On Coincidences and Prayer

In response to Ben's post on prayer:

Woah, I'm totally freaked out by this post. Not because you're marriage hungry (honestly, anyone who's been reading your blog for more than a month would know that) but because I had this exact conversation on the tube (read: subway) with my study abroad group after seeing the play A Matter of Life and Death at the National Theatre. (Yes, you should be jealous. Excellent play.) Anyway, it was the same conversation--minus some of the marriage bits--which wouldn't be so weird except that I also pulled out Christ's prayer in the garden as an example of how we can pray for things we want and still pray in faith. Creepy. Maybe we've been reading each other's ideas too much, and our minds have started to work the same way. Gah!

But on a more serious note, I think that trying to simplify prayer down to one aspect is always too, well, simple. I try not to think so much about what I should be praying for and instead just use it as a chance to talk with God.

Let's use the very apt metaphor of being out on a date. If you're always thinking about what you should or shouldn't be saying, it really undermines your ability to get closer to the other person. Everything feels contrived and second-guessed, and in the end, you end up with a relationship with your philosophy of what pleases the other person, not with the person themselves. Whereas if you simply speak your mind, you'll get to know each other for who you are, not who you picture each other to be.

I've started to take the same approach with prayer. I don't worry about how it's changing me or how I should be praying. I simply talk with God as I would to anyone else about my day--what I thought about things, what I think I did well or not, what I wish had happened differently, what I'm worried about--and trust that by actually just talking with God it is changing me. And as far as I can tell, it's working because I feel closer to God this way than I ever did when I was worrying about what I should be praying about.

This debate on prayer changing reality (or not) is much the same as the dilemma of omniscience and agency--very difficult to come to conclusions on, people have been arguing about it for centuries, yet the answer really has little impact on how you live your life. You must still continue to make choices, and in this case, we are commanded to pray. There are multitudes of different things we're instructed to pray for; I find it hard to believe we can simplify them all down into one category. How about we just rely on the Spirit and our relationship with God to tell us what to pray about, hmm? Just talk. Really.

(And no, I'm not back from England yet. Don't bother me to post more stuff. I will. When I'm done with London. And Paris.)

History Repeating Itself: Soulforce, Again

Ahhh. Spring is in the air, the flowers are thinking about the possibility of blooming, students are strewn all over BYU quads just free of snow, and Soulforce is coming to BYU.

Yes, again. For those of you who didn't catch the drama last year, here's the recap:

• Katherine's letter to the Daily Universe
• My response to said-letter
  
• Alison's (incomplete) thoughts on intolerant Mormons
• Not Too Pensieve's typically inflammatory remarks (Sorry, NTP, you know it's true. Have fun reading the comments!)
• NTP's "Anti-Mormons but Gay Ones" series, parts 1, 2, and 3
  
• My general remarks on homosexuality in the Church
  
• My unfinished "Thoughts of Homosexuality" essay
  

Hurray. Interesting things are already happening with this year's visit. First of all, BYU sent out the following email to students:

Similar to last spring, a group known as Soulforce, Inc. is planning to come to Provo on March 21 and 22. Based on our experience last April when Soulforce violated university policy, which is applicable to all those coming to campus and which was explained to Soulforce in writing before its arrival, the university has informed Soulforce that it will not be allowed on campus this year as a group or as individuals. Soulforce made it clear last year that its intent was not to seek dialogue but to be arrested and to create a staged media event.

This year, we hope that Soulforce will respect BYU’s right as a private university to disallow any organization from using our campus as a public forum or to engage in a public expression event. As we clearly communicated to Soulforce before its trip began this spring, BYU will not change its policies or practices to accommodate any group’s desire to promote its initiatives.

Despite the fact that banning Soulforce from campus seems a little closed-minded, I have to agree with BYU's decision. The arguments I heard from this group last year were basically misinformed, narrow, and absolute: there was no reason for BYU students to talk with them. As Doug pointed out at the Writing Center today, Soulforce seeks to counter theological arguments with sociological arguments, which doesn't work. They aren't really interested in discussion so much as just having us yield our point of view to theirs. If they really wanted to discuss the position of homosexuals in the Church, they'll need to do a lot more research and be willing to listen as well as be listened to. Maybe it'll go better this year, since they have some Mormons on the trip, including a former co-worker of mine from the Cougareat.

What does concern me is this letter Soulforce received from Church headquarters, informing the "riders" not to visit Temple Square. I understand the Church probably has concerns about the possibility of protest by the group. However, this trip to Temple Square seemed like the first genuine thing Soulforce has done to try to understand the Mormon mindset. It really doesn't reflect well on us that we won't let that happen.

Well, the talk has already started on this year's visit. Perhaps I'll go back and finish my "Thoughts on Homosexuality" series in honor of the occasion.

Criticizing the Church: A How To Guide

One of my major irritations with the bloggernacle (the Mormon blogging community), and probably Church culture in general, is criticism of the Church. As I've blogged about before in The Problem of Perfection: Part II, I feel very torn over how we should be doing it, if at all. On the one hand, blind faith is the opposite of what the Church is about. After all, one of Brother Brigham's greatest fears, according to urban legend, is that the saints will follow their leaders down to hell. Questioning and gaining a personal testimony of each principle is an important part of what we believe. "Seek and ye shall find," and all that jazz.

But then we come up against point eleven of President Ezra Taft Benson's classic address Fourteen Fundamentals in Following the Prophet: "The learned may feel the prophet is only inspired when he agrees with them, otherwise the prophet is just giving his opinion—speaking as a man." This worries me, because this is exactly what happens in a lot of Church-critical debates, and I wonder sometimes if I myself might not be guilty. I can't think of any major incidents at the moment, but I never want to be in danger of falling over that edge.

So how can I be intellectually honest and seeking to know of myself and yet keep myself away from the danger of hearkening not unto the counsel of God?

Enter Hugh Nibley stage right. (No groaning! You know you missed him when there was no Nibleyesque musing last week.) I just finished reading his speech "Criticizing the Brethren" (available at GospeLink.com or in volume 13 of his collected works), and I've officially decided it should be required reading for every Church member, or at least everyone in the bloggernacle. Dear old Hugh's writings--mostly quotes pulled from Joseph Smith--resolve exactly the dilemma I've been having on this subject.

The Good News
So the good news is this: Hugh Nibley, Joseph Smith, and the Church want to be criticized. In spite of the apparently centralized structure of our Church, as Times and Seasons recently remarked, the LDS Church doesn't have as strict of a definition of doctrine as we think it does. And this is not mere oversight on the part of our Church leaders. They've left us room for differing beliefs on purpose, as Hugh Nibley points out with this Joseph Smith quote:

I never thought it was right to call up a man and try him because he erred in doctrine, it looks too much like methodism and not like Latter day Saintism. Methodists have creeds which a man must believe or be kicked out of their church. I want the liberty of believe as I please, it feels so good not to be tramelled. It dont prove that a man is not a good man, because he errs in doctrine.

In other words, outside of a few basic and central beliefs, the Church gives us space for a wide range of beliefs. The range of Mormonism within your typical ward--from orthodox Mormons with 13+ children to new-agey liberal Mormons--is not a temporary problem to be resolved by Book-of-Mormon- or General-Conference-bashing with your neighbor, nor something that needs to be corrected at all. It's an intentional part of the gospel, and it's not as important as we think to clearly deliniate who's right and who's wrong. Nibley relates why:

All of us believe things that aren't true, things that will be proven false in time to come. Scientists like Galileo, Newton, Heisenberg, Planck, Hawking, and Penrose all have had differing beliefs about the very nature of our existence, the most fundamental doctrines of reality. Einstein used to bring God into it. But they all respected each other and didn't damn each other for wrong ideas.

On doctrinal issues that haven't been clearly stated as true or false, we should be able to agree to disagree, to acknowledge that all our opinions are subject to further revelation. As C.S. Lewis says, we should be capable of being in doubt, of saying, "God has revealed this much, and here's what I conjecture about the rest, but I don't know."

. . . With Reservations
Having established that criticism is an essential part of the way the Church works, Hugh Nibley has some qualifications to give, which I'll briefly outline below:

1. Be humble and teachable in your criticism. "You don't know so damn much." We believe in a gospel of continual revelation, so it's likely that the whole basis for your argument could be made irrelevant by new revelation.
2. Focus your criticism on what you can control: yourself. "Search your hearts & see if you are like god." Undoubtedly, you aren't. Therefore, most of your criticism should be devoted to getting rid of the beam in your own eye, rather than your neighbor's.
   
3. Criticize with the Spirit, not with the intellect. Don't rely on your own judgement in the matter. "We frequently are so filled with prejudice, or have a beam in our own eye, that we are not capable of passing right decisions."
   
4. Don't accuse when you criticize; debate instead. "To be constructive, criticism must reach the person for whom it is meant and, of course, he must have a chance to reply--but that is discussion, not criticism."
   
5. Don't worry so much. If God is really leading the Church, then it cannot fail. "What would Jospeh Smith do about evil? He didn't worry, because God was in charge." Trust a little more.
6. Check your motivations. Often. "The critics are really just showing off." Beware of criticizing just so that you don't seem complacent. Also, beware of the "knee-jerk reaction, when upset, to blame the Brethren," or I might add, your neighbor.
   
7. Is the matter trivial? Why waste your time? "These things are of too trivial a nature to occupy the attnetion of so large a body." If it's not really important to your eternal salvation, should you really be bothering? Preach nothing save repentance, after all.
   

The end sum of these reservations is this: we should have it both ways. Criticize, seek out the truth and the deep doctrines, but keep it mostly to yourself. There can be so little certainty in any criticism that it's hardly worth sharing except in the most disinterested, philosophical or private, personal conversations. Think before you speak: are you really going to want to be held to this opinion 3 years or 10 years down the road? I'll say it again--be willing to be in doubt. Stay aware and seeking in your heart, but be wary of trusting your own imperfect judgement. And above all, rely on the Lord.

The phrase I loved most in this article was Hugh Nibley's description of the Church as "an organization made up so largely of nonconformists." My liberal readers may scoff at thinking of their "orthodox" Mormon friends as nonconformists, but that depends on your definition. I'd say all that's required to be a nonconformist is to not do things for the purpose of conforming to a norm. It means following the genuine reasoning of your heart and the feelings of your mind (another Nibley analogy). Surprisingly, this noncomformist path doesn't lead us all in the same direction. An absolutely true Church with many variable paths--who could have predicted it? But then, to go back to C.S. Lewis, if it's something we wouldn't have imagined perhaps that testifies that it is true.

Come, Let us Reason Together: A Nibleyesque Musing

I have one thing to say for the readings this week: Nibley’s “Beyond Politics” is pure genius! I especially enjoyed Nibley’s elaboration on how God wants us to understand the plan of salvation—how, unlike Satan, He cares to negotiate with us until we understand. “God is willing to discuss things with men as an equal.” So often, the world sees living a religion as necessitating blind faith, willfully ignoring the conflicts we see in the world. But this is so backward from what is real that it’s ridiculous. It’s the philosophies of the world that tell us to accept things as they are, not to ask why, but to simply accept that it is. “That’s just life,” the world tells us. It points out the huge gaping dilemmas, cries how incomprehensible the world is, and retreats back into ignorance. Heavenly Father, on the other hand, wants us to ask why, forces us to look at the tough questions and demand answers.

I think the world sometimes avoids religion because we are, as C.S. Lewis said, afraid that if we actually look for God, we would actually find Him, which means a great deal of responsibility. I’ve had friends come up against problems with the Church that they see as irreconcilable—whether it be why women don’t have the priesthood, why their parents got divorced, or why their loved one had to suffer or die. To me, it seemed that the only reason the problems remained for them is because they refused to demand answers from the source. They continued to seek out worldly philosophies on the subject, which they hoped might explain the problem but which inevitably brought more and more questions into their lives. They had laid down their scriptures and their prayers, which is where they ought to have been seeking their answers all along. When I find seemingly unanswerable questions, it’s often because I’m not looking in the right place for the answers.

Another great corollary of this discussion is that deciding to live a righteous life does not mean that all discussion ceases. As Nibley points out, even in the beginning, there was a counsel in heaven. In the Church, we sometimes portray this key discussion as more of a gathering for a one-way dispensation from God, but I think it’s important to notice the collaborative nature of the word. Nibley casts an interesting light on this: “Satan was not cast out for disagreeing, but for attempting to resort to violence when he found himself outvoted.” I’m not sure that I quite buy it doctrinally, but it certain fits into Nibley’s picture of the universe as an essential collaboration between God and men. After all, we believe our intelligences to be equally eternal with God’s; He’s simply further ahead in the plan than we are. Why shouldn’t we all have had a say in how things work?

In contrast with the godly reasoning Nibley presents in “Beyond Politics,” the worldly philosophies exposed in “The Way of the ‘Intellectuals’” look like the pathetic counterfeits that they are. Rather than equality and plainness of God’s “come, let us reason together,” the figures Nibley describes from the Book of Mormon rely on power, charisma, and elitism to make their points. If you disagree with them, it’s merely your lack of judgment. There’s no room for disputation as there is in the kingdom of God. It’s amazing just how plain the difference is when you put these philosophies side-by-side. It’s one of the reasons I’m glad to be studying at BYU. The “open” liberalism espoused by other colleges is actually more confining than they think—no universal truths mean the stability must be made up by embracing current trends. At BYU, however, being united in the gospel gives us a firm foundation for exploring all areas of truth.

More of the Same

Typical controversial BYU political discussion over at Katherine's blog. What interests me is not the issue at hand, but the attitudes taken by the participants. The statements in particular that bother me:

Anonymous #2: Instead I hear a young BYU college kid that is more concerned about being trendy or rebellious than actually standing up for what you believe.

Katherine: . . . For many (most?) people saluting the flag has become a thoughtless act. I'm not convinced that the numerous people I passed who were flirting and giggling or engaged in full conversation while standing with their hands over their hearts were respecting and appreciating the symbolism of the flag and the anthem any more than I was.

I have two problems with these statements, which I view as the same attitude just in different clothing. First, the actions of the crowd have little bearing on whether a specific action is right or wrong. A#2, I know from reliable sources who you are, and you don't know Katherine. Until you know if she belongs to said group, the actions of that group are irrelevant to her personally. Same goes for what Katherine says. Whether or not those people are appreciating their national symbol has no effect on whether it is moral or not for you not to do so. Both of these are arguments based on what other people are doing, which we should have learned in elementary school has little impact on what our standards should be.

Problem two is these two attitudes represent the most unconstructive stereotypes of Mormon liberals and Mormon conservatives towards each other. Noticing these stereotypes was one of the things which caused me to start blogging in the first place. As Katherine shows, liberals have the idea that all conservatives are airheads who are simply following what their parents taught them and can't think for themselves. Equally bad is A#2's attitude that all liberals at BYU are only liberal because they want to stand out and rebel from their parents, that their beliefs are based on social pressures not understanding.

I've been put into both holes lately, and let me tell you, neither stereotype is justified. Yes, there are people on either side of the block who don't care, but they really aren't the ones you should be addressing, are they? I continue to advocate that until we drop these stereotypes and consider the opposition as real, rational people, there will be no progress towards the truth. We must act as though our opposition has the same information we do and has put exactly as much thought into their position as we have. Then and only then do we have a true basis for discussion. Even if it appears they don't, there's no use arguing with someone who doesn't have a level of thought to their opinions anyway. We must combat the ideal enemy if we want truth. Combating the enemy's flaws only wins the debate, not the heart. (And if the heart isn't your goal, I have no help for you.)

Paradox of Tolerance

Really good forum today by Dr. Robert Putnam from Haaavard. I have to agree with Dr. Putnam's conclusion--a loss of social connectedness is so evident in the society I see around me. We've raised a society of people who don't seem to care about each other. The modern paradox is that we preach tolerance and diversity as the main points of a strict orthodoxy, and discriminate against anyone who expresses beliefs other than those two.

As a result, we've grown to think that we're more accepting while actually becoming more isolated from anyone who doesn't share our idiosincratic beliefs. The tolerance that modern society preaches is not one of unity, but one of solitude--you can have your beliefs over here, and I'll have mine over there, and then we can all get along. Sure, no conflict ensues, but there's a severe lack of what Dr. Putnam calls "bridging" social capital. People with different beliefs stay away from each other for fear of offending the master value, tolerance. No meaningful interaction can take place without a sincere expression of opinions. And since expressing non-universal beliefs has become taboo, the only people with whom we can interact are those who already share our values and lifestyle.

Tolerance has also made it worse when it does come to actually sharing our beliefs with each other. The ideas of tolerance and diversity are taught to children as self-evident, something that any rational being would accept. Other values have taken on this self-existing quality. In this century, things that were once beliefs and values have transformed into fact. We've been raised to think our beliefs are based on evidence, and that, given the evidence, our position is the only rational one. Thus, when we have to actually deal with differences of belief, we misinterpret wildly. Either the other side must be ignorant, in which case we must inform them, or they must be illogical and immoral, in which case we must campaign against them at any cost, without regard for right and wrong. It's much the same as the situation Gallileo faced: our community already knows what is true, so anyone who disagrees is ignorant, inaccurate, or demonic. There's no room for actual debate, only a vicious defense of our self-evident truths.

Frankly, I'm as disappointed as anyone that our philosophy of tolerance hasn't worked out better. Theoretically, it sounds like such a good idea, but in practice, it's quite difficult to carry out without the problems mentioned above. Even in our microsphere of Church culture, we see this. Theoretically, all political parties are compatible with church doctrine, and we should love each other as brothers and sisters in Christ. Yet, send me to almost any Mormon activity and I can easily identify which groups of people are LMs (Liberal Mormons), CMs (Conservative), and OMs (Orthodox). Ironic that tolerance has created so much division in our society.

I wish I could say I had the solution, but I'm not sure what it might be. I think it might have something to do with accepting the idea of an absolute truth, somehow avoiding the massive prejudices that come with that, and skipping straight to the phase where we all help each other to move towards that truth. But I could be wrong.

And . . .

Quote of the Day (brought to you today by Hogwarts, A History): "It struct me forcibly that he was right. 'They' had certainly 'spoiled me' at 'that Brigham Young Academy'--spoiled me as mother spoils her child--with kindness, encouragements, appreciation, charity--spoiled me so that I can never be content to take anything but the best the world has to give nor satisfied to give anything but the best that lies within me." -- Annie Pike Greenwood, non-Mormon student who wrote the lyrics to the BYU college song

Reading Material

If you know my reading habits at all, you know that I pratically worship Orson Scott Card. He's a very clear yet eloquent writer with excellent insights into people, religion, politics, and life in general. In addition, he is a great role model for how to balance the conflicting roles of creator, critic, and disciple of Christ.

He writes two columns/essays for a local paper which usually appear on his website within a few weeks. The political column, World Watch, always has a great twist, and never follows the right/left party lines you might expect. He defends truth and logic, which ever party has them, and his results will suprise you. His recent essay on illegal immigration, "What Is This Crime Anyway?", has caused me to seriously reconsider my own position on the topic.

The other column, Uncle Orson Reviews Everything, is slightly uneven, both in quality and content. The staple of the column is movie reviews, which sometimes go a little far in their sensitivity about Hollywood's treatment of political issues (see the review of Mona Lisa Smile near the bottom). Book reviews show up frequently, along with food and restaurant reviews, as well as criticism of the local government. But my favorite parts of this column are his criticisms of people in general. For example:

What, exactly, does it mean when someone says, "My, but you're opinionated." Or "Well, we aren't opinionated, are we?"

What does it mean to be opinionated? Well, presumably, it means that you have opinions and you say them.

But if to be opinionated is something to be discouraged (and the word is always used disparagingly), what is the virtuous alternative? To have no opinions? Or perhaps merely to refrain from saying them?

I believe that "opinionated" is used precisely the way that "judgmental" is used -- in an attempt to make someone embarrassed to state their views, thereby silencing them without having to resort to actually answering any of their views or offering contrary evidence or reasoning. (emphasis in original)

Just amazing, and so true. Reminds me of the old comment Ali made during the "Soul Force" mini-blog-war-thing.

Speaking of reading material, today the Leaky Cauldron posted this interesting study which quantifies the effect Harry Potter is having on reading in children. According to the study (neglecting possible bias, since it is published by Scholastic), over 60% of children age 9-11 and 12-14 have read Harry Potter. Holy cow. And 63% of boys didn't read for fun until they read HP. Talk about influence! It makes me yearn to ever have that sort of audience with my words.

Maybe I'm just power hungry, and that's the real reason I'm an English major.

Brittany McComb: A Question of Scale

Well, I had another blog topic for tonight, but after reading about Brittany McComb on Ben's blog, I guess I'll put off that post till tomorrow. It'll make a good Sunday post anyway.

So here's the short and fast story of Brittany McComb. Brittany becomes valedictorian. She writes a valediction about how Christ and God have changed her life. The administration, fearing legal ramifications, edits out of her speech all references to Christ and scripture. Girl tries to give original speech anyway, but the microphone is cut by the administration. Legal ramifications and talk shows ensue (see link above).

Now, keep reading, because I don't think I'm going to take the side you expect. In keeping with my Circle of Knowledge theory, I can see that each side in this debate has some truth behind it, and the conclusion I've come to seems to be somewhere in the middle. Keep in mind, I am not really interested in the legal aspects behind this, but the moral ones. After all, we can only have just laws if we truly understand the morals they should be upholding.

But the relationship between law and morality is another topic for another time. Back to the subject at hand.

Two opposing experiences keep coming back to me as I think about this issue of eliminating Christ from public. First, I remember sitting in my Theory of Knowledge class in high school listening to a girl explain how her belief in chakra energies and related religious concepts had healed her life, and were really much better than western medicine. Being from Utah, my high school did have quite a large percentage of LDS students (probably 50%), but since it was part of the IB program, it had a little more of an international flavor than most. This particular class I knew contained quite a few agnostics/atheists, several Jews, and at least one Hindu and one Muslim. But despite our apparent diversity and tolerance at other times, the feeling in the classroom was extremely uneasy, and the students in the class were clearly not comfortable with what she was saying to us. But none of us were willing to say anything about it.

I still wonder why we were uncomfortable. Was it the mere action of advocating a religious view in a classroom that made us uncomfortable, or was it that the philosophy being advocated? Had it been a Christian (or more particularly LDS) student speaking about Christ and the atonement, would we--by which I mostly mean I--have felt the same way? I know I have sometimes felt uncomfortable at the way other Christian religions proselyte. But if it were my own religion being preached to a crowd of essentially captive unbelievers, who hadn't asked to hear about it, would I feel the same way? Essentially, I think the delimma boils down to this: can we, or should we, separate the act of proselyting from the beliefs being proselyted? To this, I would hope I could say yes, that I could look at the act of proselyting from an objective point of view, even if it was my own religion. But this is something you may have to convince yourself of.

Once we admit this separation, and that proselyting can cause discomfort in an audience, we can see how there is some valid point for concern over public religious expression. It boils down to the same debate of the ages: individual rights versus public security. I mean, we have laws against verbal harassment for the same sort of reason: even though it does no physical harm, it can cause discomfort in other ways. In the same way, I hate being harassed by the protestors at General Conference or at the Manti Pagent. It is extremely disconcerting, even heartbreaking, to be forced to listen to your religion be thrashed and trashed, even indirectly by those who are simply preaching other views, in a place where it is not wanted.

Which leads me to the other experience I keep thinking about. This one I didn't experience personally, but did hear from a first-hand source. A German-language teacher at my school used to occasionally have a free reading period in class as a reward after quizzes or tests. However, when some students began to read their scriptures during that time, the teacher ordered them not to do so because it violated her freedom of religion. (In the end, she was not allowed to ban specific religious texts from the period, and instead decided to do away with it all together.)

I would hope that anyone reading that story would realize that what the teacher did was completely irrational. Having someone else read a certain book in your classroom is nearly impossible to rationally construe as a violation of your rights. Clearly there is a matter of degrees here. What Brittany McComb did is not on par with what the garment-waving protestors do at General Conference. A general scale of the relationship between religious practice and the public goes something like this, from most-easily acceptable to totally unacceptable:

• private religious practice
• public religious practice
• expression of beliefs in public
• proselytising and advocating a belief system
• denigrating/descriminating against someone else's belief system

What the Brittany McComb incident represents is a confusion of this scale. Much of the civil rights movement worked hard to prevent the descrimination aspect of this scale, which I hope every rational person could agree is the right thing to do. And the Bill of Rights clearly protects the first two, the right to religious freedom. But what to do with these middle two is the problem.

I firmly believe that we do not live in a society that wants to eliminate expression of beliefs and proselytising all together. There may be some extremists who actually do believe that, but being an eternal optimist, I must believe that the majority are fairly reasonable people such as myself. The thing is that these reasonable people have noticed, as I have, that religious speech is a delicate issue, that at some times it is appropriate to voice belief and at others it is not. Even Christ said, "neither cast ye your pearls before swine" (Matt. 7:6), which I take to mean that we don't need to proselyte in every conversation (which bothers me to no end about some evangelicals), but we should instead reserve our expression to appropriate moments and audiences.

So in the end, after reading the full text of Brittany McComb's speech, I must agree with the school's decision to edit her speech. I disagree with the idea that there is no place for Christ in a graduation speech, but I think that the way she did so was not appropriate. Her speech focuses on her conversion to Christianity rather than her school experience. Her talk might actually fit in at an LDS testimony meeting, but not a graduation. Had she done as she claimed to have done and simply cited her religion as one of the influential factors in her life, in a quiet statement of belief rather than proselytizing, then the school board might have been in the wrong (morally, though perhaps not legally).

(However, after that, I must add that I do agree that this suppression of religion movement is targeted towards Christians. Notice in my two experiences that although there was discomfort in both, action was only taken in the situation involving a Christian religion. I however do not believe this to be due to a particular hatred of Christianity. Rather, it is due to two factors. First, other religions still fall under the protection of our fear of being accused of discrimination. We fear that our actions to preserve our own comfort will be miscontrued as racism or beliefism. Witness how the media deals with Islamic extremism--overly careful to make sure that the audience knows they are not against the religion, but merely some of its expressions. The second factor is simply the nature of Christianity. We are a missionary religion, and therefore we feel the need to speak about our beliefs more, which in turn gives us more opportunities to speak out in the wrong times and wrong places. Again, there may be some who do discriminate against Christianity, but not a majority, by far.)

Growing Together

Sort of a follow-up to my "Weary of Well-Speaking" post: As I said in the comments, one of the reasons I am irritated by debaters is they are taught to win arguments, not to search for truth. The more I think about it, the more I see the reoccurance of this problem in society. Aside from the obvious example of politicians, I am specifically thinking about this principle as it applies to marriage and other personal relationships. At institute tonight (the Marriage and Family series--no great wonder), we discussed at length the yoke metaphor used by the Savior in Matthew 11:28-30:

28 ¶Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

One implication of the metaphor struck me as particularly relevant to what I've been trying to get at recently: If one ox in a yolk pushes too strongly for his own way, rather than following the Lord's way, not only does the team deviate from the path, but they can end up going in circles. When we fight too hard for our own ideas and decisions, it is often at the expense of progress, change, and growth. If instead we are meek about our own ideas and work with the Lord, He will guide our progress in the desired direction.

Of course, this analogy translates not only to our relationship with the Lord, or to a relationship with a future spouse, but really to any relationship in our lives, including parents, roommates, siblings, and friends. Really, the point where we seem to get into trouble in a relationship is where we want things "my way" without bothering to understand the possibility of an "our way." Talking escalates to contention when we set as our ground rule that we are right.

In most arguments of my experience, the phrase "Listen to me" or "Are you listening?" or some variant usually comes up. Well, that's a silly question. If you weren't listening, there wouldn't be an argument going on. What they really mean to ask is "What you are listening for?" Are you listening merely to catch the weak points of their position, so best to plan your next attack when they finally finish, and, assuming they ever stop spouting such utter nonsense, you'll set them straight on the facts? Or are you listening with understanding, to truly comprehend what has led to your differences in position, to find the common ground, the truth behind the conflict? When we are seeking for a good solution for both parties, arguments dissolve into discussions, contention into compromise, confusion into construction.

It's similar to the idea behind my Circle Theory and Habit #4 of Covey's Seven Habits. The secret behind both greater intelligence and more successful relationships is the same: learning to think of opposing views not as the enemy, but as a partner, realizing that compromising can be growth instead of loss. When instead of attacking our political opponents, we sit down with them, get to know the beliefs behind their views; when instead of becoming frustrated with our parent's pushy-ness or old-fashioned-ideas, we understand their motivations and principles; when we not only understand others' beliefs, but come to believe them as well, it is then that the true growth starts.

If we continue to divide humanity into smaller and smaller groups according to who agrees with us, we will end up with nothing. But when we seek to include others, and most importantly the Lord, in our search for right, our ability to grow together borders on the infinite. Division is only necessary for definition of problems, not for truth. Once we have divided, it is our duty to once again build and grow together. If we are not one, well, you know. . . .

Weary of Well Speaking

I have a terrible bias against good public speakers. Here are some possible reasons for this:

• Perhaps this is because I am not one. My presentation tends to be terrible, given that I tend to cry when I am nervous or discuss anything I care about. People who can remain unemotional when discussing something important lack passion or conviction in my eyes.
  
• To me, good speaking tends to indicate a lack of substantial ideas, glossed over with flowery language and anecdotes. Unlike much of the international community, I actually find comfort in the fact that President Bush is a terrible speaker, because it indicates to me he is sincere in his thoughts, elected for his ideas, not for his charm. One of the main reasons I would never have voted for Kerry was his speaking ability: smooth, eloquent, and able to speak about nothing for hours. Very typical of the modern career politician, and in my view, the main enemy of progress in government. Politics (and by extension, life) seem to be so much about how you say things and who you are, rather than the actual ideas you have. Rather than consisting of plans and positions, so much of any speech is just vague filler statements, the kind that I would slash through with my red pen if it were an essay.
• Debaters. Bad experiences with debaters. Something seems so wrong to me with the idea of debate competitions. We teach students to argue either side of an issue, as if your personal convictions, or actually truths, about right and wrong are not really that relevant. They are taught to cut into flaws in evidence and presentation, undermining their opponents not by superiority of ideas but by seeming technicalities. They ignore, or cover up, the valid points of their opponent, pitting the worst of their opposition against the best of their own thought. This seems to me a short, sloppy, and least-effective method of argumentation. If you really want to prove something true, you must take your opponents' best arguments, rather than their worst, and you must acknowledge the weaknesses of your position. Only if you can convince someone in spite of both of these things have you truly found truth.
  

Does anyone else feel this way?

The Weather and Conference

Oh, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmaaaaaaas . . . . everywhere in Provoooooo.

Sorry, family tradition. When it snows, we call each other and sing that song. :D Yes, it is snowing in Provo. And the slacker UofU has cancelled school. How lame.

So, long time no post. Finals are coming up, so less and less time to write random rants on here. But also, I've been working on a really long essay in answer to Ali's comment on my homosexuality post. Don't worry it's coming. It's already like three pages long though. I will try to finish it this weekend so I can post it on April 10th, when Soulforce is here. Then I hopefully won't have to think about that topic for a while. :D

Anyway, I've been meaning to write some comments on the General Conference talks from this weekend. There were several that I really liked a lot. I know, we shouldn't have pet gospel topics, but several of these addressed my current gospel hobbies.

First, I felt like one of the major themes of conference was agency, as mentioned by Elder Hales in the first talk. This makes sense to me, since so much in the world around us is encouraging us to blame our problems on genetics, parenting, natural tendencies, etc., and give up on changing them. While it is true that we are born with certain natural tendencies, we can choose to give in to them, fight them, or change them for good. For instance, my family has a natural tendancy towards depression. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I didn't inherit the tendancy as much as some of my other siblings, but I still have it just the same. Now, I could give in to my sadness, saying it's just the way I am, or I can fight it, which is what I choose to do. And really, how sad would life be if who you are is determined simply by your DNA? If you had no choice about it, there would hardly be any point to being alive at all. You might as well be a little machine.

President Hinckley's Sunday morning talk did freak me out. I must admit that I felt corrected when he said he didn't want us to think of this talk as an obituary. Seriously, it sounded to me like a farewell. And his last minute decision not to open the Saturday morning session also points towards that. I mean, the man is 96 years old, so I guess we should expect him to be called home soon, but still I will miss him. He is the prophet that I remember the most. The only thing I remember about President Benson was the notice of his death scrolling across the screen when I was watching Sesame Street on KBYU. It will be interesting to have a new prophet. But in the meantime, President Hinckley is the prophet and I fully support him.

Speaking of President Hinckley, from what I have heard, his priesthood session talk was good, not that I've gotten around to reading it yet. I've kind of been annoyed by the backlash of it though. One part in the talk seems particularly directed at "Utah Mormons," who are often viewed by the church as being exclusive, rude, and extremist. Ever since President Hinckley's talk, I have noticed how much criticism and stereotyping of "Utah Mormons" goes on around me each day. Personally, I don't see the problem as being just of "Utah Mormons," but general to the entire church. However, since the church population is larger in Utah, the problem seems greater here. I personally have never known a church family who would forbid their children to play with non-members. I didn't even make the distinction between members and non-members in my own head until I was in third grade (I can clearly remember the day).

Really, those who do such cruel things exist in all communities, not just the church. Outside the church, they do it for race, education level, wealth, lifestyle choices, and other factors. In some cases, I can see how it might be justified. There are some things you don't want your children exposed to. I don't feel that I am qualified to make a judgment about which cases were right or wrong, and I'm amazed that anyone would. Additionally, if you are shallow enough not to realize that one family refusing to let their children play with yours does not represent the whole church, then I am amazed that you have survived this long in society. For every one person with a particular bias, hundreds exist without it. It's like condemning all whites as racist because you happened to meet one person who was. It's a reverse-bias and just as dangerous. Really, we should all be striving to avoid stereotypes of any kind when dealing with anyone else.

Which, ironically enough, brings me to my next and final favorite talk by Elder Wood of the Seventy. He talks about something that is so true of modern society: it is viewed as cool to be extremist and to try to offend other people. He then goes on to talk about how members of the church must strive to understand other viewpoints before correcting them with love and kindness. It reminded me of Elder Oaks' CES Fireside from this summer. In that talk, he said that the members of the church should strive to be moderate in all things EXCEPT in their testimony of Christ. Here is where we differ from the worldly view of tolerance. I believe it is important to understand others and treat them all with kindness and respect; however, as a church member, and more importantly as a human being, it is my duty to stand up for standards of what is right and wrong. We condemn actions as wrong, but we should not be unkind to the people who do them, only firmly but kindly point them in the right direction. (See my New Year's Post on Relativism. PS - I Hate It.)

Yeah, so that's all. Time to go work on some homework now.

Oh, and I found a new knitting project today. Must make Ginny Weasley Hat!

Listening is not always the answer

In response to Katherine's post:

Interesting, but very party line, Katherine. I mean, "stigma and condemnation?" "Oppression and persecution?" Without concrete examples, these phrases are meaninglessness buzz words designed to generate mindless outrage.

Homosexuality is not a stigma: it's a sin. We have this pretty clearly from the Bible and modern revelation. As a church, not a social club, we are basically required to condemn sin. It comes with the job description. And can you be more specific than "oppression"? What exactly would you have BYU change about our policy about homosexuality?

And although listening is nice, in this case I believe it to be mostly fruitless, seeing as we are working from an essential difference of opinion on which neither side can compromise. The basic premise of Soulforce's agenda goes against what the Church tells us about homosexuality in all the typical ways. True, we can agree with their message that we should love everyone, but how can we possibly benefit from listening to them "make clear the harmful effects of the false notion that homosexuality is a 'sickness and a sin,'" since that is exactly what we know to be true?

I don't see that this group will be able to tell me anything new or enlightening. I've heard the pro-GLBT rhetoric before, and this sounds pretty much the same. I agree that we should be more supportive to those struggling with this problem, but those who want us to just accept this as 'the way they are' simply cannot fit in here at BYU or in the Church. (See blog for more on that.)

The principle argument for GLBT goes against a core principle of the gospel, and of my personal beliefs: agency. When we deny that people have the ability to reason, decide, and do, in any matter, we have given in to hopelessness and can no longer progress. To me, this is a fruitless point of view. Which is perhaps why moral relativists bother me so much: if there is no right, no truth, then how can we ever learn more? We can't just sit around and not choose for fear of offending or being wrong. We must try, improve and correct, and try again.

BYU's Political Vaccuum

BYU has an interesting political dynamic. Unlike most American universities, the majority of students are white, church-going conservatives, who tend to be staunch Republicans and think Bush is the greatest thing since sliced cheese. They support the war in Iraq, defy the UN, and dare anyone to tell them they're wrong. But the small but vocal Liberal Mormon minority has dramatically increased its presence in recent years. They are vegetarian,--perhaps even vegan--watch R-rated movies and drink caffeine on a regular basis, and are distinctly disappointed in the narrowminded views of their flag-waving fellow students. What they lack in numbers, they make up in their outspoken opinions about their clearly "enlightened" ways.

And in between? There isn't one. There is a distinct void where moderate voices should be on BYU campus. Those who aren't in one of these two camps seem either apathetic or oblivious in the "bubble." If you've ever tried to speak out moderate position, you've probably been accused of being in one of these groups (probably by someone further right or left than you).

Example in point: the BYU Political Review's recent articles on President Bush's wiretapping program (or domestic spying/eavesdropping, if you're against it). In the February 27th issue, we have an article from Dave Lassen, praising the virtue of the government and deriding anyone who would criticize zecret programs. "We have duly elected representatives who the voters have charged with the responsibility to keep our country safe," he says, firmly trusting the government and its current system of checks and balances. Though he acknowledges that the program may or may not be legal, he still insists that questioning the government in matters of national security is wrong, wrong, wrong.

Predictably, the next week, Max Stoneman fires off an article from the LM point of view. His "fears of government surveillance" show a complete distrust of the government reminiscent of the 60s or 70s. He concludes that the only way to be sure the government doesn't initiate some Black-Helicopters-type program is with a constant stream of leaking and whistleblowing.

Both of these articles really bother me. Though both acknowledge they know little about the wiretapping program and aren't sure it is legal or not, they are quick to pull out the standard party lines on what's right and wrong, just in case. Neither complete trust or distrust in the government makes any sense in my mind. Each issue must be weighed individually, and as of yet, the public doesn't have enough information to form any sort of decent opinion on the wiretapping.

And yet we keep forming opinions. I can understand this from career politicians who need to support their ideals no matter their correctness, but I expect better from church members and specifically from BYU students. For a school that purports to put out morally-aware students, we've done a pretty poor job.