Lately, for some reason, I have been feeling somewhat nostalgic for my past Mormon beliefs. For the certainty, the doctrinal structure, the quest to master gospel principles, to understand God's purposes for me and for this earth. It was so ingrained in me by years and years of study and thought that in spite of 4 years of being inactive it is still all there, waiting to pop up at a moment's notice. There is or was something about all of it that was very comforting to me; when I was feeling down about other things, I could always retreat into the security of my intellectual/spiritual world of doctrine.
One part of what I miss about the whole Mormon doctrinal structure is I think the sense of purpose and meaning that it gave to life. I was part of something big, something destined to change the world, something noble and outside of my petty personal interests. I confess that there is a part of me that is in love with the idea of the mass movement, of the big idea, of the great cause. I fear that, had I lived in a totalitarian state, I would have been an enthusiastic supporter, caught up in the idealism. On the other hand, I have always had a fear of living in a state like that, and have had recurring dreams about feeling trapped in such a world. So maybe I wouldn't be so evil as to be sucked in by a totalitarian ideal.
In any case, I realize that there a few problems with this idea of throwing oneself into a great cause, etc. For one, too often the great cause, the purity of vision of the ideal, ends up becoming so all-consuming and all-encompassing that it crushes all who stand its way, all who are too weak or too impure to carry it forward to its destiny. I remember Elder Bruce R McConkie's next-to-last General Conference talk called "The Caravan Moves On". I remember thrilling to the idea of being part of this great caravan that has set its back to the world and is facing straight on towards Zion, and is paying no heed to the snarling dogs snapping at our feet, etc. Now, when I think about it, I see another side of that metaphor...the caravan moves on all right, whether you're ready or not, and the mission seems to be more important than any of the potential messengers. It's lovely to keep the message pure, the mission glorious, but if you have to crush everyone or most everyone under the wheels in order to do it, I start to wonder about the real nobility of the supposed ideal/mission/whatever.
The other problem I see with the idea of throwing oneself into a great cause is that it often is a mask for a fear of real life. It's easy to run away from one's problems or from living in the mundane and boring here and now in order to pursue the great, noble cause. One can forget very easily about one's faults and never do anything to change them when one is consumed in the great cause. At the same time, it is very easy for one consumed in the great cause to trample over others in the name of the great cause...I mean, after all, I have a mission from God, and no one is going to stand in my way (I will go and do the thing that the Lord has commanded, even if it means slaying Laban, etc.) Or, I take my ideas about what needs to be done to achieve the great cause and proceed to force those ideas on everyone else, since obviously I am just following the inspiration I've received and I just have to get all those laggards to follow me, at least, or get out of the way. Again, the mission becomes more important than individuals (or maybe it's the ego of the missionary?)
Anyway, as I have said before, I think I am more comfortable now with the humility of doubt than I am with the old certainties.
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There's plenty of room for the humility of doubt from within the church. I think being honest about one's doubts is far superior to putting on a show of certainty where none really exists, and there's no question that that sometimes happens within Mormon culture.
I also like the metaphor of the caravan moving forward, but I don't really take it to be an endorsement of crushing those who get in the way or fall out of ranks... it's always disappointing to me to hear that perception of the church.
There are certainly a fair number of Mormons who are so self-assured that they want to force their beliefs on others (I'm related to a few who are borderline!), but that's certainly not an endorsed approach. Despite the idea that no unhallowed hand will stop the work from progressing, the progress will only come by persuasion and long-suffering, never by force. (Remember that whole Satan vs. Jesus in the pre-existence matchup?) Unrighteous dominion gets roundly criticized in the D&C.
I continue to really enjoy reading your posts.
Boy I can relate to this post. I have been mentally inactive for about a year now. I remember getting back from the mission and feeling like my life had lost meaning because I was no longer part of the "great caravan."
Now that I have almost completely left the caravan I am glad that I am not mindlessly, blindingly, crushing others under the wheels of "in the name of God." The greatest challenge for me is to find meaning in my life. I need to be involved in the world around me. I find that to be the most satisfying part of my life -when I feel like I am contributing to something greater than myself.
Great post Mark. It captures some familiar feelings.
These great causes can be tricky animals. I think they can also be found well into the secular world. They often do good, but are self-defending things as well, protecting themselves from a loss of members and from outside forces, and I think you’re right. History is filled with examples of happy and good people, who imagine they’ve surrendered their life to something greater, harming others in the process, and it still goes on.
To me, it’s helpful to keep in mind, though, most do believe they aren’t crushing or even coercing anyone, and/or they think that they’re doing what’s best for everyone, in the long run, even when we were literally crushing our causes’ heretics. But, unfortunately, flavors of such can be seen everywhere today, to my eye, from secular minority political movements to religious movements.
As for lack of meaning, I wish I knew better what to say. It may just be a matter of time. For me, meaning is inevitable, but quality must be built, though believing you had it from birth is certainly a tempting short rout to the feeling. Still, I’d not say anyone should give up all of their past great causes or purposes. I still keep a good deal of my LDS culture, though I’m not listening much to the wagon master :-).
Thanks for all of your comments. I don't mean to suggest that the LDS Church is alone or the worst offender in the matter of great causes crushing others on the way to victory. I mentioned in my post totalitarian states, which to me are probably the worst offenders: Nazi Germany, Stalinst Russia, Mao's China, especially during the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution. Still, it was Mormonism to which I gave my heart, so to speak, and while I again stress that I am not saying it is the worst by any means, there are things said some times by church leaders that leave me feeling that the cause is everything and too bad if some get crushed.
For example, let me introduce as Exhibit A the passage where Elder McConkie developed the great caravan metaphor (note especially the 2nd paragraph in the quote):
"The Church is like a great caravan—organized, prepared, following an appointed course, with its captains of tens and captains of hundreds all in place.
What does it matter if a few barking dogs snap at the heels of the weary travelers? Or that predators claim those few who fall by the way? The caravan moves on.
Is there a ravine to cross, a miry mud hole to pull through, a steep grade to climb? So be it. The oxen are strong and the teamsters wise. The caravan moves on.
Are there storms that rage along the way, floods that wash away the bridges, deserts to cross, and rivers to ford? Such is life in this fallen sphere. The caravan moves on.
Ahead is the celestial city, the eternal Zion of our God, where all who maintain their position in the caravan shall find food and drink and rest. Thank God that the caravan moves on!"
I suppose I pick on Elder McConkie because I idolized him. I always wanted to be absolutely rock solid in my conviction like he was. Actually, my impression is that he could in fact be quite patient and forgiving of others' mistakes and failings. But he did have an edge, at least in his preaching, that really gave no place for the weak who fell by the wayside.
I sometimes have felt that President Hinckley has expressed the same sentiment when he has talked about 'those few dissidents or weak ones' to loosely paraphrase him. In defending the church against those who say, look you have critics, his tendency is to minimize their impact and to more or less say, so what, so a few fall by the wayside, the great majority are loyal and true and stay in the church. What makes me uncomfortable about this is the parable of the good shepherd who goes after the one, leaving behind the 99. I was also a bit troubled when, at the Nauvoo Temple Dedication Broadcast, President Hinckley spoke at great length about Thomas Ford, and seemed to take great relish in the fact that this man died in poverty and misery; he had turned against the Saints, and he got what he deserved. There did not seem to be much of the spirit of forgiveness in that talk, and it troubled me.
And finally, there was that article by Elder Nelson in February 2003 in which he slammed the idea of God's unconditional love as a false doctrine. I can accept that the righteous might be entitled to receive greater blessings, but the idea that God loves the righteous more than the less righteous really bothered me. Again, it seemed to me to lead to an attitude of disregard for those who are weak or who sin or who fail to be as good as the strong and faithful, since God loves those less faithful ones less, and we are supposed to strive to live like God our Father and follow His example, then perhaps we are justified in loving the righteous more than those who are not righteous. I see this again in some of the things that have been expressed by church leaders about gays and lesbians. They are happy to love and reach out to those who are trying to overcome their sexual problems, but the subtext, not usually said explicitly but implicit nonetheless, is that we do not love or reach out to those gays and lesbians who have no intention of trying to change.
Anyway, I have beaten this horse enough for today.
When you initially linked to Nelson's conference talk about unconditional love (that God doesn't have it), I was really disturbed. I've thought about it quite a bit since then trying to understand it and I've come up with a few ideas. Perhaps the most sophist of them is that Nelson says that there's no scriptural support for the idea that God loves unconditionally, not so much that he affirmatively does NOT love unconditionally.
Beyond that, I've thought about parents I know who claim to love all their children the same. I think there's some word confusion with that, because while I admit that they value all their children the same and that they will treat them all equally, I suspect that certain of their children probably make them feel more pleased. And in the sense that love is a response and not a static cognitive philosophy of social justice, that pride and pleasure could be described as love (or a surrogate for it).
In short, Elder Nelson's talk, while perhaps rhetorically designed to get people to be more faithful, doesn't reflect what I think the overwhelming message of the church and church leaders has always been: God's love.
L: I suspect that certain of their children probably make them feel more pleased.
It may be a subtle distinction but such love doesn’t seem to be measured in how much someone pleases you or how much you value them as much as in how much their pleasure, their happiness pleases you. I mean, sure, a person could understandably say they love their car, by the pride and pleasure they have in it, but that’s far from the sort of love parents are expressing when they say they love their children all the same. Are you saying the love of God Nelson was talking about may be more the former? (and as a parent of two, who’ll never read this comment, I can, without reservation, say I love them both the same, by both meanings :-)).
It really is a word in need of more words to be clear.
I like your posts a lot.
Could you enable the "Feed" feature of the blog so that those of us using RSS or Atom can get be notified when you make updates?
Best regards!
Thanks for the comments, mohohawaii, and welcome. I have set the Feed feature to Full...please let me know if it works.
"But he did have an edge, at least in his preaching, that really gave no place for the weak who fell by the wayside."
I always prefer to discern between the person and the behavior, as that obviously makes a big difference in the idea conveyed. Thinking in those terms, I can't help but wonder if what he meant was that there is no place for people with 'weak' attitudes (as in those who are not fully committed) - and not that there is no place for the 'weak' (as in those that are imperfect and struggling). The key is in whether or not we are willing to keep struggling or have given up.
Also, consider the fact that the church does move on without the 'weak' - if the definition of 'weak' is any of us who have given up and choosen NOT to be a part of it, as opposed to those of us who are 'weak' as in imperfect but still struggling. That doesn't mean that we are not allowed to 're-join the caravan' if/when we decide we're ready.
I really don't think he means the church (or the Lord) doesn't CARE about the 'weak', but that ultimately, it is NOT the church that chooses us, but us that choose the church - or not. It is us who choose to keep up, drop out, or re-join that caravan. It is not our innate human weakness that matters, but what we choose to do with that weakness.
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