to me; let me know if today feels like too much. I’ll likely adjust the pacing guidance in the index to account for infographics and how much text is actually on each page.

Brief synopsis

Strong develops four overlapping pressures behind departure:

• Lifestyle dissonance: Church demands become unsustainable through burnout, control, guilt, or strain on mental health.

• Church history and truth claims: Historical and doctrinal conflicts unsettle belief, while incomplete or misleading accounts undermine institutional trust.

• Church social positions and moral conflict: Supporting the Church clashes with conscience, particularly around perceived harm, LGBTQ+ treatment, finances, racism, gender, and abuse.

• Church experience and spiritual depletion: Participation stops providing spiritual nourishment or belonging, with institutional demands overshadowing the Christ-centered experience people seek.

Strong presents these as interacting pressures, not mutually exclusive personal journeys. One concern can intensify another, and multiple pressures can converge before someone leaves. He argues that Church culture strongly influences what happens when those concerns arise.

There’s a lot here to unpack. The framework gives us language for different concerns, but I’m interested in where it helps explain them and where it might flatten important differences.

Discussion questions

1. What does Strong’s four-wave framework clarify, and what does it leave out?

2. Where do these categories overlap, and where do their differences matter?

3. Which concerns could cultural change address, and which would require changes to teachings or policies?

Answer whichever interests you, or bring your own questions. If you’re comfortable, share how these waves fit, or don’t fit, your experience or what you’ve observed with loved ones.

is there anyway to report a stake president through email? we really had enough. we had 2 weddings already that almost god called off because of delay processing and no sense of urgency. the most important wedding is the sealing and we cannot schedule due to delay of updates on the LCR. we really are stressed enough to deal with this

My dad is one of the most stressed people I know and has been as long as I can remember. He has a demanding job and keeps getting big callings that add another 20 hours to his weeks. A couple years ago, he got called to be stake executive secretary. He’s clearly just keeping his head above water with all the demands on his time and keeps talking about how he has 8 more years of his calling left. I cannot believe we let men stew in these intense callings for up to ten years with no kind of compensation.

I’m still traumatized by his 8 years as bishop when I was a teenager. I haven’t known my dad to be really happy and relaxed except a few odd vacations here and there since I was a kid. It’s so sad to see. When I asked if he should ask to be released, he told me he enjoys it and he’s close to the men he gets to work with. So I get keeping it. But I wish it weren’t a defacto 9-10 year sentence. I’m worried he’s going to finally get to retirement in two years and get really ill from so many years of stress.

I wish the church didn’t do this. It’s too much time. It’s too much responsibility. It’s too much isolation from family. They need to emphasize that it’s ok to prioritize your mental health, stop making stake presidency and other callings a decade of your life, and stop calling the same men to the same kinds of high profile callings. Imagine how easy it would be to fill callings if, I don’t know, women weren’t automatically excluded from most of them.

I’m tired.