Can you solve this?

A few years ago I wondered what it means to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I wondered: is it ok if my testimony dwells down to, “I really don’t believe in all of this spiritual stuff, but from an organizational perspective, I believe that the church is great at moving and shaking…and it has moved and shaken me to be a better person”?

I concluded that was not ok. A religion isn’t just a collection of practical life advice and a church isn’t just the hub to receive and practice such advice. It is a community of faith, belief, and hope. (And when one is differently directed in the latter aspects, the organizational stuff will often wreak havoc as well.)

I realized that if I didn’t have those latter things (I don’t), then it wouldn’t make sense to do certain other things (e.g., keep pretending to have these things in order to “progress” in the priesthood, go on a mission, speak out publicly on behalf of the church, or, perhaps, even go to church.)

…Yet, I guess you’d call me one of those guys who leaves the church but can’t leave it alone.

You see, there are several unsolved puzzles that I feel I just can’t drop.

I can’t drop that the vast majority of the human race has no idea about what I’m talking, and that I have no idea about what the vast majority of the human race is talking. I can’t ignore that there is a deep difference between most of you and me.

For me, speaking about God is an academic thing. It is like analyzing a piece of fiction. Sometimes, I’m bored with the novel. I don’t get the poetry. Sometimes, it’s kinda neat and inspiring, and I like the special effects from the movie or the play.

But at the end of the day, it feels like we are talking about an artificiality distinct and separate from reality. That’s how it feels like to me.

Praying is even worse. It’s like when you send an email to a bad address, but unlike email, I don’t get a bounceback email. So I have to wonder if there was a destination, if it even reached, if the return mail is coming back, if there is any return mail. It’s not a totally productive use of time.

But…that’s not how it feels like to most other people, is it? For most other people, the reason they talk about God (even if they differ on who or what God is, what is his [or her {or its}] number, gender, or personality) is because God is real to them. In fact, God is more real than the physical world you and I live and breathe and move in. It may not be as extreme as that, but somehow, I don’t believe most people are “playing” religion.

And I don’t get that. Not even in the slightest.

I know some atheists wave this off and wave this away, but whether out of charity and respect or out of sheer necessity, I cannot. This doesn’t mean I believe in these stories and experiences any more, but that this is one puzzle that is wanting of a solution.

In a way, the reason I am involved in the Mormon community (in the tenuous, will-not-save-me I’m-cheating-myself-by-using-it-as-a-ward-substitute online bloggernacle way) is because Mormonism continues to be so unfamiliar to me, even though it is really familiar to me.

The forty-sixth section of the Doctrine and Covenants (let us call it The People) elaborates a lot about spiritual gifts. Most times, people only mention a couple:

11 For all have not every gift given unto them; for there are many gifts, and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God.

12 To some is given one, and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby.

13 To some it is given by the Holy Ghost to know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and that he was crucified for the sins of the world.

14 To others it is given to believe on their words, that they also might have eternal life if they continue faithful.

I think it is helpful to point out that certain things like belief itself may be gifts, instead of things that we can secure for ourselves or just “choose” to have if we just try harder. But these aren’t the only gifts possible, and the two gifts discussed in verses 13 and 14 are not a binary (i.e., if you don’t have knowledge, then it isn’t necessarily true that you will be able to believe on the words of others).

So what about those for whom it all just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t appeal, doesn’t seem real? Might we not also have eternal life…or is it all predicated on continuing faithfully? And then, what is continuing faithful? Is it going to church, even if one answers all the questions about belief in the negative, following commandments with which one may or may not agree, being alienated and alone, or perhaps even being excommunicated but still with stellar activity?

The earlier part of the section addresses a little on how church services and meetings should be held. This also has something interesting.

5 And again I say unto you, ye shall not cast any out of your sacrament meetings who are earnestly seeking the kingdom—I speak this concerning those who are not of the church.

6 And again I say unto you, concerning your confirmation meetings, that if there be any that are not of the church, that are earnestly seeking after the kingdom, ye shall not cast them out.

Again, what does it mean to earnestly seek the kingdom?

I have no idea, but I need to get back to this puzzle I’ve been working on…

Our goal is to get at true principles, but we are best able to seek after true principles when those principles are cultivated and reinforced through rules. However, if we lose sight of the principles for the rules, then our obedience becomes Pharisaical; we miss the point.

As I mentioned last week, I think the seed analogy is powerful because how visual and universal it is. But another way that it is powerful is in its flexibility — we know quite a few things about seeds in reality that can be applied to the simile. What is the flexibility of an analogy of the scriptures being a seed?

The issue is this: principles such as honesty and chastity are general and universal. Rules such as the Law of Chastity are particular and specific. Sometimes, it seems like planting the word as a seed doesn’t work. Alma 32 assumes that the seed will grow for anyone. Yet, this isn’t always the case.

Different people are enticed by different philosophies, religions, and lifestyles. They are driven away by different philosophies, religions, and lifestyles as well. What does this do to our seed analogy?

Well, actually, the seed analogy is surprisingly robust for this case.

Firstly, within the seed are remarkable meters for temperature, moisture, light, and so on. Seeds germinate when these various factors are ideal and remain dormant until then. Similarly, proper application of scriptural precepts requires appropriate internal and external conditions.

Secondly (and much more obviously), there are several kinds of seeds in life. Each seed has the same kinds of parts, like the embryo, nutrients for the embryo, and the coat which shells around the seed. Yet seeds all basically work the same way ideally. They germinate, sprout, and grow. But beyond that, the seeds can look quite different and produce very different plants.

So then, shouldn’t we recognize that when Alma 32 refers to the Word as a seed, this does not mean there can’t be other seeds? And since living seeds all can germinate, sprout, and grow, doesn’t this mean that different spiritual seeds could enlarge the soul and enlighten the mind?

In the last post, I made an analogy to accounting standards (and traffic rules). This works well with this modified seed analogy. Believe it or not, but accounting isn’t this monolithic and universal structure. To the contrary, there are different accounting standards (as there are different tax codes). Just like there are different traffic rules and norms.

What does all this diversity mean? Does it mean everything is completely relative and there are no general principles to glean?

Actually, the diversity supports universal principles in each case. Different traffic rules are all different approaches that all try to reach the same goal of a safe driving experience for all. Different accounting standards are all different approaches that all try to reach the same goal of communicating economic decisions. And different religious, philosophical, and lifestyle codes are all different approaches that all try to reach the same set of principles.

We are often situated in a particular setting of rules, whether it be religious or legal. Most of the times, the rules that we have prime us well to seek true principles. Other times, we look to improve and build upon our rules (at least, that’s what Congress thinks it’s doing, right?). Nevertheless, we must always be looking out for the right principles — wherever they may be — that will truly enlarge our souls.

As Mormons we are encouraged to seek truth, wherever it may be found. But we also believe that our own tradition, by virtue of being led by prophets, seers, and revelators, contains that truth. May we then recognize truths that can be found universally through our own particular station.

The seed is a versatile image and metaphor because it is the start of everything: the start of every life; the start of every endeavor; the start of every idea. The start of every being and the start of every becoming. The 32nd chapter of Alma talks about the Word being a seed, and from there we learn just what we can expect from a single seed.

[Story 1]

The Word is a seed that we must take the chance to plant first, and which, hopefully, if we do plant it, will germinate, sprout and grow, enlarging our souls and enlightening our minds.

In my last post, commenter st1305 wrote that there cannot be faith in a false idea, because faith is not simply belief. Faith, instead, is the application of a belief that enlarges the soul and enlightens the mind, as Alma 32: 34 and 35 also describe. A false idea, he argued, would not enlarge the soul and enlighten the mind. What st1305 wrote was interesting:

This is true for all of the other principles that I apply in my life – chastity, honesty, integrity, temple work, missionary work and a host of other principles in my faith. I know they are true as I have applied them and I see the fruits and they are good.

I saw a distinction between the ideas that st1305 was raising, however. Principles like honesty, integrity and service differ from ones like temple work or tithing in that the former are universal and general, but the latter are specific and particular implementations as found within the church. In some cases, they are rules that at best seek to capture a more general principle.

The LDS church does not have any sort of exclusive claim on a principle like chastity, even if they do have claims to particular stipulations of the law of chastity. But from here is the first question…what is it that enlarges our soul and enlightens our mind? The rule…or the principle?

I believe it is the principle. When we lose sight of the principles for rules, then our faith becomes Pharisaical. Hollow.

A dangerous new thought sprouted forth: wouldn’t we do best to focus on principles without relying so much on rules?

[/Story 1]

Any day now, America will (if the adoption date ever stops pushing back) migrate away from the Generally Accepted Accounting Principles (GAAP) that we have historically used to International Financial Reporting Standards (IFRS).

Supporters of IFRS argue that the change will increase comparability of financial statements — instead of comparing apples to oranges, we’ll all be comparing oranges. In addition, since IFRS is more principles-based, IFRS will not encourage abuse of the brightline rules that US GAAP has.

Let me try to explain the difference using a non-accounting example.

[Story 2]

When we drive, we operate under a basic principle: we want our driving experience to be safe. To satisfy this principle, we develop certain rules, such as the speed limit.

US GAAP sets clear and easy-to-understand (that is, “bright line”) speed limits with directly measurable values. A 40 mile per hour speed limit gives everyone a clear boundary — you can be ticketed for going over 40. Some cops may allow some higher speeds to slide, but if you get caught, the rules are clear.

Everyone is justified to go up to 40 mph, and can do so whenever possible with legal protection.

What could be bad about this? How could this possibly be abused? 40 miles per hour isn’t even that fast…

Let’s say that the speed limit is the ultimate rule for speed and you are driving in terrible weather. In this case, couldn’t you see how a simple, clear-cut rule could backfire and fail to establish our principle (and principal) goal of maintaining safety?

…Yet, creating exceptions for every occurrence would just create a tremendous driver’s manual (not to mention street signs!) In the case of accounting scandals, it wouldn’t even work to prevent frauds before they are perpetuated. New rules always are a step behind the crooks.

So what if instead we had no bright line speed limit numbers, but instead we were given the principle, “Drive safely given the environment”? This extreme case highlights the allure of IFRS.

Drivers wouldn’t have a rule to which they could hug close. However, rule enforcers also wouldn’t have a rule to which they could hug close. If a police officer disagreed with you on the optimally safe speed, you would have no bright line precedent of speed limit to back up your case.

In accounting, we have a bit of a different issue. Normally, in a court, you don’t easily win against a police officer. However, in a court, groups can win against the auditor. Additionally, auditors are hired by the firms they audit, so they have (at least) two incentives: 1) to make sure their clients stay in business and 2) to make decisions that are less likely to be challenged in courts. With clear-cut rules, the audit firm can at least defend its decisions both to clients and juries by saying, “We play according to the rules.” But without clear-cut rules, the courts do not have clear-cut rules with which to crucify (or protect), and auditors do not have the mechanism to challenge more fiscally aggressive clients.

So the big push against principles-based accounting is that it too does not prevent against fraud but instead gives ne’er-do-well executives even greater flexibility to report financial information aggressively. Ne’er-do-well execs can argue that really, 80 miles per hour is always safe, no matter the road conditions. In addition, supporters of GAAP note that the P in GAAP already is “principles,” and a balance of clear rules and principles (like the balance of speed limits with principles of safety in less-ideal conditions) is best.

[/Story 2]

[Synthesis]

When I thought about the audit and accounting example, I began to realize that the rules are valuable for inculcating the principles. Sure, sometimes they can be abused (our rules-based accounting did not prevent Enron, and in the aftermath, some research has suggested that technically, no violations of GAAP or auditing standards took place. Enron simply worked creatively and aggressively within the legal boundaries), but in this case we need to balance re-tweak rules for the sake of the principles, not eliminate one or the other.

[/Synthesis]

The next thing I thought about, as a result of thinking about accounting standards, is the fact that there are many sets of accounting standards seeking after the same principles. What comparison can we make with seeds and the Word? You’ll have to stay tuned for next week’s entry!

In the past, the sheer foreignness of these admonitions has been like a Langford basilisk to me — I can’t help but take the words in, but my mind, uncomprehending, does not deal with them. Part of this mental incomprehensibility is the voluntaristic nature of beliefs that it presents. I understand that many people think differently, but I do not imagine consciously choosing to believe or to doubt something. Rather, my beliefs and doubts seem to me the unconscious conclusions of evaluation of the data I perceive.

So, in the past, I didn’t think about what such a phrase could mean, and when I did, I concluded that the phrase was just a cheap attack.

But like the idea of Langford’s basilisk, my mind only required time and a somewhat more comprehensive, yet similar concept to recall the uncomprehended and incomprehensible and crash.

I have often thought about what it  means to “leave the church, but not leave it alone.” This is another phrase frequently flung at the faithless flock, but immediately easier to grasp. I can understand why a member would want someone who disbelieves, disagrees, and disaffiliates to disengage, disassociate, and desist (although I believe this may not capture why the person “does not leave the church alone” in the first place.) I have read other members’ dealings with “full-time” anti-Mormons (the twitter-engaged ones, at least), and I have myself dealt with accusations of being an anti-Mormon. And I have grappled with the idea of engaging with Mormonism, of loving Mormonism despite not believing and not engaging with a physical community. What can such a thing even mean?

I have at times been discouraged to write here at Mormon Matters, because sometimes I feel it could damage the site’s reputation among our brethren in the Bloggernacle. Is Mormonism a big tent or not?

In my quiet considerations, others have been quite charitable. They have expressed how I’m always welcome…how a break is a natural or a good thing. Some have gone so far to say that separating, that moving on completely, is a natural or a good thing.

And here I have come to doubt, and to doubt my doubts.

I feel like the comments from the others are an inception. An inception comes from another, but must be planted far enough in the subconscious so as to seem as if it comes from the self. And so, as others have suggested, “It’s ok to move away from Mormon blogging if you doubt your goals and purposes within both the blog and the Mormonism,” I have understood the savory sensibility of this simple statement, and I have adopted it as my own simple statement. But I have also doubted this doubt, and doubted this statement.

I have doubted my doubt that (blogging about) Mormonism can remain compelling or relevant to me.

A while back, I was reading an entry from a friend introducing his series into the Book of Mormon. He, like me, does not believe, but he stated:

I disagree with Elder Holland that the only available answer is that Joseph Smith translated an ancient American history by the power of god…But I do actually agree with Elder Holland on this point: Some critics are too quick to dismiss the Book of Mormon. And while the burden of proof rests primarily with its believers, I nonetheless think we owe the Book of Mormon more than just an indifferent shrug or rolled eyes. That’s why I’m writing this series—to grapple honestly with the Book of Mormon.

I had at the time challenged the idea that we owe more than just an indifferent shrug or rolled eyes. I’d probably still challenge the idea, because I believe that what we “owe” the Book of Mormon — or any text — is not some universal prescription inscribed in pristine marble, but is tied to our personal motivations. His prescription, I thought, reflected his motivations and desires to grapple honestly with the book.

With time, I have come to see blogging in a similar way. I know people who would say this is inferior to parking my posterior in a pew, or to diving into the doctrines of official scriptures. I know others who would say it doesn’t make sense to try to “grapple with” blogging once I’ve “burnt out.” Perhaps they are all right.

Nevertheless, I feel this, my sincere if substandard offering, is worth offering, if only for myself.

So, I have to confess that as a result, I rarely (if ever) visited the church’s website for non-members (at mormon.org). I thought it would be much of the same, and I thought I’d have to be a little embarrassed for it.

…but just a few days ago, the LDS Newsroom (another church site I rarely check…grr, I’m so bad!) announced that Mormon.org had gotten a facelift. I don’t know about you, but I am in awe. Click the image (or here) to jump to it!

I think the church has been trying to change its image for a while (and some of our friends in the Bloggernacle have discussed whether outside coverage on shifting Mormon perceptions is changing the average person’s viewpoint), but it’s had some misses. For example, it rang in 2009 with a new site for church youth (which [fortunately] has been quietly scuttled away, as far as I can tell — but you can still check out the video here), a site that oozed with pop and total radicality.

But for the new Mormon.org…I could be wrong…but it seems that the years of research into design, psychology, and current awareness of Mormonism paid off. You can read a fascinating account of the development of the new site here.

Here are just a few of my favorite aspects of the site.

Integration of Our People

From the first page (and even the picture that I posted), you can see that the designers of the new Mormon.org wanted people to hear regular (even if particularly attractive, talented) members. But what particularly intrigued me was the Our People page itself, where anyone can search for member testimonies and profiles by ethnicity, continent, age, gender, or even religious background. One goal of the designers at North Temple’s was to improve the perceptions of Mormons — especially of the diversity of the church membership — and I certainly think that this site has been a good step here.

Even more, member perspectives are integrated elsewhere throughout the site. Take for example the FAQ. Each topic has, in addition to the official church response, responses from various members. I’m certain that there is a certain vetting process to make sure that everything is kosher, but even in some touchy questions, there are touching, if seemingly surprising answers. (One woman answers the question regarding the church’s position on homosexuality and gay marriage by pointing out that the church does not support same-sex marriage, but does support families. She notes this has allowed her to support her mother, who is a lesbian, and her partner.)

Emphasis on Our Values

As someone who doesn’t have a testimony of every aspect of the faith, I could still be on board with the presentation of church values. The new mormon.org presents these values in such a way that most people can easily find agreement, but it does not try to present these values in a completely sterile and neutral way. The site successfully incorporates LDS perspectives, scriptures, and quotations so that they are not overbearing, but in a way that a non-member of the site could see that the church does have vibrant positions.

For example, the page on LDS valuation of freedom of choice conveys both the LDS position of official political neutrality and the LDS position of standing up for its valued moral positions. I understand that this interplay is often a raw point for some, but the site gracefully handles it.

Employment of Colors

Recently, another one of our brethren in the Bloggernacle listed the several “V” words that he found to be integral to true religion. His terms were an emotional onomatopoeia of life, love, and learning. Two words he used were verdant and vibrant — words that evoke a sense of richness to color.

This has not been lost or forgone with the new Mormon.org. I must admit that I am not a formal designer, and I am not a color psychologist, but as someone who can see and feel, I see vitality and hope from this very site. I can see some who might be skeptical — “it is just marketing; it is just pushing buttons.” But what about the fantastic art of the Renaissance? The heaven-reaching architecture? The divine melodies of the music?

I guess I’m not saying that this is the new masterpiece, but in the same way that effective design principles have always been used for emotional and spiritual direction and amplification, I feel like this site is a modern paradigm.

So, what do you think? Am I totally off the mark? Do you think that this will have any effect on nonmembers’ perceptions?

But, still, we live in 2010 and we are moving forward. Technology is a part of much of our lives. How much do we use it to supplement our faith?

A while back, a friend of mine on twitter invited me to work with her to write an article on the LDSTech Community, (or at least cover the Developers Conference they held earlier this year.) I was flattered to be asked to work in such a project. I also found myself extremely inadequate.

I ultimately decided to decline the invitation.

This article isn’t going to be a comprehensive coverage of anything like that [so, if you happen to be reading this, @NotSoPoetic, it's not like I stole your idea and went along without you .]

But recently, I’ve been thinking about that.

I am somewhat interested in technology. I dual-boot between Windows XP (yes, I understand that this operating system is…almost a decade old) and Linux Mint. I don’t necessarily collect, but I am very interested in smartphones and their OSes, keeping track of news about the new iOS 4, Blackberry OS 6, Android, webOS, Windows Phone 7 Series, and…you get the point?

But I am simply an enthusiast. I don’t program. I don’t develop. I consume and scrawl out some code in a terminal occasionally in order to troubleshoot.

So, from a technological standpoint, I obviously don’t think I can even scratch the surface of talking about the LDS Tech community…except from a standpoint of being a consumer.

Back when I had a Palm Pilot (and then when I moved to a Dell Axim x51v…and then when I moved on to…you get the point), I always wanted to find some kind of program so I could load up the scriptures with me. Back then, I guess I just wanted to do it because I could. (Maybe such is true now).

So when I downloaded the LDS Gospel Library to my Palm Pre, I guess I felt the spirit of old times’ sake. Of course, if you don’t already know, the LDS Gospel Library is available for all the major mobile platforms.

I guess I could give a review. But again, that’s not quite the point here (although I will say I am quite impressed with the app.) I’m really just trying to provide a framework for discussion.

Of course, since we are all here, then we know about blogging. But are we just readers? Are we commenters, or are we writers as well? And beyond blogs themselves, do we engage technology with our faith in any other ways? Twitter, anyone?

I’m just wondering…how much…and in what ways…does technology supplement and help your faith?

I can’t even begin to comprehend it all, but I am fortunate for the glimpse and expose that Scott B is providing for it.

One thing I can’t help but think about is the sheer artistic nature of this undertaking. It is literary, first and foremost…and from the beginning, the project objectives bore innovative literary significance. As was described in the project objectives (hidden away from the general public for so long):

…our number one aim—beyond just having fun—with this project is to explore the potential of blogging as a story-telling form.  More specifically, we want to explore blogging as a way of telling Mormon stories, and more specifically than that we want to tell stories that reflect back on the bloggernacle itself.

Of course, in the process, the project needed to be much more. Blogs aren’t static, but interactive. And with that, the Banner of Heaven project became more performative, social, experimental, and experiential.

I cannot even begin to understand the charged feelings and responses to the blog, because I wasn’t “there” for it. Yet, in seeing all the discussion about BoH after the fact, I always see a kind of damage control relating to the subject.

One idea that comes out frequently is that of deception. Was it deception? Was that the intent? Was that an unfortunate consequence? A known, yet calculated risk? What does that say about the participating bloggers (the actors)? I think the latest entry on the subject, which features a podcast interview of one of the participating bloggers, touches a few intriguing points. As one commenter to the thread sums up:

The one telling thing on this podcast is Rosalynde’s unwillingness to act deceptively. She was the only one who with the foresight to recognize how people were going to react to being tricked. They all knew she had misgivings about it, and forged on regardless with their grand enterprise. From this podcast it doesnt sound like her withdrawl resulted in any internal soul-searching or discussion with the rest of them.

People’s perceptions of whats funny sure is different.

I guess that psychological aspect running through it all is the most intriguing. Within this comment, I sense an undertone…a lingering disgust that carries with it a sort of judgment of the participating writers.

Yet, the fascinating part is I bet that many would still assert that there wasn’t any intent to deceive and, even now, the project wasn’t really as bad as some people would like to believe.

I certainly feel, even from a distance, that good, bad, or indifferent, this project made a big splash on the story of Mormonism (and the story of Mormon blogging). In fact, it is precisely because of the good and the bad and the indifferent that this makes such a great Mormon story.

I regret that the limitations of analogies for this project are unfortunately fatal. At best, it can tell us about a community built around a knowing untruth, but how far can that tell either a story about the real bloggernacle or Mormonism itself without making or taking taboo and unpalatable assumptions about either the former or the latter?

Everyone knows Superman.  He is simply the most powerful superhero ever created.  Invulnerable to almost everything, his list of abilities includes flight, speed, strength, heat vision, x-ray vision . . . the list goes on.  His private life also seems pretty sweet.  He was raised by two stead[y] parents (although in some versions Pa Kent dies when Clark is young), has a good career, and in recent years is married to the love of his life.  Director Richard Donner went so far as to present Supes as a Christ figure in the 1979 film, with Jor-El (God the Father?) sending his only son to earth to help mortals realize their potential for good.

As contrasted to:

Then there’s Spiderman, a decidedly less perfect hero.  Peter Parker’s parents are gone, and even his Uncle Ben dies early on, leaving him with only Aunt Mae.  He gets bitten by a radioactive spider and gains powers including strength, speed, agility, wall-climbing, and “spider-sense.” …Impressive abilities, to be sure, but nothing compared to Superman.  He also struggles with issues like unemployment, unpopularity, and girl problems to a much greater degree than his DC counterparts.  He’s a real person, dealing with real problems, plus he fights crime.

Hall addressed the way that, as different generations idealized different superheroes, different generations of church leadership idealized different parts of church history and doctrine. But now, as new generations are growing up in a new technological era, they discover not that there are new heroes to be found…but rather they discover that the old heroes — whom they had been raised to believe were larger-than-life like the DC superheroes — were always more akin to the down-to-earth Marvel counterparts. Such a discovery, rather than leading the way for a a blossoming of new understanding of the heroes, has led to a sense of betrayal for many.

Why is this the case? In an article I wrote discussing that elusive concept of “The Great Mormon Novel,” I had not anticipated making any connections to history. Yet, as I read one comment, I wondered:

One of the qualities that makes literature great is the ability to create nuance. Protagonists with serious flaws and antagonists with shiny centers. I don’t think Mormonism is very conducive to this view. There’s a lot of black and white thinking – take the typical LDS attitude toward coffee drinkers, for example.

In fact, an arument could be made that an individual Mormon writer could write a great novel, but a MORMON novel, by definition, is going to be flat and full of cariacture.

I immediately was taken aback by this. Sure, I could see what the point that the writer was trying to make…and I don’t think I can really deny some impact of what he had said. Yet, as I remarked then, and what I’ve been thinking about ever since, was this:

Even if we see the way correlated church history as taught as being somewhat…truncated…abbreviated…whatever term you will use, what we know (or what many of us soon discover, whether we want to or not), is that Mormonism does have nuance. The protagonists we have been raised with do have serious flaws, and many antagonists have shiny centers. In fact, even if we want to speak about Mormonism today, where it seems as if Mormonism is increasingly black and white and polarized, this status quo of, say, correlation, is itself an ongoing drama of nuance, as has been addressed at length in podcasts like this one on Mormon Stories.

Yet this doesn’t seem to evoke within many the “greatness” of the tradition, of the culture, of the religion. Instead, it seems to make many shrink. It seems to break down others, without offering any care package to start building them back up.

Why is this so? When we look for “truth” and “perfection”, do we eschew and disdain the qualities that make literature and art beautiful, real, and accessible? People say that art mimics life, but when life seems to have all the traits we appreciate in art, why does that disappoint?

Some of you may have played this game before…or understand how it is played. If you do, then think back to the first time you played the game (when it was as unknown to you as it is to many), and don’t spoil it for the rest.

There will be prizes. Although, they will be the nonphysical kind.

OK. So, here’s the game.

There are three doors in front of you. What I can tell you is that one of the door contains within a fabulous, yet utterly nonphysical prize. The other doors contain cureloms (…which I think is a goat. Maybe). Your job is to pick the door with the fabulous prize in order to win it.

Here are your three doors

But I’ll tell you what I’ll do. When you’ve picked a door (but before you’ve opened it!), I will open another door that has one of the cureloms in it. I will then give you the chance to stay with your door, or switch to the final, still unopened door.

…ok…so, before we get started with the game, I’ll ask you a question. After I have revealed one of the curelom-containing doors, do you think you should stay with your door, switch to the other door, or do you think it doesn’t matter?

[poll id="176"]

More after the break, folks! (Including spoilers)

If you truly haven’t heard of this scenario, then please acquaint yourself with the Monty Hall Problem. Or, as some call it, the Monty Hall Paradox.

Why should this ever be considered a paradox? The truth…it is just so simple! It is so easy to comprehend! If I — the guy running the show — picks one of doors with the cureloms in it, then I have done you a tremendous favor. I have changed the odds from 1 in 3 to 1 in 2!

Of course…now that it is 50/50…it really doesn’t matter if you stay or if you switch your door. Each has an equal likelihood of containing the prize, and each has an equal likelihood of containing curelom-goat.

…wrong.

Statistically, if you switch doors, your probability of winning everything doubles from 1/3 to 2/3.

…did you see that coming? (To those of you who already saw this before, did you see the answer coming the first time you saw it?) Can you make sense of this truth? If you mosey back to the wikipedia page I linked you, you can see an explanation — several, actually — of the probabilities. In fact, there are freakin’ proofs.

I see the Monty Hall Problem as one clear instance where what is true isn’t what is immediately intuitive or easy to comprehend (for most.) Other examples? 0.999~ = 1. The plane will take off of the treadmill. All of quantum physics. (I imagine that when I’m old and dying and science has come up with new physics paradigms, I’ll be eating that last one…)

So, that brings me to my topical question: should truth be expected to be simple or easy to comprehend?

Especially in Mormonism (and especially if we’ve lost or doubted or questioned our faith), we often have a nascent belief that truth should be simple. Perhaps even easy to comprehend. At the very least, when we understand true concepts and principles, it should enlighten. Make everything understood. Make sense. Our doubts often come in the situations when we find an incongruency in these expectations — we either found out that what was easy to swallow, easy to comprehend is seeming more and more unlikely to be true, or that what we have found to definitely be true is nevertheless complex, nuanced, and extremely difficult to grasp.

And we may know people (perhaps even ourselves) who deal with such incongruencies in different ways. We have talked endlessly of “putting things on the shelf” (or, if you will, establishing cold cases.) And when we discuss such things, different sides often respond in different ways.

Why should we shelve things? Don’t our doubts say meaningful things to us? Why should we continue to believe things that seem unintuitive, unlikely, incredible (in the more mundane sense of lacking credibility), or, well, unbelievable? Shouldn’t we follow our noses?

…or is it the case that we never ought to have expected truth to be simple and easy to comprehend? And rather than live lives where our assumptions and understood storylines seem all to work without problem, we were supposed to live with — as many people have also begun discussing — with tension, paradox, uncertainty, and mystery?

…nevertheless, this also produces bad business advice. I think it is one thing to say that the truth may, in fact, not be simple or easy to comprehend. However, this does not necessarily mean we should accept things that seem to us unlikely…just because we are throwing out a sense of intuition for the likeliness of truthful things (…or the truthfulness of likely things..?). But then, how do we decide which unlikelies are keepers, despite their complexity or elusiveness to grasp?

So, my question is: what is (or was) your relationship with the church and Mormonism? (I asked this question on my blog too, and there were a few answers.) What purpose did it/does it serve…what do you look for (or what did you look for) from it?

To give an example of what I’m trying to think about, let’s take three different people, whose positions I hope I have correctly surmised. These types aren’t meant to be comprehensive…I just had three people in mind.

Person A:

Person A looked for something that spoke out to him internally. Subjective/spiritual experience and validation were principally important to him. He wasn’t concerned about historical issues or theological issues, because those weren’t what he got or was looking from Mormonism. Rather, a pursuit of personal authenticity, personal peace and joy was what he was looking for. To the extent that the church did/does not lead toward these things, this disharmony was/is a dealbreaker.

OK; that’s person A.

Person B:

Person B had a different view from Person A. The subjective experiences person B got from Mormonism weren’t necessarily all that good (no ground-shattering revelations to share for fast and testimony meeting…), but these weren’t the matter of principal importance to him. Rather, even if the church caused him a great deal of pain, he dealt with whatever personal discomfort that came by recognizing that the church is simply true, so it is “necessary,” and may actually be a “necessary” (as a result of its facticity) “evil” (as a result of the personal pain it causes). However, if the church were not true (or if Person B sufficiently doubted such), then it would not make sense to continue to bear the burden.

OK.

Person C:

Person C had a different view from both Persons A and B. For C, again, the actual truth of historical events or theologies weren’t vitally important…and neither was personal peace…so to the extent that there were uncomfortable or controversial parts in either of these, the “reason” for being Mormon woudn’t be threatened. Instead, Person C’s relationship with Mormonism was that it was his community first and foremost. As a beneficiary of that community, he owed an allegiance to the community. Person C was invested in being a Mormonism and it, in turn, was invested in him. Regardless of the nature of history or theology or experience, the Mormon community he grew up in provided him with the backbone for seeing the world, for evaluating ethics, philosophy, and so on. And so far as that backbone was flexible and adaptable to the world, he continued to pay homage to his sustaining community.

…

As I said before, these examples aren’t mean to fit everyone and everything. They aren’t meant to be comprehensive. So my question…does your relationship fit into one of these or is it different? If it is different, how would you instead describe your relationship with Mormonism?

That being said, we do know that there is a divider between the glories and the non-glories. We have that ominous concept: Outer Darkness. But what does it mean? Who is it for?

Just as I’ve always taken Mormonism’s after life to be so much more universal than other afterlife formulations, I’ve naturally wanted to stretch out this universalism. So, my understanding has always been that the three glories of heaven will be quite generously populated and that outer darkness will be sparse and lonely indeed.

Let's hope life isn't like a Sierra game

I took for granted that to qualify for this terrible anti-prize of complete separation, a person would have to try pretty hard. I didn’t think it was like a Sierra game, where you can accidentally and irreversibly render the entire game unwinnable within the first five minutes of turning on the game. Instead, you had to do specific (and unlikely) things. Like, say, come to a fulness of the gospel, have an amazing experience as consequence of your full understanding (like, I dunno, see God), and then walk away from in all with rejection. And then, only after all of this, could you win your new prize of total estrangement from their Heavenly Father.

Even then…this consequence wouldn’t be something that God sentenced someone to. Rather, it would be an individual’s choice to walk away from it all after having seen so much.

That was how I understood it. So, when I realized that I — gasp — didn’t believe in the church’s teachings, the “what if” scenario for if the church ended up being correct anyway didn’t bother me. I would accept whatever I got, but my understanding was that I wouldn’t quite qualify for outer darkness.

…But it all hinges on what it means to have the fulness of the Gospel. After all, it might not mean the amazingness of seeing God face-to-face. We often say that we have the fulness of the Gospel. In this case, would this mean that all ex-Mormons are hosed?

Let’s look at some scriptures.

31 Thus saith the Lord concerning all those who know my power, and have been made partakers thereof, and suffered themselves through the power of the devil to be overcome, and to deny the truth and defy my power—

32 They are they who are the sons of perdition, of whom I say that it had been better for them never to have been born;

33 For they are vessels of wrath, doomed to suffer the wrath of God, with the devil and his angels in eternity;

34 Concerning whom I have said there is no forgiveness in this world nor in the world to come—

35 Having denied the Holy Spirit after having received it, and having denied the Only Begotten Son of the Father, having crucified him unto themselves and put him to an open shame.

36 These are they who shall go away into the lake of fire and brimstone, with the devil and his angels—

37 And the only ones on whom the second death shall have any power;

38 Yea, verily, the only ones who shall not be redeemed in the due time of the Lord, after the sufferings of his wrath.

Better off if we had never been born..?

The criteria here for receiving these scathing descriptors doesn’t seem too difficult to reach: just deny the Holy Ghost after having received it.

In the church, every member who is baptized has the laying on of hands to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. If we use that as the yardstick, then wouldn’t any apostate become one for who “it had been better for them never to have been born”?

Is this scripture one of the straightforward ones…or is it one that needs to be looked at more carefully? What do you say?

Could God evolve?

As part of a discussion group, I have been reading Robert Wright’s The Evolution of God. My group isn’t anywhere near finished (the “heart” of the book focuses on the three major Abrahamic religions — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — yet we’ve only finished through the part on Judaism that sets the stage for Christianity), but as I blogged about on my personal blog, I already have concerns about the arguments that Wright presents.

Some of my comments, however, may not necessarily apply to Mormonism. For example, Wright seems to rely on this idea of a God that can evolve. The big issue is that many believers are constrained to believing that God is constant and thus ineligible for evolution. However, Mormons — through ideas like eternal progression — may not have that reservation (depending on whether or not eternal progression is “in” or “out” of the theology du jour.)

So, what does Wright say?

This isn’t anywhere near comprehensive for Wright’s position, but one thing that reached out to me (on page 214):

What might qualify as evidence of a larger purpose at work in the world? For one thing, a moral direction in history. If history naturally carries human consciousness toward moral enlightenment, however slowly and fitfully, that would be evidence that there’s some point to it all. At least, it would be more evidence than the alternative — if history showed no discernible direction, or if history showed a downward direction: humanity as a whole getting more morally obtuse, more vengeful and bigoted.

Or, to put the point back into the context at hand: To the extent that “god” grows, that is evidence — maybe not massive evidence, but some evidence — of higher purpose.

And also, on page 221, after Wright introduces the concept of the logos as a kind of “algorithm” for the universe from God:

…Some say Philo believed a kind of direct contact with God was somehow possible; others talk about a union with “the divine” that falls short of communion with God himself.

But, however direct the connection, the first step to making it was to try to understand God and God’s will. Thus deciphering the Logos could bring enlightenment not just intellectually but spiritually. “The logos was meant to guide the human soul to the realm of the divine,” writes the scholar Thomas Tobin.

And what we also know is that “Logos” as an idea later landed in a little book testifying about a guy named Jesus…”In the beginning was Logos, and Logos was with God, and Logos was God.”

Matt Evans at Times and Seasons wrote about eternal progression as a necessity for a benevolent theodicy a long time ago.

I guess there are several possible directions to go with this. Obviously, Wright’s full position may not go in the direction we need to fit it with eternal progression, and these snippets don’t even truly grab the essence of the position. But…going with Wright, for some reason, somehow, history shows a trend of things getting better. This is indicated through a number of things — our general prosperity (despite ‘hiccups’ like financial crises and wars, we have accumulated great wealth and great scientific advancement), or our general ability to get along with each other, for example (think about Europe. Hundreds of years ago, a union would have been laughable. Now, it is a reality.)

But even more interesting is the way that our ideas of God and morality evolve as the rest of our society does. So, Wright points out that we have moved from an idea of a vengeful god to a glorious understanding of on who is benevolent in novel ways (in Mormonism, our exaltation includes eternal progression). Additionally, whereas even a hundred or two hundred years ago, rights for certain minorities would not have been on the table, today we can and do have discussions on prospects of egalitarianism (even if we don’t feel we as a society are in an ideal point, the important point is that somehow, we have started to feel that there is an ideal point).

Wright argues that this may be sign of some higher purpose.

Now, I have countered that using such an analogy doesn’t necessarily go as far as Wright needs it to. For example, in biological evolution, things appear to get “better,” but really, there isn’t a “forward” or “best.” There isn’t a “best species” that everything is moving toward. Rather, there are adaptations that are more successful to the given environments and adaptations that are less successful. Adaptation toward a better fit to the environment doesn’t necessarily show a higher purpose.

But…with eternal progression, we might avoid that. As long as there is knowledge and experience, shouldn’t our “environment” always be flexible…and if this is the case, shouldn’t we be always able to adapt to this environment? So, we don’t need to imply a “best” to recognize that progress itself, successful adaptation itself is the focus. As Ray points out on his blog, with eternal life, we yet have opportunity to progress in post-mortal life. At some point, our progress will appear so advanced (to us non-advanced peons…probably not to us when we’ve gotten there) that we will be able to do seemingly novel things (like, say…create worlds beyond numbers? — remember, we don’t have to be constrained to “ex nihilo”).

But to progress, we must discover and seek the correct principles — as Ray highlights, and which compare well to Logos — and so these principles too call for our change in order for us to grow.

Look at my name under the title. I am not Batman and don’t speak for Batman. His reasons are his own, and I’m sure plenty of people may still respectfully disagree with his decision. Rather, I would like to use this opportunity (if my fellow bloggers will let me) to take a look at a different message that, interestingly enough, also came from Ballard’s discussion, and which I find to be quite relevant to past events.

For while we were focusing on polygamy, whether it has been dealt with sufficiently, why it happened, why it’s still in our scriptures, etc., one commenter, Rach, said something that intrigued me. Unfortunately, since the comments are gone and I can’t find them, I have to paraphrase, but Rach pointed out that when we focus on the context of Elder Ballard’s message, he was talking about taking control of the Mormon conversation, especially with nonmember friends. So, positive and constructive quotes to focus on, I think, are:

It is easy in your conversations to think you are still knocking on doors. You’re not. If you are in a position to share what you believe, there’s no need to tread so carefully that you look like you are being evasive or anticipating criticism. The apostle Paul said, “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ” (Romans 1:16). Neither should any of us be.

and (right after the part Batman had focused on):

If people ask you about polygamy, just acknowledge it was once a practice but not now, and that people shouldn’t confuse any polygamists with our Church. In ordinary conversations, don’t waste time trying to justify the practice of polygamy during the Old Testament times or speculating as to why it was practiced for a time in the 19th century. Those may be legitimate topics for historians and scholars, but I think we simply reinforce the stereotypes when we make it a primary topic of conversations about the Church.

So, it doesn’t seem to be a memo of internal silencing. Rather, it seems to be putting things in their place. We can certainly become historians and scholars (and this is actually a progressive comment, contrasted with past attitudes about historical scholarship), but in ordinary conversations, we should, and I quote Ballard again, “emphasize that Latter-day Saints follow Jesus Christ and what Jesus Christ teaches.”

If Ballard is too intimidating for you, check out this comment from Seth R in response to Kullervo’s guest post at LDS & Evangelical Conversations or at his own blog.

So, let’s try to have a constructive conversation. Maybe it won’t work as planned. Maybe even this conversation will have to be curbed. While I think that a discussion of what Mormons should say about the whys and wherefores of polygamy or other issues could be a good topic at another time, at this time, I think we just do not have enough information to do much other than speculation.

What if we talked about how to take control about the conversation on Mormonism? If I may quote from an older article of John Dehlin’s, I’d point out that we should find it very reasonable to find empathy with this option.

You might feel as though the church has a responsibility to be completely open with all of its major flaws and weaknesses, but in the real world, this is probably not very realistic. For example, do you live up to this standard in your own life? Do you tell everyone you meet, or even everyone close to you, all of your deepest, darkest secrets? While it’s true that the LDS Church claims to be God’s one and only true church, we also acknowledge that in reality, it is run by imperfect men, in less-than-perfect circumstances. Given that realization, why would we expect the church to be any different? It is unreasonable to expect complete transparency from human beings and human organizations — even ones that claim divine authority. Humans simply don’t work that way.

We are not saying it is right for anyone to withhold information about their own wrongdoing from those who depend on them. Ideally, we should all be willing to confess the things we have done wrong and try to make amends. That is the ideal for individuals and for institutions. But we all fall short of that ideal sometimes, in some areas.

If we believe that, regardless of the warts, the LDS church is a force for good in the world, then wouldn’t it behoove us to show that good? I mean, if you don’t believe that, then ignore this paragraph accordingly, but I think Elder Ballard’s statement is good marketing and good conversation.

So, how should we steer the conversation in a productive way? How can we take control of the Mormon conversation instead of just being as “windtossed waves,” subject to whatever the controversy du jour (Big Love, Prop 8, a movie about some historical event, etc.,) is?

“God knows where the money is, and he knows how to get the money to you,” preached Mrs. Copeland, dressed in a crisp pants ensemble like those worn by C.E.O.’s.

…

Stephen Biellier, a long-distance trucker from Mount Vernon, Mo., said he and his wife, Millie, came to the convention praying that this would be “the overcoming year.” They are $102,000 in debt, and the bank has cut off their credit line, Mrs. Biellier said.

They say the Copelands rescued them from financial failure 23 years ago, when they bought their first truck at 22 percent interest and had to rebuild the engine twice in a year.

Around that time, Mrs. Biellier first saw Mr. Copeland on television and began sending him 50 cents a week.

Others who bought trucks from the same dealer in Joplin that year went under, the Bielliers said, but they did not.

“We would have failed if Copeland hadn’t been praying for us every day,” Mrs. Biellier said.

Err, odd.

While the very concept of a prosperity gospel (which involves sending money to the pastor in order to…gain money back in blessings?) seems insane, it’s probably the idea that people like the Copelands seem to be making this scheme work, yet don’t seem too keen on giving back that wealth that is most interesting.

The Book of Mormon foretells this. In fact, the various “pride cycles” in the Book of Mormon can be essentially summarized as a process by which righteous living does net you economic blessings (so the Copelands and others seem to be right about that much at least) [Does this bother you? TT of Faith Promoting Rumor agreed a while back; even we kinda addressed it], but which also leads to complacency, pride, an unwillingness to freely donate to those less fortunate, and then spiritual hardheartedness (and I’m thinking we can also see this with the various prosperity gospel pastors).

What are some notable scriptures in the Book of Mormon that we can relate? Let’s look at Alma 4: 1-12. Actually, I’ll hone in even closer, on verse 8, 9, and 10.

8 For they saw and beheld with great sorrow that the people of the church began to be lifted up in the pride of their eyes, and to set their ^ahearts upon riches and upon the vain things of the world, that they began to be scornful, one towards another, and they began to persecute those that did ^bnot believe according to their own will and pleasure.

9 And thus, in this eighth year of the reign of the judges, there began to be great ^acontentions among the people of the church; yea, there were ^benvyings, and ^cstrife, and malice, and persecutions, and pride, even to exceed the pride of those who did not belong to the church of God.

10 And thus ended the eighth year of the reign of the judges; and the wickedness of the church was a great ^astumbling-block to those who did not belong to the church; and thus the church began to fail in its progress.

What’s this? So it seems that the pride that comes about from this gospel-prosperity is written to exceed the pride of those even outside the church. This pride also led believing members, who probably felt themselves assured of their righteousness, to persecute those who did not believe. As a result, this wickedness from within the church was a turnoff to those outside the church.

OK, so I actually admit…this topic may have been a ruse. I don’t know or care much about Kenneth Copeland. I do know that he is not setting a good or admirable example for nonbelievers, and as a result he is tarnishing the Christian brand.

But what I got from this scripture wasn’t about them. It was about us. It wasn’t about their megachurch. It was about our church. Tylee85 didn’t need to pull up Korihor to find a suitable example. Others have suspected it.

When I think about things that don’t invite me to continue a conversation, Alma 4 actually hits it rather well. And yet too often I see members whose prides, whether its their pride in their material possessions or their pride in the gospel they have, serve as stumbling-block. Sometimes, I think members read so much about the material kind of pride that they forget that pride can be ideological too. It can lead to persecuting those who “do not believe according to their will and pleasure.”

But how do we avoid this, whatever our wills and pleasures are? The scriptures (and reality) aren’t so promising, with an almost reliable fall into pride (remember: the scriptures really don’t end on a happy note as to the fate of the Nephites.) It’s like we can’t (or shouldn’t) handle prosperity, yet we still attract it. It’s a lesson we keep failing, after which we whiz through our remedial courses, come to this lesson and fail it again.

But there was another curious (if bold) comment he had made…he points out how he feels in certain areas he hasn’t earned his morals, and that many members aren’t “earning” their morals. If one isn’t truly “earning his morals” from following guidance like the Word of Wisdom or the Law of Chastity, then how do we avoid or move past simply practicing a modern and vain form of legalism?

The meaningful part for this discussion was:

I worry that Brigham Young’s fears may be prophetic – the LDS Church cannot stand wealth. It cannot withstand success. We have grown fat and complacent in our certainties and blessings. We have taken our moral rightness for granted. We have taken our status as chosen people for granted.We have been given a pearl of great price, and thus far, we seem content to use it as a paperweight.

That is the fundamental flaw with Mormon fundamentalism. It’s smug. It’s prideful. It’s complacent. It takes it’s own blessed status with God for granted…

The trouble with the “cultural conservative” view in Mormonism…is not that they advocate for strong morals. The problem is that they really did nothing to earn those morals.

I never slept with any woman before my wedding night. But, while I am grateful for that, I take no moral self-satisfaction from it. The truth is, I didn’t have sex with girls before then because I was raised not to. And frankly, I was too shy as a teenager to ever get to the point with a girl where sex was even a possibility. I earned no right to feel smug about my “purity” as opposed to the drunk frat boys I kept hearing about. What did I earn? What basis for pride on the issue did I ever have?

But modern Mormon culture takes exactly this position. The modern generation of Mormons rest on laurels they have not earned, tout morals that are not truly theirs, and pray to a God that they cannot know – because their preconceptions keep getting in the way.

The cry of “all is well in Zion” has gone on long enough. I think I’d like to see some new sermons.

How can one truly earn his morals? I mean, obviously, a drunk frat boy who converts will see the clear distinction between his past and present life (and the hope is that he’ll feel he’s moved “up”)…but that’s it wouldn’t be safe to say that all of the BIC youth should be shuffled into big sin just to show them what it’s like.

Or is the point simply that we shouldn’t take moral self-satisfaction anyway? After all, if we’re all counseled to be humble, isn’t it silly to dash all that away by being proud of having the Gospel when instead one should remain humble to have it?

And relating to that legalism thing…are we fulfilling the spirit of things through our obedience to the letter of things? Or is the the case that unearned morals still obstruct our view of trying to show true charity to others?

Do you think Seth is on to something, or is he just an angry, angry man?

And translation accuracy is very important to us. After all, we have an article of faith devoted to it.

We believe the Bible to be the word of God as far as it is translated correctly; we also believe the Book of Mormon to be the word of God.

But even with this 8th article of faith, it doesn’t necessarily preclude the use of other translations. And it certainly doesn’t preclude any other official translations from the church.

I guess it would make sense if we pointed out that the reason we use the King James Version (or, again, a version based heavily off of it) is simply because of tradition and heritage. After all, Joseph Smith was inevitably most familiar with it. Most of the popular translations nowadays (NIV, NRSV, etc.,) weren’t even dreamed of back then.

And as the First Presidency Statement on the King James Version notes (sorry, you have to scroll down this page):

While other Bible versions may be easier to read than the King James Version, in doctrinal matters latter-day revelation supports the King James Version in preference to other English translations. All of the Presidents of the Church, beginning with the Prophet Joseph Smith, have supported the King James Version by encouraging its continued use in the Church.

(Emphasis added.)

Still, it seems like tradition and heritage are insufficient to keep us tied so closely to the KJV. After all, while the King James Version may have an almost lyrical quality that reminds us of Shakespeare, is it the most understandable? To the 21st century reader, no. English has changed so much since King James’s time that even though the KJV’s Jacobean English is called “modern” and is technically readable (the same as Shakespeare — none of these are “Middle” or “Old” English, which are unintelligible languages to us without having a class in them) it still takes time and energy to understand some idioms and to decipher words whose meanings have changed on us since then! Certainly, we learn that charity=love and suffer=permit or allow, but isn’t it strange that we have to learn the language to read our own scriptures in (and those aren’t the only archaisms within)?

Do we forget (or sometimes never learn) of the very humane connotation of the holy “breath,” because “spirit” and “ghost” (which are indeed faithful translations of the concept) don’t quite have those connotations in English? And what confusion must translation cause, since in some instances, words have changed to mean the opposite of what they once did?

I find it very curious what the First Presidency had said before the part I quoted:

Many versions of the Bible are available today. Unfortunately, no original manuscripts of any portion of the Bible are available for comparison to determine the most accurate version. However, the Lord has revealed clearly the doctrines of the gospel in these latter-days. The most reliable way to measure the accuracy of any biblical passage is not by comparing different texts, but by comparison with the Book of Mormon and modern-day revelations.

…Because personally, I would like to see different texts of the Book of Mormon as well, but I recognize we don’t have a whole lot of options here either.

It just seems strange to me…why couldn’t we take the autographs or manuscripts that we have (even if they are copies of copies) and then work on a translation from whole cloth with them? After all, the Evangelicals basically did that with the New International Version (although, that makes it problematic for any non-Evangelicals who don’t want spin). Couldn’t the church authorize a more understandable modern translation of the Bible in accordance to the 8th article of faith so that we could say this one is translated correctly? (or, if translations aren’t the problems but sources are, couldn’t we note that instead, as the First Presidency Statement notes?)

What’s good in a Bible translation? Have any of you ventured outside of the King James microcosm (so the New KJV doesn’t count!)? If you have, was it only for personal study, or did you read along with your family or use in classes? What did others think or say? What do you think when someone relates to you a verse from another translation?

See Also: Nitsav’s post on other translations at Faith-Promoting Rumor. or Jack’s post with LDS-Evangelical interfaith viewpoint.

…so I was digging through classic Mormon Matters and found Clay’s discussion asking: how much does church activity has to do with being Mormon anyway? He opened with something interesting:

Not so long ago, when I would hear about someone who didn’t go to church at all or have any interest in returning would refer to themselves as Mormon, I would be annoyed that they still identified themselves that way. I used to see being Mormon as a choice, as a religious path, and if you aren’t choosing it then you only make a bad name for the rest of us… or so I felt at that time.

I was excited…a post aimed at me! Yet later (the very next sentence), he writes:

Yet, it seems there is something deeply cultural about being Mormon, especially those raised or at least members from a young age.

Oh.

So, I thought…Most of us recognize the depth of Mormonism as a culture. (If you don’t, I’ll submit that you’re behind the times and T&S has already jumped aboard). If so, I think Clay’s next question (again, the very next sentence), is good:

How much does your activity in church determine how “Mormon” you really are?

(I promise I’m not just stealing Clay’s post. Seriously.)

The question is…what are the traits that make Mormonism endure as a culture and not simply religion? When people leave certain religions, the break is clean. Many people don’t linger for years and years as an “ex-Baptist,” for example. But with our church, we have that famous phrase about people who “leave the church but can’t leave it alone.” (And I’m under e-indictment for being an anti-Mormon, of all things, because of such a claim.) You may similarly know “lapsed Catholics” or  “secular Jews” (let’s ignore the elephant of actual ethnicity for that one).

With Mormonism in particular, we have a particularly strange phenomenon where ex-members can end up being vehemently opposed to the church, but they simply are not able to move away from their old heritage. Ignoring any possible faith-promoting answers (“ooh, that’s the Holy Ghost~!”), we can at least realize that we have a pervasive culture in our hearts. And it may be a good idea to delve deeper in how or what this culture is, so we can (try to) improve it.

From a comment a long time ago on the unlikeliest of places (Prop 8 day at LDS & Evangelical Conversations blog), Seth R. from Nine Moons remarked [I hope my comment patchwork isn't a misinterpretation]:

I’d have a much easier time renouncing US citizenship than my faith. I don’t feel that (“American” describes me a whole lot more comprehensively than “Mormon”). I felt more in common with Mormons in Japan than I do with people in my own town right now.

I was impressed with these comments, so I posted about it a while back. As a military kid, I can certainly agree that I don’t feel I have a “home” in any one location or nation, but I most certainly have a lot in common with fellow Mormons. We share a language.

But indeed, I do present a conundrum, as Clay points out. Can a nonbeliever be Mormon just because he was raised that way? Does it have anything to do with being born into the church? Hawkgrrrl wrote a comment to Clay’s post:

I think there is a difference between a convert who leaves the church and one who was BIC and leaves the church. In the former case, there would probably be less “residual Mormanity” than in the latter case. Being raised Mormon (vs. being a previously practicing Mormon).

Is that so? I talked with BHodges at Life on Gold Plates and he made an interesting point for BIC ex-mormons who relinquish their “residual Mormanity.”

Do regionalisms matter? Am I less culturally Mormon because I’ve never lived in Utah? Because I am thankful for rain, not moisture? In the past, BCC has had a Mormon culture tournament…could we make an accurate cultural literacy test from it?

Cultural Mormonism has been viewed as that weird Utah thing, something that degrades true religion. On the other hand…children with Mormon identities, as long as they are happy with this identity, indeed “never depart” from it. (If they are unhappy with it, they also never depart from it, and that produces bad consequences for all.) What say you?

If cultural Mormonism is focused in the Jello Belt, then what does that say about a religion that thrives from converts (especially converts in other nations)? While it seems intuitive to say a Utah Mormon understand culture more than a Japanese Mormon…it seems contradiction.

I have my eye on correlation. With correlation, every ward gets a similar foundation. So, the basic LDS lingo is the same everywhere. This, in combination with the church’s many activities, opportunities, standards, and practices, should “socialize” members who will attend for a critical period. So, perhaps it is that one must be active for some critical period to be socialized, and then they become culturally Mormon, regardless of future activity. This would allow for Seth to identify with the other Japanese saints, while allowing for regionalist distinctions. This will also allow for a culture that one doesn’t easily depart from, even when they want to.

And so, as a new question that has sprung about, what do you think about the pervasiveness of the culture? What does it mean for ex-members who remain? Does it possibly work against the church to create anti-Mormons? And who is anti- anyway? Is it anyone who disbelieves and speaks about it?

32 Therefore, if a seed groweth it is good, but if it groweth not, behold it is not good, therefore it is cast away.

33 And now, behold, because ye have tried the experiment, and planted the seed, and it swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, ye must needs know that the seed is good.

…

36 Behold I say unto you, Nay; neither must ye lay aside your faith, for ye have only exercised your faith to plant the seed that ye might try the experiment to know if the seed was good.

37 And behold, as the tree beginneth to grow, ye will say: Let us nourish it with great care, that it may get root, that it may grow up, and bring forth fruit unto us. And now behold, if ye nourish it with much care it will get root, and grow up, and bring forth fruit.

38 But if ye ^aneglect the tree, and take no thought for its nourishment, behold it will not get any root; and when the heat of the sun cometh and scorcheth it, because it hath no root it withers away, and ye pluck it up and cast it out.

39 Now, this is not because the seed was not good, neither is it because the fruit thereof would not be desirable; but it is because your ^aground is ^bbarren, and ye will not nourish the tree, therefore ye cannot have the fruit thereof.

40 And thus, if ye will not nourish the word, looking forward with an eye of faith to the fruit thereof, ye can never pluck of the fruit of the ^atree of life.

…

So there. Let it be known that it’s untrue that we never use scriptures on Mormon Matters.

That being said, I might appear to be too critical for some, so that’s my disclaimer.

Alma 32 is a curious set of scriptures for the church. In verse 27 we have the famous (at least, famous to me) admonition that if one can only desire to believe, then they should go for it. And 28 begins a rather popular analogy of faith (BIG EDIT: the word…it even clearly says it…so I don’t know why people [and even I] turn this to faith) to a seed that can be nourished and grown.

And this set of scriptures is also clever. Clever enough that it chaps my hide. I mean, obviously, I’m biased, but have you ever thought about it?

Alma 32:32 seems most reasonable. It seems a lot about what kinds of things we hear about in church. Test the spirits to know if they are true. If you have a good idea, you’ll get a burning in your bosom. If you have a not so good idea, you’ll get a stupor of thought. So, you can develop a rule of thumb for discerning ideas. And the role of faith seems clear — to begin the process. Surely, the seed (the word) might look like a dud to you, and common sense might suggest it’ll never work out, but common sense isn’t too common or sensical, so faith is the ability to take the first step and plant the seed anyway.

But 32:32 has a reasonable out: what doesn’t grow is discarded. When you get a stupor of thought, you don’t continue. You go back to the drawing board.

So far, so good.

I’ll compare with real world paradigms. In the real world, I might undertake something that I might think is unlikely. I might make a hypothesis and hope it’s true, but not know. This is faith for the real world. So far, so good. But in the real world, things that are true will manifest themselves as true regardless of anything else. I might be incredulous that flipping a light switch will turn on a light, but regardless of if I believe or not, the light will turn on with the switch (as long as the circuitry isn’t broken). The only faith is in getting over my possible initial incredulity to flipping the switch.

Yet what if something else happens?

What if your seed never sprouts? The word doesn’t “do it” for you. What if it never grows? In the real world, you try something else. Yet in the church we have so often a different cultural idea backed by certain other scriptures: such as D+C 14:7: “And, if you ^akeep my commandments and ^bendure to the end you shall have ^ceternal life, which gift is the greatest of all the gifts of God.” This doesn’t imply any necessity of results, so what commonly is asserted is that people just need to be more patient, continue following the commandments, continue hoping, etc.,

OK, OK, so that’s fair enough. One could make an extended argument for faith with that vein. Looking at verses 16 – 19 from the Alma 32 gets us similar things.

But here’s the question…here’s the thought experiment. What if we applied this same concept to everything in life? What if, in particular, we applied this concept to other churches? Alma 32 works reasonably if we are freely able to determine when the seed is dead and bad…but if we presuppose that a seed is good (obviously, the Book of Mormon and the church presuppose the word is true), even despite the results, and just say, “Just endure…just desire to believe…just wait…just have patience,” then how are we to discern anything? We might say that the reason we are Mormon instead of Catholic or Baptist is because Mormon tenets appealed to us more, but couldn’t it be that we needed to just desire to believe in Catholicism, exercise a particle of faith and (if we still did not having any confirming experiences), endure to the end in faith, yet we negligently failed to do so?

This is why I believe instead that some part of our belief or disbelief is not chosen (and Jeff or someone else here will probably offer a rebuttal either here or in another article, so stay tuned, folks!) We don’t just in a gungho way say, “I’m going to be Catholic, have faith, and endure to the end.” Because when we set that criteria, we strip away our ability to discern between anything — why not do that with Islam? With Buddhism? With anything else?

Rather, we are already inclined in certain directions…some people are already inclined to Catholicism…and others to Mormonism…and others to other things. When people move with their inclination, then they will find that those personal and subjective seeds will grow. But this is not forced. You don’t make a Catholic seed grow if you are not inclined to believe in Catholicism. Rather, the doctrines and theology will seem disagreeable, and you’ll regret forcing it upon yourself. But the same is true for Mormonism or anything else.

Unfortunately, Liebniz was a little off the mark. We live in a good world (again, if you disagree, please just go with this one so I can have a snappy article)…but not the best of all possible worlds. So, now, we have to play a game of compromise. If you couldn’t have someone get everything and more from the church, what one thing would you want anyone to get from the church instead?

If you’ve read my posts or my blog, then you will guess that the thing I got from the church was not the theology and spirituality. That one didn’t stick after all. However, I did get a culture that remains with me still. And even now, I realize how in many ways, I’m still, as they say, in the world but not of it. So, even if I don’t affiliate with the theology of the church or assert its divinity, I would like to think that members I know can still say at the end of the day, “Even if that Andrew S guy doesn’t believe, he’s still an OK guy.” And I would like to think that my Mormon upbringing has had something (among others) to do with that.

So, for me, I would like to think that if someone gets something out of the church, it’s a way to be a better person. It’s a code for living. It’s a culture.

…but even I realize that I have arguments against that very thing, and others do too. For example, am I still completely sure that the church’s prescription is always “better”? Even though I have taken from the church a sense of not being a raving drunkard or a sex fiend, this does not necessarily mean that drinking is bad or sex is bad. So my prudeness (not to be confused with prudence), even though it makes me proud to say that I could pass the Law of Chastity or Word of Wisdom sections of a temple interview without breaking a sweat, might be seen as an undesirable thing by others, not a good thing.

And while I would hope that other members would look at my actions and way of living as the most important thing…perhaps they wouldn’t. For example, I could easily see someone saying that the one thing someone should get from the church is belief in the core principles. I know people who have committed some rather big sins and transgressions (some from personal knowledge, others just from that implied knowledge that they must have done something big to get in their position of unworthiness with priesthood and sacrament matters)…but they surely have stayed in the church, and some other members I know are more grateful for that. Because even if these guys aren’t repenting (although some are), they know what’s what when it comes to believing.

So, what do you think? If only one thing, what should someone get out of the church? You can be creative here.

I wanted to make a qualification and…perhaps…a defense…of what he lambastes as a “consumer model” of religion…especially since recently on my blog, I’ve been talking about the need to find one’s philosophical “fit” (and others have written about similar issues).

Part of me wants to summarize John’s main points. The other part (perhaps that militant atheist one) wants me to tell you all to not be lazy and read that BCC post (the first link — it’s good) [partially because I'll probably botch things up in a summary and partially because I will make this post too long if I summarize here.]I like his general framework. For some/many people, their belief is jump started by spiritual experience. I liken this to “faith,” and I, like John, think it is unchosen. We diverge, though, because I think this trait is something of an inclination — so I think it remains unchosen, but John supposes that the choice to ignore or rationalize an initial spiritual experience gives us the option to choose faith (or not) after the initial opportunity. I disagree, because I believe that faith is the inclination that reaches to the core of certain people — so the rationalization or rejection would not do much but create discomfort within a person from their denial (but, in the same way, someone with true doubt would be just as uncomfortable trying to believe when he doesn’t.)

So, continuing…the reason John has to set this apart is because he’s talking about a diarist who has beliefs that put him at odds with the church in several places. And, I guess some people questioned why the diarist would remain even though he noticeably had several ideological differences from the church. The answer seemed obvious to John and the diarist — he still had faith and religions just don’t work that way.

The answer seems obvious to me that if the guy does indeed have faith (which he does), then of course he should stay. Cool.

But John continues with an interesting analysis…he classifies a popular misunderstanding of religion as being something like shopping. You shop for things that fit you, things that you like. If a religion is inconvenient or potentially offensive, find a new one. And that, John says, is stupid. This consumer model of religion leads to people just validating their current beliefs and actions and not progressing.

Eee. So, here’s my beef. I place a premium on people discovering what resonates within themselves. I do believe in a consumer model of religion. But…I disagree in the way religions should be chosen and in the implications of this choice.

I think the criteria we all should use is not the nuts or bolts of particular religions necessarily…but rather a more holistic approach that takes into consideration our inclinations. It goes back to the idea of faith (or doubt) and of knowing yourself well enough to know what “fits.” The diarist should stay because he finds a fit between his faith and his positions. This doesn’t mean the church is for everyone, or that believing in a certain way is for everyone.

So, in this case, it appears that even with a consumer model of religion, you can have room for growth…but then again, I think that is the case everywhere. There are infinite possibilities for growth because what resonates with you — whether it is faith of some sort or a lack thereof — doesn’t automatically equate with where you currently are, so really, what we are doing is coming to grips with who we want to develop into and what our fits are. Even if you like the path you currently are on, you can still work to radically improve that position.

“What’s your point, Andrew S?” you may be asking. Meanwhile, I lost 37% of you when I said “ex-mormon atheist.” (And hopefully not more than that since then).

My point is…we need a sensible way to deal. When we confront personal challenges, which are the ones we should work through and stay with (to learn and grow), and which are ones we should avoid? It’s easy to say, “Everyone should be Mormon and should be Mormon in a very specific way,” and perhaps many truly believe that is the best policy, but I think we can each think of people who have suffer greatly because they are trying to believe in what they have heard is the “right way,” but in the process, they are running themselves into the ground by constantly denying their true feelings. However, as John noted, it may be just as easy for the other side to say, “Well, if you can’t believe everything, you should abandon everything,” but this is just as extreme and does not take into consideration that people may not want to abandon a faith they do have just because of rough spots.

So why do we keep up with it? Why do we persist?

For the past few weeks, I have been doing a lot of recruiting and networking events. I’m not even going to lie — even in such a poor economy, I’m living quite well as multiple accounting firms try to convince me to intern for their firm. So, included with that are all kinds of fringe benefits — plenty of events and activities and dinners and mixers and whatnot.

And I dunno…maybe it’s a Texas thing…but many times at these various events, they’ll only have two drinks available — tea and water. And even at one, they only had one drink available: tea. I don’t know what happened to the water.

So, I guess this is no big deal for everyone else and I’m putting a magnifying glass on something that is really quite trivial to everyone else, but occasionally, I have been asked why I won’t touch my glass.

I don’t drink tea.

Well, ok…but why not? This is Texas, after all! (I’ve had someone say that).

In many ways, it would be so easy to say, “Because of my religion.” But, I realize this is a copout answer (and not even a true copout answer for me, since I’m living on the dark side of the moon now). I mean, certainly people would understand if it was against your religion…but seriously, is that it?

Personally, I had tea once…it was disgusting. But that’s also a copout answer (because there are many things I have not tried [which coincidentally also fit in the word of wisdom], so I couldn’t necessarily use that excuse).

But it seems to me…and maybe this is dark-side-of-the-moon thinking…that we should be acting not because our religion restrains us (which is what the answer, “Because of my religion” so often sounds like), but because we personally are motivated not to do certain things and are motivated to do other things. I can say…I am not motivated to drink, so I do not. I’ve seen others succumb to the peer pressure, but maybe I’m a robot and immune to it. Whatever the case is, if I don’t want to do something, I’m not going to do it*. (Unfortunately for my bishop and parents, I suppose, this also applies to the church or parental requests.) *But perhaps the whole point of peer pressure is that group pressure can change your very wants.

So, what’s been more interesting of a question to me is…how do we want to do certain things, and learn to want to not do other things? It’s easy to realize that “we act because we are motivated to act in certain ways.” And it’s also easy to recognize that, with free will, we can choose to act against our natural motivations (although the jury is out on whether this is a net positive in all cases). But this just backs the question up one step, and now we have to wonder about what motivates us and how we can change these motivations.

My question is this…who should go to church and what should we expect of the people who go to church? Recently over at T&S (and I guess it’s spilled over in some comments in this latest article), there has been a tone that suggests that Cafeteria, Middle-of-the-way, or New Order Mormons are (or should be) a concern to the church. As Bookslinger comments,

I think the drift within the LDS church is also illustrated in the bloggernacle, not just those who’ve formally left the church, but also new order Mormons and middle-way Mormons. There are also those who claim to be solidly in the Mormon camp, but still attenuate some core beliefs. In addition to the cafeteria style “I’ll take a full serving of this, and some of this, but none of that,” people now seem to be nuancing, or adding shades of grey to, things that I had previously thought of as black-and-white, go-or-no-go.

Rather than admitting that one can’t or won’t comply with requirement “X” of the gospel (or of church policy), some people nuance away or diminish “X” as non-essential, or even as an incorrect element.

Rather than figuratively beating one’s breast and admitting a lack of faith/shortcoming/sin, the item is just dismissed or nuanced away.

Ouch. Somehow I feel as if he had some people in mind with some of these thoughts. Regardless, what it got me thinking about was…what should be the goal?

I’ve seen a lot of John Dehlin’s works about staying LDS, and regardless of whether this is still representative (I’m not totally sure, so I’m not sure if I’m completely misrepresenting his views), it seems to me that it distinctly disagrees with someone like Bookslinger’s view. Bookslinger’s comment seems to suggest (maybe it’s just my imagination) that there is an ideal belief system and all members should be striving to move to acceptance to that belief system. If they do not, they should understand clearly that they are not “nuanced” or in “gray areas,” but they are unorthordox, faithless, wrong, or sinful.

If that indeed is the position that Bookslinger (or anyone else) takes, then I suppose that’s not a bad position to take, if one will take it. However, the side effect that it produces is that it creates this incredible barrier to entry that can actually serve to push people on the margins (whether inside or outside the church) away.

This is contrasted, however, with those who would suggest that the number of “core beliefs” is more limited, so there is actually a wide range of flexibility in the church. People should not feel pressured to have to believe a certain way or leave, but instead should make the church work for them.

I see advantages and disadvantages to both. The hardline stance seems just a touch more appealing (because sometimes, you need to strong understanding of what is acceptable or what is not), but on the other hand, the hardline stance also makes it quite easy to look at it all and say no. The flexible stance makes staying in the church more appealing, but it may shy down on providing the tough love needed to provide transformational change.

If the goal is to have people go to church and keep going, then it seems like one might want to consider more flexibility. However, if the goal is to have a more committed community (even if that community is smaller), then perhaps one should worry about quality over quantity and stick with potentially unpopular, unyielding ideas.

I couldn't resist one of these

And while I ranted on my blog about how offensive I found various parts of one recently received email…I realized too that I found a strange comfort in realizing that it was just a generic Christian chain mail. This served to be one of the times when I was deeply thankful that we Mormons are a peculiar people — I realized that some of the ‘pop’ doctrines espoused in this email would be uncharacteristic for an LDS email. So, I wondered…what if we could deconstruct Christian chain mail and come up with LDS orthodox counterpoints?

So, the email, and some points to lead our discussion after the break!

A man from Norfolk , VA called a local radio station to share this on Sept 11th, 2003, TWO YEARS AFTER THE TRAGEDIES OF 9/11/2001. His name was Robert Matthews. These are his words:

A few weeks before Sept. 11th, my wife and I found out we were going to have our first child.. She planned a trip out to California to visit her sister.  On our way to the airport, we prayed that God would grant my wife a safe trip and be with her. Shortly after I said ‘amen,’ we both heard a loud pop and the car shook violently. We had blown out a tire. I replaced the tire as quickly as I could, but we still missed her flight. both very upset, we drove home..

I received a call from my father who was retired NYFD. He asked what my wife’s flight number was, but I explained that we missed the flight.

My father informed me that her flight was the one that crashed into the southern tower. I was too shocked to speak. My father also had more news for me; he was going to help. ‘This is not something I can’t just sit by for; I have to do something.’

I was concerned for his safety, of course, but more because he had never given his life to Christ. After a brief debate, I knew his mind was made up.  Before he got off of the phone, he said, ‘take good care of my grandchild.  Those were the last words I ever heard my father say; he died while helping in the rescue effort.

My joy that my prayer of safety for my wife had been answered quickly became anger. I was angry at God, at my father, and at  myself. I had gone for nearly two years blaming God for taking my father away. My son would never know his grandfather, my father had never accepted Christ, and I never got to say good-bye.

Then something happened. About two months ago, I was sitting at home with my wife and my son, when there was a knock on the  door. I looked at my wife, but I could tell she wasn’t expecting anyone. I opened the door to a couple with a small child.

The man looked at me and asked if my father’s name was Jake Matthews. I told him it was. He quickly grabbed my hand and said, ‘I never got the chance to meet your father, but it is an honor to meet his son.’

He explained to me that his wife had worked in the World Trade Center and had been caught inside after the attack. She was pregnant and had been caught under debris. He then explained that my father had been the one to find his wife and free her.  My eyes welled up with tears as I thought of my father giving his life for people like this. He then said, ‘there is something else you need to know.’

His wife then told me that as my father worked to free her, she talked to him and led him to Christ. I began sobbing at the news.

Now I know that when I get to Heaven, my father will be standing beside Jesus to welcome me, and that this family would be able to thank him themselves .

…This story should help us to realize this: God is always in control.

We may not see the reason behind things, and we may never know this side of heaven, but God is ALWAYS in control.

Please take time to share this amazing story.  You may never know the impact it may have on someone.. God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.  His love endures Forever.  Psalm 136:1
May God bless you, and your family,

So, some of my possible points of discussion:

• What would be official answers about the disturbing implications of predistination in such situations. How does free will play a role, and how would miracles or other intervening acts play out?
• How would LDS doctrines about baptisms by proxy and the nature of the afterlife play into our concerns about the mortal states of our relatives’ salvations?
• What does it mean that “God is in control” if it is a different interpretation than this email’s?
• The line: “God doesn’t call the qualified; God qualifies the called” — how does it mesh with LDS teachings about fore-ordination, or the process of ordination and setting apart?

I’m sure there are several writers on site who are busily searching through intellectual copyright law as I speak, so I must speak quickly before I get shut down (not to mention before the Bearded, Blue-Shirt-Wearing African Americans and Women who love Pr0n nab me for libel).

The other day, John C at BCC made another Monday Morning Theological Poll and asked: “True or False: If someone wishes to leave the church, it is because they have some grave, unconfessed sin?”

…I don’t know how representative BCC is of Mormondom as a whole, but if we can but abuse statistics for this one time, we can come to the conclusion that, overwhelmingly, Mormons do not believe such a claim. Just looking at the stats, more Mormons percentage-wise say “no” to such a claim than Facebookers hate the new Facebook design (drat, that’s a lie: Facebook’s current 93% hate [with millions of votes] tops the 91% of BCCers that say false. But if Obama’s 53% of the popular vote can be a landslide and Prop 8′s 52% can just be a “narrow victory,” then I’m game for anything statistic-wise.) I’ll add Obama supporters to the list of people coming after me.

Anyway, this post isn’t about that. That has nothing to do with B, B-S-W A-As (in particular, didn’t Obama say he can’t even grow a good beard?). or those W-w-l-P. In fact, what piqued my attention was a comment further down the page:

Actually, it has been conclusively shown that people who leave the Church are those who believe that people leave the Church because they have some grave, unconfessed sin.

I was thinking about this…and I realized I had to approach it delicately.

I guess I’m not going to speak so much about depression so much, because while I speak in jest, I don’t mean to jest about people who suffer from this condition. But I know as well that there are those who seem to attract this kind of…I dunno…sour attitude about things. Oh, the Church can’t do this right. And the church can’t do that right. How dare the Church support this but say little about that?

I’m sure that all of these things are of the utmost importance and people have to stick by their principles, but could it be that sometimes, people just take things too seriously? I mean, in the end, people need to decide if they will take something or if they will not, and if they will not, they need to start the process of trying to move past and move away.

I mean, if you’re going to be bearded and blue-shirt-wearing, for example, recognize that you’ll face some flak. If that’s too much for you, say bye (because really, if you don’t want, you don’t have to take it), but be secure in your decision. But don’t think you’ll be off the hook. You will face stigma no matter where you go or what you do, so you might as well pick something that you are comfortable with and then go forward with that.

See, while I was already interested in the paper because he tried to analyze the Ex-Mormon exit narrative (I’m just a sucker for that…even if someone gets it wrong [it happens more often than I'd care to admit], but fortunately Seth had a reasonable analysis, I think) what I didn’t expect was in this shift that Seth took. Rather than speaking about how flawed and petty and prideful Ex-Mormons must be or whatever, he notes:

…the narratives themselves seem to be driven by an estrangement process both doctrinal and social. I believe that we, as liberal and intellectual Mormons are partially to blame for perpetuating these feelings of estrangement.

I discussed this a bit on my blog, but I wanted to discuss this again because I hadn’t really quite seen something like it. He continues:

For too long we have been marginal to Mormon culture and have conceived of ourselves as “the other.” In many cases, we have defined ourselves by what we are not and by what we do not believe, rather than as what we are and by what truths we have found. Rather than positively affirm our faith, we have often sought identity through the discovery and adoption of heterodox views. The irony of course, is that the whole notion of orthodoxy is anathema to Mormonism. There is no orthodoxy, but merely the perception thereof.

Regardless of any particular truth claim or its so-called validity, there is one observable and tangible, yet amazingly silent reality. In our midst there are those who struggle and suffer with their faith. There are those who feel alone and isolated and whose world-views are shattering regardless of how much they fast, pray, hold family home evening, or read the Book of Mormon. These saints often feel as if they are alone.

At first glance, Mormonism may give off the appearance of a homogeny of culture and belief, yet, there is a strong undercurrent of lively discussion, debate, belief, and conversation involving a wide-range of Latter-day Saints who may or may not accept all of modern Mormonism’s unique truth claims. I believe that we, who are engaged in this conversation are called to make our faith manifest to kindred spirits – to validate their struggle, to share our experiences, our doubts, and our love. Recently, one first-time attendee of Sunstone West commented on his blog: “Sunstone attendees treated me exactly the way we hope and ask ward members to treat all newcomers.” Let us extend that experience beyond the walls of this symposium. Let us, in our unique and individual way, seek out those who need and want to hear our perspective and our testimony

And then, as opening to his conclusion:

In conclusion, may I suggest that those of us who consider ourselves Mormon liberals or intellectuals come “out of the shadows”, as it were, and assume a pastoral role for those who may become ex-Mormon. By existing and behaving as a sub-culture, rather than as an integral part of the larger Mormon tapestry of experience, we contribute to the myth of Mormon orthodoxy. By this I mean that every Latter-day Saint struggles with their faith, prefers some doctrines over others, and ultimately forms a unique world-view informed, but not strictly defined by LDS theology. Certainly, some of our brothers and sisters will find that they are more comfortable outside the Church. We will miss them. However, many who struggle are seeking a reason to stay; to retain their heritage and develop a faith which is informed by their Mormon roots.

I was reminded by another post or comment somewhere on the bloggernacle: I don’t know if it was here or BCC or wherever else, but someone was lamenting on this unfortunate trend that they saw. They might see one lone black family in their ward, but after a while, the family would leave, feeling they were alone and misunderstood. Soon, there might be another black family in the ward, but since the first had left, they too might feel they were alone in their experience and leave. And the cycle would continue.

I don’t know how many members who would consider themselves “liberal” go here, but from what I’ve seen, I wouldn’t think that MM is opposed to this message of coming out. And while I’m not saying that it would convert me to the gospel or anything, I would say that if church were more like MM or Sunstone, that would be a lot more comfortable to many members.

So, are we all out of the closet? Two separate causes, but the analogy, I think, is apt.

What even works? What doesn’t work?