What happens when sincere questions meet practiced answers? Every year, thousands of Latter-day Saints quietly step away from the faith that shaped their childhood, their marriages, and their understanding of eternity—not because they stopped caring, but because they started asking questions their community couldn’t answer. This five-part series isn’t written to attack or mock; it’s written for the thoughtful believer who has noticed the tension between what they were taught and what they’ve discovered, and who deserves more than “just pray about it” when the stakes are this high. From the coached testimonies of toddlers to the shifting explanations surrounding the Book of Abraham, from teenage missionaries bearing the title “Elder” to the complicated dance between faith and doubt, these essays invite a conversation that many LDS members have only whispered among themselves. The questions aren’t hostile—but they are serious, and they deserve serious engagement rather than defensive dismissal.
Jesus used questions extensively as a teaching tool to provoke thought, foster personal discovery, and deepen faith rather than simply delivering answers. The core lesson is that true transformation comes from internal wrestling with truth, not passive reception of information.
Provokes self-reflection
Jesus asked questions to encourage introspection and self-examination, helping people confront their motives, doubts, and assumptions. Examples include “Why do you doubt?” (Matthew 14:31) and “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15), which forced listeners to evaluate their own hearts.
This method reveals inner barriers to faith, as seen when Jesus tested Philip’s thinking about feeding the 5,000 (John 6:5-6).
Engages deeper thinking
Open-ended questions like “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51) went beyond yes/no responses to spark critical analysis and higher-level understanding. They elevated learning from mere facts to evaluating personal beliefs and behaviors.
Rhetorical questions, such as “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 6:27), drove home truths without direct statements.
Builds faith through discovery
By eliciting responses, Jesus guided people to arrive at truth themselves, making it personal and memorable—e.g., Peter’s confession after Jesus’ question about his identity. Questions cultivated relationships and ownership of faith over rote knowledge.
This approach models discipleship: questions confer dignity, initiate dialogue, and lead to self-awareness of God and others.
Questions Worth Asking: Thoughtful Reflections on Latter-day Saint Claims (1 of 5): Borrowed Words: When Children Say, “I Know.”
What happens when a three-year-old approaches a microphone to declare “I know the Church is true”—with a parent whispering the words? Is this tender faith formation or manufactured certainty?
This thought-provoking essay examines the common Latter-day Saint practice of coached childhood testimonies through the lenses of philosophy, developmental psychology, and theology. Drawing on insights from Alvin Plantinga’s reformed epistemology, James Fowler’s stages of faith development, and William James’s work on religious experience, the author asks whether children can genuinely “know” religious truths they are developmentally incapable of evaluating.
The analysis explores five central questions: What does it mean to “know” something about God? What distinguishes faith from certainty? Are religious communities nurturing authentic belief or programming scripted responses? What happens when childhood certainty collides with adult doubt? And does coaching children actually confuse the true source of spiritual knowledge?
The author draws from LDS sources themselves—including official Church guidance stating children should bear testimony “only when they can do so on their own”—to highlight tensions within the tradition. Engaging Augustine’s distinction between the faith by which we believe and the content we believe, the essay argues that authentic faith involves personal engagement, not mere recitation.
Rather than attacking Latter-day Saint families, this work invites parents across all traditions to consider whether the language of certainty (“I know”) should precede the language of faith (“I believe,” “I trust,” “I hope”). It challenges readers to create space for honest questioning and to trust that genuine spiritual conviction develops through wrestling with doubt rather than bypassing it.
The essay concludes with Kierkegaard’s insight that faith requires passionate commitment in the face of uncertainty—and suggests that perhaps the greatest gift we can give children is permission to wonder.
Questions Worth Asking: Thoughtful Reflections on Latter-day Saint Claims (2 of 5): What Makes An Elder An Elder?
Why do eighteen-year-old Latter-day Saint missionaries bear the title “Elder”? This thoughtful essay examines the striking linguistic and theological departure from historic Christianity that this practice represents—and what it reveals about fundamentally different understandings of spiritual authority.
In virtually every Christian tradition—Orthodox, Catholic, Protestant—the word “elder” (presbyteros in Greek) carries connotations of age, wisdom, and tested spiritual maturity developed over decades. The New Testament is explicit: elders must not be “recent converts,” must manage their households well, and must have children old enough to demonstrate faithful character. Paul’s qualifications describe traits that can only be formed through the crucible of time and experience.
The LDS Church understands “elder” quite differently. In their system, it’s an office in the Melchizedek Priesthood conferred through ordination beginning at age eighteen—a designation that flows from institutional authority rather than demonstrated spiritual maturity. This isn’t an accidental quirk but reflects a fundamentally different ecclesiology: if spiritual authority is transmitted through ritual ordination rather than developed through Spirit-wrought character formation, then age and proven wisdom become functionally irrelevant.
The essay explores this through an illuminating analogy: imagine a vocational school granting ASE mechanic certification on a student’s first day, before they’ve ever diagnosed an engine problem. The credential might be technically valid, but would you trust that “technician” with your transmission? We intuitively understand that genuine competence cannot be conferred—it must be developed. The biblical model applies this same logic to spiritual leadership.
Drawing on the early church’s catechumenate practices, sociological research on commitment mechanisms in high-demand groups, and careful analysis of LDS historical claims, the author identifies what philosophers call “definitional equivocation”—using familiar Christian terminology while fundamentally redefining its meaning. The shared vocabulary creates an appearance of continuity where discontinuity actually exists.
The essay concludes not with condemnation but with genuine questions: Can authority be separated from maturity? Is leadership something conferred or cultivated? What does the practice reveal about the nature of the church itself?
Questions Worth Asking: Thoughtful Reflections on Latter-day Saint Claims (3 of 5): When The Story Changes: Faith, History, and Moving Targets
When does legitimate scholarly revision become defensive rationalization? This penetrating essay examines how religious communities handle historical difficulties, using the Book of Abraham as a compelling case study in the philosophy of evidence and belief.
In 1835, Joseph Smith acquired Egyptian papyri and declared them to contain writings of the biblical patriarch Abraham, “written by his own hand.” For over a century, this explanation sufficed—until fragments were rediscovered in 1967 and examined by trained Egyptologists. Their consensus: the papyri date roughly two thousand years after Abraham’s lifetime and contain standard Egyptian funerary texts with no mention of Abraham whatsoever.
Drawing on philosopher Karl Popper’s crucial distinction between legitimate auxiliary hypotheses and ad hoc rationalizations, the essay traces the evolution of LDS apologetic explanations. The “missing scroll theory” proposed that Smith translated from lost portions of the papyri. When this proved problematic, the “catalyst theory” emerged—suggesting the papyri merely triggered spiritual revelation rather than serving as an actual source text. The LDS Church’s own Gospel Topics essay now states that Joseph’s study of the papyri “may have led to a revelation” about Abraham.
The author raises three philosophical questions that deserve serious consideration. First, what would count as disconfirmation? If “translation” can mean “inspiration triggered by looking at an unrelated document,” has the term retained any meaningful content? Second, does the catalyst theory create new problems—particularly regarding Smith’s specific facsimile interpretations that directly contradict Egyptological understanding? Third, how do we distinguish genuine intellectual progress from immunizing stratagems that merely protect conclusions from falsification?
The essay notes a broader pattern: when historical claims face difficulties, there is often a retreat from objective assertion to subjective spiritual testimony. Even respected LDS historian Richard Bushman acknowledges that “the dominant narrative is not true; it can’t be sustained.”
Written with respect for Latter-day Saint commitment while maintaining intellectual rigor, this essay invites honest reflection: when a story changes dramatically to accommodate new evidence, at what point does faith become rationalization?
Questions Worth Asking: Thoughtful Reflections on Latter-day Saint Claims (4 of 5) – Reading the Bible on Its Own Terms
Part four of this five-part series examines how biblical interpretation methods affect our understanding of Scripture, with particular attention to passages commonly cited in Latter-day Saint apologetics.
The author introduces the grammatical-historical method of biblical interpretation, which seeks to understand what ancient texts meant to their original audiences before applying them today. Using this framework, the book analyzes three key passages frequently used in LDS missionary discussions:
- Ezekiel 37:15-20 (the “two sticks” prophecy): The text provides its own interpretation—the reunification of Israel and Judah as nations—yet LDS teaching identifies these as the Bible and Book of Mormon.
- John 10:16 (the “other sheep”): Traditional Christianity understands this as referring to Gentile believers, while LDS interpretation identifies them as ancient Americans.
- 1 Corinthians 15:29 (baptism for the dead): The author examines Paul’s pronoun shift and argues the verse describes rather than endorses the practice.
The work also discusses the Joseph Smith Translation and questions surrounding its methodology, drawing on scholarship from both LDS and non-LDS academics.
Written in an accessible, non-confrontational tone, this study invites readers of all backgrounds to consider whether interpretive methods honor the integrity of biblical texts. The author frames the discussion as an invitation to interpretive humility rather than accusation, emphasizing that honest engagement with Scripture can itself be an act of reverence.
Questions Worth Asking: Thoughtful Reflections on Latter-day Saint Claims (5 of 5) – The Space for Doubt: How Healthy Communities Handle Hard Questions
The concluding installment of this five-part series examines how religious communities respond to doubt, dissent, and difficult questions—with particular attention to Latter-day Saint culture while acknowledging these challenges affect all faith traditions.
Drawing on sociological research, the author explores the concept of “high-demand” religious groups and the phenomenon of “bounded choice,” where members technically have freedom to leave but face high social and familial costs. The essay examines how LDS epistemology—built around the testimony experience—can create circular reasoning when historical evidence conflicts with spiritual conviction.
The work analyzes common patterns in apologetic reasoning, including the genetic fallacy, appeals to authority, ad hominem responses, and special pleading. Using the Book of Abraham as a case study, the author traces what he calls “epistemological retreat”—the tendency to redefine claims when evidence proves troublesome, moving from verifiable assertions to purely subjective ones.
Importantly, the essay acknowledges the genuine virtues of Latter-day Saint community life while questioning whether institutional responses to doubt serve truth-seeking. The author contrasts these patterns with the Christian tradition’s rich history of wrestling with doubt, from the Psalms’ laments to Augustine’s philosophical journey to Luther’s spiritual struggles.
The conclusion offers characteristics of healthy faith communities: honesty about difficulties, charity toward doubters, methodological consistency, and humility about certainty. Written as an invitation rather than an accusation, the work encourages readers wrestling with questions to recognize that honest doubt can be a prelude to deeper faith rather than evidence of spiritual failure.