Who cares about savor, more salt!

A Reflection on Church Metrics and Meaning

There are moments during church when I want to speak up, but doing so wouldn’t be constructive. For those times, I’m grateful for a blog to reflect, question, and explore what we’re taught.

Today’s lesson was based on Elder Rasband's talk, Right Before Our Eyes. The title comes from a quote from President Nelson.  The phrase seems meant to evoke majesty (President Nelson's description) and wonder at events currently taking place.  The talk followed suit, highlighting the rapid increase of temples, the surge in missionary work, rising baptism numbers, and the growth of Church-run education. These statistics were presented as evidence that the Church is thriving by every measurable standard, and by extension, that it is the Lord’s work. And further evidence that the lord is hastening the work.  

But something felt off.

The Metrics We Choose to See

The lesson focused exclusively on positive indicators, temples, and new temple announcements, membership totals, and institutional reach.  A lot of it was construction focused.  Not once were we invited to consider less flattering metrics: member activity rates, church attendance, temple participation, retention, modern revelation, new light or knowledge from heaven, or spiritual vitality. These were and typically are, absent from the leader's talks. 

When only favorable and cherry-picked statistics are shared, it creates a misleading narrative that risks becoming more about institutional pride and vanity than useful, honest truth.  How can we repent when we insist on avoiding the truth that would lead to repentance?

Salt, Savor, and Stats 

The instructor referenced 1 Nephi 14: “And it came to pass that I beheld the church of the Lamb of God, and its numbers were few.” He (and all others) connects this to the global LDS membership, suggesting that our small numbers fulfill that prophecy.  The members are likened to the “salt of the earth” from Matthew 5.

Supposing we go with the analogy and presume our self-identification with the salt is accurate, we then must also wrestle with Christ’s warning: “If the salt has lost its savor, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing but to be cast out and trodden under foot of men.”

It’s easy to identify as salt. Self-identifying with the good guys in scripture, the salt, the saved, the exalted, the righteous etc...  that's the norm for religious people.  But what if we're wrong? It’s harder (but more spiritually helpful) to ask whether we are salt that carries savor.   

We were reminded by both the talk and the lesson that “hundreds of temples” were once a dream, and now they’re a reality. But how many of these temples are actually built? How many are attended regularly? How many were announced without local awareness or preparation?  I've seen several examples where the city (or the country, like China) that is going to house the new temple puts on social media that they have no knowledge of any such temple being proposed. 

Likewise, we were told that 18 million members was once unimaginable. Now it’s a milestone reached, and one to be congratulated.  Hundreds of missions? Another fulfilled dream. But selected statistics fulfilled on paper can be terribly flattering, pacifying, and misleading.  

A Warning from 3rd Nephi

Jesus warns in 3rd Nephi (Covenant of Christ wording):

"But if they won’t return to Me and obey My voice, I’ll let My people, O house of Israel, go through them and trample them down. They’ll be like salt that’s become useless, which is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by My people, O house of Israel."

How can "My people" trample the salt, if they ARE the salt?  Our identification with salt seems like something we shouldn't just presume. Even if we identify with the salt, we can still be trampled underfoot by the Lord's people.  In other words, even those who once had savor can become useless and change which group they are associated with.

Honest Reflection

When Church leaders again and again focus solely on positive indicating metrics, it can feel like vanity dressed as righteousness and progress. When perilous spiritual realities are ignored in favor of institutional triumphalism, I worry we’re building assumptions that are false, vain, and spiritually fake. 

Honesty, even when unflattering  (perhaps especially) helps build trust. Without honesty, how can we claim to even see or know the truth?