I had a great discussion with my mother a few days ago (she’s a true believing Mormon) about the difference between faith and testimony in Mormon theology, and I’ve been mulling around some thoughts about it ever since.
“Testimony,” as commonly used by Mormons, is an unfortunate term. It’s an umbrella term, a thought-construct composed of several different distinct but related concepts, but they’re all blurred together into one conglomerate noun in the Mormon vernacular. When the Holy Ghost bears witness of the truth of x, a Mormon calls that your testimony. When you tell others the religious things you believe or “know,” that’s also your testimony. Those two I can handle, but the third main use is the most vague and elusive, and the one least based in (even Mormon) scripture and theology. It’s this idea that a testiony is a thing, a noun, an intangible object that you actually have and need to nurture and work on so it grows.
It’s not the same thing as Faith, which is given some pretty clear and basically consistent definitions in the New Testament and the Book of Mormon. Paul (or whoever wrote Hebrews) said “faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” (NIV). In the Book of Mormon, Alma said faith “is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true,” and Moroni said faith is “things which are hoped for and not seen.” None of those are really the same thing that Mormons are talking about when they talk about their testimony. Testimony is the assurance of the truth of Mormonism via mystical experiences.
Faith is consistently couched in terms like “hope.” Your testimony is the things you know. You might talk about faith in terms of certainty, but you would never describe a testimony using the word “hope.” Sure, the terms are similar, but they’re not identical.
In Mormon theology, such as it is, the requirments for salvation are faith, repentance, baptism, the gift of the holy ghost, and enduring to the end (which includes getting the necessary ordinances and priesthood, and continuing to develop faith, repent of sins, and renew your baptismal covenant by taking the sacrament). Testimony per se is not a requirement for the Celestial Kingdom. There’s not testimony checker at the pearly gates. Nevertheless, Mormons constantly talk about the necessity of having a testimony, as if it is basically the most important thing in Mormonism.
It has no real connected place in Mormon theology, so why is it necessary? All of the critical steps (the principles and ordinances of the gospel) for salvation are obtainable without ever once feeling the Holy Ghost, much less Getting a Testimony.
There’s a weird inconsistency yhere that bothers me. Basically, what it boils down to is that Mormonism in practice focuses almost obsessively on the need for the individual to experience successive, ongoing conversion experiences. No wonder Mormons are able to simply ignore their doubts and criticisms of the church that they hear! They are spending their time and effort constantly converting themselves. Why? I think it’s because without constant conversion-as-reinforcement, Mormonism doesn’t really hold up to scrutiny. Testimony may not actually be a requirement for salvation in Mormonism, but if you aren’t constantly cultivating mystical confirmations of the Church’s truth, you’re far less likely to stay a member of a Church that is heavy-handed, authoritarian, wildly implausible, and extremely demanding.
I don’t really believe there is such a thing as “having a testimony.” I think that you can experience God through the Holy Spirit, and I think you can yourself bear witness to things you believe are true, but as far as this nebulous thing that you have, I think it’s a mental and cultural construct with no real existence. It’s a doublespeak term tat obscures what’s going on. Faith is something that you have. Testimony is something you hear or give.
Given that opinion, why then does it bother me when people say I must not have ever really had a testimony, seeing as how I left the Church. I mean, if I don;t believe that testimony exists, at least the way they’re talking about it, why do I care if they say I never had one? Again, it comes down to the nebulous doublespeak use of the term. When someone says I never had a testimony, they’re actually questioning whether I ever was really ommitted to the Church, and that pisses me off. I was raised in the Church, and I was a faithful member. I scrupulously tried to keep the commandments. I graduated from early morning seminary. I served an honorable mission and I worked incredibly hard, both physically and spiritually. I read the Book of Mormon again and again, not as a skeptic, but as an earnest believer. I married in the temple, which took great personal sacrifices on my part and on my wife’s part. I always paid a full tithe, and I gave generous fast offerings. I magnified my callings. I prayed daily. When doubts came, I did my best to resolve them. I tried to me a member-missionary, and I even tried my best to do my home teaching. I did everything I was supposed to do to “get a testimony,” and I did it with pure intentions, because I honestly thought it was all the right thing to do.
The Church promises that if you do this stuff, you’ll Get A Testimony. Thus, when people say I must not have had a testimony, they are insinuating that I never did the things that were required to get one, and that impugns my integrity and my earnestness, and that bothers me a lot.
I have to say that I believe that the Church is simply not true, at least it is not true the way it claims to be. It may be a fine place for some people, but it is certainly not God’s one true church, restored in these latter days in preparation for the second coming, led by living prophets, etc. I have no problem with people disagreeing with me, but I do have a problem with people assuming that the only reason I came to the conclusion I did is that I wasn’t really genuinely committed and faithful in the first place. That’s just insulting.
Sailing to Byzantium 
Speaking only for myself, as an evangelical Christian, a “testimony” is nothing more than a description of questions answered by God through transforming experiences that inspires others to ask the same questions. As such, I can say that your testimony is greater than you will ever know.
Kullervo, thanks for explaining why it bothers you when someone says ‘well, you must not have had a testimony then.’ It has bothered me too, but I haven’t been able to put my finger on why until now. I think you hit the nail on the head there.
The nebulous form of testimony that you refer to is the collection of feelings and beliefs that tend to attach you to Mormonism. It is a mental state, like feelings of love for example. In that sense, it is just as real as love. Mormons attribute those feelings and beliefs to the Holy Spirit. They attribute the loss of those feelings and beliefs to the action of Satan. It’s a measure of how devoted you are. The primary function of this state of mind is to keep you loyal and active. Testimony meeting, like so many other things in the church, is a form of mind control.
I almost commented on this last week, but then work got busy and I lost my free time.
I think I see why you feel insulted when people say you never had a “testimony” in the first place. But I don’t think it necessarily is an indictment of your sincerity. Lots of people have sincerely done all of those things without an “answer.” I know; I’m one of them. Those comments merely strike me as evidencing the incomplete comprehension of personal conviction on the part of the speakers.
Another comment: In other cultures and languages, the notion of “testimony” is different than the one you or I would be familiar with. For example, in Spanish the same word is used for “witness.” So the Mormon concept of testimony in Spanish-speaking cultures frequently uses the same nomenclature as other Christian denominations. The two groups seem to use the word somewhat different at times, but the meanings are much closer together.
Interesting observation, Peter. I had never thought about it, but in Japanese “Akashi” is only something you bear, not something you have. They usually just say “shinko” (faith) when they talk about your belief or commitment.
But the language affects the way we think about it. Regardless of how it’s expressed in other languages, in the English-speaking Church (and incidentally, in the German-speaking Church), people talk about it as (among other things) a thing that you have.
Alma teaches that faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things. A perfect knowledge supposedly comes from the “swelling motions” we sense when contemplating the ideas for which we “hope” to find in God or attributes that we “desire to believe” that he has. These would be, justice, mercy, a resurrection, pure love, good triumphs over evil and so foth.
The third part of the whole thing is that the things that we hope for must be true in order to have these “swelling motions” which give us our testimony. Once we experience these feelings, our faith is dormant and our knowledge is perfect and we then have a testimony.
For me, there are several problems that I encounter with this line of logic. First, I have had these “swelling motions” when beautiful music is played, when I sing the national anthem at a football game, while watching the end of Miracle on 34th Street or in many other experiences I’ve had over my life. Humans seem to have evolved a “group think” or “group response” trait that is universally experienced over a broad spectrum of events. Think of Hitler’s clever use of these traits to enthrall the German people prior to the Second World War.
Second, I am only supposed to experience these “swelling motions” when the seed is good and those feelings tell me that the thing I am considering is good. I don’t think that that is always the case in the experiences we have that we base our testimonies upon. I can recall a youth conference that I got up and walked out of because it felt like my emotions were being played with rather than my intellect being taught.
Third, the hope that I am supposed to have in God’s attributes often leaves me when I see the awful things that happen upon the earth that are done by one human to another. I am asking myself; “Is God just?” I can only have a hope in him and faith if he is so.
There seems to be so many innocents that are suffering and there seems to be so much terror and horror in the world that we are forced to take the point of view expressed by Bruce R. McKonkie that this life is a form of judgement from our previous experiences in the pre-existence. I really find that hard to accept and dangerous because we then seem to justify human suffering as a kind of “karmic retribution” for our behaviour in the premortal world. This was the excuse of the church for years with the Blacks and the Priesthood.
I am not sure anymore what a testimony is to me. I think that I want to beleive in God and that he is just. I often don’t feel that I see him being that way in this tragic world and I am pressed to have the hope that Alma spoke of.
“Hope. Pandora brought the jar with the evils and opened it. It was the gods’ gift to man, on the outside a beautiful, enticing gift, called the “lucky jar.” Then all the evils, those lively, winged beings, flew out of it. Since that time, they roam around and do harm to men by day and night. One single evil had not yet slipped out of the jar. As Zeus had wished, Pandora slammed the top down and it remained inside. So now man has the lucky jar in his house forever and thinks the world of the treasure. It is at his service; he reaches for it when he fancies it. For he does not know that that jar which Pandora brought was the jar of evils, and he takes the remaining evil for the greatest worldly good–it is hope, for Zeus did not want man to throw his life away, no matter how much the other evils might torment him, but rather to go on letting himself be tormented anew. To that end, he gives man hope. In truth, it is the most evil of evils because it prolongs man’s torment.”
I agree with what you’ve written about feelings you get when someone tells you they think you must not have ever really had a testimony. It IS said with an implication that you’ve not done all those things THEY do to have such a testimony. Righteous things. They may as well just say out loud that you have not been rigteous enough, because we all know from what we’ve been taught in church that all we need to do is be righteous and our testimony will be strong.
Ugh.
So the question is: do you direct your anger/irritation over this assumption toward the people who actually say that to you, or toward the church that perpetuates this mindset in its faithful membership?
Both. It’s insensitive and pig-headed crap coming from individuals, but at the same time, it’s pretty much the most reasonable response to the LDS dilemma. If you had a “testimony,” why would you leave the church? It doesn’t makes sense to the average believer, so they have to either 1) accept the possibility that they are wrong, 2) deal with the paradox, or 3) put you in some box that explains why you left. The commandments were too hard, you committed adultery, you were prideful and offended, you were blinded by worldly knowledge, or you never had a testimony in the first place.
But since you are promised by LDS scripture and doctrine that if you do all the right things you will get a testimony, “not having a testimony” necessarily implies not having done all the right things and tried hard enough. Either that or LDS scripture and doctrine is wrong. Unless, again, the individual can live with the paradox.
In any case, I’m angry at both the individual’s ignorant allegation, but I’m more angry at the institution that sets things up so that the ignorant allegation is the most reasonable conclusion.
Here are the things I have decided on which I base my faith upon, Byzantium:
1. Justice and mercy for all of the human family.
2. That the filial relationships present in this life are eternal and that love never ends.
3. A literal physical resurrection.
All other parts of religion are trappings. If we seek justice and mercy for all of our earthly brothers and sisters we will be acting in accordance with what Christ taught. If God is love the the filial relationships that exist upon this earth that are our greatest sources of joy (and pain) will continue in the eternities. Finally, we hope for a resurrection. We trust that Christ’s atonement is for all mankind and that we will live again.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints may have irritating members who do not seem to have to think about things so deeply. People may come and question your righteousness because you doubt. Consider the Book of Job. Contemplate the role of hope in your life and realize that it truly is the gift that compels us to act and make this world a better place. Those who are spiritually immature or have not had cause to consider these types of things may one day go through the same questions with which you are struggling.
I have been hanging on myself and this little blog gave me the opportunity to consider what it is that I find important in my faith in God. You say you want to believe in God. Hold on to the things that you find you need from God that only can come from him and base your faith upon them and use those things as the foundation with which to build your testimony upon.
I find as I shed my belief in God, I don’t focus so much on hoping he’ll treat me and others with justice or mercy. Rather, I focus on those people around me who are also struggling for survival the same as you and me. I find I don’t need hope to be happy or find meaning for why I do what I do. I simply exist, and allow others the same privilege, without worrying so much if I’m pleasing some faceless divinity or whether others are doing so as well. If someone needs me, I help. Not because I hope my god will see it, and note it, but because that’s who I am, and what I do.
I don’t feel hopeless, because I’m actually living my life the best I can, because that’s what makes the most sense to me. The church would have me focus my eye entirely on God, his expectations of me, and the eternal reward (or punishment) that awaits me according to how well I played his game, and which hoops I jumped through correctly. I’d rather just focus on people and enjoy them for who they are, and do my best to make this life a better one for those around me. I don’t do so just because Jesus or some other man told me I should. I do it because it makes sense to do so, and if each person on earth did the same, we’d have a much better world to live in.
Sister Mary Lisa,
I understand where you are coming from. I re-read my previous post and don’t think I made any intimations of punishment or reward. My hope, or my faith should inspire me to act out of charity (the pure love of Christ). Charity means desiring whatever it is that is best for those with whom we come into contact.
The major reason I continue to believe as I do is my second reason. Micheal Martin Murphy put it in a song that I like very much.
What’s Forever For?
I’ve been looking at people
And how they change with the times
And lately all I’ve been seeing are people
Throwing love away and losing their minds
Maybe it’s me who’s gone crazy
But I can’t understand why
All these lovers keep hurting each other
When good love is so hard to come by
So what’s the glory in living
Doesn’t anybody ever stay together anymore
And if love never lasts forever
Tell me what’s forever for
And I see love hungry people
Tryin’ their best to survive
When right there in their hands
Is a dying romance
And they’re not even trying to keep it alive
So, what’s the glory in living
Doesn’t anybody ever stay together anymore
And if love never lasts forever
Tell me what’s forever for
So what’s the glory in living
Doesn’t anybody ever stay together anymore
And if love never lasts forever
Tell me what’s forever for
Even if this life is all there is, my viewing filial relationships, love and concern with the “long view” creates a love that lasts as long as my genetic line lasts and is passed on by my offspring.