Customer Reviews

Leaving the Saints: How I Lost the Mormons and Found My Faith

5 star:		(95)
4 star:		(31)
3 star:		(22)
2 star:		(20)
1 star:		(50)

 

 

By the top of page 4, I knew who Martha is and who her father was. I was raised in the church and served a mission to Japan in the late 1970s with one of Martha's brothers.

Martha's book is the most honest and even-handed account of the church and its doctrinal dilemmas I have ever come across. Most accounts are either for or against the church and seek only to destroy other viewpoints. I didn't get that feeling from Martha's account at all. It's clear that most of those condemning this book haven't read it. Ignore them and read it yourself.

I grew up reading every LDS Church book I could get my hands on. I pored over them, practically memorized some of them, and read the Book of Mormon and other scriptures daily and prayed with all my heart. I was the kid who always loved to go to church; no one had to drag me there. After a great deal of soul-searching over many years, I left the LDS church about 20 years ago, at the age of 27. I didn't experience the kind of sexual abuse Martha went through, and my heart goes out to all who have suffered so, but I could relate 100% to her descriptions of the Church, the doctrines, the good people who try so hard to be perfect, the yearning for God, the incredible mental efforts to try to make sense out of the nonsense, the secrecy and obsession with control of the leadership. I'll never forget how disappointed I felt when I first put on the temple garments and went through the endowment ceremony at the Oakland Temple.

I first became aware of certain issues about unsavory behavior by some of the leadership while on my mission, and it left a terrible taste in my mouth. I know we are all human and have weaknesses, but the problem is when religious institutions try to set up some people as infallible and not to be questioned (the Pope, the mullahs and ayatollahs, and the General Authorities all come to mind). I tried to make it all make sense, and I tried to forget that polygamy was the fate that awaits good Mormon women. I tried to forget the many little insults and debasements of Mormon women. Ultimately I could not ignore the evidence of my senses, my reasoning and my conscience. The greatest lessons that I learned from my years in the Church are ultimately what led me away: to listen to the still, small voice inside, to do what I knew was right no matter what others around me might say, and to open my heart and mind to unsuspected sources of joy and understanding. I can't say I've found as much certainty as Martha seems to have found, but I am certain that one of the smartest things I ever did was to leave the Church; I only wish I'd done it sooner. Much, much sooner. Martha's book has helped me to free myself from the last vestiges of regret. I miss the sense of community, yes, but I know that the Church is not the only place that can be found.

I've read some of the hate mail Martha has received on her site, www.leavingthesaints.com, and it doesn't reflect well on those people's personal religion. That is, spewing that kind of hate and intolerance is hardly a sign you are close to the divine. I know that most Mormons are very good, sincere people who try very hard to do what is right. I grew up among them, I was one of them, and many family members and extended family members are still very devout and no doubt think I'm beyond the pale because I left. I say, if it works for them, more power to them, but I could not continue in such a patriarchal, controlling, domineering environment where the truth must be whitewashed and carefully controlled. Thanks, Martha, for writing so eloquently and compassionately about your journey.

I have been a fan of Martha Beck's books for years. As a fortyish Unitarian mom, I felt she spoke straight to my heart and my funnybone. I recommended "Expecting Adam" to everyone I knew when it came out. "Finding Your Own North Star" was (and is) both useful and wonderfully readable.

If not for her trademark wicked humor (which I still love), this book and her website [...] might have been written by a different person. It's certainly possible that she was indeed molested by her father. Her readers are not in a position to know all the facts. The unkindness of waiting until her parents were in their nineties to air this situation so publicly and venomously, though, doesn't seem anything like the Martha I thought I knew from her previous writings.

The book, and especially the website, also reveal that many important facts were left out of both "Expecting Adam" and "Saints". These include Beck's husband's lifelong struggle to face his homosexuality and its effect on their marriage, their divorce during the events in "Saints", her personal journey ending in long-term happiness with another woman, and her new partner's professional interest in sexual abuse.

Of course, she has the right to have kept these facts private until now. However, it would only seem natural for them to have had at least some bearing on her state of mind when (a) the memories of abuse resurfaced and (b) she and her husband left a religion that sees homosexuality as pathological. (Paradoxically, while still married and members of the church, they wrote a book together on overcoming "compulsive" behavior, including homosexuality, through faith.) That all this was completely left out seems odd when so much other intimate detail is presented. It makes me wonder what else may have been left out of her books. Part of their appeal was that the reader felt that Martha truly opened up her life, doubts, faults, and all as she told of her experiences.

In my personal opinion, the Mormon church has a great deal to answer for its attitude toward both women and victims of sexual/domestic abuse. However, this book may end up unjustly weakening the case for others in such circumstances.

Martha Beck has built up an impressive life-coaching business with her books and appearances on Oprah. Writing this book now seems almost self-destructive.

I'm going to make this review annonymous, because I am a Mormon who is strongly considering leaving the church and I do not want any retalitation. I'm not ready for it yet.

This book was very interesting and I know that there is a lot of debate as to whether or not Martha is telling the truth about her father. I don't think anybody has any right to say whether she is telling the truth or not because no one was there except Martha and her father. Therefore the only two who truly know the truth are Martha and her father, and of course God. I can tell you that here where I live there was a big discussion one night after fireside about this book, and all the people at my church who are devout Mormons strongly accuse Martha Beck of being a liar. I asked them just casually if they had read her book. They all claimed they would never touch it. That's what made me (secretly of course) obtain a copy of her book and read it.

I'm glad that John Beck has not suffered any loss of friends or relationships because he left the church. But I can tell you that if indeed that is true, that John Beck has a had a very rare experience. The vast majority of Mormons who leave the church suffer a lot of judgement and loss of relationships. When you leave the church you are an apostate and according to Mormon doctrince, have no chance to get into heaven. It's only outer darkness for the apostate unless the ex-Mormon rejoins the church and gets re-baptized.

I am very confused because I know the evidence that Joseph Smith was a very deceitful con man is black and white. There is no arguing it. There is so much black and white evidence that very clearly shows the Mormon church as a false religion, and like all my friends and family, I used to turn a blind eye to all the evidence that scared me into realizing "maybe" the Mormon church really isn't true. Over time I have been able to look at the evidence more without being prejudice. It's just going to be hell on earth when I finally do reveal to my family and friends that I'm leaving the church. Everyone I know already believes that anyone who leaves the church has committed some horrible sin. But I haven't at all. I've never even broken the word of wisdom or the laws of chastity. I'm just not so stupid anymore as to believe in a religion that is so obviously false.

I hope I'm as brave as people like Martha Beck, John Beck, and Deboroh Laake. Until then, I'm remaining annonymous.

I have already reviewed Martha Beck's first book "Breaking Point" to which I allocated five stars. (I still maintain that it is one of the best books I have ever read.) In it, Beck addresses the paradoxical demands imposed on women by society, but emphasises the need for "honesty and compassion." However, after my initial gut reaction to "Leaving the Saints" I began to ask myself some hard questions about her radical change of heart. Those two qualities for which I admired her in "Breaking Point" seem to be absent in "Leaving the Saints."

In particular, Beck refers frequently to experiencing "the Light" which occurred during several NDE-like experiences and which immersed her in an infinitely accepting and unconditional love, irrespective of whatever wrongs she had ever committed. The first question for me was not concerning her father, but Beck herself - why was she unable, even years later, to show the same love for him that she had experienced herself. NDEs and other mystical experiences tend to result in a new compassion, even when there is much to forgive. But the conventional therapy that Beck went through (which addresses pathology rather than power) seemed to diminish rather than reinforce her experience of "the Light." In fact, I have serious concerns about the training and qualifications of the counsellors Beck consulted. Some of their actions were well outside the parameters of normal procedure.

In case you think I am just another armchair critic, I should say that I related very personally to what Martha Beck claims to have experienced. But the similarity ends there. My experience of healing from abuse is that it does not come from condemnation or retribution (especially public.) While this book may be valid as autobiography, it assumes an advisory role that is questionable. I can only urge women who have been abused to have the courage to reject personal retribution as an option. In the end it will prove an empty victory. Your pain has not robbed you of your power: it has only concealed it from you. Find someone who will help you rediscover it -but not at the expense of someone else.

Whether Beck's accusations are true or not (and she expresses doubt as to their validity herself) her unremitting anger means that more than a decade has passed without closure or healing. Take Beck's treatment of her father after all that time (I take it this event took place close to publication.) She conducted a five-hour interrogation of him - a 94 year old just out of hospital - in a hotel room. Would you do that to an elderly parent? He was not permitted an advocate to speak in his defence, while Beck had a number of women supporting her. How fair was that? And her description of his growing fatigue and confusion is derisive. Where was "the Light" in that hotel room? Or in her recounting the incident?

I decided that, in fairness, I should research all points of view on this book, and was challenged to find the family's response to be calm, loving and concerned, contrary to what is implied elsewhere. No counter attack at all. The formal response from Boyd Peterson (her brother-in-law) to be found on the FAIR website, is well-reasoned and fully referenced, but still deeply caring. I get the impression that all of the family - including Beck herself - are experiencing ongoing pain, which leaves me asking; has the book initiated healing - or prevented it?

It was also eye-opening - and disturbing - to see on her "Leaving the Saints" website that Martha Beck dismisses false memory syndrome as completely fabricated and the movement as having been begun by a paedophile. That is manifestly untrue, and it is totally unprofessional for an academic researcher to smear the opposition to prove her own argument. It is ad hominem argument of the worst kind. I am deeply saddened by the hate mail Beck received, but this does not justify her pejorative statements, which, by implication, denigrate authorities on memory distortion, like Emeritus professor, Elizabeth Loftus. It is damaging to victims of abuse and victims of false allegations alike. The latter do occur - as do false charges for every other crime on the legal calendar. That's why we have a justice system. I know several women who are victims of false sexual allegations, and as Richard Ofshe (also a sociologist) says, they suffer a "private agony" - a form of spiritual rape.

It is tragic that, in the ten years following Beck's first allegations, the family was unable to achieve private mediation and resolution. Not being a Mormon, and never having been one, I cannot make informed comment on the church issues; I'll have to leave that to Boyd Petersen's comprehensive response. But what is even more tragic is the fact that, by writing this book, Beck has taken her father to a public court without allowing him recourse to the defence he would have had in a court of law. That would have been far kinder. She did not even choose academic publication that would have been open to peer review - and the thoughtful scrutiny that would have involved. What is more, she has virtually undressed her family in public. Surely there was a better answer - for Martha Beck as well as her family - than her book "Leaving the Saints." I sincerely hope they find it.

I found Martha Beck's book to be extraordinarily brave and salve to those of us who were independent thinkers growing up in this strangely out-of-touch community. What continues to amaze me is that people like Martha, with whom my brother and I went to school, growing up in a household so mired in the fantasies of the mormon church, are able to break out at all. My family was not and has never been mormon, but I grew up in Provo -- from elementary through high school and I am intimately familiar with the culture, and it IS as weird as she describes. Because my family was assaulted from all sides -- from teachers to friends' families to strangers -- trying to convert us, in high school I finally decided to arm myself with knowledge. I am as well-versed in mormon history and doctrine as most mormons and more so than many.

Martha Beck's portrayals of mormon history is accurate, her portrayal of the overall mormon community of Provo is absolutely accurate; she is able to perfectly describe the sense of piousness, cronyism and meanness that is abundant and especially felt by anyone who isn't "part of the flock." I also absolutely believe that Martha's abuse took place, because I've known too many Utah mormons from especially religious (and even polygamous)homes who have also had bizarre and twisted things happen to them in the name of religion. Also, Martha's remembrance of her abuse comes BEFORE she sees a therapist, thereby eliminating any possibilities of suggestion and there is also physical proof that this happened to her.

While reading this book I've re-examined how I've always felt about growing up in Provo as a non-mormon. I used to think that was difficult, but I can't imagine that such horrific things were going on in some of those mormon homes that I used to want to be a part of so much. Because of Martha Beck's book I feel so much gratitude for my family and the way I was raised with love, a strong sense of our European heritage, and open expressions of love.

I hope that because of Martha's book and others, people who feel repressed and who are abused can gain the strength to stand up for what is right and can actually say that the emperor is wearing no clothes.

Reading this book elicited a lot of strong emotions in me: compassion (for the author's plights), anger (at her family and at Mormon officials), amazement (at some of the things I learned about Mormonism), happiness (at the author's ability to find peace).

Mormonism is unique among religions in that many of its claims are disprovable, and I've often wondered how an intelligent person could tolerate the cognitive dissonance that must arise when trying to live authentically yet still practice Mormonism. Ms. Beck is clearly highly intelligent and she basically concludes that she CAN'T handle this dissonance any longer. It's fascinating to read about her discoveries and her processes.

As for the sexual-abuse claims: They ring true to me. Even if one tends to doubt recovered memories, I can't think of any reason why the author would invent the corroborating evidence, i.e., her scarring and the related memories that she had always had (such as bleeding between her thighs as a child). Why would she voluntarily subject herself to so much scorn from her family and the Mormon community, unless she really did need to release herself from the burden of her secret?

The book feels authentic to me and is exceptionally well-written. Despite the many troubling issues addressed, it is ultimately inspirational, because the author finds peace within herself and, along the way, helps to convey to us readers how we, too, can find peace.

I highly recommend this book.

I adore Martha Beck. I pre-ordered Finding Your North Star, the Joy Diet, and this book. I've been to one of her personal seminars (one, incidentally, that John sat in on for some time). I have a notebook filled with copies of most of the magazine articles she's ever written. If you asked me who I'd most like to have over for dinner, for the last few years she'd be on my top three. I've given away copies of Finding Your North Star and Expecting Adam. Of course I've read them multiple times.

I got to this book. And the tone just..was off. I mean, it was brutal. And there was the whole part about her dad sexually abusing her, and her forgiving him and this wasn't even the story. And that wasn't the brutal part! So you have this lovely (if dubious-I don't know, I have no idea if it happened or not) story of forgiveness and this tearing to shreds of Mormonism.

I've read everything I could get my hands on that Martha's written since Breaking Point at least three times. And I just couldn't get into this book a second time. There was bitterness in Expecting Adam, but there was redemption, too. I suppose I liked Martha's writing so much because I could sum it up in one word: love. That's what she was about. Or so I thought. But this book...take out the story of her dad, and it's about anger at best, hatred at worst.

I read John's review months ago. The part about him getting or seeing any of Martha's notes bothered me. That was the most disturbing part (to me) about his review. The other day, I found out why. In North Star, she tells the story of how much better she felt after she had her husband handle the hate mail. He says that he never saw any of it.

I believe him.

She's a fun writer--little twists of language and imagery that creates a wonderful voice. She brings up an important topic: child abuse perpetuated by unexpected persons, especially the ostensibly pious. My concern? Unreliable narrator. She stereotypes the Mormon community just as she stereotyped the Harvard community in her previous book --if I remember correctly, almost every Harvard character was intellectually insecure, overly demanding, rather cruel, and a bit out-of-sync with reality. In this book, the Mormons are similarly unreal--all sorts of exaggerations or falsehoods pepper the book. I attended Harvard, and have had extensive association with Mormons, and can say that her perception of each community is exaggerated at best, unreal at worst. I assume that she believes what she is saying--I just have to wonder if her reality exists. Therefore, her other accusations are suspect.

I didn't purchase this book to learn about the issue of child sexual abuse or about the author's coming to terms with incest at the hands of her father, the late Hugh Winder Nibley, an intellectual giant among contemporary Mormon theologians and one of that religion's most revered apologists. Rather, I was following up on an interest in certain of the more esoteric elements of Mormon eschatology. To make a long story short, it was not at all the book that I expected or wanted it to be, but it is surely one of the most powerfully moving works of spirituality that I have read in a very long while.

I doubt there will be many readers who will be able to complete this work without shedding a tear: for the barely imaginable pain that the author was put through as a child, for those countless, voiceless innocents similarly violated, for her tortured father and family (the former a likely victim of parental sexual abuse himself) and at Martha Beck's healing: miraculous, heart-warming, funny and determinedly compassionate to all involved in the events. There are no villains in "Leaving the Saints" save for one: the all-enveloping miasma of censorship, fear, physical and spiritual abuse, dissimulation and duplicity that are the hallmarks of a patriarchal, authoritarian, pathologicaly controlling creed convinced of its own sanctity, and willing to stop at nothing (even the lives and minds of its own children) to protect near-medieval privileges in its central Utah fiefdom.

When as a Harvard doctoral candidate Martha Beck's son Adam was born with Down's syndrome, she and her husband left Massachusetts for the support afforded her in Utah, her family's home, and the warm, accepting embrace of the Mormon community. Determined to assimilate back into her childhood faith after years of atheism, Martha's disenchantment resurfaced when censorship from church authorities heavily influenced the exercise of academic freedom at Brigham Young University where she taught part-time. More disturbing was her recovery of long-suppressed childhood memories that her father, a (perhaps it would be more correct to say, "the") intellectual center of gravity in the Mormon Church, had sexually molested her as a child.

"Leaving the Saints" describes in great detail how institutionalized religion can do horrific injury to some adherents while still being a force of good for others. It will undoubtedly anger faithful Mormons, satisfy disaffected former Mormons and offer hope for healing to those who believe they have suffered from ecclesiastically-tolerated (or in some cases ecclesiastically-sponsored) abuse. It is one of the most balanced books on Mormonism I have read, avoiding the formulaic condemnations of those injured by the faith and the blind, almost decerebrate, acceptance of Church teaching that is the hallmark of official LDS publications.

For all its grim, sometimes tragic, subject matter, this is not a book that leaves one sad. Rather, it is uplifting and filled with the sense of joy recovered and innocence restored that true healing brings. Martha Beck also brings to her writing a scintillating sense of humor which can have the reader both laughing and crying at the same time.

The LDS hierarchy has condemned Dr. Beck's book, as one would have expected of them, and have all but forbidden Church members to read it (along with nearly all other 'dissident' literature). It's painfully clear that most of those condemning this book haven't read it.

This is a work I unreservedly recommend to anyone with an interest in the realms of Mormon society and culture as well as in the realm of child abuse and its healing.

I was interested in this book when I first heard of it several months ago because of a similar background with Martha Beck. Like her, I grew up in Provo, Utah. Like her, my father was a professor at BYU, and a contemporary of her father. And, like her, I made my journey out of Mormonism.
Unlike her, however, I am not a particularly spiritual person. Nor did I suffer any sexual abuse as a child. However, much of what she writes has the ring of truth about it.
I have noted that her critics have picked on isolated statements in her book which, upon reading them in context, turn out to be literary hyperbole. The book is full of such hyperbole, and that is one of the things that makes reading it a pleasure.
Martha Beck is a gifted writer. If for no other reason than enjoying her use of the language, this book is worth the read.
However, it is also a useful book for a person of any religion, struggling with the beliefs with which they were raised.
In the end, this book is a positive book, and not nearly as critical of Mormonism as some of its defenders would like to believe. The book contains no information about Mormonism that wasn't already known to any serious student of the religion. And, her observations of Provo Mormon culture are right on the mark. (I lived in the same neighborhood as her husband, and am acquainted with his family.)
True Believing Mormons will marginalize this book by labeling it "anti-Mormon." Martha has broken the 11th Commandment; Thou shalt not commit publicity. Nonetheless, many people will benefit by reading the book.