Thursday, March 26, 2009

Young women values part 1: Faith

"Faith is belief in things which are not seen, but which are true." --Bible dictionary

In my college class, I taught freshmen about begging the question. Contrary to popular belief, it does not mean "it's as if the issue is begging us to ask this question!" It means a circular logic, a conclusion inherent in one or more of the premises.

I remember sitting in my mia maid class, discussing faith. The teacher said that we could not have faith in things like UFOs, because it's simply not true. Faith is belief in things which are not seen, but which are true. I tried to argue that if UFO fanatics believed it was true, than it was still faith. My teacher was a bit upset with me as I argued the definition, and she assured me that faith can only be in true invisible things, like god.

We also discussed how we could not have faith if we had a perfect knowledge. The prophets no longer had faith in god because they had a personal knowledge of him. I was also told on a number of occasions that the reason there is not incontrovertible proof for the Book of Mormon is because then god would take away faith from us. It is necessary for us to believe WITHOUT that knowledge. "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believed." The act of faith without knowledge is necessary for our salvation, a kind of benevolent gnosticism.

Faith is belief in things which are not seen, things like history, things like the testimony of others. Faith that Joseph Smith is a prophet, faith that the Book of Mormon is true. These are the two most important cornerstones of our religion. Invisible but true. The problem is the church asks more: belief in things which are not seen and demonstrably false. The Book of Mormon can be proven false on several different fronts, linguistic, historical, biological. Joseph Smith has been proven dishonest, misleading, and self-serving. So, faith is irrational belief in the face of overwhelming contrary evidence.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Entitlement

The idea was popular in 17th century England: the Protestants must be right because they suffered so much. Truth in Areopagitica, a political tract by Milton, is hewn into a thousand pieces and scattered to the four winds. Not only is Truth tortured, she is Truth BECAUSE she is tortured. Martyrology goes hand-in-hand with an apocolyptic mindset: the end is coming because -look!- everything is so bad.

The worst thing about the concept of martyrology is the sense of entitlement it grants to its proponents. I'll use the mormon church as an example, just because I am so intimately aquanted with it. Mormons are, from birth, imbued with the sense of being a peculiar people (just as a side note, the word peculiar comes from an English tax, and that which was taken was understood as "belonging to the king"--see, do you see how it connects?), a fact that they are proud of. Different is good and essential. Don't you see what a horrible place the world has become?? However, the problem comes in opposition to the accepted and sanctioned mindset. It doesn't matter what is proposed to followers of the mormon church; the fact that there is such a huge "anti" mormon movement PROVES that the church is true. If it weren't true, people wouldn't devote their lives to arguing against it. There is no way to argue with a position like that. No matter how articulate, convincing, and/or aggressive opposition becomes, the faithful gather together in the sure knowledge that what they believe is true because there is so much loud evidence to the contrary.

Cougars don't cut corners

From my time at UCF:

So, today I walked across the grass on campus with a smug sense of satisfaction. My building is right next to the parking garage, but the sidewalk does not cut a direct path; it kinda sneaks over at right angles instead of just making a diagonal beeline for my office (inconsiderate sidewalk builders). While I see other people cutting through the grass (and really, it's an aggrandizing stretch to call it such. Florida doesn't have grass; we have greenish weeds of various colors that make their hetrogenous way across open spaces, mostly covering the ground. Or in really ritzy areas, you have this astroturf looking stuff that feels... wrong... in some unfathomable, turning the world on its end way), I can't walk on the grass becauseI couldn't while I was at BYU. Each and every time I did--I think it was twice--I got the speech from one or more pedestrians that "cougars don't cut corners," --the cougar is the mascot-- referring, no doubt, to the fact that BYU is known for its moral code and general uprightness (as my friend pointed out today, however, cougars do in fact cut corners. Wildcats don't follow clearly designated walking areas). So, I felt a little naughty, like I was getting away with something, as I made my precarious way through the grass, avoiding things like small holes and squirrels. But it felt good. And I think I will do it again.

CTR part 2

This choice is also inherent in the fact that you are a mormon at all. The church teaches that those who are here on earth chose to keep their first estate, that is, they chose before coming down to earth to follow god. And those who are members of the church are the ones who chose the most right in the pre-existence.

The T stands for the. While this might not seem like something I could spend my time analyzing—never underestimate my powers of over analysis!—it is actually the most important word in the whole initialism. In my first waitressing job, we had a whole hour and a half of training where we went over the restaurants mission statement. Our mission statement had something to do with good food and better service, but my manager spent the most time on the fact that we didn't want to be one of the best restaurants in the area; we wanted to be the best restaurant in the area. No namby-pambying around for us. The definite article in both my old job's mission statement and also the religious initialism designates both primacy and supremacy of that which follows. The church acknowledges no relativism. There is not any "everyone finds different paths to god" or "I don't believe like you do, but your life makes you happy and that is great." Oh no. The use of the definite article removes any wavering, any luffing. There is no other right. There is one right that works for each and every individual on the face of the planet. (Non members often comment on the uniformity—physical, psychological, spiritual—of members.) There is one baptism, one church, one method of worship. And that which is not the right is wrong.

The R stands for right. I could make a deviation here into the political right of both the church and its policies and practices, but I won't. Not only am I not politically inclined, but I think that may be a stretch, even for new historicism. The right is that which members of the church are striving for. And as I discussed earlier, there are not rights: there is one and only one right. That right makes it possible for all the girls in your class to set the same set of five goals for that week. That right makes it possible for everyone in every circumstance to be required to fulfill the same obligations. All must pass through the same portals, both in the mortal world and the world to come.

The predominance of this right also makes it unnecessary to explore, explain, or analyze either its limits or its alternatives. Members are neither encouraged nor permitted to intellectually explore the bounds of the right; the nature of the right is all-encompassing, and it therefore has no bounds. There is nothing outside the right of the church, so you are not to look. Anything that is said outside the right is wrong and is satan trying to deceive you.

New Historicism and the CTR ring

Those of you familiar with the Mormon culture know about the CTR ring. When you are eight, the sunday school class you are put into is named after the ring that you get upon its completion. The CTR ring is the most recognized esoteric symbol of the Mormon culture; it is a way of mormons recognizing each other without the proclamation of faith (which, if you know any mormons, will often happen anyway). The ring that these eight year olds get is a cheap, sizable ring that has the letters CTR set on a green shield; the initialism stands for "Choose the Right," one of those catch phrases of the religion.

So, looking at this object from a new historicist slant: By making the ring an initialism (like an acronym. In an acronym, you say the letters like a word, like radar or laser or NASA. An initialism you name every letter in the "word"), the knowledge is necessarily esoteric. You only know what CTR means if you are already interpolated into the culture.

The C stands for choose. The possibility of choice and individual power is central to the faith. As a descendant of puritan and protestantism, Mormonism makes the individual and individual choice central in the relationship to deity (if you are not as close to God as you want to be, it is because you chose to move away from him). This choice is also inherent in the way that callings are issued within the body of the church. With no paid (or formally--or often informally--trained) clergy, it becomes necessary to find some other means of recruiting member participation. In mormonism, this translates to fulfilling your calling. Members are taught from a young age that part of your duties as a faithful saint is to accept callings from the church to be president or teacher of a class, or to be on a committee. You choose to accept these callings (I mean, you are asked, given a choice), but not accepting a calling is largely looked down upon.

Juvenile religion

I love my four-year-old nephew. He is adorable and sweet and fun and all those other things that ensure a child's survival when balanced against their incredible powers of annoyance. This nephew hates church. I mean he hates everything about it. He hates the clothes, the shoes, he hates the classes, the singing, the sitting.

Last week, and this week, I had conversations with him about it.
Me: "How was church?"
Him: "Stupid."
"Did you learn anything?"
"No."
"Did you talk about Jesus?"
"I don't know."
"Did you like it?"
"It was stupid."
"Stupid like how?"
"stupid like blah blah blah."

I am starting to think that all little kids are atheists, and that it is cruel and unusual to expect a four year old to sit still for three hours of church. I am not against children and religion, but I don't think that all kids are made for it. Like not all adults are made for it. And all this stuff about innate religion... I'm not sure I believe it.

A lot of people will say that it is intellectualism, studying the wrong things that will lead you out of the church. But it's not. Sometimes it just doesn't feel right. It doesn't fill what you need it to fill. Sometimes it's a nagging feeling that something is off, a natural urge to spend your time how you want to spend it, a feeling of uselessness when you go to church.

For me, it was the so-called intellectualism, the control of intellectual property which I believe should be free. But the church can be wrong in so many ways. Kind of comforting, truth be told.