Sitting in stunned silence, as I approach the end of Good Friday, I contemplate my beloved Savior suffering and dying on a Cross. My king. My god. My friend.
We Mormons don’t celebrate the Cross. We don’t feature it on our buildings. We don’t recognize Good Friday; but we occasionally celebrate Easter, provided it doesn’t land on the first Sunday in April so as to conflict with our General Conference.
We have our priorities.
But the Cross.
Toward the end of my mission I somehow contracted typhoid fever, and taken to a catholic hospital, there was a Cross adjacent to my bed. As I was in the convulsions of extreme fever, the last thing I wanted to see was an idol depicting a dying Christ, so I demanded in my young arrogance that it be removed. The sisters (nuns) did so, but I’m pretty sure I offended them greatly.
I deeply regret that insensitivity on my part.
But the Cross.
What is it about the Cross that bothered me? When Mormons have been asked why we don’t have the symbol of the Cross, we claim we worship the Living Christ. We reject the Cross as an Idol, and follow the commandment that we should not worship idols.
In its place, we worship the Christ who stands at the head of our Church, who reveals his will to Prophets, Seers, and Revelators. We revere Christ’s words revealed by our leaders, and cherish them as if Christ himself spoke them from the Conference Center.
We have vested in our leaders the idea that they speak the very word and will of the Lord. They, too, are careful to cultivate this sentiment, with our songs of Praise to the Man, We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet, and Follow the Prophet. Our scriptures demand us to accept that the words of our prophets are the same as if the Lord himself spoke the words. “Whether by my own voice or the voice of my servants, it is the same”.
And in creating this culture of leadership infallibility, we have replaced the idol of the Cross with the idolatry of leader worship.
And our Mormon leadership idolatry is leading us astray. Deeply astray. We have expectations that these men do not engage in gross sin, and yet, when we see leaders in high places fall — and they always will — we lose our “faith” in the church because our expectations of infallibility are dashed.
But to put all the burden of this sin of idolatry on myself, I sense I am blaming the victim. My church has cultivated a culture of leadership idolatry from the very first day the Church was organized. By investing into extraordinary claims of authority, our church leaders from the very first days of our church have covered up any human failings that might call into question these claims. Whether it be the origins of the Book of Mormon, the Book of Abraham, the Kirtland Anti-Banking Society, the 1838 Mormon War, the emergence of polygamy, the end of polygamy, blacks and the priesthood, the Hoffman case, church finances, the September Six, the provenance of the Family Proclamation, the Policy of Exclusion, or the recent events we have seen this month — the pattern is the same. In an effort to preserve “faith” in our Mormon leaders, the Church actively covers up that which might call into question prophetic infallibility.
I don’t blame them. I understand the behavior, and find myself guilty of the same — too often.
So what do I do?
I return to the Cross.
I stand before the Cross, and wonder. What needs to die in me in order for me to live? How can I reconcile my *faith* when the anchor of my belief has been shaken to the core?
Something has to die. My True Believing Mormon identity — the one that placed *faith* in the leaders as if they were Christ. The one that looked to my Prophets Seers and Revelators as my “idols”. This self has to die.
So today, this Good Friday, I raise my Idolatrous Mormon self on the Cross.
My Idolatrous Self who relies on the arm of flesh to tell me what to do — I raise him on the Cross.
My Idolatrous Self who assumes that every word coming from my leaders is the Word of God — I raise him on the Cross.
My Idolatrous Self who thinks that leaders cannot lead us astray — I raise him on the Cross.
My Idolatrous Self who vaunts my status as a Mormon places me above the world — I raise him on the Cross.
My Idolatrous Self who believes that my Priesthood gives me privilege — I raise him on the Cross.
My Idolatrous Self that in any way allows or condones abuse of others, either in worthiness interviews or any other means — I raise him on the Cross.
My Idolatrous Self that covers my sins, gratifies my pride and vain ambition, and exercises control, dominion, and compulsion over others — I raise him on the Cross.
And as I raise my idolatrous self on the Cross, I know, in my heart, that there is One beside me. My idolatrous self is a liar, a thief or a robber of my true self — I am not worthy to be on this Cross, but I am here, and I suffer, as my Mormon Idolatry dies.
And I hear a voice. A still, small, voice. “I forgive you — you knew not what you did,” and “This day you will be with me in Paradise.”
And a new Self is born, freed from my idolatry. I drink the living waters wherever they may be, even at the Waters of Mormon or anywhere I may wander, and I find new Life, new Truth, the Way that leads ever onward.
Here. On the Cross.
It is finished.