After Prop. 8, I, like so many people, had a somewhat pessimistic view of anything Mormon, so it was surprising to come to “liberal” Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley and see a Latter-day Saint Institute right in its backyard.

Just across the street from the seminary it sits: an elegant white building with fancy columns that once belonged to the Hearst family.

For a while I wondered what was going on in there, and when it was time to register for spring classes I decided to find out by enrolling in a course called “Latter-day Saint Scriptures.” I was a little nervous, and wondered if this was how Jesus had felt as he prepared to venture into Samaria.

My first clue that this class would probably not conform to any preconceived notions was that the email address for the professor, Robert Reese, was listed as a “heartmath.org” address. Heartmath … I knew about Heartmath! This was the research organization devoted to the study of how the heart and mind communicate; actually kind of a “woo-woo” outfit as some of my friends might say.

So my professor turned out to be a big-wig at Heartmath and this was a good sign, since anyone closed-minded would probably not be working there! So far, so good.

Besides the likelihood that Bob would be a pretty spiritual guy, I noted from the Google results that he was also a former professor of literature at UCLA. Nice! And, an added bonus, Google also told me that he was the author of tens of LDS articles supporting gays and lesbians. My professor sounded a bit eccentric, so I liked him already.

The first night of class I went through the massive white doors and was welcomed into a big room with large windows, a long curved wooden table and an elegant rug intricately shaped to fit the unique geometry of the floor. A glorious fire burned in the fireplace, and the professor, calling himself Bob, introduced himself to us and then asked the students (about ten of us) to do the same.

There were only three non-Mormons: one from United Church of Christ, a Catholic and, of course me, a Disciple. Some of the Mormon students were from Pacific School of Religion, some were from UC Berkeley. All of them were eloquent and intelligent; one was even a “dark-matter” researcher! They, like me, were there to delve into the scriptures that South Park has made infamous to modern audiences: The Book of Mormon.

Actually, there are other LDS scriptures too, and they are basically “visions” of Joseph Smith containing a lot of doctrine about church life.

The Book of Mormon is the story of how ancient Israelites left Jerusalem before the Babylonian exile, sailing across the seas and settling somewhere in the Americas. After Jesus’ resurrection, he appears to descendants of these people to tell them the Gospel, and then leaves them to gradually kill themselves off – all but those who survive to become the Native Americans that we know today.

It is really a pretty sad and brutal story, and Mormons believe that the only reason we know about it is that the records were kept and buried, only to be found 1,400 years later by Joseph Smith on a hill in New York. A lot of 19th century Americans had a hard time accepting Joseph Smith’s “translations” and as a result Mormons were persecuted and murdered relentlessly for many years.

So, with an open mind I delved into the first reading assignment, only to be sidetracked by a persistent word: heresy, heresy, heresy, it whispered.

Wow, I thought. Me, thinking something is heretical? That’s interesting. Heresy seems like such an old-fashioned, prudish word.

But something just felt so wrong. I mean, the foundational premise was that the Jews had intentionally left crucial information about Jesus out of their scriptures.

If, and it’s a huge IF, I could believe that, next I would have to believe that passages from Isaiah that were written after the exile were somehow available to the Israelites who escaped before that; available for them to carve the words onto brass plates – in a mysterious language called “Reformed Egyptian” that translates into King James English.

And, how would these Israelites know of Greek words like “baptize,” “apostle” and “Christ” if they had left Israel 300 years before Alexander the Great conquered that region? How would they have known about “resurrection” if that concept didn’t enter Israelite consciousness until the captivity? How would Abraham know about the Law if it hadn’t been given yet?

These and many other questions were troubling, and digging into my first semester Old Testament notes was just making it worse. There was just no way that any of this stuff could be true.

Every week in class, the topic of anachronisms would inevitably come up and I’d present my concerns, all of which were afforded the respect they deserved by both Bob and the other students. The discussions were actually exciting and invigorating, and I soon had a reputation for being the troublemaker – all in good fun, of course.

For Mormons, belief boils down to the issue of faith, since certainly all religions have some bizarre aspects that they try to pass off as “truth.”

I was finally willing to let this suffice, because there was no convincing my professor that his scriptures were make-believe, and there was no way I was going to ignore the entirety of my Pacific School of Religion Old Testament education.

How much does it matter, anyway, as long as we agree on the fundamental message of Jesus, which is to love and serve one another? Yahweh himself and through his prophets “said” some pretty wacky things too, and Christians find a way to live with those without doubting the entirety of the Bible.

Gradually, I noticed myself feeling a strange affinity for Joseph Smith, a simple farm boy who tried to find a workable solution to the ugly 19th century denominational battles that were raging in his day.

The most surprising thing I learned from the class is that the LDS scriptures are, in fact, astonishingly compassionate and “liberal” – in the sense that the writers wanted desperately for their brethren and their descendents to forgo wealth in order to care for one another.

It’s a constant refrain:

“Behold, ye do love money and your substance, and your fine apparel, and the adorning of your churches, more than ye love the poor and the needy, the sick, and the afflicted. . . . Why do ye adorn yourselves with that which hath no life, and yet suffer the hungry, and the needy, and the naked, and the sick and the afflicted to pass by you, and notice them not? (Mormon 8:35-39)”

Additionally, after spending three hours in an LDS ward as part of an assignment, I was impressed with the emphasis on being “like Jesus”; serving and loving everyone – with no judging. There was no mention at all of brass plates, Native Americans, racism, homophobia or celestial kingdoms – sorry, South Park!

Men and women I encountered were filled with a spirit of fellowship and love, often evident in emotions and tears that flowed when they spoke of how God was working through their lives, creating strength out of adversity and guiding them to learn how to love their neighbor the way Jesus would. These did not seem like hate-filled people.

Best of all, Professor Bob Rees is a real champion in the faith, working graciously yet tirelessly for important social causes, including full rights for gay and lesbian brothers and sisters. He did not abandon his faith because of its doctrines; he knows that, unlike the Christian canon, the Mormon canon is still open for revision and reinterpretation.

He watches PBS and MSNBC, but also Fox News “to hear what the other side’s arguments are.” He’s often seen as controversial in the wards he attends, but he does not back down from witnessing about the saving power of Jesus’ love to anyone who will listen.

Bob has found the Kingdom within and because of this he both accepts and admires other world religions, even going so far as to encourage Mormons to read the Koran to understand that Muslims also love Jesus! He is, in my opinion, a true apostle: a “sent out” person.

From the deeply spiritual professor, interesting classmates, thought-provoking assignments and discussions, to the warmth and intimacy of the fireplace on dreary winter nights, this course was an experience well-worth having.

I feel so much better equipped to build bridges of peace with Mormons I will encounter throughout my life, even though I may not accept every word of their scriptures.

I thank my seminary and God for making it possible for understanding and respect to grow, even between, as some might believe, the most unlikely neighbors.

Gale Tompkins-Bischel attends United Christian Parish in Lakeport and is in the Masters of Divinity Program at Pacific School of Religion.