Gordon Monson: I’m not as good a Latter-day Saint as the outwardly devout. Or am I?

A good friend of mine, now sitting in his personal religiosity somewhere between agnosticism and atheism, who was raised in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints but upon further review no longer is a believer, informed me recently that he has family members who are “better Mormons” than I am.

Initially, I had no issue with his determination. I’m a sinner, after all, a dude just stumbling and bumbling his way through this existence, trying to treat others well, trying to be a good husband, father and friend, trying to honor God, trying to live an honest life. But, later, as I reflected on that conversation, I wondered, what makes one Latter-day Saint better than another? For that matter, what makes any person of faith better than another? What makes any human, beyond basic decency, better than another?

The basis for my friend’s judgment was founded on his measure of the strict orthodoxy of his specified family members versus the perceived lesser version of my own. They went to church nearly every Sunday. So do I. They observed the church’s health code, the Word of Wisdom. So do I. They filled church callings. So do I. They pray. So do I. They were somewhat intolerant of what they considered “wayward” behavior. Um. They considered every word spoken by every top church leader as straight from the mouth of God. Um. They never asked questions about gospel policy or doctrine, not even as a means to greater understanding, preferring to accept it and embrace it all literally, completely, without further introspection or interpretation or investigation. Um. Um. Um.

Guilty as charged? Maybe, maybe not.

He said, “Yeah, yeah, you’re a believer. You’re doing what you can, but …”

There’s always a but.

“You speak your mind,” he said. “You ask difficult questions, sometimes finding unsatisfactory answers, and you’re not afraid to talk about those issues or write about them. You don’t expect me to believe the way you do, or treat me differently because I don’t. And I’ve heard you swear after a shanked drive on the golf course.”

The temple test

At about the same time, another friend, also a nonbeliever, informed me that, despite my flaws, if every “Mormon” treated him and his family with the same honor and respect and kindness with which I treated them, he might consider once again darkening the door of a Latter-day Saint chapel. He said too often he felt judged by churchgoers.

That’s sometimes a problem in the church because fervid followers attend Sunday meetings and are preached at, week after week, about the faith’s version of ever more righteous, sanctioned living. And that standard is then consciously or subconsciously applied by believers to everyone around them.

Another point could be traced to the fact that church members and their levels of worthiness are regularly sized up by their ecclesiastical leaders in standard priesthood and temple interviews in which questions are asked about certain beliefs and behaviors. If the interviewees check all the boxes, they are given a stamp of approval that allows them to fill certain church positions and/or perform temple rituals.

Without the checked boxes, approval is or might be denied.

The worthy are in, the unworthy are or might be left out.

My first friend’s family members have never been denied. Neither have I — so far.

The last time I went to a temple (for a relative’s marriage ceremony) the man at the front desk looked at my temple recommend, which permits entry, read my name, looked up at my face, looked back at the recommend, and then muttered, “How did you manage to get in here?”

I said: “I lied.”

The white-suited gatekeeper broke into a grin, patted my hand, asked how I thought the Jazz would do, then let me in straightaway.

Compassionate old guy.

Who’s to judge?

Measuring human faithfulness and worthiness — who’s a “good Mormon” or a “better Mormon” — can be tricky. Answers to stock questions, allegiances to orthodoxy, don’t always tell the whole story. I’ve known members who have qualified for temple worship whom I might not trust to watch my dog for a weekend. And I’ve known people who wouldn’t qualify to whom I might trust my life.

Because certain people who are so faithful in many areas, but perhaps lacking in another, are somehow judged as unworthy can be a source of frustration.

I’d prefer to leave that judgment between God and the individual. But that’s probably one reason why my friend figured me to be a “worse Mormon” than some of his more orthodox family members. When it comes to being good with God, in matters of worthiness and righteousness, all of that can be complicated.

There are 16 questions in a temple recommend interview. They range from asking about faith and belief in God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost, Jesus’ Atonement and the restoration of Jesus’ gospel to sustaining the president of the church, striving for moral cleanliness, striving to keep the Sabbath holy, to attend church meetings, to be honest, to pay tithing, to obey the Word of Wisdom, to wear temple garments.

But what if members are the most ardent followers of Christ? If they perform 40 hours of volunteer work every week, benefiting the poor, feeding the hungry and clothing the naked? If they treat family, friends and strangers with kindness, yet drink coffee at times or skip six months of meetings, what then? Should those “slips” or choices cancel out all the good?

Point is, every bit of obedience or sacrifice or faithfulness has a depth of its own, and some are much deeper than others, beyond appearances. Some are relatively shallow. Some are more important than others, requiring enormous faith. If those are mastered to a greater degree, despite other imperfections, should that be taken into account when evaluating worthiness?

On the other hand, followers are shallow in many areas, doing the bare minimum, going through the motions, but stay orthodox, or at least appear to be, does that make them “better Mormons” or more righteous ones?

Complicated? It’s far past that.

All humans can and, in some cases, should be judged by their fundamental honesty, their decency and their adequacy.

When it comes to measuring the breadth and depth of faith and religion, though, discerning who is more or less righteous, who is more or less faithful, who is more or less worthy, who is “better” and who is “worse,” might be best left to the greatest of all, to the one in the heavens above, not to my good friend or to any of us in our limited human condition.

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