My friend, Andrew, wrote a beautiful and moving post recently - "Dark Night of the Soul". In reading that post and the subsequent comments, I had an epiphany about my own experience with certainty and doubt. I have been thinking about how to explain the difference between my experience and Andrew's - and, even more interesting, the similar result from such different experiences. I will not try to summarize Andrew's post here; that would not do it proper justice. What I will post here is the epiphany that struck me as I read it and the comments about it.
I have not experienced the "dark night" Andrew describes. 
1) I read the Book of Mormon for the first time in First Grade as part of a reading project at school. (I chose to read it; the other kids were reading Dr. Seuss, The Berenstain Bears, etc.)
By the time I was seven, I had read the Book of Mormon and fallen in love with the way it made me feel - not the doctrine in it, per se, but the way it opened my mind and heart to some incredible feelings and impressions. I am not a "visual learner", and I don't "see" what I read in the classic sense of being able to envision it in colorful detail. I "got" the words, but more importantly I "got" the "speaking from the dust" aspect - and that was more important than the words for me.
More importantly, I recognized places where it DIDN'T say what others believed it said. Even at that age, I was a parser - and I remember thinking that lots of people in my life, including many adults and leaders, didn't really understand some of the things I was reading in the way that they actually were written. I read passages and thought, "I can understand why people think it says ________________, but it just doesn't say that."
That was a foundational recognition for me - that faithful people could read the same words and understand them differently.
2) Growing up, I remember distinctly the words and example of my father. He taught me so many lessons, but the ones that came back to me as I read Andrew's post were the ones that dealt with certainty - the ones that taught me what I could and couldn't know. My dad is not a philosopher; he hated school and struggled there; in many ways, he is average Joe Mormon; he was and is, however, incredibly insightful and brilliant in his own way. Many of my strongest "understandings" of the Gospel were shaped by what he said and how he lived, particularly when it comes to the issue of certainty and doubt.
I have no idea how many times I heard him say, "I don't know", or, "That sounds good, but we just don't know for sure," or, "I'm not sure that's how I see it," etc.
3) As early as I can remember, I have understood the Gospel to be the core, fundamental, foundational principles of God. I have understood our perspectives to be what "we see through a glass, darkly" - our best attempt to make out the details within the general outline we have been given. I have understood the focus of this life to be the process of becoming like God - of taking our fallen nature and repenting, by changing that fallen nature into an exalted ("raised") nature. I have understood that there can be certainty in that process - in the type of faith that motivates us to act in order to change (repent), to accept baptism as the symbol of that effort and to strive to be connected to God through a spiritual line (the Holy Ghost) through the grace of God, but I also have understood that everything else is just details. I have understood that there is certainty in the ideal - in the ultimate end - in the foundation principles, but I also have understood that everything we see and believe and extrapolate and conjecture and assume is subject to "further light and knowledge" - that even with more light and knowledge, we still see through our glasses, darkly.
My eiphany is that I am comfortable living in my own "dark night" that is similar in practical result as Andrew's (one that is not cut off from God but simply cut off from certainty about the details) but that came about quite differently than his did for him. I have lived there for as long as I can remember. I have never believed in the certainty that he describes prior to his own dark night, so I have never felt abandoned by its loss. My "dark night" appears "light" to me, because I have never believed I see things clearly and completely. I just see them as clearly as I am capable of seeing them - which I understand and accept as darkly. I have never been shaken by doubt of detail, because my testimony has never been founded on certainty of detail. There are things I feel completely comfortable saying I "know" for myself, but I have never felt like anyone else had to "know" anything with certainty to enjoy the fruits of the Restoration.
I return to the scripture I mentioned above - I Cor. 13:9-13. In full text, it reads:
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
I believe I know in part, and I believe our prophets prophecy in part. I believe that will change someday, but I have no idea when that will be. There was a time, prior to my first reading of the Book of Mormon, when I thought as a child - that everything was black and white and I could know it all; I put away that belief at a very early age. I believe I see through my own glass, darkly and, therefore, only in part; I believe someday I will know fully.
Verse 8 is the bridge between the characteristics of charity and the outlook charity provides. It says:
Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
Given this perspective, I live now with faith and hope that I will understand and know more fully on an on-going basis as my future unfolds. The greatest thing I can do in the here and now, however, is to be charitable - to obtain the characteristics in 1 Cor. 13:4-7 and allow them to grow within me and change me into the type of person who can accept both my own perceptual limitations and wherever others are in their own spiritual maturation process.
I am certain of many things, but those things are principles - not details. Radical changes in policy and even "doctrine" don't shake me, since I have never based my testimony on those things. I believe firmly and deeply in the PRINCIPLE of ongoing-revelation and charity exercised in how I view others - that what I believe now differs from what I believed as a youth and young adult - that what I believe now differs from what I will believe in the future. I believe that the charity God gave me as a youth will not fail me, even as prophecies and tongues and knowledge fail all around me. In my youth, this was an unconsciously proactive embrace of the core concept embedded in the dark night; in my adulthood, it is a light shining in darkness. I like to think of it as the extended Bright Night of My Soul.
There is a beautiful anniversary tribute at the following link:
I met my wife 26 years ago today - June 14, 1982. I was 16; she was 15. I felt that she was my "split-apart" within two days of meeting her - and that was something I never expected or believed could happen. It was exactly like re-establishing a relationship with a best friend you haven't seen for years. I knew within a week that I would marry her - no doubts whatsoever. Once she turned 16, I never dated anyone else. We were engaged prior to my mission and her senior year in high school - and I mean a real engagement with an actual engagement ring. We married less than 2 months after I returned from
We have never fought - truly fought; we have never yelled at each other; we have disagreed and had to work through disappointment and hurt feelings, but there hasn't been one moment in the last 21 years when I questioned whether or not we would be together forever - whether or not I wanted to stay with her. Not once, since that would mean losing half of who I am.
Literally, she is the half that makes me whole - the heaven I also aspire to achieve.
I posted something months ago - one of the first posts on my then new blog. If you want to read the entire thing, here is the link. (Sleep is Over-Rated) The most relevant paragraph for this thread is the following:
Eternal marriage and family mean just a little more to me at this moment, since I have caught a tiny glimpse of isolated immortality, living as half the whole she and I are meant to be. If I can’t handle each night we are apart, I can’t fathom living endlessly without her – feeling alone in a vast cosmos – sleeping in a great and spacious hotel – forever, fitfully alone. I want to live on with my arm around her – in a universe surrounded by our children – even if that means I only get a little edge of it as my own and never get enough sleep.
** I think the "traditional version" shouldn't be the default we teach for all from the earliest years of their lives. As I've said, I have no problem with the "details" of that approach; my post is more about realizing that we can "repent" (change) in a very real and empowering way even when we aren't out there committing egregious sins - IF we redefine repentance to what it says in our scriptures - "change" from the "natural man" to the "Christ-like man" that is described in the Sermon on the Mount (and other places). Suppression says, essentially, that I will be a more controlled version of me; replacement says, essentially, that I will become someone new. That should be the default we teach, with the "steps version" reserved for those who need that type of checklist to follow.
Let me give you a sales analogy:
When I was a sales manager, one of the most difficult challenges I faced when training salespeople was getting them to move past the strict formula of identifying the steps of the sales cycle (the traditional pipeline progression that moved a prospect along an established line from 10% to 100%) to the point where they could realize that many people are ready to jump straight to 40-60% after the first meeting - and 100% very quickly after that. They were ready to make an immediate change, and it was OK to go ahead and have them "forsake their previous mistakes" by changing their actions immediately - rather than have to force them step-by-step through the "classic", generalized sales cycle. I have seen more sales lost in a normally long sales cycle by salespeople who moved too slowly and cautiously than by just about any other pattern. The key is NOT to force them to square one then through each and every step, but rather to identify where they actually are and move them forward to change from there.
(There is a missionary analogy in there, but I will skip it here.)
Likewise, most school districts that didn't buy from us chose to do that NOT because they didn't have the financial ability but rather because they didn't have the political ability to focus on identified best practices and make the instructional and spending changes necessary to implement what we were selling. Rather, they were stuck in the mire of trying to change their results while continuing to perform the same activities - by applying more pressure on their teachers and administrators to do what they already were doing better. They were trying to suppress the problem within their current system, rather than building an environment more conducive to learning - especially by applying new technologies and teaching methods that would have eliminated multiple educational problems simultaneously.
I know this is not a perfect analogy, but it highlights the same basic point: That suppression rarely works long-term for things that have not reached the level of deeply embedded addictions (where suppression might be the only option), and the constant need for suppression often brings resignation and giving up on one's self - especially when each occurrence is seen as "sin" or "failure".
This approach focuses specifically on acquiring the characteristics outlined by Jesus (and the apostles and prophets) as the means of changing our nature. I know Christian theologians have spoken of this in general terms, but the “practical motivation” for Mormons is literally the growth necessary to become like God. It’s not “simply” an emulative process of praise; it’s a developmental process of receiving His true glory.
Based on my own study and discussions with Protestant friends over the years, I suspect many of them (and especially their ministers) would find this approach blasphemous - since it says there is a way for our own decisions and actions to play a large part in transforming us into gods. My response is that such an approach is totally consistent with the Bible admonitions and is, in fact, the central message of the Bible, but they don’t see it that way - at all.
I DO AGREE, however, that the terminology I use sounds quite familiar to Protestants - more so than to many Mormons who were raised with the “steps of repentance”. I don’t disagree at all with the idea behind the steps approach; I simply believe that most of those steps happen almost simultaneously - so focusing on them one-by-one sometimes ends up feeling artificial and forced - and that it usually makes the process much, much longer than it needs to be in order to reach the final “step”. The “rethinking” part really is just focusing on the classic “last step” right from the start - **being PROACTIVE in the process of change rather than REACTIVE to the occurrence of sin**. I believe developing the characteristics of godhood will eliminate future sin from our lives in ways that reactively working through a 12-step program simply can’t do.
In other words, “repentance” in this approach means change of NATURE, not just change of ACTION - and that really is a “fresh view” (as worded in the Bible Dictionary).
Let me make this clear: I should reword the post to make it clear that there is a place for the “steps” version of repentance - particularly when we are discussing sins that have inflicted real harm on others and that have become habitualized. If someone truly is like an alcoholic (addict) and needs the more structured “program”, I cannot deny the power of a 12-step program. Those who are not like alcoholics (addicts) in this regard, however, generally feel out of place in such meetings, where public confession and sponsorship are so critical.
“In a general sense, I don’t think anyone can ever fully repent in this life (”total transformation”).” [comment by a friend of mine]
I used to think so, but I’m not so sure anymore. I wish I had started this process in my childhood, since that would have given me multiple decades to work on it in this manner. I have a LONG way to go, but I can say honestly that I believe I have progressed more in this regard in the last 5 months than in the 10-15 years prior to this year. It is amazing what happens when you really focus on one characteristic intensely - even if it is only for a month at a time, like it has been in my resolution. I really look forward to continuing this effort.
I am beginning to view repentance on a characteristic-by-characteristic basis - that, with real prayer, study and sincere effort, I really can become perfectly (completely and wholly) poor in spirit, and meek, and merciful, etc. Perhaps I will never reach “total perfection” (”full repentance”) in this life, but I am less sure it is impossible than I was last year. Can I ever become “mistake-free”? I doubt it, but that’s not the pure definition of “perfect” in the first place, since the Atonement covers our transgressions wrought by the Fall - along with the mistakes caused by it.
I’m beginning to believe that Matthew 5:48 is more than just a nice platitude - a worthy goal for which to strive. I’m beginning to wonder if it really is an attainable commandment.