I grew up outside Utah, which means I grew up with a version of Mormonism most Wasatch Front Saints have never lived: church as a destination, not a condition. The chapel was miles away. My neighbors were not fellow ward members I saw every Sunday and worried about seeing all week — they were just neighbors, people my family got along with out of ordinary civility, with no ecclesiastical shadow hanging over the relationship. Whether they liked me had nothing to do with whether they'd been assigned to check on me.
Monday, July 13, 2026
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A Generated Essay on the Sermon on the Mount, First Pass
The Sermon on the Mount is not a cheat sheet for the afterlife. It is a blueprint for right now: how to see, how to treat people, and how to...
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Before she left town, a good friend told me that since I was a "nice boy," I should stay away from Skinny Puppy. I nevertheless wa... -
I wish there was a well written thriller about a conspiracy that works precisely because the institution it exploits is decent. Not corrupt ...
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Latter-day Saint history is a long record of adaptation and workarounds: the 1890 Manifesto, the shift from the United Order to tithing, the...