There is a kind of religious discussion that has become more common among thoughtful Latter-day Saints. I’ve been looking through more of it lately.
Much of it is sincere, intelligent, and compassionate. It tries to help people remain within the LDS Church while naming problems many members feel but do not know how to say out loud.
It speaks to those who still believe in the Restoration but no longer experience it through the clean, confident certainties of their growing up years. It acknowledges institutional problems, prophetic fallibility, historical complexity, gender imbalance, scriptural messiness, and administrative and policy issues. It recognizes not every talk is doctrinally correct, not every policy change helps everyone, and leaders have and do say uninspired things.
I do not want to dismiss the value of this kind of writing. It can comfort people in complexity. It can help them feel less alone. It can create enough breathing room for faith not to collapse under the weight of institutional disappointment. It says things many Church leaders either do not say, cannot say, or are not positioned to say over the pulpit.
But comfort in complexity is not the same as being led to truth. Breathing room is not the same as covenant. A hallway can be a mercy, but only if there is a door to walk through. If religious writing helps people survive the collapse of inherited certainty but never points them toward revelation, repentance, covenant, and the actual recovery of God’s work, then it may accomplish an important early mercy while still stopping short of the Gospel it professes. What if God has more for us than breathing room?
That is the gap I keep feeling.
The gap is not honesty, intelligence, or compassion. There is plenty of all three.
The gap is what happens next.
Sometimes that hallway is a good transition. For someone raised in a religious world where every question was treated as faithless or worse, apostate disobedience, just being allowed to admit complexity and messiness can feel like a breath of fresh air. Still, religious breathing room is not the same as a destination. It is not the fulfillment of prophecy. It is not Zion.
Becoming more compassionate towards those within one's own faith who see life or spirituality differently is good. Becoming more tolerant is often good. Learning to hold opposing ideas without discarding faith is good. Making room for people whose belief no longer fits the simpler LDS mold is good. These are the themes I see in this category of faithful LDS writing. People seem to feel more for those friends and family who struggle or who have left the Church and there's people writing and hoping to retain faith amidst the doubts and difficulties present in 2026 Mormonism.
If the Restoration is unfinished, then the main question can't just be whether we stay in the Church or leave it. It can't just be whether we become more patient with imperfection, or more charitable, as valuable as those things are. The deeper question is whether God is still offering something to be received: scripture, covenant, correction, repentance, priesthood, Zion, even God's own presence, and whether we are working towards that or lingering longer in the hallway. As the saying goes, the enemy of the "best" is often the "good".
At some point, a person has to ask: Is the purpose of religious honesty just to preserve enough faith to make my continued LDS membership tolerable? Or is the Gospel pointing somewhere else?
That is the question I cannot shake.
The modern Latter-day Saint hallway
From where I sit, and the portion of the world I observe, more thoughtful Latter-day Saints today seem to occupy a middle space. Some remain content with the simplicity of accepting whatever the Church and/or its leaders say or do. That's faithfulness in some people's eyes. Others have been confronted with challenges about Church history, authority, and no longer believe the simple version of things.
But neither have they left. I respect that. Even when earlier explanations do not hold up under scrutiny, they still want faith. They stay, often sincerely. They stay because they love their people. They stay because the Book of Mormon still speaks to them. They stay because their spiritual life was formed in the Church. They stay because leaving would feel like amputating part of themselves. They stay because they believe God is still there, even if the institution and its leaders are way more human than they once thought.
That kind of staying can be noble. But again, I question it as a destination and resting place of one's faith. I am not saying the middle zone is worthless. I am saying it may be transitional.
The risk I see is that the new articles of faith become: “We believe it's complicated, but we stay anyway".
Prophets? Complicated.
Scripture? Complicated.
Priesthood? Complicated.
Church history? Complicated.
Gender? Complicated.
The temple? Complicated.
Authority? Complicated.
The Restoration itself? Complicated.
"It's all complicated but it's all ok because we're all imperfect" becomes the mantra. Yes, many of those things really are complicated. But complexity wasn't what the Gospel was pointing to. Scriptures speak of higher levels of faith that produce saving fruit and increased understanding. That sounds like the resting place of faith we all deep down long for but don't always know how to find.
I do not write this as someone standing above the problem.
As I've read these books, essays and listened to the podcasts, the risk seems to be adopting a form of faith that can survive complexity but struggles to find the right truth to anchor to. While these writings ask tough questions, often they don't land on a satisfying answer. Which sort of turns the endurance marathon into the destination. It can still attend church. It can still use religious language. It can still quote scripture. It can still write moving essays and give great talks about grace, belonging, uncertainty, and divine love. But quietly stops asking the most unsettling religious question:
What is our actual LDS institutional standing before God? What if it is worse than we assume? What if scripture’s warnings apply to us more directly than we have wanted to admit? As tough to swallow as that may be, the answer may be illuminating because it then forces the question: What is God asking of us in our day? What does actual repentance look like? Does God actually have covenant people on earth, and if so, what are they expected to do other than deconstruct previous religious beliefs?
Deconstruction is not restoration
Latter-day Saints should understand this better than anyone: deconstruction is not restoration. This is not to say deconstruction isn't necessary or helpful. I've seen it be helpful. But the Restoration did not begin because Joseph Smith learned that the religious landscape was complicated, nuanced, and yet still a place where he needed to remain. It began because he took the confusion seriously enough to ask God. And when God answered, Joseph did not merely write a book, publish an essay, or give a talk about remaining faithful when dealing with his religious confusion or ambiguity. He acted. He translated. He gathered. He baptized. He organized. He received commandments. He brought forth scripture. He made covenantal claims. Were there things to deconstruct? Sure, but that wasn't the objective.
The Restoration was not about staying true to whatever religious tradition you inherited. And I don't think it's any different now. In Joseph's day the restoration was a full-blown intervention. It claimed that heaven had spoken again. It claimed that scripture was not closed. It claimed that God intended to establish covenant, gather Israel, restore knowledge, and prepare a people. It didn't just ask people to be more compassionate or more tolerant. It asked people to sacrifice, develop saving faith, and accept that God was moving and you had a choice to come aboard.
It forced an issue: That you cannot both claim to follow Christ and also reject the messengers Christ sends (i.e., Joseph Smith). But that assumes you have correctly identified Christ's messengers. That is one of the tests this middle-ground Mormon discourse does not seem to spend much time on. Our inherited traditions make that question very challenging. The answer threatens the fabric of what we've been taught for decades.
I certainly hope the Restoration today is not simply a therapeutic resource for managing religious complexity. Either it continues as a living work of God and requires the same kind of response it required in prior dispensations, or it becomes simply an inherited religious culture with unusually interesting historical and modern problems.
This is where this modern Latter-day Saint discourse seems to end. It is willing to say, “The Church is not as simple as we thought.” It is willing to say, “Prophets are fallible.” It is willing to say, “Our scriptures have a human element.” It is willing to say, “The institution has changed before and may change again.” or “LDS Church leaders/prophets have been and still may yet be wrong.”
All of that may be true. But then what? Something modern LDS discourse seems less willing to ask is "What if God acts outside of my religious institution all together"?
This doesn't mean be reckless. It does not mean every institutional disappointment proves God is elsewhere. It does not mean every new spiritual claim is true. But if we believe in an unfinished Restoration, then we cannot rule out in advance that God may speak, gather, correct, or offer covenant in a way our inherited expectations did not prepare us to receive.
One observation is that we've slowly lost touch with some of our best measuring sticks. Our traditions and conference talks are given greater weight than scripture. I've seen many who are hesitant to apply a scriptural measuring stick to our 2026 landscape out of fear of being labeled an apostate or being seen as faithless. So if LDS Church prophets are fallible, then how does God actually authorize His work? How do you actually discern when Church leaders are acting as men or as prophets of God?
If scripture has been mishandled, then what does it mean to recover scripture?
If the canon is open, then what would it look like for God to add to it? Why hasn't it happened?
If the Restoration is unfinished, then who is willing to receive more, and what is the process to do so? Do we wait on the institution who raised us to answer and deliver restoration to us?
If authority has become commingled with Church business administration, then what is priesthood independent of office? If corporate management is indistinguishable from current LDS prophetic council, then what should you and I do besides give each other breathing room in the hallway?
These are not just interesting questions or side questions. They are right in the middle of it. They are the questions the Restoration itself forces.
Grace, love, compassion and empathy are prominent themes I've noticed in this category I’ve been reading. But even the modern LDS recovery of grace feels incomplete if it doesn't fulfill the promised destiny of the restoration. I don't believe grace is God’s way of telling us nothing further is required. Grace is what makes it possible.
More compassion and tolerance is not the same thing as hidden knowledge being revealed from Heaven.
I see in these writings that people are more and more seeing real issues within the LDS church. But those observations are not always followed all the way to their Restoration implications.
This kind of writing can identify the wounds all around us with real clarity, but it has a built-in assumption I want to challenge, which is that the only medicine and only remedy are increased awareness of the various challenges members of all kinds face, empathy, inclusion, and gradual institutional improvement.
Those are good things, but may miss the larger Restoration claim: that God is not merely asking us to make the existing LDS atmosphere kinder, but to accept that perhaps He is now offering a new dispensation.
The danger of both staying and leaving
As I've read these books and essays and heard the talks about staying faithful amidst one's doubts, I see a trend. I see a form of intellectual exploration that can look like depth, faith, and endurance, but still avoids a key underlying premise, which is that the LDS institution is the vehicle and the only vehicle through which God will complete the restoration.
It knows a good amount of history, a good amount of theology and the authors see enough of the machinery behind the curtain to know not all is well. The people often know enough personal difficulty to speak gently and treat others who are different with kindness.
But it may not know how to let tradition go. It may not know how to say, “Lord, what are you doing today, and am I part of it?”
It may not know how to receive an answer that costs someone deeply held traditions and assumptions.
"Staying" vs "leaving" the church I think misses the point. There are dozens of reasons to do either. There are perhaps more reasons to stay, and doing so can sometimes assist others who also see issues but yet want to be part of their community and retain the good of their faith. And sometimes that is wisdom.
But staying vs leaving leaves a 3rd alternative unexplored. In Joseph Smith's day, just finding reasons to stay in whatever Church you belonged to wasn't going to fulfill God's plan for the restoration, nor was it going to qualify as hearing God's voice.
The question is not merely, “Did you stay?” or “Did you leave?” The question is, “Did you receive?”
The gap I see is that finding interesting reasons to stay can become a way to remain permanently unclaimed by anything. You’re in the Church, but on your own terms. You accept doctrine, but only when it still feels acceptable. You see through the curtain, so you no longer fully trust the Church’s claims, but neither do you fully let them go. No institution can claim you. No prophet can claim you. No scripture can claim you. Eventually, perhaps, we become less aligned with what’s required for God to fully claim us as well, because our inherited tradition may have taken precedence over actually hearing and responding to God’s voice.
I'm not saying you need to up and join another church, like in Joseph's day. What I am putting forward is the idea that, scripturally speaking, very often God's work is not taking place where the people think it is. The Jews did not expect an "outsider" like John the Baptist. Christians did not expect a young Joseph Smith. At this moment in time, maybe “the Lord’s Church” is more covenantal than institutional. So staying vs leaving leaves you in the same danger either way.
An unfinished Restoration requires a response
The phrase “ongoing Restoration” is common in Latter-day Saint writings and leaders' Church talks. But it is often used vaguely as a reference to whatever change comes next. It can mean administrative adjustments, new programs, shortened meeting schedules, policy revisions, temple changes, or sleeveless garments.
But if the Restoration is truly ongoing, then the stakes are much higher than administrative policies. We've allowed ourselves to become confused at what is a policy change vs a revelation. And then wonder at our own confusion over something that should be very straight forward.
An ongoing Restoration means God is not finished speaking. It means scripture is not merely a historical artifact. If a canon is open, yet no additions for 100+ years, then what gives?
It means covenant is not merely a word attached to temple attendance or institutional belonging. It means priesthood is not reducible to office. It means Zion is not a branding concept. It means the Book of Mormon is not merely an identity marker for being the only true church, but a warning and invitation to all Gentiles who receive it. It means Joseph Smith’s work cannot be conveyed by highly correlated lesson manuals.
It means we may have to ask whether the Restoration, as heaven intended it, is going to come from where we were taught to expect it.
That question is uncomfortable. It should be. It cuts. It does not merely accuse an institution. It accuses me. It asks whether I have received what the Gospel offered, and if not, why? It asks whether I want God or merely religious belonging. Or if I'm willing to tolerate less of God for more religious belonging. It asks whether I want truth or only the social comfort of discussing it.
A Restoration faith cannot be content with endless analysis. It must eventually ask: Has God offered something new, and is God doing something today? Am I willing to receive it? Or do my traditions keep me lingering (dwindling) in my beliefs?
The difference between staying and receiving
There is honor in acting in faith. There is honor in remaining with people who are flawed, patient with leaders who are limited, and charitable toward a community that is still growing. That's Christlike. My point is that if that's all we focus on, we may miss what God is doing in our day. Simply “staying” in the LDS church is not the highest form of faith. Receiving is.
Receiving truth. Receiving correction. Receiving new scripture. Receiving a actual covenant. Receiving messengers. Receiving Christ.
A person can stay in a church and refuse to receive what God is offering.
A person can leave a church and still refuse to receive what God is offering.
The question is not merely, “Did you stay?” or “Did you leave?” The question is, “Did you receive?”
That question cuts through the religious fog of our day. Did you receive light? Did you receive correction? Have you been born of God? Has God offered and taught things you are not currently even aware of?
If God spoke outside your religious framework, would you have any clue? If you were a Jew back in the day, on what grounds would you have accepted John the Baptist or Jesus? If you were a random Christian in Joseph Smith's day, on what grounds would you have accepted Joseph?
Those are pertinent questions today if you contemplate that God is not required to fulfill His work via the LDS Church.
Beyond the hallway
I understand why people remain in the hallway. The hallway feels safer than false certainty. It allows conversation and a safe space to have uncomfortable discussions. It allows complexity. It allows people at different stages of faith to breathe. But I think it's only useful if it leads somewhere.
At some point, the Restoration asks more of us than the ability to discuss difficult things beautifully and honestly. It asks whether we will receive the things God has given, including the things that expose our idols, threaten our status, unsettle our inherited loyalties, contradict our religious traditions, and require us to stand somewhere.
The Restoration's goal wasn't to help us feel better about our religious institutions in order to remain in them. It was to actually restore something. It exists to bring us back into the presence of God. A teaching once taught by Joseph but is largely absent from LDS curriculum now.
The goal of the Gospel requires more than institutional patience. I believe at the end of the day it requires more than "staying in the Church".
So yes, let us be honest. Let us be compassionate. Let us admit complexity. Let us stop pretending every inherited answer is sufficient. And stay in the Church if that fits your situation.
But then let's also ask the next question. What does the unfinished Restoration require me to receive that I have not yet received? What is God actually saying in our day, and is it still found within the LDS church? And if not, where can I find it?
That is the question that turns religious honesty into discipleship. That is the question that moves us beyond the hallway.