Certainty, Not a Lack or Loss of Faith, Causes Many Faith Crises

I believe the expectation of knowledge over acceptance of faith causes a lot of crises. Those crises are not caused by losing faith; they are caused by losing certainly. 

In fact, I believe certainly breeds many crises. A crisis can't occur without the breaking of certainty - and certainty is a lack of faith, in a very real and important way. If we insist on knowing everything, we lose the ability to believe the unseen - and seeing something that doesn't fit our certainty shatters that certainty - since we can't hold on to what is left - that which still is unseen.

Working through a faith crisis is, to a large degree, an acceptance of uncertainty - a willingness to wait and not leap to conclusions (generally the opposite of previous conclusions, as in the example of a completely zealous Mormon who becomes an equally zealous Anti-Mormon).

Working patiently through a faith crisis involves patience and weighing of options (multiple, complex, mixed-up, paradoxical options), and that is opposed to certainly and the expectation of knowledge. It requires faith that an answer might exist beyond the simple, two-dimensional caricatures at the extremes of the spectrum - and that "the answer" might not come in the desired time frame.

Faith and Uncertainty vs. Doubt and Certainty

I will never "teach doubt" - but I teach the need to accept uncertainty and limited knowledge, and the subsequent need for inquiry and searching, all the time. Teaching doubt simply means teaching people to close their minds and avoid exploration and wait for others to do their searching and deciding and, as a result, allow someone else to do their acting for them.  Ironically, teaching doubt, in the end, is exactly like teaching certainty - and that ought to be contemplated in theological terms much more than it tends to be. 

I know it's not the exact same thing, but I've seen cynicism destroy people's lives - and it is ugly. I prefer to teach things related to doubt in a positive, solution-oriented way - so my approach is to acknowledge the universal nature of doubt / uncertainty / ambiguity / non-understanding / whatever and "teach" positive approaches to deal with and gain from it. In other words, I teach about the unavoidable existence of uncertainty (which sometimes is called "doubt") and its ability to encourage growth, but I actively teach constructive, productive ways to negate its potentially harmful effects.

Especially in matters of religion, that allows me to teach in a way that doesn't dismiss statements like, "Doubt not; fear not" - or anything else that casts doubt in a negative light. I can say, "Yes, doubt (a foundational attitude of disbelief) can keep someone from the benefits of faith (a foundational attitude of belief)." Even the scientific model is based on a willingness to believe that research of the unknown can produce new knowledge - and, at the heart, that is a vital, non-religious application of the core concept of faith.

Also, it's easier, always, to teach an extreme - on either end. It doesn't take much effort at all to do that. Thus, the extremes - on both ends - get taught more often than a more comprehensive understanding of the "perfect" (complete, whole, fully developed) concept and principle.

Anyone can "teach doubt" or "teach faith" in isolation. Not everyone can teach how they are inter-related - meaning not everyone can teach "eternal progression" and how both uncertainty and faith are integral to it. The ideal isn't to teach one of the extremes; the ideal is to teach the perfect concept. 

Teaching Faith Relative to Doubt and Uncertainty

When I teach about faith, I draw a distinction between doubt and uncertainty - and between doubting and questioning / seeking.

To me, "doubt" is used in the scriptures often as a verb ("to doubt") or to describe an orientation/mindset ("Doubting Thomas"), and it doesn't mean to be uncertain, to question or to seek. It means to have a disbelieving mindset - to start from a foundation of, "I have to see to believe," rather than, "I can believe while I question and seek, until I find evidence that leads me not to believe." Doubt is the suspension of belief amid uncertainty; faith is the suspension of disbelief amid uncertainty. Viewed that way, they are polar opposites.  Uncertainty isn't bad or evil in any way - unless it becomes a default setting that hardens into intractable doubt and removes one's ability to move forward amid uncertainty.  Acting on hope amid uncertainty is the non-religious term for the principle of faith.

Thus, I'm not a doubter; I'm a believer.

When I try to understand and decide what I believe and don't believe, I don't focus first on trying to figure out what I don't believe; I focus first on figuring out what I do believe. Once I figure out what I do believe, I don't doubt everything else. Rather, I simply don't believe it at that time - with the understanding that I might believe some of it at some point in the future as I continue to hone what I do believe.

I see doubt as restrictive and constricting; I see faith as liberating and empowering; I see questioning and seeking as essential - and doubt undermines that process. It's a subtle difference, but it's an important one to me, since it influences my attitude more than just about anything else of which I'm aware.

"Many Questions Must Await a Future Answer": The Case of Homosexuality

I don't believe that all people who end up in homosexual relationships are hard-wired biologically for that. I understand enough about the research on human sexuality and know too many homosexuals who had traumatic experiences that influenced greatly their choices and/or actions to believe sexual orientation is predestined at birth for all. Boys who are sexually abused in their childhood by a male are more likely to be abusers of other boys when they are adults; women who are abused by men are more likely to turn to other women for comfort, support and sexual fulfillment; etc. I understand those "environmental" forces and their effects on sexuality.

However, I also know WAY too many homosexual people who lived completely normal lives without any trauma, "indoctrination" (which I really don't like using regarding a topic like this, since it's a standard charge that means, in practical terms, "teaching something to children that I don't believe") or other environmental influences. I've known too many people who have known only sexual attraction to those of the same sex from the days of their earliest awareness of sexual attraction - and many who have tried to change that aspect of themselves without any success whatsoever. For them, like for me, trying to change their sexual attraction from one sex to another is useless; it simply can't be done.

Thus, I believe the following statements in the Church's latest pamphlet about same-sex attraction ("God Loveth His Children":

Many questions, however, including some related to same-gender attractions, must await a future answer, even in the next life.

However, the perfect plan of our Father in Heaven makes provision for individuals who seek to keep His commandments but who, through no fault of their own, do not have an eternal marriage in mortal life

.

Same-gender attractions include deep emotional, social, and physical feelings.

It also is interesting that the pamphlet does not use the word "repent" or "sin" once when dealing with homosexual attraction. Rather, it talks about such attraction often lasting throughout one's entire life and speaks of "self-mastery" - not "change". That is a critical word choice.  It is obvious that the Church no longer views homosexual attraction itself as sin, which translates into the belief that homosexual attraction is not a conscious choice in many cases.

All other issues aside, I believe that foundational understanding is key. Yes, there are environmental forces at work in many cases, but there are genetic forces at work in many others. I have come to this understanding partly through the research, but a more important part of my understanding was gained by talking openly and deeply with those about whom this post is addressed - and the ultimate realization came from multiple people who asked me, point-blank, if I could change my own sexual orientation if I tried hard enough - if I "only had more faith". I couldn't, and the very assertion that I should evokes a powerful oppositional reaction within me. In that sense, I "get it" - and I understand why many people hear someone say that they weren't "born that way" and feel like such statements are a direct attack on them and their honesty and sincerity. It is very much like saying, "That's not true. You are lying - or deceived." They aren't lying, and they aren't deceived. They simply are being honest about what they feel and, in many cases, always have felt.

So, for me, the "solution" to this type of discussion is to recognize the truth of the Church's first statement I excerpted and posted above:

Many questions, however, including some related to same-gender attractions, must await a future answer, even in the next life.

I'm fine with doing my best to understand what I can in this life while admitting openly that many questions must await future answers. 

Having said all of that, I also need to make it clear that there are parts of the pamphlet I have excerpted and parts of the general view of homosexuality within the LDS Church with which I do not agree.  I also need to make it clear that we do NOT need to await further light and knowledge regarding this topic only "in the next life" - that we are learning much in this life and must be open to continuing that learning, both religiously AND scientifically. 

Seek Diligently for Truth, No Matter Where It Is Found

I believe deeply in finding truth in everything.  I think that outlook is a fundamental part of the Gospel of Jesus Christ (see Moroni 7: 5-19, especially) and Joseph Smith's philosophy that animated the Restoration and his role as a prophet.

I was asked once if organized religion loses potency when it admits there is truth in everything - that a religion doesn't posses or even understand all truth and that "the fulness of the Gospel" doesn't include an understanding of all truth. My response was that it does not, according to Joseph Smith - or the notion of a process called the "restoration of all things" through on-going / continuing revelation.

Part of the grandeur I see in pure Mormonism is the audacity to believe that all truth can be circumscribed into one whole - and that striving to comprehend that whole is worth the effort. Limiting that whole to what we know now, and denying that there still is truth outside our current understanding to be included in the circumscription process (including things that others know of which we are not aware), goes against the very core of the Restoration.

A good friend of mine once wrote the following when he was asked about believing there is truth in every religion, denomination, faith tradition, science, etc.

1. If something is proven to be true, or beyond reasonable doubt, it's simply part of the gospel. As we study the creation, and the processes whereby creation occurred, I come to be in awe of the creator. Scientific discovery does not diminish my regard for god, it enhances my understanding of the absolute miracle of god's inherent power: nature. That god works entirely through nature is part of what Joseph Smith said, at least, in section 88, one of his most important and thoughtful revelations.

2. If something true is in conflict with scripture, then we need to re-evaluate our literal understanding of the scripture. I have to recognize how scripture was written in the mind and heart of the revelator, and thus, it's going to include the revelator's worldview. Obviously, this is controversial to those who believe that scripture is literally and forever true. Scripture is the milk -- it is not the meat of the gospel. As we grow up in our understanding, we sometimes need to set aside childish things.

3. There are a host of things that cannot be proven, and we need to take an attitude of suspended judgment for these things. I don't know if we pre-existed. I think it's a very useful model as part of the Plan of Salvation, but I simply don't know. Is it imperative for me to say "I know we lived with god before this life"? I believe it, I trust in it, but I cannot explain it. I don't know how it works.

4. I should never be afraid of truth. If Joseph Smith and Brigham Young did some pretty whacked out things, then I think it important to understand their humanity. I'm not afraid of it. I can understand how once you know that JS did a number of questionable things, that it's hard to believe that he was also a 'prophet', but I don't have a problem with it. I'm sure some people think I'm intellectually dishonest as a result. Whatever; truth is truth. Judgment is entirely another matter. I think it's true that Joseph did some pretty human things. My judgment is not affected by it -- he's still a prophet. He still facilitated the restoration. I find truth in the restoration, and therefore I can only conclude that God uses imperfect humans to do his work. This should be obvious from scripture. 

In summary, going back to my first thoughts in this post, as I am exposed to the thoughts, beliefs, discoveries, etc. of others, I try hard to make sure my initial response is:

What truth can I learn from this - no matter the source? 

How Much Control Do I Really Have Over My Actions? I Don't Know, but I Have Faith in God.

I have no idea how much free will I have as I make the decisions of my life – but it’s good to believe I have some degree of power to choose. It’s also good to believe it’s not all in my control, especially as I keep struggling to change what appears to be unchangeable in my nature – and it helps keep me from condemning others who also struggle to change (or appear to not be trying at all).

I have no idea why God very clearly and obviously spoke clear revelation through me on at least three occasions – but in the other hundreds of times when He could have done so He didn’t. It’s good to believe he will do so when it’s really important and not do so when I just need to do my best and learn from the chips falling where they may.

I have no idea why some of the decisions I just knew were inspired turned out so badly at the time – or why some of those ended up being really good decisions in longer hindsight, while others still look like bad decisions now. It’s good to believe he will stop me from making really bad decisions that will hurt other people badly while letting me make bad decisions that will hurt me but from which I can grow.

I have no idea why some people have been healed or protected in truly miraculous ways, while others have been left to suffer tremendously without protection or relief. It’s good to believe He loves us in those situations, but it’s bad to think He doesn’t love others in their situations.

I have no idea why the distinction obviously is NOT objective level of righteousness. Of everything else I’ve written in this comment, that is the only area about which I am certain. Sincere effort to be righteous can result in misery and pain, while wickedness actually can be happiness – at least in all objective measurements dealing only with mortality.

All of this could lead me to question God’s existence and/or love, but I know from personal experience there is something / someone out there that knows me personally and really cares – and that’s enough to keep faith that, despite my lack of understanding of issues like this, there is an answer that will make sense eventually.

On Teaching Children to Question without Losing Faith

For me and my kids, the most important thing isn't the questioning; it's the attitude behind the questioning. I question to learn, and I try to teach my children to question to learn.

I draw a distinction between "doubt" and "uncertainty" specifically because I want my children to embrace the idea that it's ok to be uncertain - but I don't want them to have a "doubting spirit". In other words, I want them to be open to changes in their understanding - of everything - as they learn more, but I don't want their primary orientation to be one of disbelief. I want them to be willing to explore anything and come to believe whatever makes sense to them - but that is different than not being willing to explore some things because their primary orientation is negative and unbelieving.

I'm not sure if that makes sense, but I think the biggest dis-service parents do for their kids in this regard (based on my years of observing parents who preach questioning and "debate" to their kids) is that they do so in a way that encourages their kids to disbelieve - rather than encouraging them to believe.

I try to teach my children to question with the intent of discovering what they can believe (what they can accept as "true" at that time), not with the intent of discovering what they can't believe. It's the focus that matters most - the "direction of the objective", if you will.

Let me use a specific example:

I know someone who was raised to question everything - but it was done in a spirit of debate in which arguing and trying to convince others was the focus. This friend became very good at debating things - seeing both sides of something and making a particular argument well enough to win. He became a lawyer and was very successful - but, in the meantime, he lost his ability to really believe anything in particular. Whichever position could be argued most effectively was the position that was "right" or "true" for him. Hence, he ended up with an orientation geared toward justification, which led to all kinds of destructive beahvior, divorce and other complications in his current life. Right now, he can't shut down his "justification orientation" - and he does whatever he wants to do, since, subconsciously at best or automatically at worst, he can justify whatever he chooses to do in some way. He also can argue about it until anyone who questions him gives up and walks away, further re-inforcing in his own mind that he hasn't done anything wrong.

His problem, as I see it, isn't that he started out with a disbelieving, justifying orientation (although that might be correct); rather, it's that he was tuaght that orientation and it was re-inforced throughout his childhood in the name of objectivity and rationality and open-mindedness. It wasn't a questioning orientation; it was something much more hard to quantify and name - perhaps a "win-at-all-costs" or "pride" or "purely intellectual" orientation.

It's a fine distinction, I know - but it's a very important distinction to me.

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".

Thestrals, Dementers, Boggarts and Crises of Faith

I work in education and have the week between Christmas and New Year as a paid holiday break.  Over the last week, I have re-read the Harry Potter books in my relax time - and a parallel hit me about many people with whom I have spent time online over the last five years.  If you haven't read the books, it might not make as much sense, but here it is:

There are at least two specific instances in the Harry Potter books where suffering is tied to unique abilities - one positive and one negative. 

The first is possessed by those who have been touched directly and profoundly by death (who see people they love killed violently).  They have the ability to see creatures called "thestrals", while those who have not experienced death that closely are unable to see them.  These creatures pull the carriages that the students ride to get to school, so the students who can't see them believe they are being transported by the use of a magic spell.  Those who can't see the thestrals are positive they aren't there, and nothing said by those who can see them can change the minds of those who can't see them.  For those who can't see them, they simply don't exist.  It can be frustrating to those who see the thestrals to realize others don't believe that they exist, and, generally, they give up trying to explain and simply go on knowing that what they see so clearly (their own reality) literally is unknowable to others (isn't part of their reality).

Also, thestrals can fly, and knowing they exist and how to "cope with them" can lead to being able to fly with them - and, in at least two cases, they are instrumental in escape from danger.   

What struck me is that intense grieving often opens "our spiritual eyes" and allows people to see things that were invisible previously - things that those who have not grieved in that way remain unable to see.  I believe this has direct application to faith crises - and the more intense the crisis, the more difficult it can be to explain to those who have not experienced anything similar.  Just like the thestrals that are so obvious to those who can see them, everything about a faith crisis can be "invisible" to those who have not experienced what causes a faith crisis.  Just like with thestrals, it can be frustrating to those who see the thestrals to realize others don't believe what has been seen, and they often give up trying to explain and simply go on knowing that what they see so clearly (their own reality) literally is unknowable to others (isn't part of their reality).

Also, those who are able to navigate faith crises by seeing new and amazing things actually can experience joy and happiness in ways that others simply can't - because those new and amazing things are invisible to the others.

The second is a disability, of sorts, and deals with dementers.  "Demeters" are foul creatures that take away happiness and warmth - ultimately, by destroying the soul (spirit, in Mormon terms) through the "dementer's kiss", while leaving the body alive and functioning in a living Hell.  Those who have experienced extreme grief are more susceptible to dementers, since it is harder for them to let go of their grief and focus on the only thing that drives away the dementers: intensely happy memories that produce a protective force manifested in animal form called a "patronus".  It is instructive that it is not the existence of grief, even incredibly deep grief, that robs the person of the ability to focus on the memories that will fight the dementers; rather, it is the difficulty of focusing away from the grief and concentrating on the joy. 

Likewise, "boggarts" are spectral creatures that take the form of one's worst nightmare - the thing that each person fears the most.  For those who have not experienced deep grief and personal pain, that might be something as "normal" as a huge spider or a scary teacher; for those who have experienced extreme grief and pain, that might something as terrible as a dementer.  The key to fighting boggarts is humor - thinking of something so ridiculous that laughter is inevitable and altering the boggart to include the ridiculous image.  (eg. the scary, male teacher in an old woman's dress and silly hat or the spider on roller skates)

I don't mean to imply the extreme or automatic extension of what I am going to say, especially about online communities, since some of them offer excellent support for people experiencing a faith crisis of some kind, but it struck me hard as an analogy that might provide perspective in a new way:  

One of the problems that many people who experience a faith crisis face is the tendency to focus so much on the "issues" that they end up "wallowing in grief" in one way or another, including the classic manifestation of anger that accompanies feeling like everyone has been lying to them, and being unable to see any humor in their lives or with regard to their situation.  When a tidal wave of such grief washes over someone, it can be very hard to remember, much less focus on, the very real happiness and even joy that was experienced previously or look at their crisis in any way that allows them to laugh - and it can be very easy to minimize that happiness and joy as somehow "false" or "naive".  It also can be easy to turn to sources, especially online, that, in practical terms, are filled with human dementers - people who are dedicated to sucking out the former happiness and joy that existed prior to the faith crisis - and/or see nightmares all around them that they never imagined previously.  The human dementers might see their roles very differently (even as "saving" people), but, again, in practical terms, what often results is people who are left with nothing in which to believe - nothing that replaces the happiness and joy they have lost.

The example of boggarts also can fit the way some members interact with those who are struggling.  Sometimes, the only option when some things are said is to laugh internally and accept that some things that are profound to some people really are absurd to others.  The key is to recognize the personal absurdity of any particular idea and not attach it to the person who believes it, since, to that person, it is not absurd and often is powerful in a real and important way.  

There are two "lessons" I took away from my pondering about this:

1) A faith crisis often can open one's eyes to new things, and those things can be beautiful and fulfilling or dark and terrifying - real or imagined - frightening or laughable.  The difference isn't in the newly seen things themselves but in the way each person reacts to them. 

2) Prolonged immersion in grief and anger leads inexorably toward the dementer's kiss - not because true joy and happiness never existed, but because new happiness and joy cannot be experienced and created.  Intense grief doesn't have to be denied or forgotten; it simply has to be over-ridden by memories of old and new joy and happiness.  The danger of a faith crisis lies not in the grief and suffering it causes; the danger of a faith crisis lies in the forgetting or denial of the joy and happiness that once existed and still can exist - and it lies largely in the tendency to push away real friends who were part of that joy and happiness and replace them with associates who aren't focused on helping create new joy and happiness - who really are focused on deepening grief and separation. 

There are no easy answers in the book or in this post.  Fighting dementers and boggarts is not easy, and someone would be naive and a bit addled to ask for the type of experience that allows thestrals to be seen.  I don't have canned advice in this post.  All I have is an analogy that I hope touches someone in some way - that perhaps can lead to the type of individual pondering that I experienced and some kind of personal insight that will help.

Interviewed by a Writer for the Washington Post

I had an interesting experience this week.  I was interviewed by a writer for the Washington Post who is doing an article about "questioning Mormons".  I was referred to her due to my involvement online with members who are struggling with some kind of faith crisis - and as someone who simply is inquisitive and "questioning" by nature. 

I enjoyed the conversation greatly, but I hope she doesn't misquote me in the article - if she quotes me at all.  I'm a "questioning Mormon" only because I question by nature.  In other words, I'm not a doubter or struggling in any way; I just question and want to understand everything better.  I try to be open to "further light and knowledge" regarding everything.  I try to understand how I personally feel about and see things - rather than accepting what others tell me automatically, without question.  The following is a simple summary of my memory of the conversation - not meant to be exhaustive and complete (since we talked for nearly 45 minutes), but meant only to provide the general outline of our conversation:

I think her focus is going to be on Mormons who struggle to be able to express their concerns in the LDS Church - how their questioning affects their membership and why. She mentioned the number of members who wouldn't give their names if they were going to be quoted and how she was struck by that. She also talked about attending church with an acquaintance and observing the general lack of dissenting voices. (I think she doesn't realize a large part of that is because the LDS Church is so participatory in nature that most members don't want to cause contention or problems when they might be the one teaching the class later that day or down the road a few years.  I think we all know that payback can be a . . . difficulty - and none of us want to encourage hard feelings and vocal, obvious disunity.) 

I was crystal clear with her about my situation and why I don't struggle even though I question pretty much everything. (having to accept the fact early in life that I see things differently than everyone else around me and my social capital from not being a threat in any way) I told her I am a fully active, serving, believing, faithful, dedicated member - who just happens to see some things differently than others.  (i.e., I don't question because I'm Mormon; I am Mormon and I question naturally.)  She asked about my background, so I gave her a thumbnail sketch. 

We talked a lot about placing Mormonism into historical perspective. (She mentioned how diverse and tolerant Judaism is, for example, and I pointed out that it wasn't nearly as diverse and tolerant back in the biblical days when it was being oppressed by various empires - and that Mormonism still is close enough to its times of intense persecution that it's unrealistic to expect it to be completely out of the woods in that regard.) I mentioned Pres. Uchtdorf and Elder Wirthlin and how there are top leaders who appear to be trying to move the Church toward a more accepting and less fundamentalist orientation, and I stressed the difference between that and what individual members encounter when they have local leadership that has an extreme protect-the-flock mentality and sees danger everywhere. (I used myself and an online friend as a prime example of the wide differences in local experiences.) I explained my settler vs. explorer analogy - that settlers establish barriers to ward of potential danger, while explorers are drawn to potential danger - that there is an inherent, unavoidable tension between them in most cases - and that neither approach is "bad" or "wrong". They just "are" - and I am trying to be the best "I am" possible for me - to live according to the dictates of my own conscience while allowing others to do the same.

I also taught her a new word - "orthoprax" (living one's life in a traditional manner) - and talked about how the mainstream actions of members generally can overcome non-aggressive heterodoxy (believing differently than the dominant group but not pushing for converts, so to speak).

We talked for a long time, but I'm not sure how much of what we discussed will make it into the article - or how much will be truly an accurate retelling of what I meant. We'll see.

We Know Far Less of Life Than We Tend to Think We Do

One of the most baffling aspects of life for me is the stark difference in experiences among humans. I can't explain it - other than to state that I am positive it has little if anything to do with effort or sincerity or even "faithfulness", since I know of any number of people who are more of each of those things than I am but who have not had experiences like mine. It truly baffles me, and I don't hold it up as proof of anything - except that we know far less of life (both here and not here) than we tend to think we do. Of that, I am certain - and, ironically, that is one of the things from which I have found great comfort and strength and peace.

One of the Secrets to Learning by Faith

A friend of mine once told me:

I think you learn more when you are less certain you know the right answer already.

There is a wonderful application to what "faith" really means in that quote.

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.

To Be More Humble: The Danger of Being Absolutely Certain

As I considered the idea of becoming a little more humble and a little less proud this week, I thought back on other things I have contemplated and about which I have written over the last few years.  I want to focus today on something I believe strongly - that we often focus so much on knowledge and knowing that we devalue what, in a way, is the pure heart of humility.  Sometimes we focus so much on knowing that we forget about the real power and, I believe, enduring need for faith. 

“Faith” is not “knowledge”. It is the substance of things “hoped for” - the evidence of things “not seen”. Faith is based on “hope” - a desire for something that cannot be seen or understood fully. “Certainty” is the perceived end of faith - the desired outcome most people envision. It is to be sure of something to such a degree that it is expressed most often in terms of knowledge. “I know this” and “I am certain of this” are seen generally as saying the same thing, especially within religious communities.

One exercises faith when one is uncertain; one does NOT exercise faith when one is certain. When someone is absolutely certain, he stops seeking greater understanding.  Such a condition leads the person who is certain to stop exercising faith, since she believes there is nothing with regard to that particular concept she doesn't "see" - that she has sufficient "evidence" to be certain and not need "further light and knowledge".  If even a prophet (Paul) could write that he saw "through a glass, darkly" . . .

I get more than a little bit frustrated by the insistence that everyone can know everything, since even our own sciptures say that some have the gift to know while others have the gift to believe those who know. (I think there is another category of people - those who never feel like they know and can't believe those who believe they know.  I admire DEEPLY those who find themselves in that situation and still manage to exercise faith [hope in what they can't see] despite their inability to actively believe.)  My biggest concern is the idea that faith and uncertainty cannot co-exist - that if I am uncertain of something, then I lack faith. That is a fundamental misunderstanding of faith.

I would posit that we all must, by definition, exercise faith until we are certain - and then hold onto that previous faith again if we lose certainty. Since none of us can be certain about everything imaginable, every one of us needs faith in something all our lives. I believe each of us can be certain of some things, but I also believe we can be certain of many things and still be incorrect - at least partially.  If we are certain of everything, I believe we either are ignorant or delusional. If we never reach an acceptable level of certainty, then we need to accept a life of searching ("seeking after these things") - following whatever principles and people and politics and religion we feel provide us with the highest degree of certainty we can obtain OR the particular vision in which we want to have faith.

Finally, there were at least two times when I think it is safe to say that Jesus struggled mightily - because He didn’t understand and didn't want to accept something. (In the Garden, where He asked if the cup could be taken from Him and on the cross when he cried out and asked why His Father had forsaken Him.) In these cases, he seems to have been uncertain about some aspect of the Atonement and had to exercise faith: specifically, that He would be able to do it and then that He would be able to do it alone at the very end.

If the Savior and Redeemer of the world didn't understand some things right up until the end of his life - if even he had to exercise faith in at least two instances, I believe it is important for each of us to accept that we also need to accept uncertainty and not assume our visions and views and beliefs are objective truth that need no more light and knowledge. 

I think nearly everyone would agree with that, in theory, but there are SO many times when we forget it in reality - when we allow ourselves to be proud and miss amazing opportunities for spiritual growth and enlightenment by being absolutely certain.

The Vineyard Still Is Being Pruned

I personally believe the priesthood ban was unavoidable for the time and circumstances and, therefore, not "wrong" in that sense. I also know, however, that Joseph Smith ordained black men to the Melchizedek Priesthood - and I also am confident that Brigham Young (and most of the citizenry of the nation, Mormon or not) was racist, particularly (perhaps solely in Pres. Young's case) when it came to inter-racial marriage. I believe the ban was "wrong" in the sense that I don't think it was in harmony with what God would have preferred for his people in an ideal world (which I think is crystal clear in the Book of Mormon, ironically), and I know the justifications were horribly "wrong" according to the staunchest proponent of them (Bruce R. McConkie).

I believe it lasted as long as it did because the Church had to be ready to institute God's ideal before He would overturn it through revelation (that He was "slow to hear their cries" because of the hardness of their hearts and the incorrect traditions of their fathers - Alma 11:24). I might be wrong about most of that, but I am confident in saying that racism played a central role in how the ban evolved. I'm fine with that, since I simply think it was unavoidable - a trade-off, if you will, that was part of locating the Restoration in America at that time. 

In a nutshell, I believe the Restoration of the Gospel did NOT remove totally the "incorrect traditions of their fathers" from affecting the early Church leaders and members. They brought prejudices and biases into their membership (just as we still do), and they didn't have the luxury of over a hundred years of growth and clarification. The theology and doctrine were still new and overwhelming and evolving as they started to separate out the clinging false from the new true. I believe the Priesthood ban was perhaps the best (worst?) example of this pruning process - a literal fulfillment of the last pruning described in Jacob 5. 

I don't believe that pruning process is complete yet, and I don't know what other issues will be part of that process, but I do think I still see through my glass darkly enough that I'm not going to stake my testimony on anything remaining exactly as I understand it now. We've seen enough change over the last 180 years that I'm not convinced I know anything well enough to speak authoritatively about most things of eternity.

Certain About Uncertainty - Uncertain About Certainty

I believe strongly in both certainty and uncertainty - in the need for both in each individual life. I hope I can explain succinctly, since that’s not my default - as you all know.

My favorite definition of faith is the one that combines “the substance of things hoped for” with the motivation to pursue those unseen things. Next, as I’ve said here before, I believe that life is about becoming, not just understanding - and that becoming trumps understanding if only one must be pursued. So, I see a need for balance in this discussion of certainty vs. uncertainty.

In practical terms, this means I believe in the certainty of hope that motivates me to move forward and “plant and nurture the seed” - believing that if I do so I will understand more fully and gain more certainty. However, the real problem occurs when certainty closes off any desire to continue to learn more - about a particular concept or about all concepts.

Without a measurable degree of certainty, growth just won’t occur - since time will be spent “trying to understand better” rather than “trying to live better”. Personally, I would rather try something and learn at a very practical level by my success OR failure than not try something and never learn except in theory.

In summary, I want to be more and more certain of the details about which I care deeply, even if I never am certain of everything. I just don’t think there is time in this life to learn enough to be certain of everything - and I think that is a central concept of the Restoration. Think about continuing revelation in that light: Protestantism essentially said, “We know enough to get what we want;” Joseph Smith said, “I don’t, and you don’t know enough to get what I want.”

Finally, it bothers me greatly when someone says with certainty that I can't know something with certainty. *grin*

Analytical Belief vs. Skeptical Doubt

I don't mind the term Skeptical Believer, but I make sure I define it carefully and clearly.

I think the heart of being a Skeptical Believer is rooted in belief. I think the skepticism comes from belief - that we believe there is a God (and a way for us to conceive of Him), but we are skeptical of our ability to understand Him perfectly. Therefore, we believe what we believe, but we are always open to more - or to alteration - or to insight from others - or however else someone might want to say it. Perhaps a better term would be an Analytical Believer.

I personally have no doubts about the Restoration and the Church that are serious enough to cause me great angst or make me leave - and I am skeptical that I ever will have doubts that drive that deeply. The very definition of belief I use is such that the things I question or don't understand simply aren't as important as the things I believe. My belief is primary, and my skepticism in my own ability to know it all simply drives my attempts to understand better and more fully.

It's kind of like godly sorrow vs. the sorrow of the damned. One drives someone forward; the other drags someone down. My "skepticism" of my own understanding drives me forward, focused on the future and the positive; the skepticism I see in some others keeps them constantly focused on the past and the negative. I am extremely happy, and I just don't care about tearing down others; some others are not happy, and they seem to find their purpose in negativism and mockery.

I am an Analytical Believer; they are skeptics.