After my mission, I attended law school. Every year in law school, I attended various temple ceremonies in various temples, visited Mormon tourist attractions in Illinois and New York, and were very active in the Mormon Church. I served in the Bishopric and the Elder’s Quorum Presidency.
In 1989, I went to the birthplace of Mormonism- Palmyra, New York. I went during a time that the yearly outdoor drama about the Mormon Church was being presented on a hillside each night. I was amazed at the number of anti-Mormons in attendance. One afternoon, I approached a table of these anti-Mormons. We got into a spirited debate. Though I handled myself well, I decided I needed to become a “smarter” Mormon. I vowed that when returned home, I would read every Mormon book I could get my hands on. Big mistake. The more I read, the more I realized that I did not believe what Mormons really believe. I did not believe in the plurality of gods. I did not believe that I was going to be a god and have many wives in heaven. I did not believe many of the things I discovered that Mormons believe. I contacted my bishop and informed him I was going to become an inactive member. I started getting harassing phone calls and visits from Mormons telling me I was going to hell for committing the unforgivable sin of renouncing the Spirit. I was harassed at work, at home, even in the grocery store at all hours of the day and night.
Then, one night, we let some friends baby-sit my son (3) and my daughter (2 months) while my wife and I had a quiet evening. Our friends were Mormon, but I trusted them. The phone rang. A family in Idahocalled my wife. I got on the extension (unbeknownst to them). They told my wife, who did not understand English very well, that there were three plane tickets waiting for them at the Detroit airport. She could either come with the kids or stay with me. If she did not come with the kids, she would never see them again. We raced down to where our “friends” were babysitting. They refused to let me in to the kids. A scuffle occurred. My “friend” was injured. The police were called. He tried to have me arrested for assault. I was working, at that time, during the day and going to law school at night. My boss was the Chief Judge (I was his bailiff/law clerk). I was not arrested. I was asked if I wanted to press charges for attempted kidnapping, but I refused. I did not want to spend the next many years looking over my shoulder.
Soon after, I received a letter from my bishop saying I was ordered to attend an excommunication hearing that would decide if I should be excommunicated. One of the charges was speaking against the Mormon Church to my wife in my own home. I replied with a letter stating that attendance to their hearing would indicate that they some sort of authority over me. They didn’t. I did not attend, but was informed by letter later that I had been excommunicated.
I began to attend various churches looking for “home”. Soon after the kidnapping incident, I passed the bar exam and was commissioned as an officer into the Army. I was stationed in Panama where we attended a non denominational chapel for military personnel. An interesting story here: I write poetry and songs, many of my songs are religious. I also sing. One Sunday night soon after joining this chapel in Panama, I was asked to sing one of my songs at the service. After singing my song, the pastor stood up and asked me my name. I told him my name. He asked me if I had ever lived in Honduras. I said yes. I had been a missionary and had taught school. He said, “You may not remember, but one night, there was a party for embassy personnel. You attended that party.” I told him I remembered that party. He continued. “At that party, you sang and played the guitar. After you left, I told one of the teachers from your school who was also at the party that I was a pastor at a church there in Honduras and I wanted to get you involved with my youth group and to sing at church. Your friend told me to forget it. He said that, number 1, you were Mormon, number 2, you were headed back to the United States to go to law school. I was very sad about you being Mormon, so I prayed for you every night for several months. Now here you are.” I became his youth director and was a soloist in his church. God REALLY works in mysterious ways.
Another interesting note: There used to be a U.S. Military presence in Honduras. There was ONE attorney position at that station, and it was a 6-month position. I was able to be assigned there after my duty in Panama and was able to stay for a year. That gave me time to visit all the areas I had worked as a missionary and talk to as many of the people I had baptized as I could to apologize for leading them astray. Again, God works in mysterious ways.
In Honduras, and my following duty stations in Oklahoma and Killeen, Texas, I attended post chapels and non-denominational churches. After I left the military , we moved to Texas. I tried several churches, including the Baptist Church, looking for “home”. Nothing ever felt right.
But I could not find “home”.
And my life went sour. I was terribly unhappy. I divorced my wife of 15 years, hated my job, and could not find “home”. I later remarried her, mostly for our kids, and, predictably, redivorced her. No matter how much I searched or how many churches I attended. No place ever felt “right”.
Then came another horrible blow. My grandfather died. My grandfather was my hero. When we left my dad in 1965, he became my father-figure. He was everything to me. He was the man I had to please. He was also a very devout Catholic.
Continued…
