Individual Adaptation within Collective Norms

 I have a friend who has struggled with body acceptance issues for a long time.  She is working on coping mechanisms to help her overcome this difficulty, but wearing garments exacerbates seriously her struggles.  I can't understand those struggles fully, since I have never experienced them personally, but they are real and, at times, can be damaging and even dangerous.

With reference to the garment, she said something to me once that I thought at the time was very powerful - and I have thought about it off and on since then.  She said:

It's difficult for me to see how a loving Heavenly Father could require something that makes us feel this way.

I had the chance to communicate with her again a while ago, and the topic arose one more time.  Having thought about it since she first shared her frustration, I answered her in the following way:

I don't believe he requires us to do things that make us feel that way - but, if you accept his existence and the foundation of communal rules in any way, he does require some people to do things that aren't "ideal" for those people. There's no way to have communal laws, rules, regulations, suggestions, cultural practices, etc. that are going to be "right" for everyone. They are approximations of what works generally for the good of the collective group.

That's an important, even critical, distinction - and I believe it's vital to understand. "We" don't get everything that would be "ideal" for "us" when we agree to be part of any group. An essential part of learning charity - true charity - is acceptance of that fact. The key is to step back a bit, see the benefit for the collective group, make whatever sacrifices are possible for the group, make individual adjustments and adaptations that are important to you personally and find peace in that balance between serving the collective good and honoring what is vital to yourself.

It's not easy - this embrace of paradox and complexity. Simple extremes are easier - but they also are more destructive. Worship according to the dictates of your own conscience, but find a way to do it within the community you choose as your own. It might take a while, but it's worth it in the end - since the faith you carve out will be your own, and it will allow you to continue being an active part of your own tribe, so to speak. 

In the specific case of the garment and her body issues, I have NO problem with her not wearing the garment in the same way most Mormons who wear it do so.  The Church Handbook of Instruction actually leaves how she does so in her hands, and I love that policy.  If adapting in healthy ways means wearing it only for specific things (like when she attends the temple) - or only for a short period of time each day and/or night - or only one day per week or month - or even not until she has a better handle on her body acceptance issues, so be it.  I would rather have her be working on getting to the point that she can wear it without real damage than be damaged in a very real way on a regular basis.  The key, I believe, is not to wear or not wear but rather to face the issue head-on and strive to find a way to do whatever is possible in the present while working on making the future better.

I think that is a good outline for most things in life. 

The Danger of Seeing Patterns as Formulas

A friend of mine once shared the following with me, and I want to pass it on to everyone who reads my blog.  I thought it was profound when I received it, and I still think so now.  I have added some of my own thoughts into his words - modifying his pattern a bit, if you will:

A formula, by definition is a series of inputs that result inevitably in a predictable output: A + B = C. 
A pattern is a plan, based on experience and/or observation, for producing a predictable output. A pattern however, can be modified by lots of varying circumstances outside the control of the "creator" and end up producing radically different "outputs".

It is efficient to use patterns for one's life, and we use them all the time in the Church. There is no reason, for example, to burn your finger on the stove, if someone else has already had that experience and you can learn from it vicariously.  Thus, following the principles articulated in the Word of Wisdom can be much safer than insisting on understanding addictions fully by becoming addicted then overcoming the addiction.  Even though not all who partake become addicts (there is no firm formula for addiction to some substances), there is enough of a discernible pattern to warrant many people treating the pattern as if it was a formula. 
There are issues, however, to doing that - to seeing patterns as if they were formulas:

First, to some degree, as we rely on patterns or formulas, we give up our ability to experience life personally and up close. Obviously, we want to avoid unnecessary dangers, but is it really life if we engulf ourselves completely in patterns and formulas? Maybe we risk not seeing the sunrise differently that someone else - and that would be a shame. Maybe we risk closing ourselves to the whispering of the Spirit - and that would be an even greater shame. 

The second thought is that as an LDS culture, we tend to take a pattern and think of it as a formula.  (In fact, this tendency is deeply rooted in the "natural (wo)man".)  For example:

- Marrying a returned missionary will make you happy.

- Marrying in the temple will lead to the Celestial Kingdom.

- If you marry a returned missionary in the temple, you will be happy and end up in the celestial kingdom.  (A + B = C)

Any time that we think of a pattern as an absolute formula, we are eventually BOUND to be gravely disappointed by: the returned missionary who goes 'astray' - the temple marriage that goes bad - the general unhappiness we might feel.  Perhaps, some of that general unhappiness (or shattering disappointment and disillusionment) might be because we feel we haven't really experienced "our own" lives and, instead, simply lived a pattern believing it to be a formula. 

I think it is important to understand the heart of what my friend said - that we can follow a general pattern (and that it's important to do so in many cases), but that it's just as important to find and follow our own paths and the promptings of the Holy Ghost that can tailor and alter a general pattern to one that is right and inspired and directed for each of us as an individual.  We need to understand how few formulas there are in mortality and, instead, see and adapt patterns that have meaning to us - and that will not shatter our perspectives if they do not act as formulas that create "C" and lead us instead to "D" - or "L" or even "Z".

Those Who Feel Betrayed By the LDS Church: An Analysis

I think one of the reasons some members feel betrayed by the Church is that they are either analytical by nature or emotional by nature - and they come to see the Church as the opposite.

Think about that a bit:

Someone who has developed a black and white view of Mormon history and finds that shattered by exposure to opposing and compelling accounts often reacts emotionally to that result - since black and white views tend to be more emotional than analytical. Such a person sees the Church as having been conniving and disingenuous - both of which, in that person's mind, are "analytical" attributes. So, an emotional person criticizes the Church for being analytical, if you will, and "hiding the truth" consciously and for purely selfish reasons.  The "truth" (whatever it is) doesn't matter in such a situation, since the reaction is predominantly emotional. 

Turn to someone who has a more nuanced, gray view. That is generally a result of being more analytical than emotional, and such a person often sees the Church as more subjective and emotional. This manifests itself in charges of hiding truth and covering up negative things (and even lying about stuff) consciously in order to feed the emotional attachment of the membership. The end result is a charge of anti-intellectualism - relying more on emotion than the intellect.  Again, the "truth" (whatever that is) doesn't matter in such a situation, since the the reaction is based on a perceptual difference. 

That happens all the time on various group blogs that are more critical than others, and it can be frustrating to see how blind most people are to that bias. My interactions over the years with certain people are a great example of this:

I drive them nuts, largely because I am both analytical and emotional - so it's hard for many people to categorize me and see "consistency" in my words. Especially with those who are emotional, they often see my analysis of their posts and comments initially as rejection or criticism - rather than simply as analysis.  On the other hand, those who are more analytical often try to read between the lines to find nuance and deeper meaning - and I try to avoid such nuance and hidden meaning when I am writing in a public forum.  Hence, those who are prone to nuance and analysis often misunderstand fairly simple statements by over-thinking things. 

The fascinating thing is that anlaytical and emotional people can reach the same overall conclusion, but each person attributes the motivation behind it to a different genesis - whatever is the opposite of their own personality.

It's a natural way to justify rejecting others, by classifying others as different than one's self.

Fewer Mormons Are Extremists than Most People Assume

I had an interesting experience a few years ago.

Someone who held a highly visible calling in my stake and is seen by everyone as a rock solid believer (and who is, in every way that is important) made the following statement in response to a discussion being held in the stake center chapel between stake leadership meetings:

"I really hate it when members say, 'I know this is the only true church on the face of the earth.'"

He went on to say that he believes passionately in the Restoration of the Gospel and the Priesthood, but he is concerned that non-members and members alike will interpret that statement to mean that we believe there is no truth in other religions.

My point in sharing this experience is that this was a very visible leader (who has had some astounding spiritual experiences in his life) saying something that others who might have heard it without the follow-up explanation would interpret as critical of the Church - while many of the non-leadership members who weren't there would never guess he feels that way.

That is a long-winded way of saying that I have no idea how many of the people in my ward and stake are "extremists" (take an "all or nothing approach" to the LDS Church and the Restored Gospel) and how many are not, since those aren't things we generally discuss as topics in and of themselves. I'm fine with not having that discussion generally, since I don't want to shake anyone who is happy in their own paradigm - but literally hundreds of similar experiences in my life make me believe fewer members are extremists than perhaps most people (including many members) assume.

Blessed by God: Individual Journies That Are Acceptable to Him

A friend of mine wrote the following comment a while ago in a thread about finding our way to God - and how not all of us walk the same pathway in that journey. I thought it was incredibly insightful, and I really like the scriptural reference to very different journeys that were blessed by God despite their differences. My friend excerpted a couple of comments from other people, and I have copied here the entire thing - excerpts and all:
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There are times when I wonder if all that's really required is a good honest heart toward other people (hard work, love, caring for others, etc.) - and all this ordinance / sacrifice / priesthood holding, moving, etc. is the invention of men. Blessed by God, but only one of a number of paths that are acceptable to Him.

A good scriptural account of this principle is how the Lord worked with the brother of Jared. The important thing was that a journey needed to happen - to get the people to the promised land.

The boats were just tools in the journey. How the boats would work, or have light to support life, could be done a number of ways.

The Lord lets the brother of Jared choose one way (crystal stones touched and lighted by God's power), and God reaches His finger through the veil to oblige and bless that choice.

That is one way you can get to the promised land. Obviously, other groups did it differently, and the Lord blessed their "ways" also. In the end, it was the journey and what the individuals learned along the journey that mattered, not the details.

I think this way about the Temple Ceremony, and possible sources Joseph Smith might have used to create it. If it was blessed by the Lord, than that is fine for me. As [someone else] put it:

I'm chalking it up to human ideas.

I think in many cases . . . they're pretty good [or even transcendent] ideas and can help me feel close to God, as long as I don't get so caught up in the literal teachings that I fail to benefit from the symbolic and spiritual truths and principles they are meant to convey. The details are far less important than how I use them to reach my intended destination.

A Different Way to View Right and Wrong: Considering the Priesthood Ban

There is a HUGE difference between something not being God's ideal and something being "wrong" - in the sense that it could have been done differently. Let me use my own life as an example, first.

There are things I do that are not according to God's ideal. In a vacuum, they are - each and every one - "wrong". There also are things that my wife does that, in isolation, are "wrong". I flat out refuse, however, to insist that she change those things now - and I refuse to nag her and publicly say that she "should" be able to stop right this instant. As long as she (and I) is sincere in her heart and is trying to change, I accept fully her current ability to live the best she knows how - despite those areas where she still falls short of her own and God's ideal. She is who she is, and I love her dearly and unconditionally. I don't apologize for her, privately or in public; that would be judgmental and even more "wrong" than her weaknesses are in and of themselves.

An historical example:

Why do we assume that the early Church (meaning its living and breathing members, NOT the impersonal organizational entity), had to have been able to have our current racial understanding and acceptance - and why do we feel the need to apologize for them? Merciful heavens, they sacrificed and suffered in ways that I'm sure would have destroyed me. Just because they couldn't rise above their racism, why should we condemn them? Why should we insist that God should have MADE them do what they couldn't do - be who they couldn't be - and why do we assume God isn't crying over our own inabilities to live His law even while allowing us to stumble in our own weakness?

I believe, personally, that God allowed the Priesthood ban to exist and continue as long as it did specifically because He is so gracious and merciful and loving toward His children. I know that is counter-intuitive and sounds harsh when viewed from the perspective of those who were denied that blessing, but I desperately want Him to treat me that way, so I strive to allow Him to have treated racist but otherwise wonderful people the same way. "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." I can't express how much I desire to obtain mercy, and if that requires that I quit demanding others be who they aren't ready to be - in this case, to quit demanding past leaders not have been racist or demanding that current leaders claim to know what they simply don't know (e.g., why the Priesthood ban happened) - then that is something I am willing to do.

Do I think the ban "originated" from God - that God revealed it to the Church? NO - unequivocally. Do I think God allowed it to happen without forcing revelation that the Church probably couldn't have handled? Yes. Do I believe that inter-racial temple marriage would have caused schisms in a church soon to be torn by the practice then cessation of polygamy - perhaps destroying it in its relative infancy? Perhaps, and I lean toward, Yes. I believe the ban was the product of racism, but I'm not sure it was "totally wrong" - in that I'm not sure it could have been different, given the composition of the membership and the time in which they lived. Just as a start, to avoid the ban, someone else other than Brigham Young would have had to have been the prophet, and I'm not sure the Church would have survived without "The Lion of the Lord" at its helm during those years. The more I study the more I believe that, even with his flaws and speculation and strong- and sometimes narrow-minded opinions, he literally saved the Church during those hellish years.

The point is, I don't know if the ban was "wrong" in that sense, even though I think it was not what God wanted in His heart - not "right" from a moral sense. I just don't know. So I have no problem when our leaders say they don't know.

The Danger of All-Encompassing Absolutism

I would like to see some survey data, but one common denominator of most of the people I have known who have left the Church after being dedicated members for multiple years is an all-encompassing, black-and-white, absolutist view. I have seen it in kids with parents who fit this description and with converts who come into the Church with this perspective. I think it’s much more complicated that just that, but I think inflexibility will lead to either incredibly difficult struggles or a refusal to even consider different perspectives. In my experience, what it produces is either anti-Mormon fodder or simplistic generalizations, stereotypes and denial by members, since it essentially leads one to not be able to accept what one can’t understand - which is, at the core, a loss of faith.

This belief that everything is black-and-white (that everything can be "known" in the here and now) is what I see as a lack of faith among many members - what I see as the opposite side of the bitter, ex-Mormon coin. One refuses to accept gray areas and leaves; the other refuses even to consider gray areas and stays. In both cases, it is faith that is lost - or never gained in the first place.

Internal Opposition in All Things

In college, I had a Comparative Religion professor who used "literalist" and "interpretist" when it came to "historical religion" - meaning "one who takes religious statements and stories literally" and "one who looks for interpretations, allegories or morals and, generally, ignores questions of historicity". I really liked that distinction, since it removes the condescension and negative connotations inherent in quasi-political terms like "liberal" and "conservative". I also like the "black and white" vs. "gray" description I've heard from lots of people. The first one tends to see everything clearly (or at least believe they see clearly) - which qualification shows my own perspective, the latter. One tends to state things as absolutes; the other tends to use words like "tends", "most", "many", "I think", "I believe", etc.

Frankly, I am a combination of the two - and it drives some people nuts on both "sides". I am a hardcore parser, since I hate defending what I don't say or believe just because someone assumes what I don't say. That tends to be associated with literalists and black-and-whiters, but it's just common courtesy to me. (Golden Rule) I live a VERY conservative lifestyle, and it leads many people to assume I have a strictly conservative, literalist view, but philosophically I am very interpretive and see gray in most things. There are certain things that I feel totally comfortable claiming to "know", while there are many things I simply believe, accept or don't worry about understanding for now.

Ironically, both extremes legitimately can be called "lazy" by the other. Those who see in black and white (literalists) can be said to be copping-out and avoiding the pain of nuances and contradiction; those who see gray (interpretists) can be said to be endlessly avoiding having to make a firm decision by eternally wandering in the middle.

Summary: I believe in moderation / balance in all things, including terms like liberal, conservative, intellectual, orthodox, literalism, interpretive, etc. I think if you can be characterized too easily as one thing or another, you probably aren't thinking enough - that if there is no "internal opposition in all things", you probably are too sure of yourself. However, I also believe there are certain areas, concepts, principles, commands, etc. that really can be grasped as universal and undeniable - that really do constitute absolutes. It's figuring out individually what those things are for me and allowing others to reach different conclusions for themselves that is the central issue, imho. That is inherently a painful process, but it's where I think the real growth occurs – the muddle in the middle.

Accepting Uncertainty and Remaining Faithful

I wrote the following on Mormon Matters a while ago (The Bright Night of My Soul), but I felt like I should post it here (edited slightly) on my blog today. It is longer than most of my posts here, but I hope it helps someone, somehow:
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I have not experienced a “dark night of the soul”. I have never awakened one morning feeling lost and abandoned, questioning everything of which I once was sure. I have wondered occasionally about that - about why it seemed to have “clicked” so completely for me at such a young age.

1) I read the Book of Mormon for the first time in First Grade as part of a reading project at school. (I chose to read it; everyone else was reading Dr. Seuss, The Berenstain Bears, etc.) By the age of seven, I had read the Book of Mormon and fallen in love with the way it made me feel - not primarily the doctrine in it, per se, but the way it opened my mind and heart to some incredible feelings and impressions. I am not a “visual learner”, and I don’t “see” what I read in the classic sense of being able to envision it in colorful detail. I “got” the words, but more importantly I “got” the “speaking from the dust” aspect - and that was more important than the words for me. (Not long thereafter, I read the New Testament and had the same type of experience.)

More importantly, I recognized places where it DIDN’T say what others believed it said. Even at that age, I was a parser - and I remember thinking that lots of people in my life, including many adults and leaders (and even former prophets and apostles) whom I respected and admired and revered, didn’t really understand some of the things I was reading in the way that they actually were written. I read passages and thought, “I can understand why people think it says ________________, but it just doesn’t say that.”

That was a foundational recognition for me - that faithful people at all levels in the Church could read the same words and understand them differently.

2) Growing up, I remember distinctly the words and example of my father. He taught me so many lessons, but the ones that came back to me as I read Andrew’s post were the ones that dealt with certainty - the ones that taught me what I could and couldn’t know. My dad is not a philosopher; he hated school and struggled there; in many ways, he is average Joe Mormon; he was and is, however, incredibly insightful and brilliant in his own way. Looking back, I have come to realize that he is the closest example of Christ-like, selfless service I have ever known. Many of my strongest “understandings” of the Gospel were shaped by what he said and how he lived, particularly when it comes to the issue of certainty and doubt.

I have no idea how many times I heard him say, “I don’t know if I believe that”, or, “That sounds good, but we just don’t know for sure,” or, “I’m not sure that’s how I see it,” etc.

3) As early as I can remember, I have understood the Gospel to be the core, fundamental, foundational principles of God. I also have understood that everything else is just details. I have understood that there can be certainty in the ideal - in the ultimate end - in the foundation principles, but I also have understood that everything we see and believe and extrapolate and conjecture and assume is subject to “further light and knowledge” - that even with more light and knowledge, we still will see through our glasses, darkly.

My eiphany is that I am comfortable living in my own “dark night” that is similar in practical result as other’s (one that is not cut off from God but simply cut off from certainty about the details) but that came about quite differently than it does for most. I have lived there for as long as I can remember. I have never believed in the certainty that many describe prior to their own dark nights, so I have never felt abandoned by its loss. My “dark night” appears “light” to me, because I don't remember a time when I believed I saw things clearly and completely. I just see them as clearly as I am capable of seeing them - which I understand and accept as “darkly”. I have never been shaken by doubt of detail or radical change in doctrine or policy, because my testimony has never been founded on certainty of detail or doctrine or policy. There are things I feel completely comfortable saying I “know” for myself, but I have never felt like anyone else had to “know” anything with certainty to enjoy the fruits of the Restoration.

I see my own understanding in I Cor. 13:9-13. In full text, it reads:

9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

I believe I know in part, and I believe our prophets prophecy in part. I believe that will change someday, but I have no idea when that will be. There was a time, prior to my first reading of the Book of Mormon, when I thought as a child - that everything was black and white and I could know it all; I put away that belief at a very early age. I believe I see through my own glass, darkly and, therefore, only in part; I believe someday I will know fully.

Verse 8 is the bridge between the characteristics of charity and the outlook charity provides. It says:

Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

Given this perspective, I live now with faith and hope that I will understand and know more fully on an on-going basis as my future unfolds. The greatest thing I can do in the here and now, however, is to be charitable - to obtain the characteristics in 1 Cor. 13:4-7 and allow them to grow within me and change me into the type of person who can accept wherever I and others are in our own individual spiritual maturation processes.

I believe firmly and deeply in the PRINCIPLES of ongoing-revelation and charity exercised in how I must view others - that what I believe now differs from what I believed as a youth and young adult - that what I believe now differs from what I will believe in the future - that what I believe now differs from what others believe now. I believe that this charity God gave me as a youth will not fail me, even as prophecies and tongues and knowledge fail all around me.

In my youth, this was an unconsciously proactive embrace of the core concept embedded in the dark night; in my adulthood, it is a light shining in darkness. I like to think of it as the long-extended bright night of my soul.