Loving Critics

It's amazing how when you really start looking, a way will often open up in front of you. Last night I came across this post on my favourite LDS group blog, 'Mormon Matters'. The poster, Andrew Ainsworth, is one of the most balanced and sensible voices I have found anywhere on these topics. In this post he discusses a 1979 talk by Bruce C. Hafen, who was at the time the President of Ricks College (now BYU-Idaho). Elder Hafen is now a General Authority of the church, so his voice represents a fairly authoritative and 'official' LDS position, yet this talk is unusual in its willingness to distinguish between stages of faith, and suggest a progression through disillusionment that will lead to constructive participation in the church.

I found the talk very interesting, not only in its own right, but also in light of the comments that followed Andrew Ainsworth's post. In today's context, Elder Hafen's category of 'improvers' raises important questions about how and where such 'improvers' might operate in the church. Andrew's post lists some of these questions, and I think they're worth quoting here:

1. Do we have a Church culture that recognizes a need for “improvers” by welcoming and valuing candid but loving feedback? Or do Church leaders tend to encourage the “optimist” sentiment that shuns and avoids any attempt to candidly acknowledge any shortcomings?

2. Are there restrictions on who is allowed to be an “improver” in the Church? For example, is it acceptable for a rank-and-file member to attempt to be an “improver,” or do Church leaders see that “improver” role as being restricted to themselves alone?

3. Have Church leaders provided clear, consistent guidance about how regular members can and should go about being “improvers”? For example, have Church leaders established clearly-defined communication channels that would-be “improvers” can use to provide candid but loving feedback to Church leaders?

4. Who are the “improvers” in the Church, past and present, how have they been received, and how effective have they been in helping improve the Church?

5. If we do not have a Church culture that welcomes and values “improvers,” will that cause those who’d like to be “improvers” to gravitate toward the “pessimist” camp?

These questions are at the heart of my current thoughts and position of faith. I feel like I'm certainly at the 'third stage' Elder Hafen suggests - I neither ignore the Church's failings nor disregard it's virtues. But as a rookie 'improver', I'm left with Andrew, trying to distinguish how to act in this way.

I certainly don't have all the answers on this - please comment with any thoughts you may have reading this - but it seems to be a hot topic on 'Mormon Matters' at the moment... so take a visit there if you'd like further reading! I'll certainly be doing that.

Recovered Idealism: Some Thoughts, Two Years On

It's almost been two years since I started this blog, and began writing down thoughts in a little brown notebook as a way of trying to give some structure to the immensely difficult process of understanding my own journey of faith. During the past nine months, since the birth of my second little girl, I've allowed myself to concentrate on these huge questions with a little less intensity than previously, and the result is that I've been able to put some of those emotional resources towards spending precious time with my family and benefiting from the perspective that comes from a temporary step away from the hot issues.

That's not to say I haven't still been thinking (every day!) about faith, or this journey with God that we take in this life. I feel now ready to compile this gestation period into some useful reflections on where I've been, and where I might go from here. As ever with this blog, I hope my honest and frank thoughts will be useful to others who might be going through similar periods of self-interrogation. I firmly believe that for someone in this path, the truest expression of faith we can evidence is a willingness to keep walking - keep asking questions, and believing that the journey will be worthwhile.

Looking at the first pages in my brown notebook, I'm struck by the distance I've come - mostly in terms of the kinds of questions that were important to me. Whereas originally my questions were largely to do with verifying the 'truth claims' of my religion, within a year I had shifted to a concentration on what I now consider to be the much more important question of how to live the practical substance of Mormonism (beneath the surface level of truth claims), and how someone can keep the good parts of this substance, and discern the cultural elements that distract from these underlying truths.

Two years on, I feel more passionate than ever about many of the key principles of this Church: self-reliance, spiritual connection with deity, the importance of fellowship and community, the sacred nature of physicality and the body, and the centrality of family relations, just to name a few. At the same time, I feel a more intense repulsion than ever towards other parts of the daily experience of Mormonism: cultures of coercion and guilt, deeply entrenched social conservatism, the insistence on hierarchal structures of leadership, and interpretation of scripture and whitewashing of Church history. Every case of PR spin from the sleek church news office adds weight to my back... and yet I have to believe in a God who desires for all these imperfections to be wiped away, leaving an organisation fit to bear His image and name.

Of course, these hopes are all terribly idealistic, and there was a time when my idealism just about flickered out. In the past nine months I've recovered a faith in the importance of ideals, and their power to move us to good (if imperfectly good) works. For me, these ideals make it worthwhile for me to speak my beliefs, in the full knowledge that they are versions of an unseen whole, and they are only of use insofar as they reference (as does the Church) a yet inaccessible perfection. Actually, that's why I feel that it's so important that we express our own varied and personal voices. Where our voices converge and come into proximity, they can form a harmony that circles around the true centre.

Over the next few weeks I hope to transcribe versions of my brown notebook in their chronological places in this blog. A note for reading, in summary: don't take my thoughts as claiming definitive status, but look for a space that opens up between this voice and your own. In between these two, or beyond them, perhaps there's a truth that is yet to reveal itself to us! That's something worth searching for; worth working for.

Why I Oppose California's 'Proposition 8'

For those of you who haven't come across this, 'Prop 8' was a ballot last autumn to define marriage in California as being exclusively between a man and a woman, and therefore, to stop same-sex couples from having their marriages recognised by the state (performed legally prior to the ballot), and future marriages from taking place.

For those who know me personally, it's clear that I'm a very happily married heterosexual man, and a lifelong member of the LDS church which has actively and openly encouraged its members (in a rare political move) to work to help 'Prop 8' pass. I have no bias towards the minority group in question, nor do I even have many personal friends who are gay. That declared, you're probably still wondering why I oppose California Prop 8. Here we go:

I believe strongly that the 'church' and the 'state' should be kept separate. In wider terms, that means that I feel that the two institutions have very different (and both important) jobs that they should stick to. In my opinion, it is the job of the state to defend our civil liberties and rights. The state should oppose bigotry, violence and the oppression of minority groups by the majority. As far as possible, the state should work to afford the greatest liberty to the greatest number of people, thus allowing everyone to live as their conscience dictates. The state legislates to establish and protect these liberties. The job of the church, by contrast (and with 'the church' I include all institutions working for similar good causes) is to encourage and aid citizens and members of their organisations (who ascribe to their specific principles) to live positive and productive lives - to help those around them and to find personal satisfaction within the liberty that the state has afforded them. To summarise: in my opinion, the state should legislate to protect freedoms, and the church should teach and encourage in order to aid citizens and members in their quest for personal happiness and fulfilment.

The problem comes when these two roles become mixed up. In such a case (and this has been the case with Prop 8) the church, feeling threatened, desires the state to legislate on its behalf in order to enshrine in law principles that it holds as being important (ie. marriage exclusively between a man and a woman). The problem? This reduces the liberties of another group that thinks differently. In this case, the church has sought to enforce its beliefs and restrict the liberties of others through legislation. Although the church may think that it has safeguarded a God-given principle, there can be no virtue in living a moral law because it is enforced. If 'gay marriage' being made illegal reduces the number of 'gays' in the next generation of children, this will not be thanks to the children using their freedom to choose.

I fully support the rights of the church to exercise their free speech, and to teach and encourage everyone to live according to its doctrines. But, in my opinion, the long-held position of the church, to avoid entering into political questions in all but the most rare occasions, has been a valuable asset. 'Prop 8' saw the church turn away from this strong position, and enter into territory that, in my opinion, is unjustified. Supporters of 'Prop 8' claim that the legislation will have a long-term effect on 'defending' the traditional definition of marriage, yet I feel confident that the arc of history will continue to lean towards freedom. It is right that every human being should, as far as is possible, be able to live according to his (or her) conscience, and be free to express himself as fully as he sees fit. He should be able to live the life he believes is best. That is a right that I often have taken for granted, but I am immensely grateful for.

Which leads me to why I have felt so strongly about this whole issue. I hear the terrible and sad stories of gay and lesbian people who feel that they live in a society that does not fully accept them for the way they feel they are made to be. Proposition 8 has hit such a nerve in America because it does matter - hugely. Boiled down, it is about a group who feel that they have a responsibility to dictate the definition a cultural institution (marriage), and use that definition to exclude a minority group. This action reinforces all the feelings of alienation and rejection that the minority group felt before this. The message from the church is clear: "this is our marriage institution, and you can't have it!". It's about defining one of the most powerful and central pieces of language in our society. Words can be more powerful than bullets - and supporters of 'Prop 8' have set up a machine gun nest to defend what they see as being their society.

I believe that we should try to work from positions of love and inclusion, not fear and exclusion. We should work to find ways to extend the freedoms, freedoms of expression and rights of all human beings. We should not be so concerned to 'defend' our position (a selfish and inward-looking motion), and instead, try to look outward, and embrace those who want to take part in the best and most sacred instutions of our society. There will, of course, be difficulties in making these changes - but can't we all agree to work towards these ideals?

The LDS church knows what it is to have its definition of marriage placed outside the law. The church suffered years of imprisonment and exclusion, until it could no longer practise the beliefs it held to be 'celestial' and 'eternal'. The LDS church should, more than any other institution, work to encourage the state to 'allow all men the same privilege'[s], to worship or, indeed, marry 'how, where or what they may.' (see LDS 'Article of Faith' #11). I feel a responsibility as a member of humanity to speak out, to try to promote these freedoms.

I choose to live my life as I see fit, and to marry the person I love. I feel that these 'rights' are essential to my happiness and wellbeing. Therefore, I want to see these freedoms enjoyed by all. Who wouldn't? One day, in America, in the LDS church and everywhere, I believe and hope this will take place. Please speak up too, and let the world know if you feel the same things.

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