29 Comment(s)

1. I am a somewhat “orthodox” member, but yet I would not claim I “know” there is an afterlife. However, I do believe in one and I surely hope there is. Your “carpe diem” attitude stemming from the lack of belief in an afterlife is very interesting to me. While I’m sure my belief is somewhat of a crutch at times to get me through tough moments, thinking that there may be no afterlife completely destroys my sense of purpose. And I have thoughtdeeply of that possibility many times. I just can’t be motivated to do anything–good or bad or otherwise–without some sense of ‘eternal’ purpose or meaning. It’s not that I’m always thinking of eternal things with everything I do, but if that hope or belief is not there, I suppose I would become a Buddhist—ridding myself of all attachments because it is all ephemeral, and all attachments bring suffering. Unless, of course, some attachments do not end.

   Comment # 1 by adam | Jun 10, 2007 | Reply

2. I’m with you. When I was focused on eternal blessings in the afterlife, my life here seemed pale and tiresome, something to suffer through. When I took my eyes off that far distant chimeric future, the present moment came into sharp, saturated focus. I felt new life and new joy in the only life I was certain to have. I endeavor to make my heaven here on earth.

   I recently posted some thoughts about death.

   Comment # 2 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 10, 2007 | Reply

3. The standard culture wars dichotomy seems to be religious person saying “I have peace because I know I’m ok in the next life” versus non-believer in an afterlife saying “This life is all I’ve got so I value it more” with the degree of snideness or lack thereof toward the other side seeming to me a function of the personality of the holder of the belief. In some ways perhaps this is an ancient philosophical battle between cult of death cultures like ancient Egypt and hedonistic live-for-the-day cultures such as stereotypical Greek city states (though one could hardly say a place like Sparta fit the Greek stereotype). Or perhaps that’s just the cultural vision that’s presented to us when really it’s just a battle between absolute authoritarians (Egyptian Pharaohs/Modern dictator and fascists) and wealthy oligarchs (Greek city fathers manipulating poor peasants and slaves/modern robber barons and multinational corporations and media moguls) trying to convince us there’s a bigger battle than their personal power struggles

   For me personally (and yes, clearly I’m taking a side here but please believe when I say I can see the sincerity that would lead others to their beliefs including in my above-mentioned stereotypes), I greatly value what I believe to be a beautiful and meaningful middle ground that Mormonism occupies. Not to say that all members perceive it this way, but my view of it is that I have an eternal existence stretching backwards and forwards in which this life is absolutely crucial. The parable of the talents with it’s moral of going for it with what you’re given now and not retreating into a shell of fear is rich with meaning for me. If you don’t make the most with what you’ve got now, you don’t get anything in the next life. So I see it as critical to seize the day in this life, but in a way which pushes forward my eternal progression. Yes, the separation of death is temporary, but that’s conditional too on me doing right in the here and now - not just the ordinance checklist (as important as that may be) but using and growing the talents and resources God has given me because this is the proving grounds for bigger things to come.

   Comment # 3 by Non-Arab Arab | Jun 10, 2007 | Reply

4. adam,

   I won’t try to invalidate your personal experience with contemplating a life with no afterlife. For me, once I lost my belief in an afterlife, I was forced to come to terms with it. I don’t know how much of a choice I had in the matter. Wishful thinking didn’t bring me to this place.

   There is an element of futility in this viewpoint. Our lives mean very little in the big picture. I will only live for a very brief moment on an unimaginably tiny speck of rock in the middle of an incomprehensibly vast, empty, lifeless universe. Chances are that life won’t continue forever. All life will probably become extinct at some point in the future. All our efforts are vanity.

   I’ve stared straight into that pit of darkness, but to keep my sanity and find happiness, I am forced to focus on the present moment. The despair you mentioned at facing this possibility is exactly what leads to the carpe diem attitude. The briefness and fragility of this life is exactly what makes this present moment so precious. The carpe diem attitude is what happens when you push through to the other side of the despair.

   I think of the despair like trying to find the energy to do housework. We know that even if we do the dishes tonight, they’re going to be dirty again tomorrow. All our work is going to be undone. There is no hope of ever being permanently finished with the dishes. So why do the dishes? I wash dishes because I enjoy eating off clean plates with clean utensils. My present enjoyment depends on me being mindful of the present moment and not allowing the futility of my efforts in the long term to defeat my happiness now.

   Comment # 4 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 11, 2007 | Reply

5. A quick vote:

   I almost died once — for 30 minutes I thought I was a gonner (I was washed out to sea). The whole time I had great confidence that there was an afterlife. But, instead of thinking about that the whole time, I thought about how much I loved and would dearly miss earth-life.

   Before that, and since then I have never felt that my awareness of an afterlife has diminished my absorbtion of the great things in this life. I do think this life is a time of mortal probation, but I still think it is utterly unique in my eternal experience. I value it more knowing that I will be able to remember each day. (think “Our Town,” the play by Oscar Wilde*)

   Anyway, I don’t think I am the minority of beleivers who feel this way. Don’t know.

   * “Our Town” was not written by Oscar Wilde, but I thought it would be funny to say that it was, then drop an explanatory footnote.

   Comment # 5 by anon | Jun 11, 2007 | Reply

6. How interesting that this topic should come up, since the Sunday School lesson I taught my 12- and 13-year-olds yesterday was on Joseph F. Smith’s vision of the redemption of the dead and I have been thinking of this topic quite a lot this past week. I think I agree most with Non-Arab Arab and adam in that I don’t know that there is an afterlife, but I hope that there is one, and I have had experiences that lead me to believe that whether or not the LDS concept is correct, our essences or spirits, if you will, go on. As I answered the many, many questions my Sunday School kids had yesterday (ranging from “What happens to babies who are aborted?” to “Are there really zombies?”), I relied on Alma’s description of the spirit world where we go between death and resurrection and President Smith’s description of his vision as well as my own understanding, gleaned from the scriptures and my knowledge of Church policy (I think every member should have the opportunity to read the Handbook of Instructions) and what I hope is the prompting of the Holy Ghost in answer to prayer on this subject. I realized as I talked with my class that my belief that there is a space between death and resurrection is somewhat more meaningful to me than my belief in resurrection and eternal life in whatever state we will be in. Like Non-Arab Arab, I also believe that our state in the afterlife is greatly dependent on what we do here in our mortal lives, and I think that that sometimes prods me to live better and act in a way that will make me a better and more Christ-like person. However, I realize that most people, including me, will not come close to being sinless in this life for a lot of reasons, be it fear, laziness, mental illness, life circumstances, ability to comprehend and understand the gospel, etc. That’s why I am grateful that God in His mercy allows us a time to be free of our bodies and our temporal circumstances to continue to repent and progress to a degree. It’s kind of frightening at the same time, though, because I feel that I have an understanding that many people do not have because of my knowledge of the gospel (which I hope and believe is true), and that makes me more responsible and thus less likely to get much leeway in the hereafter for the wickedness that I do indulge in. Mostly, though, my belief in a life after this one makes me want to be a better person now.

   I’m not sure whether I would be a nihilist or an existentialist if I had no belief in an afterlife. I think I would tend more toward existentialism, but that may be because I am more mature - nihilism was very appealing when I was a teenager and thought it meant that I could do anything if I just didn’t believe. I could never quite get to the “didn’t believe” part, though. I don’t know whether that was because I had such a strong testimony (yeah, right) or because I feared Authority (more likely). As I’ve become more mature (at least that’s what I hope it is), I think my belief in an afterlife and what will happen there has become less reward-and-punishment-oriented and more geared toward what I think President Smith’s vision indicates, which is that the afterlife is a state of being in which we will become more fully ourselves, without the worldy and physical problems that afflict us here, and where our true desires, whether for good or evil, can be manifested and we can live according to what we really want.

   Comment # 6 by Villate | Jun 11, 2007 | Reply

7. Jana,

   Thanks for your thoughtful and honest comments! Your feelilngs and reflections on the afterlife very much mirror my own. I am truly agnostic when it comes to the afterlife - I do not know and believe that we cannot know. I have ceased to worry about it or think about it. I find little use in thinking about the afterlife when the only life I know I have for sure is right here and right now.

   I have found that the same thing has happened to me - the present has become more alive, more relevant, more pressing, and more important. I soak in every moment and every experience. Thinking about eternal punishment, bliss, salvation, exaltation, or whatever is beside the point and does me no good. I strive to be the best I can be right now, to live life fully.

   I do believe that beliefs on the afterlife have a tremendous impact on one’s life in many other ways. I believe that peoples’ attitudes on the afterlife effect their attitudes toward environmentalism, economic and social justice, and numerous moral concerns. Wouldn’t you agree?

   Comment # 7 by Guido | Jun 11, 2007 | Reply

8. Jonathan,

   Your thoughts on this are very interesting to me. In the past I have never really been able to understand where athiests (or whatever term you like) like yourself get your motivation. I’m beginning to understand a little more now. What I am most fascinated by here (as a soon to be grad student in counseling) is how people can be affected so differently by the same idea. For example, as Guido was saying, “people’s attitudes on the afterlife effect their attitueds toward environmentalism…” etc. They certainly affect mine. It has a lot to do with my belief in an afterlife that I feel the need to take care of the environment, and the desire to help others etc. But I suppose there are some people who feel that “well, the Second Coming is almost here, so who gives a crap about global warming or the poor,” but that’s not how it affects me.

   Comment # 8 by adam | Jun 11, 2007 | Reply

9. I always thought this life was important because of how critical it was in determining my eternal fate. I never thought this life was trivial. The difference in perspective lies in where my treasure is. Jesus said to lay up our treasure in heaven. Believing that to be a false hope, I find my treasure here and now. That makes all the difference.

   Comment # 9 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 11, 2007 | Reply

10. As I’ve met more and more people in different places and life circumstances and states of mind, I’ve come to the conclusion that personality is much more important in determining how people act in their lives than their religious beliefs. For instance, there are many devout Christians who firmly believe that Jesus has saved them and that they will go to heaven, yet they are the most selfish and morally bankrupt people imaginable, thinking that whatever they do in their mortal lives makes no difference because they are saved. On the other hand, many Christians try to emulate Christ in the way they approach other people and have a peaceful calm about them because they believe they are saved. There are many atheists who live moral, other-centered lives because they desire to make this world a better place, thinking it’s the only chance they’ll get. There are other atheists who are complete and utter hedonists, caring only about their own pleasure and wants and willing to hurt or destroy anyone around them in their pursuit of pleasure because they believe that there is nothing else but this life. LDS people have been considered overly independent, blind followers, perverts, prudes, heretics, ultra-conservative, and the ultimate Americans. Individuals within the LDS community are all of these things.

    The same range of responses can be found in any religious or social group. People who respect authority tend to respect it regardless of who or what it is. People who resist authority do so regardless of who or what it is. Atrocities have been committed in the name of nearly every group, largely because of charismatic leaders whose personalities and desires overshadow their beliefs and who can convince others to follow them rather than the tenets of the faiths they claim to represent. Amazing positive things have been accomplished the same way. I’ve met plenty of people that we referred to during my mission as “clinic burners.” If they weren’t crusading against abortion clinics, they’d be railing against Mormons or environmental degradation or Communists or Republicans. The objects of their burning hatred varied depending on their political or social views, but their burning hatred did not. Similarly, I met a few (many fewer than the clinic burners) who radiated peace and calm regardless of their religious leanings. Religious beliefs or a lack thereof may help people to control their impulses to a certain degree, but it seems to me that it’s very rare that their personalities and inner desires actually change because of their religious beliefs. I suppose that’s the miracle of true conversion, whether to Mormonism or another variant of Christianity or to any one of the vast number of belief systems that try to make people better. I can think of one person that I met as a missionary who I can say was truly converted by this definition, even though about 10 of the people I taught ended up being baptized. The others were already faithful and moral to a certain extent; the gospel I taught them only helped to answer some questions that their current beliefs could not.

    I should add that this concept is not just limited to LDS conversions. One of my best friends experienced a conversion to the Ba’hai faith - when I first met him 18 years ago, he was funny and entertaining to spend time with, but could be a mean jerk too. We had a lot of common interests, including lousy dead-end jobs in the same company, and became friends even though we saw traits in each other that we didn’t like - judgmentalism, snobbishness about certain things, cynicism in him, inability to say no, wishy-washy-ness, pessimism in me. He became a Ba’hai about nine years ago, and I have seen him become much less cynical and judgmental and much more caring and interested in others. I think he has seen similar changes in me as I have become somewhat more mature in my beliefs and attitudes. He still loves Tarantino flicks and raunchy comedy, but his overall attitude has really improved.

    Comment # 10 by Villate | Jun 11, 2007 | Reply

11. Villate,
    I agree about personality affecting how people act more than religious belief. Beliefs can certainly direct people to certain paths or decisions, but their personality is the engine behind it, IMO. I’m sure my personality affects my decisions AND my beliefs about the afterlife.

    Comment # 11 by adam | Jun 12, 2007 | Reply

12. I have to respectfully disagree with both of you. Your ideas are consistent with our culture’s emphasis on individuality and Mormonism’s emphasis on individual accountabiilty and the uniqueness of each individual. We all hesitate to acknowledge the degree to which we are influenced by our social circumstances. Yes, we are all unique individuals, and our personalities do matter. Perhaps our personalities influence which beliefs we hang our hat on the most. Perhaps our beliefs are like the tracks upon which our personalities move us in one direction or another.

    Even what we believe is largely and heavily influenced by what our parents, friends, teachers, and others believe. If you grow up in a rural Utah town you are likely to believe very different things than if you grow up in downtown Boston. I say likely - the probability is that you will.

    But beliefs do matter. Conservative Protestants tend to have certain religious beliefs, and they tend to lead them to have certain political attitudes. Same with Jewish folks, secular Americans, and others. You have to step away from the individual and his/her “personality” to see what I’m talking about. Yes, everyone is unique, but when you look at a bigger context, you see what I’m talking about.

    Comment # 12 by Guido | Jun 12, 2007 | Reply

13. I suppose in agreeing with Villate I came across only endorsing the personality model. Of course, beliefs do matter, as do one’s environment. Honestly I think they all have an effect. It depends on the person I suppose. Maybe where we differ is that I think personality makes more of a visible difference from person to person than social or religious factors. I suppose this is somewhat off-topic for the post, however, so I’ll try not to wax on. : )

    Comment # 13 by adam | Jun 13, 2007 | Reply

14. Losing any of my children would be crushing, yet how do I counsel them that “this is it”? Whether we go on after death or not has been something in Christianity that has appealed to me: it’s a wonderful idea and I hope it is true, but I doubt that it is true. Before I was born there was nothing in my awareness (a phenomenon explained away as “the veil”). Curiously, I’ve always been a little haunted at the thought of ancient Rome happening in my temporal absence–that that world, its people, were ongoing, conducting their various lives and struggles, and I had no clue of them and they had no clue of me. Not until I popped into existence some few decades ago, did the world begin to be for me, did I find out that there were Romans 2,000 years ago, etc.

    Every time I consider the question of an afterlife, I always come down on the side of Buddhists and Taoists (and to a lesser extent, rationalists and scientists) who see a continuity between the material and spiritual (emotional, psychological). The Far Eastern traditions that have held my attention are those seeking a diminishment of suffering through letting go, through learning to be at peace with oneself and the world. Thomas Merton’s Chuang-tzu taught me that: easy come, easy go. But I was also buoyed by the vision of virtue there–the “True Man” is “nobody.”

    Expectation, pride, ego, vanity, and yes, the hope for a continued identity after this life, these are things in a certain Anglicized Asian tradition that led me to “Ecclesiastes” (”all is vanity”), a favorable view of Christianity, and on to LDS flavored Christianity. Christ nailed (sorry) the paradox: In losing yourself you shall find yourself. The Church’s call to service, duty, humble obedience, and sacrifice seemed to fit that bill. (Besides I was disgusted with the political dogmatisms so prevalent on the Left in the academy, and in secular society generally, and the Church was culturally where I wanted to be, traditionalist that I am.)

    Still, human that I am, I’m scared to death of death. I don’t believe in the Church completely anymore (becoming EQ pres. made me believe even less) and I find myself slowly extricating myself from it. John Dehlin has been an inspiration in the idea that there are different ways to be Mormon. If there was such a thing as an existential Mormon, thinking of SK’s Fear and Trembling, then that is where I am currently.

    Comment # 14 by mantisdolphin | Jun 13, 2007 | Reply

15. My son was entering the mission home in 1999 at the same time that IANDS (International Association of Near Death Studies) had their conference in Salt Lake City. I figure around 400 people attended, of that number about 2/3s had had some kind of experience. One young woman spoke of being raised as an agnostic Jew. She did not believe in an after life, but was taught that one should be ethical for the hear and now. When she had her experience, having been hit by a car, and then found herself outside of her body in a spiritual existence, her first thought was, “I HATE being wrong!.”

    One of the panels thad a discussion about how those who listen to the reports of near death experiencers will themselves tend to enjoy the same after effects. Moody’s book The Light Beyond has a nice discussion of the aftereffects, and it seems to me that my exposure to the accounts has done just that.

    I did a Sunstone West Session called “Night Unto Death: NDE Research and the Book of Mormon.” This was later published in the Journal of Book of Mormon Studies 2/1. I find that the NDE literature casts valuable light on LDS spiritual experience, and visa versa, for that matter. For instance, I found that Alma’s conversion has all the traits of an NDE, and that Alma demonstrates all the after effects associated with the experience. As does Jesus in the Book of Mormon. Plus, the Book of Mormon also fits nicely with Carol Zaleski’s important discussion of cultural influence on NDE experience.

    One night back in 1978, I was working at an all night gas station on Redwood Road and South Temple, when two young men came in and started thumping me, and grinding the barrels of Saturday Night specials against my head, asking me for something I could not provide. It does focus the mind wonderfully on the transcience of life. Some years later, I had to undergo exploratory surgery. That does it as well, though spreading it out over a few weeks. Nibley’s “Parable of the Eschatological Man” is right on the mark.

    I found after immersing myself in NDE literature for a while, I basically stopped worring about it. “The readiness is all. Let be.” Or as the Buddha put it, “After enlightenment, the laundry.”

    Kevin Christensen
    Pittsburgh, PA

    Comment # 15 by Kevin Christensen | Jun 14, 2007 | Reply

16. If we’re talking about strange therapies to cure the fear of death, why not mention Albert Hoffman’s research into using LSD with the terminally ill to overcome the anxiety associated with their impending death. For the record, I support such medically supervised use of psychedelics. (There goes my future presidential campaign!)

    Comment # 16 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 14, 2007 | Reply

17. One of my uncles on the Muslim side of our family recently passed away. One of the finest men I know, he had been terminally ill with cancer for a long time. He spent his last weeks making financial and material arrangements for his wife and family so he’d know they would be alright. Then, shortly before his death looking skeletal but calm, turned to his wife and said “Ok, I have seen this world and now it is time to see the other world!” I hope to be as ready to face my transition to the next world as he was when the time comes.

    I suppose my view of death and belief in the afterlife is much like my faith generally: I have my moments and times of doubt about the most basic concepts, and yet there is something deep in the core of me - gained through experience but also seemingly innately there regardless of experience - which just ultimately believes and knows there is more to come. When I have my deepest moments of doubt or fear, something deep within me knows what’s true and right. The scientist within me says that’s learned behavior which anyone could fall into, but something deeper says “you know it’s more than that, that there’s much more beyond yourself here”. I think that so long as I have struggled to live and repent and treat others the best I can, that when my time comes I will be able to have my uncle’s poise and prepared attitude. I hope to greet him on the other side where we will both mourn that we cannot have a good curry and kulfi until the day of resurrection.

    Comment # 17 by Non-Arab Arab | Jun 14, 2007 | Reply

18. From my own personal experience, I get those feelings too. I sometimes get the feeling that I must continue after death somehow. The more I meditate on those feelings, the more I am becoming convinced that they rise out of my difficulty in imagining a world where I am not an observer. It is difficult for me to wrap my mind around the total, final cessation of all thought. I try to imagine what it will feel like after all thoughts cease, but that question is nonsensical. It won’t feel like anything. I’m trying to imagine something that in internally inconsistent. It’s just easier to imagine that I continue after death.

    Comment # 18 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 15, 2007 | Reply

19. One thing I would say on the logical front: our doubts lead us to the obvious fact that we cannot prove there is life after death. However, I think we then too easily slip into the logical fallacy of assuming that if we cannot prove life after death then the opposite (i.e., no life after death) must be true. We can show absence of evidence, but no evidence of our eternal absence. From a purely logical perspective, stating there is proof for either hypothesis is erroneous and believing that logic or science sides with no life after death is just a serious a logical fallacy as believing that it is provable. Ultimately, it is not a question science or logic can answer.

    Comment # 19 by Non-Arab Arab | Jun 15, 2007 | Reply

20. Non-Arab Arab,

    It is certainly true that we must be ultimately agnostic about life-after-death because absolute proof is lacking both sides. The question then becomes which option you find more likely or plausible. I have seen no credible evidence that there is an afterlife, so I reserve my assent to that position until I do. I leave it to those who are making the extraordinary claims to offer extraordinary evidence.

    So I lack a believe in an afterlife and I feel quite justified in that position, but I’m not absolutely certain that I’m right.

    Comment # 20 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 15, 2007 | Reply

21. I think this is one of those instances where our incredibly powerful desire and need to continue to exist makes life after death seem more “likely” or “plausible” than perhaps it really is. That desire, that feeling, is incredibly powerful. But, there is still no evidence, and we must be agnostic about the afterlife. However, no amount of hoping will make it real.

    I see no need to worry about the afterlife. I am truly agnostic. I see no reason to even think about it. I have absolutely no control over it.

    Comment # 21 by Guido | Jun 16, 2007 | Reply

22. interesting discussion. when i was about 14 i had a medical procedure involving anesthesia. i was unaware that the anesthesia had already been administered and found myself groggily asking when the procedure was going to start. i was told it was all finished. it was disturbing. i did not feel like i had woken up from a nap or had slept. i felt like those hours of my life had disappeared somewhere. this experience is the only frame of reference i have for what it might be like to not exist. like some others who have commented i am a person who over time has drifted from a traditional LDS perspective on the afterlife to a broader, more eastern influenced view. i think this shift in itself leads us (me anyway) to dichotomize: people either do “the right things” in this life to assure blessings later, or they abandon belief in an afterlife and adopt a detach-and-live-in-the-moment philosophy. but reading through these postings it doesn’t seem like an accurate split. there seem to be traditional believers who are very present focused and mindful, and find support for that in their experience of the church. and when i think back to the time in my life when i likely felt the most alive or engaged in the immediacy of living, it was probably shortly after coming home from a mission - when my beliefs were much more traditional. so i guess the point i’m making is…maybe neither agnosticism nor “pretending to know” that there is an afterlife inherently leads anybody to live a full or less-than-full life.

    i would label myself as an agnostic regarding an afterlife, but i disagree with Guido that there is no reason to even think about whether there is one or not. if we are not drawn to what we do not know (a-gnosis), then there is no beauty in not knowing. for me, mystery without the passion is just ignorance and thumb twiddling. i now feel as strongly drawn to the unknown as i once was to all that i thought i knew.

    Comment # 22 by mark | Jun 17, 2007 | Reply

23. mark,

    The false dichotomy that you mention shows that people are not always motivated by their nominal beliefs. For those who heaven doesn’t appeal or doesn’t seem real, it won’t motivate even though they claim a belief in heaven. For example, I believed in the Home Teaching program, but I was a rotten Home Teacher most of the time. I didn’t really believe (beyond the intellectual level) that visiting others’ homes and sharing a canned/improvised message was important or effective. That’s why I didn’t do it. My batting average was more respectable when it came to helping my families move because I really believed in that. It’s the same with heaven.

    Comment # 23 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 18, 2007 | Reply

24. As a “side” issue, I believe that it the endangerment of the expected afterlife that causes so much anguish and anger in the spouse of someone who has turned away from mormonism.

    If I tell my wife that I am no longer a believer, she will feel betrayed in that I have destroyed the goal that we were working towards together - I will have cast her loose from the life-anchor that she has depended on.

    So, to answer a question that was *not* asked: “..how do your ideas/beliefs about the afterlife affect the daily lives of others (especially family)?”, a change from belief to disbelief may be the most destructive thing that could happen.

    Comment # 24 by Malkie | Jun 20, 2007 | Reply

25. I am a witness that out individual identities are eternal and persist after death. My experiences have come in connection with my efforts in family history and in helping to bring the Lord’s redemption to my ancestors. I haven’t the slightest notion how I, by the power of my poor words alone, could possibly convince anyone else of the truth of my testimony. I believe the Holy Ghost would confirm my testimony. I bless the sacred name of the Lord Jesus Christ for the joy He has prepared for us beyond the veil. I send these seeds of faith and hope in the name of Jesus Chrsit.

    Comment # 25 by Saint Holiday | Jun 21, 2007 | Reply

26. Malkie,
    You bring up a good point. However, I have recently stopped attending church with my wife (temple marriage) and have told her about my agnosticism. In truth, it has not affected our relationship terribly. I have asked her on several occasions whether she worries about our (or her) place in the eternities as a result of my actions, and she says no, it’s just not worth it to worry about it. We can’t know for sure what will happen to us, she knows that I love her and am still trying to be a good person, so there’s nothing else to do.

    I’m sad to hear that being honest (is that how you feel, or are you speaking hypothetically?) would negatively impact your wife and your relationship so much.

    Saint Holiday, those sound like intensely personal experiences. I don’t doubt that you’ve had experiences like that - but they are intensely personal and have no impact on me or anyone else. I, for one, have seen nothing that convinces me of the reality of the afterlife - but I am not devestated or concerned. I have chosen not to worry about it. That does not mean I don’t worry about the quality or direction of my life - quite the contrary.

    Comment # 26 by Guido | Jun 22, 2007 | Reply

27. Malkie, this was the biggest devastation to me when my husband told me he no longer believed. I was scared and angry, and I felt alone on the ‘journey.’ Because I love him and because he was honest, though, I’ve tried to understand him. I’ve read what he read and talked and talked and talked (and talked) with him. It was the most painful process I’ve ever gone through, but we understand and respect each other more at this point. I hope you can find a peaceful angle of repose with your wife as well.

    Comment # 27 by Proud mama blogga | Jun 22, 2007 | Reply

28. Malkie,

    Coincidentally, there have been some recent discussions on my blog and also at Main Street Plaza on the subject of how to break the news of your disbelief to your spouse. Coming out can be dangerous, but there are some things you can do to preserve your relationship despite your disbelief. Assuming that you are talking about your own situation, your spouse may have to go through a grieving process for her lost hopes of an afterlife together with you. Sensitivity to her feelings and needs can help your relationship weather the storm.

    In the end, I’m happy that I came out and did my best to help my wife adjust to the new reality. It feels good to be honest with her. Each situation is unique, however, and must be handled individually.

    Comment # 28 by Jonathan Blake | Jun 22, 2007 | Reply

29. Hi Jana-

    I guess this is kind of an old thread, but if it’s ok, I’d still like to add my two cents.

    I like to think of this question in terms of an Alma 32 “experiment on the word”, so to speak. I plant the seed, which is the word (in this case, the idea that I will be with my loved ones after death), and I cultivate it by exercising faith towards it. The seed begins to grow. I know it because I feel it. I have an experience — a feeling.

    Now, I think the common LDS interpretation from this experience is to make the leap from this good feeling, to a willingness to make knowledge claims about life after death. I had this good feeling, therefore I know that I will see my loved ones again. I think this is a poor analysis of the experiment on the word — even by Alma’s own standards.

    What do we know at this point? What does Alma say? Is our faith now perfect? No. All we know at this point is that the seed is good. Alma doesn’t give us license to start making metaphysical claims about life after death. All we get from him is an assurance that if cultivating the seed (faith) produces good results (good feelings), then the seed is good, and we should continue to exercise our faith. In this sense, we can remain “agnostic” in a sense about the metaphysical reality (or lack thereof) of life after death, while still claiming to know that faith and belief in life after death are good. The faith and belief are good, not because they are true in some correspondence sense of “truth”, but rather, because they produce good results.

    Comment # 29 by Joey | Aug 11, 2007 | Reply

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