[This is a "reprint" of part 3 of a series I posted on my home blog, www.ldsphilosopher.com]

In a previous post, I presented Oakeshott’s view of rationality as the capacity to form interpretations of and responses to experience. In another post, I described ways in which the movie Contact provides an excellent example of this. In this post, I will explore a little deeper how Ellie’s experience in the movie illustrates Oakeshott’s point. I would recommend that those who haven’t read either of these two posts do so here: Rationality Redefined; Jodi Foster’s Empiricism in Contact.

Interpreting Experience

There were several ways to interpret Ellie’s reported experience. The committee chairman interpreted the entire experience as a delusion: Ellie, a young woman starved for contact with her long deceased father, created the experience in her mind to ease her loneliness and sorrow; the entire project was a hoax developed by an eccentric personality who had for a long time been influencing Ellie’s life and research.

Ellie, although she admitted that the chairman’s interpretation seemed more likely than her own, chose to interpret the experience as an interaction with an alien intelligence that wished to learn about the human race. She chose to interpret the experience this way because this interpretation brought hope and meaning to her life. It justified her changed heart and renewed humility.

If Michael Oakeshott’s point of view is correct, it implies that no interpretation is a priori known to be true. How any given experience is to be interpreted is “up for grabs,” so to speak. However, this does not mean that all interpretations are equal; they all have implications and consequences that we should consider. Let’s look at another example that may help illustrate this.

Scrooge and Gravy

Each Christmas time, I try to take the time to reread Charles Dickens’ classic novel, A Christmas Carol. One particular passage in the book caught my attention this year. Ebenezer Scrooge is conversing with the ghost of his former partner, Jacob Marley:

“You don’t believe in me,” observed the Ghost.

“I don’t.” said Scrooge.

“What evidence would you have of my reality, beyond that of your senses?”

“I don’t know,” said Scrooge.

“Why do you doubt your senses?”

“Because,” said Scrooge, “a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!”

Indeed, Scrooge is right. Every experience may be interpreted any number of ways. Is it possible that a biochemical reaction in Scrooge’s brain induced him to hallucinate his entire experience? Of course it is possible. Scrooge, however, abandoned that possibility, and was convinced that the ghost did, in reality, exist.

What caused him to believe in the ghost’s existence? He didn’t arrive at the conclusion through logical deduction. Reason, as we have seen, can lead us interpret our experiences in any number of ways. As I discussed in Rationality Redefined, reason is our capacity to make sense of our experience, and there is no single way to do it. Shirley Robin Letwin describes this point of view aptly: “A man may have to deal with physiological processes within his body and physical processes outside it … , but as long as he retains his reason, he chooses how to understand and deal with his experience.”

The Basis of Conviction

At the conclusion of Scrooge’s experience, you would be hardpressed to get him to chalk up the whole experience to an “undigested bit of beef.” Certainly, the possibility still existed. However, Scrooge would never accept that possibility because he was changed, in a penetrating way, because of his experience. There is something about revelatory experiences that invites us to interpret them as such. When we accept that invitation, we abandon alternative interpretations and open ourselves to be changed forever.

For example, when I prayed and asked God if the teachings of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints were true, I received many revelatory experiences convincing me that I had received an answer from God.

A well-trained psychologist will remind me about confirmation bias, a process where individuals will notice information that confirms their belief (or what they want to believe) and ignore contradictory information.

A well-trained physiologist will remind me that certain hormonal changes at the right times may have led me to believe that I was having a feel-good experience in answer to prayer, when it was really just coincidence.

I confess that each of these alternatives have a certain amount of plausibility, in the sense that each of them are rational interpretations of my experiences. However, there was something about the experiences that invited me to believe that they were communications from God. I accepted that invitation, committed myself to that interpretation, changed as a person because of it, and have never regretted it.

I write this post because I think it’s important that we understand this central fact: there is no logical certainty in our religious beliefs. There isn’t meant to be. Our beliefs are rooted in lived experience, not reason. Also, there is no certain way to interpret those experiences. However, we have committed, through an act of free will and an act of faith (and in response to an invitation that we believe comes from God), to interpret certain lived experiences as revelatory experiences.

In other words, we believe because we choose to believe. Some would say that this is precisely why we should abandon our beliefs in favor of “more likely” interpretations. However, this analysis applies to any and all interpretations, and therefore applies equally to the atheist or the materialist who look for “scientific” interpretations of lived experience. Thus, Oakeshott’s view of rationality “levels the playing field” in an important way. A biological, evolutionary, or reductionist account of religious experience is not better by virtue of the fact that it relies solely on scientific principles, because any commitment to those principles is simply that: a commitment.

The act of choice that leads to our conviction may not necessarily involve pre-deliberation; in fact, it rarely does. The choice resides in the fact that we are constantly and actively interpreting our experiences and responding to invitations from the Spirit. There is nothing wrong with this–it is partly what makes us human. And it is what allows us to commit to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and to construe the world through the lens of revealed truth.

Elder Hafen recently gave (at an Evergreen conference) what I consider to be a wonderful speech concerning same-sex attraction and gay marriage. It is linked on the LDS Newsroom. This speech is probably the most well-balanced and well-informed article on same-sex marriage by an LDS general authority.

Then, to my dismay, I came across this post at FMH, in which ECS criticizes Hafen’s speech, in particular his use of references. But the FMH post itself is misleading and needs to be critiqued.

First, ECS critiques that Hafen cites a paraphrase from a Wall Street Journal article about the recent APA resolution on reparative therapy, rather than the resolution itself. Here is the quote in question, followed by ECS’s reply:

Just last month the American Psychological Association adopted a resolution stating that there is insufficient evidence to prove conclusively whether sexual orientation can be changed.  But in what the Wall Street Journal called “a striking departure” from that Association’s earlier hesitation about encouraging such therapy, the same resolution also stated that “it is ethical—and can be beneficial—for counselors to help some clients reject gay or lesbian attractions,” especially clients with a strong religious identity.

It’s a bit strange that Hafen quotes a paraphrase of the resolution written by WSJ reporter instead of quoting the A.P.A. resolution itself.  I read the APA’s report, and I tried to find this quote.  It didn’t appear in the official APA Resolutions or anywhere in the APA report.   Then I noticed that the WSJ article doesn’t say the quoted language is an APA resolution.  The WSJ article doesn’t say anything about a resolution – yet Hafen claims that the paraphrased language written by a WSJ reporter  (that is not a resolution) is a resolution sanctioned by the A.P.A.  More importantly, the WSJ paraphrase of a non-Resolution does not accurately characterize any A.P.A. Resolutions.

My counters:

1. People often quote paraphrases for rhetorical reasons. The in-text citation and footnote are both correct, at any rate, making it clear that this quote comes from the WSJ article.

2. The WSJ article DOES talk about a resolution! In fact, the very quote ECS provides from the article does:

But in a striking departure, the American Psychological Association said Wednesday that it is ethical — and can be beneficial — for counselors to help some clients reject gay or lesbian attractions.

What is “said” here is the resolution! The fact that Hafen knows this, but apparently ECS does not, shows who has done more research on the matter. In fact, ECS’s comments betray how little she knows about what happened at the APA meeting last month. At any rate, it is false to say that “The WSJ article doesn’t say anything about a resolution.” Ooh, kind of weakens ECS’s argument, doesn’t it? Yes.

3. The WSJ paraphrase DOES accurately characterize the APA resolution. It quotes the chair (note, this is the person in charge) of the resolution explaining the need for this kind of middle-ground with religious groups.

“We’re not trying to encourage people to become ‘ex-gay,’” said Judith Glassgold, who chaired the APA’s task force on the issue. “But we have to acknowledge that, for some people, religious identity is such an important part of their lives, it may transcend everything else.” . . . “They’re faced with a terrible dilemma,” Dr. Glassgold said. The profession has to offer alternatives, she says, “so they don’t pursue these ineffective therapies” promising change.

I don’t have time to defend this claim like I would like to, but I do think that Hafen’s quote is consistent with the spirit of the resolution–and the quote above speaks to that. Interesting that ECS says nothing about any of this.

Second, ECS asserts that Hafen calls homosexuality a disorder. But he does no such thing. He simply criticizes the motivations in declassifying it in the 1970s. Not quite the same thing as calling it a disorder (e.g., maybe it never should have been called a disorder, but nonetheless its being removed as one was more a matter of political motivations than anything–not an irrelevant point even if it one wouldn’t call it a disorder). It is simply inaccurate to say that he called it a disorder because he did no such thing. In the interest of accurate reporting, ECS would be wise to avoid the very things she is criticizing.

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[This is a "reprint' of part 2 of a series I posted on my home blog, www.ldsphilosopher.com]

One of my favorite movies is Contact, based on a novel written by Carl Sagan. One reason I like it is that it makes such important statements about how we come to know things. (Spoiler alert: Those who haven’t seen the movie and would not like the plot spoiled for them should not read this post.)

Ellie Arroway and her friend Palmer Joss discuss the meaning of religious experience.

One of my favorite movies is Contact, based on a novel written by Carl Sagan. One reason I like it is that it makes such important statements about how we come to know things. (Spoiler alert: Those who haven’t seen the movie and would not like the plot spoiled for them should not read this post.)

The movie is about a woman named Eleanor Arroway (Ellie, played by Jodi Foster), who is an astronomer working for the SETI program (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence). She scans the stars using radio telescopes, looking for radio signals from other planets that may be communications from intelligent life outside the solar system.

Traditional Empiricism

Ellie is an atheist (or at best, an agnostic); she does not find any compelling evidence to believe in God. She refuses to believe in anything unless it can be demonstrated to her scientifically. She does not feel that there is enough evidence to warrant belief in a Supreme Being.

Ellie befriends a man named Palmer Joss, who is a theologian and a humanitarian specialist who writes books about the lack of meaning in our lives. He finds it remarkable that despite an increased standard of living and incredible technology, we feel so much more distant from each other and still search for the meaning that is absent in our lives. At one point, he shares his conversion experience with her. He describes his troubled childhood and his first experience with God:

Joss: I had … an experience. Of belonging. Of unconditional love. And for the first time in my life I wasn’t terrified, and I wasn’t alone.

Ellie: And there’s no chance you had this experience simply because some part of you needed to have it?

Joss: Look, I’m a reasonable person, and reasonably intelligent. But this experience went beyond both. For the first time I had to consider the possibility that intellect, as wonderful as it is, is not the only way of comprehending the universe. That it was too small and inadequate a tool to deal with what it was faced with.

Ellie confesses that she cannot believe in his experience without some physical evidence to support it. Without that, she has no grounds for belief.

The Experience

Soon Ellie discovers a signal from a neighboring star called Vega. The signal transmits a series of prime numbers (a phenomenon that cannot be naturally explained), with frequencies containing instructions for building a massive machine. Ellie and a group of scientists discover that the machine is designed to transport one person by unknown means to an unknown location.

Eventually she has an opportunity to use the machine, as a representative of the human race in its first contact with extraterrestrial intelligence. The machine works; Ellie is transported through a wormhole to another world, where she meets an alien being who appears to her in the form of her long-deceased father, on a beach setting recollected from her childhood. The aliens had downloaded her memory and created a setting that would be not only familiar but familial to her. They tell her that only she would be able to visit, and that in time her race would find its way to the stars. This was just one small step, and the next step would have to wait. This, they said, was the way it has been done for billions of years.

Ellie is transported back to earth, where she is stunned to learn that, by earth time, she was gone for only a fraction of a second. In fact, nobody thinks that she even left; they are busily trying to figure out why the machine malfunctioned. Ellie insists that the machine worked fine, that she had contacted alien life, and had been gone many hours. However, every scientific instrument in the room indicates that nothing significant had happened. Even her personal recording device showed only static.

The Conversion

The following video clip shows the subsequent inquiry, during which Ellie is interviewed/interrogated about her experience.

For those who can’t get the video to work, Ellie is asked if she can prove that her experience was real, to which she replies that she cannot. She is asked,

Dr. Arroway, you come before us with no evidence. No records, no artifacts–only a story that–to put it mildly–strains credibility. Over half a trillion dollars was spent, dozens of lives were lost. … Are you really going to sit there and tell us that we should simply take this all on faith?

The chairman of the committee presents a compelling alternative account of Ellie’s experience and discovery. He attributes the whole discovery to an elaborate hoax prepared by S. R. Hadden, an eccentric and incredibly wealthy man who not only funded Ellie’s SETI research, but also owns, as subsidiaries, the Japanese subcontractors who were paid to develop and build the machine. It seems that Hadden was made incredibly wealthy and famous by Ellie’s discovery, and thus had a strong motive to fake the extraterrestrial communication.

Ellie admits that there are other explanations for her discovery and her experience, that perhaps she had a delusional episode, and that possibly the whole machine was a hoax. She said, “As a scientist, I must concede that, I must volunteer that.” The chairman of the committee then asks, “Then why don’t you just withdraw your testimony and concede that this journey to the center of the galaxy in fact never took place?” To this, Ellie emotionally responds,

Because I can’t. I had … an experience. I can’t prove it. I can’t even explain it. All I can tell you is that everything I know as a human being, everything I am–tells me that it was real.

I was given something wonderful. Something that changed me. A vision of the universe that made it overwhelmingly clear just how tiny and insignificant–and at the same time how rare and precious we all are. A vision … that tells us we belong to something greater than ourselves … that we’re not–that none of us–is alone.

I wish I could share it. I wish everyone, if only for a moment–could feel that sense of awe, and humility … and hope. That continues to be my wish.

Empiricism Means Experience

Ellie had discovered exactly what Joss was trying to convey earlier in the film. In fact, she borrowed Joss’s own words as she tried to describe her experience. Some experiences cannot be proven, only reported. Some experiences can completely change us, and we can’t communicate that change in words; we can only invite others to seek their own life-changing experiences.

I do not believe that it is our job only to rationally justify or logically prove the doctrines we believe in. Bruce R. McConkie said, “The scriptures have many references to revelation. The prophets have said much about it. What it means to us is that we need religious experience. We need to become personally involved with God.”¹ We need, he said, to seek experiences with God, of which we can then testify and report to others.

As a Christian and a Latter-day Saint, I do not base my convictions on logic or reason. I had … an experience. I felt the witness of the Holy Spirit testify to my heart that God is real, and that Jesus Christ is His son. I base my convictions on experiences that I have had.

One of the claims that I would like to make is that Ellie’s conviction was, in a very real sense, based upon empirical experience. In this context, I do not use the word “empirical” to mean scientific; I simply use it to mean experience as the basis of knowledge. The experience was not necessarily replicable, public, or measurable, but it was nonetheless an experience. Traditional empiricism limits the scope of knowledge to those experiences that are measurable and replicable. The empiricism that I adhere to certainly includes these experiences, but also the full range of human experience, including religious experiences. Thus, I contrast my epistemological worldview against ancient Greek rationalism, which holds that knowledge can be obtained through rational processes alone.

In my next post, I explore further how this movie relates with Michael Oakeshott’s view on reason, and also to the Latter-day Saint claim to revealed truth.

Notes

1. Bruce R. McConkie, “How to Get Personal Revelation,” Tambuli, Apr. 1981, p. 4.

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[This is a "reprint" of part 1 of a series I posted on my home blog, ldsphilosopher.com]

Early Greek philosophers saw reason as the conduit through which human beings could access the unchanging certainties of the cosmos. This perspective actually makes some sense. We may age, wither, and die, but the Pythagorean theorem remains unchanged through time. The conclusions of rational thought were seen as the bedrock truths at the bottom of our swiftly changing world.

This understanding of human reason implies that rational people will converge on the same ideas. An interesting, subtle, but extremely important side effect of this point of view is expressed aptly by John Locke: “All that is voluntary in our knowledge, is the employing or withholding any of our [rational] faculties. … But they being employed, our will hath no power to determine the knowledge of the mind one way or another.” Thus, the conclusions of rational thought are inevitable.

Modern philosophers have, to some extent, rejected this ancient perspective on rationality. Instead, reason has been seen as a human tool for satisfying our individual desires. This is easily seen in the example of Sigmund Freud, who believed that human beings possess, at the bottom, a sea of insatiable desires (the id), which are satisfied more effectively by forming a rationality more suited to pursue them (the ego). While few overtly subscribe to Freud’s philosophy, it is merely an instantiation of a widespread modern trend which David Hume summarized when he described reason as “the slave of the passions.”

Michael Oakeshott’s Point of View

In contrast to both trends, Michael Oakeshott did not describe reason as either a conduit to certain truth or a slave of human passion. According to Shirley Robin Letwin, Oakeshott believed reason was “a purely human, but creative power.” Rationality, according to Oakeshott, “is a faculty for inventing interpretations of and responses to experience.”

Basically, reason is the human capacity to “make sense” of the world, to create order and make patterns out of otherwise unordered experience. “In this picture,” explained Letwin, “if a person’s faculties are in good order, he exercises his rationality in whatever he is doing because he is always interpreting his experience and responding in the manner that he selects. This means that whenever a man is aware of anything, he has made something of it.”

There is no single path that rationality may follow. A person may make sense of the same experience in any number of ways. For example, he may make sense of his trip to the fast food restaurant as a deserved reward after dieting for a lengthy time, or he may make sense of the trip as an unfortunate indulgence after a long time of resisting temptation. Which way a person makes sense of his experience is his choice. “In short, to say that a man is a rational being is to say that he makes of himself what he will and that things appear to him as he chooses to see them.”

When we see rationality this way, we see that all of human action and perception involves choice. “To say that human beings possess individuality,” explained Letwin, “means that all are the makers of their own thoughts, … and that they are responsible for what they become.” With this insight comes a danger, however. Letwin warns,

But if understanding rationality in this fashion (as a purely human attribute, instead of as a pipeline to non-human certainties) offers a better explanation of individuality, it also suffers from a great drawback: It allows no escape from the constant flux of human life. And the implications can be highly disconcerting. As there is no cosmic necessity for any human contrivance, everything can be questioned.

What this means is that none of our beliefs or truth claims can be indisputably justified through rational analysis. For example, said Letwin,

however firmly we assert that “every human being is to be treated as an end and never as a means,” that understanding must be a commitment because we accept it even though there are alternatives to it that we cannot demonstrate to be necessarily false. We can elaborate and embellish this commitment, but we cannot establish a universal and wholly uncontentious obligation to regard every human being as an end in himself.

In other words, our most cherished beliefs can never be demonstrated to be indubitably true; we can simply commit to them as an act of faith. We can certainly persuade others to do the same thing; we may even use logic and other persuasive tools to convince them to. However, any subsequent conversion is best compared to a voluntary shift in allegiance, because at no time did we prove that our beliefs were true—we only persuaded others to relinquish their commitment to their former beliefs and commit to a new point of view. According to Letwin, “science is as vulnerable as morality.” He continues:

If we accept a scientific explanation of the precipitation we call rain, we may confidently say that anyone who expects to produce precipitation by rolling stones is mistaken. Our awareness that we may later change our views on rain need not prevent us from declaring the statement to be true. But we cannot ultimately justify our view to the stone-rolling rainmaker other than by declaring a commitment to a particular manner of explaining such phenomena—the manner which we consider to be “scientific.”

In other words, certainty is no longer the product of reason; certainty must be found elsewhere, if at all. I suspect that certainty is not impossible from this point of view—it just cannot be rational certainty. Rational certainty is no more than conviction.

Summary

This view of human rationality makes individuality inevitable. While the ancient view of reason implied that rational people will converge on a single idea, Oakeshott’s perspective implies that divergence of worldviews is possibly inevitable among rational people. Letwin explains, “Disputes are bound to arise not just because human beings can be wicked [as in the ancient view of reason], but because they are rational. … In short, once we cease to think of human rationality as a pipeline to eternal verities, we can achieve a coherent understanding of human individuality.”

Does this point of view conflict with a Latter-day Saint worldview? I haven’t yet made up my mind about the issue. Many moralists argue in favor of the ancient view of reason because the implications of the modern view of reason can lead to nihilism. Oakeshott’s view of human reason, however, lacks the certainty provided by the ancient view, but may, perhaps, avoid the nihilism of the modern. Consider: few Latter-day Saints claim to know indubitably, through logical deductions, the restored doctrines of the gospel. That kind of logical pursuit is not the invitation we find in scripture. Rather, we are invited to commit ourselves to follow the Savior by making promises, and then to be true to those promises afterwards.

Certainly, we claim certainty through divine revelation. Consider Bruce R. McConkie’s claim that the divinity of the Savior Jesus Christ is not established through logic, but by apostolic witnesses. It doesn’t seem as though revealed truth is something that requires reason to be a conduit to certain truth, since none of the important truths of the gospel are rooted in the claims of reason. I will discuss more of the epistemological implications of Oakeshott’s point of view in a future post. For now, let’s consider the possibility that divine revelation is one of many kinds of experiences that we subsequently make sense of. Unique to the experience of divine revelation is the fact that it frequently invites us to reconstrue our understanding of the world, and to make sense of it differently than we had before.

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In many respects, Catholics and Mormons have similar views on abortion. In general, both churches are pro-life, although individual Mormons are probably more likely than Catholics, at least in the U.S., to be pro-life. Plus a larger number of U.S. Catholics are more likely to emphasize (Democratic) legislation and interventions to reduce abortion, rather than (merely) emphasize (with Republicans) repealing Roe v. Wade. So, on average, it is probably safe to say that individual Mormons are more conservative than Catholics on the abortion question.

However, in terms of their institutional positions, it is the other way around–the LDS church is more liberal.

These differences are relevant in light of the Catholic church’s recent automatic excommunications of the family and doctor of a nine-year-old Brazilian girl who received an abortion. The pregnancy (twins) was a result of rape from the girl’s father (the girl is not subject to automatic excommunicated because of her age). Two weeks after the decision (March 2009), the archbishop Jose Cardoso Sobrinho (who made the ruling) stepped down, prompting some to wonder whether the Vatican disagreed. Time Magazine (above link) reports, however, that a recent Vatican publication “unequivocally confirmed automatic excommunication for anyone involved in an abortion — even in such a situation as dire as the Brazilian case.”

In contrast, the official position of the LDS church is that “exceptional circumstances may justify an abortion, such as when pregnancy is the result of incest or rape, when the life or health of the mother is judged by competent medical authority to be in serious jeopardy, or when the fetus is known by competent medical authority to have severe defects that will not allow the baby to survive beyond birth.” These circumstances do not automatically justify abortion, as “those who face such circumstances should consider abortion only after consulting with their local Church leaders and receiving a confirmation through earnest prayer.”

Certainly, the 9-year old scenario (quite possibly fitting all four “exceptional circumstances”) would almost certainly receive an exception if it was wanted by the girl and/or her family. I imagine that in almost any case like this, local leaders would advocate for an immediate abortion as the most humane response. Moreover, no one would be “automatically excommunicated.” In fact, no one in the LDS church is “automatically” excommunicated for any reason, but only as a result of a church trial in which the persons in question, along with witnesses, are able to defend themselves.

Now, I don’t mean to “dog” the Catholic church. I deeply respect the church in terms of so many things that it does, including its general pro-life position on abortion. However, I do wish to affirm my belief that Latter-day Saints are (rightfully) more flexible and humane in these matters. The LDS church does not believe that human life must be saved in every single circumstance, no matter how dire. There simply are other issues that cannot be ignored, such as the respect for a woman’s right to choose whether to have intercourse, coupled with the crippling trauma of being forced to carry your rapist’s child.

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My five-year-old daughter came home from Primary one Sunday and told us all about her lesson the Word of Wisdom. Her teachers had creatively made pictures of things that were “bad” so the children could throw them away. They threw away images of cigarettes, alcohol, tea, and coffee – all the things that are restricted based on D&C 89 and other, later admonition from the prophets.

I usually have some grumble about her Primary lessons, as I seem to have about everything else, but I also let it go quickly, as I seem to everything else. But this one must have had quite an impact on my daughter because,  even months after the lesson, she still talks about it. In fact, it has become part of her play – she’ll be joking with her brother and she’ll say something to effect of: “you’re alcohol – I’m going to throw you away!”

I suppose I ought to be a proud papa; at least, I probably should thank her teachers for so thoroughly teaching her WoW principles. Really, it just made me laugh. Well, laugh until I heard her say of someone (within ear shot, as kids always do), “She’s drinking coffee – she’s bad!”

After the embarrassment cleared, the whole story gave me pause for thought. Sure those things are bad for you, but so is high fructose corn syrup – particularly in high quantities. In fact, we eat a lot of stuff that is technically “bad” for us, like potato chips, candy bars, and whatnot – often in excess – that the Word of Wisdom doesn’t mention.

Well, this could turn into another tirade on how we focus too much attention on some things (e.g., alcohol in the WoW) and too little on other things (e.g., meat in times of famine). But instead, another thought came to me.

What if the main reason God asks us not to drink coffee or smoke cigarettes has less to do with what is “good” or “bad”, and more to do with setting us apart from the world? What do you think?

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A friend of mine is piloting a survey about political reasoning. I encourage you to take it. It only takes a few minutes and I think you’ll find it to be interesting (much better than all those lame Facebook quizzes).

Click here to take the survey.

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There is currently a petition to the First Presidency to apologize on behalf of the Church for “official statements, rhetoric, policy and practice” that “have been injurious to gays and lesbians and their families and friends.”

First, I should say that in many ways I respect this petition. There clearly is a self-conscious attempt to address reconciliation without demanding the Church change its moral position on homosexuality or its political position on gay marriage. There has been a genuine effort, I think, to actually try to make inroads with the Church. I especially like the line, “We believe that people of good will may have differing views about homosexuality, while maintaining amicable relationships.” Yes–let’s hope this is true.

There is a problem, however. Although the petition begins with some very nice stuff about the need for reconciliation from “parties on both sides,” its subject is only about the need for reconciliation on ONE side: the Church. This doesn’t exactly strike me as “seek[ing] to create a climate for reconciliation.” Seems to me to be more like a climate of accusation. At least it could easily be seen that way.

So I have some honest questions for the petitioners. Do you really think there is a need for apology from your own side? If yes, what? And why haven’t you discussed that in the petition? Why not take a first step and offer whatever these apologies might be?

If “no,” then the petition seems to be a bit manipulative. Like one’s spouse saying “we need to…” when what he/she really means is “you need to…”

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I’m not usually a literalist about the scriptures, but I’m a little baffled by a verse I read today and the Doctrine and Covenants, Section 137. This section is the account of a vision Joseph Smith had of the celestial kingdom. He names Adam and Abraham, as well as his parents, as inhabitants, likely those who were saved “by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.“

And then he mentions his brother, Alvin. Joseph “marvels” that his brother Alvin is there, “seeing that he had departed this life before the Lord had set his hand to gather Israel the second time, and had not been baptized for the remission of sins.” And then the great revelation that “All who have died without a knowledge of this gospel, who would have received it if they had been permitted to tarry, shall be heirs of the celestial kingdom of God.” Of course, this revelation plays a big part in understanding why we do work for the dead in our temples…right?

Here’s my question: What was Alvin doing there in the celestial kingdom when his work hadn’t been done yet?

Okay, so that’s just one question among many questions that I could ask about this scripture: Has he already been resurrected? Is that a requirement of being the celestial kingdom? Why have I been taught that people are waiting for their chance to “accept the gospel” when it looks like doing so doesn’t necessitate our doing their work vicariously? Are the ordinances not really a requirement to get there? If not, will Alvin and people like them want them anyway?.

In the end, I think what I’m really asking is this: If I take this section literally – and Alvin Smith was actually in the celestial kingdom – then once I have received all my living ordinances, what am I doing when I go back to the temple?

Today, the California Supreme Court upheld Prop 8 while leaving previous same-sex marriages intact.

My question is: What difference will the Court decision have on criticism of Mormons?

I’m not in California and I’ve yet to read anything pertaining much to this.

On one hand, I can see the decision rekindling the somewhat-cooled flame of gay activism (in comparison to November, anyway), and as a result we will see more criticism of Mormons and the Church. On the other hand, perhaps the decision will redirect anger at the state of California and the Court. Perhaps both.

At any rate, I think it’s irrational to blame Prop 8 voters for the perceived unconstitutionality of the measure. One might believe that Prop 8 was fueled by hate and intolerance (see this post for a rebuttal of that view), but it’s a very different thing to say that the supporters themselves are being unconstitutional. Seems the Court (and by extension, the State of California) is the proper target for that criticism.

Note: I am not going to tolerate, in any degree, disparaging comments made about Mormons or gays and lesbians. I wish to discuss an important issue, not open a name-calling session. Unproductive and/or disparaging comments will be promptly deleted.

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Imagine inviting all of your friends over for your birthday party.

And by friends, I mean just about everyone you knew in high school, your college friends, people from your ward(s), people from work, relatives, ex-boyfriends/girlfriends. In other words, this is a BIG party.

Imagine, furthermore, that everyone is interested in what you say and what you do. It’s your party after all. You can’t simply have a hundred private conversations.

This is a dilemma. You likely have very different ways of interacting with your very different friends. You’d say some things to certain friends that you wouldn’t be caught dead saying to others. Around some friends, you’re more expressive; around others, more reserved. With some you’ll chat about politics or religion  (in fact that seems to be all you do), but with others this is out of bounds. And imagine all of the people that you hope don’t talk to each other.

This, of course, is a hypothetical situation, but it probably rings true to most people on a smaller scale. We might think we know someone, but then we see them around a different crowd of people and we’re surprised. Sometimes disappointed.

Enter Facebook. And now the situation is not so hypothetical. Well, what do you say? You might think you’re awful clever with that last status update, but some of your friends are certainly thinking, “Wow, Sue’s a little different than I thought.” You might think, “Well, this is the way I am, and if somebody doesn’t like it, then that’s their problem.” But this is an awfully anti-relational way to be. Surely even the most individualist people among us act differently with different people.

So, what does all of this mean in terms of being Mormon on Facebook? Certainly, we can do things like say what our religion is, and we can also say we’re a fan of this or that. But in terms of things like status updates, shared links, etc., it is difficult sometimes. I’d like to post links to posts from this blog, for example, but the reality is that many of my friends are not LDS and this site would be weird for them. There’s a world that I share here that, frankly, I don’t wish to share with everyone. So I keep it quiet and I don’t even include my blog at all on Facebook.

Another issue: Many of my friends are “fans” with Thomas S. Monson, the Church, even Jesus Christ. But this strikes me as odd. It seems to equate my religious beliefs with my media preferences. I would wonder what my LDS and non-LDS friends would think.

Anyway, what are your thoughts? How do you “be Mormon” on Facebook and yet also respect the differences of all of your many “friends”? I really hope this can turn into a good discussion and perhaps help to revive this (sorry) somewhat dead blog.

UPDATE May 19: Be sure to look at my comment, about ten comments down, for a clarification of what I’m trying to explore with this post.

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Some sacrament meeting talks are more meaningful, insightful, and applicable than others. Certainly natural ability comes into play, but one of the biggest problems, from my experience, is that most speakers follow a “same old” generic pattern. There is nothing inspired or authoritative for this pattern, and in fact in many cases it can dull or deaden what could otherwise be enriching and inspiring sacrament meetings.

I don’t mean to belittle anyone’s efforts, faith, or testimony. Rather, I bring good news. It’s not hard, if one is willing, to raise the standard of sacrament meeting talks. It requires (a) recognizing the “same old” pattern as simply one way of giving a talk (and probably not the best way) and (b) being willing to try something new. I think you’ll like it.

So, I will first describe the “same old” pattern and then describe what is, in my opinion, “a more excellent way” of giving sacrament meeting talks. I hope that some of my tips can be worthwhile for all Latter-day Saints, however refined their talk-giving abilities may be.

THE “SAME OLD” PATTERN

When people use the “same old” pattern for talking, they probably don’t think, “Hey, I think I’ll use that ’same old’ pattern that everyone else uses.” Rather, it is probably commonly thought that this pattern is simply THE way of giving a talk.

These “same old” talks often begin with an unnecessarily elaborate introduction. Such introductions might involve (a) discussing how and when the bishop  asked you to give the talk, (b) giving some kind of joke, often unrelated to the topic, (c) providing a disclaimer about how you don’t really want to give a talk, or at least not a very long one, or (d) some or all of the above.

These introductions are not simply unnecessary because they waste time. Time filling is a very minor problem here. The major problem, from my estimation, is that these kinds of introductions set the talk up to be mundane or trivial, as well as perpetuate the myth that this is the way sacrament meeting talks must or ought to be. In this way, the “same old” speaker gives a silent disclaimer:

Don’t expect anything great from this talk. In fact, because this talk is mediocre, I’m going to attract undue attention to myself and to a bland pattern of talk giving. By doing so, I will perpetuate the myth that sacrament meeting talks are simply something that we have to do and that have little practical value, at least beyond the things that I might have learned in preparing and giving the talk. You laugh or smile at these efforts not because they are funny or enlightening, but rather because you sympathize with me in my tedious chore of talk giving.

Once a person has given this necessary disclaimer, she can proceed to introduce the topic. This is usually done in a very generic way (e.g., “my talk is on faith”). In this way, one can send the message to the congregation that one is giving a standard repetitive talk.

If a person wants to accentuate this generic message, this can be done by providing a dictionary definition. The speaker knows that the congregation does not need this definition, and he’s not planning on drawing on it in any particular way, but none of this matters for the “same old” pattern. All that matters is to not introduce the topic in a meaningful, applicable, or inspiring way.

From this point, the “same old” pattern might take a variety of turns, some of which are better than others, but in general adheres to at least one of the following guidelines:

1. An excessive amount of long general authority quotes.

2. Use of published inspirational stories (often without much attribution) or, alternatively, an unnecessarily long description of a personal story.

3. Simple recipes for acquiring blessings (do x, get y), often in conjunction with worn-out non-scriptural platitudes that either have no explicit relationship to the Savior  (“say your prayers, read your scriptures, go to church”) or imply that He is an instrumental blessing machine (“take advantage of the Atonement”).

4. The use of various scriptural passages, but without context, exploration, or elaboration. Such passages are often used for the purpose of supporting a blessing recipe or generic platitude (#3).

5. Subtle political commentary.

6. A brief standard testimony, of various levels of sincerity and always reserved for the end, followed by a possible violation of the third commandment (see my future post).

Now, please understand that I’m giving a caricature here. I’ve heard many wonderful sacrament meeting talks and even in talks that are perhaps not so wonderful I’ve been uplifted and inspired. Still, I think that far too many of us do some of these things simply because we’ve learned some mediocre habits about what giving a talk should be. I’m sensitive also to the fact that giving sacrament meeting talks is not easy for many people. That’s why this post brings such good news — the “more excellent” talk is actually often easier to prepare, and much more satisfying.

A MORE EXCELLENT WAY

In contrast to the “same old” pattern talks, excellent sacrament meeting talks have a purpose of strengthening, enlightening, and inspiring the congregation. Speakers don’t have to be especially talented or experienced — they have a variety of experiences, public speaking skill, and experience in the church. But what they have in common is that they know their audience somewhat well and they speak sincerely from their hearts. There’s no need for gimmicks (jokes, apologies) or formalizations (definitions) — although there’s nothing inherently wrong with perhaps telling a joke or giving a definition.

These speakers also recognize that they are not simply giving a talk “on faith” (whatever topic they were assigned). Rather, they are talking about faith in a personal and inspiring way, and in a way that might be most relevant for the congregation right here and right now. There’s no formula for this kind of talk, but here are a few things I’ve noticed, in contrast with “same old” talks:

1. These speakers stick closely to the standard works and use the scriptures well. This doesn’t mean they have to be a scriptorian, it simply means they’re willing to turn to the stories and lessons of the scriptures first and foremost, and see general authority quotes as supplementary. When general authority quotes are used, they are more likely to be recent ones (perhaps from the last General Conference).

2. These speakers almost always avoid published inspirational stories. If stories are told, they are almost always their stories (either about them or people close to them). In this way, they portray the gospel in the real world, not the canned sensational one. However, these speakers also recognize the need to avoid lengthy travelogues. They tell the part of the story that is relevant and then move on.

3. They are sensitive to the struggles and needs of others, and for this reason avoid making the gospel too formulaic. They think twice before saying things like “Being happy is a simple choice” or “If you pay your tithing, the Lord will bless you financially.” If they do want to say things along these lines, they might instead portray their own story — how they chose to be happy in the midst of affliction, rather than offering canned platitudes that perhaps hurt as many people as they help.

4. Along the lines of #3, these speakers recognize that living the gospel is more complicated than “reading your scriptures, saying your prayers, and going to church.” Rather, the gospel is about coming to Christ — and He plays a central role in these talks (whether explicit or implicit).These speakers wisely recognize that people come to church not to learn a few facts or be reminded of some vague platitudes, rather they come to church to worship Christ and to seek healing through Him.

5. These speakers recognize that the gospel is not synonymous with a particular political platform or to American democracy, and they are also aware of sensitive familial, gender, racial, international and other circumstances.

6. Finally, these speakers bear their testimony whenever prompted by the Holy Ghost — whether this is planned or extemporaneous. Testimonies are not simply saved for the end. Indeed, the line between “talk” and “testimony” is blurred in many of the best talks.

Well, I hope these suggestions might be helpful for a few people. Please recognize that this post is simply my opinion. I also understand that we need to be concerned about how we receive the talks of others. Here I’m simply focusing on the giving of talks. I would love to hear what others have to say.

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I believe that one of the common problems of our modern era is that our relationships with our bodies have become abstracted.  This abstracted relationship manifests itself in a lot of ways, but I’d like to focus in on our modern concept of physical fitness.  I’m implicating fitness as an abstracted relationship because we talk about fitness without much discussion of what exactly our bodies should be fit for.

As far as I can see, the implied answers to these questions are  rather unsatisfying.  Fit to inspire envy.  Fit to turn heads.  Fit to be admired, liked, loved.  Perhaps secondarily we hear in the chatter around fitness some answers along the lines of fit to keep living, fit to live longer, or fit to feel good.  Whatever degree of merit these answers deserve, I submit that they all likely fall short of better answers that we might come up with.

I think that the question of fitness has to point to whether or not we are using our bodies in useful ways.  I am certain that we are all using our bodies in some useful ways, but probably not always in ways that would inspire the label of “physically fit.”  For most of us, the most strenuous activities of our week involve moving around for the sake of moving around, or, perhaps with a bit more purpose, moving around for recreation.  It is much less common to move around to get somewhere or to do work that helps us and others to live well.  And so we have behemoth gyms that are pumped with cooled air and filled with machines so that people can move around without going anywhere.  I can’t help but think that such a scene would be a real puzzler for those pioneer children who sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked (and walked).

My point is not that gyms are bad or that exercise needs to be productive.  My point is that it is odd that we use the term “fitness” to describe a goal without really identifying what a physically fit body is fit to do.  I don’t have a good answer for the fitness question.  I’m not even sure that fitness for any purpose should be the highest virtue toward which we should strive in our relationships with our bodies.  But I do think that grappling with this question and not taking fitness for granted might help us to be less abstracted in the ways we approach our bodies.

Now, I haven’t looked at the scriptures with this specific question in mind.  Maybe some of you have some light to shed in this regard.  However, the one scripture-like line that has kept coming to my mind is from the hymn “More Holiness Give Me,” in which the supplicant pleads to become “more fit for the kingdom.”  I’m fairly confident that fitness for the kingdom goes well beyond any kind of physical fitness, but perhaps it does not exclude a sort of stewardship that we have for our bodies.  It leaves me wondering how I might be physically fit for the kingdom.  How might the way I use my body make me fit to love and serve others?  How might it make me fit to enter the celestial kingdom?  Like I said before, I don’t have many answers here, but I like the questions.

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Just a few thoughts from my reading the accounts of the resurrected Christ to his followers.

In three visitations, Christ was not recognized at first: (a) the visitation to Mary at the empty tomb, (b) the extended journey with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, (c) and the appearance on the shore while Peter and the disciples were fishing.

I think it can be profitable to point out what happened before His followers recognized Him. For Mary, it was after he called her by name. For the two disciples, it was when he blessed and broke bread. For the fisherman, it was after they, following His instructions, pulled in their net overflowing with fish.

Perhaps these stories can be analogous to our lives, in terms of recognizing the Savior’s presence and influence. When we feel that Christ knows us personally and calls us by name; when we partake of the sacrament and renew covenants with God in His name; and when, following His instructions, we are successful beyond our wildest dreams in building His Kingdom — in these circumstances, we see Christ for who He really is.

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We had another great General Conference! Some of the dominant themes were faith and endurance amidst trials, temple worship, and unselfish service. Here are some highlights, with some of my own thoughts (and at least one soap box.)

Saturday Morning:

• Elder Hales gave excellent advice about budgeting. We need to say more often, either “We can’t afford it, even though we want it,” or “We can afford it, but we really don’t need it.” I liked the example he gave about wanting to give his wife a nice coat for their anniversary but she didn’t like the idea. “Where would I wear it?” she asked, concerned for what it would mean to some poorer sisters in the ward. I think that there might be some good that comes from the recent economic crisis, in that it may shake us out of our sense of entitlement and our feeling like we need everything under the sun.
• Elder Eyring spoke about handling adversity. “We must be transformed through making righteous choices where that is hard to do.”

Saturday Afternoon:

• Elder Ballard talked about learning from the past mistakes of others, particularly the pride that comes from forgetting God. “Some of life’s most meaningful teachings come from those who have gone before you,” he said. I like this approach because I think that one of the major reasons for the recent economic crisis is because we as a people are disconnected from the wisdom of those who have gone before. We don’t want to listen to our parents and grandparents who would tell us that money doesn’t grow on trees.
• Elder Cook gave a very interesting talk. I don’t remember now everything he talked about, but I appreciated his remarks on the Latter-day Saint view of salvation and how it compares with the other Christian notions of the day in which the majority of the world would be consigned to eternal hell-fire. I wonder how much we as a church do not emphasize enough the near-universal salvation in our theology. I think we too often see anything but the Celestial Kingdom as hell, which is not scriptural and I think is rooted perhaps in an unrighteous desire to continue to have a heaven/hell dichotomy. Although we should definitely strive at eternal life in the Celestial Kingdom, let us not let this keep us from rejoicing at the power and mercy of Jesus Christ, who redeems all the work of His hands! This is good news!
• Elder Scott gave a nice talk on temple worship. He counseled us to understand the doctrine related to temple ordinances, especially the Atonement of Jesus Christ, our relationship to Christ, and Christ’s relationship to the Father. I like what he said about removing your watch in the temple. I’ve been thinking lately about how the temple is a sacred space that operates by “higher time,” so to speak. When we worship in the temple, we transcend this world and enter into a higher realm. In doing so, we leave behind trivial cares of the world.

Priesthood Session

• I was struck by Bishop Edgley’s talk. He talked about the need for quorums, especially in the months and years ahead, to do more in terms of helping unemployed members. He said that probably every quorum in the Church, regardless of professional experience, likely has the experience, skills, and insights that are necessary in this regard. (I was reminded that I should tell my bishop about my resume writing skills.)
• President Uchtdorf joked about how he was looking for a story to tell, and he thought of farming stories, stories about animals, nuclear physics stories (in honor of Elder Scott), and pigeon stories (in honor of President Hinckley), but the story he ended up with is — you guessed it — aviation. He talked about an airplane that crashed at night in the Florida Everglades as a result of the pilots’ preoccupation with a warning light that didn’t turn on — when the only problem, it turned out, was that the bulb was burned out. He used this story to warn us against distractions, counseling us to be more like Nehemiah: “I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down [to engage in petty matters].” What could be accomplished if we were all like Nehemiah? President Uchtdorf asked. I’ve thought about this lately in terms of the Internet. Lately I have spent much less time on the Internet and I am very grateful. I am worried about many of my friends. Internet addiction is a real problem, people! Perhaps some people even reading this post should be doing more important things. If this is you, then stop reading now. Get on with your life. Do you really need to check your email as many times as you do? Do you really need to update your Facebook status 12 times a day? Surely there are better things to do! Is it possible that Internet distractions keep the still, small voice from penetrating into our hearts? (I really don’t mean to offend here — but this is something that I personally have struggled with, and am recuperating from, and I hate to see others get sucked into mindless Internet addiction. Soap box over.)

Sunday Morning:

• I just really like President Uchtdorf’s talks. I especially like when he moves from a quiet to a really loud voice, especially considering his accent. In this talk he spoke of the problem with “spectator discipleship.” It’s one thing to know the gospel in theory, it’s quite another to practice it. An important reminder for people like me.
• I don’t remember much from the talk of newly-called apostle Elder Neil Andersen. I will say though that I like Elder Andersen a lot. I appreciated it when he visited my mission several years ago, and I also really liked the devotional he gave at BYU a few years back. He spoke of the problems with liberal individualism (a problem that many Church members buy into).
• Elder Holland gave a wonderful talk on the Savior’s atoning sacrifice. I won’t do it justice with any commentary.
• President Monson counseled not to focus on the problems of the world, but on the blessings of the gospel. He reminded us of past Saints who have faced tremendous challenges and who have prevailed in Christ. As usual, nice stories. The closing hymn of this session was fitting: “When dark clouds of trouble hang o’er us and threaten our peace to destroy, there is hope smiling brightly before us and we know that deliverance is nigh.”

Sunday Afternoon

• What an awesome talk by Elder Oaks! He spoke of selfless service, especially through temple service and raising children. He spoke of temple work having no other motive than love and service for our fellow men, both living and dead. He also said that the gap between those who are willing to have children and those who are not is widening. I think this is very scary, for reasons beyond the need for spirits to come to earth. When married people are able but not willing to have children, they voluntarily cut themselves off from the “circle of life,” so to speak. By being disconnected in this way, people lose the lessons of the past (hearkening back to Elder Hales’ and Elder Ballard’s talks). Elder Oaks said further that we cannot walk, talk, or do as other men, in terms of “every trendy action.” (Perhaps this is an interesting way to talk about our not drinking coffee.) He castigated the “me generation”–our generation with its sense of entitlement, its consumerism, its “something for nothing” mentality. Finally, he talked about our need to have more selfless attitudes in regard to our church attendance. We should stop thinking about what “I” should get out of Church, and to think rather in terms of how we can serve.
• I really like Elder Bednar’s talks, and this talk on temple worship was no exception. Bednar says that we take upon ourselves the name of Christ in a more full and complete way when we make covenants in the temple. There is a difference between those members who faithfully and consistently worship in the temple, versus those who do not or those who go haphazardly and hurriedly.
• Elder Gary E. Stevenson’s talk went along nicely with Elder Bednar’s. He spoke of the “righteous unity between the temple and the home.”
• President Monson closed the conference with a warning against adversity (especially through the Internet and pornography) and requested that we remember him and all the general authorities in our prayers.

I love to ponder, learn, share, and discuss.  I love when people challenge my beliefs in a way that stretches me to seek more deeply for understanding and helps me gain a greater vision of the possibilities and the truth.

I have always been this way and I know it is part of why I discovered the gospel of Jesus Christ and joined His Church.  If I did not desire truth and was not willing to change my mind about things, even things I deeply clung to, I would not be a member of the Church and I would not have the life I live today.

So, I appreciate when people share ideas and challenge each others’ understanding.  I think it is so valuable and so important.  I believe it to be necessary to truly become a Zion people.

Yet, there are some dangers that we need to keep in mind and be aware of:

1.  In looking at things intellectually we can sometimes lose the power of the simple, profound truths.

2.  In critically examining our own lives and ideas we can easily stray to criticizing and condemning others.

3.  This can lead to our own brand of self-righteousness.

4.  When we typify members of the Church in our thought and speech we are creating “-ites.”  As we exalt the -ites we identify ourselves with and put down the -ites we consider “others,” we are building walls that separate us from one another and greatly diminish our power to influence each other for good.

I have seen this happen to me.  I come from a very different world than many of my peers here in this Provo/BYU world.  As a convert I have a different culture than the norm deeply ingrained in me.  I treasure the perspective I have because of my variety of experience in culture and crowd.  I am proud of where I come from and who I am–as I would hope we would all feel.

I transferred from UC Berkeley to BYU while I was on my mission.  (I had joined the Church after my first year at Cal. ) Talk about the CULTURE SHOCK of a lifetime.  Even greater than from California to Portugal perhaps because I wasn’t so prepared for the differences.

I will write later about some of my experiences and the struggles I had and still have with the adjustment from regular person to Mormon and Northern California to Utah.  My worlds clashed and it’s still hard to figure out who I really am sometimes.

But what I want to share right now is that I have seen my tendency to judge and criticize a culture that is foreign to me.  I was enchanted by the differences in culture I experienced when I lived in South America and also in Portugal on my mission.  I treasured the people I met for who they were and rejoiced in the variety of God’s children.

Then I came to Utah to go to BYU.  I had the expectations of a convert of only a few years and of a very newly returned missionary.  My idealistic assumptions didn’t take long to come crashing down upon me.  It hurt.  It was disappointing.  It was confusing.  Probably mostly because I just wasn’t prepared for it and it caught me off guard.

I felt alone and different and wondered often who I really was.  In my insecurity and confusion I learned to condemn that which I wasn’t used to.  I handled the disillusionment by judging and criticizing a culture that was different from my own.  I created -ites in my mind and looked somewhat hopelessly to find my own -ites in this new world.

My point for now: Can we find a way to look at ourselves closely and honestly and yet not create -ites and not become self-righteous, even in our disdain for those we consider self-righteous?  Is there a way to humbly approach the truth without mocking each other?

Can we look at things and think carefully and critically and yet not stray from the simple gospel truths that bring joy and are a foundation for all truth?  Can we develop our intellect and yet keep our hearts involved in our search for truth?

Can we be confident in that which we have learned and yet still always feel and know that God knows more and trust Him wholeheartedly, even when we don’t understand?

Can we strive to understand and yet lean not unto our own understanding?

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Things are quiet on the blog lately, so I figure it’s a good chance to make an appearance. Perhaps few people will read this entry and then I can likely avoid being blacklisted.

I applied to teach at Messiah College in Pennsylvania recently and part of the application was affirming the Apostles’ Creed. I affirmed the Apostles’ Creed, and I did so because I agreed with all the statements that were made within the creed. However, after having done so, I couldn’t help but recall the words of Joseph Smith when discussing his First Vision: “the Personage who addressed me said that all their creeds were an abomination in his sight” (JS-H 1:19).

This of course made me a little uncomfortable with my decision to affirm the Apostles’ Creed. I could affirm that I believed every statement within the creed (even the statement “I believe in the holy catholic church”) with good conscience, so why should I be uncomfortable?

This experience brought me back to another problem I have been struggling with recently: the idea of the Trinity. I probably know little about the idea of the Trinitarian God, but what I know about it, I kind of like. But I’ve been taught since youth that we (Mormons) don’t believe in that God. In fact, that’s why we aren’t Christian, according to other Christians. But I kind of believe in the Trinitarian notion, even though I also believe that God and Christ each have a body. In fact, I think Mormons have a lot to learn from the Trinitarian notion of God – knowledge we’ve sorely lacked because we have “affirmed” the opposite for many years.

Today I came across a Joseph Smith quote that helped assuage my conscience and helped me re-reconcile myself with my Mormon faith. He said:

The most prominent difference in sentiment between the Latter-day Saints and sectarians was, that the latter were all circumscribed by some peculiar creed, which deprived its members the privilege of believing anything not contained therein, whereas the Latter-day Saints have no creed, but are ready to believe all true principles that exist, as they are made manifest from time to time.

The way I read Joseph Smith in this quote and the above is that creeds are an abomination not because they are incorrect, but because they limit our view of the Truth, and that’s never a good thing. So it may be (may be) that I am right to believe everything contained in the creed because it could all be true. I just need to be willing to “affirm” that other things might also be true not contained within the creed. And that’s easy, because I do.

So I’m back to being comfortable with my decision to affirm the Apostles’ Creed, but in the future I ought to indicate that, in doing so, I reserve the right to also believe other things not contained in the creed. I don’t think I’ll be telling that to Messiah College, though – they didn’t want to hire me anyway.

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“Can you be a good Mormon and want to be a millionaire?”

This question, or something very much like it, was posed in my Sunday School class last week. I think the very question says something interesting about the asker, but since my short answer (“No”) would not have gone over terribly well, and my longer and more justified answer would’ve taken over the lesson, I thought a blog entry might be a good place to explore the issue.

In looking at all the topical guide references to “riches,” I can’t find a single one that talks about earthly wealth in a positive way. Some may be considered neutral, such as (1 Kgs. 10: 23 , 2 Chr. 9: 22) “Solomon exceeded all . . . for riches,” and so forth. But the vast majority seem pretty pejorative.

What’s the big deal?

The scripture about not serving two masters (Luke 16: 9, 11, 13) is particularly potent. Mammon of course literally means “riches” of the earthly, temporal kind. The story of the rich young, would be disciple (Luke 18: 22-27) re-emphasizes the point.* Earthly riches and the kingdom of God just can’t seem to go together; they’re like repelling magnetic poles.

The greatest contempt in the scriptures is the love, desire, and seeking for riches. Powerful passages include: D&C 56: 16 (those who don’t give to the poor will say “my soul is not saved.”), D&C 68: 31 (the Lord condemns greed), D&C 6: 7 (don’t seek them, eternal riches are more important anyway), 3 Ne. 6: 12, 15 (seeking wealth is the cause of their great iniquity), Alma 7: 6 (setting hearts upon riches equates with idolatry), Mosiah 12: 29 (riches equated with whoredoms), Jacob 2 (very abominable sin is seeking riches and pridefully keeping them).

In fairness to my Sunday School class, the members were pretty good about emphasizing this point – that “The love of money is the root of all evil” (emphasis added, generally by those seeking to justify wealth). We’re generally good about understanding we shouldn’t seek it – certainly not with pride or to have more than someone else – but is there still a way to be good and be rich? Maybe our question is “Can I be a millionaire and a good Latter-day Saint?”

Is it OK to have money?

Gordon B. Hinckley shared this Brigham Young Quote:

Brigham Young went on to say on that occasion:

It is our duty to preach the gospel, gather Israel, pay our tithing, and build temples. The worst fear that I have about this people is that they will get rich in this country, forget God and his people, wax fat, and kick themselves out of the Church and go to hell. This people will stand mobbing, robbing, poverty and all manner of persecution, and be true. It my greater fear for them is that they cannot stand wealth; and yet they have to be tried with riches, for they will become the richest people on this earth. [Nibley, Brigham Young, p. 128]

To which I can hear many of you say, “Hasten the day.” Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled – Gordon B. Hinckley

It seems that whether we like it or not, whether or not it is “OK,” the saints are going to have money. So given that we have it, but that desiring it (saying “Hasten the day” or with Tevye, “May the Lord smite me with [this curse]”) is bad, what should we do?

“Surely, you’re not suggesting I give everything I own away?” This seems to be the natural question asked incredulously when ever someone mentions taking the scriptures on riches seriously (i.e. Jacob and King Benjamin’s sermons in addition to the New Testament passages). I think that the story of the rich young would-be disciple is instructive. He didn’t ask that question; he knew the answer, he just didn’t like it. After telling us that we have no excuse to deny the beggar (especially if we blame the victim), King Benjamin counsels us to do all things in “wisdom and order.” While this is a wise balancing point, I have never met a Latter-day Saint who was ever at risk for giving too much of their money to the poor. King Benjamin’s remarks lead me think that it is theoretically possible, but in my practical experience, I have never witnessed it.

In that vein, I am suggesting that we give away every material possession. I suggest that we give it to the Lord and put our trust in Him to take care of us as He promised. While there is no earthly institution authorized to receive this consecration, that does not obviate our responsibility to live that law. We can consecrate all our earthly possessions and even our selves, now, to God and then act as faithful stewards in dispensing them as He sees fit. Does He want us to give a double fast offering? He’ll let us know (maybe He has). Does He want me to spend enough money to feed several families on college tuition? In my case, yes. Does He want us to buy a million-dollar home? I’d be surprised, but I’m not going to tell God what He can and can’t do with His money. But the point is that it is His. Consecration is simply acknowledging that and being honest with His stuff. If I want to be a good Latter-day Saint, I can’t be a millionaire – God’s the millionaire. But if I’m the steward, I better use it as He would have me use it.

* Handy Nibley refrence on the “Eye of a Needle” not being a Jerusalem gate:

The disciples marveled greatly at this, for they had never heard of that convenient postern gate, invented by an obliging nineteenth-century minister for the comfort of his well-heeled congregation—the ancient sources knew nothing of that gate, and neither did the baffled apostles. That is another “para-scripture.”  (Approaching Zion, Deseret Book, p. 168-170)

and a lighter reference: http://snltranscripts.jt.org/96/96cheyward.phtml

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I received the following report in an email newsletter from my friend Don Jarvis (quoted with his permission):

A senior LDS apostle recently told Provoans that “We need to pray for our new president, regardless of party affliction, I mean, affiliation.”  Speaking on January 25^th in the Provo Tabernacle at the conclusion of an Oak Hills (east Provo) Stake Conference, Apostle M. Russell Ballard spoke warmly of the inauguration, read excerpts from President Obama’s inaugural address, advised members to read it, and said, “I like his emphasis on personal responsibility.”  The audience chuckled at the “affliction” slip, but was otherwise unusually hushed and attentive as Elder Ballard voiced his strong support for our the new Democratic President.  

Afterwards, I thanked Elder Ballard for his positive report and noted its difference from the angry criticism broadcast daily by KSL’s afternoon talk radio.  Elder Ballard simply answered, “Well, he’s our president and we need to support him.” 

A front page article in the Deseret News of 22 January quoted Elder Ballard as saying, “I left with a feeling that the people of America are going to unite behind this new president and his administration and that we need to pray for him,” … “We need to exercise our prayers and help him accomplish the great objectives that he has set.”

However Latter-day Saints feel about President Obama, I hope that we can take Elder Ballard’s counsel seriously. Moreover, I hope that we can follow the example of the Brethren in the civil and respectful way they speak about him and this new administration. In general, I actually have been quite pleased with my fellow Latter-day Saints in this regard.

Don added,

Last year several of us Utah County Democratic candidates met with three different LDS general authorities. They all reaffirmed the Church’s basic neutrality, advised us to list our Church experience in campaign literature, ridiculed the notion that good Mormons could not be Democrats, and expressed a wish for better balance in Utah politics.

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