Choosing yardsticks

Prayer was the yardstick by which my wife and I each decided to marry. And I recommend it as the most important factor for faithful Latter-day Saints when considering such a decision. However, prayer comes in a lot of different flavors and qualities, and you'll only want the best for this endeavor!

A suitable prayer will involve studying it out in your mind beforehand. This probably involves dating for an extended period of time (none of this falling in love in two weeks flat that I've heard about!). You'll want to know how your partner reacts in a wide variety of circumstances and situations. You'll need to talk explicitly about financial philosophies, ideal family size, gender roles, commitment to the church. When a snag comes up, see whether and how you can deal with it together. The way you play off of each other, the way you can give and take, is really important since a good marriage requires a lot of that.

One "yardstick" I arbitrarily chose for myself was that my wife would need to make me want to be a better person. When my actual wife came along, I thought she failed that test since she didn't really give a flying flip whether I swore or watched R-rated movies. I thought, she doesn't care if I'm EVIL! But, she was fun to be with and look at, so I kept her around. ;-) Eventually I realized that in all the important ways, she does make me want to be a better person. Thanks to her support, I'm becoming the best doctor possible, the best father possible, the best husband, and even a more righteous person. Her patience and support has known no bounds. It's so humbling to think about that my gratitude actually makes me choked up just thinking about it. Anyway, I'm glad I didn't hold too tight to that one arbitrary yardstick (although some version of it is probably good).

There are a couple approaches I've seen recommended for making big decisions. One is to trust the intial flash of insight you get when you overall consider some complex issue. The research on this one is pretty interesting. Another approach is to do actual research yourself--to have the humility to consider that there's a lot of wisdom in the world that you can benefit from. For example, parenting is a scary thing, but it's been done before. If you want to be a good parent, one trick is to actually read a bit about what's worked well for others. You'd be amazed at the data easily available to people, and amazed at the scarcity of parents who give that data any regard.

In the case of marriage, there are gazillions of books available. In the case of mixed orientation marriage, there are some. In the case of LDS MOM, there are few. But, what advice exists ought to be appreciated. The higher the stakes, the more important it is to really be as informed as possible. However, each data point is only a data point. I'm not a fan of turning over life's most important decisions to "the authorities," but neither am I a fan of turning up one's nose at those authorities.

Taking one's mass of experience and information into consideration, one is more prepared to present the issue to the Lord. Even then, it may be hard to open the quality of communication desirable if one is out of the habit of praying or not keeping one's church covenants. Prayer's effectiveness falls outside of the realm of science to measure, in my opinion, and will depend on the faith and faithfulness of the individual (which can never be suitably quantified for comparison). The manual on prayer isn't a scientific one, it's the scriptures. And even more data can be had through the scriptures, so it's a good idea to make scripture reading a part of one's investigation too.

In my opinion, the most important decision I've made in my life was to marry my sweet wife. Left to my own doubts and second-guessing, I may not have done it. But I prayed about it and the answer was affirmative. Since God knows me better than I know myself, I got married. Now I believe my job is to never look back and to make all my thoughts and efforts focused on making it work rather than reconsidering indefinitely what I need or where I'll be happiest. It's one place I think the Savior's advice applies about finding your life through losing it. The results of my decision to marry, and my efforts to make it work, will have "infinite and eternal" ramifications. It makes me glad to think I trusted God.

Rational faith 2: Spirituality

Despite the undeniable utility of scientific inquiry, it is largely inadequate to answer spiritual questions-questions that are arguably the most important ones we face. While science can tell me how best to reach a certain objective or what to expect from the natural world, it can't transcend the natural world to provide answers about meaning and purpose.

This observation is no indictment of science. It's just how things are. If we trace back natural laws to moments after the Big Bang, we find that they suddenly fail to hold. Laws we typically accept as fact are broken, it seems. We can no longer use our conventional tools to answer important questions. What was before the big bang? What is smaller than a quark (or insert the latest vogue subatomic particle)? What is past the edge of the universe? ... all seem out of reach. Even granting the theoretical ability to answer those specific questions, there will ALWAYS be something out of provable reach, as Gödel has gone ahead and shown. Let me say it again: on the most fundamental level, there will always be something just out of the reach of observation, measurement, and even logic.

One may choose to be satisfied with these limitations, but I'm prone to believe that there is a fully spiritual aspect to my humanity, and that addressing it may transcend those limitations. Maybe it just requires a different approach. I hunger for meaning and spiritual knowledge. How I find that spiritual information is still subject to rational processes but is not subject to all the assumptions of science (and therefore may not be subject to all its limitations).

Many are quick to point to the widely disparate conclusions drawn by those pursuing spirituality. They conclude that none of those spiritual views have any merit over the others. This is invalid. I believe that some spiritual conclusions are right, and some are wrong. Some are incomplete or inferior. And some are supernal and real. Faulting spirituality for its non-demonstrable nature shows a misunderstanding of the rules of the game, and denying that reason plays a role is equally incorrect. We ought to have respect for differing views without accepting them all as having equal merit. Some spiritual views are irrational, yes. But calling all spirituality irrational is a fallacy of generalization.

There are admittedly many perils inherent in any subjective process, but those perils can take you in opposite directions. I've met folks who interpret Mary's face on a piece of toasted cheese to be a sign from God, and although I can't rule that out, I agree with those who note such random "signs" will happen with certain regularity over time based on probability alone. On the other hand, categorically dismissing spirituality as the result of misinterpretation of coincidence in all cases is unjustified. A rational person will recognize that the existence of such misinterpretation and coincidence does not rule out the discovery of genuine spiritual information in some cases. That is, there are both real and mistaken spiritual experiences, and one's discovery of the existence of the latter shouldn't lead one to fallaciously generalize all spiritual experiences by all people to that group.

The notion that an all-powerful Father in Heaven has created this universe and our souls for purposes that can only be partially represented to our mortal minds as "joy" and "exaltation" establishes a framework from which to understand our spiritual world. The scenario is fleshed out quite reasonably and rationally with an explanation that God's interactions with man are limited and indirect because those circumstances are necessary for development of a righteous will and maturation of a divine nature. Further, the idea that God provides information through a nuanced combination of personal revelation and authoritative messengers makes a lot of sense.

Spiritual inquiry necessarily uses reason and logic, but expands acceptable working data past what is reproducible and demonstrable. Clinical trials and retrospective analysis are key for discovering and believing what can't be overtly proven (and must therefore be based on faith). But the data turned up by such analysis can only be personally appreciated, and may therefore get a lot of scorn from those who have had a vastly different personal spiritual experience and have no context to appreciate an individual's specifics.

Spiritual truths are most immediately meaningful for what they tell us about living life abundantly, finding joy, and being filled with other divine attributes like love. Spiritual inquiry, because of its subjective nature, is often condemned for its non-reproducibility. But this non-reproducibility is expected within the context of a personal spiritual journey in which transcendental truths are available on a need-to-know-when-you're-ready basis. So, ultimately, it comes down to each individual and his or her own experience. And my experience tells me that spiritual inquiry has been extremely successful in my life in providing meaning and purpose. It has been extremely successful in making the people I admire into the people that they are. It has been extremely successful in predicting what will make me happy and help me flourish. Basically, I like spiritual inquiry because it works really well.

Index to series:
Rational faith 1: Science
Rational faith 2: Spirituality
Rational faith 3: Grand unifying theory
Rational faith 4: Creative calculus
Rational faith 5: Wrap up

Institutions

I was listening to the radio over the weekend and heard some scholarly pundit talking about reformations and how all major world religions go through them occasionally. As one example he suggested Jesus accomplished such a reformation with his central message that spirituality and peace come from the individual and not through an institution (i.e. the Pharisees). Apparently the Sermon on the Mount was a mere footnote to Jesus' larger aspirations to stick it to the man.

When people talk about the divinity of the LDS church, people align predictably according to their testimonies and interpret any measures of institutional success or failure in that context. The faults of the church are attributed to imperfect men (just as in the Book of Mormon) by faithful church members while opponents attribute problems to systemic flaws. Whether the structure, programs, or institutional practices of the church are divine is debatable even within a faithful paradigm. God, it seems to me, doesn't typically micromanage.

Regardless, the very common idea that no institution has a right to stand between me and my God only makes sense if my God agrees. Many Gods, being the invention of their respective believers, don't have any problem with an ad hoc connection and ad hoc salvation. The Mormon God, however, prefers a more orderly approach to salvation. Authority, ordinances, and structure are just a part of the deal, like it or not.

This all came to my mind with some immediacy recently when I attended the temple. I was thinking about prophets and having a church or other men or anything, really, between me and God. To my surprise, the words of the temple ceremony became surprisingly and pointedly relevant. The dialog reminded me of how much I don't know and how reliant I am on God to teach me in His own way according to His own wisdom. Although I'm a big fan of personal responsibility and a personal relationship with the Savior, I, for one, am grateful for the Lord's institutions and believe reformations should accomplish a balance rather than swinging too far in the opposite direction.

9/11

I watched United 93 a couple nights ago. It was a powerful movie. There is one scene in which several of the passengers in the rear of the plane are muttering the Lord's Prayer while the pilots are muttering Islamic prayers up front. It's powerful and disturbing. It's a caution.

I usually think it's easy to distinguish between good and bad religion, but I'm not so confident all the time. A popular technique is to measure it against what you know to be good or bad independent of that religion, but I think that only takes you so far. Sometimes what's good seems bad and what's bad seems good. And apparently I'm siding with terrorists here. (I don't really know much about it.) And that's the scary part (dangerous, if you prefer).

I've blogged before about such departures from what you might expect God to advocate. Perhaps one distinction is that when God does depart from what you would expect of Him, He only does it through prophets. So maybe Moses or Abraham or Joseph Smith or another prophet can give unexpected directions from God, but you can't kneel down and pray and determine that your own little boy is the Messiah and that you should therefore starve him (as one couple did in Utah several years ago).

But, there are those false prophets, so the responsibility comes right back at you. I remember being invited to hear a prophet speak on my mission. It was quite odd believing, as I do, that there are prophets, but that whoever the speaker in question was, he wasn't one of them and was therefore a false prophet. You judge a system of belief by your feelings, your feelings should be guided by what you know to be good and true already, and then specific problems in life are judged by consistency with that belief system. But feelings are unreliable, what is good and true can be excepted by God, and the complexity of life makes for frequent inconsistencies.

And yet, at the end of the day I feel fine about knowing the church is true, how I came to that knowledge, and the unexpected sacrifices that knowledge compels me to make.

It's a topic I don't really get. One of many. I think my mind makes it too broad and can't quite chew on all of it at once. I just cling to the little I know because it feels right enough to guide my everyday actions.

Theology, etc.

I listened to the radio interview of Nielsen suggested by JD in yesterday's comments and was surprised to hear how much I like Nielsen. I mean, I didn't dislike him before (despite my flippant post tone), but he really appeals to me for his insights, his quick concessions on certain points, and his humility. I wasn't expecting the humility. I had him down as more of a martyr whistle-blower, confident in his pious sacrifice. I like to believe he and I would be great friends if given the chance (not -L-, but the quite distinct real person who masquerades as -L- online).

But then, on the other hand, I think I pegged him pretty well yesterday. I think the root problem with his view is that he doesn't believe the leadership of the church really has much relationship to God's will. He tries to make a distinction between criticizing theology and criticizing the politics of the church, but God is just as much an expert on politics as he is on theology.

Nielsen made an interesting reference to Jewish friends who aren't big fans of Noah because of his unhesitating acceptance that God was going to destroy the world with a flood. They are bigger fans of Moses, who actually argued with God a little more as an advocate for Israel. I really like that thought. And I recognize (and I think I've said so) that leaders aren't micro-managed by God on every issue and that the specifics are often subject to the limitations of an individual's ability to implement guidance on that issue. But while Nielsen calls for greater transparency and information sharing on the part of all organizations (which I can whole-heartedly applaud in the context of management positions I've held in the past), he seems not to understand that the organization of God's church--including ranked leadership and a certain lack of divine transparency--was God's own design.

Do we know then that Hinckley hasn't gone to blows with God regarding gay marriage? Do we know that he doesn't have deeply loving and ambivalent feelings for how gays can find some measure of happiness, but that his efforts ultimately ended with God laying down the law? How can we ever be certain that an "open dialog" about moral issues is supposed to end if we don't accept the prophet's final word on the subject?

I repeat my conjecture that "moral reciprocity" has already had every consideration in the private debates among the brethren. And I tentatively think there is no subject that doesn't have relevance to theology, politics or otherwise. I think it's central to truly believing the LDS church to believe that prophets truly speak for God.

How do you know?

A frequent refrain on this blog is the contrast between what seems to make sense about accepting one's sexuality and the tension I feel because of my understanding of what God expects of us. I acknowledge there are many worldviews that good people hold on the topic, but I also feel almost apologetic in asserting that I still think any particular lovely worldview may have no basis in reality. I'm bound by the truth that I know, and despite plenty of compelling arguments as to why my life would be better, more peaceful, and more satisfying heading down a different road, I don't think it's ultimately true.

The investigation is a balance between constant re-evaluation and learning, and not conceding what I already know. And, unfortunately, it's fraught with potential for misunderstandings and offense. I've posted obliquely about how there's an interplay between knowledge and faith, certitude and unsupported confidence, but the question always seems to return: how do you know? One small part of the puzzle is living prophets. I find comfort in prophetic guidance when I see so many people making different decisions for their lives in the name of being true to themselves. It's a bit of a puzzle to know how to respond when people claim to have reached an entirely different God-sanctioned direction for themselves than I think God has indicated is appropriate.

The interplay between rationality and faith, between personal confidence and informed skepticism, is always tricky. I think I'm on the right track even while I note what I think are mistakes in the approaches of others. Many apologies for the indecency of assessing such a thing. I know some will take it to be judgmental, but I find it a decidedly important part of determining how to live one's life (and how not to). In terms of revelation, I found the following information from an old professor of mine to be helpful:

Joseph Smith taught early in his ministry that God has a system, an order by which he communicates with his children and with his prophets; that to claim to receive revelation which in fact does not come from God, to speak in the name of the Lord when one is not authorized to do so, is essentially to take the name of the Lord God in vain ( Doctrine and Covenants 63:62). Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who have studied the tenets of their faith and the principles and doctrines associated therewith have come to know that:

• A person claiming a revelation from God must be acting within the realm of his or her own stewardship. That is, one may receive revelation from God for himself or for those under his charge, but “it is contrary to the economy of God for any member of the Church, or anyone, to receive instruction for those in authority, higher than themselves” (TPJS, 21). In short, the early Saints learned that “revelations of the mind and will of God to the Church, are to come through the [First] Presidency. This is the order of heaven and the power and privilege of this Priesthood. It is also the privilege of any officer in this Church to obtain revelations, so far as relates to his particular calling and duty in the Church” (TPJS, 111).
• A person claiming a revelation from God should be worthy to receive the same. That is, he or she must be living a life that is in keeping with the standards of the Church, must be in good standing before God and God’s people.
• A supposed revelation must be in harmony with the teachings of scripture, prophets, and the law and order of the Church. If, for example, someone were to come to me and indicate that she had received a revelation to be dishonest in order to improve her financial situation, I would know at once that such a solution, though practical, was not inspired. If a person were to say to me that God had instructed him that the Church should go in a different direction entirely and that he was the one to lead the Church in that direction, I would know that the purported oracle was not of God. What, then, about such unusual scriptural commands as Abraham being asked to sacrifice Isaac? My suggestion has always been that we as rank-and-file members abide by the rules and leave the exceptions to the called and ordained prophets. A modern apostle, Boyd K. Packer, observed that “there are those who claim authority from some secret ordinations of the past. Even now some claim special revealed authority to lead or to teach the people. ... “There have been ... too many ordinations and settings apart performed before too many witnesses; there have been too many records kept, too many certificates prepared, and too many pictures published in too many places for any one to be deceived as to who holds proper authority. Claims of special revelation or secret authority from the Lord or from the Brethren are false on the face of them and really utter nonsense!” (CR, Apr. 1985, 43; see also Doctrine and Covenants 42:11).
• The revelation will build one’s faith in Jesus Christ, in the Church and kingdom, and in the constituted authorities of the Church. That is to say, God will not work against himself
  
  
  -Robert L. Millet