Good morning,

My name is Michael Carr and I’m pleased to have the opportunity to share a little bit about myself this morning, to tell you who I am, where I came from, and where I’m going.

Every spiritual journey is unique and so is mine. The only moment we share is at birth, when we enter life in a moment of wonder and fear. And then, everything changes at once, and in unpredictable ways. Sometimes our paths cross, or we find a group of sympathetic souls to share our joys and our burdens, but ultimately we must forge our own path in life.

My particular path is a series of false starts, blind gropes in the dark and moments of exhilarating epiphany. I’ll tell you up front that I don’t know anything for certain and if you ask me a month from now, I might give you completely different answers. My faith has changed so radically over the years that it would be foolish to predict with any confidence where I will be five or fifty years down the road.

I was raised in Utah in a devout Mormon family. I know what you’re wondering, and yes, Melinda is my only wife. Of course, everyone but the fundamentalists gave polygamy up a hundred years ago, so I’d be out of luck anyway.

Mormon culture–especially the kind you find in Utah–is a strange mixture of mainstream Americana, Bible-belt zeal, and 1950s Father Knows Best wholesomeness. We’re a product of our history. Pioneer culture was millenialist, self-reliant, and experimented with social mores, polygamy being only the most obvious example. To this day, Mormons are proud to be considered a peculiar people and refer to themselves in ways that sound reminiscent of Old Testament Israelites. It has a lingo all its own. A Jewish professor of mine at the University of Utah once remarked wryly, “Utah is the only place where a Jew is a Gentile.”

I come from a line of Mormon pioneers and settlers unbroken since at least the mid 19th Century. Following Brigham Young’s advice, they helped make the desert blossom like a rose. Our own little piece of the blossoming desert was located in Springville, Utah. My mother’s side of the family were early settlers of the town and I grew up in a house built by my great-grandfather, working with my father in his extensive rose bushes and vegetable gardens. I have many happy memories of my childhood, of my mother carting us to swimming practices in our noisy old Pinto, of camping among the red rock of Southern Utah, and of trips with my father into the desert to search for ghost towns or fossils.

Thankfully, I was raised by parents who embraced reading and education and placed a high value in freedom of thought. In my family, it was never questioned whether Joseph Smith was a true prophet come to restore Christ’s church in these end times, but neither did we feel threatened by the learning of the outside world. I read everything I could get my hands on: Asimov, Tolkien, C.S. Lewis. I read about King Arthur and the Arabian Knights. I learned about evolution and the cosmos in my grandfather’s stack of National Geographics.

It was reading that eventually led me on my own path. Most importantly, my mind could no longer contain itself in the neat box Mormonism had constructed for it. I couldn’t reconcile human evolution with the story of Noah’s ark. I couldn’t explain why a church that teaches that all people are sons and daughters of God loathes homosexuals and prevented people of African descent from enjoying full membership until as recently as 1978. I couldn’t explain why the Book of Mormon teaches that the Native Americans are descended from a small band of Jews while the evidence supports a Siberian origin.

I tried for many years to constrain my doubts, to put them on the back burner, as some suggested, sure that they would be answered in the next world, if not in this one. And then one day I simply opened my mind to another possibility: perhaps the Mormon church was simply a human invention like any other church. Its claims to hold the only true path to God might prove completely without merit.

The only way to know for sure would be to study Mormon history with the same skeptical eye that I would study the history of the Anglican church or say, Islam. I would not be afraid of the results. If it was true, it would still look true when I was finished. If it was false, my testimony would break up and drift apart like so much rotten pack ice. My hope, to be sure, was that I would find some way to reconcile reason and faith.

And so I studied church history, hoping for answers, but only found more questions. It was clear not only that its history was filled with disquieting details, but that the church had–and continues to–systematically suppress those details that do not support its carefully polished image. I will spare you the details; they are interesting mainly to Mormon apologists and apostates. The end result, however, was that I found myself determined to forge a different path. Thankfully, Melinda’s own journey, while independent of mine, has closely paralleled my own. I suppose that my earlier statement is not quite accurate. I do not, in fact, walk this path alone, but with her support.

Alas, beyond my wife, I quickly learned the limits of open-mindedness among my family. My parents and siblings alike still hold strongly to their beliefs, as well as feel a duty to those pioneer ancestors who sacrificed so much to cross the plains, sustained by little more than faith. Unfortunately, my choice to leave the church has caused a good deal of pain to those I love. They do not agree with my decision, and do not believe that I will ultimately be happy outside of the Mormon faith. In the end, thankfully, they continue to support me as a son and brother, even though we will never again agree on the ultimate questions of the Universe: where we come from, where we are going, and why we are here.

So what do I believe now? To be honest, I’ve struggled to articulate my positive beliefs. It’s easier to say what I don’t believe, perhaps because my beliefs are in a continuous state of flux. But there are some things that I can state with some certainty.

I believe in the worth of all humans. I marvel at the Universe and rejoice in the beauty of this Earth. I would classify myself (today, at least) as an agnostic theist. I think it likely that there is some higher being responsible for creating at least part of this universe. I do not think it’s provable, however, and think it unlikely that this being intervenes directly in our lives.

I’m slightly less optimistic about life after death, but am hopeful that my consciousness can continue in some way when I die. I can’t imagine myself growing tired of living and learning.

Most important among my beliefs, I find that I am strengthened spiritually when I am among a sympathetic community to share my faith, hopes, fears, and doubts. In my search for a new spiritual home, I have been delighted to discover this church. The U.U. faith presents a sharp contrast to its Mormon counterpart. To a Mormon, faith and obedience are paramount. U.U.s, on the other hand, distrust authority, and celebrate human learning. They are a group of fellow seekers who provide support without demanding conformity.

Mormons believe that God has chosen them above all others, to share His message with the world. Others may have bits of the truth, but their faith will be incomplete until they join God’s church. U.U.s look for new truth in every idea they encounter, taking for themselves that which they see as good and true.

There are many other differences, as well as a number of similarities, but most importantly, I have moved from a church that claimed all the answers to one that claims none of them. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thank you.