Normalize “I Believe” in LDS Testimony
In the context of Latter-Day Saint testimony meetings, the phrase “I know” has become pretty ubiquitous — it’s almost required to say at least one “I know” statement as part of your testimony. We don’t hear “I believe” or “I hope” said over the pulpit nearly as frequently as we hear “I know”.
We value certainty very much in our religion. We like having answers; we like knowing. As a church culture, we seem to have a fear, or at least a skepticism, of questions and uncertain statements. When it comes to bearing testimonies, it almost feels like we must say “I know” in order to keep people comfortable, or even just to avoid being seen as a “project”.
But I feel differently. To me, saying “I hope” actually sounds like a stronger testimony than saying “I know”. Somehow, “I hope” and “I believe” statements feel more sincere, more full of faith, more vulnerable, and more humble. It implies an acknowledgement of how far one has to reach a perfect knowledge, but still shows a willingness to get there. Personally, hearing “I have faith in” or “I hope” as part of someone’s testimony would give me chills — it feels much more powerful, yet earnest. Perhaps the Spirit would have a greater opportunity to testify in response to such a humble and honest expression of faith.
On the other hand, saying “I know” can suggest a feeling that one has already arrived at a perfect knowledge. It seems to say, “I don’t believe I will receive a more powerful witness of this principle in this life than the one I have already received.” While I do believe that some people can arrive at that level of knowledge about some things in specific cases, I don’t believe that it is all that common. At least, probably not common enough to justify the frequency with which we hear “I know” said over the pulpit.
There are two definitions of “knowing” in the Church, and we tend to mix them up
We need to acknowledge that within LDS culture and doctrine, the word “know” has two distinct meanings. One meaning signifies a deep conviction or confidence, while the other represents a state of absolute knowledge to the point that one has “faith no longer”. Most of us intend the first definition when bearing testimonies over the pulpit, but the way we say it often implies the second.
However, because our doctrine specifically separates “faith” from “knowledge” and even highlights the value of not knowing, I feel that it is important to reflect that in our speech.
Let’s look at the scriptures:
“Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith, ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true.” (Alma 32:21)
“And because of the knowledge of this man he could not be kept from beholding within the veil…and he had faith no longer, for he knew, nothing doubting.” (Ether 3:19–20)
“Now, as I said concerning faith — that it was not a perfect knowledge — even so it is with my words. Ye cannot know of their surety at first, unto perfection, any more than faith is a perfect knowledge.” (Alma 32:26)
“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)
Clearly, the difference between faith and knowledge is a matter of significance in scriptural text. Probably for good reason, too: when we don’t know something but choose to show faith in God anyway, that is when we experience the most growth. After all, the whole point of our mortality is to be tested and tried, to learn and grow — stuff that would be a bit hard to do if we had a perfect knowledge of the Gospel! Christ summed this up by saying: “Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.”
Saying “I hope” or “I have faith” reminds others that it’s okay to only have a seed of faith
When we get in the habit of frequently saying “I know”, we not only tell ourselves that we have already arrived, so to speak, but we also raise the pressure of testimony-bearing for others. It can make having a strong faith feel unattainable, especially to those whose who are spiritually struggling. The “I know” can feel like an extra barrier between a person and God, causing some to feel frustrated or even unworthy for not having been given capital-K Knowledge like everyone else seems to have been.
In fact, I would wager that most members of the church have hesitated, or will one day hesitate, to bear testimony because they aren’t sure they “know”. Saying “I think” or “I hope” over the pulpit does not feel appropriate when “I know” is the culturally sanctioned way to speak in testimony meeting. Saying “I hope the Church is true” sounds odd even if that may actually be a better reflection of one’s belief. So, many people in this situation may simply choose to not bear their testimony at all to avoid the cultural discomfort of uncertainty.
But this does not feel right to me — there has to be space for everyone, right? We say there is, but does our language reflect that? Does it truly feel safe for doubters and faith-shaken members to express their level of faith, though small may it be?
Think also of the new convert, or those returning to church after a time away. How wonderful would it be to hear a humble “I hope” testimony? It would be a soothing balm to the soul as it reminds them that there is nothing wrong with having a “seed” of faith. It would show them — not just tell them — that they don’t have to have a perfect knowledge to be in the club. It would also be a great reminder for the seasoned, life-long member that faith is something we continually work at, and that it’s okay if we find ourselves with a weaker faith at some points in our lives. (Because we will — uncertainty is a natural and important part of everyone’s faith journey!)
And finally, think of the children and youth in the congregation. How amazing would it be for the doubtful teen to hear a heartfelt testimony of uncertain hope from a trusted adult? It would signal to them that they are not defective for having questions and doubts, that they can still be an active participant in the Church even when they don’t “know”. And how wonderful would it be for a child to grow up hearing this type of language spoken over the pulpit? They would grow up thinking more critically about their own belief, not just reciting the rote “I know the Church is true” phrase when they bear their own testimonies. They would really have to think for themselves about what they believe. They would grow up with an understanding that faith is something we work for throughout our entire lives. They would have a greater preparation to “endure to the end”.
Words Matter
Words matter. The cultural and psychological connotations that come attached to certain words affect us deeply. We are constantly shaped by them, using them to send messages to ourselves and each other — even subconsciously. The words “I know” are no exception, especially within our Church where there is such a big cultural emphasis on certainty.
I feel that it would help so many members if we let go of our grip on the idea of knowing and became more comfortable with expressions of uncertainty. Of course, there is nothing wrong with knowing — learning is, of course, one of the ultimate goals in mortality— but for most of us, we don’t have that kind of knowledge right now, at least not for most things. Most of us have faith, hope, trust, and belief in Gospel principles. Most of us have questions, doubts, and confusions too, but we still show faith anyway. And that is okay!
So let’s be more real with ourselves. We can say, “I hope the Church is true.” We can say, “I trust that God loves me.” We can say, “I don’t know if the Church is true right now, but I have faith in its principles and maybe someday I will know.” We can say, “I have many doubts today, but I’m still trying.” We can say “I believe”, “I desire”, “I pray for”, “I wish”, “I long for”, “I have faith that”, “I have a conviction of”, “I have a firm belief in”, “I want”, or simply, “I feel”. We can be genuine and honest about where we really are on our spiritual path. I guarantee someone in the congregation needs to hear it!
