The Wilderness of Faith No. 3 in the Essays on Mormonism series Edited by John Sillito Signature Books, 1991. Paperback: 173 pages. ISBN: 1-56085-009-4 Suggested retail price: $10.95 (US)
Reviewed by: Jeff Needle

Note: Several boxes of Sunstone and Dialogue magazines arrived at Deseret Industries the other day, with a few books mixed into the collection. No surprise that I purchased the whole lot sight unseen. I'm reading the books first. This is one of them.

There are times when I feel as if my observations of Mormonism are a little like checking into a motel and finding the facility acceptable but none of the rooms terribly comfortable. The bed is too hard; the air conditioning doesn't work; the TV is fuzzy. If it isn't one thing, it's another.

The Wilderness of Faith is a superb collection of essays (many of which previously appeared in Sunstone or Dialogue) documenting the journeys of 15 residents of the Mormon Motel. Some have chosen to move on, others have stayed, still others have been asked to leave. But all find that their lives have been indelibly stamped with the Mormon way. Even those most disengaged bear to some degree the stigmata of the Restoration.

Each of the essays is superbly written. Some are rather clinically in style; others come straight from the heart. Scott Kenney bears his wounds with honor, while Levi Peterson displays a touching melancholy that only a true lover can express. And while Lavina Fielding Anderson wonders at the pain of exclusion, Linda Sillitoe clings to the glory that is Mormon womanhood and celebrates its achievements.

All familiar names? Indeed. What unites this collection is the deep yearning in each voice that life in the Church, and from the outside looking in, might have played out differently. The mood shifts from celebration to mourning to lament.

It is no secret that Mormonism brings with it something more than correct doctrine and divine authority. Mormonism evelops its people in a shroud of security and direction. Ed Firmage, in his insightful essay "Restoring the Church: Zion in the Nineteenth and Twenty-first Centuries," makes the wise observation that "the Mormon people and prophets sensed from the beginning that our religion would work only in community." (page 1) And for community to function, there must be a shared set of goals and values. Departure from these values can cause dissension and uncertainty in the community.

But as the Church matures and spreads into cultures foreign to Western mores, and as the ranks of the American Church swell with a more intelligent and thoughtful membership, the Church inevitably encounters those who would bring these goals and values under scrutiny. The Wilderness of Faith documents more than a dozen of the best and the brightest who, having raised some disturbing questions, have to varying degrees come to terms with their level of disengagement from the Church.

While some may not consider such essays "faith-promoting," I found their testimonies energizing. And they made me re-visit a question I've been asking about Mormonism for some time -- why does Mormonism continue to attract, and involve, the angry and the disappointed as well as the curious?

The answer lies beneath the surface of many of the essays -- whatever its flaws, the Mormon Motel is still where we all stay when our journeys bring us to thoughts spiritual. Not unlike the wounds on the hands of the Saviour, Mormonism stamps itself indelibly on everyone who spends more than a careless moment in its circle.

And maybe this isn't so bad. In the final essay, Susan B. Taber's wonderfully sorrowful "In Jeopardy Every Hour," we journey with her through the death of her young daughter, being assured at every step that all would be well, when all was manifestly not well. How to reconcile the conflict? Perhaps this is Mormonism's real genius -- providing this all-encompassing shroud of belonging, an emotional twine that binds together the disparate elements of hope and reality that affect all our lives.

Perhaps it's this cohesiveness of belief that still attracts even the most cynical of the essayists. Come what may, no matter what the detractors might say, they are, after all, Mormons. The whole of Mormonism is, after all, greater than the sum of its parts. Rejection of the parts does not mean rejection of the whole. Their life's journeys are still reflective of their Mormon identity, and will likely always be so.

The Wilderness of Faith is a readable and thought-provoking collection of essays by some very thoughtful people. It is highly recommended.