Crawling Over the Book of Mormon: How the Church Frames Leaving as Deficiency
In memorial of the passing of Elder Jeffry R. Holland, I want to share the following:
The other day I reencountered a quote from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland that surfaced in a video discussing Books of Mormon being placed in hotel rooms at Marriott locations. The quote stopped me cold. Not because it was unfamiliar, but because it crystallized something I've felt for a long time but struggled to articulate.
This quote reveals, with uncomfortable clarity, how the church frames those who leave.
The Quote
From Holland's October 2009 General Conference address, "Safety for the Soul":
"I testify that one cannot come to full faith in this latter-day work—and thereby find the fullest measure of peace and comfort in these, our times—until he or she embraces the divinity of the Book of Mormon and the Lord Jesus Christ, of whom it testifies. If anyone is foolish enough or misled enough to reject 531 pages of a heretofore unknown text teeming with literary and Semitic complexity without honestly attempting to account for the origin of those pages—especially without accounting for their powerful witness of Jesus Christ and the profound spiritual impact that witness has had on what is now tens of millions of readers—if that is the case, then such a person, elect or otherwise, has been deceived; and if he or she leaves this Church, it must be done by crawling over or under or around the Book of Mormon to make that exit. In that sense the book is what Christ Himself was said to be: 'a stone of stumbling, … a rock of offence,' a barrier in the path of one who wishes not to believe in this work."
Intellectual Intimidation
This is intellectual intimidation dressed as scholarship.
Start with Holland's opening premise: that one cannot "find the fullest measure of peace and comfort" without embracing the Book of Mormon. This is the church propping itself up as "the one true church" on the earth, standing on Joseph Smith's assertion that "a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book." The framing positions the doubter as someone walking away from the one truth, the singular path to peace.
But this assumes the very thing in question. There is no good evidence that Christ visited the Americas. There is no archaeological, genetic, or linguistic evidence supporting the Book of Mormon's historical claims. And beyond that, there is no good evidence that Christ was resurrected at all and therefore had the power to appear elsewhere after his death. The "fullest measure of peace and comfort" claim only carries weight if the supernatural premises are true. And those premises are exactly what my own examination found wanting.
Notice the framing that follows: if you reject the Book of Mormon, you are "foolish," "misled," or "deceived." There's no category for someone who examined the evidence and reached a different conclusion. The very act of rejection is defined as dishonest.
"Without honestly attempting to account for the origin of those pages" - this presupposes that honest examination leads to only one conclusion: belief. If you examined it and rejected it, you must not have been honest about it. The logic is circular and closed. There is no legitimate exit.
And then: "if he or she leaves this Church, it must be done by crawling over or under or around the Book of Mormon."
Crawling.
Not walking. Not stepping thoughtfully away. Crawling. A posture of degradation, shame, avoidance. The person who leaves isn't making a considered choice; they're slinking away from something they can't honestly face.
Holland frames the Book of Mormon as "a stone of stumbling, a rock of offence." This is language that preemptively defines rejection as the rejecter's problem. You didn't evaluate and conclude; you stumbled. You didn't fail to be persuaded by evidence; you took offense.
He also invokes the witnesses elsewhere in the talk: "testified to their death that they had seen an angel and had handled the plates." What he doesn't mention:
- All three witnesses left the church at various points
- Their descriptions often involved seeing with "spiritual eyes" rather than physical sight
- Joseph Smith himself called Martin Harris unreliable
- The Eight Witnesses never provided independent written statements
The testimony sounds powerful until you examine it. But examining it honestly would make you "foolish" or "deceived," so best not to look too closely.
The Framing
Holland's quote defines the person who leaves as deficient. The deficiency is intellectual and moral. You're foolish, misled, deceived, dishonest. You didn't really try. You took offense. You crawled away.
There's no room in this framing for:
- Someone who left because they were genuinely suffering
- Someone who examined the evidence and arguments and found them wanting
- Someone who realized the environment was damaging their mental health
- Someone who made a difficult, painful, healthy choice
- Someone who grows beyond the expected marriage timeline and finds himself left out
- Someone who simply stopped believing and chose to live with integrity
- Someone who sees the way the institution harms others
In Holland's framing, these people don't exist. There are only the faithful and the foolish.
Why This Matters to Me
I didn't leave the church because I didn't weigh the evidence and consider it carefully. I left because I began to see around the faith claims of the church. I began to see why they weren't sufficient to sustain my belief.
According to Jeffrey R. Holland, that means I crawled away. I was foolish, misled, deceived. I didn't honestly attempt to account for the Book of Mormon's origins.
I spent four years in seminary. I served a mission. I memorized scriptures like my life depended on it. I earned enough Institute credits to graduate twice over. I read, I prayed, I tried. For over thirty years, I tried.
And here's where Holland's theology turns back on itself:
If my mind was insufficient to properly perceive the truth...if I couldn't see what Holland or other church members see, couldn't feel what they feel, couldn't believe what they believe...is that not at least partially in the hands of the God who made me?
The God who, according to Mormon theology, knitted me together in the womb. Who knows me perfectly. Who counts the hairs on my head.
If I was built in a way that couldn't sustain belief; if my brain, my reasoning, my capacity for faith was insufficient...whose design is that?
You can't preach a God who creates and knows every soul, who created the conditions of mortality, then blame those souls for how they're built.
And even granting agency, Mormon theology teaches that God knew our destination before we came to earth. Abraham 3:25 says, "And we will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them." A seminary teacher used this verse to teach me that we are not here to prove to God that we deserve to be with him - He already knows - we are here to prove it to ourselves. If that's true, then my path was known before I took my first breath. The God who designed me knew where I would land.
The Disconnect
Here's what I've been sitting with since hearing this quote: when leaders speak this way about people who leave, how could those who left ever feel genuinely connected to those who stayed?
I'm supposed to maintain relationships with people who believe, because their leaders teach it, that I crawled away in dishonesty, that I'm foolish and deceived, that I failed to genuinely examine what I spent decades examining.
They may not say it to my face. They may even consciously reject Holland's framing. But this is what they hear from the pulpit. This is what's taught. This is the lens they're given for understanding people like me.
And they wonder why I feel disconnected.
The church creates the chasm, then blames those who fell into it for not building a bridge back.
A Final Thought
I don't think Jeffrey R. Holland was a monster. I think he genuinely believed what he said. I think he genuinely believed that people who leave are making catastrophic mistakes and that strong language might save them.
He was easily one of the apostles I resonated with the most when I was in the church.
That's what makes it so pernicious.
He's not twirling a mustache. He's expressing sincere concern in the only framework he has: a framework that he may not have been able to conceive of leaving as healthy, honest, or wise. A framework that must define departure as deficiency because the alternative is admitting that reasonable people can examine the evidence and walk away.
The quote isn't evil. It's the natural output of a system that cannot tolerate exit.
And for those of us who left, who crawled, apparently, or stumbled, or were deceived, we're left to rebuild in the shadow of that framing, knowing that the people we love are being taught to see us as foolish and lost.
Is it any wonder we feel disconnected?
I morne with those who are feeling the grief of his loss. In a sense, it's one more chip off the church that I remember being a part of. And that it is becoming something different than the one I left behind.