10 differences between our faith and the Catholic church

'What is really the difference between your faith and that of the Catholic Church?' I get that question constantly. At birthday parties, under videos, in conversations after church. And honestly? It's a question I could answer for hours.

There are differences you can explain in five minutes. And there are differences that only become truly clear when you lay them side by side and think carefully about what they mean. I once did the exercise for myself and listed the ten points that weigh heaviest for me between the Catholic Church and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Not because they are the only differences. But because they most sharply show where the two paths diverge.

So, no theological treatise, but also no superficial list. Here it comes.

A God who did not suddenly fall silent

I do not believe that God, 2000 years ago, after the death of Christ, decided: and now I will be silent. He has always called prophets to speak on His behalf and show us the way. The Bible itself says that He continues to do so: 'Surely the Lord GOD will do nothing, but he revealeth his secret unto his servants the prophets' (Amos 3:7). And elsewhere: 'For I am the Lord, I change not;' (Malachi 3:6).

If God is unchangeable, why would He have just stopped sending prophets? I find that difficult to believe, especially if you assume a loving Heavenly Father. I therefore believe that we still have a living prophet today: the president of our church. That church is led by Jesus Christ Himself — hence the name — but He speaks through a chosen prophet, just as in ancient times.

And that is more than a theological detail. God does not change, but we do. We learn, line upon line. There is no verse in the Bible about the use of the internet, and yet we must deal with it today. A living prophet can guide us in this. Without that, you are essentially agreeing with a God who last had something to say about how we should live ten thousand years ago.

Three persons, not a trinity

Catholics profess the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as three persons in one being. What is often forgotten: that was not a generally accepted idea in the first centuries of Christianity. It was only codified at a council in the fifth century—and even then, not everyone within Christianity agreed with it.

I do not want to interfere with anyone's faith; everyone believes as they wish, and I respect that. But we refer back to what the Bible itself shows. At the baptism of Jesus, the voice of the Father speaks from heaven, the Holy Spirit appears as a dove, and the Son stands in the water: three clearly distinct moments, three persons (Matthew 3:16-17). When Jesus prays that His disciples 'may be one, as We are' (John 17:11), He means unity in purpose and thought, not that Father and Son are literally one being.

We believe that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are three separate persons, one in purpose and will. The Father and the Son even have a glorified body, as we will one day. That is why we literally call Him our Heavenly Father: we are His spirit children, and Christ is our elder brother, who voluntarily took on the role of Savior.

No original sin, but personal responsibility

Catholics believe that every human being is born burdened with the original sin of Adam and Eve. We explicitly state: we are not guilty of that. 'The soul who sins shall die; the son shall not bear the iniquity of the father' (Ezekiel 18:20). Everyone is responsible for their own sin, not for Adam's.

That has a reason that goes back further than our birth: we believe that we already existed before we came to earth, as spirit children who lived with our Heavenly Father. We came here to gain experience ourselves. The Fall of Adam and Eve made that possible and is part of the plan of salvation—but it is not the reason why we ourselves need a savior. We do, simply because we mess up enough ourselves.

That immediately explains why children are only baptized with us at the age of eight, instead of right after birth: only then can a child distinguish between good and evil, and thus bear responsibility themselves.

Growing to a divine level

This is a point that often provokes discussion, and I understand why. If we are literally children of heavenly parents, then we also have the chance to grow ourselves, to a divine level. To put it bluntly: we believe that we can someday become like God.

The Bible itself speaks about this, even though it is rarely read that way. Paul writes that we, as children of God, are also heirs: 'heirs of God, and co-heirs with Christ' (Romans 8:16-17). And Peter writes that we are called to 'to become partakers of the divine nature' (2 Peter 1:4). That's quite something, if you take it literally.

I want to be honest here: some make spectacular things out of it — a day when we ourselves would create universes. There is no revelation about that. What we do know: we can become very much like God at a very high level. That exaltation is something we strive for, and it is quite unique to our faith.

No heaven or hell, but three kingdoms

For Catholics, it's ultimately binary: heaven or hell, with purgatory possibly in between to purify your sins. We believe in different kingdoms: a telestial, a terrestrial, and a celestial kingdom, depending on how you lived and what choices you made. Jesus himself says: 'In My Father's house are many mansions' (John 14:2) — not two, but many.

Furthermore, within the highest, celestial kingdom, we distinguish three degrees of glory, and the highest of these is precisely what the previous point was about: progressing to a divine level, becoming kings and priests in the kingdom of our Heavenly Father.

And what about those who have never heard the story of Christ? They too will still have the opportunity to make that choice. For me, that is the only just outcome: it would be unfair if people who never had the chance were punished for it.

Baptism for those who never heard it

This last point is closely related to something we are often seen as ‘strange boys’ for: baptism for the dead. In our temples, we allow ourselves to be baptized, vicariously for deceased ancestors. That sounds strange, until you realize it comes directly from the Bible. Paul writes to the Corinthians: ‘What shall they do which are baptized for the dead, if the dead rise not at all? why are they then baptized for the dead?’ (1 Corinthians 15:29) — a verse that the early church was apparently already concerned with.

We do this because it states that no one can come to God without being baptized by water and Spirit. That would be unjust towards those who never had the chance. But note: we baptize no one against their will. Our ancestors are given the choice to accept that baptism or not. We offer, we do not convert anyone posthumously by force. For me, that is precisely the proof of a perfectly just system, not the opposite.

A priesthood for everyone, no separate caste

We do not have pastors as in the Catholic church, no paid clergy. Our church runs entirely on volunteer work. We do have priests, but that priesthood is reserved for every righteous and worthy man, not only for those who studied theology for years. The Bible itself calls God's people ‘a royal priesthood’ (1 Peter 2:9; see also Exodus 19:6) — a priesthood that is widely supported, not a separate caste.

For us, that priesthood is the direct authorization from Christ to act in His name: baptize, lay on hands, anoint the sick. Our church is indeed hierarchical, from the prophet to the local bishop, but the priesthood itself makes no distinction in that. What I bear, our prophet also bears. It gives both of us not so much a right, as a duty: to serve and care for those entrusted to us.

Churches to gather, temples to come closer to God

Catholics have churches, basilicas, and cathedrals, each with its own function. For us, there is a clearer distinction between two types of buildings. Our churches are soberly furnished: there we gather every Sunday, there we organize activities, and everyone is welcome there. You too. Just walk in on Sunday at ten o'clock.

Our temples are something completely different. For us, a temple is truly the house of the Lord, comparable to the temple among the Jews in the Old and New Testaments: a sanctuary, the place where we come closest to our Heavenly Father. There we perform our most sacred rituals, and precisely because they are so sacred, we do not talk much about them publicly — not because it is a secret, but out of respect. A temple is also not easily accessible: being a member of the church is not enough, you need a temple recommend, after an interview with your bishopand your stake president. There are now more than two hundred worldwide, including one in Zoetermeer, and one will be coming soon a new one in Brussels.

No Mary, no saints

Catholics venerate saints, and in particular Mary, the mother of Christ. We do not know that. We worship our Heavenly Father, and Him alone; of course also Jesus Christ as our savior, but we pray to the Father in His name. Paul is clear about this: ‘there is one God, there is also one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus’ (1 Timothy 2:5). One mediator, no extra layer of saints to mediate for us.

We have great respect for our prophet and our apostles, and we treat them as such. But we do not venerate them — that is really something else. Some even claim that we worship Joseph Smith, the prophet who brought about the restoration of the church. We are enormously grateful to him and respect him, but we do not worship him.

A family forever

And then, point ten — for me one of the most beautiful. In the Catholic Church, and in most other churches, you marry 'until death do us part'. I sincerely regret that the relationship between husband and wife ends there at death. I love my wife very much, and I want to stay together with her forever.

In a temple, husband and wife are not bound until death, but sealed for all time and eternity — and not only husband and wife, but also children and parents. The Bible does not coincidentally end with a prophecy about Elijah, who ‘turn the hearts of the fathers to the children’ will (Malachi 4:5-6, in some translations 3:23-24). We believe that promise is literal: an eternal bond that continues through generations, one large family, connected to a Heavenly Father and a Heavenly Mother.

Ten differences, no judgment

These are ten points of difference, not ten attacks on the Catholic Church. They are also certainly not the only differences that exist. I have chosen them because they show most sharply for me where the two faith traditions truly diverge.

I haven't gone very deep into anything — that would require hours of theology. But if you have any questions about one of these points, or if you want to delve deeper into it with me? Let me know in the comments. I'd be happy to engage in that conversation.