Introduction

9 min read · Who Is Truth by Jeffrey L. Thayne and Edwin E. Gantt

We wrote this book for Latter-day Saints who are experiencing (or who have ever experienced) concerns or questions about their faith. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf recently observed, “There are few members of the Church who, at one time or another, have not wrestled with serious or sensitive questions.”1 First, we want to dispel a misconception: some members assume that those who experience a crisis of faith must have committed some sort of sin. As President Uchtdorf explains, “Actually, it is not that simple.”2

Through the years, many of our friends have experienced doubt about the Church and its teachings. In some instances, there were signs that they were living their life in ways that alienated them from the Spirit of God. In other instances, they felt deeply hurt or offended by something a Church leader said or did. But in other instances, the seeds for their doubt were intellectual in nature. (To be clear, this does not mean that the seeds for those doubts are always the result of good scholarship, merely that they are not always the consequence of immoral behavior.)

For example, we have spoken with friends who questioned their faith when they discovered that the temple rituals have changed (in some respects) over the past 150 years. Others questioned their faith when they found statements made by early Church leaders that seemed to contradict current Church teachings. And yet others questioned their faith when they discovered that a particular teaching they thought was unchangeable doctrine turned out to be nothing of the sort.

This has also happened as prophets or apostles teach principles that contradict popular (or even unpopular) political belief systems. Together, we have witnessed dozens of liberal or libertarian friends call into question the spiritual authority of prophets and apostles because of the Church’s teachings on sexuality, marriage, abortion, or other controversial political topics. In such cases, they ask, “How can prophets speak for God and yet get things so wrong?”

We have also witnessed conservative friends do the same. For example, a few of our friends questioned their faith when the Church supported non-discrimination policies in housing and employment in the state of Utah, because such policies would have been condemned (or so they think) by prior Church leaders. In such cases, they ask, “How can prophets speak for God if they teach one thing one decade, and then another a few decades later?”

Others have experienced doubt because blessings they thought had been promised to them never materialized. The formula for prosperity and happiness, they thought, was simple: go to church, pray, read the scriptures, attend the temple, and so forth. After all, the Lord taught, “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say” (D&C 82:10). In such cases, they ask, “Why then am I still single, divorced, suffering from mental illness, or a host of other difficult experiences?”

The list goes on. We have talked with friends who were genuinely troubled that we keep our temple rituals private. The “secrecy” surrounding the temple felt “cultish” to them. “If the temple teaches truth,” they asked, “Why do we not broadcast that truth to the world?” Yet others have questioned the purpose of the Atonement. They ask, “Why must God require His Son to suffer, just so that we can live with Him?” Yet others noticed that some of the moral codes we live by seem culturally situated, so they began to question their divine origins. These and many other such questions can often feel like a thousand different attacks on faith. But what if many of these sorts of questions share a single root?

If you have asked any of the above questions, this book is for you. Addressing this endless litany of questions (and more) may be a tall order for a single book. But we do this by addressing what they all have in common. Many of our questions feel unanswerable because they’re built on faulty premises.3 It’s like being in a circular room and being asked to find the corner. The problem isn’t your inability to find it; the problem is that you’re looking for something that doesn’t exist in that context. President Dallin H. Oaks explained, “On many important subjects involving religion, Latter-day Saints think differently than many others.”4 President Oaks continued:

When I say that Latter-day Saints “think differently,” I do not suggest that we have a different way of reasoning in the sense of how we think. I am referring to the fact that on many important subjects our assumptions—our starting points or major premises—are different from many of our friends and associates.5

Not only do our beliefs hinge on different premises, but the premises of our questions matter as well. Many of the questions above are rooted in a single premise: They assume that truth is a set of abstract ideas or doctrines that never change.

Let’s pause on that premise, because for many of us, it feels like the very definition of truth. “Well, of course, truth is unchanging!” we might say. “God is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Mormon 9:9). And that is correct. But we sometimes bake into this a specific mental model for how we relate to that truth. We begin to treat prophetic teachings like a divine blueprint for a perfect building, etched in stone. We expect every line to be perfect, every measurement exact, every instruction timeless and complete. The Church is the resulting structure, which we expect to be without blemish or modification.

But what happens when we examine the construction site and discover a revised floor plan (like changes in Church policy)? Or when we hear one contractor’s interpretation from 1880 and a different one from today? Or we find a smudge on the original blueprint (a difficult historical fact)? If our faith is in the perfection of the blueprint itself, these discoveries can be catastrophic. They make us question the entire project. This premise, in an attempt to make faith secure, ironically makes it fragile.

But for many, it is the default way to think about truth. But this assumption may be one of the “philosophies of men” that can subtly change the way we think about the gospel, and ultimately ensnare us in doubt. This view has its roots in ancient Greek philosophy. The Greeks saw things that do not change as more fundamental than those that do, and this led them to focus on abstract ideas as “truth.” It’s like viewing truth as a perfect marble statue in a museum—something to be admired for its flawless, unchanging form. You can study it, but you cannot have a relationship with it.

In the view we articulate in this book, truth is not a set of abstract ideas (what we’ll call “idea-truth”), but a living, breathing Person who loves us as His children (what we'll call “person-truth”). This is more like viewing truth as a trusted guide on a difficult journey. The relationship is dynamic, the conversation is alive, and your trust is in the guide, not in a pre-printed, unchangeable map. This view is inspired by Hebrew thought, which did not separate the search for truth from our journey to (and with) God. And once we adopt this view—even provisionally—all of our questions change. Not all of our questions will be answered, to be sure. But the way we frame the questions will change so that they no longer tilt us towards doubt. We explain how this is so throughout the rest of this book.

Let’s be clear about what this relational view does not mean. Following a living guide is not a license to wander wherever we please. A trustworthy guide does not simply tell us what we want to hear; they point out the cliff edges we cannot see and lead us along the steep, difficult paths that are necessary for the journey. Likewise, truth that can be molded to our every desire is not the treasure we seek; it is merely a mirror reflecting our own image. True, living truth is meant to mold us. It has an edge that shapes us, refines us, and requires us to submit our will to the living God and His authorized servants.

But what if you are not experiencing concerns or asking questions about your faith? What if the questions we’ve listed earlier feel distant and unrelatable? If so, this book is still for you—perhaps, especially for you. It may be that your testimony feels so solid precisely because you have successfully built it upon the idea of a perfect, unchanging blueprint. This model can provide a powerful sense of certainty and order, and for that, we can be grateful.

The purpose of this book is not to disrupt that certainty, but to deepen it—to help transition a faith that is secure but potentially brittle into one that is both secure and resilient. By shifting the foundation of faith from an abstract ideal to a living Person, you will be better equipped to face future questions—your own or those of others—not as cracks in a flawless statue, but as invitations to a deeper relationship with the Guide. This will not only fortify your own testimony, it will give you a more compassionate and effective framework for assisting friends and family in their own journeys of faith.

But perhaps more important, this book may help you to reframe the way you think about your relationship with God. Our hope is that all of our readers will center their faith more on the Savior Jesus Christ and the covenants they have made with God, and less on abstract lists of doctrine or beliefs. We echo the words of Nephi, who wrote, “For the fulness of mine intent is that I may persuade men to come unto the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, and be saved” (1 Nephi 6:4).

In chapter 1, we will explore the central distinction of this book. This chapter will lay out the premises upon which we often ask our questions (idea-truth) and upon which we could ask our questions (person-truth). Chapter 2 will explore the ancient roots of this distinction and why Latter-day Saints should treat Greek philosophy with caution. The remainder of the book will explore how these premises change how we think about the gospel and how we frame our questions.

Footnotes

  1. Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “Come, Join with Us,” Ensign, November 2013, 23. ↩

  2. Ibid., 22. ↩

  3. Edwin E. Gantt, Madeline R. Christensen, and Jacob D. Tubbs, “Help Thou My Unbelief: Exploring the Secular Sources of Our Clients’ Doubts,” Issue in Religion and Psychotherapy, 40(1), 4-24. ↩

  4. Dallin H. Oaks, “As He Thinketh in His Heart” (address given to Church Educational System religious educators, Salt Lake City, Utah, February 8, 2013). ↩

  5. Come, Follow Me—For Individuals and Families (Salt Lake City, UT: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2019), 10. ↩

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