This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
Editor's note • Robert Kirby is in Canada. This is a reprint of an earlier column.
I touched a pulse. Or maybe it was a nerve. Anyway, the column about loved ones leaving the family faith generated a lot of response. The mail is still coming in: "If my parents had read this when I left the church, we would still have a relationship today." — S.A., email.
"There are sooooo many people I would love to give this to. Not only does it pertain to religion but life in general," — D.T., email.
"Obviously, my parents' church was more important to them than I was." — anonymous, Salt Lake City.
"My mother never got over the fact that I didn't go on a mission. We wasted all that time because she just wouldn't let it go." — A.N., email.
"I am sending this [column] to every one of my Baptist relatives." — R.Y., Provo.
Understandably, most of the positive feedback came from those doing the departing. It's easy to be pleased with someone you think is taking your side in an argument.
But there were other, less cheery responses from those who waved goodbye.
"It is still hard to have a good relationship with [our daughter] because of the constant insulting things she says about that which we hold sacred." — S.F., Salt Lake City.
"When my daughter got married in the temple my husband and I could not attend because she said non-Mormons weren't considered worthy." — anonymous, Salt Lake City.
"[...] refuse to let us see our grandchildren because they don't want them to have anything to do with the [LDS] Church." — anonymous, email.
The reasons for leaving a particular faith are far more varied and complicated than we have space for here. I would like to address the most common element, specifically that of anger. This anger exists on a variety of levels, from a realization that you were not told the truth, to feeling cheated, controlled and even abused. The anger may be natural, but it is still a problem.
Assuming that a decision to leave a faith is a legitimate one, there is still the issue of how to articulate it to those you love. Anger is not a great communication tool.
William Rounseville Alger knew what he was talking about when he wrote that people often make up in wrath what they lack in reason. It's possible to be so angry that you come to regard a serious personality problem as a virtue.
In the previous column, I suggested that parents who wish to maintain a good relationship with their prodigal progeny would at some point have to shut up about it. That was tough for some parents to take.
Well, it's good advice for those doing the departing as well. Granted, it may be tough to do. Nobody likes being pecked at by controlling family members.
And nobody likes being sniped at by someone who confuses rage for reason. How ironic is it to demand respect for your decision to leave from people you refuse to respect for staying?
In the end, whatever truth you think you have found matters far less than how you use it. If your newfound path is just another way of prosecuting a pre-existing family fight, you're no closer to happiness than you were before you left.
One of the brightest comments I received came from a man who said his staunch Episcopalian grandparents loved him so much that they contributed money to his LDS mission.
That's the kind of family I want — one that religion can't tear apart.
Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley