 Joseph West is a PhD candidate in sociology at the University of Arizona. He has a bachelor's in philosophy from the University of Utah and a master's in sociology from the University of Arizona. His research focuses on religion, social networks, culture, and social movement mobilization. Joseph is a single dad of two children. He spends his spare time reading, watching movies, and enjoying good conversation, and he's a board member of the MTA. Can I close this computer? I'm a sociologist by training. This is not sociology this particular time. To my Mormon brothers and sisters, I wish to speak to those of you who are lost, the lost children of Mormonism. I see you, you camels and lions. I see how lost you are because I am lost with you. I wish to speak with you about wandering children in haunted forests, hiding from dragons and witches. And I wish to strategize with you about how we can find our way out of this lonesome wilderness. I once read of a prophet less known to our people, a prophet named Zarathustra, who spoke of three metamorphoses. I once read of a prophet less known to our people, a prophet named Zarathustra, who spoke of three metamorphoses of the spirit. How the spirit becomes a camel, and the camel a lion, and the lion finally a child. There is much that is difficult for the spirit, said Zarathustra. The strong reverent spirit that would bear much. The spirit that kneels down like a camel, wanting to be well loaded for her journey. This is the burden spoken of in our tradition by the prophet Alma, who spoke of bearing one another's burdens and standing as witnesses of God at all times so that we may have God's spirit to be with us. This is the weight that the camel gladly bears. But for Zarathustra, as within our shared tradition, the camel is not enough. An eternity of singing praises to Jesus as a servant is not the highest station that we Mormons are taught to aspire. We want more, and we believe that Christ wants more for us. We want to create for ourselves, and we believe that Christ wants us to create for ourselves. We want to become as the gods, and we believe that this is our destiny. And so taking the burden on its back, the camel speeds into the desert, thus the spirit speeds into its desert. In the loneliest desert, however, the second metamorphosis occurs. Here the spirit becomes a lion who would conquer his freedom and be master in his own desert. Here he seeks out his last master. He wants to fight him and his last God for ultimate victory. He wants to fight with the great dragon. Who is the great dragon? Whom the spirit will no longer call Lord and God. Thou shalt is the name of the great dragon. But the spirit of the lion says, I will. Thou shalt lies in the way, sparkling like gold, an animal covered with scales, and on every scale shines a golden thou shalt. Values, thousands of years old, shine on these scales and thus speaks the mightiest of all dragons. All value of all things shines on me. All value has long been created, and I am all value. The lion is needed for the creation of freedom for oneself and a sacred no, even to duty. The lion is needed to assume the right to new values, but the lion cannot create these new values and therefore a third metamorphosis occurs when the lion becomes a child. The child is innocent and forgetting, a new beginning, a game, a self-propelled wheel, a first movement, a sacred yes. For the game of creation, my brothers and sisters, a sacred yes is needed. The spirit now wills her own will, and she who had been lost to the world now conquers her own world. Becoming the child is the end of the vision of Zarathustra. However, our prophet Joseph had even greater vision than that of Zarathustra. For Joseph saw beyond the child as the creator of values and saw to the time when the child would grow up and become the creator of worlds without end. It is to this destiny that we should aspire, and it is to this destiny that we can still aspire. But alas, we are lost, we are camels and lions, most of us wandering and lost. The burden to camel bears can be a great one. Our prophet Joseph endowed us with great burdens worthy of our strength and filled with tools we could later use to build the kingdom in the loneliest desert. But when the dragon saw the content of the treasures we were carrying, it chased us into the loneliest desert. There we attempted to use the treasures we had carried and build a temple to our God. But before we could finish the dragon found us and took away what our prophet had given us to carry. In our beginnings, we are a radical people. At its roots, Mormonism is characterized by a radical willingness to create alternative family and social structures, alternative modes of economic exchange, and challenging new belief systems that commit the grave heresy of teaching us we can become as the gods. When we traveled into the desert, this is the heritage that we carried on our backs. And for the great dragon, chasing us away was not enough, and so he descended upon us. This monster, whose great power was predicated upon the dispossession of the lands of indigenous peoples, the enslavement of African peoples, and the subjugation of women, a truly terrifying monster. We were mesmerized by the power of this great dragon, who we accepted when he shackled us with old burdens that we did not set out to carry. The lost camels are those among us who have come to reflect the image of the dragon and accepted as their own identity, the Neo-Orthodox. In a kind of twisted communal Stockholm syndrome, we have come to love that which took our heritage from us. We have come to be a great pillar of support for the very institutions and social structures from which Joseph was trying to free us. Instead of representing radical attempts at reorganizing family life, we are the poster children for heterosexual monogamy. Instead of representing radical attempts at innovating alternative modes of economic exchange, we are the poster children for American capitalism. With feigned intentions about the best interest of children and families, we impose discriminatory policies that tear families apart. With pompous arrogance and from the comfort of big purple chairs, we proclaim falsehoods about the nature of gender and sexual identity, and we do this to justify our stance that those who do not conform to the great dragons, hetero and mononormative standards must surely be banned from covenanting with each other in our sacred temples. We persist in claiming that no woman can be called to the highest offices of government within our church. We continue to deny women what was promised to them by our prophet Joseph. Feminine power still scares us and is therefore still cast out from among us. It scares us so much in fact that we've established a modern form of witch burning as a collective ritual that occurs in observable approximate decennial patterns. 1979, Sonia Johnson, 1993, September 6th, 2004, Margaret Toscano, 2014, Kate Kelly, and these are just the highlights. Because we cast her out, the divine power of the sacred feminine eludes us. To us she is the witch in the woods, a symbol of power to be feared. But we must seek her out again. We must face her and ask her forgiveness and beg her help in finding our way through this wilderness. For if she is persuaded, she can tell us of the secrets that will enable us to reclaim our heritage. The lost lions are the ex-Mormons, the post-Mormons, the liberal Mormons. In their anger, they have destroyed the burdens the camel carries, but it has come at a great cost. Lions are adolescent. They seek new identity, but can only strive for that new identity through the negation of the old identity. The ugliness of the lion's snarl is often transparent self-loathing of one who cannot find it within themselves to love the person that they used to be. This self-loathing often comes out as aggression and violence towards the camel, but this aggression is misdirected. Our future liberation from this wandering loneliness requires that the lion focus its aggressive energy not upon the camel but upon the real enemy, the dragon. For this to happen, the lion like the camel also needs the help of the sacred feminine. The witch and priestess who has been cast out is sustained by the wilderness. She has become one with nature and has the power to tame the lion and feed the camel and show both wretched creatures the path out of the woods. She has the power to help those with faith transform again and become the child. She is the mother of the child and the one who will watch over the child as the child grows and learns to use its creative powers. Please, I ask you, fellow camels and lions, join me in my quest to find the great witch in these dark woods. I'm tired of wandering alone.