My Temple Experience

I want to share a little bit about my experience going through a Mormon temple. Specifically, I’m going to talk about the expectations that were set up from a young age, what it was like the first few times I went, and how I eventually lost my faith in temple worship overall.

I grew up in northern Utah. My parents were LDS, so I was a child of the covenant. I was baptized at eight and raised in church culture—Boy Scouts, Young Men’s, seminary, a mission. Basically the typical path you’d expect from a Mormon boy.

The point I want to make is that the decision to attend the temple wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment choice. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to go. At least not in my experience. I was born into the church, started attending Primary, and from that point on, I was told I’d get baptized, receive the Aaronic priesthood, receive the Melchizedek priesthood, and go through the temple. That message was repeated over and over from the time I was in Sunbeams until baptism at eight. Baptism, priesthood, temple. Over and over.

When I was baptized, the next step was laid out immediately. Congratulations, now you’ll get the priesthood, then go through the temple. I was baptized in February, so there was snow everywhere. We drove up to the Logan Temple. I was wearing a winter coat—green on top, black on the bottom—holding my beanie. My mom took a picture of me in front of the temple. We printed it, put it in a frame, and next to it were the lyrics from the Primary song “I Love to See the Temple.” That picture stayed on my wall from the time I was eight until after my mission where it probably ended up in a box somewhere after I moved out.

That expectation—to go through the temple and make covenants with God—was present from the beginning. So when I got old enough to actually attend, it didn’t feel like a real decision. The only way I can explain it is that it felt as much like a choice as dropping out of high school. Some people have no problem not going. But for me, it was just the next step. Graduate high school, go through the temple, serve a mission. I knew technically it was a choice, but it never felt like one.

When I first went through, I actually enjoyed it. I didn’t really understand what was going on, which was probably why I liked it. You need to understand that in the Mormon church, worship is very Protestant. The hymns are slow and plain. There’s not a lot of physical ritual or symbolism. So when I went to the temple and suddenly I was wearing special clothes—robes, apron, hat—kneeling at an altar, performing symbolic rituals, it was new. There was a sense of mystery. There was something physical and symbolic happening that I hadn’t experienced before in my religious life. I liked it because it gave me something to think about. There was symbolism I could study. Layers to unpack. It felt like there was more to the church than I’d realized.

But that changed when I started going more often, especially during my mission. I was serving in Spokane, Washington, near the Spokane Temple, and we were encouraged to attend as often as possible. We had a set number of visits we could do. As I kept going, the novelty wore off. It stopped feeling fresh. That was when I realized that the only reason I had liked it was because the experience was new. The ceremony itself doesn’t change, you’re not learning anything new. Sure, there’s symbolism you can think about, but for the most part, it started to feel less like a spiritual experience and more like a way to keep me devoted to the church.

There were a few things that really started to bother me. One was the part in the temple video where Lucifer turns to the camera and says that if you don’t keep your covenants, you’ll be in his power. That line started to really bother me. It felt like a threat. Do I really need a direct threat from Satan to convince me to stay faithful? It didn’t feel right. It felt manipulative. Every time I went, I dreaded that line. It didn’t fit. It didn’t seem necessary. The only reason I could think of for including it was to scare people into staying obedient.

Another part that stood out was the covenant to give all of your time, talents, and abilities—not to God, but to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Some will argue that giving to the church is the same as giving to God. But if that’s the case, why not just say God? Why not make the covenant directly to him? That could be flipped just as easily. If giving to God means giving to the church, then giving to the church should mean giving to God. So why phrase it the way they do?

Those two things—the threat from Satan and the covenant to give everything to the church—are common sticking points for a lot of people. For me, they marked the shift. Temple worship started to feel less like a personal connection to God and more like a system designed to keep me in line.

That idea was reinforced by the temple recommend questions. Being temple-worthy is a constant theme in church meetings. Sacrament talks, Sunday School lessons, General Conference—they all emphasize being worthy to hold a temple recommend. But what does that really mean? Let’s look at a few of the questions.

Do you sustain the president of the Church as a prophet, seer, and revelator and the only person on earth authorized to exercise all priesthood keys? Do you sustain the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles? Do you sustain your local leaders? If you say no to any of these, you're not temple worthy. That’s not about your relationship with God. That’s about loyalty to leadership.

Do you support or promote any teachings or practices contrary to those of the Church? Are you a full tithe payer? Do you keep the covenants you made in the temple, including wearing the temple garments?

All of that reinforces the same message. Your worthiness in the eyes of God is measured by how devoted you are to the church. It’s not about how much faith you have. It’s not about your integrity or how you live your life. It’s about whether or not you follow the institution.

That just doesn’t sit right with me. Religion should be about you and God. Not you and the church.

So those are my thoughts. Maybe not as clear or polished as I’d like, but the temple experience is complicated. For some people, it’s the ritual that pushes them away. For others, it’s the symbolism that draws them in. Losing faith in the temple happens differently for everyone. For me, it wasn’t because it felt weird or cult-like. It was just the slow realization over time that there was a level of emotional manipulation I wasn’t okay with.