It is not intentional.  In fact, I have, and would still call myself a feminist.  What are my qualifications for such a preposterous claim?  Well, first I wholeheartedly support equal rights and opportunities for women in all forms within a society.  Second, I was raised by feminist (then-single) Mormon housewife/full-time teacher.  Third, I have studied, support and work with feminist theory and research in my University education.  Fourth, I try to support my wife in her decisions regarding being a working-mum or SAHM.

Yet, none of this did not help realise something.  Lisa described this way, ‘When I got married I really thought that we would be equal partners, and we were.  We really were.  He did as much of the housework as I did, we both worked, we both made money… But as soon as I had a baby I was just shocked at how my world changed and how there was no equality anymore.  I was shocked of how much of that burden fell on me.’

From a different perspective Reese Dixon both glories and laments being able to have only one ‘role’; that of being a mother.

I guess I have failed to see how our relationship is becoming more unequal.  It started out great, I think.  She worked while I was at School and I did the majority of the housework and the cooking.  Shortly after I was married I was called to a position that meant I was out a few evenings of the week; and then things began to change.  A short time later, my calling changed, and I was out more.  We moved, but I kept the same calling, had a baby and I graduated.  We managed that ok, I was home a lot and tried to make sure I would regularly share the different responsibilities.  I was home most of the time during the day and I could do that.  My wife returned to work and I looked after our baby and began my post-graduate study.

Just over a year ago, my calling changed again.  Now I was out nearly every evening and my studies required more time.  We got pregnant again and I began teaching.  Finally another baby arrived.

Recently, there are some weeks that I never cook and rarely clean.  Though I home, I work and so I see the kids but I don’t always get time with them and sometimes I rarely change nappies or help feed.

Now, some might be thinking that if this is how we balance the responsibilities then that is fine.  The issue here is that I am unhappy with this and so is my wife.  The issue is that it is easier for me to allow this pattern to continue and I don’t like that about myself.

It is apparent that the systemic sexism in both the Church and the UK has made it easy for me to live out a patriarchal (not in a good way) existence by drawing me into the public sphere while simultaneously requiring that my wife live her life in private sphere.  That requirement is disseminated through the subtle, pernicious and quiet expectation that my wife will support me in my responsibilities.

I have need to repent for choosing to be acted upon rather than to act against the tide of these social influences.

Quinn argues that during the explosive Church growth of the 1950’s-1970’s the Church attempted to draw upon a number of external influences in making the organization more efficient and effective.  At the same time there was an explosive growth in Church bureaucracy.  This led some to become concerned over the influence and direction of power and authority within the hierarchical structure.

According to Quinn, both J. Reuben Clark Jr. and David O. McKay were concerned that the increasing bureaucratic, financial and organizational burden meant that the GA’s were not able (due to lack of knowledge or expertise) to make decisions that would need to be made.  They would, of necessity, have to rely upon technocrats and other specialists from the various sub-committees at Church Headquarters.  President McKay’s concern was that this movement would involve an ecclesiastical abdication of the God-given authority to led the Church.

This model of Prophetic leadership in temporal, as well as spiritual matters, has a long and varied history in the standard works and has been exemplified by our earliest and most influential leaders.  The first reason therefore that I am unconvinced that there is an alternative to a mixture (even a heavy emphasis) on the bureaucratic, as opposed to the prophetic, in our Church leadership is that theologically they are expected to be able to guide a temporally-situated Church.  Yet, their burden is fraught with a multiplicity of complex challenges that Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and others never faced.

John Dehlin rightly notes that within this they have a responsibility to protect the image of the ‘Prophetic Mantle’.  In one sense, therefore, it seems possible that although they believe that as ‘Prophets, Seers and Revelators’ they have a responsibility over the temporal, they also feel a sense of dissatisfaction or dissonance over the types of decisions they have to make.  This is evident by the fact they do not talk about such decisions and even try to mask these processes from the general membership because they feel that such decision-making processes might undermine the image of the ‘Prophetic Mantle’.  I think they are right; it might well have this effect.

Now it is possible to argue that the ‘Prophetic Mantle’ does not need to be protected.  I can sympathise with this position however I believe that the Brethren intentionally present a view of their work which most accurately exemplifies what they expect from their local leaders.  Bishops and Stake Presidents do not make the same type of decisions that might require this legalistic-bureaucractic framework and they therefore expect local leaders to seek the Spirit in dealing with spiritual matters.  I am not convinced that this is disingenuous  but rather sense that they are trying to model the gospel in action to a culturally and intellectually diverse membership.

Therefore, they are in a tough, ecclesiastical bind.  Abdicate the responsibility for the kingdom (to a small or even a large extent) or face the possibility of undermining the ‘Prophetic Mantle’, which I believe they have, and giving scope for local leaders to approach issues in this same legalistic-bureaucractic manner.

I can see why they do what they do because I am not sure I see a valid alternative, theologically or organisationally.  Do you?

January 27th 2010 was the Holocaust Memorial Day for the UK, and with my family we attended a small service in Ilford, England at Valentines Park. Readings, prayers, poetry and experiences were shared. Moreover, the youth in our ward had their own Holocaust memorial were we discussed aspects of that tragedy and the meaning that it might have for us today. Participating in this type of memorialising has often made me feel uncomfortable; I feel that I am an outsider to a form of suffering that (part of me) wants to claim as my own.

Positioning oneself in relation to this kind of ‘tribal’ suffering is not an uncommon experience. For example, Hirsch argues that ‘Post-memory’ is a concept that can help thinkers understand the ways in which seminal experiences, specifically those that are traumatic and painful, are transmitted through subsequent generations in a way that re-creates memories in those later generations[2]. As an example Hirsch looks at Holocaust memory and how these events have been a source of mystery and pain for some survivor’s children, a prominent example of the type of literature that such experiences of post-memory produce is ‘Maus’ by Art Spieglman.

These ideas might be important for Latter-day Saints because they provide a possible way of explaining a deeply connection with many of the events of the restoration (but particularly the suffering of the Saints). These feelings can be evocked in a number of ways, they are often linked with images and/or stories. Avard Fairbank’s statue of the couple over a small grave is one such example which resonates with me. It might also explain the emphasis the Church has placed upon its pioneer heritage; for if people are able to connect with this history their conversion becomes one of community (both contemporary and historical) as well as spiritual.

The negative side to this dynamic is that once those connections are made they provide a particular emotional/spiritual relationship that is often based upon ‘truth’.  If someone finds out that the Auschwitz was really just a holiday camp then perhaps we would understand their feeling betrayed.  Is it possible therefore that this process of post-memory is a part of a wider dynamic that binds people to the Church and its heritage but which also rests upon a certain historical veracity. 

Another question this raises pertains to whether such experiences can be accessible to people outside of the blood lines of such early pioneers, is it accessible for non-Americans?

Are such experiences even common to Americans (specifically Mountain Saints)?

I sense that they are accessible, but that this is done in contradictory or conflicting ways.  A Scottish lady once described her first visit to Nauvoo to me. She vividly depicted the buildings and experiences she had seen there. This lady walked away from Nauvoo across the river toward Winter Quarters and her heart broke; she wept as she trod her way up the hill, surprised at her own emotion. Later, while discussing this with a sibling, the sister said “Of course you felt that way, These are our People!”

I am not sure why such connections happen and yet I sense that they are important in establishing our communities. However I also sense that traversing the boundaries that divide us can also create fractures in the way we relate to and negotiate these experiences.  Moreover I believe that creating these connections also means that they are able to be betrayed.  I wonder whether people struggle to connect with Latter-Day Saint history in the same way I have struggled to form a legitimate association with the Holocaust?

Notes:

1. Leonard J. Arrington & Davis Bitton, The Mormon Experience: A History of the Latter-day Saints, 2^nd ed. (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1992) 334.

2. Marianne Hirsch “Surviving Images: Holocaust Photographs and the Work of Postmemory,” Yale Journal of Criticism (Spring 2001).

Although I agree with Elder Oak in principle, I suspect that some of the decisions that I make will be of this more negative order.  Moreover, these will most probably be the more painful of the two types.  Lets consider the possible impact in Abraham and Sarai’s lives (and these might be possible questions to raise in SS if you can get them to cover this episode):

• How did Sarai feel about Abraham’s choice?
• How did Abraham feel about his choice, especially as he became wealthy as a result of such an act?
• Did they tell Isaac?
• Could Sarai have refused and how did Abraham feel about her not refusing?

Now if Nibley were here he might argue that this is merely a devilish trick to make us choose between two equally evil propositions (which is worse crack or heroine), but there is always a third choice.   If this is true then what was Abraham’s other choice?

Finally, is there any possible spiritual benefit in such choices?  Can any good come from them?

To my mind I feel that my life is a constant series of these types of choices and thus I am constantly given the choice between conflicting options that inevitably will lead to some negativity.  Perhaps I am just a half-empty kinda guy but I feel for Abraham.

My questions then are these:

Are there situations where there are only choices which are bad, worse and worst? Or can we always escape such decisions?

If so, is this possible a spiritually useful situation or do we just have to move through such experiences seeking forgiveness where we can?

The results run like this:

• High Self-Esteem = Having sex later in life
• High Self-Esteem =Increased Promiscuity – This means that they will be less likely to have sex, but when they do they are more likely to have sex with a variety of partners.  Although on average, higher self-esteem does have a protective effect (i.e. it lowers the numbers of sexual partners).
• Higher Self-Esteem = Increased chance of using a condom.  Although for the highest levels of self-esteem this actuall drops slightly.
• High Self-Esteem = Means they are more likely to use a form of Birth Control.

What this indicates is that if the Church wants to decrease the number of young people having sex at a young age then they need to emphasise building self-esteem.  However, this raises other issues around how the Church might do this and whether other problems might arise from having young people with high self-esteem.

So what do you think?

Does this sound plausible?

Is it useful?

How would the Church go about increasing self-esteem in the youth?

My title is taken from Levi Peterson, who has famously written about masturbation in his book the ‘Backslider’.  Additionally, in his interview with John Dehlin, he states that ‘I just don’t think God cares that much about it’.  Contrastingly, on January 5th 1965, Elder Spencer W. Kimball said, ‘Masturbation, a rather common indiscretion, is not approved of the Lord nor of His Church regardless of what may have been said by others whose “norms” are lower’[1].  Why is masturbation a sin and how should people within the Church respond to it?

A number of reasons for masturbation’s categorisation as a sin have been given.  President Kimball has practically been the only GA to speak repeatedly and publically on this issue.  He has written that masturbation is a minor indiscretion but that it leads to other larger indiscretions.  He said: ‘Nor does immorality begin in adultery or perversion… Little indiscretions are the berries—indiscretions like sex thoughts, sex discussions, passionate kissing, pornography. The leaves and little twigs are masturbation and necking and such, growing with every exercise’[2].  I question whether this is accurate.  It is possible to take the position masturbation may in fact serve to reduce the sexual tension in a relationship that is pre-marriage.

Moreover, President Kimball has also written that the ‘prophets anciently and today condemn masturbation. It induces feelings of guilt and shame. It is detrimental to spirituality. It indicates slavery to the flesh, not that mastery of it and the growth toward godhood which is the object of our mortal life. Our modern prophet has indicated that no young man should be called on a mission who is not free from this practice.’[3]  Clearly things have changed since it seems that some young men are allowed to serve missions who still masturbate.  In addition, it is possible that masturbation creates fear, guilt and shame because we are taught that it is wrong and that this attitude emerges from a Victorian context on morality [4].

Brent Barlow has written that ‘self-stimulation can cause a person to seek sexual satisfaction alone, and, when added to mental fantasies, it can alienate him or her from others, making sexual fulfillment with a marriage partner less attractive’[5].  I can understand more readily that the fear of addiction to pornography may be a pre-emptive strike against masturbation, and also that it may create some sexual difficulties for newly married couples.  However, most newly married couples (and some long-term ones) have difficulties in this area anyway.

Although I can understand the position taken above I can also see that there are counter-arguments which are quite persuasive (although I may not have presented them persuasively).  Therefore, my first question is this: why is masturbation considered to be a sin, and do you think that it is?

The second area I want to focus on, and the area of greater interest for me, is how should parents and church leaders respond to people who masturbate.

My first issue is that I think women (of any age) should not speak to a Bishop about this issue.  I think that it could lead into awkward situations especially among younger women, though I see no reason why it is different for more mature women.

My second issue is how we respond to this issue in the context of repentance.  President Kimball has said: “While we should not regard this weakness [self-stimulation] as the heinous sin which some other sexual practices are, it is of itself bad enough to require sincere repentance.” [6]  My first issue is this, if someone does not feel guilty for engaging in this act, should someone make them feel guilty for doing so.  Is it that serious?  I admit that some people will feel guilty and therefore it is sometimes helpful to speak to a leader/friend in receiving help in moving forward through those feelings.  However, if someone does not feel that it is wrong should this issue be brought into the realm of the serious, which is what seemingly happens when we make it a requirement for a Temple Recommend, or to serve a mission.

The ambiguity of President Kimball’s statement is highlighted by noting that ‘sincere repentance’ is required of someone who is angry, who swears, who does any number of things that are contrary to the commandments.  The question is whether that sincere repentance can be done while holding a temple recommend, a calling, the priesthood (if male) as it is for so many other issues.  Or is this more a matter of frequency and intensity? 

Moreover, because this subject is taboo anyway, I wonder whether there is a different standard on this issue for women? I can imagine that an approach of ‘careful dis-attention’ might be taken by Priesthood leaders.

My second question then is this: how serious is masturbation (assuming it is a sin)?  Should it stop someone from going on a Mission, getting married in the temple and holding a Temple Recommend generally?

Notes:

1. Spencer W. Kimball, January 5, 1965, BYU Speeches of the Year, 1965 22.

2. Elder Spencer W. Kimball, Conference Report, April 1967, Afternoon Meeting 67.

3. Spencer W. Kimball, The Miracle of Forgiveness [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1969].

4. Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, vol 1., London: Penguin.

5. Brent A. Barlow, Worth Waiting For: Sexual Abstinence Before Marriage [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1995], 43 – 44.

6. Miracle of Forgiveness, pp. 77-78.

Having served my mission in Ireland, I am familiar with the Catholic iconography that is present in many of their Churches. Having been raised Mormon I am familiar with the critical attitude toward these types of statues and paintings; and yet as I surveyed these works of art, some of them had a real impact upon me. Statues of the lacerated Jesus or of the dying Jesus or the crucified Jesus forced me to hold back tears for fear of embarrassment. Even a bust of the Virgin Mary moved me deeply. I sensed that it is a real loss to Mormon culture that we do not readily engage with these products of devotion.

Much of the LDS art that I have seen of Jesus seems banal and insipid. We see a calm, collected and/or kind Jesus; and yet he is rarely depicted in any of the extremes of suffering or joy that was surely part of the humanity of his life. I am aware of exceptions; but even these pail in insignificance to what these Spanish artists created. I believe that Jesus was, at times calm, collected and kind; but I also believe he experienced the full range of human emotions (good and bad). I believe his model for living was abundance.

More confusing to me is that the LDS ‘Lamb of God’ video is different. It makes an explicit attempt to evoke this type of passionate response in the audience by alluding to the vicious suffering of Jesus. Why is it that film is more acceptable as a means of presenting this kind of devotional material? Is this merely a cultural distinction, an anti-catholic hangover from Nineteenth century America, and if so is it not about time that we extend Priesthood legitimacy to all worthy forms of Art.

Perhaps Eugene England was right when he said that Mormons do not experience the ‘tragic’ as frequently as others because of the success of our religion, but I doubt it.

Yet this raises another question, why do we need to use these different media to help us connected with Jesus and his suffering. Are we more able to sense the visceral reality of his wounds if they are shown to us? Can we more easily believe in the atonement if we can see the suffering of Christ? If this is so, would not these type of ‘passion’ iconography be a useful medium to help latter-day Saints explore their relationship to our Lord?

Perhaps Mormons need to more fully explore the spiritual artistic heritages that are rooted in other faiths as well as trying to promote our own. I certainly feel that my faith has been enriched by some of what our extended Christian heritage has produced.

One way this tendency has been manifested is the shifting practice concerning Common Consent, which I previously discussed here.  Quinn also argues that during the 19th century and the early part of the 20th century, sustaining votes were sometimes used to reject the proposed candidate.  This was encouraged in the context of a voluntary obedience.  However, following the presidencies of Joseph Fielding Smith and Harold B. Lee, the discourse around common consent became associated with the idea that a vote against a leadership decision was a rejection of the will of the Lord.  Thus, Church leader’s fears of losing control completely of the membership may have led them to emphasis a new type of relationship with Church authorities.  Quinn argues that this can be seen through a concern that some leaders had that the Church would be run by specialists rather than priesthood authority, thus the increased emphasis upon the ‘brethren’.

What does this mean for the Church currently and its membership?  Much has been said both officially, at GC, and unofficially, among the membership, about Church growth.  In general it has slowed (or flat-lined) over the last decade across the world.  It is possible therefore, that as Church growth slows or remains constant that we will see reversals in the way the Church approaches the issues of authoritarianism and doctrine.  I am not trying to argue that the Church is ever wholly conservative or liberal.  My point however is that as new ideas, practices and technologies are assimilated in the Church’s power structure there will inevitably be the emergence of new assemblages of power and new types of discourse.  In the same way that new conservative mechanisms where emphasised and solidifed throught the development of new media, so it is possible that these same changes could provide more liberalising assemblages/discourses.  Thus it is possible that as the Church, and its culture, become more firmly established its Leaders may become more relaxed about ‘the centrifugal tendencies’ Quinn observes.

However, the problem with this hypothesis is that Church growth is not equal across the world.  We have already seen these fears manifest themselves in the Church’s response to exponential growth in areas such as Chile and Philippines (where in each case they sent Apostles to specifically preside over those areas).  Contrastingly, the emphasis on finding local leadership at the general level (Area Authority Seventies – and the like) may result in increased scope for variation and interpretation[2].  Thus it is possible that in those areas like Western Europe (where I am from) where the Church is established and hardly growing, there might be increasing tendency toward liberalism, while in areas of relative instability the emphasis will remain on unquestioning obedience.  However such differences are of course mediated by whether the Church wants to retain a unified approach across the globe (a fact which some have posited will be a major restriction to Church growth[3].

It is possible that the previous liberalisation toward academia, argued for in my previous post, may be part of a wider dynamic linked to the slowing down of Church growth?

Do you think this is plausible?

Notes:

1. D. Michael Quinn, From Sacred Grove to Sacral Power Structure in Dialogue, vol. 17, no. 2 [Salt Lake city, UT.: Dialogue Foundation, 1984] p. 29.

2. Armand L. Mauss, Can there be a Second Harvest? in International Journal of Mormon Studies, vol. 1, no. 1, [online, 2008], pp. 1-59.

3. Douglas J. Davies, World Religion: Dynamics & Constraints at The Worlds of Joseph Smith Conference.

Ash argues that we commit spiritual murder when we destroy the testimony of another person.  He argues that our sins can do this and thus he believes Alma’s counsel to his son is to help him see the damage that he has caused, ‘for when [the Zoramites] saw your conduct they would not believe in my [Alma’s] words’ (see Al 39:11).

Ash argues that there two things people need to wary of, if they are to avoid committing this sin.  First, our actions, like Corianton, can destroy the testimony of another.  Second, is sharing information with people that might damage their faith, like ‘the stickier parts of early LDS Church history or scriptural difficulties’ [1].  Now Ash also notes that the intent’s of our hearts are what is important when it comes to deciding who is guilty.  So Richard Bushman is not guilty of spiritual murder, but presumably Fawn Brodie might be and the Tanners are certainly in trouble.

Yet, although I accept his interpretation of this passage of scripture I am not sure I can fully accept how he then goes on to define spiritual murder.  For example, when are our motives ever directed by one factor?  We are often influenced by a multiplicity of ideas whenever we do something.  So I am not convinced that we ever wholly desire to do right or wrong.

Further, if the information shared is the same and true regardless of with what intention it is shared, why does this issue of sincerity become a factor at all.  Maffly-Kipp, in another Sunstone article, has argued that issues around sincerity are part of a Protestant theological tradition that seeks to categorise people into the righteous and the unrighteous.  This assumes that only the good or sincere can do Gods work, but the scriptures have examples of people who may not have been ‘righteous’ or ‘sincere’ but who nevertheless were used by God.

Is it possible that Fawn Brodie was directed by God to do what she did?

This question of spiritual murder also raises important questions about how this issue is dealt with within the Church, in relation to Church discipline.  I recall Paul Toscano, when speaking to John Dehlin, asking at his Disciplinary Council that someone ‘show [him] the body count?’  He argues that he was excommunicated on the possibility that what he had written might damage people’s faith.  Now although I would argue that it is difficult to prove that one person has destroyed the faith of another; it seems that the Church would never excommunicate someone because they could have killed someone in doing something dangerous.  Then why are comfortable in excommunicating someone that might damage someone’s faith.

It seems to me we need to careful about how we use this concept, if it is to become something that is used in the Church (again).

Questions:

How would you define spiritual murder?

Should it be necessary to prove spiritual murder before someone is excommunicated?

Notes:

1. Michael R. Ash, The Sin “Next to Murder” in Sunstone, 2006, p. 34, 40.

1). Your blessing always implies (even if it does not say it explicitly) the agency of another. So even if there is a promise involving another person they still have their choice to go down whatever path.

2). Your blessing (and only you can interpret this) would have made these promises on certain conditions. This does not mean that you are to blame but rather these situations are never just one factor.
3). It is not over yet. You do not know when or where these blessings might be fulfilled.
4). Faith is a paradox. I believe that we see our faith, or experience our faith, when we keep doing those things that are right even when it seems impossible for us to receive the blessings. It is the strength to endure even when we see no possibility of fulfillment. It is in these moments of struggle that we are forced to draw closer to God and rely more wholly upon him because there is nothing else to rely upon.

5). Is it possible that your patriarch, seeking to promise you something that would bring you hope and happiness, made this statement eventhough it was not directly inspired from God? They are not perfect. But I should couple this with my own thoughts that you have the right to pray about your blessing and interpret what it means. Priesthood holders have a difficult repsonsibility to try and understand the spiritual impressions we receive when we give blessings and sometimes it does not always come out quite right and the listener/receiver has to interpret. This is your responsibility.

My questions are these:

Have you experienced a failed patriarchal blessing and how did you deal with it?

Are my possible explanations flawed?

Are there other explanations I may have missed?

What would have said or done in this situation?

As a lead into the rest of this discussion the other people who had this experience are:

Joseph Angell Young – One of Brigham Young’s sons was ordained in 1864 and was never subsequent invited into the quorum [3].

‘Brigham Young, Jr., was ordained as an Apostle by his father on February 4, 1864, but he did not become a member of the Council of the Twelve until October 1868, when he was chosen to fill the vacancy caused by George A. Smith’ [4].

Sylvester Q. Cannon was ordained an Apostle on April 14^th, 1938 and was set-apart in the Quorum April 6^th 1939, a year later [3].

Finally Alvin R. Dyer was called as an Apostle on October 5^th 1967 but was never included in the Quorum, and was actually incorporated into the First Quorum of Seventy when it was created in Oct 1^st 1976 [3].

The last person that might have been in a similar situation was David Whitmer & Oliver Cowdrey (D&C 18: 9), but I will not discuss this here [5].

President McKay once said: “There are apostles who are not members of the council. I think there were in that day [i.e., in New Testament times], at least they were considered to be apostles… A man may be an apostle but not one of the Council of the Twelve” [4].  That people can be ordained as an Apostle without being a member of the Twelve suggests that it is a Priesthood office which could be bestowed on those who are prepared.

In an article by David L. Paulsen, Joseph Smith is recorded to have said in a meeting in 1833, after a vision of the Father and the Son, “Brethren, now you are prepared to be the apostles of Jesus Christ, for you have seen both the Father and the Son and know that They exist and that They are two separate personages” [6].  President McKay, in the citation above, uses the example of Paul and Barabbas who were considered Apostles without them being included in the Quorum.  Paul it seems may have been later, while for Barabbas it is less clear.  It seems they were considered to be Apostles on the basis of what they had seen and that they were felt called to the ministry.

This seems to imply something similar to what Ammon describes in the Book of Mormon.  He says ‘I am called by that Holy Spirit to teach [the gospel]… and a portion of that Spirit dwelleth in me, which giveth me knowledge and also power’ (Alma 18: 34-5).  Moreover, there is a distinction between the calling and the ordinance associated with Priesthood power (see Al 13: 8).  In addition D&C 121: 37 argues that the powers of heaven may be conferred upon us, but that there are inseparable from the Spirit.  In fact if this section of scripture teaches us anything then it is that the Holy Ghost, through a Saintly life, gives power to an individual (see D&C 121: 46) not by the virtue of the Priesthood (D&C 121:40).

This suggest two things to me: first being an Apostle is not necessarily about being in the Quorum of the Twelve and that it may well be a Priesthood office, like High Priest, rather than a calling in that Priesthood.  Second there is a conception that Mormonism has scope for the ‘Priesthood of all believers’ type view.  Meaning that spiritual power is given to those who are called by God or receive that power, rather than by merely being ordained.

Notes:

1. Richard O. Cowan, The Church in the Twentieth Century [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1985], 45.

2. Truman G. Madsen; see also Scott Kenney, Joseph F. Smith in The Presidents of the Church, ed. L.J. Arrington [Salt Lake City, UT.: Deseret Book, ?] p. 191.

3. Encyclopaedia of Mormonism, Appendix 1, p. 1631-51.

4. David O. McKay, Gospel Ideals: Selections from the Discourses of David O. McKay [Salt Lake City: Improvement Era, 1953], 250.

5. See Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses 6:320 and Heber C. Kimball, Journal of Discourses 6:29.

6. David L. Paulsen, The Doctrine of Divine Embodiment: Restoration, Judeo-Christian, and Philosophical Perspectives in BYU Studies, vol. 35, no. 4 (Provo UT.: BYU Press, 1996).

 Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.

The Dialogue subscribers answered in the following way:

33.9% = Historical

21.6% = Teaching and Moral Theology Authentic; Historicity Doubtful

12% = Moral Teachings Sound, Historicity & Divine Origin Doubtful

13.7% = 19th Century Literary Product

I would have thought that less people would have thought that the Book of Mormon was historical?  Just in case your wondering, for those people who subscribe to Dialogue only 5.9% subscribe or read regularly FAIR.

Questions:

Are these results surprising to you?  If so why?

I admit that I believe in God, but for the purposes of this post I want to suspend that belief.  The reason being that I want to compare it with believing in Santa Claus who I know is not real.

The article argues that although some people are against teaching our children something that is false, there is some evidence to suggest that it might serve some important functions.  Believing in Santa helps to teach the importance of reciprocity in relationships, it assists in the development of imagination and helps children cope with stressful situations.  But are these reasons sufficient to teach your child about God even if you knew it was wrong, and more importantly maintain it.

But is such belief a form of abuse, as Richard Dawkins argues.  When asked about the sexual abuse of the young by religious leaders, Dawkins replied that ‘horrible as sexual abuse no doubt was, the damage was arguably less than long-term psychological damage inflicted by bringing the child up catholic [or in any other faith - my note] in the first place’ [2].  Dawkins also believes that God should be given up at the same time as Santa Claus.

I would be horrified if someone believed in Santa past the age of 16, but I am not sure I could go so far as to say it is a form of child abuse.  I have a friend with a bright child who ‘figured out’ that Santa was not real and to prove it he set up a video camera watching the tree over Christmas Eve.  Knowing what was happening, the father arranged for a member of the Ward to dress up as Santa and bring the presents around.  Now, I personally do not agree with this, but I am not sure it is abusive.  If this continues then I would fear socially for the child, but the same could be said about believing in God.

So is believing in God a form of child abuse, assuming God is not real?

Notes

1. Gail Vines, The Santa Delusion: Is it harmless fantasy or cruel deception? in New Scientist, 22/29 December 2007, pp. 36-7

2. Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion [London: Bantam Press, 2006] p. 356.

According to Allen and Leonard ‘perhaps no doctrine was preached more enthusiastically by President Grant or stressed more in Church literature during his administration than the Word of Wisdom’ [3].  Arrington’s seminal (if not a little controversial essay) on the economic factors that led to the importance of the Word of Wisdom deals with the period till 1900 and misses some crucial occurrences in the lead up to this principle becoming a ‘commandment’.

The Personal

President Grant had a friend who had died young because of alcohol related problems (according to Truman Madsen it was cirrhosis of the liver [4]).  At the funeral President Grant records, in a sermon given in 1931, that ‘as I stood at his grave I looked up to heaven and made a pledge to my God that liquor and tobacco would have in me an enemy who would fight with all the ability that God would give me to the day of my death, and I have kept that pledge so far’[5].  Perhaps what haunted President Grant most was that this young man had given up his habits to serve a mission, but had quickly resumed them when he finished his service.

The Political

According to the Encyclopaedia of Mormonism ‘The [prohibition] movement intensified the Church’s interest in the Word of Wisdom. There is evidence that Church Presidents John Taylor, Joseph F. Smith, and Heber J. Grant wanted to promote adherence to the Word of Wisdom as a precondition for entering LDS temples or holding office in any Church organization; and indeed, by 1930 abstinence from the use of alcohol, tobacco, coffee, and tea had become an official requirement for those seeking temple recommends.’[6].   

It seems this interest became even more pronounced when the calls for repeal began.  President Grant’s concern can be seen in his April 2, 1932 General Conference address.  There was a controversial speech by Elder Stephen L. Richards at that same conference which will be discussed later.  But at the very least, it seems that President Grant’s emphasis on making the Word of Wisdom a requirement emerged out of a political context in which he saw liquor becoming a problem for the Latter-day Saints.  He had lived through and been an Apostle through some of the previous period of emphasis which Arrington documents, and perhaps did not want to see the Church membership go down that road again.

Perhaps President Grant saw the Church collectively as being like his friend.  He may thought the membership would enter a period of relapse; and he was trying to prevent it.

The Prophetic

What is surprising, is that in President Grant’s sermons on this issue and on the policy change he does not cite any direct revelation.  Interestingly, President Grant said in 1928, which seems to contradict Alexander’s thesis of the 1921 date, that ‘the Lord has not made this an absolute commandment’.  The implication here from President Grant however, is that if the Lord asks his people to do something then we should respond.  In addition, in a CHI (published in 1928) the Word of Wisdom was not explicitly mentioned as a requirement for the Temple, but was in the 1933 edition [2].  Thus although the issue seems to have been informally incorporated as policy its codification was not enforced until the early 1930’s in-line with the possible repeal of Prohibition. 

In addition, the evidence suggests that there has never been a sustaining vote on this issue [1].  I am not claiming that President Grant never believed he had received revelation on this issue nor that he never shared a testimony that he believed this principle was revelation.  What interests me is how, as a Prophet, he did not justify this change by referring to a revelatory experience but rather in a personal commitment to a principle and to political or social fears.  I would have expected an effort, like President Kimball discusses, of overcoming bias and prejudice that individuals hold in order to prepare for revelation.  For President Grant it seems that he moved forward in a different way.

Some Controversy

Stephen L. Richards who was an Apostle during this time gave a sermon, which was apparently not printed in the conference report because it angered President Grant.  It has been subsequently printed by Sunstone.  The sermon suggested that there was fanaticism in the way Church leaders had approached the issue of the Word of Wisdom, and other behaviours.  The date Sunstone give for the delivery of this sermon is the 9^th April 1932.  Although there was not a General Conference session on that day, Stan Larson (source – fn 79) in a footnote in his work on B.H. Roberts makes reference to a Salt Lake Tribune article and First Presidency meeting that discussed Richards’ talk on the 9^th and the day after.  Sunstone claim they got their transcript from the Church archives.  So there is some confusion in my mind at least about where this comes from.  However, according to Michael Quinn [7], on May 5^th 1932, Stephen L. Richards told the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve that he will resign as apostle rather than apologize for his general conference talk which argued that the Church is putting too much emphasis on the Word of Wisdom. However on the 26^th May he later recanted and apologised for his remarks.  What this suggests to me is that this move may have been as much a personal drive from President Grant as from a revelation.  Moreover, it certainly was not wholly accepted at face value by all of the twelve.

Notes

1. Robert J. McCue, Did the Word of Wisdom become a Commandment in 1851? in Dialogue, no. 3 [Salt Lake City, UT.: Dialogue Foundation, 1981], p. 66-77.

2. Thomas G. Alexander, The Word of Wisdom: From Principle to Requirement in Dialogue, no. 3 [Salt Lake City, UT.: Dialogue Foundation, 1981], pp. 79

3. James B. Allen and Glen M. Leonard, The Story of the Latter-day Saints, 2nd ed., rev. and enl. [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1992], 525 – 526.

4. Truman G. Madsen, The Presidents of the Church, [Salt Lake City, UT. Deseret Book, 2004).

5. President Heber J. Grant, Answering Tobacco’s Challenge in Improvement Era, 1931, (Vol. Xxxiv. June, 1931. No. 8.)

6. Joseph Lyons, Encyclopedia of Mormonism, 1-4 vols., edited by Daniel H. Ludlow (New York: Macmillan, 1992), 1584.

7. D. Michael Quinn, The Mormon Hierarchy: Extensions of Power [Salt Lake City, UT.: Signature Books, 1997).

I enjoy the TV show ‘House’.  Aside from his acerbic wit I often enjoy the program’s discussion of issues of atheism and the explanation for suffering that exists in the world.  There are two episodes in particular that relate to this topic of suffering.  In one a girl comes into the surgery who has been raped and asks to have House treat her.  There is nothing wrong with her (medically) and so he sees no reason to treat her.  As a ‘Theology Major’ the episode develops through their dialogue on whether God exists and how he could let this happen.  Their approaches reveal an almost dichotomised view of the world.  House attempts to find the meaning behind her suffering in the randomness of the world and the psychology of the attacker.  She sees meaning in her suffering as something which exists, but which is beyond her understanding.

The second episode brings a magician into House’s diagnostic department.  They discuss the need to know versus the need for wonder and mystery.  The Magician seems almost to relish the mysterious nature of disease and would rather die from an unknown source than be saved from a known diseases.  The episode concludes with House finding the reason for the sickness and curing the Magician.  The final line from House is: ‘knowing is way cooler’.

For me this highlights a tension in thinking about suffering that I had not appreciated fully before but which I think Levinas describes aptly.  He writes that suffering is suffering because of ‘the denial, the refusal of meaning’ that attends it [1].  What I think Levinas is trying to get at  here is that suffering is different from pain.  Pain can be explained.  The magicians pain was not mysterious any longer because the explanation was given for that pain.  Yet pain becomes suffering when the explanation (House’s explanation) seems to break down or fracture under the weight of the suffering.  Thus the strength of House’s rationality seems more facile and weak in the case of the rape victim.  That type of pain causes suffering because it resists an explanation and meaning.

Yet, this is not necessarily the point at which religion or theology sweeps in and begins providing discrete meaning for all suffering.  For suffering resists all type of meaning, even religious.  Thus any explanation, even one provided by religion still seems to have fractures and breaks were the explanation does not fit, as Levinas demonstrates in the essay.  Religious explanations fail to console just as easily as Medical or psychological or any other explanantions.

Therefore if suffering resists meaning, then can meaning be found in suffering as I previously argued.  I think it can, but it can only ever do it imperfectly.  Our explanations will never be generalisable nor will they fully satisfy or console.  C.S. Lewis wrote, after the death of his wife, that he believes there is truth in religion, there is religious duty; but if you talk ‘to [him] about the consolations of religion’ and he will ’suspect that you don’t understand’[2].

If we expect religion or God to provide answers any more satisfactory than any other ideology or explanatory-structure then perhaps we have mis-understood.  What then is the role of religion in such suffering?  Levinas provides one possible explanation, which I hope to discuss in a future post.  But I want to offer a suggestion here which uses faith.

Alma describes faith as not having a perfect knowledge.  Faith can involve contradiction (see my previous posts on Kierkegaard and on Worship).  Religion then can provide people (and other institutions can do something similar) with a context for living out our lives beneath the weight of useless and unexplained suffering.  The contradiction built into meaningless suffering is so great that many have turned toward religious explanations to provide satisfactory answers when perhaps all that was required or expected by God, was to continue to seek out a relationship with Him in the midst of such contradiction.  A faith that is more about faithfulness and relationships (of trust and love) than about doctrinal explanations.  A faith that does not require a future meaning for the suffering of the present.

I am not saying that we should not seek to find meaning in our suffering, I think there is some value in that process, especially if we involve God in it.  Yet, what I am arguing is that by its very nature, suffering refuses to be circumscribed by a meaningful explanation.  As such, the response of religion, should be in part an acceptance of this contradiction and an attempt to utilize the dynamism of such contradictions to direct us toward God.  Yet, the passivity and activity of these two movements is a contradiciton in itself.

Notes:

1. Emmanuel Levinas, Useless Suffering in Entre Nous [London: Continuum, 2006], p. 78.

2. C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed [London: Faber & Faber, 1961], p. 23.

Firstly, I can understand other religions who live in my community who might be frustrated at the effort and money that is spent of events during the Christmas season, that is not directed into events that would help their own religious festivals.

Secondly, I sense that if Christians want their festivals to remain important then we need to ensure that they are important by our practising them rather than using (or assuming) some sort of cultural supremacy simply because we happen to be the dominant religious culture in a country.

Thirdly, no one else can determine whether I worship Christmas and the extent to which I feel the spirit of Christ.  Therefore although I think having that focus at Christmas time is a good thing I should not let the fact that other people do not believe become the major focus of my worship.  I am sure people who celebrate any of the Islamic festivals do not concern themselves with my benign neglect of their religious festival so why should I use mine against them.

Fourthly, no one can stop me from calling it Christmas, if I so choose.  I don’t care what anyone else calls.  If they want to change the legal name so that it does not alienate other religious denominations then I can’t see an issue with that.

This just seems a mis-directed way to focus on Christmas at a time of year when Christians should be at their most tolerating, inclusive and forgiving.

What do you think?

Should we legally protect Christmas or should we emphasise celebrating it ourselves and not be concerned about what others do?

I don’t really do Christmas cards so it was not really a big deal, except it made me wonder, who else gets Christmas cards from the First Presidency?  Did I get this because of my calling, and if so what other callings get Christmas cards?

In a series of previous posts, David Stout has suggested that there is an underlying rationalism that drives our worship services.  I suspect that this true to an extent but he misses, or perhaps neglects to mention another key factor.  Terryl Givens explores a paradox in Mormon thought between certainty and searching [1].  He explains that the discourse of our religious history is rooted in certainty and that conversion occurs when we know the truth, rather than in a conversion to Christ through forgiveness.  Therefore, perhaps, it is not strange to conclude that the highest form of worship is when such certainty is conveyed or shared between searching individuals.

Yet, this is not the only type of worship discussed in the LDS tradition.  In fact there are two other strains that I think are prominent: emulation and adoration.  Emulation as a form of worship continues the pragmatic theme which seems fixed in education as a form of worship (another of the paradoxes Givens discusses: The Sacred and the Banal).  Adoration is part of the Church but it seems diminished compared to other religious cultures like the Church of England, for example.  I can understand this, however, because Emulation and Adoration suggest different conceptions of sacred distance.  Emulation seeks to narrow that distance whereas Adoration wants to emphasise the differences between God and Human beings.

It occurs to me that the view of God that is generally held among Mormons (the Anthropomorphic God who becomes divine through a progressive process) results in a sense of dissatisfaction with the traditional forms of Adoration-type Worship held in other Churches, but neither Education nor Emulation have adequately replaced them, in my view.   So where is worship in LDS services?

One suggestion I have is that we should include both types of worship in our services.  I sense that including forms of worship which both accentuates and also diminishes the sacred distance between ourselves and God would be a spiritually productive paradox.  Accentuating this distance would emphasise our dependence upon God while seeking to receive his divine nature would ensure we do not stop striving to open ourselves to God’s love and the possibility of loving others and being loved by them.  Moreover, I am one of those people who sees that these (unresolvable) tensions prove fertile ground for our communion with God.

Questions:

How do you feel about Mormon Worship services?

What do you consider Worship and is it present in your wards and stakes?

What types of Worship could be included in our meetings?

Of his work, Kapoor says, ‘Just as you can’t set out to make something beautiful, you can’t set out to make something spiritual.  What you can do is recognise that it may be there.  It normally has something to do with not having too much to say.  There seems to be space for the viewer, and is sometimes something we identify as being spiritual.  And it is all about space.’

Kapoor is concerned with the community that art can generate.  In fact the size of his later sculptures suggest a desire to encourage this shared experience.  Think of Chicago’s ‘magic bean’.  Or my favourite ‘The Farm’ in New Zealand.  In my mind this something remarkably similar to what is ’spiritual’ for me.  It is in the sharing and simultaneous experience of love, spirit and honesty that binds people to another and to God.

Speaking about Kapoor’s work, Homi Bhabha has said that ‘you are always on the edge between what you know and what you don’t know’.  Interestingly Kapoor believes his work captures something similar.  He says that ‘making work is about daring to go where I don’t know and hoping that in going to where I don’t know, you, the viewer, can go somewhere you don’t know either’.

I accept Bennion’s argument and I am also inspired by it.  For it makes me sense that their is a responsibility which falls upon me to alleviate all the suffering I can, rather than passively sitting back pontificating upon the meaning of our trials.

Yet, I too feel that I am reluctant to accept that so much suffering could be wasted.

My step-father was recently diagnosed with Motor Neurones Disease and will physically decay while maintaining all his mental faculties until at some point he will suffocate or drown.

If he wants to see meaning in his suffering is that a bad thing, even though it may be false?  Is it false?  It is possible that in someone trying to find meaning in their suffering they could actually realise that meaning; for instance they may become more patient or considerate.  Although I am uncomfortable with the idea that God inflicts people with such experiences for their profit and learning, I can accept that God wants us to find some light in even the darkest abyss.

However, I am aware that there is some suffering, which people inflict upon others that I would find it difficult to discover some meaning.  Female Circumcision or Rape or many others.

Contrastingly, I have been inspired by those who recognise that ‘being comfortable with not making sense of suffering, or realising that we don’t have all the answers and that contradiction and unfairness is part of mortality’ [3].  Such a view requires as much faith as trying to find meaning in suffering. Yet I wonder whether such a view leads to a different form of that passivity regarding the suffering around us mentioned earlier.

In addition, I believe that Ostler is right when he acknowledges that God suffers more not less because of his divinity.  Ostler also argues that Christ condescends to mortality in order that he might experience the alienation and isolation of this life, something he could not know before, so that he could perfect his empathy, compassion and love.

In this God finds meaning in his own suffering, because it helps Him minster to us, because it helps him understand and love more deeply us.  Yet I am not sure our experience and Christs (as Ostler sees it) are compatible because his is still voluntarily chosen and so much of our suffering is inflicted.

Though I do not believe all suffering is meaningful, I would never say that to anyone else who had really suffered.  Because I am not convinced there is no meaning in suffering, whereas I am confident that it is not bad to find it there; if we can.

Notes:

1. Lowell L. Bennion, Lowell L. Bennion: Teacher, Counselor, Humanitarian [Salt Lake City, UT: Dialogue Foundation, 1995] p. 354.

2. Clive James, Cultural Amnesia: Notes in the Margin of my Time [London: Picador, 2007] p. 253.

3. White, Making Sense of Suffering, Dialogue, (vol. 25, no. 2, 1992, p. 115).

The idea is simple, so let me know your thoughts?

As a preliminary to this I thought I would offer some of my suggestions, feel free to contradict me and offer your own.  I should acknowledge that I am aware of the variety of positions toward the Church that are represented here at MM and think that those who are TBM should have an input as much as a NOM.  My thinking here is that as leaders we should try to help people in a way that they feel we should help them.  Leaders should, I think, be able to understand the differences between a NOM and a TBM, and how this might impact upon how they should be treated.

My thoughts:

Doubt – ‘On finding Truth and God’ by Eugene England, Richard Bushman ‘Joseph Smith Seminar Lecture’ at Life on Gold Plates and ‘My Belief’ by Richard Bushman

Repentance – ‘The Meaning of Repentance’ by Theodore Burton & ‘Means unto Repentance’ by Eugene England

Leadership – ‘Leaders to Managers: The Fatal Shift’ by Hugh Nibley & ‘Why the Church is as True as the Gospel’ by Eugene England

Disciplinary Councils – ‘Excommunication’ by Lester Bush, Doug Alder & J. Bonner Ritchie

Being a Bishop – ‘Bishop as Counselor’ Sunstone Symposium with Lowell Bennion and Doug Alder.

On Auxiliaries – ‘Let Them Govern Themselves’ by Boyd K. Packer

Seminary and Institute – Chapters 4-6 of ‘Lowell Bennion’ by Mary Lythgoe Bradford.

I am sure that you can see a trend in my reading recently.  There are probably many other topics or areas where Bishops should be given materials to read.  What are some of the things that you think would be helpful to Bishops and Stake Presidents to read?

Levi Savage, having previously made the trek West before, and being aware of the difficulties and death they would inevitably face if they left that late in season, protested against the decision to leave.  William Kimball and others disagreed.  Some even prophesied that the Lord would protect them in their journey so that the weather would be arranged for their good.  A few weeks later, Franklin Richards, who had previously advocated Handcarts as a mode of transport, met the company and stayed the night with them.  Richards heard about Elder Savage’s comments and chastised him for having a lack of faith.

Unfortunately, the storms may have even been worse that year than expected.  Suffering and death followed.

William Kimball, who left with Franklin Richards on his way through to Salt Lake, did not suffer with the company.  Yet, when William Kimball heard of their suffering from Brigham Young he left immediately to assist his friends.  According to one account, Kimball spent an entire day carrying women and children through the freezing water, he literally had to be taken out of the water, and suffered for the rest of his life from the effects of that effort.

What of Levi Savage?  Knowing full well what would follow if they continued, and even after being publically rebuked for a lack of faith, he stayed with the Saints in order to help those whom he knew would later suffer, including himself.  One account says that after his counsel was rejected he said: ‘Brethren and Sisters. what I have said I know to be true; but seeing you are to go forward I will go with you, will help you all I can , will work with you, will rest with you, will suffer with you and if necessary die with you.’

In the spirit of John Hamer, Eugene England has opened a different set of narratives from these stories.  I find both of these experiences challenging; they have made me re-think my relationship with my Ward.  Knowing a little of William Kimball I sense that part of his motivation for rescuing those people was guilt for his own failings, but in this I find some hope.  I believe that through such a sacrifice he would have gone some way in providing reconciliation for his error as a leader.  As someone who, I am sure, has and will fail people in my Church service I feel inspired by this example of someone who seeks to rectify his mistake through loving service.  Moreover, it might have been easy for him to blame the company (by assuming sin on their part or some other misdemeanor); but he seems to have been quicker to attribute blame at his own door rather than with the party. 

In addition, I admire Levi Savage for following his leaders even when he knew they were wrong because he wanted to serve the other Saints when they would need it.  He did not leave those people who he loved because he could not agree with others who had openly chastised him.  This sets up a model for me of how I feel that I can respond to the challenges of this kind.  I am not advocating a blind obedience because I think it is important to challenge incorrect thinking; but when that is done, I sense that it is important to maintain fellowship in order to help those who may be hurt in the future by incorrect or mis-informed decisions.  I should note that this is how I feel and that others rightful do not feel the same.

William Kimball’s experience also raises other questions about the limits of tolerance for imperfection in our leaders, or even our fellow Saints.  Is there a point at which an action becomes unforgivable?  Can Kimball’s (and others) mistake, which cost the lives of so many be forgiven, by us and God?  Some of this party left the Church, contrary to popular opinion,  after this experience; and I for one find it difficult to give strong reasons why that was wrong.  I sense that having my faith tested by such failings would perhaps see my faith break. 

I do not want to give the impression that I am treating lightly the effect of this error on the part of the leaders, but in my view each story still shows the redemptive possibilities, for both struggling leaders and also for struggling followers.  Further this story shows the challenges posed by living out our spiritual life in a community of complex and imperfect people.

Regrettably, I have in the past found the story of the Willie handcart company to be hackneyed by being repeated too frequently, understanding some more of the lives of those who lived through such an experience I feel that I have been challenged to re-think how I confront and deal with those other people in my spiritual community.

The ’Joint Advance Senior Class’ had two manuals to choose from ‘1. Heroes of Science, by Dr. F. S. Harris and N. I. Butt. 2. Rational Theology, by Dr. John A. Widtsoe.’ (Priesthood Quorums, Improvement Era, 1926, Vol. Xxix. July, 1926 No. 9 .) 

Although, I was aware that the Church used other literature in their Auxiliaries I was not aware that they used a quite wide selection of literature.  Although my initial reaction to these efforts was positive, I am not convinced that this would be a good thing today.

My positive reaction centered around the possibilities of a Church that encouraged its members to fulfill the admonition in D&C 88 to become educated.  However, on reflection I began to wonder whether I needed to be told what books to read, or what interests to have.  The Church has explicitly directed its members to try and learn all we can and this seems sufficient.

Perhaps the Church’s growing assimilation (both socially and economically) has also made it less-important to direct and supply its members with other reading materials.  Further is it possible that the Church’s correlation programmes, in trying to focus more directly on ‘core’ gospel principles, has decided to become less pro-active in directing the secular learning of the members of the Church.  Although some have lamented correlation as a form of dumbing-down, I, for one, am grateful for this change. 

In contrast, I wonder whether the Church could provide low cost literature for Saints in other parts of the world where access to books is something of a luxury, so although I feel that this is not something that I would benefit from, I sense that it might be positive for some other areas.  In addition, the Elders Quorum President in our ward has recently asked that once a month someone share something that has inspired them that is not specifically LDS; a piece of poetry, art or music.  Although I think there is something to be said for bringing in outside influences to our Sunday classes, I am not sure whether I want that to be too tightly controlled.

What are your thoughts about whether the Church should offer such materials to the Saints?

Bushman highlights in this lecture a ‘Visionary Culture’ in which Joseph Smith matured, as well as many of the early converts to the Church.  This culture seems to have powerfully shaped the experience of the Spiritual Gifts in the Church.  As an illustration Bushman notes that the Methodist religion, prior to this period, ‘begins with this supernatural culture, or people who are yearning for visions and tongues and various demonstrations of God’s power in their lives.  And the reason Joseph Smith ran into so much trouble with that minister, was not because his vision was strange and out of the way but because it was so common.  The Methodist’s by 1820 were trying to calm their membership, to discourage this visionary culture’.  Acknowledging that I am not a Historian, it seems to me that this same cycle has played out for the LDS Church as well.  The result appears to be a centralised view of the spirit and the spiritual gifts; meaning they are something we experience when our (general) leaders speak or perhaps we experience them vicariously through the stories of our general leaders.

Six months ago I attended a Stake Conference where a member of the First Presidency and an Apostle spoke.  This is fairly rare in the UK, I am not sure if it is more common in other places.  I have never been in the same room as an Apostle before, let alone a member of the First Presidency.  As you might expect, the excitement was tangible.  After the meeting I heard many people reflect upon the significant spiritual experiences that they had felt.  While I felt inspired, I did not experience what it seemed like others had felt.  Now I am aware that not all people connect with certain speakers in the same way and that I may not have been ‘spiritually prepared’; but I contrasted this with a fireside, given by an LDS academic, that I attended a few weeks later where I was genuinely moved by some of the inspiring things this person said about the Life and Teachings of the Saviour.  What surprised me most was that I was almost alone in my feelings. 

Anecdotally at least, I sensed that perhaps there is a part of the LDS culture that expects profound spiritual experiences from the Brethren and no one else.  It seems that we believe miraculous events in the lives of the leaders but are skeptical about those who are in our wards and stakes.  It occurred to me that this was not always the case and that perhaps the Church, or we as members, needs to de-centralise the Spirit.  I believe that I need to expect my most profound spiritual experiences to come from those people I spend most of my spiritual life with; those in my ward and in my family.  I also believe that the General Leaders do not want spirituality to be centralised at Church headquarters.

Others have noticed this tension between charisma and bureaucracy. “Security religion provides refuge. It builds an ecclesiastical wall which protects from the onslaught of questions and doubts and decisions. Growth religion, on the other hand, forces its adherents to grow, to accept responsibility to assume the burden of proof, to move beyond extrinsic constraints”[1].  According to Ritchie we need to balance both types of culture.  In my mind, this pattern of centralising the spirit is associated with security religion.

Contrastingly, growth religion would seem to “provide those conditions of the giving and receiving of influences such that there is the enlargement of the freedom of all the members to both give and receive.”[2]  Being able to experience the divine influence in our local spiritual communities would seem to be linked with this pattern of open-ness.

My Questions are these:

Has the Church moved from a explosively Charismatic movement to a bureaucratically-contained one?  And why might this have happened?

Do you agree with my contention that there is a centralisation of the Spirit in the Church?  If so, is this a good thing?

Are the differences between Growth and Security religion manageable on an Institutional scale or are they invariably matters for the individual?

If there is the a centralisation of the Spirit and if this is not good, how could this be changed?

Notes:

1. J. Bonner Ritchie, The Institutional Church and the Individual in Sunstone [Salt Lake City, UT.: Sunstone Education Foundation, ], p. 101.

2. Bernard Loomer, “Two Conceptions of Power,” Process Studies 6, no. 1 (Spring 1976), 26- 27.