Difficult Questions, Uncomfortable Answers, and Simple Faith
A woman I just adore stopped me in church yesterday and asked me a really compelling question.
I’ve been reading “Mormon Enigma“, she said, and it’s not saying what I want to hear. I think it’s accurate but it’s making me cranky. Is it worth reading if it makes me feel this way?
First off, I can’t answer that question as a blanket sort of statement. It depends so much on what a person needs in her own life.
On the one hand, I’m not a big fan of the bury your head in the sand method of strengthening-the-members. It’s a very shallow sort of strengthening, if you ask me. But having said that, Life is Hard, and sometimes burying your head in the sand is an urgent matter of survival. If that’s what you need to make it for the next five minutes, until tomorrow, until next week, then dig in. You have my blessing (I know that’s just what you all have been waiting for!).
But as a general matter, I would have to say that Yes, Learning is Important. Yes, Feeling Uncomfortable is Worth It. In fact it may even be vital.
We all have a small little cushy space in which we feel comfortable. And I think it’s all too easy for us (in our flawed human nature) to translate comfortable, easy, pleasant into GOOD.
But I think we are wrong when we shy away from things that make us uncomfortable without determining why. Sometimes things make us uncomfortable because they harm people, like say, pornography and genocide. But sometimes we are uncomfortable simply because things are unfamiliar and/or complex.
My space is inhabited by white middle-class Mormons. Just about everyone I know is a white middle-class Mormon and I’m very comfortable around white middle-class Mormons. And the sad truth of the matter is, you put me in a room full of poor black Baptists and I’m distinctly less comfortable. This doesn’t mean that poor black Baptists are bad, it just means that I’m comfortable with things I already know. And I don’t know a whole lot about interacting with poor black Baptists.
Likewise, I’ve learned a certain brand of history my whole life. I’m comfortable with a history in which Joseph Smith’s “flaws” included being a tad too jovial and wresting with his children in an undignified un-prophet like manner. The uncomfortable truth of the matter is, Smith’s flaws were far more numerous and infinitely more serious.
I may never be comfortable with poor black Baptists (even given the opportunity, unlikey in the greater metropolitan Boise area) and I may never be comfortable with the truth of Joseph Smith’s flaws.
But I refuse to believe that the mistake is in learning about Joseph Smith, the mistake is in our expectations that Answers should be comfortable, simple, or easy.
People are messy. History is messy. Doctrine is messy. Church is messy. It’s a messy messy world.
Messy uncomfortable history doesn’t make simple faith untrue or irrelevant. Irrational perhaps, or maybe superrational, er something . . . but faith isn’t supposed to be about rationality. Faith is about being brave enough to believe.
Faith really is a leap, and you will never be able to make all the history, the science, the scriptures, the prophets, the manuals, answers-to-prayers line up neatly to justify your faith. If you insist on this outcome you must either not ask questions or you will end up lying to yourself.
We are perverse creatures. We want to believe and We want to be rational. Yet another messy paradox. Belief is irrational, and Rationality is hallow. Messy, messy, messy.
There is no simple solution. Faith without reason creates a frightening arbitrary ignorance. Reason without faith a hopeless meaningless futility.
Embrace the mess. Escape your comfort zone. Allow yourself to ask difficult questions and face uncomfortable answers and unsolvable complexities. Seek. Learn. Grow. Allow yourself to believe irrationally. Hope.









I should start out by saying I have not read this book.
I understand what you’re saying, and generally, I agree with you — yet . . .
I would hate it if someone wrote a book to expose all my flaws (not that that was necessarily the author’s purpose, I have no idea). Not that anyone’s ever going to write a book about me, I’m sure they won’t. I remember a line from “Pollyanna” (yes, that’s right, I can quote Pollyanna, I’m an insufferable dork). It was actually a quote of Abraham Lincoln saying, “If you go about looking for the bad in mankind, you will surely find it.” I think that’s a pretty true statement, about anyone - Prophet or not. I’m not saying that people should think Joseph Smith was perfect, in fact, I think it’s better if they realize the opposite. Latter-day prophets prophesy of the Savior, but they’re not Him, they’re regular people. I’m sure there’s plenty of imperfection to be found about Joseph Smith. I know there’s plenty about me. I’m certainly not in the position of being “the Lord’s mouthpiece” like him, but I’d sure hate it if everyone focused on my flaws/imperfections/mistakes. I say if the book gives her a yucky feeling, and it’s from the Spirit, it’s time to swan dive (maybe peacock dive in this case) into the sand. But that’s just my opinion.
P.S. Sorry this was so long. I lurk here often and I really enjoy all your posts!
Comment by HeidiAnn — March 27, 2006 @ 8:48 am
I’m not saying she should read it, I tried to make that clear. I’m saying that she should thoughfully examine her discomfort and not automatically assume that discomfort is from the spirit, because it’s ignorant to assume that it is.
And your assumptions about the book are false I think (which is the problem with making assuptions).
Mormon Enigma isn’t remotely about exposing Joseph Smith’s flaws. It’s a bio of Emma Smith. But it’s pretty much impossible to write a honest biography of Emma Smith without talking about the lies he told her and the indignities he put her through. She forgave him, and so can we. It’s also pretty much impossible to write a an honest biography of Emma Smith without showing what an extraordinary person Jospeh Smith was, which ME also does.
I’m sure we all hate to have our flaws exposed. But it would be totally dishonest and useless to write a history that refused to acknowledge people’s (sometimes ugly) actions. I’m not a fan of dishonest simple history, even (especially) if it’s my own. Like you, no one is likely to ever write a history about me, but if they do, I hope they are honest and awknowlege the full complexity of my life.
Comment by fMhLisa — March 27, 2006 @ 9:00 am
I get asked that question once in awhile about books because it’s well known in my ward that I’ll pretty much read anything. If someone asked me that about Mormon Enigma, I think I’d say, “sure read it. I don’t remember much about it, but I wouldn’t tell the bishop if I were you. But by all means, give it a go.”
Which really sucks. That I would have to add the disclaimer about not telling the bishop.
Comment by annegb — March 27, 2006 @ 9:15 am
Honestly, my answer would have depended on what I knew about the woman.
_ME_ and similar books are the kind that could make someone with a weak testimony jump ship. That book (or any other) is not worth losing your testimony over. If I thought that she didn’t have a firm testimony, I’d encourage her to shelf it.
But if not, I’d tell her to read it and keep praying.
Comment by Julie M. Smith — March 27, 2006 @ 9:30 am
I think blogging tends to attract a certain type of member: namely those who are intensely interested in the intellectual and theoretical aspect of their religious experience. That isn’t to say they don’t have their practical and emotional sides, but they tend to engage the Gospel in a certain way.
I think many here are likely to feel the same as fMhLisa and consider a conscientious decision to ignore stuff like “Mormon Enigma” and the philosophical dilemmas of Mormonism as ostrich-behavior. That would be my first impulse anyway.
But realize that intellectual honesty is not one of the saving ordinances in our church. Neither is intellectual courage one of the First Principles and Ordinances of the Gospel. In fact, I don’t think you really need a college degree (or even proper spelling!) to enter the temple.
This is a religion that must save all humankind, not just those with masters degrees. And I’m willing to believe … in fact, I do believe … that intellectual pursuit is an absolute waste of time for a lot of our brothers and sisters. For many, such time would be better spent providing simple acts of service.
By the way, this isn’t meant to be condescending. I actually don’t consider people who haven’t even heard of Rough Stone Rolling to be an inferior sort of member. I know many people who never got more than a high school degree who are actually much more admirable than a lot of college students I knew. There are many kinds of wisdom in this world. Reading and thinking about controversial issues is only one of them.
In fact, an intense involvement with intellectual pursuit can also result in a shallow individual who lives his life entirely within his own mind and, in the words of Jacob Marley, “never ventured beyond the confines of this counting house.” (I know I butchered that quote …).
I have no problem with Lisa’s friend dropping the book entirely.
Comment by Seth R. — March 27, 2006 @ 10:12 am
Seth, I believe that you are correct that the church is in the Salvation business and that a focus on the devotional aspects of our gospel is paramount. That said, the Gospel is also about Truth. The truth shall set us free, right? So if we are going to espouse virtues, the persuit of knowledge is a scriptural mandate, albeit secondary to faith, hope and charity.
HeidiAnn, I am a bit uncomfortable with your characteriazation that if you feel bad it is the spirit telling you that you should turn away. How many members would leave the church and investigators never join if they determined that it was the spirit making them feel bad when confronted with challenging issues? Sometimes issues are just challenging. Sometimes truth is tragic and it makes you feel bad. If you are raised with a devotional world-view, changing it will be painful. If one chooses to retain the devotional world-view and eschew the pain, that is sensible. If that is the case, One just has to accept that they cannot speak to issues of history or doctrine very well, only to issues of personal redemption.
Comment by J. Stapley — March 27, 2006 @ 10:51 am
J is so often my hero, and is yet again - saying what i wanted to, but so much better.
I felt exactly like Lisa’s friend when I read ME. I put it down for 3 weeks as I tried to sort through my feelings about Joseph. I still have my problems with him, mainly his lying to Emma, but I’ve managed to find some level of peace, which I talked about here.
I think truth is vitally important, and part of my issues arising from this was feeling that the church had betrayed my trust with the over sanitized version of events and people we’re given. A little more openness and honesty about topics like these would go along way and not made it such of a shock when we read books like these and others.
Comment by Rebecca — March 27, 2006 @ 11:06 am
It’s interesting that you raise the questions you do in the context of _Mormon Enigma_. I read it when it was first published, and I was 15. Even for someone who had her first polygamy crisis at age 11 (I was hell on Merrie Miss teachers, lemme tell ya!), this was tough going. Fortunately, I have a dad who is both very wise and an experimental physicist (not necessarily related traits!!). He quoted Einstein to the effect that one should make things as simple as possible, but not simpler. As Lisa said so well, the world is messy, and truth is difficult. But the way to deal with difficult truths is not to avoid them, but to seek more truth. I’ve almost always found that there is light and simplicity on the far side of darkness and complexity, and that the colors you can see in the light on the far side are richer and deeper and truer than the sweet watercolors that entice us toward truth in the first place.
That said, I also think there are better and worse times to confront difficulties–before I suggested someone read _ME_, I’d want to know that they were committed enough to persist all the way to the other side, and not end up stuck in the dark. I haven’t read _In Sacred Loneliness_, or the second volume of Mike Quinn’s _Mormon Hierarchy_ because I know myself well enough to know I might get stuck in them for a long time and my own life is complicated enough without that for now. And I think that’s OK, too–doesn’t make me an ostrich, just sensible of my own limitations.
Comment by Kristine — March 27, 2006 @ 11:49 am
I agree with Seth. We shouldn’t expect people to explore if they’re not really capable of doing that. We also shouldn’t fault them for choosing not to do so.
I agree with fmhLisa’s larger point that being uncomfortable in a way that you can handle is a good idea.
Comment by D-Train — March 27, 2006 @ 12:18 pm
I’ve cited this before, but I remember a bishop once saying that we needed to have the equivalent of a PhD in doctrine to enter the celestial kingdom. I remember being uncomfortable with that concept but being unable to iterate why (I was 10 or so).
Now I think I understand — because it’s not about how much doctrine you do or do not learn — it’s about what you do with the doctrine you do understand. There will be lifelong nursery leaders who never read anything not published by a prophet who will occupy high places in the hereafter.
Comment by queuno — March 27, 2006 @ 12:58 pm
I think for me personally it’s a question of evaluating when I can handle digging depper, much like Kristine stated. I think we all need to be able to have some level of “uncomfort” in life because as we all seem to agree, life is messy. However, I think sometimes we just need life to be clean, easy, light, and we don’t have the energy or ability to seek out the deep questions. I also know that I DON’T want those books to shake my deeper testimony. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to read and evaluate them, it means that I’ll probably be in a much better position to do so at some other point in my own spiritual progression. I’m afraid if I make the effort now, I knowingly place myself in a position of negativity that I cannot combat. However, I bet I’d be able to read them and deal with those issues in a better way somewhere down the road.
Comment by Leslie — March 27, 2006 @ 1:21 pm
I must say that my comment is restricted to digging deeper with LDS history at this point, and my own activity level and testimony at the moment. I’m currently expanding my own world view of other matters and very much enjoy the journey. Without threadjacking, I very much agree with fmhLisa’s last statement :
Comment by Leslie — March 27, 2006 @ 1:26 pm
Excellent post! I so agree with that.
As for _ME_, I remember getting a lot out of it when I read it (pre-children, when I had more time!). But IIRC wasn’t some of it found to have been based on bad sources? Not that it was the author’s fault, but more was discovered or something. Or is there a new improved edition out there?
Comment by dangermom — March 27, 2006 @ 1:45 pm
I’m literally on my way out the door (on the way to SLC, conference, and the bloggersnacker) but I just wanted to say that I think those commenters who’ve said that it is unfair to classify those who are not at the right place to study hard questions as ostriches. I mean, me, of all people, who read my first real Mormon history book three months ago, should know better.
Anyway, I’m off! And I’ll see some of you soon!
Comment by fMhLisa — March 27, 2006 @ 2:35 pm
Bloggersnacker? When? Where? (I suppose I could poke around the ‘naccle, but I’m lazy & my internet is slow.)
Comment by mindy — March 27, 2006 @ 6:41 pm
Lisa,
I see you see clearly through the glass, darkly. Life is messy as you and I have both seen.
1 Corinthians 13:12
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.
You are someone who might enjoy my messy trip to and at Woodstock. Your words comfort me as I face my very messy future.
Peace,
Old Charley
Comment by Old Charley — March 27, 2006 @ 7:01 pm
It’s scary to find your comfort zone suddenly shrinking around you. There are times that I wish I could go back to the unquestioning and undoubting girl of my youth. You just have to ask yourself if you are ready for the questions that don’t have answers (or worse, the answers that you don’t want to know).
For now I like my brutal truth in small doses. I have to temper it with some internalizing and old school prayer/scripture study. I’d tell her to put it down for a bit and come back to it when she’s ready.
Comment by Anelie — March 27, 2006 @ 8:10 pm
I agree with you Lisa.
I believe there always will be some new challenge, accurate or not, to our faith: rest of JS’s (no man knows my his-) story, Salamander Letter, Lamanite DNA, or any old tale from Walter Martin.
I believe there always will be some new evidence, accurate or not, to support our faith: ancient writing on metal plates, Hoffman’s discovery of Lucy Smith’s narration of missing 116 pages, Nahom engraved in Mid-East.
I believe there always be rational distractions from the source we’re to follow: guidance from the Holy Ghost to know the truth of all things — the foundation for our faith.
It is through our messy wrestlings with the Lord that we prove Him and then prove us. Finding His way through the mess is what perfects (completes) us.
Comment by manaen — March 28, 2006 @ 2:57 am
If one believes the church to be true, then reading books that have a learning intent should be no problem. The church rises or falls on the book of mormon and not on whether or not Joseph ever lied. If one believes the book of mormon to be the word of god then I think that it is wonderful that Joseph did lie on occasion. After all, who is perfect? By seeing our prophets as imperfect, the imperfections that we all have should be easier to accept. Was Joseph perfect? Heck no. I am sure that Emma was no piece of cake to live with and he like Emma had to make tremendous sacrifices in their lives.
What would destroy my testimony? If the book of mormon was found to be a forgery or a fraud, this would do it for me. But not that Joseph lied to his wife. He lied…what man or women has not lied on occasion when put between a rock and a hard place.
Comment by why me — March 28, 2006 @ 1:02 pm
Once the Spirit told me to marry my husband, I knew it was the right thing. Knowing about all his faults and baggage was not necessary to know he was the right guy for me. The Spirit has told me JS was a prophet. To know truth does not mean I need to seek out information (that may not always be true anyway) about his baggage. All I really need to know is that he was a prophet. I actually believe that reading too much of history to “know truth” can be extremely distracting, and potentially dangerous. It’s also an opportunity cost. My personal preference (and I realize this is personal) is to spend more of my time and energy learning more about the doctrine — truth that matters more to me. I do not believe “the truth shall make you free” necessarily means we should be seeking to find out all the bad stuff from our history. And I don’t think the Church owes us this information. It’s enough to know JS was a prophet. The truths that matter flow from the Restoration, not from little-known stuff of history. If that interests you, great. But it’s not necessary for everyone. And I don’t believe that is a sign of weakness.
Comment by mullingandmusing — March 28, 2006 @ 3:05 pm
i love searching out truth in doctrine, but I don’t share the love of finding truth in history. I just don’t know what to believe, and the evidence is conflicting or 2nd hand so often anyway.
My mind quickly leaps to “somebody’s lying here and we’ll never know who” or “the devil could have planted this info to make it look bad and I’d never know I was brought to a false conclusion”
Hopefully in the next life I can ask these folks to tell me like it really happened.
Comment by cchrissyy — March 28, 2006 @ 5:39 pm
yeah, but…is the greatness of the message only allowed to come through pristine people?? MLK Jr. certainly gave a message that was greater than himself (another philanderer, reportedly). Philanderers, lyers, and cheats can be open to God, too…and hopefully they get the chance to change the course of their lives before they pass to the next.
Comment by pele — March 28, 2006 @ 5:40 pm
I was just referred to this blog by a good friend when I asked for her opinion about “In Sacred Loneliness.” I very much enjoyed all the comments. It’s gratifying to see that there is such a wide variety of opinion among faithful LDS people.
Ever since I converted to the church 10 yrs ago, I have been interested in learning more about Emma. I began by reading simple biographies written and published by Church-approved sources. Those were a good beginning for me, but I felt that there was more to know. After a few years I read “Mormon Enigma” and felt that I was finally seeing both Emma and Joseph as more three-dimensional people. Yes, it was a little difficult to finally read about some of the failings or frailties - or simple human traits - of Emma and Joseph as well as Brigham and others.
I believe that this less-edited knowledge base has strengthened rather than weakened my testimony. Knowing that the leaders of the Restoration were as human as anyone else teaches me that this Church truly is of God and that it is He Who has brought this work to pass, not some remarkably talented or wily or convincing human acting on his own behalf. What I have learned (and will continue to learn) about the history of the Church assures me that God’s purposes cannot be thwarted, no matter what his “agents” may or may not do. It also reassures me that even someone as imperfect as I am can be of use in God’s great plan.
It concerns me sometimes that we seem to get such a “sanitized” version of church history. No one is perfect in this life, no one makes the right decision 100% of the time, or for the right reasons. I’m also sometimes puzzled that the Principle of plural marriage seems rarely to be mentioned in the present day, except when stupid TV shows make a mockery of it and we’re driven to defend the practice and everything related to it as sacred. It’s not something to be ashamed of or to hide. It’s part of who we are.
That said, I do not often recommend “Mormon Enigma” to someone who tells me they want to learn more about Emma. I try to determine what the person really wants to know. There are certain people in my ward to whom I would NEVER even mention “M.E.” Perhaps I’ve seen how wobbly their testimony is, for example, or perhaps they’re just expressing a passing curiosity about Emma rather than a real desire to KNOW her. I usually suggest one of the simpler stories to start with. If the person comes back to me with more questions or wants to discuss what they’ve read, in other words if they show a real interest in the subject, then I show them what else I have read and see what they’re interested in. So it depends.
I’ve been curious about “In Sacred Loneliness” for some time now. I plan to have a look at it, see how the author’s tone strikes me and how I feel as I begin to read. I believe I’m at a point where knowledge won’t hurt me and probably will help me, if what I’m reading rings TRUE. If it doesn’t, or if it seems that the author has an ax to grind, I will probably set it aside and move on.
Anyway, I appreciate everyone’s comments here, and my friend’s recommendation that I come have a read. Thanks!
Comment by Nancy — March 28, 2006 @ 6:09 pm
Queno said,
Queno, while I heartily agree with what I understand to be your point–that stuffing arcane knowledge into our brains isn’t sufficient for religion or salvation–as a nursery leader pursuing a Ph.D., I have to raise a quibble about your example. In discussions of the limits of intellectual pursuits, I often see the figure of the woman with children invoked, the mother or nursery leader who truly lives the gospel, even if she doesn’t read anything not published by a phrophet. It’s true that there are many great women who devote themselves to worthy nonintellectual pursuits pursuits, and it’s also true that intense involvement with young children can make intellectual pursuits (or any pursuits beyond wiping doorknobs, as FMHLisa puts it), very difficult. But there are also great men who don’t much care for intellectual pursuits or who are simply so busy supporting their families and fulfilling their church callings that they don’t have much time for them, either. Just once I’d like to hear about a kind, sweet brother working in the nursery who never bothers his head about such matters but who lives the gospel so purely he’ll lead the rest of us into heaven.
Not to say this is what you’re implying, but I’m uncomfortable with the gendered opposition between (male) abstract religious knowledge and (female) on-the-ground religious practice. I’m uncomfortable with both the opposition and the gendering. We need a broader vision of femininity, one that isn’t constantly opposed to intellectual pursuits, and we also need a vision in which religious practice and abstract religious knowledge inform one another.
And for what it’s worth, I tend to agree with your reservations about a Ph.D. in doctrine as a model for religious knowledge. Although it undoubtedly includes the intellectual, religious knowledge is a far more comprehensive, experiential, embodied kind of knowledge than the kind obtained from Ph.D. programs–much as I obviously value that kind as well.
Comment by Eve — March 28, 2006 @ 9:02 pm
fmhLisa–Thanks for your post. I quite like it.
An in-law once mentioned to me that I should read/view nothing that made me feel bad–sad, hopeless, etc–because such feelings are incompatible with the Spirit. Alarmingly, she proferred this advice during a discussion regarding slavery. She told me that it is enough to read the barest facts in a history book and then move on, never obsessing about the details b/c they are satan’s playground. Nothing another Mormon has ever said to me frightened me as much as this. Nothing seems more stagnating than equating pleasantness with truth and virtue.
It troubled me in part because I embrace humanity’s messiness with a full heart. I believe in “looking out for” members for whom ISL would represent a real trial either because their faith is too new or b/c they simply don’t have personalities drawn to doctrinal entropy. I can respect that different saints require different truths, represented differently (excusing of course the obviously necessary truths and ordinances) and at different times. I’m not on a history read-a-thon myself these days, too consumed am I by troubles in the present tense.
On the flip side, sorrow seems to consecrate love in a way pschyo-pep squad cheeriness does not. To love and to BELIEVE in the face of difficulty, doubt, even despair–I think it makes us gentler. Understanding that prophets are like we are, necessarily flawed, seems a kind thing to me. I think it’s fine to feel uncomfortable about prophets’ flaws–I’m sure they’re discomfitted by their human state as well. Sin is supposed to discomfit us, but not necessarily make us uncomfortable around sinners (hey, we all fall into that one).
Maybe worshipping with rapists and thieves is easier if you realize even the greatest people around have struggles? Of course the humanity still troubles and pains us (strains of Bartleby the Scribner here), but that’s good. If we still look up to heaven and level at each other. It’s late. I do babble on. Forgive me for wordiness, but your post touched me deeply.
Comment by Janet — March 29, 2006 @ 12:09 am
I loved this post. I’ve been thinking of these themes lately what with Big Love and Dooce’s latest post.
I also just blogged about my feelings on that front, but here let me share a lesson I learned in college.
I went to BYU and while there I got to be a real arrogant sonofagun. I grew up in a totally unsheltered environment, addressing all the hard parts of the gospel, the tragic histories, the well-intentioned mistakes, and when I got to BYU and saw all my fellow students … well, to put it plainly, I thought that I was a much better member than any of them.
I thought that all these clean-scrubbed smiley cheerleaders were fakes and sheep. That they were blind to the realities of the world and content to live in an artificial environment that had no room for anyone who didn’t fit into a jello mold.
And some of those judgements of some of those people might have been accurate. But certainly not all of them. One day one of my professors who I was very close to talked to me about my future. He told me that one day I would probably wish I was more like all the sheep I saw around me. Because the sheep never stray.
There are many many reasons to seek out the truth and stretch our comfort zones. I loved what people said about finding Joseph Smith much more relatable as a flawed human being than as a perfect prophet. And I truly loved what Janet said:
But ultimately, the baseline of our testimonies must be founded on Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father. So when all the political complexities crowd in to try to distract us from that, we just have to push them away and have faith that once we understand the world better, once we understand the church better, things will make sense.
That means that we do have to strive to understand the church better, through study and research and asking the tough questions, and to understand the world better through study and research and asking the tough questions, until we reach a point where we need to retreat to the baseline again and let it all gel.
So to my mind, we have to strive for a balance. There should be seasons where we stretch, and seasons where we rest. If we’re always doing either one than there will be no growth. I think instead we need to cycle through our efforts to create one eternal round, so to speak.
Comment by Reese — March 29, 2006 @ 3:02 am
I like to use the allegory of Zenos with regard to the balance that Reese mentioned. Our roots have to be paramount. If the branches outgrow the roots, we are in trouble. We should focus a lot of energy and effort keeping our roots firm, and then branch study for those who want to do it can be done with a firm foundation and ability to let things go when things don’t make sense. I’ve seen people lose their testimonies because science or history or whatever don’t seem to be reconcilable with Church doctrine, and the tree topples over because the branches became the focus.
Comment by mullingandmusing — March 29, 2006 @ 4:32 pm
Janet (#25)–It’s telling that your in-law’s claim that we should avoid reading that makes us feel bad would rule out parts of the Book of Mormon (warfare, blood feuds, rape, and cannibalism) and the Old Testament (deception, sodomy, incest, slavery, outright genocide) at the very least, and probably other scripture as well (the Apocalypse, perhaps?).
Comment by Eve — March 29, 2006 @ 8:57 pm
I love this thread. I have loved reading every single contribution and I look forward to reading more of them. I’m a person who really has a problem saying (or hearing) “I know the church is true” because, to me, faith is not and can never be knowledge, and we aren’t required or expected to have knowledge in this life. It almost seems dishonest to me to say, for instance, “I know Jesus Christ is the son of God,” when I can only rely on the first-hand accounts of others. Joseph Smith could say it; he saw them. But how can I?
To me, there is something beautiful about believing, trusting, hoping, without knowing. At its heart, that is what a testimony is about. All of the evidence in the world won’t convince someone of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. That has to come from a deeper place. I think in some strange way it goes hand-in-hand with free agency. We have to decide to believe. It is a choice. And isn’t there something undeniably powerful about that?
Comment by Quimby — March 29, 2006 @ 11:08 pm
Quimby….doesn’t Alma teach that knowledge can come by degrees about certain things, thought?
I really like your insights about agency. Very powerful, indeed!
Comment by mullingandmusing — March 30, 2006 @ 1:59 am
One day one of my professors who I was very close to talked to me about my future. He told me that one day I would probably wish I was more like all the sheep I saw around me. Because the sheep never stray.
If you’ve ever actually worked with sheep, you’ll know that’s because they’re too stupid to do anything else.
My understanding is that the Savior wants disciples who follow him willingly by choice — not because they are too blind or stupid to realize that there is any other alternative.
And the fact that we are supposed to emulate sheep in one respect — following the Shepherd — doesn’t mean that we are to emulate sheep in every respect — e.g., stubborness, stupidity, herd mentality, lack of any common sense, etc., etc.
Comment by diogenes — March 30, 2006 @ 8:42 am
Mindi,
Bloggersnacker
Comment by fMhLisa (atmysistersgottago) — March 30, 2006 @ 10:00 am
diogenes,
Exactly. As I mentioned, my thinking that all BYU students are sheep was obviously an untrue and unrighteous judgement.
My professor was using this analogy to turn my judgement on it’s head.
Comment by Reese — March 30, 2006 @ 6:34 pm
Exactly. As I mentioned, my thinking that all BYU students are sheep was obviously an untrue and unrighteous judgement.
My professor was using this analogy to turn my judgement on it’s head.
Having spent a fair amount of time at BYU, I was assuming that your judgment was about 99.99% right on.
I was instead questioning your prof’s assertion that you were going to be sorry someday that you aren’t more sheepish. “Not straying” isn’t much of a recommendation when it’s due to a deficiency of intelligence or failure of perception, rather than to a conscious commitment.
(And in fact, sheep stray all over the place at every possible opportunity, so the analogy may not really be terribly apt.)
Comment by diogenes — March 30, 2006 @ 10:02 pm
heh heh. Well, I was trying to be kind to the BYU students.
My prof did turn out to be right. I have definately regretted not being “sheepish.” But the accurate definition of sheepish as from the scriptures - a loving, trusting follower of Christ, not as the slander I was trying to make it. And his analogy was based on my insult and the scriptures, not actual baa-baa sheep.
His point, when not summed up in a soundbite, was that the sheep don’t stray because they love the Master. Admittedly, some of the BYU students love something besides the Savior: the culture, or feeling self-righteous or elite, and that’s where the confusion of the terms come in. I was trying to insult the “followers” and he was trying to get me to respect the followers. Am I making any more sense this time?
Because I was judging everyone at BYU who happened to keep the commandments, that meant I was making no distinctions between the sheep of Christ’s fold and the lemmings who followed the fads. He was trying to get me to respect those who followed Christ and yet still didn’t want to deal with some of the more controversial aspects of church membership. They still have their virtues.
I never for one moment suspected my prof was counciling me to be stubborn, stupid, follow the herd, or lack common sense, (and maybe it never occuring to us comes from my prof and I both being city folk and never working with sheep) but to let love of the Master be my foremost motivation.
For example, I have a family member who stopped going to the temple because she and her husband made so much fun of the “cheesy movie” (her words) that eventually she chased the Spirit right out of her temple attendance. If Love of the Master motivated her more than sarcasm and being too cool for school, then that never would have happened.
When I went on a tirade about my fellow students, I was letting my pride, self-righteousness, and cruelty take precedent over my love for the Master by not following his example to love my brother.
I think there are times when “not straying” definately has it’s advantages, no matter what motivates it. Because it keeps you from making permanent mistakes during what could be a temporary situation. Since this conversation is about facing the hard parts of the gospel - doctrine, history, what have you - and the spiritual consequences that might have, I didn’t bring up this analogy to say we should get down on all fours and start eating grass, but to say that sometimes avoiding these hard parts is not terrible. To point out that someone who never studies church history but still loves the Savior and follows the teachings of the prophets is still someone to be admired because they won’t fall away from the church. They might be denying themselves further light and knowledge, but they won’t fall away.
In that respect, I’m not sheepish. I have to know everything, know it now, analyze it, interpret it, compile a list of everything else I know, see how it fits in, sit back for a while and watch the fruits of this knowledge before I decide how I feel about it. So yeah, I definately wish I was more sheepish. There are times when I would love to just shrug and say, “I love the Lord and I trust Him to lead me.” and leave it at that, but I don’t leave it at that.
And when ‘not straying’ has eternal salvation on the line, I think there is much to recommend it.
Comment by Reese — March 31, 2006 @ 6:16 am