Deconstructing "The Savior Can Deliver You": What We Really Need Saving From

I came across a post shared by a friend this morning from an LDS/Mormon ward social media account. On the surface, it looks uplifting and comforting. Beneath that surface lies a framework of harmful messaging that kept me psychologically trapped for decades and that I am still working to deconstruct. Let's unpack it with this perspective in mind: "Most of us think of ourselves as thinking creatures that feel, but we are actually feeling creatures that think." - Jill Bolte Taylor.

The Savior knows what you're going through. He can help you conquer sin, anger, fear, sorrow, and death!

This looks nice on the surface, but hidden beneath is a lot of unhealthy perspective. The only things we might legitimately need help with are sin (if we accept that framework) and death.

But anger, fear, and sorrow? These are natural human emotions that we do not need saving from. We need to understand how to effectively process them because they have legitimate purposes. Fear helps us avoid things that are harmful. Sorrow shows us that we are missing something or have experienced loss. Anger helps us recognize and face injustice and challenging things in our life.

The church taught me to suppress my anger: anger about being an outsider because I didn't fit the marriage timeline, anger about the worthiness treadmill that made me feel perpetually inadequate, anger about a system that had no place for people like me. That suppressed anger didn't disappear; it went underground and contributed to unhealthy relationships and shame. I didn't need to "conquer" my anger through Christ. I needed to acknowledge it, understand what it was telling me, and address the actual problems it was pointing to.

Jesus Christ agreed to come to earth and be our Savior!

Again, this looks nice on the surface, but hides something insidious. Within this statement is the implication that we need to be saved. What is it we need to be saved from? A condition that, within a Christian framework, is one of God's design. He made the rules, decided the consequences, and created us knowing the ultimate outcomes then positioned himself as the only solution to the problem he created.

What does that mean? It means you don't have to handle your problems alone. The Savior is called the Deliverer because He can deliver you from every problem you will face in life.

This line of thinking kept me dependent on the church for far too long. It masked the reality that I didn't need spiritual help, I needed mental health support. I didn't need saving from emotions the church painted as negative or unwanted; I needed to understand how to process emotions effectively. When I finally sought therapy, real progress began. The "invisible force" of the Spirit wasn't guiding me toward help; the church's framework was keeping me stuck.

As you trust Him, He can deliver you from:

1. From Sin - We all fall short and mess up sometimes. As part of His Atonement, the Savior felt the burden of your sins. He knows perfectly how to help you work through your mistakes, developing new habits and attitudes as you repent. His representatives—the bishop or branch president—can help you feel God's love and come closer to Him.

If you need help overcoming habits and attitudes, the far better solution is to turn to a competent mental health professional than to a bishop or branch president; lay people who are not trained to help people with these kinds of issues, but are only given limited resources in truly knowing how to help people through some of the most challenging aspects of life.

I remember a story Michael McLean told in one of his live performances that I watched often while growing up. He described being in Sunday School as a youth, where his teacher gave an object lesson hammering nails into a board. The board represented the person, the nails represented sin, and the hammer represented repentance. The punchline: "Even if the nails are removed, the scars are still there."

This contradicts scripture that promises "though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow" (Isaiah 1:18). But more insidiously, it perpetuates the idea that even if you repent, you're still permanently stained and damaged. The church teaches both complete cleansing and permanent scarring simultaneously: a psychological trap that ensures you can never truly feel clean.

I, and numerous others who are both within the church and who have left it, internalized this message particularly around the Law of Chastity. Even if I "repented" of certain activities, confessed to my bishop, and jumped through all the hoops, I'd still be damaged goods. Less marriageable. Permanently marked. The shame wasn't from the behavior itself, it was manufactured by the theology. The church created a problem (you're unworthy, you're scarred), offered an incomplete solution (repent, but you'll always be marked), and positioned itself as the only entity that could manage my permanent brokenness.

Maybe the church didn't explicitly teach some of these things, but this was what I took away from it. I am beyond grateful for the means I have to know that others have had similar experiences and have found meaningful lives outside of church doctrine.

2. From Anger - The Savior can help you let go of angry feelings, large and small. He understands the pain that others caused you. You can trust that He will judge them—and you—perfectly someday. In the meantime, pray for the Spirit to replace anger and bitterness with comfort and peace.

Reflecting back on what I've already said about anger: anger is a tool that has a legitimate function and biological purpose. You don't need to let go of anger immediately; you need to know how to sit with it, understand what it's telling you, and determine what you need to do to address it. Anger is a reaction to injustice, a lack of compassion, or harmful behavior. We should not dismiss our feelings just because a religion says certain emotions are not of God.

If others have caused you pain, is it not better to try to reconcile with them whenever possible rather than just carrying that pain to God, who can do nothing to change how that person or group of people treats you? This is another insidious trap that teaches people to bottle up their emotions and displace accountability rather than bringing grievances to the table and trying to work through them directly with the people involved.

Anger and bitterness serve purposes. While I don't believe you should hold onto them forever, they shouldn't be avoided at all costs. Bitterness shows you how something affected you and likewise shouldn't be suppressed. It is something to reflect on, but is not inherently bad on its face.

3. From Fear - Christ understands you perfectly—including what scares you. He is more powerful than any evil! He calmed the seas, and He can calm you too. Invite His Spirit into your life through uplifting media, music, and conversations. Focus on His light instead of dark influences.

Despite this supposed understanding, there is immeasurable unnecessary suffering and evil in the world. If God can calm seas, why does he not stop hurricanes? Why does he not stop flesh-eating viruses? Why does he not stop infant mortality? Why doesn't he stop the assault of children by trusted clergy and family members? Maybe Christ does understand, but lacks the power to meaningfully intervene in the most significant forms of suffering in the world.

The guidance about "uplifting media" is also detrimental because it's censorship disguised as spiritual protection. The church told me certain things "do not invite the Spirit"; specific movies, music, books, ideas. This kept me in a bubble, preventing me from engaging with content and perspectives that might have helped me question earlier or understand myself better. I was taught to fear "dark influences" when what I actually needed was exposure to diverse viewpoints and honest examinations of difficult questions.

4. From Sorrow - Jesus Christ agreed to take upon Himself pains and afflictions of every kind, even emotional ones, so that He would know how to help you. Stay close to Him as you work through your sorrows. He will ease your burdens and strengthen you. He loves you!

If you have physical pain, go to a doctor. If you have emotional pain, go to a therapist. If you have an affliction, address it with the person afflicting you; if the affliction is circumstantial, this may be an opportunity to work with a therapist who can help you put it into perspective.

So many don't need spiritual help, they need mental health support. When I finally sought therapy after years of struggling, real progress began immediately. Relying on an invisible force to naturally guide you toward the help you need is like saying you can get water by sticking out your tongue when it's raining. It may technically be true, but it will not make any meaningful difference. The church's promise that Christ would "ease my burdens" kept me from seeking the actual professional help I needed.

I will acknowledge that much of our society, as well as the church, is working toward a greater understanding of the need for mental health services. However, the church still largely paints itself as the primary solution to most of life's problems, not an ancillary one.

5. From Death - Losing a loved one is one of the most difficult things we can go through. But because the Savior died and was resurrected, death is not the end! We will see our loved ones again someday. You can always have hope for the future.

There is no reliable evidence that those who die exist beyond their death. After 30+ years of believing in eternal families, letting go of that hope was one of the hardest parts of my deconstruction. The promise of eternity was comforting. It meant I'd have infinite time to fix relationships, to say the things I never said, to connect with the people I loved.

But losing that belief has also made this life more precious. I don't have eternity to make things right with my parents or connect with the people I love. I have now. That urgency is a gift, not a loss. Rather than hoping for a happy afterlife where everything works out, I'm motivated to make this one life as meaningful as I possibly can.

Reach out to loved ones now. Hug your children now. Tell those who are special to you what they mean now. We will always regret not spending more time with loved ones, but that doesn't mean we should neglect them in this life while hoping we'll have eternity to make up for it. I know I'm not the only one that can do better with this.

Conclusion

The ward post promises deliverance from problems, but the real deliverance came when I stepped away from the framework that created most of those problems in the first place. I don't need saving from natural human emotions. I don't need a bishop to help me process normal human experiences. I don't need to suppress my feelings and wait for God to judge those who hurt me. I don't need to limit my media consumption to stay "spiritually safe."

What I needed, what I finally found, was permission to be human. Permission to feel anger, fear, sorrow, and a host of other emotions that were framed in a negative light within a relgious context without pathologizing them. Permission to seek professional help instead of spiritual band-aids. Permission to build meaning in this life rather than postponing it for an imaginary next one.

The Savior isn't the deliverer this post promises. The real deliverance was recognizing I never needed saving in the first place.