Optimization

Optimization largely rules our world. Virtually all of management, engineering, politics, and much of science is about optimization. Optimization, in this sense, is the process of determining the optimal solution given all the objectives and constraints. In management, the process may not be that formal. Perhaps there is a board of directors who gather around a table to discuss the optimal set of policies, the direction to go, etc. In politics it is likely similar. The President of the U.S. surrounds himself with experts on a particular topic, they then engage in discussion, and hope to land on the optimal answer given the objectives and constraints.

For engineers the process is much more formal and precise. Usually optimization takes the form of a cost function – a function incorporating, mathematically, all the objectives and constraints. An algorithm (and there are many) is then employed to “solve” the function resulting in the optimal solution. To demonstrate, here’s an example:

Suppose you are designing an aircraft. There are numerous design possibilities, a canard style, V-tail empennages, aspect ratio of the wings, length of fuselage, coating of the surfaces, wingtips, where to place the turbines, height of vertical stabilizer (if having one at all), etc. etc. We would like to find the optimal answer amongst all these parameters such that we maximize lift, maximize cargo space, maximize safety, minimize energy consumption, etc. Of course we also have constraints. We cannot physically manufacture a flexible fixed wing that is 800 ft long and thin as a toothpick. To solve the problem, we can write down a big, long, nasty equation that would mathematically characterize the physics, constraints, and objectives and then pick our favorite optimization algorithm and wait for it to churn out the answer (which may take a long time).

Bayesian inference is one algorithm that can be applied to such an optimization problem. Typically one would choose this algorithm amidst a cost function that was stochastic in nature, having noise and/or error in the system, that expressed our confidence.

Finding the Truth, Optimization Style

In some sense, the Bayesian inference mechanism I discussed in previous posts could be seen as an optimization method for finding the truth. If we assume that all the new information we regularly encounter has some (even if very little) truth therein, and we apply that information in the regular Bayesian inference sense, we could then reliably conclude that we have found the “truth,” with some probability (level of confidence), given all the information.

This is highly related to a comment FireTag made on my previous post. He asked

So there are routes to evolve our beliefs toward truth no matter where we start or whatever the order of our search algorithm?

In the context of this question, Bayesian inference can easily be seen as a search algorithm. And, in fact, if we used a Sequential Monte Carlo method, it really does feel like a search algorithm.

In expanding this notion, my response, in part, was:

Absolutely (at least in my book)! Though certainly some search algorithms are definitely worse than others and some starting places better than others! Otherwise what prayer in the world do we have (unless you’re absolutely certain that YOU’VE got it right, but I sure don’t)? I view my religion/spirituality as a compass that (I hope) points me in a good direction. My hope is that if/when the absolute truth is made manifest to me I will be humble enough (and my definition of humble is “openness to the truth”) to recognize it because/in spite of my current confidence distribution.

From this perspective, we might view the church (or whatever church you belong to), the Gospel, this life, and all our associated experience as tools to help us optimize for, and draw nearer to the truth given the objectives and constraints of our personal limitations and the limitations of this mortal existence. While I have encountered a very few number of Mormons who claim that we have ALL the truth, this is not the claim of the LDS church. Most of us, I believe, accept there are things we don’t yet know and don’t yet understand. The real challenge is to have an appropriate confidence distribution such that you will accept that truth when it is made known to you.

However, I finished my response to FireTag with the following:

However, this really opens another can of worms – namely, what is truth? My explanation thus far has been about our perception of truth which may or may not correlate with objective or absolute truth. To argue over whether or not our perception of truth is objective truth is to argue over what forms of evidence are acceptable and what weight we should apply to that evidence (which is the conclusion of this post and is an argument with no victor).

Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him? Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets.

The wording of my resolution was:

“Treat others how I want to be treated.”

I want to make one point here about something I have heard over the years. It is something that has bothered me over time, and I want to state up front what I believe this verse does NOT say – what I believe is a classic case of “wresting” scriptures and creating meaning that never was intended.

I have heard it said of old (*grin*) that we should treat others in whatever way will help them best. After all, this reasoning goes, deep down they really want whatever is best – so if we know what is best for someone, we should do all we can to help them see, recognize, understand and accept that which is best for them. This argument asserts that it’s better to treat someone how they “really” want to be treated (often subconsciously) than to treat them how they “think” they want to be treated – that I, as an enlightened individual, know what is best for them and, therefore, I, as an enlightened individual, should treat them as if they were in my shoes.

To try to say it differently, this approach to “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” is based on you placing yourself in their situation and transferring your own hopes and dreams and expectations on them. While this might sound reasonable and even praiseworthy at first glance, there are at least three problems with this approach that I can see immediately:

1) It is used often as a justification for aggressive action, pressure and even compulsion. At the most extreme, it allowed those in charge of the Inquisition to torture people into confessing non-existent sins – since those doing the torturing were convinced they only were doing what was best for the person being tortured by “cleansing” them of sin and freeing them for a more benevolent judgment in the afterlife. At a more common level, it is used to justify constant and inconsiderate preaching and attempts to convert others – unfortunately, even among our own membership. Again, the reasoning is, “If I didn’t have the Gospel in my life, I would want someone to preach it to me even if I didn’t want to hear it.”

2) It totally ignores and discounts the actual desires of the other person – and illustrates an arrogance that is couched in terms of love but, literally, is judgmental and condescending. In essence, it says, “I know better than you what you need, and I’m never going to quit trying to make you see that, no matter what you want.”

3) It simply isn’t what is commanded in these verses – to do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

I want to finish with that last point, and I want to do so by placing each reader in the shoes of an active member of the LDS Church – and focusing on the reaction of nearly every LDS member who has a friend, family member, acquaintance or stranger who disagrees with Mormonism, has left the LDS Church, believes Mormons are not Christian and/or is saddened at the thought of Mormons ending up in Hell. If that person really is sincere in his concern, and if she really thought that constant badgering might convince you of the error of your ways, would you appreciate her preaching at you every time you were together? Would you appreciate her non-attendance at your wedding reception, since she believes your sealing in the temple is a sham and not recognized by God? Would you appreciate her constant, subtle (or blatant) warnings about your eternal condemnation? Deep down, on a very practical level, what would you really, truly want from her – how would you want her to “do unto you”?

I submit that all of us, at the most basic level, want little more than acceptance and respect and love for who we actually are – recognition that we are capable of making our own decisions – friendship that is genuine and not tied to certain conditions – etc. In other words, we want to be treated as equals – as important – as valuable – as legitimate deciders of our own fate, and we want that for who we ARE, not for who others want us to be.

So, the next time you start to say something to someone else, ask yourself, “How would I respond if someone said that, in that way, to me?” The next time you start to write a blog comment, ask yourself, “How would I respond if someone wrote that, in that way, to me?”. The next time you start to react to someone in any way, ask yourself, “How would I respond if someone reacted that way to me?” In summary, ask yourself:

How would I feel if someone “did that unto me”?

If you would thank God for that person’s words or actions, in the actual circumstances of your real life, “do so unto others”. If you would not thank God (or if you would need to pray for forgiveness) for your reaction to that person’s words or actions, don’t “do so unto others”. Finally, if you really would understand this principle, take one entire day and analyze everything according to this standard:

How would I feel if someone “did that unto me”?

If we really focused on that question, I have no doubt we would stop doing and saying much of what we do and say – and start doing and saying many things we currently do not say and do.

That was my resulotion that month – to treat others more as I actually want them to treat me.

Thoughts?  What am I missing that would support or weaken this interpretation of the Golden Rule?

http://bycommonconsent.com/2010/04/02/friday-reflections-on-mormonism-and-the-cross/

I am going to include my own thoughts on that post – then take this post in a very different direction.

When I talk about the Atonement, I also reference the Sermon on the Mount – and I emphasize the command to be perfect. The wording in verse 48 says, “Be ye therefore perfect.” In the overall context of Chapter 5, I agree that this conclusion means that we become “perfect” by becoming the type of “blessed” person described in the previous verses. Finally, our footnotes for verse 48 define being perfect as being “complete, whole, fully developed” – and I re-word that as “finished”.

It only was at the end of his time on the cross that Jesus declared, “It is finished” – just before he “gave up the ghost”. Iow, it only was after the cross that the Atonement was complete – that Jesus fulfilled his own command to “be ye therefore perfect.”

I honor Gethsemane, but when we ignore Golgotha we worship an incomplete, paritally developed, imperfect Savior and Redeemer.

However, how does this apply to my own life – and, more specifically, my participation in a forum like Mormon Matters? 

I was blessed to be raised with a mother who never once raised her voice to anyone – not in anger and not in any other way. I can say honestly that I have never heard her condemn anyone. When we did something we shouldn’t have done, she would automatically tear up because of what she feared our actions, if continued, would do to us. Those tears were worse BY FAR than anything my dad did to punish us, but it was not transmitted through a sense of guilt. It came across obviously and strongly as a deep and abiding love for us and concern for who we would become.

I have a deep and abiding desire for respectful conversation and mutual understanding explicitly because of what I saw my mother live. She was loved, truly and deeply, by everyone who met her, and I wish I was like that more fully.

Elder Wirthlin’s words about accepting all within the orchestra (not just the piccolos) resonated with me largely because of my upbringing, but my experience since beginning to blog also made his words ring clearly to me. I have seen so much contention and bickering and vitriol, even here at Mormon Matters, and it pains my soul – especially when I know what it does to people.

I don’t ask for compassion in commentary simply because of what it does to a conversation; I ask for it also because of what it can do within those who comment. 

I ask for an increase in civility in our conversations today as a token of our worship, respect, admiration, reverence and/or acknowledgment of He who “finished” his work without revililng those who were the instruments of that end. 

My question for everyone is simple:

How can we recognize the part we play in incivility – and how can we create a healthy, diverse, open, civility here that will be special and meaningful for ALL who participate – even those with whom we disagree strongly?

From my post two weeks ago about the attitude behind vaunting and being puffed up:

If someone lacks charity, it’s not necessarily that he believes “they are worse than I am” – but rather that he believes “I am better than they are”. That is an important distinction, subtle though it be.

It is critical – absolutely important – to understand how the statment that “charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up” applies within one’s own self in order to become more charitable in this regard. This is not easy, and it is not natural. This is true of almost everyone, but it is most difficult for those who are convinced of their own, personal faith perspective – both those who struggle with their faith community and those who are solidly established within it.

BOTH of these groups of people are characterized generally by a feeling of superiority when it comes to their understanding of Truth – and spirituality – and sociality – and leadership – and all other things religious (including Mormon). In practical terms, when we view ourselves as understanding the Gospel better than “those other members” AND think that they all would be better off if they simply were as enlightened as we are – at that moment we are being “puffed up” – and, in public groups (online or at church), that often leads to “vaunting itself” above others.

Bragging and boasting don’t have to be blatant and obvious. They can be subtle and encrypted – and I see it naturally both in those who are in the throes of bitterness and those in the entrenchment of an accepted mainstream.

If anyone wants an eye-opening experience, think about this distinction and definition as you go back and re-read your own comments here and in any online discussion groups where you have participated and/or continue to participate. (Also, think seriously about how you contribute to group discussions of other kinds – in any setting, but espeically at church.) See how many of your comments have either a subtle or obvious element of “vauntiness” or “puffiness”. Most of us have a long way to go in that regard, and it’s hard to see how far unless you are looking consciously for it.  It also is hard to eradicate unless you are working consciously to do so. 

Thoughts?

A child is born in Bukavu

A child is born in Bukavu, and sadness fills his mother’s heart… Bukavu is not the city of David. It is a town in the eastern part of the Democratic Republic of Congo. War has been ravaging the country for years. Ever since Kabila invaded the former Zaire with military support from the US. It is a war that no one speaks of – but it has cost the lives of millions of people and caused unimaginable suffering.

The child’s mother is a young girl, a daughter of the area. This young girl is named Maria.  Maria was a girl like most any other girl in her town. She walked miles for water, she helped her mother with the cooking and she also tilled the land. She learnt how to read in primary school, but ever since the war her parents no longer could afford to pay her school fees. Maria was a believer in the Christian gospel – and went like all other young girls her age to church on Sunday.

Church was a mud hut with a roof made out of straw. There on Sundays, the kids would gather to learn about God. The preacher, an older man with glasses and graying hair, would always talk about God’s love for humanity – and that God once, long time ago, had come to the world as a male child to save humanity. In church, she had also learned some words of English. She knew that when you greeted someone, you had to say: “Good morning, class”. 

The morning breaks

That was then. Prior to the attacks… One day, as the morning broke and shadows gathered, foreign soldiers drove into town. The houses were set on fire. The adults were gathered on the square and the older men were executed one by one. This is how Maria lost her father – and she and her mother witnessed it. The soldiers held their heads for them to watch. Maria was afraid. After having seen the murder of her father, they also separated her from her mother. She was chosen from among the young girls to follow a group of soldiers. One of them stripped her of her clothes and forced himself on her – he, subject to the commanders’ orders.

Now she held this young child in her arms. Her heart was filled with sadness, and she knew that her firstborn child would have given her joy under other circumstances. Some months after the soldiers left, Maria was chased away. The villagers who were left behind were ashamed of her and of the other girls who had become pregnant. These girls were a constant reminder of the day when the men in the village had been powerless – confronted with the threat and the fear of a gun. “Do not ever come back”, were the last words she heard as she was running for her life into the deep woods. 

Maria sings to her little child a song she learned many years ago: “Lullaby, lullaby, my little one. Lullaby, my child so dear. Thy precious life has just begun. Thy mother holds thee near”. And yet, she knows the words do not ring true. True, all life is precious. But not one soul will ever value the life of this child. Born of a violent union, unwanted by his mother, into a world where people willingly march to the sound of guns. What future can she promise him? What life can this child possibly hope to have? Even though she loves him, he is a constant reminder of what happened to her, and like the villagers who once chased her away she cannot find peace when she looks into his eyes. 

Its ranks are filled with soldiers, united, bold and strong…

Victory, victory… The guys were singing and shouting, drunken by their thirst for blood and proud of their conquest. Bukavu had been encircled, trapped, taken, raped and ravaged. The soldiers executed the orders of their commander and had in turn executed the elders of Bukavu – one by one. Herodes was the commander’s name. His boys feared him.

They were now men. They had proven it – to themselves and to him who had led them into victory. Joseph, one of the soldiers, the one who raped Maria, was nonetheless feeling some unease. In following orders, Joseph had forced himself upon this young girl. The others had told him that having sex with a virgin was going to save him from the disease that was making him weak, this pandemic they called AIDS. But more importantly, the others respected him now. He had become one of them: their partner in crime.

You are the man! We saw you, Joseph. You did it. You made her cry – you and your gun. You made her scream. The words were both making him feel proud and good about himself, but for one reason, unknown to him, they were also haunting him. Could he look at a woman again without thinking of the pain he had caused to this young girl – whose name he would never know? In order to survive – either you dominate or you are dominated, Herodes used to say. To rule, you have to systematically brake down the bonds that bind communities together. They need to fear you or fear will overtake you…

I am trying to be like Jesus

War does not bring out the best in us – it brings out the worst in us. True, some acts are acts of courage – but aren’t those heroic acts always associated with saving lives, and not with taking them? Fear begets fear. It is the opposite of love. Misery begets misery. It is the opposite of joy. Violence begets violence. It is the opposite of peace.

The nativity story told the world of a little baby boy, born to Mary, a girl chosen among other girls to be the mother of a Savior, rejected by men and yet, many are they who believe he is their safe ticket to heaven. The story from Bukavu is the story of a little baby boy, born to Maria, a girl chosen among other girls to be the victim of a soldier, so he could gain accept in the eyes of his comrades, so he could become a man, taking by force what he believed was a safe ticket to health.

Jesus taught us that he was not Herodes. “My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.”  Jesus was nonviolent. Not exactly what you would associate with being a King. He was God. He was love, both long-suffering and kind. That is why he came to earth as a man and not as a woman: not because God favors men, but because the concept of what it means to be a Man on earth is so contrary to what it means to being God in heaven – who Mormons believe is male. Be kind, as a child, he said to them, and loving as a hen gathers her chickens:

“O ye people of these great cities which have fallen, who are descendants of Jacob, yea, who are of the house of Israel, how oft have I gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and have nourished you. Yea, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens, and ye would not. O ye house of Israel, whom I have spared, how oft will I gather you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, if ye will repent and return unto me with full purpose of heart”. 

Love one another

It was necessary for Jesus to come to earth in the form and shape of a male – to represent God as his firstborn son, the first among all great men, a king of kings. “Little children, a new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another”.

The divine irony is the fact that Jesus exhibits throughout his life traits that we call feminine: peaceful, loving, kind, sharing, meek, forgiving, gentle, and caring. He helped the poor and he healed the sick. We crucified him, because he was a threat to men everywhere. He challenged the very idea of what it means to be a man: strong, violent, forceful, greedy, noisy, arrogant and proud. He challenged the way we think about achieving peace, not by dominating others before they dominate us, but by showing us a better way to freedom – paved with love and with sacrifice.

In short, this was the message Jesus gave to the modern House of Israel, to the modern sons of Jacob: “What manner of men ought ye to be? Verily I say unto you, even as I am.”  He showed all men an alternative masculinity – that of the nonviolent male who sides with the poor and the downtrodden. Come, follow me, the Savior said. 

For an alternative and nonviolent study of the Book of Mormon, mormongandhi is regularly publishing a study chapter on mormon nonviolence (latter day satyagraha) at http://mormongandhi.com. Each chapter follows the set-up of the Institute Study Manual of the LDS Church. In addition, you can share your thoughts and insights on the nonviolent readings of the Book of Mormon with other “peaceable followers of Christ” (Moroni 7:3) at the discussion forum (http://peaceablefollowers.wordpress.com) created in parallel to the “latter day satyagraha” site.

mormongandhi currently lives in Oslo, Norway. He has a BA in peace and development studies from Bradford University in the UK, where he studied religious peacebuilding, as well as a master’s in peace operations from GMU in Washington D.C.

mormongandhi is looking for alternative and more peaceful ways of thinking and living. He calls himself an advocate for nonviolence in the Restoration movement.

This photograph was taken by Sebastiao Salgado at a gold mine in Brazil.  I first saw it in a room at the University I attend.  As an idealistic and aspiring academic I felt moved by the raw power of the worker as he resisted the guard.  Ever since then I have had a copy of this picture in my study areas.  It reminds me that my life is not just about doing good, but that I have a moral duty to alleviate as much suffering in this world as I can.  It reminds me that sometimes I need to resist those in power to protect the weak.  I believe that is part of the heritage that Christ has given us.

Egon Friedell

In this regard I was recently provoked to thought by something Egon Friedell has said about the Christian tradition.  I had never heard of Egon Friedell, until reading a book by Clive James entitled ‘Cultural Amnesia’ (which I whole-heartedly recommend), but I think I really like him.  James describes him as the ‘polymath’s polymath’.  Yet, Friedell was not merely a book-worm but was also one of the most famous cabaret artist’s of his day in a city (Vienna) full of performers.  Before discussing his ideas I wanted to share one tid-bit from his life which was (oddly) inspiring for me:

‘On the day of the AnschluB in 1938, Friedell saw the storm troopers marching down the street, on their way to the building in which he had his apartment full of books.  He was only a few floors up but it was high enough to do the job.  On his way out of the window he called a warning, in case his falling body hit an innocent passer-by.’

His magnum opus ‘Cultural History of the Modern Age’ contains this line: ‘Mankind in the Christian Era possesses one huge advantage over the ancients: a bad conscience’.  Now it seems that neither James nor Friedell were Christians but they recognised something that the world had been given because of Christianity.  In James’ words, ‘When Friedell talked about a bad conscience, he meant the mind that was capable of seeing that might and right were not the same thing’.

One challenge with making this distinction is discerning it amidst the normalising power of culture.  Seeing oppression and pain inflicted by those in power is difficult when those causing such situations are the same people we revere or respect; it is harder still is to resist it.  ‘Most men’ James notes ‘bend with the breeze: which is to say, they go with the prevailing power.  But a few do not.  With or without Christ’s help, they grow a bad conscience.  Thank God for that.’

Yet, what haunts me more is that, in the words Albert Camus, ‘I [find] that there [are] sweet dreams of oppression within me’.  I really believe that ’it is the nature and disposition of almost all men… to exercise unrighteous dominion’ (D&C 121:39); and this includes me.  Friedell’s ‘bad conscience’ must work inward as much as it flows outward; I must check myself against the tendencies that I have to use any ‘perceived’ authority I might have to justify my own prejudices.  James’ oppressive breeze blows both from within and from without.  

The last century saw many idealistic and bright people bend with that breeze, and yet, within the Christian heritage is the ‘bad conscience’, which urges us to resist oppressive behaviour, even from ourselves.  I wonder whether I have been true to my tradition.  I wonder whether I have stood up for the down-trodden and the out-cast. I wonder whether my respect for authority has led me to turn a blind-eye to unrighteous dominion (wherever that is found).  I hope I can be rigid in one of the few senses I see as important; that I will never concede to view that power leads inevitably to truth.

1 And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him:
2 And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,

Here is my point – my two points, really.

1) This great sermon was delivered as a higher level discourse to his most dedicated followers – including those who eventually would form the new faith of Christianity.  Its standards absolutely are not easy, and its directives absolutely are not natural.

Sometimes we hold the general population of the Church (and each other and others) to these standards, while Jesus himself took great care not to do so of the general population of his followers. This often is a good example of unrealistic expectations – and of demanding others live a standard we ourselves are unable to master.

2) This great sermon was delivered mostly to the MEN who would form the leadership of his movement, even though there is no reason to believe that the listeners were all men.  (I personally believe there were women present.)

QUESTION:

Did the gender composition of the listening group have an impact on the content of the sermon?

Generally speaking, the list of attributes included in the Beatitudes are considered throughout history to be feminine.  Jesus was speaking primarily to men about how to change and grow (repent) and become godlike.  So,

1) Might the Sermon on the Mount have been different if the primary audience had been women?  If so, how?

2) How can we take the general message of repentance (change and growth and the acquisition of godly characteristics) and use it to achieve the proper balance we need to become “perfect” (complete, whole, fully developed)?

3) Must every individual acquire all the characteristics listed – or can a spouse/companion share that endeavor and, between two, create one united, balanced, “prefect” whole?

As we have said multiple times, we delete or edit very, very few comments here at Mormon Matters.  This site was established to have an open forum for discussion among people with widely varying points of view and beliefs.  However, it was not and is not intended to be a site to spew bile, insult people and cast aspersions about others’ faith.  The rules are simple and few, and they can be summarized as:

Be civil.

Comment on the topic of the post.

Address what others say without disparaging them or their character.

Don’t blaspheme, use vulgar language, condemn – and don’t call people sinners who need to repent.

This is not a fourm for personal attacks, and it is not a forum for sweeping broadsides.

Disagreement is fine, even passionate disagreement, but ridicule and accusation and condemnation is not.

I wish this post was not necessary, but please understand one thing:

As much as we believe in the free exchange of ideas and beliefs, comments that are only condemnatory and add nothing to the conversation will be deleted.

If anyone has suggestions or concerns, feel free to comment.  Just do so within the rules outlined above.

For the past two years (almost), I have been an active blogger – to say the least. (*grin*) Actually, to be more precise, I have been a VERY active blogger. OK, that is an understatement.

That has changed over the last three weeks. The internal drive simply has begun to fade, and this change has corresponded to the impending change in my employment situation. I am in the process of changing careers (to something I have wanted to do for a while), and it will take time and focus to be successful in this new stage of my life. I also will be moving with my family to an area where we will need to spend time integrating into a new community, a new ward and a new stake.

I still will maintain my personal blog (Things of My Soul), hopefully with the same focus and format as I do now. I still want to post daily there, as I find great joy and peace and meaning in doing so. I will not market it actively, but everyone is welcome to visit any time. I hope what I write will benefit someone, somehow, somewhere – and I hope sometime in the future I will be able to resume a degree of participation on the group blogs. I have enjoyed and learned from it more than I have words to express.

I simply will be cutting way back on my participation at the group blogs I have frequented so regularly for the past two years. In many ways, I will miss that participation. I will try to post here at Mormon Matters at least monthly, and I will check in as often as I can, but my participation will drop dramatically soon.

I have learned SO much in the last two years, especially about the wonderful group of people who struggle with something (sometimes many things) about the Church and/or the Gospel but continue to serve faithfully or, at least, strive to understand and remain involved despite their uncertainty and doubts. Largely due to my experience blogging, I have come to value deeply Elder Wirthlin’s amazing message in his April 2008 General Conference address, “Concern for the One”. (This talk has become my favorite of all time.) Among other things, this humble man of God said:

Some are lost because they are different. They feel as though they don’t belong. Perhaps because they are different, they find themselves slipping away from the flock. They may look, act, think, and speak differently than those around them and that sometimes causes them to assume they don’t fit in. They conclude that they are not needed.

Tied to this misconception is the erroneous belief that all members of the Church should look, talk, and be alike. The Lord did not people the earth with a vibrant orchestra of personalities only to value the piccolos of the world. Every instrument is precious and adds to the complex beauty of the symphony. All of Heavenly Father’s children are different in some degree, yet each has his own beautiful sound that adds depth and richness to the whole.

This variety of creation itself is a testament of how the Lord values all His children. He does not esteem one flesh above another, but He “inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; … all are alike unto God.”

Over the last two years, I have blogged publicly largely with these members – those who have been hurt in one way or another because they look, THINK or act differently. I have felt a connection to them and their concerns – in some ways, more deeply than I have felt almost any connection in my entire life. The one thing that has weighed the most heavily on my mind and heart about my upcoming reduction in blogging time is the accompanying cessation of my active fellowship with many of the people I have come to love so much. (even you, Doug) *grin*

So, in closing, may we do all we can, in whatever way we can, to be a force for good – to be charitable in our communications – to think before we speak and edit before we comment – to see God in those around us and with whom we communicate – to become more Christ-like in a very conscious, intentional way. May those who struggle and those with whom we are different be blessed by our acceptance, understanding and love. May they feel God’s love through us. May the world be better because of our blogging, and may God smile when he sees how we treat His children – our brothers and sisters.

May there be a road – and may we travel joyfully together along it (caring for and succoring each other) as we make our way back home.

The Law of Consecration offers a lot of interesting discussion topics and ideas. To me, a political junkie, one of the most interesting concepts tied up in consecration is the idea of equality. The Book of Mormon has some interesting passages regarding equality; I cannot help thinking that they got Joseph thinking about economics and righteousness. Or, the impact of temporal things upon righteousness, anyway. So, when the Lord gives the newly organized Church his Law, equality is a big issue.

Nowhere is this more directly stated than in Section 78, where the Lord tells his people that the time has come,

“[t]hat you may be equal in the bonds of heavenly things, yea, and earthly things also, for the obtaining of heavenly things. For if ye are not equal in earthly things ye cannot be equal in obtaining heavenly things; For if you will that I give unto a place in the celestial world you must prepare yourselves by doing the things which I have commanded you and required of you.” (D&C 78:5-7).

The idea just has the ring of revelation. If we were all equal, think of the problems we could avoid. There would be no poor, at least in the relative sense within the Church. There would be less pride and envy and greed. It would be much easier to avoid materialism if everyone was on an even plane, economically. Equality is a great idea, right?

On the other hand, as Joseph soon learned, voluntary consecration is hard to achieve. As an initial practical matter, there must be a “critical mass” of wealth to sustain the group. But once that is achieved, not everyone will easily overcome their temporal desires. For those who can, it is hard to be equal with someone who is not particularly interested in being equal with you. If you don’t have everyone on board, the whole system is destined for failure.

As Richard Bushman points out in Rough Stone Rolling (p. 183), the system never worked properly. The lack of property to distribute among the poverty-stricken early saints hampered the system’s effectiveness from the start. Joseph struggled on, aided by Edward Partridge and loyal Colesville Saints, who made up a large part of the Mormon population in Zion. In 1833, the Mormon’s expulsion from Jackson County would close down everything. The system’s two year existence was about average for the various communal experiments being undertaken in the period.

So what about consecration for you and me, today?

I have to say, many members of my ward are kind and generous and charitable – - much more so than I. I truly believe that they take their commitment to consecration seriously. But, I do not see any big push to be “equal in earthly things.” In fact, most of my ward members seem downright resistant to the wealth equalization, Obama-style. (I know, I know, it’s not the same, but still . . .)

What do you think? Is earthly equality a something to shoot for? Or is it a heavenly aspiration we cannot achieve in the real world? Could Joseph ever have made it work by free will alone, without an economic or political system to reinforce (enforce?) it? Why has the Church implemented it in only the loosest sense? And, would Joseph have voted for the Obama tax and budget plans?

In corporate America, misconduct is often characterized as a violation of a law, rule, regulation and/or a direct threat to public interest, such as fraud, health/safety violations, and corruption.  Whistle-blower protection is a serious concern as others inside an organization tend to “shoot the messenger” when it comes to whistle-blowers.  Major corporations are wise to provide options and multiple complaint mechanisms to handle internal complaints.  I work for one such organization.  There are many vehicles to handle internal complaints:  employee surveys, human resources groups (several different kinds), an ombuds office, online employee discussion forums that allow anonymous participation, and a very large compliance and legal department to proactively police regulatory issues.

In my experience, the vast majority of what gets reported as “misconduct” is really something else, such as:

• a complainant with hurt feelings
• the result of poor relationship or communication skills (either on the part of the complainant or a direct leader or some other third party); in some cases, this alleged misconduct is actual misconduct, but not always.
• a misunderstanding of what the laws and regulations are or what the supposed “misconduct” activity entailed
• an act of vengeance (e.g. the complainant hopes to exact revenge on another employee or leader using the complaint vehicle as a weapon)

That is not always the case, of course, which is why it’s worth it to sift through hundreds of complaints to find the one that is a real issue for the company and that requires intervention.  To the complainant, the complaint is very serious and needs to be resolved to their satisfaction.  In reality, it’s nearly impossible to separate the complaint from the complainant.  The more neutral the complainant, the more valuable the complaint.  Some of these factors make the complainant seem less neutral:

• The complainant wants something of personal benefit as a result of the complaint.
• The complainant is vengeful toward individuals they accuse of wrong-doing or there is a known personality conflict between them and an accused party.
• The complainant has a history of making complaints.
• If they no longer have any ties to the organization (an ex-insider), that complaint might also seem suspect to insiders, regardless of how neutrally the complaint is phrased.

So, when it comes to complaints within the organization of the church, how do we do?  Here are some areas where I think we do well:

• Complaints are handled at the lowest level possible.
• Complaints are generally handled in confidence (obviously, there are individuals who have blown this, but IME, local leaders tend to take confidentiality to extremes).
• There is a focus on accountability (LDS scriptures actually instruct members to handle personal conflicts between them and the other party).
• Actual misconduct complaints (e.g. fraud, legal, etc.) are generally taken very seriously and actions to remedy are easy to handle swiftly due to the lay clergy aspect of the church.

Where do we sometimes fall down?

• Females alleging sexual misconduct may find the process extra difficult due to the lack of female representation in church courts.  A female who already feels violated may have a difficult time in addressing an all-male leadership with painful details that are necessary to assess the situation.
• There is very little effective access to top levels of the organization.  This is really only an issue if the complaint is about local leadership or if the complaint has organizational implications.  We should bear in mind that this is how the Catholic church got into trouble over the priest molestation scandals–by pushing too much to local levels to handle and not realizing they had an institutional problem before it was too late.
• Organizations with deep pockets are often the target of spurious law suits which makes identifying the serious cases more difficult.
• Disclosures about financial and legal activities are either vague or considered confidential.  But again, this is often the case in a corporation as well.  While financial disclosure of a publicly-traded company is more open, airing dirty laundry over minor litigations is not.
• Local leaders may lack the skill to assess and deal with issues and may hold complainants at bay to cover their ineptitude.  They may use unrighteous dominion to punish the complainant.  And there is some open question about the church’s culpability when an untrained lay clergy makes a local error in judgment.
• Individuals feel guilty for complaining in a religious structure.  This is true of all churches, but added to it is our lay clergy.  It’s harder to complain about an unpaid volunteer.
• Whistle-blowers may not be taken seriously if they are not considered neutral or are frequent complainers.  But this is true in all human organizations, and is the basis for the age-old story The Boy Who Cried Wolf.  There’s sometimes a reason the messenger gets shot.

So, what do you think?  Do we do a good job dealing with complaints or not?  Do we do a better job with more severe complaints or minor issues?  What should we do to improve how we handle complaints or is the system working just fine?  Discuss.

I write from the perspective of a Disciples of Christ minister whose girlfriend is a devout Mormon. I am, therefore, very sympathetic and supportive of the LDS (I pray for your church daily) but embrace the theological position often known as Protestant Liberalism. In reading one of Mr. Nielson’s posts a while ago, two things jumped out at me. One is the issue of the relationship of Jesus and the Father and the other is the relationship of faith and logic. I will address the latter in this response and leave the former for another time.

There are many brilliant people in all the various religions, including those which tend to downplay the role of scholarship. Yet in spite of all this brilliance there is still considerable disagreement over many religious teachings. In the early 1800s this state of affairs led a number of individuals to conclude that there was something seriously wrong with this picture and that it needed to be fixed. Among those individuals were the founders of my religious tradition (Barton Stone and Alexander Campbell) and your Prophet, Joseph Smith. All of these folks felt the solution was to restore the Church to its pristine, original form. While they obviously disagreed on the path and shape of restoration, they nevertheless agreed on the need for it.

The result, ironically, was the formation of yet several more religious bodies that do not agree with each other even though all of them contain a number of pretty smart people. While members of these various churches are by and large convinced that they succeeded in restoring primitive Christianity, the problem of Christian unity has not been solved. A common response to this state of affairs from within the “restored” churches is that the people who stayed Catholic or Presbyterian or whatever are either mistaken or, less charitably, rebellious.

My take on this is that religion, by its very nature, precludes a great deal of unanimity in the field of doctrine. In the physical realm various measurements and observations can be made and the nature of a thing pretty well settled. (Though even here there are some mysterious phenomena that set scientists at odds with each other.) But what measurement can be taken of God? Even if God does have a physical body it is not visible to us, except in the world of dreams and visions (not exactly test tube material).

The end result is that all of us are reliant upon own experiences of the divine and/or the experiences of others. Some of these experiences have, for various reasons, become normative for certain groups of people. None has been compelling enough to capture everyone or even most everyone on this planet. Then within each religious (and non religious) group there is further reflection, teaching, revelation, and enculturation. The result is the establishment of certain presuppositions and beliefs that are extremely difficult to even see, much less question, from within one’s own tradition, regardless of how brilliant one might be.

In other words, while science has pretty well established norms and standards that almost every scientist accepts, religion has no uniform code, just a variety of traditions and tests that have grown up over time in different parts of the world. While one would think that this situation would make religious folk tentative in their beliefs, the fact of the matter is that religious people tend to be among the most certain, sometimes with devastating results, sometimes with remarkably healing results.

And therein lies the difficult thing about religion: it can give incredible levels of certainty to different people even though those certainties are diametrically opposed to each other. And what’s more, the same certainties can produce diametrically opposed results. My girlfriend, for example, is absolutely certain that the Book of Mormon is true and the result is a life of love. That same certainty in another person can produce a harsh and judgmental attitude that is at best abrasive.

So how do we proceed in an area of life that is so important, where there is so much certainty, and yet so little agreement? To put it personally, how do I respond to people who are certain that such and such is true even when I am just as sure it’s not?

The bottom line for me (for now anyway) is that I have to hold to my convictions while honoring the right of others to hold theirs. That means not only their beliefs but the means by which they come by those beliefs. For some, a revelatory experience is supreme; for others the dictates of logic; and for still others some sort of historical/scientific/archeological evidence. It is the combination and interaction of meaningful criteria and religious background that determine what makes sense to each person.

To illustrate, “I’ve read the Book of Mormon and God has told me it is true,” is very compelling for some people while for others (myself included) something a little less subjective is needed. This isn’t just a matter of religious belief; it’s also a matter of epistemology, of how someone knows something to be true. It was when this fact dawned on me that I stopped arguing theology with people and began to listen and discuss instead. The result has been most helpful and I am so pleased to discover other people, from other religious traditions, who are also willing to approach religious differences from a desire to understand rather than convert. (I am, BTW, not opposed to missionary activity. I just think it should take the form of invitation and development of thought and faith rather than, “I’ve got to convince you of this stuff.”)

I don’t think belief renders logic useless or irrelevant in the religious quest. I also don’t think logic should be the final arbiter of religion. Instead, I think logic should be seen as one tool in the human quest for understanding. Like any tool it has its place and will be used with different results and levels of effectiveness, depending upon who is using it and when and where they’re using it. I also think that encounters with people outside of our faith tradition, if conducted with respect and the desire to learn, can be a tremendous source of enrichment. At the very least these encounters will remind us that good and intelligent people can come to different understandings. At best they can give us deeper insight into how we understand ourselves and God.

If I had not focused on meekness earlier in the year, when I defined meekness and where I discussed being gentler with the ones we love, I probably would have defined mercy in terms of being kind. However, as I thought about it, it hit me that “mercy” is more than being kind and gentle – in a very important and fundamental way that has direct relevance to blogging.

Meekness includes gentleness and benevolence – which includes kindly generosity. Being meek means reacting with kindness – by being gentle in our response to others. For example, meekness is the central concept in Proverbs 15:1 – where it says, “A soft answer turneth away wrath.” In other words, meekness comes into play whenever something needs to be done or said – by mitigating the harshness that naturally would accompany a “rebuke” and helping us “say it as gently as possible”.

Mercy, on the other hand, encompasses “soft answers” (since they do not “inflict harm” to the same degree as “hard answers”), but it goes beyond meekness in that it often requires us to give no answer at all – to inflict no harm, even to the more minor degree that a meek response would cause. It requires us to “turn the other cheek” – an act of full mercy (not striking back although “justified”) NOT merely meekness, as I have assumed previously. In this way, someone can be meek (gentle and kind) without being merciful (fully non-judgmental and understanding and forgiving), but it is impossible to be merciful without being meek.

Let me use one example from the life of Jesus to illustrate this point – and to show that meekness and mercy are not required always of a righteous judge. When Jesus cleared the temple, He was neither meek nor merciful. He acted forcefully and dispensed justice energetically. He was able to do so “righteously” for two reasons:

1) As the designated God of this creation (the divine representative of the Father), He had authority over the temple which had been built as His house. He was the “Master of the House” in the fullest sense.  He had the right to enforce rules for what happened inside that house.  (For an interesting discussion of this in our own world, see You Make the Call: Holiday Party Edition.)

2) As the Eternal Judge, he had the authority to administer justice – literally to choose whatever action was “correct” for that situation. He could see the big picture and “judge righteous judgment“.

There are times, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost, that we may act legitimately with neither meekness nor mercy – when we may “reprove betimes (occasionally) with sharpness (precision)” – since these instances explicitly are directed by a member of the Godhead. All other times, when we are not acting through direct communication from deity, we are told to be either merely meek or truly merciful – by inflicting as little harm as possible through gentleness and kindness or no harm at all through mercy. That is a fine line that must be drawn, I believe, in each and every instance – which is one reason why the Gift of the Holy Ghost is so critical to our progression and growth.

What are the implications of this concept for Mormon Matters?  How does this applty to the way we intereact with each other in this sort of on-line community?  How does the attainment of this objective vary in this type of setting from one in which we interact face-to-face?  Are there downsides to meekness and mercy here and, if so, what are they?  How can we balance this directive with the desire (or occasional need) to defend and correct – or act as an administrator and moderator?