To Express the Self... for Selflessness

I've long felt the truth of the concept of repression as it exists in modern society. That is; those things that we consciously and unconsciously repress, will surface again in our lives, often in the form of anxiety, defensiveness, and blindness to our own natures and otherwise simple solutions to our problems. Connected to this, I believe that it's a mistake to simplistically suppose that denying the self of the things that we need is the way to enlightenment. One thing that I love about Mormonism is the belief, from Joseph Smith, that a healthy and happy person is best prepared to build a healthy and happy family and society. 

So, to take (possibly) a jump from there: is there a genuine cause for us to consider our 'need' for self-expression, apart from ideas of 'selfishness'? Could it be that our self-expression is a really important part of avoiding the repressions and neuroses that cause selfishness? I think so.

Practically, I frequently feel a desire to increase the transparency of the 'self' that I perform on a daily basis. Especially in the case of the Church environment, I frequently hold back from sharing my scepticism and questions with those around me. In fact, it's got to the stage where I feel positively suffocated just at the thought of having to sit through three hours of Church, with only my overbearing skepticism, and no outlet other than whispered comments to my wife - who thankfully, I am able to share my true feelings with.

Can I feel the relief that comes from liberation, by deciding to unabashedly and uncompromisingly share my self; unglossed and straight-up? Can I change to become one of those 'refreshingly honest' people, and find personal peace as a result of that change? Or are those perceived benefits less than the importance of discernment, and the strengths of not 'giving too much away', and burning bridges in that process? As I rid myself of the repression of my skepticism, and act on my desires for self-expression, will I be able to move on to the more important things of life... move on to focussing on honest and full interactions with those I love?

The Wisdom of Silence, or the Enthusiasm of Shouting on the Rooftops? Which is more desireable - and are they mutually exclusive when it comes to expressing our skepticism in a Church environment?

Lots of questions - but these are important questions, the answers to which will provide the next direction in my life, I feel. 

Taking Responsibility to Define our Personal Reality: Wake-up Call!

In the awesome film (I use the term purposefully!) ‘Waking Life’, the protagonist goes on a lucid dream through many scenes; meeting different people, and sharing ideas about the nature of reality and perception. In an early scene of the film, he meets a professor who speaks about the strength of the Existential emphasis on personal responsibility. Far from being a philosophy of despondency, he claims, Existentialism calls on us to accept ourselves as the sole cause of our own realities, and to take control of that reality, rather than blaming our circumstances on external forces which may or may not be ‘real’.

Having concentrated recently on many of the great thinkers of Postmodernism, I found this argument refreshing. It seems to chime more naturally with my character, to want to claim for myself the responsibility for my own successes and failures. I like the idea of waking up on a morning, and deciding for myself just how successful/happy/satisfying my day is going to be. I’ve found it to be effective, and conversely, I’ve found the denial of this to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Recently I’ve been interested in the powerful possibilities of imagination; of dreaming, to create experiences that are not usually possible in ‘waking life’. Yet, the Existential argument is that we can, to some measure, experience the freedom of the lucid dream every day, inasmuch as we can believe that we are the originators of our realities. From the depths of Postmodernism, it’s possible to feel crushed under the weight of the endless projections of power relations and paradoxical impossibilities of action.  Under the advice of Sartre and the Existentialists, I suggest we become Baudelaire's Modern Man: to define ourselves, and take responsibility for our lives.

The future's exciting, isn't it? It's all up to you.

Living for Ourselves: Experiencing Our Humanity

One of the central ideas that informs the way I think about human behaviour is that there's a dichotomy between two distinct worldviews, in terms of how we think about each other. One worldview is, you might say, an elitist or stratified idea, that I as an individual can live a better life than those around me, by 'opting out' of certain human or cultural behaviours or activities that I see to be damaging. This worldview is often applied by (I believe) those who seek to protect themselves from the natural pains of living, and under this intention it is commonly taught as part of organised religion. For example: a common reason given for teaching chastity is that living this law will help us avoid the heartache and pain that comes from sex outside of stable relationships. Another example might be drugs: authoritarian society teaches that avoiding drug-induced experience will help us avoid the pains, 'downs', anti-social tendencies and dangers that might be associated with drugs. Ok - that's the first worldview.

The other is its opposite - the view that the essential quality of life lies is our experiencing our humanity, and through this, coming to know ourselves and thus, being able to relate to others, in their experiences. This worldview might frequently be adopted by artists, who by 'living fearlessly', gain material and inspiration for their art. Most essentially, this worldview is encapsulated in the essential quality of courage; in experiencing as much of our humanity as we can in this life. You might say that those who live this way are prone to the extremes of human emotion - heights and depths of feeling - and this is precisely the point. 

My mind certainly sees the strength of the second, experiential worldview, and sees the isolation and danger of the first, elitist worldview. The experiential worldview will lead the individual on a path of exploration within the self, and the essential natures that everyone has in common. The elitist worldview is open to massive manipulations - after all, how does one decide which behaviour should be excluded from our experience? In the elitist worldview, we always defer our personal experience and possibility of judgement, handing that agency and judgement to another we deem wiser than ourselves; usually a prophet or leader or some kind.

I believe in a basic equality, at least, of the value of human experience. I don't believe that the leader has any more right to experience and judge the value of human behaviours that the follower. I also believe in the distinctive quality of each human being - there's no 'one size fits all' rule that works in real life. Therefore, only I can judge for myself the best way to live my life. Sure, I'll take all the advice I can get from those before me - but ultimately, I need to experience life, and make informed choices, if I am to be accountable for my actions. If I am to be a human being; a person in my own right, I need to have enough courage every day to live, and make judgements for future behaviours based on the consequences of that experience.

Proposition 8

There's been so much said already about California's Proposition 8 in the last US election (to ban gay marriages) so I won't go into the issues any more than to state my position on the subject. Helen (my wife) and I recently went to see 'Milk', the new film by Gus Van Sant about the gay politician Harvey Milk, who was murdered while serving in government in San Francisco. It was a tragic but beautifully presented story, and I felt more than ever after watching that no-one should feel like their identities need to be kept 'in the closet' in such a damaging and heartbreaking way. 

I felt a sympathy with the characters in that film, because I know what it's like to feel like I can't 'speak' my identity; the core of my being, to those I care about and associate with. I've felt like in my LDS ward community, many of my real opinions, feelings and criticisms have had to stay 'under wraps', because of the intolerance I expect would result from expressing them.

Back to Prop 8 - apart from any sympathies I might have, I believe in the basic equality of rights of human beings, and I don't believe in the necessity for distinction as to the validity of another's marriage, especially outside of the jurisdiction of one's organisation. Why should the LDS church have a concern whether 'non-members' are married in their gay relationships? The church certainly would have preferred some more tolerance in the interpretation of marriage in the 1890s.

Let's try to spread respect and equality to everyone we can. Let's try to be less concerned about the political implications of institutions, and start to care more about the experiences and difficulties of real human beings.

Speaking of which, here are a couple of excellent blogs I found: one by a gay mormon, and another relating to the Prop 8 disaster:

Soy Made Me Gay

Seeking Forgiveness

Getting What They 'Paid For'

I recently watched an interesting clip (don't worry about watching the whole thing if you don't have time - the first 2 minutes 15 seconds are most key to my article) that was blogged over at a fellow LDS Libertarian's site, who correctly identified it as largely 'a bit conspiracy theory[-ist]'. However, the clip opens with the suggestion that Government has the power to 'get what it pays for', and if it doesn't get results from a service or manager, it simply changes that element, until it likes what it gets. To follow the logic, this means that any government institution must be, therefore, producing what the government wants - because if it didn't, it would be quickly replaced. This seems to be especially true of policies and institutions that have consistently produced the same results for a long time. Their survival suggests approval.

Of course, this kind of thinking has all sorts of controvertial implications for the way we view government. Why does schooling not educate in meaningful ways, for example? My thoughts ranged from this secular example, to think of Church organisation. If a Church policy or practise is not yielding the proper results, then surely the brethren would change that policy, or at least acknowledge the need for progress in that area.

I think of certain policies that I have observed to have negative effects, for example, Church hierarchy, and problems of ambition that I see as being encouraged by our current model. Why not take actions to try to minimise this effect? Every time I see a Church leader hero-worshipped, I feel the discomfort of wondering why this practise is perpetuated, to the inevitable damaging effects. Of course, one could argue that there are also many good effects of lauding our leaders, and that we must live with the unfortunate side-effects of our mortal weaknesses, in relation to this. Yet sometimes I wonder why we don't adopt a more 'horizontal' image of Church government, rather than the very 'top-down' approach we have in the current dispensation. Does the Church's perserverence with hierarchy suggest that heaven itself will be administered along strict lines of hierarchical power and subordination? Perhaps. Of course, we'll not be subject to human weaknesses and emotions, there.

I digress, slightly. To return to the central point, I wonder how far we trundle out the old excuse 'well, we live in an imperfect world/Church', when actually, the mission of the Church is to use revelation from God to overcome those imperfections, albeit slowly. I can accept that human behaviour will usually be far from perfect in this life... but if our policies and practises are faulty, then we should surely be eager to improve upon them. After all, true doctrine correctly understood changes behaviour faster than the study of behaviour changes behaviour (good old Elder Packer!). Have we ever observed a policy in the Church that is less than perfect in its execution (or perhaps, in its design)? Have we supposed that, therefore, this policy or practise is simply due to the imperfections of men? In light of these thoughts, perhaps we need to consider whether the policies or practises actually reflect a doctrine that the brethren actually believe is manifest in those practises. Perhaps I need to reconsider my understanding of the Church's reasons for emphasising hierarchy. After all, if it was a faulty principle - it wouldn't be there - right?

(PS - feel free to disagree with me. This, as with many other posts on this site, is certainly a work in progress, and reflects my current thinking, and wrestling with a difficult subject. All insight and correction is very welcome.)

Community

One of the most important elements of a spiritual or religious institution, I think, is the sense of community that is created within that institution. As I grew up in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, my parents always taught me that we should attend all Church activities, to show our support to those people who go to the trouble of organising them. In our church, that's a lot - three hours on a Sunday, Tuesday nights for young people, Wednesday nights for leadership meetings or study classes ('Institute'), Thursday nights might be a Relief Society activity or an Elders Quorum 'Reachout night', and Friday night is for dances, when we're teenagers and young adults. On top of that, as men we go out several times a month to visit other members of our 'ward', or congregation, on what's called 'Home Teaching'. In short, it's not infrequent that every night of the week will be spoken for. It's a formula for removing all the spare time that you might have once looked forward to.

However, the surprising paradox is that for most active members of the Church, we would have it no other way. The congregation becomes our social group, from which we find lifelong friends, business partners, mentors and spouses. A sense of community is fostered around principles of common values, and shared activities. As I learned this for myself, I noticed that the relationships I shared with certain friends and family in the Church had an aspect to them that I didn't find with my 'non-member' friends. The root of this, I think, was a spiritual experience I had shared with these friends and family. To 'feel the Spirit', as we call it, together, brings us into greater interpersonal understanding, in the transcendent unity of that experience.

How is this possible? Well, even though what we call 'The Spirit' is felt differently by different people, it defies those differences, in the resultant feeling of harmony and peace it creates within us. It seems that, however we experience it, we want to relate to those around us in meaningful ways, when we have these spiritual experiences. Therefore, to have 'church activities' every night of the week, is to have the opportunity to be bonded together as a community, in a way I've experienced nowhere else.

Now, I'm not claiming that every Church activity results in a feeling of 'the Spirit' that we all experience! If only that was more frequently the case... But it happens often enough that overall, I have consistently benefitted from the community that the Church has provided. Isn't this opportunity to relate, one of the primary satisfying reasons for our existence? I listened to Noam Chomsky recently speak about the attempts by the ruling classes, throughout the last two centuries, to 'atomise' individuals, to avoid (as they saw it) the danger of mob behaviour. When I consider the central role of the TV set in our modern culture, I agree with Dr Chomsky, and I worry about the quality of our relationships. The Church provides a structure within which we can resist these atomising influences, and enjoy this important element of our human experience.

To Have My Cake, and Eat It?

I wonder sometimes if I ask too much of the Church. Am I asking, effectively, to 'have my cake, and eat it?' One might suggest that the Church offers a number of very real benefits, such as a stable and happy family life; a model for effective management of emotions and personal resources, and a set of ethical guidelines - all of which add up to the potential for great happiness and fulfillment in life. The cost that is attached to these benefits, one might argue, is a necessary one. That cost is conformity of belief, thought and action. One might say that this cost is not a choice on the part of the institution - nor is the authority of the hierarchy an 'optional extra' to the aforementioned benefits. The conformity, the authority, and the hierarchy are precisely what allows the benefits. It's a cause and effect relationship.

Therefore, if you follow this thinking, one cannot have one without the other. To ask for the benefits, without the cost, is to ask for something outside of the scope of what the organisation is offering. One might point out that to join the Church is a voluntary action, and in being baptised, we are effectively asking the Church to do all it can to help us 'stay the course', and to help us reach our goals, as stated implicitly when we join the Church. We are, one might say, voluntarily subscribing to the authoritarian system of the Church, when we join.

So - for me to ask the questions in my last post - for me to point out the problems with the occasionally authoritarian actions of Church government - is perhaps invalid. It's to expect something from an organisation that has always been clearly the opposite. If you want Liberalism, one might say - join the hippies. If you want the promised benefits, for the clear structures and occasional discipline employed by the Church - then sign up - the Church will use the most effective methods it has, to help you have what you ask for at baptism.

I can see the sense in these arguments. The problem remains for me, however: how are these questions different for someone who doesn't have a clearly defined moment of 'signing up' - as with someone 'born into' the Church? Does the Church have a responsibility to parents, to retain children within the Church, through the use of Ideology? Is it justifiable to promote a programme of control over young people, in order to keep them 'active' in the Church, that uses methods other than 'pure knowledge', or - I might translate - the ideal of unbiased informative education?

These are difficult questions. It is Utilitarian to suggest that the ultimate goal and justification of happiness/salvation makes permissible dubious techniques of control. But is authoritarianism dubious? Perhaps much of the Church membership would just see me as an extremist; a Libertarian, for even supposing that Church organisation could be classified as (even occasionally) authoritarian?

Personally, I feel compelled by conscience to believe in the ultimate goodness of educated, informed mankind. I believe that if you give people the information, then they will come to better decisions and actions. Therefore, I believe, any coercion, misrepresentation or use of Ideology are unnecessary evils. When we have a Church community that spurns these evils, and delights in the confidence that emerges from embracing all truths, we illustrate a better way than any one dominant, limiting 'grand narrative'.